Chapter 719: The Curtain Falls on Zhuxian Town

On the twelfth day of the ninth month of the fifteenth year of the Chongzhen reign, at the hour of the dragon in the morning, Ding Qirui led the Ming army of several garrisons out of camp once more to deploy for battle.

Their momentum was like a rainbow, the entire battle formation spreading out across the front for over ten li. Ding Qirui and the wagon camp remained in the central army, while Hu Dawei, Zuo Liangyu, and others divided to hold the two wings. Local government troops and assorted irregulars arrayed in the rear, serving as a reserve force to hold the line behind.

The great formation advanced, men and horses blanketing the earth, banners blotting out the sun. Across the field, the refugee camps also deployed for battle as if by unspoken agreement.

Chen Yongfu, Hu Dawei, and Jiang Mingwu rode within the formation, advancing just as slowly.

Watching the refugee bandits array their formation across the way, Chen Yongfu put away his spyglass and gave a cold snort. "Starving folk in front, then foot soldiers, then cavalry, and finally the veteran camp's elite riders. I remember in the thirteenth year of Chongzhen, when I went with the Marquis of Eternal Peace to attack the refugee bandits at Ruzhou, they were arranged just like this. So many years have passed, and it's still the same."

Hu Dawei likewise gave a cold snort. "In the mind of the Bandit Chuang, in their eyes, the lives of starving folk are perhaps worth only a single lead ball."

He said, "If that's what they think, then the Bandit Chuang has miscalculated. The Three Jin Trading Houses have set up shops in both Pingyang Prefecture and Lu'an Prefecture, selling guns and selling powder. Our shot and powder flow in an endless stream. If they want to fill the gap with human lives, then let them fill it. We'll see who can't hold out first!"

Beside them, Jiang Mingwu looked with some envy at the spyglasses in the hands of Hu Dawei and Chen Yongfu. These were truly fine things — you couldn't buy them even with money. He had heard they were gifts from the Marquis of Eternal Peace. If only he could have one himself, that would be wonderful.

He also gave an angry snort and said with a cold laugh, "The Bandit Chuang wants to fight a war of attrition with our forces. Here outside the city of Kaifeng, they have indeed miscalculated."

He glanced behind the formation, at the rear of the central army and their own army's formation. Many soldiers were handling various kinds of earthen carts. These miscellaneous troops in the rear were mostly tasked with bearing the supply burdens and sundry duties of the various garrisons; they had hurriedly built quite a number of these various earthen carts.

As for the refugee bandits' cannons that Wen Shiyan had warned about, Hu Dawei naturally believed it completely. It was not merely a matter of his friendship with Wang Dou — in such matters, it was always better to believe it true than to dismiss it as false. Hu Dawei took it so seriously, and Chen Yongfu and Jiang Mingwu naturally took it seriously as well.

Earthen carts could defend against cannon fire. This was based on Wang Dou's suggestion, on the Ming army's experience in battles like the one at Songshan, and moreover, during the Battle of Julu some years earlier, Wang Dou had used all manner of earthen bags to protect against the Qing troops' red-barbarian cannons. Hu Dawei had personally experienced it.

Besides, yesterday the refugee bandits had indeed used cannons. Who knew if there would be more today? Making extra preparations was never wrong.

Looking at those earthen carts, Jiang Mingwu thought to himself that the Marquis of Eternal Peace was truly a ceaseless fount of ingenious ideas. He had long heard of Wang Dou's fame and only regretted that he had not yet met him.

……

At the central army position, Ding Qirui and Yang Wenyue were just as brimming with confidence today. Yesterday's victory had brought them tremendous encouragement. In their view, no matter what tricks the refugee bandits tried, they could handle them with ease and dissolve them one by one.

Driving starving folk at them? They were not Cao and Wang, trapped deep within an encirclement. However many starving folk came, that many would die!

The cruelest stratagem is none other than cutting off grain, yet with such a short distance, there was no hidden worry of that. Besides, their own cavalry was just as numerous.

Among the cavalry gathered at Zhuxian Town at this moment, the left wing under Zuo Liangyu and his men alone had over ten thousand horse troops. Of these, Zuo Liangyu had over seven thousand riders, while Yang Dezheng and Fang Guo'an together had over three thousand riders. On the right wing, Hu Dawei, Chen Yongfu, Jiang Mingwu, and their men together also had over seven thousand riders.

In addition, within the central army and the reserve force, the various officers had as many as several hundred riders or as few as several dozen, totaling over four thousand riders. For example, in Ding Qirui's supervisory battalion, though it had only a few hundred men and horses, every single one was cavalry.

In this pitched battle between the two sides, the total Ming cavalry was estimated at over fourteen thousand riders. Of course, some officers among them inevitably pocketed empty pay slots and bled the soldiers dry. The actual number of troops might forever remain a mystery — anyone who dared to probe deeply into it would come to no good end — but an estimate of nearly ten thousand riders was still reasonable.

Setting aside Hu Dawei and the other new-model foot soldiers, among these cavalry, the fighting strength of the various garrisons did not differ greatly. After all, cavalry were always the elite of the Ming army, and everyone had always placed great importance on them. Even if there were differences in fighting strength, they would not be too far apart.

The strength or weakness of their fighting power depended more on the will of their commanding general. If the general fought to the death, his cavalry under command would likewise show extraordinary courage. If the general did not wish to fight, their fighting strength would weaken. The Retainers in particular were the elite of the elite.

Hu Dawei and Chen Yongfu each had a thousand Retainers; Jiang Mingwu had over two hundred. Zuo Liangyu, on the other hand, had over two thousand. He had originally been stationed in the Liao garrison and was later transferred to the Central Plains hinterland to fight. He was battle-hardened through a hundred fights, and moreover, he recruited surrendering troops and accepted defectors, refusing no one, so his army contained a fair number of elite soldiers.

Seven thousand horse troops, two thousand Retainers among them, plus tens of thousands of infantry — in the Central Plains hinterland, this was a colossal force, which was also why Zuo Liangyu had always been highly valued by the imperial court.

