Chapter 278: Strange Troops Have Strange Uses

Hearing Zhang Cheng's words, Zhang Zhongmou was momentarily stunned.

This statement was unexpected for Zhang Zhongmou. He looked at Zhang Cheng with some suspicion and asked in a deep voice, "What do you mean by that?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," Zhang Cheng said.

At this point in the situation, Zhang Cheng no longer had any concerns.

The reason was simple—tomorrow he planned to die in battle; even if he couldn't die in battle, he would take his own life, absolutely refusing to fall into the rebels' hands.

If he fell into the rebels' hands, his fate would be no better than death.

Under these circumstances, Zhang Cheng had far fewer reservations. When speaking with Zhang Zhongmou, he dropped much of his earlier circumlocution and stated his thoughts very directly.

Zhang Zhongmou looked at Zhang Cheng and asked in a low voice, "I know what the literal meaning is. What I'm asking is—have you lost confidence in holding the city? Or do you have other thoughts?"

"We can't hold it anymore." Zhang Cheng didn't hide anything and said directly, "You saw today's situation yourself, sir. The city's defenders have lost more than half their number, and even those who survived are all wounded. Under these circumstances, there's simply no way to hold on any longer."

Zhang Zhongmou was taken aback. He stared at Zhang Cheng for a long while, then finally let out a helpless sigh and said, "So it's already come to this."

Then a bitter smile appeared on his face. "I won't leave. Although this isn't a good place, and I never wanted to serve as an official here, I simply couldn't get away. But now that you're telling me to leave, I absolutely will not."

"Sir!" Zhang Cheng said with some urgency. "If we don't leave now, it really will be too late!"

"Never mind that as a Ming official I have a duty to defend this land—even just the fact that this is Ming territory means I cannot leave. I have become an official of the Great Ming, I receive the court's salary, and I must be loyal to Your Majesty. I cannot surrender this place to the rebels. This is my final stand!"

Zhang Zhongmou looked at Zhang Cheng and said, "You said earlier you would die in battle here, and I said I would accompany you. That was no lie. Walk a little slower on the road to the Yellow Springs, so I can catch up to you."

Hearing Zhang Zhongmou's words, Zhang Cheng fell silent.

After a long while, Zhang Cheng finally said, "Sir, why must you do this?"

"This place wasn't given to the rebels by you, sir—it's simply that we can't hold out any longer. It's enough that I die here. Why must you as well?"

Waving his hand to cut off Zhang Cheng's words, Zhang Zhongmou said with a smile, "No need for such talk. A person must always have some convictions."

Seeing Zhang Zhongmou's resolute attitude, Zhang Cheng let out a helpless sigh and said, "Very well then—let us live and die together with this city, and travel the road together. At least we'll have company along the way."

At that, the two men looked at each other and laughed at the same time.

The laughter grew louder and louder. Many people noticed them and wore bewildered expressions.

What's wrong with these two gentlemen? Could the pressure have driven them mad?

Though they had their suspicions, no one dared to ask.

After the two finished laughing, Zhang Zhongmou said, "Let's go down and eat."

"Alright, let's eat together." Zhang Cheng also said with a smile.

Meanwhile, thirty li outside the city of Bijie.

In Yuan Keli's camp.

Yuan Keli was also having his evening meal. Li Biao and Zhang Yanfang were at his side, and the three of them ate and chatted together.

Because they had pitched camp rather late, they only got to eat after nightfall.

The campfire before them blazed, crackling and popping. Yuan Keli reached out and stuffed a piece of leg of mutton into his mouth, chewing as he said with a smile, "The mutton here isn't very good."

Li Biao shot Yuan Keli a helpless look but said nothing. The meaning was obvious though—be grateful you have anything to eat at all.

Yuan Keli paid it no mind. He turned to Zhang Yanfang beside him and said, "Have you sent out the scouts? You must be careful—don't let them discover that we've already arrived."

"Rest assured, sir, they've already been sent out," Zhang Yanfang said. "Both overt and covert scouts. This is our territory—the rebels can't feel their way over here for now. I've sent out two thousand scouts. If they dare to come, they'll only meet death."

Yuan Keli nodded, quite satisfied with Zhang Yanfang's arrangements.

Li Biao, meanwhile, was unimpressed. Are you sure about two thousand scouts? Can that still even be called a scouting party?

In a battle with small numbers, two thousand men could serve as the vanguard.

Li Biao had also figured out Yuan Keli's method of warfare—it was caution, caution, and more caution.

