Chapter 55: The Rebel Xiucai

What Boss Hu muttered before he died was not about the Tartars, but about his old mother — the old mother who had borne him and raised him.

Slowly, the figure of his old mother grew fainter and fainter in Boss Hu's mind until it vanished, and no light remained in his sight.

An armored soldier gleefully lifted Boss Hu's severed head in his hand, then brandished it defiantly at the Ming troops before him and shouted with all his might: "The rebel general is dead — surrender at once! The rebel general is dead — surrender at once!"

"Elder Brother!"

Ge Wu let out a great cry, dropped to his knees, and as he wailed bitterly he kept beating his head against the ground.

"Elder Brother!"

The bald man's face streamed with tears as he pounded his chest with his fists. Peng Dazhu and several squad leaders stared at Boss Hu's severed head, dumbstruck, their eyes filled with despair.

The general is dead?

The Luoding recruits stared at Boss Hu's head, held aloft by the Qing soldiers, and looked at one another in dismay. Then every man began to tremble with fear; the hands gripping their blades shook uncontrollably, and their legs quivered of their own accord.

The Jiangxi men behind them panicked when they heard the commotion up front: how could the commander have been killed, just like that!

"Sir, what do we do! The commander's been killed, the recruits are all terrified, we can't win this — let's run!" One Jiangxi soldier ran to Shao Jiugong in utter confusion, so frightened that his voice carried a sobbing note.

"Sir, let's get out of here!"

The rest of the Jiangxi men were also ready to retreat. With the commander slaughtered, what was the point of fighting this battle? Better to run before the Qing troops closed in!

"Run?!"

Shao Jiugong gazed at Hu Quan's head, held high in the air by the Qing soldiers ahead, a bleak smile appearing on his face. "Run? Run where?"

The soldier who had first yelled about running said hastily, "Anywhere is fine — anything but staying here waiting to die!" Before the words were out of his mouth, Shao Jiugong slapped him across the face — a sharp "Smack!" that made him see stars.

"Sir?"

The soldier clutched half his face and stared at Shao Jiugong in terror, not understanding why he had been struck.

Shao Jiugong's face was ashen. He swept a fierce glare over the Jiangxi men and said through gritted teeth: "Others can run, but we cannot!

Don't forget — those words branded on our backs have already cut off our road. With those marks on us, it's no use running anywhere!

If we want to live, we have no choice but to fight the Qing army to the death. Even if we die, we'll drag these Deqing bastards down with us!"

"We're not fighting for the Ming army — we're fighting for ourselves! Run if you want, but I'm not running! Zhang Mazi has only that many men; I don't believe he can overturn the heavens! Any man with balls, follow me!"

With that, Shao Jiugong charged forward, almost roaring. Seeing this, the Jiangxi men hesitated a moment, then steeled themselves and followed. Shao Jiugong was right — apart from defeating the Qing army, they had no other road to survival!

"The rebel general is dead! The rebel general is dead!"

The Green Standard soldiers kneeling on the ground cheered and leaped to their feet one after another, scrambling to pick up the weapons they had thrown away.

Once these surrendered Green Standard troops got their weapons back, it would only make matters worse for the Taiping Camp, whose commander had been killed.

At this moment of extreme peril, Zhou Shixiang charged down the slope, cut down a Green Standard soldier who was raising his blade to resist, then with one stroke hacked off the arm of a Green Standard soldier who had just picked up a long spear.

Amid the man's screams, he roared ferociously at the restless Green Standard troops: "Anyone who moves dies!"

"Anyone who moves dies!"

Several squad leaders who had recovered their wits also led men charging down, using blades and spears to force the Green Standard soldiers who had risen back to their knees.

Facing the long blades that could fall at any moment, the Green Standard troops before them knelt again unwillingly.

The Green Standard men farther back saw that Zhou Shixiang's force was small and were eager to rise and resist, but before they could get up, war cries sounded from behind — Shao Jiugong had brought the Jiangxi men charging up.