With cavalry patrolling thickly and no worries to the rear, in the two men's view, the refugee bandits were at their wits' end and could produce few new tricks. Building firm camps, fighting dull battles, responding to the ever-changing with the unchanging, and grinding the bandits down in a war of attrition — that was their continuing strategy.

……

Just as on the previous afternoon, as soon as the two sides deployed, the refugee bandits drove starving folk forward, launching frenzied assaults against the Ming army's three wings.

"Raise guns!"

"Hu!"

Amid the resounding, mighty shout of unison, at the position of Hu Dawei and Chen Yongfu on the right wing, eight hundred arquebusiers of the two garrisons' fourth rank stepped forward in unison, tilting the matchlock guns in their hands downward, their dark mass aimed squarely at yet another wave of starving folk surging toward them.

By now, gunpowder smoke hung thick and choking, the stench of blood filling the wilderness. Across the flatland of the battlefield, wounded refugee bandits wailed everywhere, and the densely packed corpses of the dead lay strewn about — a scene so gruesome it made the heart quail. But the refugee bandits' human-wave tactics were no joke; one wave of starving folk had just retreated, and here came another wave, surging madly forward again.

The new-model army soldiers of the two garrisons totaled three thousand two hundred arquebusiers. They were divided into four ranks, rotating through each rank in a forward-rear firing drill, and had already fired many rotations. Now the fourth rank stepped forward, aiming at the frenzied refugee bandits a few dozen paces away. Their every emotion — joy, anger, sorrow, pleasure — was laid bare before their eyes.

Although among these starving folk, some were not merely frenzied — their faces also bore expressions of helplessness, supplication, and hearts dead as ashes — the hands gripping their guns still did not waver in the slightest.

Once they had joined the bandits, they should have known the consequences of joining the bandits. If one let pity stir in one's heart, once the frenzied starving folk surged up, would they show mercy to you? If you showed mercy, then the one who died would be you. You too had an old mother, and a family that needed supporting.

These new-model army soldiers had likewise cost Hu Dawei and Chen Yongfu countless efforts of blood and toil. They were all recruited and trained according to the secrets of victory that Wang Dou had shared — "sons of good families, distribution of land" and the like — but the silver and energy expended far exceeded what Wang Dou had spent by a great margin.

For instance, in Wang Dou's army now, none of the soldiers received military pay or settlement silver, but Hu Dawei and the others could not do the same, or else they would not be able to recruit new-model army soldiers.

Yet the cost of maintaining troops at this time was not low. Settlement silver generally required twenty taels per man, ten taels at the very least. For the soldiers selected and recruited, each soldier's monthly pay was one to two taels; for officers and such, it was even higher. A battalion of over three thousand men cost several thousand taels in military pay alone each month, and the settlement silver at the time of recruitment had not even been factored in yet.

Then there were weapons, armor, shot and powder, and so on — the expenses were even greater.

In particular, distributing farmland to the new-model army soldiers incurred considerable reclamation costs and endless wrangling among all parties, giving one a constant splitting headache. Hu Dawei and the others had once considered not distributing farmland, but afterward they discovered — how would that be any different from ordinary government troops?

Those with property have constancy of heart; only those with property possess constancy of heart. An old bachelor of thirty or forty who had yet to marry and establish a livelihood, compared to a man with a wife, children, and family — their ways of thinking were completely different. Although the income from the farmland at present was not much, it added immeasurable loyalty and cohesion to the soldiers. Every one of them was willing to fight to defend their homes, willing to fight for their commanding general.

Furthermore, Hu Dawei and the others also discovered that those who came only for the military pay and were unwilling to farm were, for the most part, not sons of good families. The likelihood of them eventually becoming camp bullies and slick old soldiers was very high, and they would ultimately ruin all one's painstaking efforts.

Therefore, no matter how great the expense, Hu Dawei and the others gritted their teeth and persevered. It was just that they could not afford to support any more soldiers. Fortunately, the price was worth the value. These new-model army soldiers indeed each possessed an extremely tenacious will to fight. Wave after wave of refugee bandit attacks had been calmly shattered before their formation by their firearms.

"Fire!"

The crackling reports of matchlock guns rang out in unending succession, like beans popping. The white smoke belching from the touch-holes and muzzles of the guns once again spread and hung thick through the Ming army ranks. Eight hundred arquebusiers unleashed a fierce volley. Plumes of blood mist rose from the bodies of the refugee bandits ahead. Then those who were struck seemed to freeze for a moment, blood streaming from mouths and noses, before they tumbled to the ground and began wailing in excruciating agony.

Hu Dawei saw one bandit soldier, his face full of blank bewilderment, staggering and stumbling with a long coil of intestine dragging from his belly. He walked a dozen or so steps like that before collapsing powerlessly face-down on the ground.

The starving folk's attacks grew weaker and weaker. This time, the new-model army had only fired a single fierce volley, and this wave of starving folk had already collapsed in rout. The Bandit Chuang used starving troops to charge the formation, but facing their own side's strict and disciplined gun formation, it was truly a one-sided slaughter. After fighting for so long today, not a single starving folk had yet managed to touch the chevaux-de-frise ten paces in front of the arquebusiers.

Chen Yongfu was also peering through his spyglass. Through the drifting gunpowder smoke and the fresh blood flowing everywhere across the flatland between the formations, the vast battle formation of the refugee bandits across the way was dimly visible. It seemed they had pressed closer than at the very beginning. Chen Yongfu felt all along that the refugee bandits today were somewhat strange; he did not know what scheme they were brewing.

Hu Dawei had the same feeling, always sensing that behind those densely packed starving troops and foot soldiers, something seemed to be hidden. But the gunpowder smoke of the battlefield had darkened the sky in this direction, and even with a spyglass, he could not see clearly.

The two generals repeatedly dispatched scout riders over, but they were always watched with deadly intent by the refugee bandits' cavalry. Every time they just barely drew near, they were chased far away.

