Chapter 248: 246 A Bizarre Night Raid (For Silver Alliance Patron

In the late Ming south, there really were no decent battles to fight.

City walls were in disrepair, military readiness slack — if Zhao Han ever ran into a real tough opponent, Chongzhen could laugh himself awake from sheer joy in his dreams.

This point is plain to see from the city walls all across southern Huguang.

So many of them are new!

Take Changsha Prefecture, for example: including Changsha city itself, it had eleven counties and one sub-prefecture. Of these twelve walled seats, by the end of the Zhengde reign seven had no proper city wall at all.

Xiangtan, a commercial city of such importance, was still using a wooden city wall in the early Wanli years.

Yet by the late Wanli years, every county and sub-prefecture seat in Changsha Prefecture had finished building brick-and-stone walls. The local officials' fundamental motive for constructing them was to guard against the peasant uprisings that flared one after another across southern Huguang during the Wanli reign.

A swarm of untrained peasants attacking was enough to send government troops fleeing with their tails between their legs.

The local officials, unable to resist, could only build walls, hold their positions, and let the peasant armies run rampant through the villages and market towns. Once the trouble grew large enough, the court would dispatch troops to encircle and suppress them — and a single campaign would drag on for years.

This was the normal state of warfare in the south; Zhao Han could not possibly encounter any serious resistance.

Just as Li Zheng was besieging Changsha, the Xia lineage of Xiangyin, Ningxiang, and Yiyang linked up to recruit troops.

The Xia lineage originally dwelt for generations in Yiyang; during the Northern Song period, one branch migrated to Ningxiang. In the Yongle years, a branch of the Jiangxi Xia lineage moved to Xiangyin and matched their genealogy with the Huguang Xia.

Three branches of the Xia, standing like a tripod, all distributed right next door to Changsha.

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Though their reaction was rather slow, they put on a huge show, raising over seven thousand local braves in all and advancing in a mighty procession to relieve Changsha.

Li Zheng had long since sent scouts to Xiangyin, mainly to probe the enemy situation there and see whether he could send a small force to seize the city by stealth.

Instead, the scouts discovered that from the direction of Xiangyin, several thousand militia braves were marching toward Changsha.

Li Zheng was overjoyed — this was exactly the sort of siege-and-ambush battle he wanted!

He did not dispatch many troops: Hu Dinggui and Chen Fugui each led five hundred regulars, setting out at night to circle north and lie in ambush in the Matan Mountains, forty li from Changsha city.

The Xia family's militia force moved so slowly that Hu Dinggui and Chen Fugui rested a full two days in the Matan Mountains before those fellows finally came straggling in.

A scout slipped back into the mountains and reported: "A dozen or so li to the north, those braves have camped by a river. Don't know what river it is — just a small river, anyway."

Hu Dinggui asked: "South bank or north bank?"

"South bank," the scout said. "The enemy started crossing the river in the morning and didn't finish hauling all their baggage across until mid-afternoon. I reckon they were tired and hungry and didn't want to march any further, so they just camped right by the river. The camp is a complete mess — they just cut some bamboo for a fence. There aren't more than a few proper tents; most of the enemy are sleeping in the open, and they've been burning grass all over the camp to smoke out the mosquitoes."

What the hell was this, an armed countryside outing?

Over seven thousand men, crossing a little river, and it took them an entire day.

And they camped after crossing the river, too — couldn't have been more considerate. Hu Dinggui wouldn't even need to cross water to raid their camp.

After nightfall, Hu Dinggui and Chen Fugui led their troops down from the mountains. They had taken off their armor beforehand and left it in the hills; all advanced light, making a forced night march of over ten li, and finally reached the enemy's riverside encampment.

The moonlight was bright tonight. Hu Dinggui crept forward quietly, and when he got close he nearly laughed out loud.

These militia troops raised by the gentry were no different from peasants at the very start of a rebellion. They understood nothing. The camp before his eyes committed practically every mistake it was possible to make.

Hu Dinggui and Chen Fugui, each with five hundred regulars, began closing in bit by bit.

"Kill!"

Hu Dinggui kicked over the bamboo fence with one foot and charged into the enemy camp as easily as you please.

The ordinary braves were almost all sleeping in the open, with nothing but a summer mat or a straw mat laid under them. Though they had burned grass at dusk to drive off the insects, the effect had long since worn off, and many of the braves were being bitten by mosquitoes and couldn't fall asleep.

In that sleepless state, a few more days of marching and they'd be physically and mentally exhausted before ever fighting a battle.

When a thousand Great Unity Army soldiers stormed into the main camp, the braves jolted awake in panic.

