Chapter 171: The Uprising in Fuzhou

Zu Dashou continued, "I have heard that you, General, harbor the desire to abandon darkness and embrace the light, but have lacked the opportunity to extricate yourself. I have come this time to offer you a plan."

Liu Xingzuo was pleased at first, then grew worried: "If it were only a matter of extricating myself, that would be easy enough—but I am unwilling to bring disaster upon the people of the entire city."

Zu Dashou: "Then why not leave together?"

Liu Xingzuo was taken aback: "What do you mean?"

"How many households are there in Fuzhou?"

"Twelve thousand three hundred and fifty-one households, roughly fifty-five thousand people."

Zu Dashou pondered for a moment. This figure was higher than Lin Qian had estimated, but still within their transport capacity, so he lowered his voice and said, "The Supreme Commander has devised a plan—to relocate the people of Fuzhou from Changsheng Island to western Liaoning——"

Then Zu Dashou laid out Lin Qian's strategy in full, including how to move the people onto the island, how to transport them to western Liaoning, and how to supply food for sixty thousand people, and so on.

After hearing it all, Liu Xingzuo was utterly dumbfounded, unable to speak for a long while. He thought to himself that this plan was truly wild and unconstrained in imagination. Instinctively he felt something was wrong and wanted to object, but when he opened his mouth, he could not say where exactly the problem lay.

Zu Dashou smiled bitterly. He understood Liu Xingzuo's feelings—that day in the Supreme Commander's residence, after hearing Lin Qian's plan, he had felt exactly the same.

After a long pause, Liu Xingzuo's expression darkened, and he still shook his head: "General Zu, there is something you do not know. The Jurchen live by fishing and hunting. Though they have no navy, they are hardly lacking in means to cross water.

They have a thing called a 'huntuo'—made from whole cattle or sheep hides, inflated when they reach water, allowing them to swim across great rivers. They can even lash them together to transport armor, weapons, and supplies.

The narrowest point between Changsheng Island and the shore is only a little over two hundred zhang wide. I fear it will not stop the Jurchen from swimming across."

Zu Dashou said, "Rest assured, General. With the Denglai navy present, no Tartar will be able to swim ashore on that island."

Liu Xingzuo thought a moment and added, "Even if the Tartars cannot reach the island, the city of Fuzhou is a full fifty li from the coast.

Gathering the people to leave the city will take at least two to three days, the march will take four to five days, and ferrying people onto the island will take nearly ten days at minimum. All together, at least half a month.

Tartar cavalry riding south from Gaizhou could arrive in as little as two days.

The moment Tartar troops reach the shore, it would be a massacre in the blink of an eye."

Zu Dashou was silent for a moment, then said, "This point has also been considered. Once the operation in Fuzhou begins, troops will intercept the enemy along the Fudu River."

Liu Xingzuo's pupils contracted: "The Fudu River?"

The Fudu River was the boundary river between Fuzhou and Gaizhou, only eighty li from Gaizhou city—cavalry could reach it in a single day. The official road from Gaizhou to Fuzhou also ended at the mouth of the Fudu River. It was indeed the only route the Tartar troops must take from north to south.

And for that very reason, it was an extremely perilous position.

Moreover, the mouth of the Fudu River was only seventy or eighty zhang wide. The Jurchen could cross it with their huntuo with the greatest of ease—they could even ferry their warhorses to the opposite bank.

The south bank was essentially flat, open terrain. Once Tartar troops crossed the river, there would be no more natural defenses to hold.

Thus, holding the Fudu River basically meant filling it with human lives.

Liu Xingzuo's voice trembled: "May I ask which general is holding the Fudu River?"

"He Ping, the Naval Brigade General of Nan'ao."

Liu Xingzuo's brow furrowed slightly. He had no faith in the Ming army's fighting ability or their willingness to sacrifice.

A naval force holding a river—he estimated they could not hold it even half a day.

Losing the position would be a small matter; bringing disaster upon the people of the entire city—that would be the true crime.

