Chapter 868: Danger Ridge

(To the Guardian True Person and that Weixian soldier book-friend: I rarely chat in groups now. In fact, unless I'm discussing something with my editor, I basically don't log into Q, and I use the two Wei apps even less. I used to enjoy them, but I found it too easy to get addicted, and book-friends would often press for plot details and such — not answering felt wrong, so I simply stopped using them. Still, I'm grateful for the book-friends' enthusiasm.)

Chaozong Bridge lies twenty li from Changping City. Over forty zhang long and about fifteen meters wide, it has seven arches and more than fifty pairs of stone baluster columns. It has always been a necessary route for paying respects at the tombs during northern tours and for traveling from the capital to the lands beyond the passes. Its position is critical, and together with Lugou Bridge and Yongtong Bridge (Bali Bridge), it is known as one of the three great bridges guarding the capital.

At this moment, beside this famous stone bridge, the din of slaughter shook the heavens. Countless refugee bandits wearing uniforms marked with the character "Shun" vied with one another, infantry and cavalry alike, to rush onto the bridge surface. They crowded into a mass, hacking at each other. Some bandit soldiers who simply could not force their way onto the bridge jumped from either side into the river, swimming desperately for the opposite bank.

The area near Chaozong Bridge was packed with a dark, dense mass of people. Looking out, behind them a tide of routed soldiers still surged forward in waves. Nearly all of these men had been running at full speed for half a shichen and were utterly breathless. Yet none of them dared to stop, for not far away, the vast cavalry formations of the Jingbian Army were in pursuit.

"Mother's leg, get the hell out of my way."

"Granny's foot, what rotten luck for you."

"Ya ya your mother's foot, you slashed me with your blade — you'd do that, were you raised by humans?"

"Ah… fuck your tender mother, you just wait…"

On the bridge surface and nearby, curses, wretched screams, wails of grief, roars of fury, panicked shouts — every variety of Shandong accent mingled together. Routed soldiers of every sort cursed, shoved, and scrambled, wanting only to flee across Chaozong Bridge toward the capital.

Many of them were routed soldiers from the front lines. The moment the great army collapsed, they had shrewdly fled toward the capital, then run desperately for an hour, or the better part of an hour, covering twenty li in one breath until they reached Chaozong Bridge.

A few were lucky enough to cross, but because the fleeing cavalry also swarmed in, trampling as they went, they left many corpses at the bridgehead and on the bridge surface. With even more people fleeing from behind, a traffic jam quickly developed.

Right in the midst of the crush, another large contingent of cavalry suddenly charged straight through, unceremoniously knocking over and trampling everyone on the bridge. The sickening sound of shattering bone rang out in chorus, accompanied by earth-shaking wails and howls. Beneath the hooves, who knew how many routed soldiers were trampled into heaps of mangled, bloody flesh.

Amid the wretched howls, one routed soldier suddenly scrambled up with a shriek. He had just been sent flying by a horse's impact, and even after climbing to his feet he was still dizzy and reeling. How could he swallow this rage?

Staring at the figure astride the horse ahead, a flash of madness crossed his eyes. He abruptly snatched up a long spear beside him and hurled it. With a fierce whistle, the spear pierced straight through that figure, carrying him tumbling from his horse.

Zhang Siyi sprayed a mouthful of blood. He rolled off his horse and struggled to rise. Before him was a white marble stone tablet with a hornless-dragon crown and a square base, over a zhang tall. Inscribed upon it in large seal script were the two characters "Da Ming," and carved into the body were the three characters "Chaozong Bridge," along with the date of the fourth year of the Wanli reign.

He clung desperately to the tablet, trying to stand. What a bolt from the blue — how had a long spear come from behind? Who was it? I'll flay him alive.

Zhang Siyi thought viciously, then suddenly sprayed another mouthful of blood. The white marble tablet was stained crimson. And so this capable lieutenant of Liu Zeqing died, baffled and uncomprehending.

Liu Zeqing fled urgently with his trusted generals and retainers. He could not spare a thought for how many of his own soldiers were trampled to death along the way, nor for how many cavalrymen fell behind and scattered. They crashed through everything in their path, racing across Chaozong Bridge. About one li to the south lay Shahe Market.

Originally there was a postal relay station here. Because it sat on a major communication route, and Chaozong Bridge and Anji Bridge were built during the Zhengtong era, Shahe Market developed into a famous town, its shops spreading out and an endless stream of merchants and peddlers coming and going.

But now Shahe Market lay in utter chaos everywhere. Merchants and residents kept throwing beds, tables, and door planks into the streets to block the main road. Many men and women crouched on rooftops, hurling tiles and stones at the routed soldiers passing below, while some bold and fierce folk banded together in groups to attack.

Liu Zeqing and his men could not be bothered with them, and the routed soldiers passing through dared not stop either — every one of them covered their heads and scurried like rats.

They charged urgently through the streets of Shahe Market. Along the way, over a dozen men tripped and lost their footing on the beds, tables, and door planks strewn across the road, and many more were battered bloody by the bricks and tiles hurled from both sides. But they merely shielded their faces, clutched their heads, and ran for their lives.

