Chapter 176: Below Shanhai Pass, Bonfire Barbecue

Matters concerning the overall situation in Liaodong were at stake, so Ye Xianggao dared not conceal anything, and in his letter he revealed Lin Qian's identity in full.

At the end, he also wrote his personal views on Lin Qian, praising this young man as intelligent, bold, capable of handling affairs, and knowing when to advance and retreat, even adding words like "the maritime defense of Fujian and Guangdong rests on his shoulders alone."

In truth, he was simply backing Lin Qian, asking Sun Chengzong to spare him for the sake of Fujian, Guangdong, and the empire at large.

Compared to Ye Xianggao, Sun Chengzong followed the old conventions more strictly; he had always believed that the empire's troubles were caused by too many people treating the court's laws as nothing.

Tracing it to the root, if Li Chengliang had not nurtured bandits to bolster his own importance back then, there probably would be no Liaodong troubles now.

But by the same token, Sun Chengzong hoped others would abide by the laws, so he himself had to set the example first.

Thus, even when Mao Wenlong repeatedly disobeyed orders and acted with arrogant defiance, Sun Chengzong had never thought of directly seizing him.

Lin Qian was a legitimate Mobile Corps Commander of the court appointed by imperial decree, so Sun Chengzong was even less able to act on his own.

Moreover, the merit report lay right on Sun Chengzong's desk—a great victory at Changsheng Island!

This battle at Fuzhou not only rescued over sixty thousand commoners but also dealt a heavy blow to the Plain Blue Banner, severely dampening the Tartars' morale.

This victory was no smaller than the Battle of Zhenjiang—if anything, it was greater.

At present, most of the soldiers and civilians on Changsheng Island had already withdrawn, and it was estimated that the full evacuation would be complete by month's end. The Plain Blue Banner clearly had no strength left to land on the island again—complete victory was in sight.

Sun Chengzong's heart held both joy and worry, his emotions at an extreme of complexity.

The joy was naturally the great victory.

The worry was the situation at court—the eunuch faction and the Donglin Faction were now irreconcilable as fire and water, and this heavy news of the Fuzhou victory crashing down would surely stir who knew how many ripples and waves.

As the Jiliao Supreme Commander, this battle meant he had slapped the faces of all the Donglin Faction, yet also cut himself off from the eunuch faction—caught in the crack between the two factions, his situation would only grow more difficult from here on.

And the Guan-Ning counteroffensive he had planned might very well meet heavy resistance because of this maritime victory, or even die in the womb.

In his study, Sun Chengzong first picked up that battle report, read it word by word with a smile for a long while, and after the smile faded, let out a heavy sigh.

Four days later, ten more naval warships carrying commoners arrived in western Liaoning, delivering the latest battle report to Sun Chengzong.

Still written in Shen Yourong's own hand.

It described the battle at Anzi River on the nineteenth day of the fifth month of the third year of Tianqi.

Anzi River was located south of Fuzhou and north of Jin Prefecture; its estuary was extremely wide, forming a bay roughly twenty li long and four to five li wide.

The bandit chieftain Manggūltai, unwilling to accept defeat in the sea-crossing battle at Changsheng Island, turned south to attack Jin Prefecture, thinking himself unpredictable—but in truth, the Nan'ao naval forces had deployed defenses both north and south.

When the Plain Blue Banner crossed the Anzi River bay, they were caught red-handed by the Nan'ao naval forces again.

Only, the bay was too long, and the Tartars had learned their lesson, with early warning in place—this time the kills were few, only a hundred or so slain.

In the old days, killing over a hundred Tartars would have been a great merit, worthy of reporting to the Ministry of War, with all departments celebrating together.

But now, compared to Shen Yourong's own words from the Changsheng Island battle—"corpses filled the sea, red as far as the eye could see, casualties heavy beyond counting"—killing a hundred or so Tartars seemed hardly worth mentioning.

Another four or five days passed, and a new battle report arrived.

The commoners of Jin Prefecture had all been evacuated to Denglai, while Yuan Chonghuan's troops had been transported to western Liaoning.

"Supreme Commander."

Yuan Chonghuan wore a look of shame as he saluted Sun Chengzong with clasped hands.

On this trip to Liaodong, every unit had earned battle merits—even Mao Wenlong had the credit of transporting Jin Prefecture's commoners.