This Grand Coordinator appeared arrogant, as if he didn't take the enemy seriously at all, but when it actually came time to fight, one discovered it was different—the Grand Coordinator was truly very careful.

After finishing the last piece of leg of mutton and taking a swig of water from his goatskin water bag, Yuan Keli stood up and said, "I'm going to rest now. The two of you should finish up and get some rest as well. Tomorrow morning we still need to set out early. Bijie city is in dire straits—we cannot afford to waste time."

"Yes, Grand Coordinator." Li Biao and the other quickly acknowledged, standing up to see Yuan Keli off.

After Yuan Keli left, Li Biao and Zhang Yanfang didn't linger either. They quickly finished their food and each returned to their own tents to rest.

There was a battle tomorrow—tonight they needed to rest well.

When the eastern sky began to show the pale light of dawn, a new day arrived.

Inside the city of Bijie.

Zhang Cheng had mounted the city wall early, with Zhang Zhongmou at his side.

Unlike yesterday, today Zhang Zhongmou was also wearing a suit of armor, with a saber hanging at his waist.

The two of them stood atop the wall like that, quietly watching the rebels across the way. They could clearly see the rebels' movements.

The rebels didn't seem to be in any hurry. They appeared to have just woken up and were preparing to cook their meals, clearly confident of breaching Bijie city.

In fact, An Bangyan did indeed have every reason to be confident. He knew the situation in Bijie city very well.

Failing to take Bijie city yesterday had angered An Bangyan, but in his heart he also knew that Bijie city was already at the end of its strength. As long as he put in a bit of effort today, taking Bijie city would be no problem at all.

It would definitely fall today, so An Bangyan wasn't anxious. He let his men get up slowly and eat well, showing no sign of hurrying to attack.

On the one hand, this let his men rest properly; on the other, it was to build his men's confidence.

When the sun had risen high into the sky, An Bangyan finally led his men to the front lines.

Looking at the city of Bijie before him, he declared loudly, "Take Bijie city, and I'll take not a single coin of the spoils! Those who want to get rich—go earn it with the blades in your hands!"

The meaning of these words was obvious: after breaching Bijie city, his men would be allowed to burn, kill, and loot.

This was a command second only to sacking the city. Many people used such methods to boost morale, and An Bangyan was naturally no exception.

As long as Bijie city fell, everything within it would be everyone's war spoils.

Hearing the order An Bangyan passed down, his men immediately grew excited. They licked their lips in anticipation, their eyes filled with greedy desire as they gazed at Bijie city.

Many among them had been to Bijie city before and knew it was a prosperous place. The wealthy households in the city, the women of those wealthy households—just thinking about it was enough to get them excited.

An Bangyan suddenly drew the saber from his waist and shouted loudly, "Charge into Bijie city—go get rich!"

With his shout, a crowd of people charged toward Bijie city.

They shouted, they yelled, they were extremely excited, as if Bijie city were nothing more than a piece of fat meat in their mouths.

Standing atop the wall, Zhang Cheng and Zhang Zhongmou exchanged a glance.

Zhang Cheng said, "Sir, you should fall back a bit. Leave the fighting to us. If I die, you can come back up then."

Zhang Zhongmou nodded. Though he had already prepared himself mentally to die in battle, that didn't mean he had come to throw his life away.

He retreated down to the base of the wall, gripping the blade in his hand tightly, staring up at the gate tower.

The battle erupted in an instant. An Bangyan's men charged upward with reckless abandon.

The Ming soldiers atop the wall were also defending with everything they had—boiling hot water, scalding liquid, rolling logs, falling rocks, arrows—using every single thing they could get their hands on to stop the men below from climbing up.

But it was hard. Truly too hard.

Bijie was not a large city by any means; its walls were only one zhang tall. Once the scaling ladders were set up, the faster climbers quickly scrambled to the top.

Close-quarters combat erupted on the wall in an instant.

The men Zhang Cheng led began fighting them hand-to-hand, trying to push them back. But there weren't many men on the wall, and the able-bodied among them had little fighting capability—after a full day of battle yesterday, virtually everyone was wounded. Pushing back An Bangyan's men was now essentially impossible.

As more and more enemies climbed onto the wall, the expression on Zhang Cheng's face grew darker and darker.

After cutting down one rebel with a single stroke, Zhang Cheng gasped for breath. He knew he was going to die here today.

He had already been slashed several times; blood soaked through his undershirt. Though his armor offered some protection, he had still suffered severe wounds.

