Chapter 87

"Xiangshan County?"

Song Xianggong stood there stunned. If he remembered correctly, Xiangshan County was a first-rank county under Guangzhou Prefecture, and it was already occupied by the Qing army.

Why on earth did Zhou Shixiang want to go there? Given the Taiping Camp's current strength, trying to seize Xiangshan from the Qing army was nothing short of a fool's dream.

While he was still puzzling over this, Zhou Shixiang had already risen and fetched a map — a map of Guangdong that had taken him two full days to draw.

For this map of Guangdong, Zhou Shixiang had truly racked his brains over those two days, straining to recall the map of China from later ages, and also questioning Lin Wanfu and others, before he had barely managed to sketch it out.

Though the details were certainly wrong in places, the overall framework should be correct. At the very least, with this map in hand, the Taiping Camp would not go astray in its future line of march.

In ancient times, a map was a treasure on the level of a state military secret, something ordinary commoners could never set eyes on.

Add to that the difficulty of travel, and most people would likely never venture a hundred li from home in their entire lives, let alone know which places were strategic points and which were must-take ground.

Thus, when commoners rose in revolt, lacking maps and the aid of men of learning, they were often confined to thrashing about in one locality, unable to seize strategic ground quickly, and so unable to develop thereafter.

Under such circumstances, rebel armies facing government troops were naturally passive at every turn and easily wiped out by government forces who held maps in hand.

Zhou Shixiang had no ready-made map of Guangdong, nor any GPS satellite positioning; relying solely on guides to determine the line of march was far too dangerous, and the Taiping Camp now urgently needed a strategic plan.

So he had drawn this map of Guangdong himself, to keep from becoming a blind man groping in the dark.

In the course of drawing this map of Guangdong, which could only count as a framework, Zhou Shixiang further resolved that when conditions were right he would organize a general staff for the Taiping Camp, so that more professional men could draw more and better maps for it.

If they could even mark every village and town clearly on the map, list every small river and well along the roads, and even measure the height of a hill, then the value of such a map would be no less than that of a hundred thousand troops.

Unfortunately, the Taiping Camp at present had barely a handful of men who could even read, so wanting men skilled in professional mapmaking was pure fantasy. Zhou Shixiang could not even set up the framework of a general staff right now.

All things are hard at the start; for the time being, he had no choice but to do as much planning for the Taiping Camp as he alone could manage.

"What is this?"

Song Xianggong looked at this map drawn in charcoal with great curiosity. Only after carefully studying the place names on it did he suddenly understand, and said with great excitement, "Could this be a map of Guangdong province?"

"Map" was what the ancients called a chart, and Zhou Shixiang, who carried the xiucai degree of his body's original owner, naturally knew this. He nodded and said, "It is indeed a map of Guangdong. Sir, look here — this black circle marks Xiangshan County."

As he spoke, Zhou Shixiang pointed to a black circle he had specially marked. If this black circle were drawn on a map of later ages, it would cover Zhongshan, Zhuhai, Shunde, and other places in Guangdong — a vast area, as large as two or three cities.

Yet at this time it all belonged to the single county of Xiangshan.

Song Xianggong had once served as a County Magistrate, so he could naturally read a map. His gaze fixed tightly on that black circle, studying it with extreme care. After a long while, he asked in puzzlement, "Why does the Battalion Commander wish to make Xiangshan the Taiping Camp's refuge?"

"Because of this place."

Zhou Shixiang's finger moved to a solid black dot beside the circle, and he uttered a place name: "Macau."

"Macau?"

Song Xianggong stared hard. The solid black dot lay right next to the black circle; at a rough glance one would think the dot was inside the circle, and only on closer inspection could one see that the circle was the circle and the dot was the dot.

"Macau?"

Song Xianggong murmured the name several times, then suddenly recalled something and said urgently, "Is this not the place where the Hongyi cannons are made?"

Hongyi cannons?

Zhou Shixiang was taken aback for a moment, then the memories of his body's original owner made him understand: the Hongyi cannon referred to the artillery the Ming dynasty had purchased from the Portuguese in Macau.

Because the name "Hongyi" carried a derogatory implication toward them, the Qing court had renamed the Hongyi cannons captured from the Ming army as "Great General cannons."

"It is exactly as you say, sir. The white barbarians dwelling in Macau are skilled at making firearms. Our dynasty purchased many Hongyi cannons from them during the Tianqi and Chongzhen reigns."

Hearing Zhou Shixiang's words, Song Xianggong could not help saying, "Then is the reason you wish to go to Xiangshan to buy Hongyi cannons from those white barbarians?"

Zhou Shixiang shook his head. "Where would we get so much silver to buy cannons from the white barbarians? But the reason I want to take Xiangshan is indeed connected to Macau. Only we would not buy — we would find a way to make them. Not just cannons, but our own firelocks as well."

"Make them?"

Song Xianggong was stunned again. He had never imagined the Taiping Camp could make its own cannons. The camp could not even forge enough weapons for itself, yet Zhou Shixiang wanted to make cannons. This — this — truly left him unable to believe it, and he stared at Zhou Shixiang in astonishment.

"Buying is not as good as making. If we cannot make them, what use is it no matter how many we buy?"