Only Yuan Chonghuan, guarding Jin Prefecture, had not loosed a single arrow from start to finish, without even laying eyes on a Tartar.

He had gone to Liaodong hoping to earn battle merits to repay Sun Chengzong's patronage, never imagining he would return empty-handed—facing Supreme Commander Sun, how could he not feel ashamed?

Sun Chengzong comforted him: "Not encountering the Tartars was simply bad luck. There's no need to blame yourself."

Jin Prefecture was a position from which one could advance or retreat, and Sun Chengzong had sent the Yuan Chonghuan he valued to guard it out of the private wish to preserve his life—who could have known the Nan'ao naval forces would be so ferocious, holding the Tartars firmly at Fuzhou and not letting a single rider come south?

"Yes." Yuan Chonghuan still blamed himself inwardly, but no longer showed it.

A few more days passed, and ships from Changsheng Island grew fewer, with most of what they carried now being troops.

Even Man Gui had taken a ship back to Shanhai Pass, and the first thing he did upon setting foot on land was to pay respects to Supreme Commander Sun.

Sun Chengzong was rather surprised to see him: "You're back already? Not wounded? Are there still commoners behind?"

Man Gui laughed: "Supreme Commander, rest assured—your subordinate is hale and hearty all over. The commoners of Changsheng Island have all been evacuated. General He had me take a ship back first; the Nan'ao naval forces are holding the rear and will arrive in a few days."

Sun Chengzong smiled: "Good to hear. You have two battle merits this time—intercepting Jin Prefecture's fleeing soldiers and the blocking action at Fudu River—this old man has noted them all."

He had expected Man Gui to be overjoyed at the mention of battle merits, but instead the man waved his hands repeatedly: "Supreme Commander, my trifling merits are so small that writing them into the merit report in passing will suffice—please don't bring them up in front of others."

Sun Chengzong found this very strange: "Why?"

Man Gui said awkwardly: "The Tartars your subordinate killed don't even add up to a fraction of the Nan'ao naval forces' tally—this—

—General He hasn't said anything yet, so your subordinate dares not claim credit—"

Sun Chengzong laughed heartily: "You old rascal, so even you can admire someone else one day! Enough—when General He comes ashore, this old man won't mention it. Go on."

Man Gui withdrew with a grin. He had been promoted and guided by Sun Chengzong's own hand, and was deeply grateful to the Supreme Commander.

Moreover, Sun Chengzong, despite his status as a Grand Secretary and Imperial Tutor, associated with military men without the slightest airs, earning great respect from the generals—which was why their private conversations were fairly casual.

The next day, another batch of seagoing ships came ashore, and Liu Xingzuo, Zu Dashou, Ma Shilong, and others came together to pay respects to Sun Chengzong.

Sun Chengzong walked down smiling, grabbed Liu Xingzuo by both arms and helped him up, saying: "General Liu is a man of great righteousness, leading sixty thousand commoners of Fuzhou back to the land of Cathay. This old man admires you greatly—you have worked hard on this journey!"

Liu Xingzuo smiled nervously: "Supreme Commander, your words are enough to crush me. It's true that I, Liu Xingzuo, abandoned darkness for the light, but the credit for leading sixty thousand commoners back to Cathay belongs to the Nan'ao naval forces—I dare not claim it."

Zu Dashou said: "Both General Liu's life and your subordinate's were saved by General He."

Liu Xingzuo nodded: "Exactly, exactly!"

After all, he was a newly surrendered general, so Sun Chengzong treated him with great courtesy, saying: "General Liu, you flatter me."

Liu Xingzuo waved a hand: "No flattery, not a bit of flattery. Supreme Commander, I only ask one thing of you."

Sun Chengzong said solemnly: "Please speak, General. Anything within this old man's power, I will not refuse."

Liu Xingzuo laughed: "Now that's what I call flattery, Supreme Commander! Your subordinate merely wishes to beg a banquet from you, to entertain some friends—"

Sun Chengzong was momentarily puzzled.

Zu Dashou added: "General He will arrive in two days."

"Hahaha——" Sun Chengzong listened and burst into hearty laughter, so loud it made the walls tremble slightly.

"Well said, well said. You generals risked life and limb for the Great Ming and achieved such extraordinary feats—of course there must be a celebratory feast.

