Chapter 462: Seizing the Gate

The Qing soldier's fingertips were about to touch the cotton quilt, and the hand of the cart-pushing outrider had also touched the javelin's wooden shaft. Yang Guang's left hand gripped the short blade, lifting it slightly beneath his tattered outer robe.

Suddenly the Qing soldier's hand changed direction, veering beside the quilt to grab a bolt of Songjiang cloth, then dragged the cloth off the carriage.

Yang Guangdi froze for a moment. Just as he was at a loss, a dark shadow whipped toward the top of that Qing soldier's head. Yang Guangdi stared in astonishment and saw Manda'er holding a horsewhip, lashing wildly at the Qing soldier's head and face, cursing and shouting without pause.

That Qing soldier was in utter disarray. He dropped the Songjiang cloth, retreating and yelling at the same time. As he backed off the road, he stumbled and fell. Manda'er paid no heed and kicked straight at him.

Yang Guangdi found himself unable to draw a breath. His body swayed once before he recovered. The Qing soldier's hat had been knocked off, revealing a queue just like Manda'er's. He raised both hands, his mouth firing off a rapid stream of shouts, trading curses nonstop with Manda'er.

At that moment a Qing soldier came over from the camp gate. Yang Guangdi stole a glance. This man wore no hat, exposing a bare, bluish scalp. He wore no armor either, but was wrapped in a padded coat — likely a true Yi.

That true Yi passed in front of Qin Jiuze. He did not look up to study the cavalryman, but went straight to Manda'er's side and questioned the two who were arguing. Yang Guangdi still could not understand what was said.

His back was to Yang Guangdi, his small queue swaying back and forth in Yang Guangdi's field of vision. With the enemy so close at hand, Yang Guangdi felt some agitation in his heart, stealing constant glances at the queue behind that Qing soldier's head.

Manda'er pointed at the carriage, then at the camp gate, bellowing with an overbearing manner. That Qing soldier seemed somewhat embarrassed, stammering as if in explanation.

Another true Yi appeared at the camp gate, probably an officer. He shouted angrily at the several Mongols. The Mongols seemed somewhat afraid of him. After listening only a moment, each lowered his head and walked back beside the horse cart. Yang Guangdi could guess what that true Yi was cursing about. For any army encampment, the camp gate was a vital point — no one was allowed to block it. These Mongols seemed to have no concept of military law whatsoever.

The carriages began leaving one by one, wheels rumbling over the stone-paved road. Those Mongols were still muttering curses under their breath. As they passed near Yang Guangdi, none of them glanced their way.

Yang Guangdi kept his attention on the true Yi beside him. Nearby, Manda'er's voice was still raised, arguing fiercely with that Mongol.

The last horse cart at the camp gate was just departing. The groom was whipping the packhorse, but the wheel seemed stuck in a cart rut. Several attempts failed to get the cart moving. Another groom was pushing the cart with force, but the wheel rose once only to fall back again.

Yang Guangdi saw more and more Qing soldiers at the camp gate, and several Qing soldiers had also appeared near the formation. His mouth and tongue instantly went dry.

At this moment Qin Jiuze ahead dismounted, walking over while cursing. After exchanging a couple of words with the groom, he joined in pushing the other wheel with force.

Beside them, Manda'er let out a furious roar. The Qing soldier next to him stepped back and bumped into Yang Guangdi's shoulder. Yang Guangdi hastily retreated a step. The true Yi now turned his head and spoke a sentence to the several other Anqing cavalrymen ahead. Those cavalrymen did not understand what he said and gave no response, each turning his head back. Manda'er was in the middle of arguing with that first Mongol and did not notice for the moment.

That true Yi's gaze swept over this group on foot, then suddenly stopped on the Banner Commander. The Banner Commander kept his head lowered. The true Yi then slowly shifted backward, looking at the others in the ranks.

This true Yi was standing right beside Yang Guangdi. Yang Guangdi had already sensed the change in him. Though his head was bowed, his eyes were locked dead onto the other's arm. The true Yi's body turned slightly, still scanning the ranks behind.

Yang Guangdi's entire body was taut. A sudden sharp pain came from his right hand. Yang Guangdi reacted instantly — the fire rope had burned to his fingers. His fingers twitched and released the fire rope. The muscles on his face spasmed, and his body could not help but shudder once.

The true Yi beside him visibly turned his body toward him. Yang Guangdi could not help but look up. That Qing soldier happened to be looking his way as well, his eyes full of shock and suspicion.

Their gazes locked for an instant. The atmosphere seemed frozen solid. Yang Guangdi could feel neither breath nor heartbeat. Finally, that Qing soldier's mouth opened.

Yang Guangdi had no time to think further. His body spun violently, the small knife in his hand thrusting out from under the tattered outer robe, stabbing straight into the true Yi's waist and ribs. The cart-pushing outrider lunged over and locked his arm tightly around the Qing soldier's neck. The true Yi's mouth gaped wide, unable to shout, only producing rasping, gurgling sounds.

Manda'er was angled toward this direction. Seeing what was happening, he grabbed the cloth-snatching Mongol in a headlock and dragged him toward the formation, shouting curses at the top of his lungs. That Mongol only thought Manda'er meant to beat him and kicked wildly while cursing back.

The commoners watching from outside had their attention fixed on the clamorous Manda'er. Seeing the two suddenly start fighting, they retreated backward in fright, even letting out a few startled cries.

The outriders near Yang Guangdi closed in around them, blocking the view from outside. The Banner Commander also locked his arm around that Mongol's neck and plunged a short blade in. Only then did the Mongol show utter terror, thrashing violently amid the crowd.

