Chapter 111: Squad Leader

"This humble one is also a Han, a Han from Liaodong. Eighteen generations of my ancestors were all Han. Han do not kill Han — General, spare my life!"

"General, spare us! We have already surrendered — General, you cannot kill us!"

"..."

Most of the fierce, battle-hardened, death-defying bannermen had already died in battle. Of the remaining 170-odd bannermen, few were unafraid of death.

All of them were terrified into shrieking. The Han identity they had long since flung to the back of their minds now came flooding back in full, and one after another they wailed about how they had been oppressed by the Manchus into becoming bannermen.

One bannerman, seeing that the Green Standard men had not moved and that the Ming general stood watching them as if wavering, shouted at the top of his lungs: "Most of us are descended from Ming military households.

In the fourth year of Chongzhen, when the Prince of Pingnan and the Prince of Jingnan rose in revolt at Denglai, we had no choice but to follow those two to Liaodong and surrender to the Qing.

Had there been any chance, how could we have abandoned being proper Han to become bannermen?... In all these years since entering the pass, we followed the Prince of Jingnan and fought many battles, killed many Ming soldiers — but all of it was forced.

If we did not kill, we would be killed. To stay alive, we could only harden our hearts and kill...

General, if you can give the Green Standard a chance, why can you not give us one! We are all seasoned soldiers, more than capable of serving under your command!"

"We are willing to serve under the General!" the bannermen all shouted in agreement.

Seeing this, Qin Zhisheng leaned in and quietly urged Zhou Shixiang: "Commander, these bannermen are all old soldiers from Liaodong, as elite as the Old Bandit's men. If we can win them over, they will be a great help on the march south."

At these words, Shao Jiugong's brow furrowed at once, but he voiced no objection. His expression, however, plainly showed he did not approve of the Taiping Camp taking in these surrendered Han Banners troops.

Zhou Shixiang, however, had already made up his mind. Coldly he said: "Bannermen are not the same as Green Standard men. We cannot take them." That said, he addressed the desperately hopeful bannermen: "Why can I not give you a chance? Because you are bannermen!"

At that, the bannermen erupted in an uproar, and the crowd began to stir. Shao Jiugong, long prepared, immediately directed his men to suppress them. The bannermen all had their hands bound with ropes and could not resist.

"Do it! If you want to live, trade a bannerman's head for your life!" Zhou Shixiang again shouted at the Green Standard troops. Yet not one of the Green Standard men holding blades dared step forward to kill a bannerman, still less to resist the Taiping Army.

"What, you dare not?"

Seeing that the Green Standard men dared not kill the bannermen, Zhou Shixiang's gaze turned icy. He fixed his eyes hard on Li Fuguo.

Li Fuguo was terrified by that stare and dared not meet Zhou Shixiang's eyes. He could only stammer: "This humble one... this humble one..."

Shao Jiugong flew into a rage at the sight. He strode over to Li Fuguo and slapped him hard across the face, then in one bound charged at the bannermen and, without so much as a glance, swung his blade.

The blade flashed, and a bannerman's head flew to the ground. A closer look showed it was none other than the one who had cried that his ancestors had been Ming military households.

"Whoosh!"

The bannermen recoiled involuntarily in terror.

"Will you kill them or not!"

Grabbing the dripping head by the hair, Shao Jiugong paid no heed at all to the doomed Han Banners troops. Instead, eyes blazing and face cold as frost, he glared at Li Fuguo and the Green Standard men behind him, who stood stunned and gaping.

Staring at that head with its eyes still open, then at Shao Jiugong, who loomed like a fiend, Li Fuguo felt as though he had fallen into an ice pit. The Green Standard men behind him were so horrified they kept gasping in cold air.

"If you will not kill the bannermen, this general will kill you!"

Zhou Shixiang slowly drew his long blade and pointed its tip straight at Li Fuguo, inwardly praising Shao Jiugong — this former Green Standard turncoat — for a job well done.

"This humble one... this humble one..."

Li Fuguo's teeth chattered, and his hands trembled violently. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined the Ming army would make them kill bannermen.

Once they did it, there would be no road back. But if they did not, judging by the Ming general's ferocity, he would surely take their lives on the spot.

Kill, or not kill?

Li Fuguo was torn between heaven and earth, trapped between advance and retreat. And if he was like this, the Green Standard men were even more so.

