Chapter 169: Don't Come Over — We Really Are Tartars! (Part Ten)

On the south bank of the Wei River, from Dagu Port City all the way to the sea-route docks and then to the Wei River pontoon bridge, gunfire roared and battle cries shook the heavens!

Guan Tang, a mounted trooper in the Han army of the Manchu Plain Yellow Banner, had come from Pi Island. He had followed many commanders, but he simply had no luck with promotion — after all his scrambling about he was still just a common soldier, and his days had always been bitter. After following Geng Zhongming in surrendering to the Manchus and becoming a fake Tartar, things had finally taken a turn for the better. He had taken part in several border-crossing campaigns, gained a good deal of booty, and had even been allotted land in Liaodong. He had taken a wife and had children, and though his life could not compare with that of the great traitors, it still had its own flavor.

This time he had gained the great opportunity of following the dragon into the Pass! He had heard the Prince say that this entry into the Pass was no longer a quick raid before turning back — they were going to seize the Central Plains, put down the roving bandits and the remnant Ming, and from then on the Great Qing would rule all under Heaven!

Traitors like them who followed the Plain Yellow Banner would henceforth be founding heroes of the dynasty, able to share the Great Qing's eternal fortune.

So he, like the other officers and men of the Eight Banners' Han armies, had entered Shanhai Pass with soaring morale. After defeating the roving bandits' old-camp army — the very force that had "destroyed the Great Ming" — at Yi Pian Shi, he had felt a surge of exultation, as if the great deed was finally accomplished and good days were about to arrive.

Every day felt like living inside a beautiful dream!

He had already made his plans: once he became a founding hero, he would no longer live in Liaodong — it was too cold, too desolate, with nothing good to eat and nothing fun to do. He wanted to go to Jiangnan to take up an official post, preferably settling by the Qinhuai River in Nanjing, and take a Qinhuai courtesan as a concubine, so he too could live a few days of the good life of a man above other men.

But now this beautiful dream had suddenly turned into a nightmare — and a damn haunted nightmare at that!

Zhu Yuanzhang, dead for over two hundred years, had damn well reincarnated! And the Ming army, originally too weak to withstand a single blow, had somehow been bewitched by this reborn Zhu Yuanzhang into beating the real Tartars senseless!

The real Manchu Tartars were lying dead all over the ground — how was a fake Tartar like him from the Han army supposed to survive?

He pinched his own cheek hard. It really hurt!

Why won't this nightmare end?

"The Prince has ordered: any man who takes one step back will be executed!"

A company commander directly above him was already hopping about and shrieking.

The military law of the Eight Banners was no joke — if it said behead, then behead it would be! Never mind a mounted trooper like him; even a company commander's head would be cut off if it had to be.

So for now he could only hope to wake quickly from this nightmare while gritting his teeth and drawing a feathered arrow from his quiver to nock on his bow.

A hundred or two hundred paces directly ahead of him, the infantry of the Right Division of the Hard-Struggle New Army, just emerged from Dagu Port City, was forming ranks.

Because Zhu Cilang had concentrated the Hard-Struggle New Army's cavalry and musketeers in the Central Division, the Left and Right Divisions were mainly infantry, with a small amount of cavalry and no muskets or cannon.

And the Hard-Struggle New Army's infantry was built around pikemen — in an eighty-man banner company, pikemen numbered as many as forty. Wu Guoyong had pulled out three brigades in one go, and nearly two thousand pikes formed three square formations, with sword-and-shield men screening the flanks and archers in support. Truly, pikes like a forest, blades and shields like a wall, arrowheads like rain!

The moment the three brigade squares of more than four thousand Ming troops appeared, the fake Tartars under Geng Zhongming went weak in the knees. They were outnumbered! Geng Zhongming had brought only five companies, one of which had mostly drowned in the pontoon-bridge battle, leaving four companies still able to fight. He had used two to steady Duolong's line, while the remaining two kept watch on the direction of Dagu Port City.

Originally that should have been enough — couldn't eight hundred Tartars intimidate six or seven thousand Ming troops?

But now the Ming troops inside Dagu Port City had seen through them as fake Tartars, and they were all coming out to take their heads and claim merit — their Tartar identity might be fake, but they had shaved their heads long ago, so their heads were indistinguishable from real Tartar heads, and worth a fortune!

Seeing four or five thousand Ming troops pour out of the city with terrifying momentum, Guan Tang the mounted trooper was on the verge of tears: Don't come over here — we're Tartars! Fierce, savage Tartars! Aren't you afraid?

Wu Guoyong didn't believe it for a second! How could you possibly be real Tartars? How could real Tartars be that pathetic? Getting thrashed by a bunch of musketeers converted from roving bandits? If they were that pathetic, the Great Qing would have been finished long ago!

At that thought, Wu Guoyong's courage suddenly became inexhaustible, and he shouted his orders: "Pass on this officer's command: today the Crown Prince personally oversees the battle — kill Tartars only, no taking of heads!