Zhou Shixiang did not realize Song Xianggong was thinking that the Taiping Camp's conditions made it impossible to have a chance at making cannons; he assumed the other man thought buying was faster than making — that since they could buy directly from the white barbarians, why go to the trouble of making their own.

Seeing that Zhou Shixiang had misunderstood his meaning, Song Xianggong could not help complaining, "Making cannons and firelocks is all well and good, but the question is, what do we make them with? And how?

Right now we do not even have enough weapons for ourselves. Making cannons and firelocks — is that not a bit too... too far off?"

Unwilling to say outright that Zhou Shixiang was dreaming, he could only tactfully hint that the matter was not very realistic.

"Step by step.

First we get to Xiangshan, then we find a way to make contact with the white barbarians. We scrape together some silver and buy a few from them, then find a way to learn their techniques and make our own cannons and firelocks.

As for silver — a living man won't be choked to death by his own piss. As long as we have the will, the thing can be done.

Back then, did any of us ever think we could take Luoding? Did any of us ever think we could defeat the Deqing Green Standard?

And what happened? Everything we never imagined has come true!"

In truth, Zhou Shixiang could not answer Song Xianggong's questions, because he had no idea how those problems would be solved when the time came. But since he had already made up his mind to go to Macau, he had to use an optimistic attitude to dissolve Song Xianggong's doubts and win his support.

Between "take one step and see what comes" and "see what comes and then take one step," Zhou Shixiang clearly chose the former.

No matter what lay ahead, no matter how many difficulties stood before them, there was no need to fear and no need to care — as long as the goal was set, charge at it with everything. A man dies with his prick pointing at the sky; at worst he dies once more.

And if he does not die, then he will make those dog Tartars pay!

Zhou Shixiang's optimism did infect Song Xianggong.

Thinking of how things he had never dared imagine were being realized one after another, Song Xianggong could not help admiring that Zhou Shixiang's judgment and decisions were extremely correct — one might even call them far-sighted.

However, this time he was not so easily led into the ditch by Zhou Shixiang, and said firmly, "Xiangshan must not be gone to!"

"Why must it not be gone to?"

Zhou Shixiang stood there blankly, not understanding how Song Xianggong could be so decisive and resolute. He had never been like this before.

Song Xianggong stretched out a hand and pointed to the three large characters prominently written above the black circle Zhou Shixiang had drawn — "Guangzhou Prefecture" — and then said with great worry, "Xiangshan is too close to Guangzhou.

One could say it lies right under Guangzhou's nose. If we take that place, the Qing army in Guangzhou would not even need to march far to come and strike us.

When that happens, can our strength hold them off? If we cannot beat them, what is the point of going there?

And then where would we go? One misstep, and Xiangshan would be our death ground."

"If we cannot resist by force, we take it by wit; if wit fails too, we run."

Zhou Shixiang showed none of Song Xianggong's worry. He seemed not to fear the Qing army in Guangzhou at all, and said with raised brows, "I have a sixteen-character policy for dealing with the enemy.

Would you care to hear whether it is workable, sir?"

"What sixteen characters?" Song Xianggong's brows rose as well.

Zhou Shixiang declared in a ringing voice: "Enemy advances, we retreat; enemy camps, we harass; enemy tires, we strike; enemy retreats, we pursue!"

"......."

Hearing these sixteen characters, Song Xianggong's eyes lit up. Zhou Shixiang added one more line: "If the enemy comes by several routes, we go by one.

Xiangshan's territory is not flat plain; there are many hills and mountains, and it borders the sea. If we truly cannot beat the Qing army, we hide and wait for our moment.

The Qing soldiers are men too; they cannot keep their teeth locked on us forever. Once they slacken, we come out and deal them a fierce blow.

With the sixteen-character policy for dealing with the enemy, we can certainly gain a firm foothold in Xiangshan!"

"What kind of warfare is this sixteen-character method?"

"Mobile Corps Commander warfare!"

"Mobile Corps Commander warfare?"

Song Xianggong pondered briefly, then nodded.

"It can work.

But even if we can withstand the Qing army's attacks, Luoding is over a thousand li from Xiangshan, and the road is full of Qing troops the whole way. How do we get there?

We cannot sprout wings and fly over, can we?"

To reach Xiangshan, there was only one land route, and it passed through Guangzhou. If they did not take the land route, the only alternative was the sea — but the Taiping Camp had no navy.

And if they took the land route, Guangzhou was a great nail stuck in the road; without pulling out that nail, there was absolutely no way for the Taiping Camp's ten thousand people to swagger down to Xiangshan south of Guangzhou.

But even Li Dingguo's tens of thousands of troops had failed to take Xinhui, the little county town that served as Guangzhou's forward post — could the Taiping Camp's thousand-odd soldiers take it, and then slip past under the nose of the Qing army in Guangzhou to reach Xiangshan?

Song Xianggong looked at Zhou Shixiang with a grave expression. Although he trusted the man and acknowledged his abilities, this concerned the lives of the Taiping Camp's ten thousand people and his own life as well, so he could not be too careful.

If Zhou Shixiang could not produce a workable way to reach Xiangshan, he would absolutely not approve of marching on Xiangshan.

"Fly over we cannot. But we can blast our way through."

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