Zu Dashou could also see Liu Xingzuo's hesitation, and added, "Holding this position was this man's own request, and he has already signed a written pledge of military responsibility."

That at least showed the man was no coward who feared death, and would not scatter at the first Tartar charge.

Liu Xingzuo exclaimed with admiration: "What bold courage!"

Zu Dashou continued, "To be frank with you, the plan to seize Jin Prefecture was offered by this very man, and the proposal to evacuate the people from Changsheng Island was also his idea."

Liu Xingzuo's eyes lit up: "A man like this exists? When I reach western Liaoning, I must meet him!"

Zu Dashou said, "Then I take it you, General, agree to this plan?"

Liu Xingzuo laughed heartily: "The Great Ming has considered the welfare of my Fuzhou people to this degree—how could I, Liu Xingzuo, possibly disagree? Let us give it a good go!"

The two men exchanged smiles.

Liu Xingzuo said, "Tomorrow at dawn, I will convene my officers and announce the uprising. There is bound to be some chaos and commotion in the city then, so I ask that you, General, take your leave and return tonight."

Zu Dashou smiled: "This officer cannot leave."

Liu Xingzuo was startled, then said in a low voice, "What—does General Zu not trust me?"

"No. It is only that this city of Fuzhou can also delay the enemy. I have already requested permission from the Supreme Commander for my own troops to defend it!"

One had to understand—once the troops and people withdrew, Fuzhou would be a lone, isolated city. Once besieged by the Tartars, there would be no hope of survival whatsoever.

By volunteering to defend the city, Zu Dashou was using his own flesh and blood to buy escape time for the troops and people of Fuzhou.

This was trading life for life!

Liu Xingzuo was completely stunned. He thought to himself: why was this Ming army so completely different from what he had heard of before? From top to bottom, they were all such iron-boned, hard-hearted men—not a single one feared death?

Thinking of this, Liu Xingzuo was just about to speak.

Zu Dashou spoke first: "My mind is made up. You need not persuade me further, General."

Then he said with a calm smile: "Even the Nan'ao navy is willing to give their lives for the Liaodong cause. My family has been generals for generations, and I am a man of Liao myself—how could I choose to live in cowardice?

My holding of Fuzhou is also to add an extra layer of protection for the people's retreat to the island. If the Fudu River defense line collapses, the situation will not be completely overturned."

Hearing this, Liu Xingzuo felt his blood surge with passion. He clasped his hands in salute and said, "If that is so, I, Liu Xingzuo, also swear here—my troops will be the last to board the island. If your troops are besieged by the Tartars, we will fight with everything we have to cut a bloody path through for you!"

Zu Dashou smiled: "In that case, General Liu, we shall meet again on the island!"

The next morning, Liu Xingzuo, as agreed the day before, summoned his subordinate officers to convene for deliberation.

He was deeply trusted by Nurhaci, and both the Han and Jurchen within the city obeyed his commands. At this moment, all the mid- and senior-ranking military officers of the city were present.

Liu Xingzuo, clad in full armor, swept his cold gaze across the face of every officer, then suddenly spoke: "I have received word that several days ago, five thousand Ming troops came ashore at Lushun and have already taken Jin Prefecture."

At these words, the officers in the tent stirred in slight disorder. A Jurchen officer stepped forward with a salute and said, "General, give me a thousand elite troops, and I will crush these southern barbarian soldiers!"

Another said, "General, five hundred elite troops will be enough for me!"

A Han officer said, "General, the Ming army is powerful and has taken Jin Prefecture city. For the sake of safety, it would be best for us to hold our position and await reinforcements."

This was exactly the statement Liu Xingzuo had been waiting for. He sighed: "Holding our position and awaiting reinforcements is easier said than done. I have heard that the Great Khan, in order to campaign against the Haixi Jurchen, has already pulled all the elite troops of the Eight Banners into the forests of the north."

This was entirely fabricated by Liu Xingzuo, but since none of the officers in the tent outranked him, none would naturally doubt the truth of his intelligence.