Midway through the hour of the snake, the refugee bandits' position across the way seemed to have been still for a long time. The cold wind of late autumn blew, slowly, gradually sweeping the gunpowder smoke between the formations completely away, revealing a clear sky and making the lines of sight clear for both sides.

This is...

The hands of Hu Dawei and Chen Yongfu, holding their spyglasses, trembled involuntarily at the same moment, a chill surging through their hearts.

These are... the refugee bandits' cannons?

In the direction of the central army, the smoke was even thicker, and it took even longer for the gunpowder smoke to disperse. When Ding Qirui and Yang Wenyue lowered their spyglasses, each saw an exceedingly ugly expression on the other's face.

There, a little over a li away, cannons of the refugee bandits were arrayed in dense rows, one after another. By rough estimate, the small breech-loading cannons among them numbered no fewer than one hundred, and the large breech-loading siege cannons among them numbered no fewer than fifty.

The starving folk who had originally gathered in front had all been withdrawn. What remained were these cannons placed in front, and then behind the cannons, countless refugee bandit foot soldiers, firearms troops, and archers massed together. Behind these long-range troops were layer upon layer of bandit spear formations.

As a chill surged through their hearts, the two men suddenly understood. No wonder they had felt that the refugee bandits' banners today were both larger and more numerous, and that dust often rose skyward within their formation. Earlier, when the two had seen the bandits employing deceptive feint tactics, they had secretly laughed at them. So it turned out the real intent was not what it seemed on the surface.

One after another, the refugee bandits' cannons were aimed in this direction. Not far in front of the cannons were even more layers of sharp chevaux-de-frise. Not only that, but beside these cannons, many earthen bags had been stacked as cover. It was heard that when the refugee bandits attacked Luoyang, they had piled up many earthen platforms. In front of those platforms were earthen mounds serving as protective walls, with gaps left in the middle to place the cannons, just like crenellations — sharing a similar ingenious effect to the government troops' earthen carts. It seemed there was no lack of talent among the bandits.

Urgent intelligence came from the right wing: it seemed the refugee bandits were also using a massive number of cannons against Hu Dawei and his men. The large breech-loading siege cannons massed in that direction likewise numbered no fewer than fifty.

"This... what do we do now?"

The battle unfolding so wildly differently from his own estimates left Ding Qirui utterly at a loss. Yang Wenyue's fists clenched and unclenched, then clenched again. He advised Ding Qirui to immediately order the center formation forward, sending the wagon forts up to trade fire with the bandits.

After all, most of the guns in his wagon forts were small pieces, many unable to reach even a single li, while the bandits' Great General Cannons could fire over a li. Just standing there taking it was perilous.

Ding Qirui could only stammer, "This Viceroy... this Viceroy..."

Just then, hoofbeats sounded — it was Wen Shiyan galloping up beside Ding Qirui. His face was ashen, every trace of his usual scholarly grace gone, as if he had reverted to that cold, sinister man who had once proposed the strategy beyond the frontier to Wang Dou.

Wen Shiyan was indeed furious. He had long since stopped bothering about how Ding Qirui and the others guarded against him at every turn, but the situation now was dangerous. He, Wen Shiyan, had come to observe, not to throw his life away. If the main army just stood there rigidly taking cannon fire, even the Jingbian Army would struggle to hold on.

Seeing Ding Qirui still unable to produce a decision, he had decisively galloped over.

The moment he faced Ding Qirui, he barked without the slightest courtesy: "Viceroy Ding, immediately order the rear formation's earth carts forward to shield the war wagons! Order the wagon forts forward to trade fire with the bandits! Order Hu Dawei and the others on the right wing to send their cavalry up to seize the guns! Now, at once!"

Ding Qirui, blasted head-on by Wen Shiyan's barrage, looked dazed: "Oh, yes, very well..."

Yang Wenyue, ignoring Wen Shiyan's discourteous tone, said, "Envoy Wen, should we order Zuo Liangyu and the others on the left wing to bring their cavalry over as well?"

Wen Shiyan said, "No. Battle analysis: the bandits are using cannon against our center and right wing. That means on the left wing, they are attacking with horse troops. Tens of thousands of riders — I fear Zuo Liangyu and his men cannot hold. Immediately transfer Hu Dawei's and the others' new army over. Use chevaux-de-frise and musket formations to kill them dead in front of those barriers!"

Wen Shiyan spoke with vicious ferocity, his expression growing more and more savage.

……

Snorting and whuffling, a warhorse blew through its nostrils, stirring a ripple of restlessness through countless mounts. Behind the bandit infantry formation, dense, layered masses of bandit horse troops had already assembled. Looking out, the motley sea of horses seemed to blanket the entire plain.

"When forming ranks, array thirty thousand horses — call it the Three Walls. If the front rank turns back, the rear rank kills them!"

In the end, Li Zicheng decided to adopt Yang Shaofan's suggestion and issued strict orders. To increase the assault's weight, he also decided that the Chuang Camp's veteran camp would charge at the very front. These were the very elite of the Chuang Army — the ones with three or four spare horses per man, that phrase referred to them.

Beyond that, within the cavalry battle formation, Li Guo, Yuan Zongdi, and others commanded from within. The rough-featured Hao Yaoqi, hefting a great banner bearing the character "Chuang," rode at the very forefront of the formation, determined to smash through Zuo Liangyu's flank with the force of a thunderbolt.

Of course, Li Zicheng and the others still held some reservations. The three allied forces had nearly sixty thousand horse troops, with roughly fifty thousand riders attacking the left wing. Among them were some four thousand-odd veteran camp fighters. The remaining thousand-plus veteran camp troops, along with nearly ten thousand horse troops, were still kept behind the infantry formation to hold the line or serve as command reserve.

"Victory or defeat, all rests on this single stroke!"

Li Zicheng, He Yilong, Luo Rucai, and the others wore grave expressions. They gazed toward the center and right wing. That side, following Yang Shaofan's dispositions, should hold without issue. Before the layered cannons were tier upon tier of chevaux-de-frise. If the Ming cavalry tried to seize the guns, they would likely suffer grievous casualties — not to mention that behind the cannons massed their own dense infantry formations.

