Chapter 105: Beware the Ankle-Squeezers! (Seeking Favorites, Seeking Recommendations)

"The Zhu Crown Prince has already gone to the northern city, and Wu Sangui and the armored soldiers of the Yi Ding cavalry have all followed him! Those left in the southern city now are a rabble that can't fight — our chance has come!"

The speaker was a burly man with a ferocious face, sporting thick sideburns and a full beard, his face so swarthy that one might mistake him for a warrior like the fierce Zhang Fei. In fact, he too was a juren, surnamed Fan, given name Zhong, courtesy name Wenda. His family background was similar to that of Juren Zhang — both were hereditary Chiliarchs of the three garrisons of Tianjin.

His looks had most likely been inherited from his ancestors... and what a formidable ancestor that was! He had followed Xu Da and Chang Yuchun on the northern expedition against the Central Plains, then pressed deep into the northern desert, fighting all the way to the Yuan upper capital of Kaiping. Truly he had the valor of a man who could hold off ten thousand — he was known as Fan the Invincible!

But while looks can be inherited, martial skill cannot. Though Juren Fan looked as if he could take on a hundred men by himself, he had never properly trained in the martial arts. His talents all lay in the eight-legged essay, and he wrote them superbly — a celebrated talent renowned throughout Tianjin, very likely to pass the jinshi examination. So whoever could reopen the civil examinations in the north and let him earn his jinshi degree would be the enlightened sovereign in Juren Fan's heart.

Listening to him was a refined, pale-faced scholar of about thirty, with a three-strand beard — none other than the host of this gathering, Juren Zhang. He was not dressed in Confucian robes, but wore a blue tight-sleeved archer's jacket, with a treasured sword hanging from his belt. He sat upright in a grand armchair, one hand resting on his knee, the other pressing on the sword hilt, listening quietly.

"We need only wait for the weather to clear, and the Shun heavenly troops will surely press their attack. Then the Zhu traitor's forces will be stretched even thinner. Our chance will come. The people of Tianjin city have long had their fill of the Zhu traitor's fatuous emperor and corrupt officials — they are all bursting with the urge to rise up in revolt, only held down by the Zhu traitor's Embroidered Uniform Guard. We need only take the lead in raising the banner, and the whole city will follow. If we can capture the Zhu traitor's Emperor, we shall be founding heroes of the new Shun dynasty!"

Juren Zhang nodded repeatedly: "Brother Wenda certainly has a way! I say we all act according to Brother Wenda's plan. On the first midnight after the weather clears, we rise up together and storm the palace where the Zhu traitor's Emperor is staying. I saw the other day that the Shun heavenly troops all wear blue clothes and white caps. We'll do the same — each of us go back and gather blue clothes and white felt caps. On the day of the uprising, have all our sons, brothers, and household retainers put them on and disguise themselves as Shun heavenly troops."

"Right, right!" Juren Fan added, "And we must also prepare the Roving King's banner... when the time comes, everyone shout that the Roving King's troops have arrived — that alone will scare the Zhu traitors to death!" As he spoke, his brow furrowed again. "But we still don't quite know where the Zhu traitor's Emperor actually is. How will we lay hands on him when the time comes?"

Juren Zhang laughed heartily, shaking his head: "This mountain man has a clever plan of his own!"

......

Clang, clang, clang, clang...

The piercing sound of the gongs signaling retreat once again rang across the battlefield. Another assault by Tang Tong's troops had been smashed to pieces by the Ming army defending the northern city of Tianjin.

The retreating men, passing through the ramparts held fast by the Shun army's veteran camp soldiers, collapsed one after another into the mud and water, gasping for breath in great heaves, with no strength left to move. The unit commander, Tang the Fourth, had already been wounded. His helmet and white cap were both gone, and his head was wrapped in a filthy strip of cloth, faintly stained red with blood. This wound had been inflicted by a turtledove-foot matchlock! Not by a bullet — had it been that, he would have died cleanly. Rather, he had been jabbed by a three-foot-long armor-piercing spike mounted on the front of a matchlock. The spike's tip had knocked off his helmet, and the keen edge of the slender triangular blade had grazed his forehead. Fortunately it was not the blade proper, or his face would have been ruined beyond recognition.

The practice of mounting a long spike on a matchlock was something Tang the Fourth had never seen in his many years of campaigning. It was clearly a new tactic the Ming army had just adopted — whoever thought of it, damn it all, had no regard for karmic virtue!

Tang the Fourth, who had fought for three days and three nights straight, was now dazed and groggy, his head throbbing with pain, wishing only to die. Yet he still struggled to his feet and made his way toward a village where the great command banners of Li Guo and Tang Tong were planted. Because of his hard fighting over the past three days, he had been promoted to Mobile Corps Commander — though it was not really a proper Mobile Corps Commander rank, just a private appointment by Tang Tong. There were no benefits, and the responsibilities were not small: he had to report the frontline situation to Li Guo and Tang Tong, then receive new orders.