At present, the Great Jin's forces in southern Liaodong are depleted, with no reinforcements coming. Facing five thousand Ming troops, they truly are no match.

Liu Xingzuo added fuel to the fire: "According to fishermen's reports, the Denglai naval forces and Mao Wenlong on Pidao are also making moves—their warships are already not far from Fuzhou."

At this, even the Jurchen generals panicked. The Denglai navy they might not fear, but Mao Wenlong they truly dreaded. That fellow was not only elusive and unpredictable, but he had also razed Zhenjiang to the ground. There were even rumors that Tong Yangzhen and Amin had been killed by him as well.

"General, what should we do? Please give us your orders." said one of the Jurchen generals.

Liu Xingzuo smiled faintly: "Let me ask you all—where are we from?"

The subordinate generals whispered among themselves, not understanding what their commander meant. Everyone was from Liaodong—wasn't this asking what they already knew?

Liu Xingzuo continued: "We all grew up eating the grain of Liaodong's soil and drinking the water of the Liao River. My hometown is Liaohai Guard. Wang Bing, yours is Zhenjiang. Zhou Jiu, yours is Kuandian Fort—am I right? ——"

Liu Xingzuo named the hometowns of seven or eight subordinates in succession, and all those named smiled and nodded in agreement.

Liu Xingzuo shifted his tone: "We joined the army to fill our own bellies, to give our parents a better life, and along the way, to help our fellow countrymen—am I right?"

At this point, the clever ones in the tent could already tell what Liu Xingzuo was driving at.

Immediately a Jurchen general stepped forward: "Aita! The Great Khan has treated you well. Are you plotting rebellion with such words?"

Liu Xingzuo had seven brothers, all serving as generals in Fuzhou. They were all in the tent now, long prepared. At these words they stepped out, seized the shouting Jurchen general, bound him hand and foot, and stuffed a rag in his mouth.

Liu Xingzuo continued as if he had seen nothing: "We are all generals now, but where are our fellow countrymen? All slaughtered by those bastards! We treat the Jurchen as our masters, but they treat us as pigs and dogs!"

"Aita, you faithless slave who will die without descendants!" Another Jurchen general shouted as he drew his blade, but Liu Xingren struck him on the back of the head with a mace. His skull split open on the spot, blood flowing from all seven orifices as he died.

Seeing this, the Jurchen in the tent could no longer hold back and drew their blades one after another—but Liu Xingzuo had already ambushed blade-and-axe men outside the tent. Hearing the commotion, they rushed in and chopped all who cried out into mincemeat.

Amid the flying flesh and blood, a piece of gore splattered onto Liu Xingzuo's face.

His expression did not change in the slightest. He flicked the gore away and continued: "Now that the imperial army has arrived, this is the moment to raise our banners and submit to the Great Ming. I have already exchanged letters with Sun Chengzong, the Supreme Commander of Ji-Liao for the Great Ming.

Governor Sun has agreed that after our submission, we will retain our original ranks, with salaries increased by twenty percent. All troops will keep their current organization, still commanded by their original generals!"

The bloody slaughter in the tent continued. The Jurchen generals had all been killed, and any Han general who refused to comply immediately met the same fate of becoming meat paste.

Blood and shredded flesh splattered everywhere, the white walls dotted with specks of crimson.

Most of the generals' bodies were stained red with blood. The blood on the floor was half a foot deep, soaking through their boots until their entire feet were immersed in the sticky gore.

Even so, not one of the generals dared to move.

Liu Xingzuo's brothers saw that the situation was under control and turned to leave the tent. Soon, shouts of battle came from outside—that was his brothers leading troops in slaughtering the Tartar soldiers.

Liu Xingzuo smiled gently: "We are all brothers. I want to lead everyone to the Great Ming to seek wealth and glory together.

Of course, if anyone does not wish to go, you may simply turn and leave. We are all Han comrades-in-arms. I, Liu Xingzuo, will never make things difficult for you."

Having said this, Liu Xingzuo turned his back.