The decision was made; now they could only await the final outcome. Li Zicheng drew a deep breath. The righteous army could not afford a war of attrition with the government troops. Today, victory and defeat must be decided. They would wait and see — whether their own infantry formation would be broken first by Hu Dawei and his men, or whether their own horse troops would break the enemy's left wing first.

Yang Shaofan stood behind a Great General Cannon, watching as the gunner lit the fuse. The fuse hissed and burned, sparks spitting continuously.

His eyes flickered, narrowing slightly.

At first there were only isolated shots, but soon they came like a rainstorm — an unending shriek of tearing air as dense cannon fire rained down ceaselessly upon the wagon fort positions of the main army encampment.

The formations were dense and the field vast. Even though the bandits' cannon fire was not very accurate, roundshot after roundshot still fell steadily among the wagon forts. Carrying ferocious kinetic force, they shot, rolled, and bounded. War wagons were smashed to splinters again and again — wooden shield boards and carriage bodies burst apart, flying in all directions, inflicting horrific casualties on the surrounding gunners and musketeers.

Amid the howl of cannon fire, Ming soldiers in the wagon forts were struck or grazed again and again, rolling on the ground with severed limbs, screaming in agony.

It seemed that once the bandits started firing, they never stopped. Having overrun prefectures and towns along their path, they had captured an abundance of gunpowder and equipment, allowing them to fire relentlessly without sparing powder. Their cannons were also numerous, making the falling roundshot as fierce as a hailstorm.

Moreover, the breech-loading of the falconets was simply too fast. A skilled gunner could fire the first three shots in under twenty seconds. The falconets also dissipated heat well, able to fire a dozen or so rounds in one burst before pausing to cool — though afterward, one had to watch for gas-leak issues from the firing vents.

The bandits' fierce bombardment threw many parts of the center formation's wagon forts into chaos. Especially those struck by roundshot — bodies, arms, thighs blasted apart, entrails and gore everywhere, a sight of sheer horror. Even if the dead and wounded were fewer than from close-range volley fire, the chaos and terror it caused were far worse.

As the bandit cannons ran rampant, orders came from the main army command. Soldiers from the rear formation, hearts pounding with fear, hauled earth carts forward and placed them in front of the timber-built war wagons. The one now in command was Observation Corps Envoy Wen Shiyan. Ding Qirui had long since become utterly lost, capable only of nodding and echoing like a yes-man, repeating over and over, "I regret not heeding Envoy Wen's words."

Even Yang Wenyue was somewhat panicked. Government troops had always held the advantage in firearms, using superior technological might to crush the bandits. Now, with the roles reversed, the psychological state of these two high-ranking civil officials was just like that of the capital's officials back when they first learned the Qing state possessed cannons and muskets equal to the Ming's. It was simply too hard to adjust.

Yang Wenyue watched as one war wagon after another was destroyed, his subordinate officers and soldiers dying and wounded in an unending stream, while they could not even touch a single hair of the bandits. He even wondered: what use was all his painstaking training of the wagon forts?

The main army encampment was vast in both length and breadth. Although the bandit cannons could only bombard the forward wagon forts, the occasional roundshot that landed near the main army headquarters was still enough to make hearts quail. This was nothing like arrows. A graze from a cannonball meant death or half your life gone. When the shot came, it did not care whether you were a high official or a common soldier.

Wen Shiyan looked toward the bandit side. That direction was already a rolling bank of smoke, the figures within blurred and indistinct. But every time a red flash of flame flickered, the shriek of tearing air followed, and then roundshot fell like hailstones.

Wen Shiyan's expression was dark and cold. Though the rear-formation soldiers were desperately hauling earth carts forward one after another, that only reduced casualties — it did not mean their side was completely safe. Some of the wagon fort cannons had begun returning fire, but there was no telling whether they were hitting the bandits. This feeling of being outranged was truly maddening.

The Jingbian Army liked to bully enemies with cannon fire from beyond their range, but at the Battle of Songshan, when they faced the Qing state's even longer-ranged red-barbarian great cannons, they too had to endure with flesh and blood alone.

Standing rigid and taking a beating dealt too great a blow to morale. If the bandit formation seized the moment to press forward, the main army would be in danger of collapse. They had to close within one li and trade bombardments with the bandits!

……

Like shooting stars, the bandit roundshot crashed down relentlessly. Hard, solid iron balls slammed heavily into the ground, then bounced and leaped up again, carrying with them burning powder residue, clods of earth, bits of grass, and all manner of filth, careening wildly in every direction.

If one careened into a crowd, it brought with it a sickening crunch of shattering bone, along with severed limbs, fragments of weapons, and the like. At the same time, plumes of blood mist rose. From some soldiers whose arms or legs had been torn off, blood gushed from the wounds like fountains.

The cries of men and the screams of horses were unending. Hu Dawei and the others had never imagined the bandits' cannon fire would be so ferocious. It seemed in mere moments, the roundshot in the sky was falling like rain. Even though the army formations stretched far and the bandit shot could not cover such a vast area — only a few sections of the formation were taking hits — by the time the earth carts arrived, the bandits had already inflicted considerable damage on various parts of the formation.

Especially when a few roundshot happened to strike directly into the ranks, they often mowed down a large swath of men. Watching the soldiers they had painstakingly trained being wasted like this for nothing, Hu Dawei and the others felt as if knives were carving into their hearts. These new army soldiers, who faced the bandits' dense cavalry and infantry formations with such discipline, proved just as fragile when facing the bandits' cannon fire.

And even after the earth carts arrived, the wildly bouncing and rolling cannonballs continued to inflict casualties on the right-wing soldiers — though far fewer than before.

Boom!

A solid iron ball weighing several jin slammed down not far from Hu Dawei and the others. When it landed, it threw up a great spray of earth, then bounced and rolled on for more than a dozen paces.

Chen Yongfu watched the bandit position opposite. The thunderous roar of cannon fire was unceasing; great billowing clouds of smoke rose from that side, darkening the sky above. Gazing further toward the main army's position, it seemed that side was likewise being pounded by the bandits. The main army had already advanced, and the wagon forts were firing back continuously.

