Chapter 706: Tears

Li Zicheng had been closely observing the battlefield situation. At first he wore a composed expression, but slowly his face changed color.

Even the relatively steady Tian Jianxiu and Gao Yigong turned pale. Their own casualties were too great, and the new army's combat strength was too strong. The fact that Yuan Zongdi's fifteen-thousand-strong spear soldier tide had attacked only to be routed by a few hundred new army spear soldiers dealt a considerable blow to their originally unshakable belief in victory.

Only Liu Zongmin looked around with a "now you know why we fought like that earlier" know-it-all-after-the-fact expression. As the chief sentinel, having led troops into such a fight earlier had cost him face, so now he felt a bit more balanced inside.

A chill ran through Li Zicheng's heart. In just one morning, fifty thousand of their own and the Ge-Zuo coalition's foot soldiers had been utterly terrorized by Cao Bianjiao, not even counting the tens of thousands of famine refugees. He thought Yuan Zongdi's dispositions had not been wrong; if there was a problem, it could only lie on the government troops' side.

Watching that direction, only one thought turned in his mind: he had crossed hands with young Cao before, and back then his combat strength had not been this strong, had it?

Just then, Geli-yan He Yilong also came rushing over in a fluster, shouting, "Chuang Wang, we can't keep fighting. The casualties among our lads are too great."

He was known among the Ge-Zuo for daring in battle, and for him to speak like this now plainly showed that the losses before them had made the various chiefs of the Ge-Zuo Five Camps extremely dissatisfied, egging him on as their leader to come and remonstrate.

Li Zicheng patiently said, "Old Chief He, having fought to this point, how can we not continue? The righteous army's casualties are somewhat large, but fortunately the backbone is intact. On young Cao's side, however, those dying are all elite troops. Push a little harder, and there will come a time when they cannot hold out."

His implication was that they were riding a tiger and could not dismount; to stop now would mean all those dead had died in vain, and all the earlier dispositions would be utterly wasted.

Moreover, there was another layer he did not voice. Although many in the roving camps had died, most were worthless famine refugees and expendable foot soldiers. As long as the horse troops remained, everything lost would still return.

Niu Jinxing also urged, "General He, we must not waste all our previous efforts. Though our army has suffered minor setbacks, reinforcements are unceasing. Look, at least tens of thousands more troops have already arrived. We can send them forward to fight. The government troops are merely beasts at bay, struggling in vain. A centipede dies but never falls stiff."

He Yilong needed to maintain courtesy toward Li Zicheng, but Niu Jinxing was merely a staff officer under him, so he showed no courtesy. His ox-like eyes glared and he bellowed, "Stiff your mother's head, you donkey's ball. Armchair strategist! Does young Cao, so full of life and vigor, look like he's dying but not stiff?"

Niu Jinxing's face instantly turned ashen. Such an insult — what can be endured, this cannot be endured.

Even the veteran general Liu Zongmin treated him with courtesy in the Chuang camp. He Yilong, that crude fellow, how dare he act so?

He forced a smile. Still needing to maintain a scholar's decorum, he merely put on an expression of refusing to stoop to argument.

A flash of cold sharpness passed through Li Zicheng's eyes. When beating a dog, one must consider the master's face. Niu Jinxing was the Chuang camp's military advisor. For He Yilong to shout and yell at him so — did he have any regard for Li Zicheng himself? The faces of the Chuang camp generals also instantly turned ugly, and the irascible Liu Zongmin nearly leapt to his feet.

However, considering the greater war situation, Li Zicheng swallowed his anger and restrained his subordinates' movements.

He looked at He Yilong and smiled faintly. "Old Chief He, I must still ask you to persuade the other great chiefs. We cannot stop. If we let Cao Bianjiao escape, all the pains we took coming from Kaifeng will have been in vain. But once we defeat Cao Bianjiao and destroy their new army, the government troops in Kaifeng City will surely be terror-stricken. With the righteous armies gathered, we can destroy them in one sweep, and the court will no longer have the ability to deal with us. The realm of the Great Ming will be ours to gallop across at will. Think of that day, and think again of the days we hid and fled east and west. This battle must be fought on!"

