Chapter 190: War Begins

Wang Yan understood now, and he didn't bother dividing into squads—he led his band of followers around to the rear of Shengjing, beginning raids northward toward Changchun along the provincial border between Liaoning and Jilin.

Offensive operations are far easier than defense, especially when led by elite squads like Wang Yan's. Liaodong was such a vast territory that no one knew where he would strike next or from where he would emerge.

And indeed, Huang Taiji lived up to expectations—he still kept heavy forces guarding the vicinity of Shengjing. As always: when it's empty, make it seem full; when it's full, make it seem empty. After Wang Yan's last defeat and near-annihilation, common sense suggested he'd avoid Shengjing entirely and instead target remote areas for sabotage.

But someone like Wang Yan, who had tormented them all winter and toyed with them, wouldn't do that. After suffering such a heavy loss and nearly dying there, he'd surely want to reclaim his honor. Put yourself in Huang Taiji's shoes—if Huang Taiji were Wang Yan, he'd strike Shengjing again, certain there'd be no ambush this time. So Huang Taiji did the opposite—set another ambush.

In short, Huang Taiji based his decision on past records and gambled that Wang Yan would return.

But this time, Wang Yan was three levels ahead—he hadn't even considered how determined Huang Taiji had been to kill him last time. This time, he didn't bother analyzing Huang Taiji's thoughts, his deployments, or engaging in some distant tactical duel.

His thinking was simple: Later Jin had mobilized forty thousand troops against Korea; their interior must be hollow. After his last defeat, whether Huang Taiji was a tactical genius or simply cowardly, he wouldn't risk himself. Power is poison—not everyone who's been in power four months dares to gamble with his own life. After all, Wang Yan had actually gone there before and used explosives to kill many of them. Wang Yan didn't believe Huang Taiji hadn't seen that power—and didn't believe the old bastard would dare play an empty city ruse on him.

Add to that internal rebellions requiring troops for stability, and their forces would inevitably be scattered. With Shengjing concentrating the bulk of the remaining troops, every other location—each and every one—likely had no more than three hundred regular soldiers, barely a single niu lu, at most under a thousand.

He avoided places with many troops; places with few were too few to kill enough to break them.

In fact, even if thousands chased him, Wang Yan and his men could still kill them using Mobile Corps Commander tactics and kite-fighting—so long as they weren't surrounded and cornered, the situation was basically fine.

So this time, Wang Yan's strike was like walking through an empty land. He didn't split his forces; he led from the front, charging ahead. Dozens of his old subordinates who hadn't changed roles were still with him, providing a solid framework to keep the battle formation intact—in short, four words: kill whoever you find.

In truth, Huang Taiji had recruited many new soldiers in his four months in power, but they hadn't experienced major battles and weren't yet combat-ready. Put bluntly, to Wang Yan's five hundred men, those troops were utterly inferior. After all, his reputation was there, the severed heads flying from horseback were there, and seeing that blood-soaked force charging toward them left few unafraid.

Of course, those who weren't afraid didn't live long—the braver they were, the faster they died. Wang Shou's two-stone bow aimed precisely, calling out targets one by one—he was determined to shatter their morale entirely.

Once Huang Taiji finished Korea, he'd turn on Great Ming next, and then Zhu Youxiao would have to flee. So this time, Wang Yan wasn't holding back—he took along every Han civilian who dared mount a horse and fight after being plundered. So while they slaughtered enemies, seized heads, and captured horses and armor ahead, behind them they armed the surviving Han civilians and led them into charge.

Wang Yan wasn't using them as cannon fodder—they were truly done living. Previously, they hadn't rebelled only because fear had dominated their hearts; they were all miserable souls terrified of death. Now Wang Yan had come—he'd tormented them all winter—and as long as he wasn't Later Jin, no matter where he came from, if he could kill like this, anyone who joined him would risk their life.

At first, these men were useless—mainly lacking confidence. But once they survived one or two rounds and participated in one or two victories, there was no need to say more—they charged forward roaring. New recruits, seeing how fierce they were, quickly matched their spirit.

Of course, these people remained a minority. Most had long lost their fighting spirit and chose to cling to life in despair.

But even as a minority, the Han population in Later Jin territory numbered in the hundreds of thousands—they'd captured them repeatedly over the years to serve as slaves and beasts of burden.

Wang Yan's forces grew with every battle, all hardened veterans who'd seen real combat. They lacked nothing in experience; the only shortcoming was prolonged hardship in this land, leaving their bodies worn down—if they survived and returned with him, a period of rest would turn them all into elite troops.

When Huang Taiji learned Wang Yan had returned, it was already three days later—five villages had been slaughtered, and nearly a thousand combat troops lost.

