Chapter 1158: The Great Ming's Foremost Warrior — The Great King Is Here!

At the hour of wei on the tenth day of the ninth month in the fifteenth year of Hongxing of the Great Ming, the Spanish cannonballs slammed precisely into the outer wall of Benxun Temple. Firing at that moment were six Spanish six-pounder field guns, shooting solid shot. Though they did not punch through the temple's outer wall in a single blow, they loosened the rammed earth, and clods of mud on the wall top came rattling down in streams. In this situation, no one could stand on the temple's perimeter wall, and the defenders had no choice but to come down from the wall top and hold the firing loopholes cut into the wall face.

Zhu Cihuan also sensed that things were turning bad. Earlier the Shimazu troops had been firing blanks — crackling and popping with great liveliness, but not killing a single man — and they had only fired without charging, which was in fact going easy on him. At that time the prince had been quite pleased, thinking he might still hold out until reinforcements arrived — the messenger seeking aid had already been dispatched, and the Shimazu troops indeed had not blocked him. The man Hoshina Masateru had sent out to seek help was a "flying foot," that is, a "courier" from old Japan — he rode no horse and drove no cart, but simply raced along on his own two legs, and it was said he ran no slower than a man on horseback.

During the army's march south, Hoshina Masateru had set up a temporary "flying-foot station" every fifty or sixty li, and along the eight-hundred-li mountain road he had laid out more than ten stations in all, so that in three days at most a message could reach Riverside Fort. And from Riverside Fort to the America Prefecture fortress there was a six-hundred-li express relay, so in two days at most the news could be delivered.

Three days plus two days made five days. And for the Ming army in America Prefecture to complete its assembly at Riverside Fort would take at least three days, and then to set out from America Fort — even with the route opened in advance by Zhu Cihuan's force, these eight hundred li of mountain terrain would still not be easy to cross; no matter what, it would take twenty days of marching, would it not?

So Zhu Cihuan would have to hold out at Benxun Temple for at least a month. If the little Shimazu lady was willing to go easy on him, that would of course be no problem. But now the little lady had turned her face away and refused to recognize him — she had even hauled out the cannons!

Zhu Cihuan, sitting in the main hall of Benxun Temple, had originally still felt a little — no, a great deal — of fondness for Shimazu Naoyoshi, but now not a bit remained; all that was left was gnashing, grinding hatred!

Outside, the cannon boomed and rumbled, while inside the hall he cursed in a low voice: "Damned little wench, if We escape this calamity, We will surely seize you and give you a thorough disciplining... then don't you complain about the pain!"

Just as he was indulging his tongue, Hoshina Masateru suddenly called out to him: "Great King, Your Highness! Could you speak a little more clearly?"

More clearly? What did he mean?

Zhu Cihuan turned his head and saw that Hoshina Masateru was holding a notebook and a writing brush in his hands, as if about to record something. Could it be that he meant to record his words?

"What — what do you mean, speak more clearly?" Zhu Cihuan at once felt a little guilty. What he had just said was hardly anything good, and if it were recorded and passed down to later generations, it would be somewhat embarrassing.

"Your death poem, of course!" Hoshina Masateru cried out. "It is too noisy here; your servant cannot hear clearly!"

Outside, the booming and rumbling of cannon fire was still going on! So Hoshina Masateru had not heard clearly what Zhu Cihuan was saying, and thought he was reciting his death poem.

"What? What is a death poem?" Zhu Cihuan did not understand this.

"It is the poem a warrior leaves behind when departing this world on the verge of death!"

"Nonsense!" Zhu Cihuan sprang to his feet and said furiously to Hoshina Masateru, "How is We on the verge of death? We intend to live to a hundred!"

"Great King, Your Highness," Hoshina hastily explained, "this — this death poem is not something written at the moment of death; it is always written in advance and carried on one's person. On the battlefield, bullets and blades have no eyes, and one may die at any moment. If one does not prepare in advance, there will be no time when the moment comes!"

"You — you — you are cursing Us!" Zhu Cihuan was nearly bursting with rage. Hoshina Masateru had always been greatly to his liking — how was it that now he was spouting such nonsense?

Hoshina Masateru for a moment did not know what to say. What time was it now? How could this prince still not have the slightest awareness of "passing away"?

Just then, the cannon fire outside suddenly stopped.

Zhu Cihuan's expression improved a little, and he said to Hoshina: "Do you hear that? They have stopped firing!"

"Great King, Your Highness," Hoshina Masateru said, his face turning pale, "it must be that a section of the outer wall has been brought down by the bombardment, and the Shimazu clan's arquebus warriors are about to charge!"