He Yilong looked at Li Zicheng, feeling there was something deep and unfathomable in his eyes. He shifted his gaze away unnaturally, thinking that having fought to this point, if they didn't recoup something afterward, no one could answer to the various parties. In his heart he only thought: "Damn it, I've boarded a pirate ship. Had I known, I would have stayed at ease in Nanzhili and not come to join forces with Li Chuang."

He also thought that one point Li Zicheng made was reasonable. Although his subordinate casualties were heavy, the main horse troops were intact, and follow-up soldiers kept arriving in an endless stream. Gritting his teeth, he could still hold on.

In the end he muttered, "As Chuang Wang says, then."

Li Zicheng looked at him and smiled. "Good. Brother He is indeed one who understands the greater good."

In the afternoon, the roving camps organized several more attacks, but all were beaten back one by one by Cao Bianjiao. Amid the encirclement of the bandits, the army formation advanced steadily.

Those fifty thousand Chuang camp and Ge-Zuo foot soldiers were no longer willing to fight. The afternoon's battles were all fought by newly arrived foot soldiers and famine refugees from the various factions, but news of the morning's brutal fighting had spread, stirring waves of unease among these men.

Li Zicheng and the others killed quite a few to steady the army's morale. Niu Jinxing also devised a method: separating the later-arriving foot soldiers and famine refugees from the earlier ones. Thus, only these later-arriving cannon fodder, ignorant of the true situation, threw themselves at the Ming army formation without hesitation under the horse troops' supervision.

The corpses piled ever higher along the path, and fresh blood flowed ceaselessly into the Xiangshui River, as if to dye the entire stream red.

Facing the intercepting roving camp infantry and famine refugees, Cao Bianjiao scattered their encirclements time and again, and as they fled in all directions, the army formation advanced rapidly.

However, Li Zicheng's tactic of concentrating horse troops to harass and entangle was quite successful. Whenever the foot soldiers and famine refugees ahead collapsed and there was no time for other units to rescue them, the nearly forty thousand cavalry under Gao Yigong's unified command would come surging like the tide, forcing Cao Bianjiao to form defensive formations for self-preservation, buying time once more for their foot soldiers to regroup.

Only a few times, when the main-battalion cavalry sortied and the infantry formation quickly followed up, did they kill over a thousand of their horse troops in total. But afterward Li Zicheng noticed this and deployed even more men and horses to entangle their new army infantry formation.

That afternoon, even more foot soldiers and famine refugees from the roving camps arrived, until the flat land all around was covered by their human tide.

Song Xiance also arrived. He proposed building and modifying more equipment, such as using the plank carts and wheelbarrows the famine refugees carried to make simple shield carts, with thick, sturdy wooden planks erected on top to protect against firearms. On some shielding boards, they even spread cotton quilts and the like, thus continuously inflicting casualties on the Ming army and making Cao Bianjiao anxious and agitated.

However, there was also good news. Wang Tingchen, who had broken out earlier, led his over 2,600 cavalry in a sudden attack on the 20,000 horse troops Li Zicheng had specially deployed to guard against Wang's unit and other Ming forces, nearly routing them. Li Zicheng had to send Li Guo personally leading 2,000 veteran camp cavalry before barely stabilizing the situation.

Thereafter, Wang Tingchen roamed outside, attacking everywhere madly. In the mid-shen hour, he raided a famine refugee camp, sending these people scattering and fleeing in all directions, with no one knowing how many tens of thousands fled in total.

Li Zicheng, still in shock, ordered Li Guo to be even more vigilant, then had the famine refugees dig trenches along Cao Bianjiao's line of advance, digging the ground everywhere into a pitted, cratered mess, making the Ming army's march difficult.

On the nineteenth day of the eighth month, the roving bandits grew even more numerous, and on this day, Li Zicheng organized dozens of attacks. Both sides fought to a tangled stalemate, and casualties expanded further. The land along the banks of the Xiangshui was nearly soaked black and purple with blood.

Near noon on the twentieth day of the eighth month, Luo Rucai, Sun Kewang, and Li Dingguo arrived. The brutal scene before them gave Luo Rucai a great fright. Li Dingguo's eyes held a trace of pity, while Sun Kewang's face actually showed an expression of excitement.

