Chapter 409: Black Smoke

Before the mid-period, the Great Ming army's Qi-Blood Spirit and physique were still relatively healthy, so commanders of that era were genuine troop-leaders, and it was quite common for a single Assistant Regional Commander to command as many as ten thousand soldiers.

After the Jiajing era, however, an Assistant Regional Commander typically led only three to four thousand troops. Now, in the Chongzhen period, with national strength waning, vacancies rampant, and military organization in chaos, an ordinary Assistant Regional Commander had merely one or two thousand men under him.

This situation was unavoidable in feudal dynasties. In the late Song dynasty, bloated officialdom, superfluous personnel, and excess soldiers devoured the state finances, and the late Ming dynasty suffered the same fate.

Looking solely at the military, the Embroidered Uniform Guard alone had a long string of hereditary military nobles holding empty titles like Commander and Vice Commander. Apart from a handful of Senior Officers in the Hall who managed affairs, the rest were all rice-worms accumulated over successive reigns, feeding off the treasury.

The late Qing goes without saying — the iron-rice-bowl Eight Banners descendants are world-famous.

So, when it came down to the Hangjiahu Regional Vice-commander dispatching troops to suppress bandits, the number of soldiers mobilized this time was 1,500. This figure was already quite impressive, since the Vice-commander had only 3,000 troops in total under his command, and even that was thanks to being stationed in a high-GDP region.

Once a dizzying series of operations was completed, that seemingly inconspicuous yet critically important official document departed from Nanjing and was rushed by express courier all the way to Jinshan Guard.

At this point, only three days had passed since December 5th, the day Hundred-Household Officer Ma was brutally murdered. The seemingly sluggish and decaying bureaucratic system, propelled by a certain special force, had actually been super-efficient, finishing all the paperwork in just a few short days.

And when Vice-commander Feng of Jinshan Guard received the document, he immediately summoned his two Mobile Corps Commanders and "instructed them on the strategy."

What strategy did he instruct them on? One thing, and one thing only.

The military is different from the civilian world. In the army, everyone is a comrade-in-arms, and as long as there's no deliberate scheming, speaking plainly is best. So the Vice-commander laid out the entire background of this troop deployment openly.

Vice-commander Feng told his two subordinates explicitly that this mission appeared to be "official business" but was in reality "private work," and therefore he himself was "not in a position to move." First, if he personally mobilized, it would cause too great a stir; second, it would leave the court with no room to maneuver afterward.

The Military Chief Officer of a region absolutely cannot leave his post without authorization. Although the "bandit-suppression assistance" document had been issued, its wording was vague and its procedures irregular, so Vice-commander Feng intended to remain behind and hold the fort.

This way, if the court investigated in the future, the matter could be contained within a defensible scope. In short, the Vice-commander decided to stay in the rear to absorb pressure and handle the political loose ends. Of course, if the venture succeeded, the Vice-commander would certainly demand his share of the spoils.

Master Feng then analyzed the pros and cons of this expedition for his two subordinates: If successful, there would be reward silver, shares, and future court-lobbied promotion quotas from the Land Deed Alliance. If it failed, with troops lost and generals fallen, "bandit-suppression assistance" would become "unleashing soldiers to plunder," and dismissal from office was highly probable. Fortunately, with this vague document in hand, losing their lives was probably unlikely.

After analyzing the pros and cons, Master Feng handed the choice of leading the troops to the two Mobile Corps Commanders: whichever of you two is willing to wade into these murky waters can now discuss the details with the guest sent by the Xu family.

In the end, the younger and more vigorous of the two subordinates, Drill Guerilla Commander Wang Deqiao, unable to suppress his ambition for merit, declared his intention to gamble on this venture. The other, older Mobile Corps Commander, whose drive for advancement was largely spent, yielded the opportunity.

Thus, after Commander Wang and the guest negotiated all the terms, the battalion troops of Jinshan Guard swiftly set out on December 10th.

In theory, a military deployment is equally slow. But for the same reason as before, with a mysterious force intervening, everything became smooth and swift.