This village was very close to the northern city of the Tianjin garrison. A few days earlier it had been a prosperous and bustling place, but now it was utterly destroyed. All the able-bodied men of the village had been pressed into labor service — either piling earth, filling trenches, or being drafted into Tang Tong's army. As for the women, children, the old and the weak, there were suitable tasks for them too. Only some very young children and women with a bit of beauty received a little preferential treatment and were allowed to remain in the village...

At the village entrance stood many warriors wearing straw rain capes and bamboo hats, every one of them sturdy and strong — clearly veteran camp soldiers of the Shun army. They were men who had crawled out of piles of corpses, their hearts long since hardened like steel. Seeing the carnage ahead — corpses heaped like mountains and blood like a sea — their faces still wore an air of nonchalance.

Tang the Fourth, seeing this, hated them to the extreme. He had originally been a government soldier sent to suppress the bandits, and his defection to the Shun had truly not been of his own will. Now he was being used up as cannon fodder, watching the brothers who had fought beside him for years fall one by one — and all dying for nothing. How could he not feel bitter resentment?

But this resentment could only be buried deep in his heart. On the surface he still had to act cautiously and treat those veteran camp soldiers like lords.

When he walked into the large courtyard where Tang Tong was staying, Li Guo and Tang Tong were in the middle of a conversation.

Li Guo told Tang Tong: "The southeast wind has stopped, and the rain is falling lighter and lighter. Tomorrow it will most likely clear... The chance to take the Tianjin garrison in one stroke and capture the Zhu father and son is nearly upon us!"

"My Lord Marquis, can we truly take the Tianjin garrison? My officers and men have suffered grievous casualties these past two days!"

"Heh heh, I've already seen it... Wu Sangui's Yi Ding cavalry is nothing special. They're just big and strong, but not all that fierce — the veteran camp soldiers don't fear them." Li Guo stroked his full beard and chuckled. "Li Yan and Hong Niangzi are also fully prepared. They've requisitioned more than a hundred grain-transport boats and readied a great deal of dry straw! Heh heh, as soon as the sky clears and the southeast wind stops, we can attack the pontoon bridge with fire.

"Once the pontoon bridge is destroyed, Chen Yongfu's men can go seize the Zheng family's merchant ships! The Wei River is not the open sea, after all — how could those sea merchants be a match for our Shun soldiers? Even if we can't seize many ships, driving them off will do... In any case, what we want is the Zhu father and son!"

"Then should my officers and men continue the attack tonight?" Tang Tong asked again.

He now understood what bitter task Li Guo and Li Yan had assigned him — to use the flesh and blood of his own troops to draw the Ming army's main force to the northern city of the Tianjin garrison, then burn the pontoon bridge in one stroke and drive off the Zheng family's warships, splitting the Ming army between the northern and southern cities of the Tianjin garrison...

This battle plan was indeed brilliant, but it was bitter for the officers and men under Tang Tong. Three days and nights of assaults had brought grievous casualties, and there was no plunder to be had either.

After Li Guo finished giving his instructions, he departed cheerfully. At that moment, Tang the Fourth, who had long since arrived outside the door, dragged his weary steps inside, his eyes somewhat shifty.

"Commander... the brothers have suffered terrible casualties. They can't fight anymore!"

Tang Tong waved his hand dismissively: "What's the use of saying that? There's still one more night... fight as hard as you can. Once it's over, you can rest."

"Rest?" Tang the Fourth's face was full of anguish. "Not a single copper coin..."

Tang Tong smiled bitterly: "There will be some money. Word just came that His Majesty has issued an edict to squeeze illicit wealth from former officials of the old dynasty in the capital of rank six and above. Over a thousand people have already been arrested, and all have been handed over to the Marquis of Ru to be tortured for extraction! I hear the Marquis of Ru has also ordered the forging of five thousand pairs of ankle-squeezers, with ridges and spikes, capable of breaking a man's hands and feet. They should be able to squeeze out quite a bit of silver..."

Tang the Fourth's eyes darted about. He stepped forward two paces, drew close to Tang Tong, and lowered his voice: "Commander... you were also rank six or above in the old dynasty, weren't you!"

A flash of terror crossed Tang Tong's face. He glared at Tang the Fourth: "Fourth Brother, what nonsense are you talking? I defected to the Shun at Juyong Pass — it's different!"

"Different?" Tang the Fourth said coolly. "How many officials of rank six and above are there in the capital? What need would there be for five thousand pairs of ankle-squeezers? Commander... you'd best be careful. Don't use up all your brothers, and then get dragged off by Liu Huanghu to be put in the ankle-squeezers!"

"You—" Tang Tong's body shuddered, and every hair on his body stood on end!

Tang the Fourth was right! How many officials of rank six and above were there in Beijing? What use was there for five thousand pairs of ankle-squeezers? It stood to reason that among those ankle-squeezers, there was a pair meant for him too!

(End of Chapter)