He shouted, "Commander Hu, General Jiang, we cannot just stand here defending like this! We must advance the formation — especially, we must send out the horse troops to seize their guns!"

No matter how fierce the warriors, if they just waited here being pounded by enemy cannon fire, their morale would still plummet, and they would grow to fear the foe. They could not just stand rigid and take this beating.

Jiang Mingwu stared at the opposite side, equally grinding his teeth in hatred. Not long ago, one of his formations had taken several bandit roundshot. Wounded infantrymen rolled on the ground, blood streaming from them, clutching their wounds in unbearable agony. Jiang Mingwu gnashed his teeth and shouted, "I agree with Commander Chen! We must go seize those guns!"

He said, "Let the two Commanders hold the right wing. I will take all the cavalry here and go — I swear I will capture the bandits' great cannons!"

Hu Dawei said, "How can we let General Jiang go alone? I, Hu, will go with you!"

Not only Chen Yongfu, but even his own trusted officer Hu Zichen was greatly alarmed. As a full Regional Commander, how could he personally brave arrows and stones, heedless of danger? The others hurriedly remonstrated, but Hu Dawei bellowed, "Say no more!

I rose from the ranks, and now hold the post of Regional Commander. Life and death are ordained — what have I to fear?"

He made his decision. After discussing with Regional Commander Chen Yongfu and the others, it was settled: while he and Jiang Mingwu led the cavalry in a sudden charge to seize the guns, Chen Yongfu would immediately follow with the infantry of the two garrisons' new armies. With infantry and cavalry coordinating, they would surely smash the bandits and capture their cannons.

Just at that moment, an urgent order arrived from the main army command: Hu Dawei and the others on the right wing were to immediately detach the new army and send it to reinforce the left wing.

Jiang Mingwu was furious: "Zuo Liangyu and the others have tens of thousands of troops — can they not even hold a single wing, that they need our right wing to reinforce them?"

Hu Dawei gritted his teeth: "Viceroy Ding and the others had no choice. According to the messenger, tens of thousands of bandit cavalry may be assaulting the left wing. If Zuo Liangyu and his men cannot hold, the left wing collapses, and the main army collapses too. If they are defeated, can the right wing survive alone? We must think of the overall situation."

Chen Yongfu sighed: "Indeed. If they are defeated, how can the right wing survive alone?"

They had no choice but to alter their strategy once more. Chen Yongfu would lead the two garrisons' new armies to reinforce the left wing, with the Baoding Garrison's new army commanded by Hu Zichen. Hu Dawei and Jiang Mingwu would lead the three garrisons' cavalry, seven thousand riders, to launch a thunderbolt assault on the enemy's flank opposite them. When their cavalry moved out, some motley troops from the rear formation would also urgently follow.

The bandit cannons pounded without cease; the battle situation was urgent. The three had no time for further words. They simply clasped fists and cupped hands toward one another: "Stay safe... stay safe..."

As Chen Yongfu and Hu Zichen departed, both turned back to look without prior agreement, and saw Hu Dawei and Jiang Mingwu sitting upright on their horses, their faces bearing an air of accepting death as a homecoming.

……

"The Ming army's central force is already pressing forward, and Hu Dawei and the others on their flank are moving as well. It is time for the cavalry to strike!"

Amid the deafening roar of cannon fire, watching their own artillery ceaselessly bombard the Ming army's position, within the shrouding smoke and dust, the Ming army's wagon fort had already advanced, and on the right flank, the officers' and soldiers' cavalry, their hoofbeats like thunder, surged over like a tidal flood. Li Zicheng exhaled and spoke slowly.

The men of the roving camp were silent. Victory or defeat would be decided by this one battle.

Yet He Yilong still cast a sidelong glance at Yang Shaofan, who had drawn near, and said, "Brother Yang, according to the scouts, over on Zuo Liangyu's side, both the front and rear formations are set with layer upon layer of chevaux-de-frise, and behind each formation, musketeers and archers are massed. Can our righteous army's cavalry truly charge through? Setting all else aside, I, your old man, find those chevaux-de-frise damned troublesome!"

Yang Shaofan cupped his hands and said calmly, "That is why I suggest the old camp go first. Back when I was in Liaodong, I heard of how the Tatars fought at the Battle of Sarhu. The government troops also set chevaux-de-frise in front, and the Tatar riders could not break through, advancing and retreating repeatedly. Later, they followed their horses with armored riders, driving the horses with weapons, and finally breached the chevaux-de-frise. The government troops could not hold and ultimately fell into chaos. The old camp has horses aplenty; we can drive horses to break the formation. Once the government troops are defeated, the dead and wounded horses will still return. In war, after all, there are always trade-offs."

"Enough talk. Move out!"

Watching the sea-tide of cavalry in the rear formation, Li Zicheng finally gave the order.

……

"Fire!"

With thunderous roars, the cannons on every war wagon of the Baoding wagon fort ceaselessly boomed like thunderclaps, rolling thick smoke billowing forth. Dense clusters of Frankish breech-loaders and Luru cannons bombarded the roving bandits' artillery position. The central army's wagon fort had finally closed within a single li of firing range and began an intense artillery duel with the bandits' cannon camp.

Both positions were shrouded in gloom. Amid the clouds of smoke rising in waves, long cannon flames flickered, and heavy shot traced arcs through the air before crashing heavily onto the opposing position. The limbs of the dead and wounded on both sides gave off a foul stench, and all manner of severed body parts flew and fell.

But amid the shrieking that tore the air, the Baoding wagon fort gradually gained the upper hand. At such close firing range, a swarm of ants can bite an elephant to death, and with their superior training, the cannon-numerous Baoding wagon fort clearly had the advantage. The incoming cannonballs from the opposing side grew fewer and fewer.