In the dim, shadowy confusion, they had no idea how many enemies had come. Their first reaction was to flee — they didn't even stop to grab their weapons, just bolted toward the little river.

Splash, splash…

The sound of bodies hitting water was unending — all of them had jumped in of their own accord. These Hunan men nearly all knew how to swim, and they weren't wearing armor either. They had long since made up their minds: the moment they met the enemy, they'd jump in the river and escape. Apart from the sons of the gentry, the ordinary soldiers had no desire whatsoever to fight.

The tenant farmers especially — they joined the militia purely because the landlords had promised to reduce their rent this year, and because the militia provided meals every day.

The militia army of over seven thousand men, as if acting on a single order, scrambled over one another in a mad dash northward and leaped in unison into the nameless little river. Then they broke out every swimming stroke imaginable — some dog-paddled, some did the breaststroke, some the front crawl — as if the night raid had suddenly turned into a swimming race.

Along the Xiang River, some grain-transport boats were also moored; the moment they heard the commotion, they cast off and rowed away.

The thousand Great Unity Army troops pursued to the riverbank and, watching the river churn under the moonlight, were all left utterly dumbfounded.

Hu Dinggui and Chen Fugui exchanged a look, both not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

"How many did you kill?" Hu Dinggui asked.

Chen Fugui said: "I was just focused on chasing the enemy and throwing their camp into chaos — haven't killed a single one yet."

A thousand elite Great Unity troops, launching a night raid on over seven thousand braves, had cut clear through the enemy camp — and it seemed neither side had shed much blood.

The braves who couldn't flee in time simply dropped flat on the ground and surrendered. And the Great Unity Army men, intent on sowing chaos in the camp as fast as possible, had no time to kill those lying on the ground — they were all charging madly deeper in.

In all his time since enlisting, Hu Dinggui had never fought such a bizarre engagement.

After daybreak, they counted heads: over six hundred prisoners taken.

And they finally discovered casualties: one brave trampled to death, seven braves casually stabbed to death in passing.

"Does this count as a victory?" Chen Fugui was a bit confused, since most of the enemy had successfully escaped.

Hu Dinggui pointed at the provisions in the camp and laughed: "Of course it's a victory. The enemy's lost their grain and fodder — who knows how long it'll be before they can try coming again."

Chen Fugui scratched his head. "So they basically came just to deliver provisions to us."

"Hahahaha!"

Hu Dinggui roared with laughter.

The provisions for over seven thousand men were certainly plentiful. A pity that half had been transported by boat and those boats had rowed off during the night — otherwise they could have captured even more.

Hu Dinggui summoned a prisoner for questioning: "Where are you from?"

"Xiangyin, Xia Family Hollow," the prisoner answered.

Hu Dinggui was a little surprised: "You actually speak the Jiangxi dialect?"

The prisoner said: "From what the old-timers say, our whole village there moved from Dexing in Jiangxi."

"Old cousin," Hu Dinggui said with a grin, "I'm from Fengcheng — not far from Dexing, just a few counties in between. Why help the officials fight their war?"

The prisoner answered, "Master Xia said if we enlist as militia, this year's land rent gets cut by ten percent. And when we march out to fight, the masters even provide the meals."

Hu Dinggui simply had all several hundred prisoners summoned over and declared loudly, "You fellows — you've been had far too cheaply, selling your lives for the landlords over a few pecks of rice. Has anyone here heard of Heavenly King Zhao?"

"Heard… heard of him," the prisoners answered in scattered voices, many of them looking terrified.

Hu Dinggui sensed something was off and said, "Go on, all of you — what sort of man is Heavenly King Zhao, the way they tell it where you come from?"

No one answered. None dared speak.

Hu Dinggui pointed at the prisoner from before. "Old cousin, you speak. No lying!"

The prisoner quavered, "Heavenly King Zhao loves to kill people, and he loves eating human flesh. Heavenly King Zhao's soldiers want to slaughter all the able-bodied men, seize all the women, and use the children for army rations."

"His mother's — these landlords can really spin a tale!" Hu Dinggui flew into a rage and barked an order. "Propaganda officer, get over here and explain things to them! I'm going to get some sleep!"

The troops took turns resting for half a day. After the noon meal, Hu Dinggui gave the order to head back. Those several hundred prisoners were all put to work hauling grain.

Along the way, the propaganda officer explained the policies over and over, until the prisoners' eyes lit up as they listened.

It was not only the tenant farmers — the freeholding peasants yearned for it too. As long as Mr. Zhao came, they too could receive land.