The Green Standard soldiers had been too busy fleeing earlier; many had no idea where they had thrown their weapons, and few could retrieve them now. They knelt scattered across nearly half a li of ground, utterly unable to mount any organized resistance.

After Shao Jiugong arrived with the Jiangxi men, they killed a dozen more Green Standard soldiers who had picked up blades and spears.

Thus the Green Standard troops were left bare-handed, and most critically they had no one to lead them — each man hoped someone else would take the lead. The result was that under the Ming troops' intimidation they could only kneel down again in helplessness.

As they knelt, pair after pair of eyes stared fixedly ahead, hoping the Garrison Commander would bring troops back to rescue them.

After cowing the surrendered Green Standard troops into staying put, Zhou Shixiang left half his men to watch them and gather up all the weapons on the ground, lest the Green Standard troops counterattack.

Then he led the remaining twenty-odd men charging forward — and met dozens of Luoding recruits fleeing straight toward them.

"Anyone who retreats dies!"

At this juncture Zhou Shixiang had no patience for talk. Seeing the recruits ignoring orders and still running back, he said nothing and cut down the nearest recruit with one stroke, then roared savagely at the terrified recruits: "All of you, follow your commander!

If you want your wives and children dead, then run; if not, fight the Tartars to the death!"

"Anyone who retreats dies!"

Shao Jiugong, who had caught up, also bellowed. Under the intimidation of the severed head and the hard stares of the Jiangxi men, the Luoding recruits had no choice but to turn around and charge back with Zhou Shixiang.

Some of the Luoding men had already realized that if this battle was lost, the loved ones they had left in Luoding would surely meet a bad end. For their families' sake, they had no road of escape left — they could only fight the Qing army to the death.

Song Erniu was one of them. He was afraid too, but no matter how afraid he was, he could only steel himself and go forward.

Otherwise the Qing army would surely kill his old mother, kill his wife and children, and kill the last remaining child of his elder brother. If it came to that, how could he face his mother, face his wife, or face his elder brother in the underworld?

"Kill the Tartars!"

Song Erniu's heart was pounding. His whole face felt numb, as if it could not even twitch.

His two hands gripping the great banner felt as though they clutched a boulder weighing a thousand catties, and he held on tightly, afraid that the moment he loosened his grip the boulder would crush him to death.

"Brothers, avenge Brother Hu — kill every last Tartar dog!"

When they saw Zhou Shixiang appear, Ge Wu, the bald man, and the others immediately found their anchor. One after another they stopped in their tracks, raised their blades, and charged at the Qing soldiers again with war cries.

Although Boss Hu's death had greatly boosted Qing morale and depressed Ming morale, the Qing army was in truth a spent force. After their single burst of energy, they had little strength left.

If the Ming troops had collapsed at that moment, the Qing would not even have pursued them — they were simply too exhausted.

Zhou Shixiang's appearance gave the demoralized Ming troops an anchor. Though their morale did not surge because of it, the mere fact that the retreating Ming troops turned back was enormous pressure on the armored soldiers.

Both sides stood at the edge of a cliff; it all depended on what the final straw would be — or rather, on who could hold out to the end.

"What a damned rebel xiucai!"

When Zhang Dade saw that Zhou Shixiang had actually led troops charging up and had killed several of his personal guards, his eyes blazed with fury. Ignoring Tang Sanshui's attempts to stop him, he hefted his great blade and went to meet him.

Tang Sanshui hesitated a moment, then stamped his foot and charged after Zhang Dade. In his view, although their side was nearly spent, the Ming troops opposite were likewise at the end of their strength.

If they could just kill that rebel xiucai leading them, the battle would be won. It was risky, but worth the gamble!

If I'd known the Ming army had only this many men, I should have brought out all my troops earlier!

Now that the battle had reached this point, Zhang Dade could see clearly that this Taiping Camp flying the Ming banner was no elite force.

Their numbers were not much greater than his own; they had hardly any padded armor; and the soldiers were green recruits who did not even know how to use blade or spear — clearly a rabble thrown together at the last moment.