Yang Wenyue had also finally found his rhythm. He threw himself forward recklessly, either personally directing the battle or manning a large cannon himself, shouting and urging the fight. Inspired by Yang Wenyue, the camp's gunners fought with even greater abandon, and the Ming army's wagon fort pressed steadily forward.

Seeing the government troops slowly gaining the upper hand, Ding Qirui finally breathed a sigh of relief. He and Wen Shiyan directed the overall situation, with scouts racing back and forth, constantly bringing the latest intelligence from all sides.

On the left flank, which concerned Ding Qirui most, Zuo Liangyu and the others were locked in fierce combat. Though the rolling tide of bandit cavalry had broken through their front formation, they had paid a terrible price. Scout reports said a bandit general holding a great banner seemed to have been shot dead by a musket, though it was unknown which one from the bandit camp.

Now the bandit cavalry was fiercely assaulting the rear formation of Zuo Liangyu and the others on the left flank, but Ding Qirui was somewhat reassured. After all, the left-flank rear formation was composed of the elite troops of Zuo Liangyu, Fang Guo'an, and the other garrisons. The motley troops of the front formation had held out for a long time; there was no reason the elite rear formation, thick with Retainers, could not hold.

Moreover, Ding Qirui had dispatched many reserve units to reinforce them, and the new army led by Chen Yongfu and others would soon arrive. If Zuo Liangyu and the others could just hold on, the roving bandits' crushing defeat was right before their eyes.

And news from the right flank delighted Ding Qirui even more. He looked at that scout and asked joyfully, "Marshal Hu and the others have already broken into the bandits' flank, and the bandit formation is about to collapse? Hahaha, truly, old blades remain sharp. Marshal Hu is mighty indeed!"

The scout merely nodded silently, hesitating to speak: "Reporting to the Supreme Commander, yes, but the cavalry of the three garrisons have suffered heavy losses, and also... also..."

Ding Qirui frowned: "What is it?"

Wen Shiyan also looked over. The scout lowered his head: "Also... Marshal Hu... may have met with misfortune. Some scouts say he seemed to have been struck by a cannonball..."

Ding Qirui stiffened abruptly and bellowed, "That is impossible!"

Just then, a sudden roar erupted from the left flank. It seemed to be the terrified cries of tens of thousands of Ming soldiers. Ding Qirui's hair stood on end. He dared not turn his head for a long moment.

An incomparable chill also surged into Wen Shiyan's heart. He stared straight in that direction and faintly heard voices shouting: "Commander-in-Chief Zuo has fled. Commander-in-Chief Zuo has fled!" Then, amid the panicked screams of several men, he saw that flank collapse and scatter like a broken dam. Countless routed soldiers fled in all directions, howling with heart-rending despair.

A dark mass of bandit cavalry charged from the left flank, herding those routed soldiers like ducks. Watching the sky-covering mass of bandit cavalry surge from the left flank, Ding Qirui was utterly distraught, only muttering to himself: "Why... victory was at hand, why did Zuo Liangyu flee?"

Wen Shiyan's face was ashen. Astride his horse, he ground his teeth and finally squeezed two words from his mouth: "Useless wretch!"

Watching the left flank collapse, then the soldiers of the central army's rear formation collapse in turn, and finally the rout spread to the entire situation, a feeling of bewilderment surged in Wen Shiyan's heart. He felt that after arriving at Kaifeng, all his efforts had ultimately become a joke. Perhaps he should have just quietly observed. The most important thing now was to escape with his life first.

He resentfully spurred his horse, hatred surging in his heart like a flood: "Warlords. These are warlords! One day, I shall petition the Grand General to exterminate all the warlords under heaven!"

……

On the twelfth day of the ninth month of the fifteenth year of the Chongzhen reign, at the Battle of Zhuxian Town, the Ming army suffered a great defeat. Zuo Liangyu fled a thousand li, directly running back to Xiangyang. Ding Qirui narrowly escaped back to Kaifeng, but his imperial edict, seal, and sword were all lost. Yang Dezheng and Fang Guo'an fled back to Kaifeng, each with only a few dozen riders left.

Hu Dawei died from a cannon shot. Yang Wenyue was surrounded and died fighting alongside Ding Hu. The wagon fort was annihilated. Jiang Mingwu was trapped in a heavy encirclement and died fighting alongside his personal retainers Geng Daoming, Jiang Yelong, Wang Bao, Zhu Xigui, Bai Yuzhu, Yang Shou, Zhuang Dengke, and others.

The new army led by Chen Yongfu and Hu Zichen was scattered by the routed soldiers, then pursued and slaughtered by the bandit cavalry. Afterward, they each managed to rally only a little over a thousand new army troops and over two thousand regular cavalrymen. The roving camp won a complete victory, accepting the surrender of fifty thousand Ming infantry and five thousand cavalry, and capturing vast quantities of baggage, provisions, cannons, and equipment, as well as ten thousand horses and mules. Their prestige grew even greater.

……

Watching the Ming army crumble and flee for their lives in a mad scramble, the righteous army pursued and slaughtered them all the way across the plain between Zhuxian Town and Chenliu, right up to the walls of Kaifeng. Corpses lay strewn across the wilderness, everywhere lost equipment and banners, dead men and dead horses everywhere, blood flowing in small rivers.

The roving bandit commanders were exultant. He Yilong clapped Yang Shaofan on the shoulder and laughed heartily: "Brother Yang, it's all thanks to your brilliant plan!"

Yang Shaofan's expression was indifferent. Li Dingguo stood beside him, looking at the tragic scene before him, then at Yang Shaofan's back. For some reason, a line crossed his mind: "A single general's glory is built on ten thousand bleaching bones."

Li Zicheng was also in high spirits. The great victory at Zhuxian Town filled his heart with blooming joy, though his own forces had suffered no small losses. For instance, the old camp that charged the formation had suffered nearly two thousand casualties, and horse casualties were beyond counting. Even Hao Yaoqi had fallen in battle.

Although Zuo Liangyu and the others had fought in disarray, the terrifying firepower of the eastern route had still inflicted enormous damage on his old camp. The remaining cavalry had also suffered grievous losses. Had Zuo Liangyu not fled to preserve his strength, he still did not know how the final outcome would have turned out.