Without hesitation, he dispatched every available force except those guarding Shengjing. Of course, he knew it was futile—after all, they'd already done this before and been toyed with all winter.

But he had no choice—if he let Wang Yan keep killing, by the time his troops returned from Korea, every banner man might be dead. The banner lords who returned would surely not spare him—he'd be doomed anyway.

While sending troops to hunt Wang Yan, he also hurriedly gathered his men to implement the policy of merging villages into towns—essentially early urbanization.

Though this would consume enormous resources, strain their finances, and delay spring planting—possibly leaving them without enough supplies even after finishing Korea—the cities could wait, but the population must be concentrated. Only then could troops be concentrated, deterring enemies from daring to invade.

Likewise, concentrating population and resources would concentrate development, boosting their economy to some degree. As for delaying spring planting… they relied mostly on plunder anyway; even farming was done by Han slaves toiling like beasts.

As always—he had no choice. He simply had no way to stop Wang Yan; if he'd had any other option, Wang Yan wouldn't have roamed free this long. The last time was his greatest success—and yet Wang Yan still crushed him with a single bomb. That damn explosive's power was real—it blew entire groups to pieces.

Affected by this, Huang Taiji had already ordered craftsmen to study firearms. Also, considering Wang Yan's actions and the prior situation with Mao Wenlong, plus the frequent violent clashes between banner men and Han civilians, he had begun promoting Manchu-Han integration to some extent, offering Han civilians slightly better treatment—but still treating them like beasts of burden.

After arranging these matters, Huang Taiji could no longer concern himself with Wang Yan—he personally led troops to the front to supervise the campaign. They had to finish Korea quickly and achieve great results; otherwise, their logistics would collapse.

Wang Yan didn't know any of this—he simply led his men to toy with the Later Jin troops chasing him, occasionally kite-fighting them, thoroughly mastering the principle: when the enemy advances, we retreat; when the enemy retreats, we harass.

This campaign lasted until mid-April, when he returned with over a thousand men and more than three thousand enemy heads. The victory was spectacular, largely because Wang Yan lifted restrictions—many desperate Han civilians joined as cannon fodder. First, they knew the terrain well and struck with precision; second, they weren't afraid of death and charged fiercely under his leadership.

He didn't want to return—this victory wasn't his goal—but he had no choice. Huang Taiji had gone mad.

Under dual pressure from Wang Yan's raids in the rear and strained logistics, Huang Taiji forced Korea to surrender, submit as a vassal, and pay tribute within three months—then returned with his victorious troops to hunt Wang Yan. Add to this one month: Huang Taiji's village-merging policy had been implemented effectively—lonely villages were hard to find, and every adult male had been armed with weapons and armor, organized into town militias.

After finishing Korea, Huang Taiji would likely launch his attack on Great Ming within a week—rest, then strike with the momentum of victory.

Wang Yan had crippled Later Jin not just because he was a brilliant Mobile Corps Commander fighter, but because Later Jin was far weaker and less invincible than imagined.

Even if Wang Yan were the strongest warrior, he was still only a hundred-man killer. With a few hundred men, he'd disrupted them all winter—mainly because Later Jin's foundation was thin.

Great Ming had been chased and beaten, losing Liaodong entirely, because of its own internal entanglements and chaotic power struggles.

The court officials didn't care much about Later Jin—they were busy with factional infighting. Who had time to care about a bunch of uncivilized, barbaric outsiders? Mutual sabotage and rampant corruption had allowed Later Jin to grow.

Even now in Liaodong, the Donglin Faction and Wei Zhongxian's faction clashed daily—endless chaos.

In truth, even if Wang Yan slaughtered every banner man, Great Ming would still collapse. It had something to do with Later Jin—but it wasn't decisive.

Of course, that's what he said—but Wang Yan wouldn't do that. If he overplayed his hand, and Zhu Youjian ascended the throne and started meddling, and somehow managed to revive Great Ming, where would he go to plead his case? Better not invite trouble.

Back at base, after one night's rest, Sun Fugui and others handled the arrangements for the returning men and the compensation for the fallen. The next day, Wang Yan led his men, escorting a convoy of carts filled with heads, toward the Shanhai Pass Garrison Commander's Office.

"Was this mission successful? Were you injured again?"

After paying respects, Man Gui smiled at Wang Yan.

"Everything went smoothly. This time, I've taken over three thousand enemy heads."

"Huh?" Man Gui stared at Wang Yan in surprise: "Why so many this time?"

"Your Lordship, it's because Huang Taiji mobilized forty thousand troops…"

Wang Yan gave Man Gui a general overview of the situation in Later Jin territory and his own forces—after all, such information couldn't be hidden if you served under him.