First, the most troublesome issue — the unit's mobilization funds — was easily resolved this time: since the masters had already placed heavy bets, they no longer cared about this paltry ten thousand taels of silver.

So Commander Wang did not inflate a single vacancy this time; he genuinely marched out of camp with 1,500 War Soldiers and 200 Auxiliary Soldiers. He also drew a batch of top-quality blades, armor, and uniforms from the armory... someone else was footing the bill, after all — an opportunity like this wouldn't come again.

Second, the issue of the troops' march logistics was also improved.

Normally, when regular troops march, they draw supplies from each county and prefecture along the way, which causes delays: the counties have limited hosting capacity, forcing the troops to scatter, and it drags out the journey, requiring reassembly afterward.

This time, there was none of that hassle.

From Jinshan Guard in the south to Zhangsu Port in the north was simply a matter of crossing the Yangtze Delta — a total journey of 60 kilometers, a very short distance.

Moreover, since this operation itself had many irregularities, the masters were unwilling to publicize it, let alone consume public grain from the local counties — in a pinch, all of that would become incriminating evidence.

So they used the old method: the bandit-suppression force rested and reorganized directly at the gentry estates along the route, disturbing no civilians while receiving ample provisions and fodder.

A 60-kilometer march, with 1,500 Battalion Troops paid in silver and amply supplied along the way, took two steady days. Finally, on Double 12, Drill Guerilla Commander Wang Deqiao, with his high-morale troops, entered and garrisoned the outskirts of Shanghai Port, built by Xiong Dao.

The entire Shanghai Port had long been under martial law.

Just like the last time the lake bandits came, the outer commercial district and Old Warehouse District had been vacated, generously left by Great Ming for the invaders to occupy.

But this time, the defensive plan was not to lure the enemy in deep: Iron Wire Traps now encircled the Port Authority Compound, and the low wall had become the main defensive line. Nearly 200 Action Team Members were now resting their Type 38 Rifles on the wall, silently awaiting the attack.

As the morning sunlight slanted onto the faces of the soldiers in their bright red padded jackets, making them squint, Commander Wang, already having arrayed his military formation a li away from the Port Authority Compound, slashed his hand down from horseback... the envoy stepped forward.

Over the past few days, Commander Wang had learned the full ins and outs of the matter in detail from the accompanying military envoy, Scholar Song. Not only did he understand the reasons, but Commander Wang now also knew: the "rapid fire lances" in the hands of those household guards behind the wall opposite could shoot four to five hundred paces.

Scholar Song dared not deceive him about this intelligence. The masters had paid an enormous price to hire this force, not to use them as cannon fodder like the lake bandits, so Commander Wang had long been briefed on the relevant intelligence. Besides, Commander Wang had his own information channels — the local garrison.

Thus, having grasped the situation, Commander Wang had already formulated a plan for how to fight this "bandit suppression" war.

First, the moment he learned of the rapid-fire lance's capabilities, Lord Wang had no intention of ordering a direct assault. He knew in his heart: regardless of the battle's outcome, if the Battalion Troops under his command suffered large-scale casualties, once the various parties investigated afterward, he would certainly take the blame.

Second, since the essence of this "bandit suppression" was still two groups of rich men fighting over wealth, it meant both sides could withdraw and cease fire at any moment to reach an agreement. In such a situation, if Commander Wang still charged in recklessly like a hotheaded youth, it would only prove his political immaturity.

Besides, the backer of that merchant surnamed Xiong opposite was a Deputy Regional Commander with real power, whose troops outnumbered his own Mobile Corps a hundredfold. Wang Deqiao's encirclement of Shanghai Port this time was simply taking advantage of the fact that the Regional Commander's reach did not extend this far.

Yet, since they were all part of the same military lineage, Commander Wang, though he had boarded the gentry's ship this time, had no intention of burning all bridges... what if one day in the future he was assigned to a post in Fujian and Guangdong?

So, after synthesizing intelligence from all sides, Commander Wang set an eight-character strategic policy for this mission: Pressure to force talks, talks to promote peace.