Never mind that I've already prepared meat and wine in advance—even if I had to buy it all on the spot, I'd sell my entire estate to get it!"

Two days later, in the afternoon, the Tianyuan arrived at Shanhai Pass. The fleet anchored at Chaohe Harbor, set up gangplanks, and began unloading supplies.

Lin Qian and Bailangzai and the others walked down from the ship, discussing whether to head straight back to Nan'ao or go take a look at Hirado.

"General He?"

As they walked off the pier, they suddenly heard a gruff, muffled shout.

Lin Qian followed the sound and saw a huge crowd standing on the dock. At the head were Zu Dashou, Ma Shilong, Man Gui, and others—men Lin Qian had met at the Supreme Commander's residence.

At the very front stood a rough, brutish man like a black bear demon. His face was unfamiliar—this must be Liu Xingzuo.

The Tianyuan had been fully stocked with supplies, so while defending Changsheng Island, Lin Qian had never left the ship and had never met him.

But Liu Xing had long heard about Lin Qian's build and appearance from Man Gui, Ma Shilong, and the others, so he recognized him at a glance.

Liu Xingzuo strode forward excitedly, only to be immediately stopped by Geng Wu and the other personal guards.

Seeing this, five or six bear-black brutes under Liu Xingzuo's command rushed forward, hands on their weapons.

Liu Xingzuo bellowed: "Stand down, all of you!" Those men halted in their tracks.

Liu Xingzuo then announced his identity and said apologetically: "I'm a rough man who doesn't know proper etiquette. I hope General He won't take offense."

Lin Qian ordered his guards to stand down and scolded Geng Wu: "We're already inside Shanhai Pass, and you're still blocking people at the sight of them without thinking—pig brain!"

"Yes, General." Geng Wu lowered his head in acknowledgment. He knew that if Lin Qian hadn't stopped him immediately, it meant the block was correct—this scolding was meant for Liu Xingzuo's ears. Without that much sense, the helmsman would never have chosen him as captain of the guards.

Sure enough, Liu Xingzuo's expression improved considerably upon hearing this. He looked at Lin Qian's guards and said with a smile: "General He commands nothing but elite troops and fierce warriors—truly extraordinary."

Lin Qian clasped his hands and said: "You flatter me. I've heard that you Liu brothers each possess remarkable skills. In the Battle of Niangniang Palace, you drove back two hundred Tartar soldiers with just three arrows—utterly valiant. For my humble guards to earn your praise is truly an honor beyond their due."

Liu Xingzuo had come to build a connection with Lin Qian, but he never expected Lin Qian to recount his proudest achievements in such detail instead—this made him feel even more honored, and he laughed heartily while modestly deflecting the praise.

Thinking that Lin Qian was both extraordinarily capable in battle and humble in manner made Liu Xingzuo feel even more drawn to him.

He had grown up in Liaodong and had thrown in his lot with the Jurchen early on. He had always admired heroes and bold men—otherwise he wouldn't have made two sworn agreements with Zu Dashou.

Now that he had met Lin Qian, he felt an even greater kinship.

He thought to himself: "The Jurchen have boldness in abundance but little righteousness—not worth deep friendship. If you want true heroes, you have to look to the Great Ming."

Lin Qian looked at the rest of the crowd on the dock and said in a low voice: "General Liu, who are all these people waiting for?"

Liu Xingzuo laughed: "Who else could it be? Naturally, they're waiting for you—the number one meritorious hero! Everyone's been waiting here since dawn."

"Ah?" Now it was Lin Qian's turn to be astonished. He had indeed rendered meritorious service, but he never imagined he'd receive such regard from all these generals. He quickly clasped his hands and offered modest phrases like "Sorry to keep you waiting" and "I'm deeply humbled."

Zu Dashou stepped forward and said: "General He is too courteous. We Liaodong men are straightforward—not like those southern literati with their twisted, roundabout ways.

If a man held high position and power but didn't know a damn thing, even if you asked us to wait for him, we wouldn't come.

But a man of real ability like General He, who has achieved extraordinary feats—even if you tried to drive us away, we wouldn't leave!"

Ma Shilong teased: "Oho, that's the first time I've heard such words from the mouth of a Liaodong military family man like you."