After finishing, Wang Yan looked at Man Gui, who nodded repeatedly, then shifted tone: "Precisely because of this, I estimate they won't wait long—Huang Taiji will soon launch an attack on Great Ming. Your Lordship should prepare early."

Man Gui frowned: "Is that truly the case?"

"Absolutely, Your Lordship."

"If so, then with their village-merging and massive construction, and arming every adult male, their resources are stretched too thin—they can't sustain this long. Huang Taiji must act. His targets are only two: the Mongol Chahar tribe, or Great Ming. Great Ming's resources far exceed those of the Mongols, and with their victory over Korea, morale is high. It's nearly certain they'll attack us."

Man Gui analyzed aloud, then looked at Wang Yan in astonishment: "You're impressing me more and more—I never thought you could think this deeply…"

These words were a bit humiliating. Wang Yan internally grumbled, but grinned and scratched his head: "Just wild guesses, wild guesses. Your Lordship's reasoning is far clearer—you're right. I'm nowhere near your level—I'd need eight hundred years to catch up."

"I'd love for you to catch up in eight hundred years—but I won't live that long." Man Gui shook his head, made a small joke, then grew serious: "I've noted this. Don't concern yourself further. As for these heads, I'll send them to Jingcheng for the Emperor."

"But if war truly breaks out, you must perform well. I can't promise victory—but if you hold the line, with your past merits, you'll surely be promoted to General as a Mobile Corps Commander. How long has it been? Just over a year. If you weren't so young and lacked authority, the Emperor might even make you a Assistant Regional Commander. Truly… hmm… you've got talent and luck."

Wang Yan smiled and bowed: "All thanks to Your Lordship's favor and guidance…"

Man Gui glanced at Wang Yan, saying nothing—he knew what he'd done. His greatest help to Wang Yan was merely connecting him to the Emperor in Jingcheng. As for the rest—forget it.

The only thing remotely helpful was promoting him to a Company Commander after Ningyuan—but that was Wang Yan's own doing. Everything since then has been Wang Yan looking out for him—or, to put it nicely, mutual benefit. Even without Man Gui as Garrison Commander, someone else would've risen just the same.

Seeing he said nothing, Wang Yan knew the matter was settled. He rose and said: "Any further orders, Your Lordship? If not, I'll take my leave."

Man Gui waved him off: "Go."

Wang Yan bowed his fists in salute and turned to leave. Outside, he called for the young men who had come with him, and they galloped toward the garrison.

After Wang Yan left, Man Gui sat alone in deep thought.

He was thinking about the matter of defeat and beheading—he wasn't an idiot; how could he not understand this? At first, when Wang Yan's dozen or so men moved quietly, it was fine. Later, hundreds of them went out—and now, over a thousand returned. Who the hell do they think they're fooling?

After a while of idle speculation, Man Gui skillfully picked up his brush and wrote a secret memorial—merely a routine report on Wang Yan's battlefield achievements.

This was the final victory report. If they held out, Wang Yan's position at that time would no longer require such measures. If they failed and the Jianzhou Jurchens crushed them again, both of them would be dead—what use would secret memorials be then?

So as Man Gui wrote, his emotions were complex: wealth or beheading hinged entirely on this one gamble—his entire fortune and life rested on this battle.

He reviewed it once more, confirmed it was correct, sealed it in an envelope, stamped it with the secret seal, and summoned a trusted subordinate to deliver it along with the several carts of severed heads.

Man Gui stared silently at the group of loyal subordinates heading south…

Because they had left early in the morning and returned at full gallop, Wang Yan arrived at the garrison just in time for lunch.

He found the officers' dining area and ate with Sun Fugui and the others.

His officers all had private kitchens; their rations weren't much better than the common soldiers', just a bit more fresh vegetables.

Wang Mou didn't play at eating and sleeping with the troops, pretending to love them like sons—if he had no means, fine. But if he had the means, why waste time on useless theatrics? Pay them well, give them proper treatment—that's real. And a slight difference like this stirs up the common soldiers' competitiveness—perfectly balanced.

Moreover, most of his officers had risen step by step from the ranks; no one had reason to resent it. As for a few like Sun Fugui, they had followed Wang Yan since the beginning, constantly improving, never falling behind—he was right to promote them.

Appointing relatives or the capable—everyone has their own scale. Though Wang Yan didn't care for anyone, truthfully, he was a little more lenient toward Sun Fugui and the others—it was unavoidable.

The food wasn't special: chicken, pork, some fish caught from the nearby stream, and a few green vegetables. This was the best Wang Yan could manage—resources were scarce, and this was already quite good. Among the Liaodong troops, only their five thousand or so ate meat. Other armies were lucky to get a taste of oil once every half-month.