They dared not stop. If they stopped, they would surely never make it back to the capital.

Thinking back to the day they had set out for Changping so full of swagger and high spirits, none of them had imagined a day like this would come.

Not far southeast of Shahe Market lay Gonghua City, a little over three li from Chaozong Bridge. At this moment, another of Liu Zeqing's capable lieutenants, Ma Huabao, was already waiting outside the west gate, the "Weimo Gate." Compared to Qiu Lei, Liu Zeqing was clearly far more quick-witted; along the route from the capital to Changping, many critical points were under his control.

It was not really about military strategy — rather, by controlling key communication points, he controlled the movement of merchants and travelers. When the time came to collect taxes and take his cut, he would surely be counting money until his hands cramped.

This was a skill Liu Zeqing had acquired after being stationed at Linqing. He greatly valued the significance of this road; with it in his grasp, the profits would be little less than the grain-transport revenues at Linqing.

Thus, Liu Zeqing had early on assigned his trusted lieutenant Ma Huabao to garrison Gonghua City and guard the two critical points of Chaozong Bridge and Anji Bridge — all for the sake of collecting taxes.

Many of their military officers were just like that: useless at fighting wars, but first-rate at doing business.

Ma Huabao commanded a thousand troops garrisoned at Gonghua City, including two hundred cavalry retainers. They controlled this vital route, and the villages and merchant travelers along the way suffered greatly at their hands. Yet for Liu Zeqing, it was a case of unintentional planting yielding a grove of willows — at least he had someone to receive him, letting him catch his breath a little and change horses.

Ma Huabao had also learned of the Grand Commander's crushing defeat at Changping and was utterly shocked. He proposed gathering the routed troops, holding Gonghua City firmly, and immediately sending elite soldiers to defend Chaozong Bridge. At the same time, they could send an urgent appeal to the capital — perhaps they could hold out.

But Liu Zeqing no longer had any stomach for battle. Beneath the walls of Changping, the "Jingbian Army cavalry" had shattered his courage and terrified the soul out of him. He wanted only to flee this dangerous place as quickly as possible. To hell with Chaozong Bridge, to hell with Gonghua City!

Hearing the chaotic clatter of hooves behind him, he turned his head to look. A dark mass of cavalry was pursuing along the official road. Even from a distance, he could see their gold-bordered great banners and their red uniforms trimmed with gold. They surged like a tide along the official road, seemingly paying little attention to the routed infantry scattering in all directions, but whenever they spotted cavalry, they would surely press the pursuit.

If Liu Zeqing and his men abandoned their horses now and fled into the fields like those routed soldiers, they might be able to slip away unnoticed. But with his status, how could he scamper wildly on foot like a common foot soldier? And who knew what would happen afterward?

Seeing that the pursuers were no more than a li or two away, and Ma Huabao was still prattling on, Liu Zeqing said offhandedly, "You stay and cover the rear."

Then he spurred his horse and was gone in a flash. Ma Huabao accepted the order and prepared to deploy his formation along the official road. But when he turned his head, his infantry had already scattered with a roar. Only a few dozen cavalry remained; the rest had all chased after Grand Commander Liu.

…

Beside Anji Bridge, the weather was growing warmer. Green willows, lotus blooms, and orioles warbled among the branches. In times past, this was one of the "Eight Scenic Views of Yanping" — "Anji Spring Currents" — where wild geese called and wheeled in flight, fishing boats plied the waters, and pedestrians, carts, and horses streamed across the bridge, spokes of a hub converging, bustling and thriving.

With a twang of a bowstring, Ma Huabao tumbled from his horse, clutching his throat and struggling desperately.

Before this fatal arrow struck him, he had already been hit by many sharp arrows — one had even pierced his lung. Blood surged back up his windpipe and choked his mouth, making it impossible for him to utter a sound.

With the addition of this arrow, Ma Huabao's burly frame crashed heavily to the ground.

Gao Jie put away his bow. His nephew Li Benshen craned his neck and asked, "Is he dead?"

Beside them, Army Commander Hu Maozhen said, "Should be… dead."

His lieutenant Li Chengdong gave a vicious grin and suddenly leaped from his horse. From the saddle he took down a short axe and strode over to Ma Huabao. He saw the man still clutching desperately at his throat, a great gush of blood pouring from his mouth, his eyes wide and staring, fixed only on him.

Li Chengdong brought the axe down savagely. Ma Huabao's head separated from his body. He abruptly lifted the head high, and the surrounding riders all erupted in cheers and roars.

Gao Jie let out a breath. He looked around. This bandit cavalry force that had been blocking Anji Bridge was now virtually annihilated. In the distance, wails rose unceasingly as groups of Anji villagers brandished fishing spears, hoes, and clubs, chasing down those routed soldiers.

Then their cheers drifted over — clearly they had fished something out of the waist pouches of the slain bandit soldiers.