Right now it would not take much: just a few dozen fresh troops thrown in and these raw recruits would collapse completely.

But regret was useless now. That rebel xiucai had already led the retreating Ming troops charging up; unless this man was killed, those Ming troops would not fall back!

Rebel xiucai — kill you, and I'll be a Mobile Corps Commander!

Zhang Dade's eyes were bloodshot. He had no mind even to look for his old enemy Shao Jiugong; at this moment his eyes held only Zhou Shixiang. Bent solely on capturing and killing Zhou Shixiang, he had already charged to the front.

"Kill!"

Amid the roar, the great blade in his hand was already raised.

"Kill!"

Zhou Shixiang likewise let out a great shout, and his long blade came crashing down hard, meeting Zhang Dade's great blade squarely. "Clang!" — sparks flew, and both men stepped back a pace, the webs of their hands aching, each inwardly startled.

Zhou Shixiang's expression changed: what strength!

Zhang Dade's face also shifted dramatically: how is this rebel xiucai so skilled?

In the brief moment the two of them stood stunned, the soldiers on both sides had already clashed together. War cries and curses rang out without cease, and severed arms and limbs fell beside the two men from time to time.

No fewer than a hundred Ming and Qing soldiers were locked in combat, and the Taiping Camp still held the advantage in numbers.

In the earlier fighting, twelve or thirteen of Zhang Dade's personal guards had already fallen in battle; the remaining twenty-odd men now had not even the strength to run.

Relying on years of killing experience, they barely held down the Ming troops, who knew nothing and came charging up with nothing but wild shouts.

On both sides soldiers kept taking blades and spears; screams rose and fell one after another, and no fewer than several pairs were locked together, rolling on the ground.

"Smash you dead, you dog Tartar! Smash you dead, you dog Tartar!"

A Luoding soldier, as if gone mad, was smashing a stone into the face of a Qing soldier who had long since stopped breathing, pounding until the flesh was a bloody pulp and white bone showed stark through it, yet still he would not let go — he had been driven out of his wits by the sight of the dead.

"Die!"

Song Erniu swung the long banner and swept an armored soldier to the ground. The man had no strength left to get up, so he sat there panting hoarsely, then swung the long blade in his hand and hacked at the back of an unwary Ming soldier's ankle, severing the tendon in one stroke.

The Ming soldier howled in pain and tumbled to the ground.

Song Erniu, his body, mouth, and face all covered in blood, had somehow found a savage resolve. Seeing this, he drove the great banner straight at the Qing soldier.

The Qing soldier wore a layer of padded armor. Seeing that his opponent meant to stab him with the banner pole, he bared his teeth, about to let out a mocking laugh — but then pain shot through his chest. The banner pole had pierced straight through the padded armor and into his heart.

"Urk!"

The soldier could not believe it. He grabbed the banner pole and tried to pull it out, but no matter how he struggled, it would not come free. In his fading sight, the Ming soldier just stood there staring at him like a fool.

After two of his companions had been cut down by Qing soldiers, a Luoding soldier drove his spear into the back of one of the Qing soldiers. Overwhelmed with excitement, he dropped the spear and waved his arms and stamped his feet, shouting, "I killed a Tartar! I killed a Tartar!"

He only managed two shouts before no more sound came out of him, for the back of his neck had gone cold — a jet of blood was spurting out.

After cutting down that fool of a shouting Ming soldier, the Qing soldier cast a contemptuous glance at the man's face and cursed inwardly: green recruit!

Carrying his blade, he staggered, trying to turn around, but his own neck gave a jolt of pain, and he swayed and pitched forward.

Shao Jiugong's Jiangxi troops steadied the Ming line in this close-quarters slaughter. With their advantage in numbers, the Qing soldiers were gradually wiped out, and the ground was littered with corpses everywhere.

The Ming soldiers gradually surrounded the Qing soldiers two or three to one. With no reinforcements and no strength left, the Qing soldiers could only put up a futile resistance. Some tried to run, but their legs would no longer carry them.