The three factions had finally converged, and by this time, the foot soldiers under each commander, along with the coerced famine refugees, had basically all arrived; only the cannons had not yet come.

Luo Rucai suggested imitating siege warfare, building sturdy equipment like shield carts and armored assault wagons to counter the Ming army's sharp firearms, a proposal that won Li Zicheng's extreme praise...

Twentieth day, afternoon, wei hour.

At a local place called Huqiao, only thirty li from Xiayi.

The firing of arquebuses resounded through the clouds. Amid rows of spurting flame, the shielding boards of the roving bandits' shield carts ahead were struck with loud cracking sounds, cotton wadding flying from the quilts. The bandit soldiers behind the carts shouted in confusion, scurrying chaotically everywhere, trying to evade the firearms they regarded as utterly terrifying.

"Kill the bandits!"

Another wave of long-spear soldiers moved out. These brave warriors roared, braving the arrows shot from ahead and some three-eyed guns, charging fiercely behind the shield carts. The ground was somewhat pitted, and at times a trench would even appear.

But even if they fell, they immediately scrambled up, leveled their spears, and continued the charge.

The roving bandits behind the shield carts scattered in a single crash, each throwing away their weapons and fleeing with howls. The torrent of long spears swept over in an instant. Tang Tingji's long spear thrust fiercely out. A roving bandit sword-and-shield man, seeing escape was impossible and fighting like a cornered beast, desperately blocked with his shield, barely fending off the long spear with his round shield.

But the powerful force still sent him tumbling away. This roving bandit was also an old hand; he quickly rolled on the ground, scrambling frantically to try to get up.

Before he could straighten up, Tang Tingji's long spear, carrying a heavy whoosh of wind, stabbed viciously into his right eye. Blood mixed with white brain matter spurted out instantly, and the roving bandit collapsed to the ground without a sound.

The roving bandits who dared resist were killed or wounded to the last in a short time; the rest turned and fled in even greater panic, only to be killed one by one from behind by Tang Tingji and the others.

Screams, pleas — it seemed like history repeating itself. Another roving bandit turned his head back, again a young and terrified face, still so childish.

But Tang Tingji's heart had long since hardened like steel. The hand gripping his long spear did not hesitate, stabbing viciously into this young bandit soldier's throat. The long spear withdrew, then without pause moved forward, leaving the bandit soldier clutching his wound and convulsing desperately on the ground.

Killing, killing, ceaseless killing. Tang Tingji's spirit had long since grown numb. Much of the time, fighting relied only on instinct, only on habit.

He swung his arm again and again, stabbed again and again. He could not even remember clearly how many he had killed. It seemed there were young, old, small, male, and female alike. Many comrades had also suffered emotional breakdowns from excessive slaughter, and they were not few.

If there were a mirror before him, Tang Tingji would discover that his eyes had long since turned blood-red, as if he had become a killing machine, his mind devoid of thoughts of death or fear.

He and many long-spear soldiers, even after scattering those foot soldier formations, still charged madly at the roving bandit horse troops who came to intercept, making them flee in terror, shouting as they ran: "Madmen, madmen, a bunch of madmen..."

The sound of the gong signaling withdrawal rang out. Tang Tingji suddenly felt as if all strength had left his body, feeling pain everywhere all over. He returned to the position with the equally exhausted spear soldiers and plopped down sitting on the ground. Many even just lay there like that, utterly ignoring the blood and corpses on the ground. Some even pillowed their heads on dead men's thighs.

The army formation advanced all the way. There were too many fallen corpses, too many to clear away. Much of the time, the living and the dead were just mingled together like that.

"Back? Here, have some water."

As he sat down exhausted, a coconut ladle was handed over. It was Tang Ting'e, the arquebusier squad leader he regarded as an elder brother, passing over his water canteen.

Tang Tingji took it silently. The coconut ladle that had always felt light in the past now seemed to weigh a thousand jun. The muscles in both arms ached constantly, and the wounds all over seemed to have gone numb with pain.