Now, the first step was complete: right there, just one li beyond the compound wall, 1,500 Regular Garrison Troops, imposing in bearing, high in spirit, sharp in weaponry and armor, with banners fluttering, had already formed their battle array — blades unsheathed, bows strung, seething with killing intent.

At this moment, a smooth-talking, sallow-faced personal soldier dispatched by the Commander emerged from the formation, waving a white flag, and walked straight toward the main gate.

This personal soldier was also surnamed Wang, a clansman of Commander Wang. When he reached the circle of Iron Wire Traps, guards had already come out from the compound gate and used pliers to unfasten a section of the wire, admitting the envoy inside.

After Soldier Wang entered the compound, he didn't see anything that particularly caught his eye. The bulk of the guards were currently behind the wall; behind them was arranged a circle of tables and chairs with some fire lances and ammunition on them — nothing more.

Soon, he met Master Xiong on the steps.

"This humble one, on behalf of my master, pays respects to Master Xiong."

Seeing the other party's respectful attitude, Xiong Dao nodded: "Dispense with formalities. Your Commander Wang has brought troops here — what instructions does he have?"

"Allow me to inform Master Xiong: before I came, my general said that bringing troops this time was also at the behest of an old friend, a matter of having no choice."

"If Master Xiong is willing to do us the honor, my general is willing to act as a mediator and help reconcile the various masters. That way, no side need resort to arms, and everyone can make a fortune together — would that not be a fine thing?"

"Mm." Xiong Dao nodded at this: "I hear the goodwill in your general's offer."

"However..." Xiong Dao drew out his tone here: "This matter involves far too many entanglements of cause and effect. Your general simply lacks the weight to tip the scales. So there's no need for further words. Go back and tell Commander Wang to first show me some of his capability. Good friends, as they say, only truly know each other after a fight."

After Soldier Wang returned to the military formation and finished his report, Commander Wang could not help but sigh, then raised his hand and waved once more: "It seems blood must be seen before they understand true power!"

Following Commander Wang's words, two bronze Crouching Tiger Cannons were slowly pushed out from behind the formation.

The Crouching Tiger Cannon had been widely used by the Ming Army since the era of Qi Jiguang. This cannon's power was modest, similar to later-generation mortars, primarily firing in a high arc. Its range was not particularly far; typically, with a heavy powder charge, it could reach a distance of 500 meters — though, of course, accuracy was poor at that range.

But in today's situation, the Crouching Tiger Cannon could show its strength perfectly: Commander Wang's goal was to fight to promote peace, so as long as the shells could land inside the compound opposite and make Master Xiong understand the truth that war kills people, that would suffice.

So, under the excited gaze of the entire army, the two Crouching Tiger Cannons pushed to the front began a series of pre-firing preparations: pressing down the gun carriage with stone blocks, swabbing the barrel, loading gunpowder...

But just as a gunner hugged an iron cannonball from the rear and prepared to stuff it into the barrel, his head suddenly burst open, and the iron ball rolled to the ground.

Only then did people hear the gunshot; those with sharp eyes even saw the muzzle flash — it came from the second floor rooftop opposite.

But that was as far as it went. No matter how sharp the soldiers' eyes were, they could not see Comrade Lu Cheng on that rooftop opposite, wearing a bright red monk's robe, sitting in an official's hat chair, and flamboyantly aiming an MK17 Sniper Rifle at his opponent.

"Whoosh—" At the sight of the gunner's corpse with its brain matter splattered, everyone surrounding the Crouching Tiger Cannons scattered in an instant.

And behind the gun position, Commander Wang of the Mobile Corps was likewise shocked. Sitting on his horse, he saw the muzzle flash on the opposite side and heard the gunshot, but he could not figure out whether this shot was a blind fluke or truly such divine marksmanship.

"Isn't a quick arquebus only good for four or five hundred paces? That's already over one li!" The furious Commander Wang now wished he could flay that Scholar Song beside him to death with a single whip-lash.