As the refugee bandits fled, they came under attack from villagers and common folk along the way. At first it was purely for revenge, but as they seized considerable loot from the bandit soldiers' bodies, more and more people joined in. Beyond settling scores, there was now also the prospect of making a tidy little fortune.

The refugee bandits had plundered extensively over the past month. Perhaps the officers did not carry all their family wealth on them, but the common soldiers did. So after killing a bandit soldier, one could sometimes find over a dozen taels of silver on his person. They had become walking money pouches, and the number of people attacking them grew ever larger.

Anji Village was considered a large village. During the Song and Yuan dynasties, this area was still desolate, with only a few households along the southern bank of the Sha River making a living by fishing. But after the two bridges were built, benefiting from its strategic location, Anji Village had begun to show signs of developing into a market town, with houses packed densely along both sides of the bridge.

Watching these villagers, Li Chengdong, Hu Maozhen, and the others licked their lips, their hearts itching with temptation.

Gao Jie said, "Alright, everyone dismount. Brothers, rest for a while. We'll resume the pursuit later."

Seeing their expressions, he warned again, "I'll say it one more time: military discipline must be strictly observed. No harassing or plundering the common people. Otherwise, before my own head falls, I'll make sure to twist off the head of whichever soldier-boy is responsible."

The men dismounted as ordered. After chasing and killing refugee bandits for nearly thirty li, both men and horses were indeed quite exhausted. They also understood Gao Jie's warning.

Not to mention that before they set out, Grand Commander You had repeatedly emphasized that military discipline must be strictly observed — or else they should not blame him for being merciless. There was also the recent precedent of Lanzhou Regional Commander Yang Qi and his three sons' heads. A Regional Commander had been executed just like that; none of them dared challenge the stern prohibitions the Marshal had laid down.

Moreover, with Changping taken, a great merit was already in hand. The post-battle rewards would certainly not be small. Even just from chasing down these cavalrymen, each man had already secretly made a tidy little fortune.

Heavy equipment like horses had to be turned in, but no one would say anything about the money and valuables looted from the dead bandit soldiers. In any case, the lion's share was inside Changping City, which would be taken over by the Jingbian Army when the time came.

"Now this is what war is about!"

Li Chengdong hung Ma Huabao's head from his saddle, then flopped down onto the ground on his backside and let out a sigh of deep satisfaction.

…

The dense, rain-like pounding of hooves — several hundred riders sprinted ahead, while several thousand more gave chase from behind.

Liu Zeqing spurred his horse desperately. He glanced back and groaned inwardly. Besides the "Jingbian Army cavalry" pressing hard directly behind them, they had also split off two squads of elite riders, sweeping around from both flanks. Liu Zeqing had no choice but to lash the horse beneath him with all his might. He could not care about anything else — if the horse ran itself to death, so be it.

At this moment, Liu Zeqing and his men were racing across the plain between Anji Bridge and Dang'er Ridge. Earlier, when passing Shigezhuang beside the official road, he had run into Regional Commander Qiu Lei, who was fleeing just as wretchedly. But suddenly, the local gentry of Shigezhuang led their sworn men in an ambush, and Qiu Lei and the others had become separated from him.

From behind came the unending clash of blades, mingled with furious shouts, groans, screams, and wails of despair. Terror gripped Liu Zeqing's heart. He dared not look back, only spurring his horse on with all his strength. At last, he saw a stretch of rolling ridges ahead.

Not high in elevation, but quite broad and thick — seven or eight li long from east to west, and three or four li wide from north to south. Sparse trees, withered grass, and yellow earth: this was Dang'er Ridge.

Its official name was actually Tangjia Ridge, but popular folklore claimed that in the Song dynasty, She Taijun once gazed north from Wang'er Mountain, hoping to see her son in battle, only to have her view blocked by this ridge — so the common folk called it Dang'er Ridge.

Here there was an express relay station, one of the eight Changping relay posts, and also a smoke beacon for raising alarms. Along the official road atop the ridge, near the relay station, stood a market town called Tangjialing Store.

Though the ridge was in sight, Liu Zeqing, having learned from several earlier experiences, dared not enter the market town again. He abruptly veered off the official road and spurred his horse straight into the ridge. He raced forward frantically, no longer sparing a glance at how many men still followed behind.

At last, Liu Zeqing galloped over the ridge. Behind him, there seemed to be no pursuers.

His taut nerves eased slightly, but he still dared not stop. He continued lashing his horse, racing toward Qinghe Store ten li away.

With a horse's neigh, a single rider slowly appeared atop the ridge, then more and more, gradually filling the slope. Chen Yongfu sat quietly on his horse, watching the fleeing bandits racing desperately across the plain ahead. Running like that, even if they reached the capital, the horses beneath them would be ruined.

He surveyed the surroundings, then gazed far into the distance. He saw Qinghe Store, saw Fuhai, saw Dongsheng Ridge.

Another thirty li past those places, and it would be the Desheng Gate of the capital, wouldn't it?

Near noon, Liu Zeqing burst through Desheng Gate. At his side now remained only a little over a hundred riders, among them some of Qiu Lei's retainer cavalry.