Seeing the ever-growing number of rebels, Zhang Cheng gritted his teeth and charged toward them, blade in hand.

Just at that moment, the ground suddenly began to tremble.

Everyone was stunned. What was going on?

Why was the earth shaking?

Then, something no one had expected happened.

On the horizon not far away, beneath the shining sunlight, a troop of cavalry came thundering toward them.

They wore armor and carried the banners of the Ming army. Though they didn't appear to be moving fast and hadn't yet begun their charge, cavalry were still faster than infantry after all. They rushed in the direction of Bijie city.

At their head was Zhang Yanfang, his face brimming with excitement.

Bijie city had not yet fallen, and the fighting ahead was still fierce. Zhang Yanfang felt his chance to earn merit had arrived.

As for the cavalry he led—they weren't really cavalry in any true sense. This was a mounted force Yuan Keli had scraped together, and not a large one at that—only two thousand men.

Most critically, these men had received no training in mounted combat. They were simply infantry on horseback, and moreover, they had been pulled from various different units.

The warhorses weren't much to speak of either—a motley assortment, some tall and sturdy, some short and scrawny, and even a few pregnant mares with big bellies.

In order to scrape together this two-thousand-man cavalry force, Yuan Keli had even dragged a few nag horses over from the baggage train. However you looked at it, they seemed like a ragtag mob. Could this lot actually be of any use?

But Yuan Keli insisted on doing it anyway.

In Yuan Keli's words, an unconventional force must have unconventional uses.

Li Biao and Yuan Keli followed behind the cavalry, watching the horsemen charge forward.

Li Biao asked, "Your Excellency the Governor-General, will this really work? It only looks intimidating at a glance."

To Li Biao's question, Yuan Keli merely smiled and offered no answer.

As a man who had fought in the north, Yuan Keli knew well the terror of cavalry. Though many parts of the southern frontier were ill-suited for cavalry—after all, with the tall mountains and dense forests, horsemen couldn't maneuver freely.

But Yuan Keli also knew that sometimes they could. Large formations couldn't operate, but small numbers could still manage. So he had assembled a two-thousand-man cavalry force.

As for the cavalry's fighting ability being poor, seeming more like a ragtag mob—well, that depended on who you compared them to.

If taken to the northern frontier, this cavalry couldn't even be trusted to escort supplies, let alone see battle.

But here it was different. As long as they could break up the rebels' formation, their mission would be complete. The infantry following behind could then take advantage of the chaos and sweep in for the kill.

As for whether they could break the rebels' formation—Yuan Keli wasn't worried about that in the slightest.

Just look at the rebels' equipment. At most they wore leather armor; iron armor was extremely scarce. Such equipment was essentially useless against a charging horse.

The rebels hadn't expected reinforcements to arrive so quickly either.

Seeing this scene, the expression on An Bangyan's face instantly turned grim.

How had reinforcements arrived?

Weren't they fighting She Chongming? How had they come here?

How could there be cavalry? Since when did the southern frontier have cavalry?

An Bangyan had no cavalry of his own. Though they had the Tea-Horse Road, they used camels for transport.

Even if they had managed to acquire warhorses, it would have been pointless—all of them had been confiscated by the Ming court.

Besides, in recent years the profits from the Tea-Horse Road had all been in the hands of the Great Ming people. What share did they have in it?

And even if they had horses, they couldn't afford to raise them. Who in this region would ever field cavalry?

An Bangyan's face turned black.

Especially since the fighting on the city wall was still ongoing—this made An Bangyan even more furious.

If they had come just a little later, he would have already taken Bijie city.

But now, if he ordered his men to fall back, they couldn't outrun horses. Before they could even make it back to their own lines, the cavalry would have caught up with them.

They couldn't retreat!

An Bangyan steeled his resolve in his mind, drew his blade, and shouted at the top of his lungs: "Follow me and kill! Seize their horses—whoever takes one, keeps it!"

"Take Bijie city, and everything in it belongs to you! Charge!"

With An Bangyan's shout, every last man remaining behind him surged forward.

At this point, there was no longer any need to hold anyone back in reserve.

Seeing the rebels charging toward him, a smile spread across Zhang Yanfang's face. At the same time, he brandished his blade and shouted loudly: "Charge forward, capture An Bangyan alive! Cut down the rebels—twenty taels of silver per head! Let's get rich!"

With Zhang Yanfang's shout, the warhorse beneath him surged to full speed in an instant.

The people around him also picked up the pace.

These horses, though none of them were much to speak of—some were even quite old—were indeed war horses.