Tang Tingji said nothing, gulped down several mouthfuls. The water in the pot seemed to have a strange taste, because the Xiangshui River had flowed with too much fresh blood, mixed with too many corpses.

Orders had come down from above: no drinking unboiled water — it must be cooked and brought to a boil. But with enemies surrounding them on all sides, firewood was hard to gather, and a pot of water had become more and more precious.

After he drank a few mouthfuls, the coconut ladle in his hand was snatched away by Coal-Black. The coal-faced man likewise gulped down several mouthfuls, then carefully and preciously stoppered the pot and handed it back to Tang Ting'e.

He threw an affectionate arm around Tang Tingji's shoulder. "Aji, I damn near thought you weren't coming back. Lucky for you, the kid's life is tough — time after time, nothing happens to you..."

He studied Tang Tingji's face. "Just that you're scarred now. Might be hard to find a wife later. I hear the Jingbian Army has special military matchmakers — once you join up, they guarantee you a wife. Really makes a man envious."

He laughed a few carefree laughs, accidentally tugged at his wound, and then broke into violent coughing.

He too had suffered several wounds. As the fighting grew fiercer, with several deadly clashes a day, they, the arquebusiers, often turned into blade-and-shield soldiers, engaging the bandits in close-quarters combat.

"Tianfu is dead."

Tang Ting'e, who had been silently staring at the water pot in his hands, suddenly spoke. At once, everyone fell mute. No matter how numbed Tang Tingji's spirit had become, he still felt a suffocating tightness in his chest, and tears nearly fell from his eyes. Tang Tianfu, his fellow townsman, was gone too. Of the dozen-odd townsmen who had enlisted together back then, half were already dead or wounded. Could those who remained survive?

He leaned wearily against his comrade's back and looked around. Everyone beside him was utterly exhausted. Many had faces gray and ashen. The ranks had thinned further. Everyone, including the soldiers of the Main Battalion, was covered in scars, their expressions listless and dejected.

All manner of bloody and acrid gunpowder smells stabbed at their nostrils from time to time. Corpses of every kind lay strewn across the formation. Tang Tingji saw the officers in the center of the formation, just as disheveled, some sitting, some standing. Many smoked their pipes in silence, saying nothing.

A great Cao-character banner still fluttered, but beside the flag lay dozens of roving bandit corpses. Tang Tingji saw Grand Commander Cao, along with Vice General Yang and Vice General Sun from Zunhua Garrison. The three men were gathered together, sitting right on a pile of corpses, their feet planted in pools of blood, talking about something unknown.

The army, having fought to this point, was already teetering on the brink. But do not be fooled by how they looked during rest — at a single order, the troops would still rise, bearing their wounds and pain, walking with faltering steps, and with a tenacity the roving bandits could scarcely imagine, continue pressing forward.

Yet, looking out in every direction, roving bandits still covered the land all around. Could the army truly escape this peril?

Amid the silence, a hesitant voice suddenly spoke: "Tell me, if we truly can't fight on, would Grand Commander Cao and the others abandon us and leave us behind?"

Everyone looked over — it was Tang Yanfu who had spoken. The simple, honest young man stammered, "I'm not saying I'd blame Grand Commander Cao and them... we've all fought to this point. Even if they left, I wouldn't speak ill of it. But I... I just keep thinking about my mother..."

Tang Tingji's heart clenched even tighter. Wasn't he himself worried sick about his own mother at home?

His father had died early; it was his mother alone who had raised him. If he were gone, what would she do all by herself?

Among the infantry now, rumors were not absent — fears that the cavalry would abandon the foot soldiers and flee. But because Cao Bianjiao and others had proven otherwise through their actual deeds, they had dispelled this doubt. Still, no matter what, that worry always lingered.

Tang Yanfu was about to speak further, but he caught Tang Ting'e's eyes, which seemed about to spew fire, and was so frightened he dared not continue. He only heard Tang Ting'e bark in a low voice: "You are shaking the army's morale!"

"Slap!"

He dealt Tang Yanfu a heavy slap across the face.

Seeing that Brother Ting'e, who usually took such good care of him — closer than his own blood brother — had struck him like this, Tang Yanfu covered his face, feeling deeply wronged. Everyone around also kept their mouths tightly shut and said nothing.