Afterward, he also learned a terrifying piece of news from the captured new army troops: Chen Yongfu and the others leading the new army had been just about to arrive as reinforcements. Thinking of their entry into the fray, Li Zicheng and the others shuddered with lingering fear. Fortunately, Zuo Liangyu had shown his true colors, allowing their side to win a great victory.

And afterward, they also captured quite a few new army troops from the two garrisons. New army troops without formation were nothing to fear. Moreover, they were not surrounded in a desperate position and lacked that fighting spirit of a cornered beast. Capturing or eliminating them was several times easier than eliminating the new armies of Cao and Wang.

The new army in the Central Plains that had given him such headaches was thus resolved. Thinking of this, Li Zicheng once again thanked Zuo Liangyu, and of course, he did not forget Yang Shaofan's contribution either.

Such a grand pledge of allegiance was enough to prove his loyalty. Li Zicheng pondered that in the future, the new army within the righteous army would be handed over to Yang Shaofan to lead.

Of course, the losses to his own forces pained Li Zicheng and the others considerably, and Hao Yaoqi's death made the men of the Chuang camp sigh with even greater sorrow. But it was all worth it. What they had gained far exceeded what they had lost. With the great victory at Zhuxian Town, the righteous army would be even stronger from now on. In this Central Plains region, there would be no more force to restrain them.

Thinking of this, Li Zicheng laughed heartily, feeling his troops were strong and his horses sturdy. As he looked around at the men of the roving camp, he felt a sense of looking down upon them with disdain. He said, "Now that the government troops are utterly defeated, Kaifeng City is but a ripe peach. Our righteous army can surely take it in one swift stroke. Shall we now besiege Kaifeng and pull out this stronghold of the Central Plains?"

The commanders of the Chuang camp and the men of Ge and Zuo all agreed. Luo Rucai's eyes flickered, and he said nothing. Li Dingguo mused, as if lost in thought.

Li Zicheng paid him considerable attention and immediately smiled, saying, "Brother Li, if you have any brilliant insights, do share them. Earlier, you offered a clever plan that destroyed the new armies of Cao and Wang. What other excellent strategy do you have?"

Li Dingguo cupped his hands and said, "King Chuang, and all the chiefs, Li believes that while Kaifeng can be besieged, we should not hold too much hope. This city is not easy to take... Besides, Kaifeng is already an isolated city; taking it sooner or later makes no difference. Now that our righteous army has won a great victory, the most important thing is to first seize the opportunity to sweep clear the surrounding enemies, such as Wang Qiaonian in Henan Prefecture, and the feudal princes and others over in Runing Prefecture."

He said, "My strategy is still to first destroy Wang Qiaonian. Right now, he is in Henan Prefecture, surrounded by the likes of He Renlong, Zheng Jiadong, Niu Chenghu, Zhang Guoqin, and Zhang Yinggui. How many of these military bosses are truly willing to serve the imperial court? Especially He Renlong, who stirred up trouble at Kaixian and abandoned Fu Zonglong to flee — he is the same breed as Zuo Liangyu. Perhaps when our righteous army presses forward, He Renlong will abandon Wang Qiaonian and run again. Even if he doesn't, they may not yet know of our great victory in Henan Prefecture. If elite cavalry suddenly dash westward, combined with the response of local righteous armies, we can certainly achieve a surprising effect!"

Li Zicheng nodded continuously, his face full of approval. The men of the roving camp also showed expressions of admiration.

Li Dingguo continued, "After destroying Wang Qiaonian, our righteous army will swing south to attack Runing Prefecture. Chen Yongfu and the others have fled back to Kaifeng Prefecture. With the feudal princes in peril, will they come to the rescue from within Kaifeng City or not? If they do, our forces can set an ambush in the field and defeat them just as we defeated Cao and Wang. If they don't, the officials and commanders of Kaifeng can only watch helplessly as we conquer cities and seize territory!"

Li Zicheng burst into loud laughter and said loudly, "Worthy of Little Yuchi! Brilliant! Truly brilliant!"

The men of the roving camp laughed as well. Yang Shaofan looked at Li Dingguo, his eyelids lifting slightly.

Sun Kewang watched with a smile, his thoughts unknown.

……

On the sixteenth day of the ninth month of the fifteenth year of the Chongzhen reign, inside Kaifeng City, Wen Shiyan was writing furiously, composing a summary report of his recent observations.

"... The relief army has been routed and destroyed, and the bandits grow ever more rampant. Now the bandit threat presses urgently, and seven or eight-tenths of all Henan has already fallen. The feudal princes cry for rescue, looking to us as they would to clouds and rainbows. Speaking of the future, the Central Plains are the heart of the realm; speaking of today, they are but a shattered and ruined region..."

"The defeat in this battle was entirely the fault of the warlords. The lesson of the overturned cart ahead must be guarded against. If our Jingbian Army is to fight in coordination with allied garrisons, we must rigorously scrutinize their character and qualifications. Better to go without than to accept the unworthy..."

As he wrote to this point, a sudden gust of cold wind swept in. Wen Shiyan could not help but tighten the overcoat around him. He looked outside. Snowflakes as large as palm blossoms were falling in chaotic flurries. What a heavy snow. Auspicious snow foretells a bountiful year. Yet the snow had come early; it seemed next year would be another great drought.

Wen Shiyan sighed. That day, under the cover of his guards, he had fled back to Kaifeng. Though he himself was unharmed, over a dozen of his escort guards had been killed or wounded. Returning to Xuanfu, he would have to face an inquiry. Closing the report he had just finished writing, he picked up another notice — one the bandit rabble had shot into the city.