The generals exchanged glances. Finally, someone could bear it no longer and ran out of the tent. Soon two more followed him out. A moment later, the dull thud of bodies hitting the ground came from outside.

Liu Xingzuo waited a long while. Hearing no more footsteps, he turned around: "Since you all have not left, are you willing to rise up together?"

All the generals were filled with righteous indignation, cursing the Tartars bitterly.

Liu Xingzuo smiled: "Good. In that case, each of you command your own troops, kill every Tartar in the city, and gather here again tonight to discuss matters!"

The generals received their orders and filed out of the tent. Some went to marshal their troops, while others mounted horses trying to flee—only to be shot dead on the spot by Liu Xingzuo's men, who had been prepared for this.

Liu Xingzuo had planned carefully against the unprepared. Before the uprising, he had put laxatives in the Jurchen soldiers' food, cut their bowstrings, stolen their arrow quivers, locked the armory, and removed their spearheads.

Thus the fighting went very smoothly. By evening, every Tartar soldier in the city of Fuzhou had been killed clean.

Every general now had Tartar blood on his hands—they had all signed their pledge of loyalty and could not turn back. So they all returned to the camp as promised before evening to discuss matters.

But they waited a long time, and Liu Xingren and Wang Bing never showed up.

The generals muttered among themselves. Liu Xingren was Liu Xingzuo's own younger brother—there was no way that man would betray his elder brother. But what about Wang Bing?

Liu Xingzuo sat in the seat of honor and said in a deep voice: "We won't wait for Liu Xingren. Let us begin our discussion. Starting tomorrow, all the city's civilians——"

As Liu Xingzuo was laying out his plan to evacuate the populace—

Wang Bing, accompanied by only two personal attendants, climbed down the city wall on a rope, then ran desperately northeast under cover of darkness.

The three carried three days' worth of rations. They only needed to make it to the Wushizhai Post Station, where they could exchange for horses.

Of course, Wang Bing was not that foolish. He knew that once Liu Xingzuo noticed his disappearance, he would search the entire city and seal off the post stations.

So when they reached Wushizhai Post Station, whether they would steal horses or continue north on foot would depend on the situation.

Wang Bing walked at a rapid pace. The soles of his feet ached terribly, but he did not care in the slightest.

On the one hand, he feared Liu Xingzuo sending men after him; on the other, he fantasized about the high position and generous rewards that would come from reporting the conspiracy.

Liu Xingzuo was a favorite before the Great Khan, deeply trusted. If such a man rebelled without being stopped in time, how much damage would it do to the Great Jin?

Therefore, the Great Khan would surely richly reward him, this loyal man.

He might even be given the post of Vice Regional Commander directly.

As Wang Bing walked, a sickly smile spread across his face, as if high office, wealth, and a life of luxury were right before his eyes.

"How much farther?" Wang Bing panted, speaking to his attendant.

The attendant looked back and could still faintly see the city of Fuzhou in the distance. He said: "Master, we've only walked less than five li."

"Damn it!" Wang Bing cursed, then continued forward. He had ridden horses for so long that he had forgotten how painful walking could be.

They dared not take the main road, but neither did they dare stray too far from it. After crossing a hill, they saw firelight ahead.

Wang Bing's heart leaped with alarm. He turned to flee, but a mace came flying straight at his face.

The mace struck Wang Bing square in the mouth, shattering every tooth. Half he swallowed into his stomach, half sprayed out with the blood from his lips.

His two attendants also had their legs broken, letting out heart-rending screams.

Then the three were grabbed by the collars and dragged to the source of the firelight.

When he saw who was standing in the firelight, Wang Bing began to struggle desperately.

There on the main road, waiting for him, was none other than Liu Xingren. He was speaking with a mocking expression: "Oh, if it isn't Commandant Wang? What, out for a stroll beyond the city walls?"

Wang Bing's mouth was full of blood, his lips hanging from his face like two lumps of rotten meat. His teeth were all gone, his tongue injured. When he opened his mouth, only whimpers came out—he could not speak at all. He could only kneel on the ground, weeping and knocking his head repeatedly. Soon a small pool of blood had gathered on the earth before him.