Cannons finish firing, then infantry charges — of course!

Zhu Cihuan's face instantly turned as white as paper as well, and he had no time to waste words with Hoshina. He strode out and dashed from the main hall.

Once outside, he saw that a long stretch of the earthen wall to his left front had collapsed — a full twenty paces wide. This earthen wall had not been built very solidly!

But the warriors defending Benxun Temple did not appear flustered. Behind the section of earthen wall that had not collapsed, a group of warriors carrying matchlock guns had already finished forming ranks and were checking their weapons.

Hoshina Masateru also rushed out at this moment, bringing several warriors to Zhu Cihuan's side. Seeing Zhu Cihuan standing there like an iron tower, he felt a few more degrees of admiration in his heart — Zhu Cihuan was a big fellow, and standing among a crowd of little dwarf warriors, he was like a crane among chickens!

The enemy must be made to know the Great King's name for valor!

With that thought, Hoshina Masateru grabbed Zhu Cihuan and ran toward the breach, and behind them Zhu Cihuan's "hatamoto" all crowded around the big fellow and ran forward too.

It was Zhu Cihuan's first time on a battlefield, and he was somewhat dazed; in a muddle he was dragged up onto the gentle slope formed by the collapsed earthen wall, and then someone — he did not know who — thrust a long spear into his hand.

What was the meaning of this? Just as Zhu Cihuan was puzzling over it, Hoshina Masateru had already begun shouting in Japanese.

"The Great Ming's foremost warrior, the Great King, is here! Who dares come forth to do battle!"

The hatamoto following Hoshina shouted together as well: "The Great Ming's foremost warrior, the Great King, is here! Who dares come forth to do battle!"

Well now — clearly a foolish king, and now Hoshina had puffed him up into a warrior king! But this foolish king did not understand Japanese and did not know what was happening. Moreover, the Shimazu infantry were still far off, beyond two hundred paces, so Zhu Cihuan was not scared out of his wits — he had been raised on fright, so his nerve was not small; if he were timid, he would never have speculated in stocks until he became an American!

And with this puffery from Hoshina, the morale of the defenders, which had been somewhat low, immediately soared, and they cheered loudly: "Hei-hei-ho! Hei-hei-ho!"

And on the opposite side, the several hundred Shimazu troops advancing in square formation also halted, turning their heads one after another to look back toward their own main camp.

The enemy Regional Commander had come out for a "single combat challenge" — was Her Highness Naoyoshi going to send someone out to meet him?

Shimazu Naoyoshi, for her part, was holding up a telescope and watching, nearly stunned silly, on the verge of drooling.

"Your Highness, please permit me to go forth and take the Ming Great King's head!"

Someone was volunteering for battle!

Naoyoshi had no choice but to lower the telescope and glance at the man. It turned out to be Togo Shigetada, a swordmaster of the Satsuma Jigen-ryu school — an expert at cutting men down, and also skilled with spear and bow. If he were sent to duel Zhu Cihuan, Zhu Cihuan would truly have to get his death poem ready.

Shimazu Naoyoshi of course could not let this Togo go and cut Zhu Cihuan down, and said hurriedly: "Shigetada, that is the Great King of the Ming. What standing do you have to take his head?"

Even a single combat challenge had to observe proper rank and lineage!

Togo Shigetada was no more than a low-ranking warrior — what qualification did he have to duel Zhu Cihuan? Even if he went out, Zhu Cihuan could simply send someone else in his place.

Naoyoshi continued: "Here, only I could answer the challenge in the name of acting head of the Shimazu clan. But I am a mere woman — how could I be a match for the Ming's warrior Great King?"

In truth, Zhu Cihuan knew no martial arts; he was merely big, with a few catties of brute strength. If he really dueled Naoyoshi, he would most likely lose — though Naoyoshi was a woman, she had trained in Satsuma Jigen-ryu swordsmanship under Togo Shigetada.

"Then what do we do now?" Togo asked.

Shimazu Naoyoshi thought for a moment and said: "Order the first company to halt their advance, and send someone to ask the California Commissioner-in-Chief whether he is willing to duel the Great Ming's foremost warrior, the Great King."

She was in fact stalling for time. She was not entirely certain whether Zhu Cihuan had reinforcements behind him. If he did, then perhaps her fateful bond with the warrior king was not yet at an end.

And she also did not wish to throw away what little strength the Shimazu clan had left here at Benxun Temple. If the Ming army truly did come pressing in, the thousand-odd men she had on hand might well prove of great use.

(End of Chapter)