Chapter 110

"The Great Ming has lost! The Tatars are charging over!"

Following the Ming army's hoarse, throat-tearing shouts.

More than five thousand light cavalry immediately galloped at top speed toward the Dalinghe ferry crossing.

Then they boarded the boats, crossed the river, and finished it all in one clean sweep.

As if they had never crossed the river at all.

Leaving behind only a field of great banners and battle flags…

On the hillside, Hong Taiji watched the scene before him, his expression gradually darkening.

Is this a battle or playing house?!

Could you at least put up a fight for a moment?!

I was just about to prepare my rout!

This is a once-in-an-age merit!

Songshan Main Camp.

Hoarse from shouting, Cao Bianjiao wiped the heavy sweat from his brow and said to Hong Chengchou in a rasping voice,

"Marshal, the job is done."

Hong Chengchou, hunched over his desk writing a memorial to the throne, didn't even lift his head as he said,

"Good, good!"

"By the way, Regional Commander Cao, how many troops did you bring this time?"

"Five thousand."

Hearing this, Hong Chengchou couldn't help but raise his head and asked Cao Bianjiao in a solemn, earnest tone,

"Was it really five thousand?!"

"That can't be right. I seem to remember it was fifty thousand?"

"This morning our Liaoxi garrison dispatched an elite force of fifty thousand, who plunged into Liaodong, encountered two thousand crack troops of the Eight Banners, and were utterly routed—all thanks to Regional Commander Cao Bianjiao braving the arrows himself, the entire force was preserved and returned!"

Cao Bianjiao, looking at the memorial before him, couldn't help but twitch slightly… ……

What nonsense about Hong Taiji personally cutting down five hundred men.

About Dorgon overpowering the Red Barbarian cannons.

Cao Bianjiao had lived through those years when the Ming army had been beaten into dropping their helmets and armor.

But even back then, the Ming army didn't write battle reports like this!

And Dorgon overpowering the Red Barbarian cannons—

Why not just write that Dorgon caught cannonballs with his bare hands?!

"Marshal, you…"

Hong Chengchou looked at Cao Bianjiao's expression and said through gritted teeth in a low voice,

"Your Majesty has His Majesty's arrangements. Sign it quickly."

Zhu Youjian naturally had Zhu Youjian's own pressures.

This entire battle had been planned by Sun Chuanting, Du Yinxi, and Zhu Youjian after a full day and night of deliberation inside the palace.

The Great Ming still needed a "great defeat."

One to show to the common people of the Great Ming.

To make the people of the realm truly feel the threat of the Qing army.

Only then could Zhu Youjian and the court firmly hold onto the "great righteousness."

As for the scholars and officials—

They can believe it or not, as they please.

Zhu Youjian had never counted on making them believe it in the first place.

In any case, after the Battle of Xingshan, the court—and especially the Zhu family—had already seized a great deal of discourse power among the common folk.

Quite a few elderly and frail members of the Huangshi Sect had been sent back to their hometowns by Zhu Youjian to serve as the court's mouthpiece among the people, and thanks to the Battle of Xingshan, these Zhu kinsmen were warmly received by the populace.

These are the Emperor's own relatives.

When they speak, surely that's more authentic than some country squire, right?!

The Great Ming is still very weak.

So the Great Ming needs to train its internal strength.

Only by mastering its internal strength can it crush the Tatars beyond the pass.

Anyone who blocks the Great Ming from training its internal strength—

Is a traitor to the nation!

No matter whether the Great Ming's scholars and officials believe it or not.

The common folk of the realm believe it, anyway.

The scholars and officials have even lost the chance to petition for battle and wash away the shame.

What's your rush to fight?

If we really could fight, would the court refuse? Over two hundred thousand Zhu clansmen have died in Liaodong—that's a national feud and a family hatred. Could you possibly be more anxious than the Emperor? Do you have something to hide? Are you in league with the enemy?

As for this strategy—

Zhu Youjian, Sun Chuanting, and Hong Chengchou named it "The Great Qing Threat Theory!"

The only pity was that at this point, Hong Taiji was clearly still at the stage of needing "strategic deception"….

92, New Chat Group Member!

The Grand Governance Hall at Shengjing.

Hong Taiji's face was ashen as he stared at the "court gazette" that the scouts inside the pass had just intercepted and sent back.

On the gazette, it was clearly written.

"A crushing defeat in Liaodong!"

"A hundred thousand troops routed, no army left to speak of!"

"The Jurchens, never numbering more than ten thousand, cannot be defeated!"

"At this perilous hour, every commandery and county under heaven must unite as one — let us not become a laughingstock for posterity!"

"..."

Hong Taiji's expression slowly contorted.

He had expected Zhu Youjian to exaggerate the results of the battle at Shengjing.

But he never in his wildest dreams guessed that Zhu Youjian's skin could be this thick.

This brazen with his boasting!

"Where did this hundred-thousand army come from?! Where did this hundred-thousand army come from?!"

"Just try advancing! Take one step forward, and I will return Shengjing to you!"

"Just try attacking!"

"..."

In that battle, the three thousand men of the Plain Yellow Banner and the Bordered Yellow Banner had nearly squeezed every last drop of strength from their very bones.

And still failed to catch the Ming army in its headlong flight.

Though, to be fair, this was hardly surprising.

Over the past dozen years or so, the Ming army had not improved in any other skill.

But every single one of them had honed the art of running away to absolute perfection.

After all, anyone who ran too slowly — even if they didn't die — was captured by the Qing forces and dragged back to be a bondservant.

Anyone who survived the situation in Liaodong —

Wasn't each and every one of them a battle-hardened old fox who had narrowly escaped death at least a dozen times?

Survival of the fittest, plain and simple.

Hong Taiji slumped heavily into the dragon throne.

For the first time, he felt that the chair beneath him was so terribly uncomfortable.

"Mr. Fan, do you have a plan?"

Fan Wencheng looked at the memorial before him, and all the thousand words in his heart finally condensed into a single sigh.

Has the Great Ming produced a capable minister at last?