"Proclamation by Li, Grand General of Civil and Military Affairs of the Heaven-Upholding Righteousness Camp: To all civil and military officials, soldiers, and commoners within the province, know this: Your relief forces under Ding Qirui, Zuo Liangyu, Hu Dawei, and others have been routed by this camp and scattered in flight. This camp has dispatched troops to hold the Yellow River; all other relief routes are cut off. You are already fish in the pot. Surrender the city at once, and civil and military officers shall be retained in their former posts — not a single person will be killed! If you persist in resistance, the Yellow River's waters shall be released at any day, and you shall all be buried in the bellies of fish. This camp, loath to harm the harmony of Heaven, has refrained from doing so rashly. Take heed — do not cling to delusion and treat this as an empty warning! Hereby proclaimed in advance."

Wen Shiyan stared long at the line "the Yellow River's waters shall be released at any day, and you shall all be buried in the bellies of fish." Would the bandit rabble truly breach the river in days to come? He could not be certain.

After the government troops' great defeat on the twelfth, the bandits besieged the city on the thirteenth. But after only two days, they attempted an assault, failed, and withdrew. Before leaving, they shot a multitude of these notices inside.

Scout riders reported that the bulk of their forces had gone to Runing Prefecture. There was also word that a large force of bandit elite cavalry was pressing toward Henan Prefecture. No one knew whether these reports were true or false. The countryside now belonged to the bandits; the government scout riders were all too afraid to venture out. The officials within Kaifeng could only watch helplessly, powerless to act.

Putting away the notice, Wen Shiyan swept his gaze around the room one last time. At last, he was leaving Kaifeng. He could not tell what feeling stirred in his heart. He gathered his belongings and opened the door. A gust of wind, wrapped in snowflakes, struck him, and Wen Shiyan could not help but shudder.

Outside, snowflakes dotted the air. The courtyard was filled with envoys from the observation mission and some men from the Sanjin Trading Company. One cart after another stood parked, loaded to the brim with the women and children they had gathered. A merchant came over and poured out his troubles to Wen Shiyan: "Envoy, leaving today, we can only take three hundred of the purchased women and children. In this freezing cold, it is truly difficult."

Wen Shiyan said flatly, "No matter. The remaining women and children can be transported slowly later."

He looked over the carts one by one. Inside, the women and children all stared back with fearful eyes, every one of them filthy, gaunt, and sallow, shivering and huddled together. Wen Shiyan said, "The weather has turned cold. Give each of them an extra padded coat, and ensure a good supply of hot water and hot congee along the road. You must guarantee that not a single one dies on the journey to Xuanfu Garrison."

The merchant groaned inwardly. My lord, this is the heartland of the Central Plains, not Xuanfu Garrison — where would such fine conditions come from? Fine, Envoy Wen tosses off a casual word, and I'm the one who has to labor and toil. Truly, the superior moves his lips, and the subordinate runs his legs off. But outwardly, he fawned, "The Envoy is benevolent and virtuous."

Wen Shiyan said, "Mm. The image of our Jingbian Army must be built from every drop and every speck. This matter brooks no carelessness."

An advisor standing nearby also sighed, "Whenever war and chaos strike, it is always the women and children who suffer most. The Grand General's order to gather these orphans and waifs — this is a deed that brings life to ten thousand households."

Another advisor said, "Xuan Garrison and the lands beyond the frontier are now full of able-bodied young men. If human nature is denied, trouble will surely erupt before long. Women, too, must be gathered in great numbers."

As they talked, they walked up to one cart, and all their eyes lit up. Inside was an old woman with graying hair. She seemed injured and coughed from time to time. Nestled against her were a pair of twin girls, five or six years old. The girls' faces were pale and thin; the two of them curled up tightly, clinging to each other. Under the gaze of the crowd, they only looked timid and fearful.

Twins were a rare sight, so everyone could not help but look a few extra times. The old woman, somewhat afraid, made to rise and bow, but Wen Shiyan stopped her. Gently, he asked the twin girls, "What are your names?"

The one who seemed to be the elder sister said timidly, "... Elder Sister is Da Nan, Younger Sister is Er Nan..."

The merchant introduced them from the side: "They are family dependents of famine victims, captured by Marshal Cao and brought back to Kaifeng to be settled..."

He then pointed to a young woman beside the three of them. In her arms she held an infant. This baby was, unusually, plump and fair, with a pair of round eyes that drew the gaze. From time to time, with innocent mischief, he would clap his little hands and babble something unintelligible. At this moment, he was tightly clutching the hem of Da Nan's clothes and refusing to let go.

The merchant explained the infant's origins. Because he had to follow the army on campaign, Cao Bianjiao had brought the baby to Kaifeng and found a wet nurse, even giving him the childhood name Qu'er. The wet nurse, seeing that Cao and Wang had not returned and having read the bandits' notice, feared they really would breach the river one day. She decided to go to Xuanfu Garrison and sought out this merchant.

Everyone sighed deeply. The advisor lamented, "Pity my people, how many are their hardships. Pity us mortals, how many are our hardships..."

In the courtyard, Chen Yongfu and Hu Zichen had also come with some personal guards to see them off. Amid the wind and snow, Chen Yongfu stood silent. Hu Zichen merely sobbed, grieving the death of Hu Dawei. The group exchanged wordless, cupped-hand farewells. As they mounted the carts and horses, Wen Shiyan looked back. Chen Yongfu still stood there, dazed.

Wen Shiyan's nose suddenly stung, and he nearly shed tears. He was not a man of rich emotion; his life had been filled with coldness and calculation. Yet for some reason, he simply wanted to weep bitterly.

The cold wind bit; snowflakes drifted. The carts and horses filed steadily out of the great courtyard. Chen Yongfu stared blankly as they journeyed northward. Slowly, as if a flurry of snow had swept past, they vanished without a trace.

He heaved a mournful, drawn-out sigh: "My son... your father is powerless. I can only hope that you are well in Xuanfu, safe and sound — that is enough."

Amid his sighing, the wind and snow intensified, until at last, his entire figure was swallowed from sight.

Old White Ox: This volume had many twists and turns; thankfully, it is finally finished. Thank you, friends, for your unwavering support. Please look forward to the book's final volume: Where the Heart Finds Peace, There Lies Home.

Also, I have just learned of the events in Kunming. I am utterly furious — hatred, bone-deep hatred!