Tang Ting'e stared at him, his expression softening slightly, and said, "What nonsense are you spouting? If Grand Commander Cao truly meant to leave, he would have left long before the roving bandits encircled us — why wait until now? Think back to Yutian, how Grand Commander Cao treated us. A man should know loyalty, conscience, and gratitude."

Tang Yanfu lowered his head and murmured, "I know I spoke wrong. I was just worried..."

Tang Ting'e barked, "Still talking?"

Coal-Black stepped in beside them to smooth things over: "Alright, alright, stop quarreling. Aiyo, the Company Commander is looking this way."

Everyone started. Just then, a stir seemed to ripple through the ranks, and then cheers rose — growing louder and louder. Soldiers stood up in clusters, cheering toward a general beneath a great banner measuring one zhang and eight chi. The general rode his horse around the perimeter of the formation. His expression was weary yet resolute. He said, "We continue forward. I, Cao Bianjiao, will never abandon a single brother!"

"Grand Commander Cao! Grand Commander Cao! Grand Commander Cao..."

The cheers grew louder. Thunderous shouts erupted wave after wave from the ranks. Like the other soldiers, Tang Ting'e fiercely pumped his fist, his face flushed red. In Tang Yanfu's hands, his arquebus was raised high with force, then lowered, then raised with force again. In his heart, he doubted no more.

Tang Tingji thrust his long spear fiercely toward the sky, gazing at that man beneath the great banner, his fiery red cape billowing in the cold wind. The tears in his eyes could finally no longer be held back and streamed down.

The twenty-first day of the eighth month.

At the hour of Si, a dense, packed tide of humanity advanced once more toward the Ming army's formation. Wave after wave of famine refugees, clutching long spears and clubs, with numb or fanatical expressions, marched only toward their objective. Amid the sea of people were many wheeled assault wagons and pointed battering rams — originally siege equipment — and even some stone-throwing trebuchets, laboriously dragged along by the famine refugees.

And before each wave of famine refugees were many shield carts, crude or well-made. Behind the ant-swarm-dense famine refugees were likewise layer upon layer of foot soldiers, bearing blade and shield, bearing long spears, bearing firearms, shouting as they advanced. Behind each infantry formation were tens of thousands of cavalry, surging and roaring.

Li Zicheng and the others had already thrown caution to the wind. Several days of brutal fighting had inflicted severe losses on every camp. The two hundred thousand infantry of the three allied forces had all been beaten into terror by Cao Bianjiao's several thousand New Army troops. When Yang Shengzu, Luo Rucai's personal commander, personally led the infantry back after an assault, Luo Rucai thought the casualty count must have had an extra zero added by mistake.

Inevitably, the commanders of the three forces had erupted into fierce quarrels. The five camps of Ge and Zuo were growing more and more impatient to keep fighting. It was Li Zicheng who overrode all objections, with Luo Rucai and the others supporting him on this point. So the previous night they had agreed: today would be the final battle. They would concentrate all their forces. If they truly could not break through, they would simply have to withdraw.

As the leaders of each faction, Li Zicheng and the others stayed in the rear, on a high platform hastily erected. Watching the Ming army's formation still standing lofty and unshaken amid the human tide on all sides, Li Dingguo could not help but sigh.

Sun Kewang smiled faintly. "What is Second Brother thinking?"

Li Dingguo said, "I am thinking: Cao Bianjiao's valor, the New Army's ferocity — our righteous army cannot match them."

Sun Kewang said, "Though Cao Bianjiao is valorous and the New Army ferocious, they have one fatal flaw. This flaw, our righteous army does not have — and neither does Wang Dou."

Li Dingguo murmured thoughtfully, "What does Elder Brother mean?"

Sun Kewang nodded. "Four words: a steady, unending supply."

At that moment, Li Zicheng issued the attack order. Hundreds of thousands roared and surged forward like a tide, and the very earth trembled.

Sun Kewang exhaled deeply. "This is what I wanted. A great man should be thus." (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, welcome to Qidian to cast your recommendation votes and monthly votes. Your support is my greatest motivation. Mobile users please go to m. to read.)

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