Yet aside from cursing a couple of times, he could no longer spare any attention for Scholar Song: the cannon crew were scattering and fleeing in all directions, and some soldiers who were nearby were also slowly retreating with pale faces. He needed to quickly steady the formation to prevent the troops from falling into total chaos.

He sent out his household retainers and personal guards to suppress the panic on all sides. After slowly steadying the battle lines, the enraged Commander Wang jumped off his horse. First he fiercely lashed the cannon crew banner several times: "It's nothing but a blind cat stumbling on a dead mouse — what are you afraid of? Get back there and fire the cannon for me!"

And so the trembling cannon crew began the loading procedure once more.

The next moment, the banner man hugging the iron cannonball had his brains burst open and died right in front of Commander Wang. Immediately after, that death-hastening gunshot rang out again and again, shooting down one after another of the personnel around the Crouching Tiger Cannon.

The main army then withdrew two hundred paces. By the time everything had been stabilized again, the entire army's morale was completely gone. One had to realize that they had now retreated one and a half li; the men could no longer even see the enemy on the opposite side, yet they faced being shot down by that strange firearm at any moment.

Commander Wang knew that he had been too arrogant after all. It seemed those masters' silver was truly not easy to earn.

Still, Wang Deqiao had already guessed that the accurate strange arquebus on the opposite side could not be something everyone possessed. Otherwise, if they had fired a few more rounds of volley fire just now, he would have had to turn around and go home.

The situation now laid out before Wang Deqiao was this: either send troops to charge recklessly in one wave to offset the impact of that strange arquebus, or just drag it out like this and ultimately slink away in disgrace...

And so the great Commander Wang gritted his teeth and chose a third path: cannon-fodder tactics.

He grabbed Scholar Song by the collar and said fiercely, "Go quickly and report to those several masters in the manor behind us: I want five hundred auxiliary soldiers for storming the formation. Also, bring more wood boards — that barbed wire cheval de frise must be broken with wood boards."

"As — as you command!" Scholar Song, equally badly frightened, nodded repeatedly at this. "May I ask what time the General requires these auxiliary soldiers?"

"Today morale is already spent; we cannot storm the formation. Go back and tell your masters not to begrudge the silver. I will make one charge tomorrow. Whether it succeeds or fails will depend on whether those auxiliary soldiers are willing to sell their lives!"

Scholar Song nodded repeatedly even as he mounted his horse and galloped away.

On this side, after arranging the strategy for the next day, Wang Deqiao led his troops in a weak and powerless half-day confrontation with the enemy. When the afternoon hours arrived, the main army hastily wrapped up and withdrew into the deserted commercial district to settle in.

At this time, sumptuous meals were also delivered from the nearby manor. And in view of today's confrontation, which had left the officers and soldiers baffled, utterly humiliated, and with morale in steep decline, Commander Wang promptly made an adjustment: he distributed reward silver to all the officers and soldiers once, and granted half of them some wine to drink.

The lavish rewards and the stimulation of silver and coin restored quite a bit of the officers' and soldiers' morale. Commander Wang, his mind now at ease, arranged troops to guard against a night raid by the enemy, then urged his subordinates to rest early — they were going to charge recklessly tomorrow, and needed to conserve their energy.

A hurried night passed, and the time arrived at December 13th. Seven full days had already gone by since Hundred-Household Officer Ma had been brutally murdered on December 5th.

Early morning, the great Commander Wang, who was devouring chicken with large bites in the main hall of the inn, was suddenly pulled out the door by his personal soldier, whose face was deathly pale.

"What matter causes such alarm? Have those household guards come to attack?"

"Black — black smoke!" The personal soldier was already incoherent; he could not explain clearly and just kept pointing his finger toward the direction of the sea.

The next moment, Commander Wang's mouth fell open, and the chicken leg in his hand dropped to the ground.

What entered his eyes was a stretch of large ships on the sea surface belching black smoke. Among them, the single largest giant ship had its masts fully hung with white sails, glittering with blue and gold in the morning light, while simultaneously billowing dense black smoke, exuding an aura of overwhelming pressure.

"We're done for. That fellow surnamed Xiong has summoned his godfather." Wang Deqiao murmured.