Tang Sanshui saw the battle turning bad and anxiously tried to pull the Garrison Commander back. But in his sight, the Garrison Commander was still locked in combat with that cursed xiucai.

Zhou Shixiang's advantage lay in his agility, while Zhang Dade's lay in his strength. After several exchanges, neither had gained the upper hand.

But the two men's states of mind were now very different. Zhang Dade was anxious; Zhou Shixiang was calm.

Just by looking, he knew the scales of victory had already tipped toward the Taiping Camp. As long as he, the pillar of the camp, did not die, the Qing army would never turn the situation around!

At that moment, a Qing archer nocked an arrow and shot at Zhou Shixiang. The arrowhead grazed Zhou Shixiang's cheek.

Startled, he twisted aside to dodge, but Zhang Dade's blade was already slashing at his left side. Zhou Shixiang raised his blade to block, but his foot slipped and he fell to the ground.

"Commander!"

Seeing Zhou Shixiang fall, Shao Jiugong's heart gave a jolt. At this critical moment, nothing more could happen to Zhou Shixiang — otherwise not even the gods could save the Taiping Camp!

Desperate to save him, Shao Jiugong let out a shout and charged forward. Zhang Dade's hair and beard bristled.

Without so much as a glance at Shao Jiugong, he swung his blade straight at Zhou Shixiang — but something flew at his face. After a burst of searing pain, his vision suddenly blurred.

A Luoding soldier, seeing the Commander in danger, had grabbed a handful of stones and hurled them at Zhang Dade. One stone struck Zhang Dade square between the brows, splitting open a long gash.

Blood mixed with sweat streamed down, stinging his eyes so badly he could not open them.

Seeing this, Zhou Shixiang flipped up with a sparrow-hawk's turn, swung his blade-hand hard, and hacked into the right side of Zhang Dade's face, carving away a great chunk of skin and flesh.

"Cursed xiucai!"

Zhang Dade was in agony beyond bearing. Clutching his face, he rolled on the ground. Shao Jiugong stepped up and added another stroke, and in an instant finished off this old enemy.

Just as Boss Hu's death had shattered the Taiping Camp's will to fight, so too did Zhang Dade's death throw the Qing soldiers still battling the Ming army into chaos.

A few armored personal guards let their attention slip for a moment, and several blades hacked at them at once — in the blink of an eye they were cut to pieces.

"No more fighting, no more fighting..."

An armored Qing soldier who truly had no strength left to fight on dropped to the ground on his backside, caring about nothing, heedless of everything, just gasping for breath.

After Zhang Dade died, Tang Sanshui tried to flee but was seized by Ge Wu, who hauled him up like a rabbit and carried him before Zhou Shixiang.

Without waiting for the other to speak, Tang Sanshui threw himself to the ground and kept banging his head against the earth, begging for his life: "Spare me, good sir! Spare me, good sir!"

Zhou Shixiang was so exhausted he could barely stand. Forcing himself upright, he waved a hand at Tang Sanshui and said, "I won't kill you. Tell them to surrender."

"Yes, yes!"

Without another word, Tang Sanshui got up from the ground and shouted to the Qing soldiers still resisting, telling them to lay down their weapons and surrender.

There were still more than forty Qing soldiers left, seventeen or eighteen of them armored. Many were wounded and had long since lost the will to fight on.

Hearing the Battalion Commander's shout, and seeing that the Garrison Commander was dead, they knew there was no point in fighting any longer.

One after another they threw down their blades and spears, then slumped to the ground, letting the Ming soldiers collect their weapons and strip the padded armor from their bodies.

These past two days I've been busy attending parent-teacher meetings at the kindergarten, and also busy preparing for the New Year — steaming buns, stuffing sausages, frying meatballs, buying meat and fish to salt and cure — so the update volume has been a bit low.

I hope everyone won't mind too much. After all, the New Year is almost here, and as a father and a husband, I have to take care of things.