Wang Yan's massive purchases had a significant impact even far beyond the area—the price of meat had risen sharply. As far as he knew, civilians near the frontier who could afford it had started raising pigs; those who couldn't kept chickens and ducks, all hoping to sell them once grown…

As they ate, one of the seedling candidates who hadn't switched roles after battle asked: "My lord, we took so many heads this time—what did the Regional Commander say?"

"What could he say?" Wang Yan mumbled, mouth full of rice. "Stay alert. The Jianzhou Jurchens are coming soon."

Sun Fugui frowned. "Wasn't there peace talks just in the first month? Why are they attacking again?" He'd been busy arranging for those who returned and handling casualties and compensation—he hadn't had time to learn the details.

"Zhang Si, tell him." Wang Yan looked at the man who had asked.

"My lord, here's how it is. We didn't just slaughter a bunch of them with the Garrison Commander… the Jianzhou Jurchens got scared… damn it, they moved everyone together… now they're about to attack Great Ming."

"I was too busy yesterday and forgot to ask." Sun Fugui nodded in understanding, then turned to Wang Yan. "So, my lord, what's our plan?"

"Cut training slightly—rest up." Wang Yan pondered. "We're probably going into battle this time."

At this, except for those who had fought alongside Wang Yan and kept eating without concern, everyone fell silent. Their good life had come hard—how could they have dreamed of this before? Now they were going to war again, and there'd be no control over it.

Though most of them held high positions, having followed Wang Yan so long, they knew the way to earn glory was to fight hard. Clearly, under current conditions, a brilliant field battle offered the greatest reward…

Wang Yan didn't care what they thought—he'd paid them well, he'd spoken his piece, and anyone who ran would be beheaded.

No one needed reminding. These men were soldiers—could soldiers avoid battle? Didn't the Garrison Commander himself fight all winter and spend a month recovering? Wang Yan rose to power, and those who followed him could rise too. Otherwise, with their own abilities? If they'd had such talent, they wouldn't be serving under a seventeen-year-old boy.

Instantly, they recovered, shoveling food into their mouths.

Wang Yan watched it all—he saw they were blinded by wealth, unwilling to give up their comfort. If the common soldiers outside knew this, they'd be howling to charge into battle. Even daily training brought rewards from the Garrison Commander—what would killing a few Jianzhou Jurchens earn them?

In the following days, Wang Yan went nowhere, wandering aimlessly around the camp, waiting for war.

The common soldiers had also heard the news; the entire camp felt heavy, the calm before the storm…

As for Zhu Youxiao's reaction to the news—no need to mention it. After receiving several batches of heads, his nerves had hardened—he no longer jumped at every report.

Moreover, Wei Zhongxian had always monitored Liaodong and the Jianzhou Jurchens; Wang Yan's actions and their effects were known to Zhu Youxiao.

In fact, Wei Zhongxian had already sent people to approach Wang Yan. Wang Yan, sharp as ever, knew Wei had little time left—why not use a connection before it expired?

So he respectfully fawned on Wei Zhongxian and sent him plenty of silver, hoping the old bastard would do him a favor at a critical moment.

As for the silver… once Zhu Youxiao was gone and the story began, all of Wei's wealth would be Wang Mou's anyway—just holding it for now…

On the nineteenth of April, the fourth day after Wang Yan's return, urgent reports arrived: Hong Taiji mobilized 120,000 troops and marched south. Of course, this was pure boasting—actual numbers were closer to 60,000 or 70,000.

Yuan Chonghuan immediately communicated back and forth with the court, received no useful response, and simultaneously launched a series of military movements—Wang Yan's unit, under Man Gui's command, broke camp and advanced forward.

Three days later, on April 22, Hong Taiji split his forces into three columns, swiftly capturing two cities; the three armies converged outside Jinzhou.

It was indeed swift capture—the walls weren't finished, and the defenders had simply fled…

Historically, Hong Taiji's invasion began on the ninth of May—twenty days later. At this time, Jinzhou's walls were still incomplete. But as a key stronghold, it had been prioritized for construction, with massive labor and a garrison of over twenty thousand under General Zhao Shujiao—so though unfinished, the city could hold for now.

Meanwhile, Grand Governor Yuan, commanding over 100,000, nearly 200,000 troops, ordered forces from Jizhen, Xuanfu, Datong, and others to cross the pass…

On April 26, Jinzhou had been besieged for seven days and had endured days of assault; Zhao Shujiao vowed to resist to the death…

Yuan Chonghuan had to send reinforcements—failing to do so would doom him even if he held his own. He immediately ordered Man Gui and others to lead troops to rescue Jinzhou…

Wang Yan looked at the three thousand five hundred men, their ranks orderly, ready for battle, and raised his hand.

A messenger waved the flag: "Advance."