Man Gui said: "The man's been received—let's not stand around talking. Let's get back to camp quickly. Today we drink until we drop!"

"Drink until we drop!" The other generals shouted in response.

Since ancient times, scholars have scorned one another while warriors have respected one another. Most of the Liaodong generals had been personally promoted by Sun Chengzong—men of simple hearts devoted to serving their country. Having fought and won together through life-and-death struggles, their words flowed with genuine emotion, and even rank and position mattered little to them now.

On the way back to camp, Liu Xingzuo walked on Lin Qian's right, and Man Gui on his left.

One asked about Lin Qian's naval tactics, the other discussed the art of fire attacks. Lin Qian split his attention between the two and managed to handle both, while also asking Man Gui to instruct his guards in horsemanship and Liu Xingzuo to teach some techniques of close combat—both readily agreed.

When they reached the foot of Shanhai Pass, the group didn't enter the city but instead headed toward the open ground northwest of the gate.

A tent had been set up there, and Sun Chengzong and Shen Yourong were waiting at that spot.

Lin Qian stepped forward to pay his respects.

Sun Chengzong smiled warmly as he helped him up and said: "Chaohe Harbor is too far, and this old man's legs aren't what they used to be, so I waited here instead. I hope the general won't take offense."

Even knowing these were words meant to win hearts, Lin Qian couldn't help feeling somewhat moved and repeatedly said he wouldn't dare take offense.

Along the way, Lin Qian watched the Liaodong generals joking with one another, saw Sun Chengzong's approachable manner, and witnessed the mutual care and respect between the commanders and their troops. In a daze, it felt less like being in the twilight years of a dynasty and more like a golden age.

Through the Capital Gazette over this period, Lin Qian also knew what had happened at court. Now the eunuch faction held power, and through a twist of fate, they had vigorously supported the Battle of Fuzhou—which was why this great victory had been achieved.

Truly, favorable timing is not as good as favorable terrain, and favorable terrain is not as good as unity among men.

If the Great Ming court could always be like this, what did it matter if the Tartars were a hundred times more formidable? Why worry that Liaodong couldn't be pacified?

Sun Chengzong stared at Lin Qian with a smile for a long while, then heavily clapped him on the shoulder and said to the assembled generals: "Everyone's here now—let the feast begin! I'll say it in advance: this old man is short-handed, so everyone will have to pitch in themselves."

The generals cheered. Some went to start fires, others went to fetch wine and meat—truly without any airs at all.

Sun Chengzong said to Lin Qian: "Shanhai Pass is a small city with cramped quarters—there's no room for a grand celebratory feast, so we've set it up in the wilds. It's a bit rough, but I suppose that's the Liaodong flavor."

Lin Qian said: "Campfire roasting—this is far more interesting than sitting at individual tables at a formal banquet."

Sun Chengzong burst into laughter upon hearing this, his laughter extremely rough and bold—nothing like a civil official at all, more like one of his own soldiers.

After a while, Man Gui called out: "General He, lend us that treasure of yours that sets forests ablaze!"

Lin Qian followed the sound and saw Man Gui standing beneath a huge pile of wood, waving at him.

"Geng Wu, go fetch a few sticks of the carbon-heat agent," Lin Qian ordered.

"Yes!" Geng Wu acknowledged, then was suddenly called back by Lin Qian.

"Wait—bring tung oil instead!" Lin Qian changed his mind.

This campfire was for roasting meat. The carbon-heat agent, once ignited, produced carbon monoxide and lead fumes—how could the meat still be edible after that?

Before long, a bucket of tung oil was brought over and poured over the firewood. Sure enough, it caught at the first spark, and a massive bonfire blazed up.

Someone skewered the prepared beef and mutton on wooden sticks and set them by the fire to roast. Before long, the meat turned brown and dripped with juices, rich aromas wafting everywhere.

Such bonfires were spread all over the area outside the city walls. Gazing into the distance, firelight covered the hills and fields as far as the eye could see.

Before the beef and mutton were even fully roasted, some soldiers and officers had already lost patience and started challenging each other to drinking contests.

The officers and soldiers had fought bloody battles in Liaodong one after another, their nerves stretched taut. Now that they had returned victorious and their spirits relaxed, every one of them was letting loose with full force, making the wilderness below Shanhai Pass a scene of roaring voices and lively commotion.

