Chapter 696: Crossing the River

Bands of roving bandits, several hundred riders each, came wave after wave under the covert direction of the Chuang Camp’s various commanders, putting on a posture of harassing attacks focused on the rear and both flanks of the Ming army’s formation.

Whenever they pressed close, small square formations on the flanks responded — at the officers’ shouted orders, dense thickets of long spears rose within the formations, and as the men kept moving they became like clusters of moving hedgehog thickets.

The arquebusiers on the outer sides of each small formation fired continuously when the enemy riders closed to fifty paces; they were well-trained and could load and reload while advancing, and even if it grew slightly disordered, to the roving bandits’ eyes they already looked exceedingly elite.

From both flanks of the formation burst repeated volleys of arquebus fire with violent reports, columns of white smoke rising into the sky; some of the charging bandit riders were knocked down, and then their main bodies panicked and dared not press closer — the sharpness of the New Army’s firearms, using Eastern Route weapons, had already cast a deep psychological shadow over many of the bandit riders.

The horse troops of the Ge and Left Five Camps in particular lacked fighting will; often after a few hundred riders suffered a handful of casualties, the bulk decisively pulled far away.

In truth, although the New Army formation was flexible, its outermost firepower was unavoidably much reduced, because many small formations were positioned inside — only a few protruding small formations on the outer edge of the large formation could engage the enemy, and all told there were not many of them.

And in each of these small formations, with two hundred combat troops, only one hundred were arquebusiers, who had to face all four sides — only twenty-five matchlocks per side, and each side had to be divided into several ranks; with the occasional misfire, only a few guns were actually firing on the outermost face.

However, because each small formation’s Squad Commander and the Company Commander directing several small formations had relative command authority, each man’s ability was brought into fullest play.

Many assessed the situation and decisively shifted arquebusiers within the formation — for example, moving the arquebusiers from the other three sides to the side engaging the enemy, turning the small square formation into a narrow, elongated array; redeployment within a small formation was very fast.

They also, without prior agreement, used a firing-and-passing tactic similar to the Shenji Camp: the twenty-five men firing on the outermost rank were mostly the better marksmen within the unit, while the arquebusiers of the other three ranks loaded and passed the weapons, serving as support troops.

In this way, firepower was enhanced and the gunners did not need to advance and retreat — a situation that made the already more awkward right-advance and left-advance unnecessary, avoiding chaos; at the juncture of life and death, every man’s wisdom was displayed to the fullest.

The cavalrymen of the central force were likewise frequently in motion; several hundred riders were deployed behind the main formation to serve as rearguard. If the harassing enemy was few, they decisively met them; if many, they withdrew and hid inside the main formation, then charged out to counterattack when the enemy pulled back.

On both flanks of the formation, some riders were also deployed as the situation warranted to intercept small bands of roving riders.

The Ming army responded with sound tactics, and with the flexibility of the New Army formation, although the bandit riders harassed frequently, they did not slow the main formation’s advance; under the increasingly livid gazes of Liu Zongmin and the others, it continued to push toward Xiayi.

“We cannot let them keep this up!”

Liu Zongmin roared fiercely once more.

Harassment was useless; they had to fight another major battle with the Ming army. But compared to when Cao Bianjiao had first deployed this formation, the various roving bandit commanders were now far more cautious — they had already gained a rough glimpse of this formation’s power.

Not long before, a brave body of Chuang Camp riders had charged straight into the formation, only to be like meat buns thrown at a dog — gone and never returning; everyone watched helplessly as the roar of gunfire erupted within, smoke billowed, and not one of the three hundred-odd riders came out.

This strange formation actually had such power? It was as if a host of troops lay in ambush within; ordinarily when horse troops attacked an infantry formation and saw things going badly, they could at least flee, but this time not a single one could escape — presumably when the real battle came, the difficulty would be considerable.

Moreover, the various roving bandit commanders understood their own capabilities; although their side had forty thousand riders against the Ming army’s mere seven thousand horse and foot, who would prevail in a major battle was far from certain.

Yet they could not afford to hesitate any longer.

Scouts had learned that the Chuang King, leading the last of his main force, was still hurrying on the march and would need time to arrive; to say nothing of Cao Bianjiao’s marching speed, if Wang Tingchen, who had earlier broken out, managed to stand firm at Xiayi and then turn back to link up, the difficulty of trapping them would be even greater — they had to pin down their pace.

After brief but heated argument, the Chuang Camp commanders and the Ge and Left Five Camps finally reached an agreement: each side would assign five thousand riders as a reserve and screening force, and the remaining roughly thirty thousand riders would attack Cao’s camp in three waves, with the aim of pinning them down at all costs.

The bandits had truly thrown caution to the wind; especially for the men of the Ge and Left Five Camps, they had never staked such a large investment before.

Although they claimed their able fighters numbered no less than several tens of thousands — the *Xincai County Gazetteer* recorded that when their force passed north of Cai City, armored troops in elite array stretched from dawn to dusk without end — in truth their horse troops numbered only about fifteen thousand, and even that contained much padding; some men had only a rough grasp of horsemanship and little mounted combat ability, yet were still counted as part of the cavalry.

With the three factions combined, their horse troops numbered over sixty thousand; not counting Luo Rucai’s and Li Dingguo’s three or four thousand riders, the Chuang Camp was the strongest, with over forty thousand horse troops. At this moment over twenty thousand riders were gathered here, while the remaining ten-odd thousand were being led by Li Zicheng himself, hurrying over.

The ones he led were far more elite; many among them were Old Camp fighters, a fair number comparable to the Qing state’s *bayara*.