Liu Xingren grew bored of watching. He said to the men behind him: "Take care of him."

The soldiers obeyed the order, swung their maces down, and after three muffled cracks of skulls shattering, the three corpses collapsed to the ground, twitching, gradually growing still.

"General, shall we head back?" a subordinate asked, wiping blood and hair from the mace with Wang Bing's clothes.

Liu Xingren laughed and cursed: "Are you stupid? All of you stay put. My brother said that for the next half month, we're holed up right here!"

The next day, the entire populace of Fuzhou city was mobilized.

Liu Xingzuo sent his men to announce the matter of withdrawing to Changsheng Island, and gave the people one day to prepare. Those with quick minds needed only half a day to pack up and take to the road first.

Even those slow to pack set out early the next morning.

For households with members unable to walk easily, they carried them by cart or on livestock—even by hand or on their backs, they had to go.

For the common folk of Liaodong under the Great Ming, if you told them to follow along and they'd get rich, probably not many would go.

But say which direction to flee would avoid the Tartars, and not a single person would stay behind.

After yesterday's brutal fighting, Liu Xingzuo's subordinates numbered just over a thousand, and he divided them into several groups to maintain order along the route from Fuzhou to the coast.

Zu Dashou's force of five hundred men landed at the shore and took over the city's defense.

Three days later, the city's populace had essentially been completely evacuated from Fuzhou city.

Liu Xingzuo, mounted on horseback, stood before the city gate and cupped his hands toward the gate tower: "General Zu, we'll meet on the island!"

Zu Dashou, clad in cloth-covered iron armor, cupped his hands in return: "General Liu, take care!"

Liu Xingzuo led his household troops, galloping at full speed along the road, and soon arrived at the Niangniang Palace ferry crossing.

Contrary to Liu Xingzuo's expectations, order prevailed here—only a few hundred commoners had gathered, and soldiers speaking with Shandong accents were organizing the people into lines to board the ships.

At the ferry crossing, over ten vessels were already moored, and further out on the sea, several dozen boats of varying sizes waited to enter the harbor.

Those vessels came in all sizes—the smallest were even fishermen's flatboats that needed no gangplank, able to pull directly onto the mudflats.

Further out on the shipping route to Changsheng Island, even more vessels plied back and forth, nearly linking the route into a solid line.

Thanks to good organization and a great number of ships, the people boarded with great speed.

At this moment, Liu Xingzuo spotted an old general with graying beard and hair directing operations at the harbor's edge. Judging that this man must be the naval Regional Commander, he stepped forward to pay his respects.

The old general said: "So you are General Liu Xingzuo. My respects—this old man is Shen Yourong, Regional Commander of Denglai. Since you've arrived at the harbor, please board a ship first."

Liu Xingzuo related the matter of his sworn oath to escort Zu Dashou out of the city.

Shen Yourong was silent for a moment, then cupped his hands: "The general's integrity commands admiration."

Liu Xingzuo said: "Not at all. In this uprising, it is the Ming army's conduct that has earned this subordinate's renewed respect. Supreme Commander Sun has been in office barely over a year, and with a single move he orchestrates a deployment of this scale—truly admirable."

Shen Yourong found it inconvenient to modestly deflect on Sun Chengzong's behalf, and only said: "You flatter me, you flatter me."

Liu Xingzuo glanced at the sea again and asked doubtfully: "Are all of Denglai's naval warships here, then? What of the Fudu River?"

Shen Yourong said: "The Fudu River is already held by General He of the Nan'ao navy. Though this man is young in years, he has civil and military strategy thoroughly mastered, and with cannon ships in hand, he will surely consolidate the river defenses. Rest assured, General."

Liu Xingzuo had originally wanted to advise Shen Yourong that the Tartar soldiers were formidable and more warships should be sent north to support, but seeing how confident Shen Yourong spoke, he found it hard to say more.

Yet both Zu Dashou and Shen Yourong had heaped such praise on this General He that Liu Xingzuo grew even more curious in his heart.