Since today was a celebration of merit, Lin Qian also let his personal guards eat and drink as they pleased, keeping only Bailangzai and Geng Wu by his side.

The moon rose over the eastern hills. The meat beside the great bonfire was already roasted, and someone used a small knife to cut apart whole slabs of beef and mutton, handing pieces to each person.

Lin Qian saw that the meat was slightly charred on the outside but still raw within. Seeing that Sun Chengzong and the other officers, after receiving their meat, stuck it back on skewers and continued roasting it over the fire, he followed suit and moved over to the bonfire.

Man Gui greeted Lin Qian warmly and explained: "This meat has to be roasted layer by layer and eaten slice by slice, so that every bite stays fresh and tender."

As he spoke, he took out a small knife, blade turned toward himself, and shaved a thin slice off the mutton. Holding it between his thumb and the back of the blade, he dipped it in salt, put it in his mouth, and chewed with his eyes closed.

Sun Chengzong said: "This is originally the way of the Jurchens and Mongols beyond the pass—no bowls or chopsticks, just a small knife of one's own. It's quite convenient."

The officers chatted and laughed as they drank wine and ate meat.

Lin Qian tried this way of eating. Aside from his thumb being unable to withstand the heat, the mutton roasted this way—seasoned only with coarse salt—was extremely fresh and tender.

The officers had been drinking and eating, joking with one another in a lively manner, but the moment Lin Qian arrived, they all fell silent at once.

Lin Qian could tell it was because his military achievements were too great—the officers felt awkward boasting in front of him—so he took the initiative to bring up the merits of the other commanders.

Most of these officers were straightforward men. The moment they heard Lin Qian praising them, the smiles on their faces could no longer be hidden.

Once the meat had filled them halfway, the officers began toasting frequently. Lin Qian, having rendered the greatest service and earning the admiration of all the commanders, was toasted again and again.

Lin Qian refused no one and drained bowl after bowl in succession.

This wine was a low-alcohol rice wine with a slight sweetness, but even so, drinking too much was hard to bear, and he could only beg for mercy.

By this time Sun Chengzong had eaten his fill, and the area by the bonfire was too hot, so he sat to one side resting. Watching the officers compete in drinking and carry on, his face was full of smiles.

But then, recalling the fierce factional strife the court was about to face, combined with his own situation and the overall strategy for Liaodong, he could not help but take on a worried expression.

His gaze shifted to another spot. Yuan Chonghuan sat alone in the darkness, staring blankly into space, not conversing with any of the officers.

Today at the Chaohe harbor reception for Lin Qian, Yuan Chonghuan had not gone either.

Sun Chengzong knew it was because Yuan Chonghuan was brooding over having rendered no meritorious service himself. Still, behaving this way did make him seem somewhat lacking in breadth of mind.

Yuan Chonghuan had strategy in his breast, yet he was somewhat lacking in tolerance for others, and thought highly of himself. If he one day became Supreme Commander of Ji-Liao, who knew whether that would be a blessing or a curse.

Sun Chengzong sighed inwardly, then looked back at Lin Qian. This man was quite capable—his naval forces had already achieved three great victories at Zhenjiang, Macao, and Fuzhou—and he did not grow arrogant from his achievements, earning the deep respect of the Liaodong officers. Perhaps he too would be a fine candidate to succeed as Supreme Commander of Liaodong.

With this thought, Sun Chengzong beckoned Lin Qian over.

"Supreme Commander." Lin Qian saluted.

Sun Chengzong had Lin Qian sit down beside him. After some idle chat, he changed the subject and asked: "Now that the Battle of Fuzhou is over, what plans does the General have for the future?"

Lin Qian said: "I was just about to report to the Supreme Commander. After my forces replenish a few days' supplies, we will return to Nan'ao."

Sun Chengzong was slightly surprised: "In this Liaodong campaign, the General has earned no small merit. I was thinking of submitting a memorial to the court to have the General transferred to Liaodong, so that you might render even greater distinguished service."

Lin Qian smiled bitterly: "After this battle, the Tartars will likely abandon the entire southern Liaodong region. There will be no more place for naval forces to operate in Liaodong."

As he spoke, Lin Qian picked up a tree branch and drew a map of Liaodong in the sandy ground.