Everything was utterly silent. Yang Guangdi pressed himself tightly against the true Yi. The short blade in his left hand was still lodged in the other's waist and ribs. Warm liquid flowed along the back of his hand, then trickled down his wrist all the way to his elbow, soaking through the padded coat and dripping onto the stone slabs of the road.

The padded coat at the true Yi's waist was stained red with fresh blood. He was still twitching. The cart-pushing outrider's head was pressed against the other side, his arm locked deathly tight around the true Yi's neck. The true Yi's wide-open mouth could no longer produce any sound.

Yang Guangdi turned his head, nervously scanning all around. Nearby were only the figures of outriders. They blocked the view from outside. The Banner Commander's figure was over by Manda'er, having just twisted the Mongol's neck forcefully in one direction. Yang Guangdi heard a faint cracking sound.

Through the gaps between cavalrymen, Qin Jiuze pushed the cart wheel with force, working together with two Qing soldiers to lift the wheel out of the rut. The horse cart finally began slowly leaving. The Qing soldier driving the horse held the reins, leading the horse toward the right side of the road, gradually clearing the camp gate area.

The open north gate gradually revealed itself before them. Through the side view between the two cavalrymen ahead, Yang Guangdi could see the tents inside the parade ground, as well as the dozen-plus Qing soldiers in front of the gate. Two of them seemed to have noticed the commotion over here and were tilting their heads to look, making as if to walk over.

The true Yi before him went limp. Blood still flowed over his hand. Yang Guangdi gasped for breath, only then feeling the burning pain coming from his right hand again. He hurriedly loosened the fire rope by one loop.

Manda'er now rose to his feet from the ground, both hands covered in red bloodstains.

"Take up weapons!"

The Banner Commander's voice rang out. Yang Guangdi and the cart-pushing outrider both released their grip. That true Yi's eyes were wide open, his body squeezed among the crowd of people, limp but unable to collapse for the moment.

Yang Guangdi extended his bright red left hand and lifted the red cotton quilt. Waist sabers and black Lumi guns lay quietly on the carriage. The cart-pushing outrider took a javelin first. The Banner Commander also came to the carriage, took a blade staff in hand. Manda'er, his expression ferocious, turned and walked toward his mount.

The artillerymen at the rear took down the cannon and began loading priming powder. The copper kettle mouth used for loading struck against the fire gate, producing faint clinking sounds.

The formation ahead moved. Manda'er, mounted on his horse, led the way straight toward the camp gate. Yang Guangdi took a Lumi gun, held the fire rope before his face, and blew on it once. The spark was very small, but Yang Guangdi's heart suddenly was no longer nervous. His hands did not tremble in the slightest.

He blew on the fire rope once more. The glowing point began to grow larger. He steadily clamped the fire rope onto the dragon head and walked forward with the formation.

That last horse cart rumbled past beside the formation. The Mongol driving the cart even glanced into the crowd as he passed, noticing some in the formation holding weapons. He seemed to sense something was amiss, but did not immediately grasp what was happening. They did not look closely and simply passed by.

Qin Jiuze did not return to the formation. He stopped by the roadside ten paces from the camp gate, his manner leisurely as he stood at an angle to the Qing soldiers at the gate. His left hand rested on the bow case, the fingers of his right hand secretly gripping the tail shaft of an armor-piercing bodkin arrow.

Banner Commander Chen shouted low from behind, "Artillery, forward."

The cannon cart, pushed by four cannoneers, moved past Yang Guangdi's left side toward the roadside. The dozen-plus Qing soldiers at the gate all saw that cannon, utterly failing to understand what was going on. The Anqing small cannon placed extreme emphasis on mobility. Its shape — large wheels and a small barrel — was completely different from the small-wheel, large-barrel design common for cannons at the time. The Qing soldiers could not even tell whether this shaped object was a cannon or a carriage.

The small cannon moved to the roadside and gained a field of fire. The cannon crew immediately turned to aim at the camp gate.

A fierce shout erupted from the formation. The foot soldiers flung open their tattered outer robes one after another, revealing all manner of sharp blades. Qin Jiuze's left hand suddenly drew his step bow, his right hand bringing out an armor-piercing bodkin arrow. He swiftly nocked it onto the bowstring, aiming at that Qing officer beside the gate ten paces away. The bowstring drew back rapidly.

Zeng Baci's fire rope descended toward the fire gate on the cannon barrel.

……

Three li away, over three hundred cavalrymen waited on the post road. The horses were all on the outer side, the soldiers standing on the inner side, to keep the red military uniforms from being too conspicuous.

Chen Rulie had been holding up his telescope the entire time. A cloud of white smoke suddenly burst in the lens. A moment later, the sound of cannon fire came from afar.

Chen Rulie snapped the telescope shut and waved toward the formation. Command shouts rang out in the ranks. Without the slightest delay, the cavalry of the first team began to set out.

They began accelerating from the moment they set off. Chen Rulie, carrying the Qianzong's flag of authority and signal drum, merged into the formation of the second team.

The sound of the horn beside him rang out. The formation accelerated again. The distance between front and rear rapidly stretched open. The horses' backs rose and fell with the gallop. Chen Rulie's body rose and fell with ease, as steady as if he were on the ground.

The third horn sounded. Chen Rulie flicked his horsewhip once. Without needing him to strike, his mount broke into a run on its own. The mane on the horse's head and neck quivered. The cold wind scraped against his face. The black-and-white patchwork earth on both sides of the post road flew backward rapidly, just like years ago when they rushed toward Fierce Tiger Bridge — a full-speed run that left no margin.

The dense sound of hooves was like muffled thunder from the horizon. Over three hundred cavalrymen sprinted at full speed, surging toward Dong'e County town like a long red dragon.

The sound of the second cannon shot came, swallowed up in the rolling thunder of hooves.