The official road north of Fuzhou was held by Liu Xingren, who for days on end had killed wave after wave of traitors trying to pass information.

Though defenses were tight, no wall in the world is completely windproof—let alone a matter as great as the relocation of Fuzhou's entire populace.

Thus, five days later, the matter finally leaked out.

At that time, Gaizhou city was garrisoned by Vice Regional Commander Mukun and Mobile Corps Commander Yu Renlong.

The two were feasting and making merry in the government office when suddenly a subordinate came to report: "Ejen, General—this slave's men caught a Han Chinese hunter in the woods to the south who says he has important military intelligence to report in person."

Mukun wiped his mouth: "Bring him up."

Before long, a middle-aged hunter was brought in and knelt to the ground. His face was bruised and swollen, his lip split and bloody—clearly he had suffered quite a bit.

Mukun sucked the grease from his fingertips and said lazily: "Speak. If what you say is useful, I'll spare your life."

The hunter kowtowed repeatedly: "This lowly one would not dare deceive—someone in Fuzhou city has rebelled!"

"Hm?" Hearing this, Mukun's hand cutting the mutton stopped, and his gaze shot over: "What did you see? Tell me in detail."

The hunter related the matter of Fuzhou's populace moving away. The operation was so vast in scale that even standing on a distant mountain, he could see it clearly.

Mukun furrowed his brow.

The Han Chinese Mobile Corps Commander Yu Renlong at his side said: "Aita enjoys the Khan's deep trust—surely he wouldn't rebel, would he? Could it be another internal relocation?"

Mukun also found this reasonable and asked: "In which direction did Fuzhou's populace go?"

"To the southwest."

"Not to the north?" Mukun's tone grew heavier.

"No, to the southwest."

Gaizhou lay directly north of Fuzhou city. If the populace were being relocated internally to Gaizhou, it would be impossible not to notify him, the city's garrison Vice Regional Commander.

But Liu Xingzuo's status was simply too high—nominally, he was even Mukun's superior.

Even if Mukun suspected the orders had been delayed in transmission, he dared not suspect Liu Xingzuo of rebellion.

"Impossible!" Mukun flew into a rage. "Nonsense! Men, drag this dog out and behead him!"

The hunter cried out that he was wronged, swore oaths that every word he spoke was true, but it was no use. A moment later, a crack sounded from the courtyard, and his pleas for mercy ceased.

Mukun continued eating his roasted mutton, but the juicy, fatty meat chewed in his mouth had lost all flavor.

He kept thinking to himself—what if this matter were true after all? What if Liu Xingzuo had rebelled and fled? If he fled, that was his own affair, but Gaizhou, the nearest city to him, would bear the Khan's wrath.

The Khan had grown increasingly brutal in recent years, killing countless people. If he were caught in the crossfire of the Khan's anger, beheading might well be his fate—he had to be careful.

He steadied himself, and when he looked up, he met Yu Renlong's gaze shooting over—no doubt the two were thinking the same thing.

Mukun immediately ordered his personal guards: "Send twenty scout riders, two horses per man, to Fuzhou to investigate!"

Yu Renlong said: "A round trip will take at least three or four days—too slow. Capture more hunters from the surrounding area and see if any others have witnessed Fuzhou's situation."

"Yes!" The personal guards acknowledged the order and withdrew.

By dusk that same day, someone had already returned to report, saying another hunter had been found. Though this man had not witnessed Fuzhou's situation himself, he had seen over a hundred mounted and foot soldiers sealing off the official road north of Fuzhou.

Hearing this news, Mu Kun and Yu Renlong broke out in cold sweat.

Mu Kun immediately shouted, "Convey my orders—all cavalry, saddle up, march out tonight!"

Then he called over his trusted men: "Go spread the word—say that Aita, the garrison commander of Fuzhou, has rebelled and is leading the people of Fuzhou to flee to the Great Ming. Ask the Great Khan to send reinforcements at once! Go quickly!"

Yahei

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