Hu Dinggui wanted to suggest to Li Zheng that, once this battle was over, they issue grain to the prisoners and send them home to spread the word on their own.

The prisoners and the grain supplies were still on the road when Li Zheng got word of it. He immediately had more surrender-letters written.

"Governor, rebel troops to the north!"

Wang Zhiliang rushed at once to the northern wall and indeed saw a thousand Great Unity Army soldiers, escorting several hundred prisoners as they approached. The grain was so plentiful that the several hundred prisoners could not handle it all, and several hundred Great Unity Army troops had been diverted to haul grain as well.

Li Zheng immediately ordered letters shot into the city. The defending officers and men read them and turned ashen with terror.

The gentry who had raised funds and organized the militia were especially frightened — they were shaking all over. The letter's content was simple: Li Zheng falsely claimed he had seized Xiangyin, and that Changsha had become an isolated city.

The gentry went en masse to find Wang Zhiliang. Wang Zhiliang said steadily, "There is no need to panic. This is a lie."

One of the gentry said frantically, "But the rebel troops really are coming from the north, and they have brought many prisoners and supplies. Xiangyin must have fallen!"

Wang Zhiliang explained, "Either the rebels ambushed a relief force, or they went north to plunder. Those prisoners and supplies are all things they seized."

The moat outside the city had already had a long stretch filled in — Li Zheng had sent grain-transport teams to carry earth there every day.

Tao Aizhi looked at the filled-in section of the moat and quietly gave his three younger brothers some instructions. Then he went to find Wang Zhiliang, cupped his hands, and said, "Governor, this late-born student could let myself down from the wall in a basket by night and go to the rebel camp to feign surrender. I would arrange to act as their inside agent, and three days from now, raise a fire as the signal. Once they enter the barbican, we catch the turtle in the jar. Though we cannot annihilate the rebel army, we can break their morale, and thereby raise our own troops' spirits."

The city garrison numbered over eleven thousand men, and the Tao family alone had raised more than four thousand of them. Wang Zhiliang took the four Tao brothers very seriously.

Wang Zhiliang shook his head. "The rebels will not fall for it, and they will detain you. Do not take such a risk."

Tao Aizhi said, "This late-born student can tell the rebels that the Governor sent me to feign surrender, but that I truly intend to join the rebels. Then, on the pretext of returning to the city to make arrangements, I can extricate myself at leisure."

Wang Zhiliang did not agree, but sank into thought.

The city of Changsha was tall and solidly built. Defending it was certainly not the problem — the problem was that morale had been falling steadily.

In ancient siege warfare, a city could hold out for months at a time. Unless the entire army was resolved to die, the gates were never sealed shut. One important reason for leaving the gates open was to sally forth from time to time and fight a few engagements. Even a small victory could lift morale — even a draw could lift morale. Otherwise, the longer the siege dragged on, the lower the defenders' morale sank.

And this motley crowd under Wang Zhiliang's command had been besieged barely half a month, and already their spirits were wavering. A small victory was imperative.

At this moment, Wang Zhiliang was hoping the rebels would hurry up and assault the city, so that he could use the walls to keep inflicting casualties on them. As long as he could inflict casualties, morale would rise — but Li Zheng was doing nothing but taking his time filling in the moat.

Watching the moat get filled in section by section was, for the motley crowd inside the city, a form of slow torture.

If the rebels actually launched an assault, they would not be half so panicked.

The feeling was like waiting for the other boot to drop.

After turning it over and over in his mind, Wang Zhiliang decided to take the risk. He said to Tao Aizhi, "Then go out of the city tonight."

Tao Aizhi had no choice either. The gate area was entirely manned by Wang Zhiliang's troops, while his own Tao family troops were all deployed to defend the walls — and had been split into four separate contingents.

He had considered starting a fire inside the city at night, but feared failure; if it failed, the four brothers would certainly be executed.

The only way was to have Li Zheng bring his troops to attack the city, and to attack precisely those sections of wall defended by the Tao family troops, so that the two sides could coordinate perfectly. But that meant asking Li Zheng to take a risk. If the Tao family troops double-crossed them, and the preparations were insufficient, the Great Unity Army soldiers would suffer terrible casualties.

Li Zheng and Tao Aizhi neither one truly trusted the other.

From Li Zheng's perspective, Tao Aizhi had four thousand troops — he could simply turn on the city from within, and Li Zheng could then seize the moment to storm the walls.

To put it plainly, each wanted the other to make the first move. That was why things had dragged on until now.

Tao Aizhi's risky venture out of the city this time was precisely to communicate with Li Zheng face to face; otherwise, their coordination would never be seamless.

(End of chapter)