……

At the beginning of the *shen* hour (3 p.m.), because he used the New Army formation, even with enemies on all sides, Cao Bianjiao smoothly led his army to a place called Caomiaozhuang.

This hamlet had long since become a ruin; east of the village stood a few solitary large trees, the surrounding country silent and desolate, without commoners or inhabitants — as if the whole stretch of land had died.

A river flowed not far west of the village; its volume had long since shrunk considerably, seeming to reach only to a man’s thigh, exposing large stretches of parched riverbed. Not far from either bank lay scattered patches of abandoned or fallow fields, already thick with wild grass. Looking, there was a wooden bridge leading to the opposite bank, but its middle section had been destroyed.

Cao Bianjiao ordered the army to halt; around the west side of the village, the officers and men stopped to take water and dry rations, and the horses and mules likewise drank and ate bean fodder and hay to replenish their strength.

He also sent men to search the village, but they found nothing of value; the entire village, apart from broken walls and ruined houses, had not even doorframes or door planks left — no one knew how many times it had been swept clean by soldiers, bandits, and refugees over and over.

Under the present circumstances, the army had covered roughly half the distance to Xiayi. The two places, Yongcheng and Xiayi, were over a hundred *li* apart (without the expressways of later ages); if it were simply marching, without enemies on all sides, even on foot a hundred *li* a day was possible at a forced pace.

But given the situation before them, setting aside the twenty *li* the infantry camp had yet to cover before reaching Yongcheng, marching in formation like this for nearly thirty *li* was already considered fast. Cao Bianjiao calculated that by the next day at the latest, the army could reach the walls of Xiayi.

He rode to the riverbank and gazed toward the opposite shore. The soldiers of the two garrisons resting densely along the river, whether from Yutian Garrison or Zunhua Garrison, saw his great banner and let out thunderous cheers, shouting to him with fervor: “Commander Cao! Commander Cao…”

Even at the most perilous juncture, the Grand Commander would not abandon his brothers — this act had won the hearts of countless officers and men.

Coupled with the effectiveness of the new formation, though everyone was weary, their morale had reached its peak; the old war-weariness and homesickness of fighting far from home had vanished entirely. In this moment, the hearts of the entire army’s officers and men were tightly united.

Amid the cheers, Vice General Sun of Wang Tingchen’s New Army Camp, along with Yang Shaofan and other commanders, gathered around Cao Bianjiao, each sharing in the honor; they held their heads high, expressions proud, and the standard-bearer beside them raised the Grand Commander’s great banner even higher.

Watching the soldiers’ unfeigned emotion, Cao Bianjiao felt a sting in his nose; his expression grew ever more resolute — he would never abandon a single brother.

He looked toward the opposite bank. Band after band of roving bandits were now converging from all directions, men and horses massing more and more; it looked as if they intended to fight a major battle on the far bank, to block his advance, and at the same time to strike while his forces were mid-crossing — ideally cutting them into two halves that could not link head to tail.

Ever since setting out from Yongcheng, he had marched along the river the locals called the Xianghe, which ran between Yongcheng and Xiayi, ensuring a water supply while also using the river as a protective screen.

Along the way, tributaries constantly fed into this river; most were small streams with shallow water and gentle banks that the troops crossed with ease. The river before them was the Xianghe’s largest tributary in this region.

This river had to be crossed; otherwise, reaching Xiayi City would require a long detour. The roving bandits had seen this point too, which was why they were massing on the far bank. After so many years of fighting, the Chuang Camp men’s tactical acumen was still quite high; they had chosen their ground well.

“Commander Cao, I wish to lead troops to fight across to the far bank first and secure a foothold for the army…”

The commander of Wang Tingchen’s New Army Camp, Vice General Sun of Zunhua Garrison, reined in his horse and bellowed his request to Cao Bianjiao. Beside him, Yang Shaofan’s brows twitched; during the march, his own New Army battalion and Vice General Sun’s New Army had alternated in covering each other, deployed at the front or rear of the formation according to the hour and the terrain.

Earlier, Vice General Sun’s New Army Camp had been the rearguard; marching like this with the enemy ahead, aside from the manifold dangers, the soldiers at the rear actually bore enormous psychological pressure, for they always harbored the worry that the main army might abandon them.

And now, the corresponding danger lay in seizing the position on the far bank; after all, the opposite shore was thick with roving riders, and securing a foothold would be no easy matter. If the heroes of Zunhua Garrison strove to be first in everything, how could the officers and men of Yutian Garrison fall behind?

Just as he was about to speak, Cao Bianjiao raised a hand and made his decision: “Good. I shall await Vice General Sun’s good tidings here!”

He swiftly made arrangements, first sending some cavalry across to sweep the bank and drive off the many roving bandit scouts reconnoitering on the far side. When the Zunhua Garrison New Army crossed the river, if the enemy tried to strike mid-crossing, the cavalry would protect their flanks and prevent enemy riders from flank attacks.

At the same time, the central force would quickly repair the ruined wooden bridge so that the army’s supply carts and the like could cross. The army’s bridge-laying horses all carried simple ladders, making it quite convenient to set up beams in the hills; the wooden bridge was only broken in the middle, so by laying ladders across and then planks on top, it could still support cart traffic.

He raised his telescope to scan the far bank. The river was no more than a hundred-odd paces wide; apart from the cracked riverbed on both banks, there were thickets of waist-high dead grass, very few trees, and the banks were mostly gentle. The water was not deep — cavalry and infantry could cross without difficulty.

But about two *li* from the river, the roving bandits on the far bank had already gathered in a vast, dark mass; some of their picket riders had even halted their horses at the bank and were spying toward this side. If his own forces crossed and climbed the bank, they would surely come under their assault. (To be continued..)