The long-standing awe inspired by the Manchu soldiers and the Han Banners had made them think of themselves as a grade lower.

Never mind the Manchu soldiers — even on ordinary days, when they saw the Han Banners, they would keep well clear, and would never dare offend them even at the cost of their lives. And now they were expected to take those very lives with their own hands.

This... how could this be done...

"Still not moving!"

Zhou Shixiang's patience ran out. With a thunderous roar he shouted again. Today he was determined to force these Green Standard men to act. Otherwise, he could only slaughter them together with the surrendered Han Banners troops, because he could not afford to keep them.

In the past, Zhou Shixiang had always used soldiers to kill officers — keeping the soldiers, not the officers — but that had been aimed at the Green Standard. Today, with these Han Banners present, he would change the old practice and make the Green Standard kill the bannermen.

Only thus could these Green Standard men be made useful to him.

Soldier or officer, once they had personally slaughtered these Han Banners — the Manchus' adopted sons — they would have no road back even if they wanted one. They could only follow the Taiping Camp to the bitter end, heart and soul.

This was the same in effect as carving "Shunzhi is a dog" onto the backs of Shao Jiugong's Jiangxi soldiers — the only difference was the method.

If in the future they should capture Manchu, Mongol, and Han troops together, he would follow the same pattern: make the Mongol and Han troops kill the Manchu troops. Those who acted would be men of the Taiping Camp; those who did not, he would simply slaughter.

To join the outlaws on Mount Liang one had to present a pledge of allegiance; to join the Taiping Camp's ranks one had to present one too. Hearts are hidden behind flesh — unless he cut off these men's road back, how could he dare command them boldly?

Battalion Commander Li Fuguo, at the point of Zhou Shixiang's blade, still stood frozen. Just as Zhou Shixiang was about to take this man's head to cow the Green Standard troops, Commander Li suddenly moved. His body gave a violent shudder, and then he swung his blade and charged at the bannermen.

Today, either the bannermen die, or I die! Since I do not want to die, they must!

After cutting down one bannerman who had no time to retreat, Li Fuguo, his face savage, roared at his men: "Brothers, kill the Tartars!"

"Kill the Tartars! Kill the Tartars!"

With their commander leading the way, the Green Standard men threw off all hesitation and, howling together, charged at the utterly helpless bannermen.

Those at the back were even more frantic: there were far fewer bannermen than Green Standard men — if the men in front killed them all, wouldn't I still end up dead!

"I'm a Han! I'm a Han! You bannermen beasts — I'll slaughter every last one of you, and see if you ever dare shit and piss on us Han again!"

One of Li Fuguo's personal guards, hacking at bannermen who could not even raise an arm to block, roared hoarsely at the top of his lungs until his voice went raw.

The bannerman he had slashed seventeen or eighteen times had not a patch of whole flesh left; he looked as if he had been dismembered, blood and organs spilling across the ground. This guard was the very image of a fiend, the very image of a butcher.

His twisted, contorted face, lit by the sunlight, was horrifying, enough to make any onlooker shrink in dread.

The bannermen's weeping and shrieking turned the eastern city into a hell on earth. Some bannermen, at the moment of death, spat vicious curses: "You rebel savages, you will die a wretched death! Our prince will not let you go!"

"I'll slaughter your prince along with you!"

A scar-faced Green Standard soldier slashed open a bannerman's mouth with one stroke.

Whether it was because he was killing the Han Banners he had once feared at the mere mention of their name, or because surviving had made him wild with excitement, he burst into manic laughter, his bloodshot eyes darting around, looking for another bannerman not yet fully dead to practice on.

In his line of sight, one bannerman lay sprawled, wailing. His spirits soared, and he was just about to step forward when someone yanked his queue from behind.

Then, by his ear, came the voice of the Ming general from before: "You handle a blade well. What is your name?"

"Answering the General, this humble one... this humble one is called Wang Qi!"

Suddenly so close to the Ming general, Wang Qi was so nervous his voice stammered, and his mind went blank, unsure why the Ming general had grabbed hold of him.

Just as he was panicking, the Ming general clapped him on the shoulder, nodded with satisfaction, and ordered a subordinate nearby: "This Wang Qi has guts. Later, make him a squad leader."