Vanguard Brigade, first wave! Left Brigade, second wave! Right Brigade, third wave! Beat the drums — advance!"

Kill the enemy only, no taking of heads — that was the rule of the Hard-Struggle New Army. For the Hard-Struggle New Army was not a force under the jurisdiction of a civil Supreme Commander, but directly under the Great Crown Prince Zhu. And Zhu Cilang was a Crown Prince who could personally come to the front line — he could judge for himself who had merit and who had fault, with no need to count heads. Counting heads was only for when the commander could not be present in battle!

Moreover, the Hard-Struggle New Army had its own independent military-justice system, responsible both for enforcing discipline and for assessing merit.

So the Hard-Struggle New Army did not rely on counting heads to determine merit, which made it easier for them to hold formation.

The drums rumbled, and the three brigades of pikemen advanced in order, pressing toward the defensive line formed by the two companies where Guan Tang stood.

"Shoot! Shoot quickly!"

The company commander's order rang in Guan Tang's ears, and he and the other seven or eight hundred fake Tartars immediately drew their bows and loosed a volley of arrows in a high arc at the Ming pike formations advancing with howling war cries, shooting down fewer than twenty Ming soldiers — no more than a dozen and a half.

At this the Ming troops' morale soared even higher! Because they were now even more certain they were facing fake Tartars — if real Tartars had loosed a volley like that, they'd surely have dropped forty or fifty men, wouldn't they?

You fake Tartars have no martial skill — just wait to die!

"Great Ming — victory! Victory!"

Across the battlefield, cheers suddenly thundered like rolling thunder!

Watching the cheering Ming troops surge forward like a tide, Guan Tang and the other Plain Yellow Banner Han soldiers were so terrified their hands and feet went limp, and they could no longer even shoot their arrows.

How could these possibly be Ming troops? They were clearly fiercer than real Tartars!

Just as every man among them was trembling with fear, a thunderous roar erupted from their left rear. It was another volley from the musketeers of the Central Division's Vanguard Brigade of the Hard-Struggle New Army!

These musketeers had advanced under the arrows loosed by the two companies of Han troops personally commanded by Geng Zhongming, and after paying a price of twenty or thirty casualties they had charged to within about forty paces of those Han troops and fired a volley — the reason they opened fire at forty paces was not that Hao Yaoqi's musketeers feared the bows and dared not come closer, but that Geng Zhongming's men, seeing five or six thousand clearly abnormal Ming troops shouting the slogan "The Great Ancestor, the Exalted Emperor, has returned — victory!" and surging forward in a dark mass, could not hold on their own and were falling back in disorder.

Seeing the "fake Tartars" about to run, Hao Yaoqi had no choice but to sound the gong early and order his musketeers to open fire.

Because the firing distance was rather long, the effect was not ideal — only seventy or eighty men were dropped. But Geng Zhongming's men had already completely collapsed: the real Tartars were all dead on the ground, so what the hell were fake Tartars like them still fighting for? Flee for your lives!

Seeing that Geng Zhongming's side had already broken, why should Guan Tang and the other fake Tartars keep holding out? Saving their skins came first!

Faced with the total collapse of the fake Tartars, even Duolong, the foremost warrior of the Manchus, was helpless. There were now more than ten thousand frenzied Ming troops on the battlefield, plus a Ming Crown Prince who was suspected to be Zhu Yuanzhang reborn. More than three hundred of the true Manchus under his command had been killed or wounded (the death-squad of the first wave had not been completely wiped out — a few had made it back), and the remaining six hundred-odd men were all terrified. What the hell was there left to fight for?

Retreat at once!

So he made no attempt to stop the collapse of the Plain Yellow Banner Han troops, but instead galloped with several armored guards to Geng Zhongming's side and said loudly: "My Prince, it's no use — come away with this officer!"

Geng Zhongming had long been ready to slip away, and was already mounted, surrounded by several dozen personal guards. Hearing Duolong's words, he merely gave a long sigh, clasped his hands, and said: "Commander, this battle at Dagu Port was badly fought — the fault lies entirely with this Prince's poor command. Once back in Yongping, this Prince will go to the Prince Regent and beg for punishment."

Duolong thought: This old fellow does know how to handle himself. Still, this battle was fought too disastrously — I truly have no face to see the Prince Regent!

Just as he was thinking this, several riders in red armor suddenly galloped up to Duolong, and he started at the sight of them. These red-armored riders were the ones Duolong had scattered around the battlefield to keep watch — yet now they came riding up beaming with delight. Could something good have happened?

The battle had already come to this — how could there be any good news?

"Commander, my Prince, our reinforcements have arrived!" one of the red-armored riders said. "About two or three thousand men, all in blue coats with blue banners — they should be the Plain Blue Banner!"

Luoluo has already exploded with twelve updates — does everyone still have monthly tickets to cast? Please!

(End of Chapter)