"From Jin Prefecture to the northwest lie Fuzhou, Gaizhou, Haizhou, and Liaoyang. The Tartars should abandon everything south of Haizhou and move the populace inland.

To the northeast of Jin Prefecture, the only major city, Zhenjiang, has already been destroyed. And since that area is all under threat from the Ming forces on Pidao, the Tartars will not garrison it either."

As Lin Qian spoke, he drew a circle with Liaoyang and Shenyang at its center.

"This area lies deep inland, with fertile fields everywhere and vast land with sparse population—enough for the Tartars to build a great rear base."

These words were not only Lin Qian's inference based on the situation—historically, this was exactly what happened.

Sun Chengzong pondered for a moment and found this inference extremely reasonable. As early as the Battle of Fuzhou, Sun Chengzong had already admired Lin Qian's strategic vision, and now he was even more impressed. He asked in detail: "In your view, how will the Jianzhou barbarians act from now on?"

Lin Qian said: "The Jianzhou barbarians will do three things. First, they will continue their campaigns to the north, plundering the populations of the other Jurchen tribes.

Second, they will expand westward, using marriage alliances and warfare to win over the Khorchin and other Mongol tribes. Third, they will send troops eastward, attacking the Yi dynasty and cutting off Pidao's overland supply lines."

Sun Chengzong nodded inwardly—these views coincided with his own thinking. Somewhat eagerly, he pressed: "Does the General have a way to counter this?"

Lin Qian slowly shook his head: "The Supreme Commander's strategy of defending while attacking—gradually encroaching on the Jianzhou barbarians through the construction of border forts and strongholds—is already the best policy. But this strategy takes a very long time. How long can the court sustain it?"

Sun Chengzong felt as if a basin of cold water had been poured over him from head to toe. He knew what Lin Qian really meant to say: how much longer could he himself, this Supreme Commander of Ji-Liao, remain in his post?

His strategy for recovering Liaodong would perhaps take ten or twenty years to show results. Could the court afford to wait? Could he himself afford to wait?

Sun Chengzong had in fact long since seen this point himself.

Before taking office, he had believed that with his status as Grand Secretary and Imperial Tutor, he could forcibly push through his plan to pacify Liaodong. But only when he actually sat in this position did he understand how difficult the affairs of state truly were.

The blades in the court were far sharper than the weapons of the Tartars.

The defeat at Guangning had caused Ye Xianggao to take responsibility and retire from office. Sun Chengzong had never agreed with that, but now he understood.

Sun Chengzong laughed at himself, picked up his wine bowl, and said: "Enough. Today we celebrate merit—no talk of official business. Drink!"

Even if his efforts were ultimately doomed to fail, Sun Chengzong would hold on until the very last day. Every fortress in western Liaoning that could be built would be built—even if it could hold the Tartars back for only a brief moment when they came.

Lin Qian greatly admired Sun Chengzong's resilience and open-mindedness. He raised his cup and drained it in one go.

After setting down his cup, Lin Qian said: "Geng Wu!"

Geng Wu, who had been bragging by the bonfire, heard the call and immediately ran over.

"Bring out the cement mortar."

Geng Wu took a paper package from his breast, opened it, and inside was a gray-black powder.

Lin Qian said: "This is cement mortar. Mix it with water and use it—it dries and sets in over thirty days. Its strength is slightly inferior to glutinous rice mortar, but it's more than enough for building city walls."

Sun Chengzong set down his wine bowl, his eyes going wide: "Truly?"

Lin Qian said: "It's already been used on Nan'ao Island. Tomorrow morning, I'll send someone to inform the Supreme Commander of the method for making cement. But this method must be kept strictly secret—the court must not learn of it, and certainly the Tartars must not steal it."

Sun Chengzong's face flushed with excitement: "Naturally!"

The Great Ming court had no shortage of Tartar spies. If the court learned of this substance's existence, sooner or later the Tartars would know of it too.

And cannons were not afraid of cement. Even if the cement leaked out, as long as the Great Ming did not extensively build star forts, city walls would remain as flimsy as paper.

Then Lin Qian added: "Besides the cement, there are also twenty muzzle-loading smoothbore cannons, which I present to the Supreme Commander as well."

"This—" Sun Chengzong's voice choked with emotion.

Yahei

Pink Round

Pen