Chapter 270: Panic and Confusion

The capital.

Though the edict summoning reinforcements had been sent out, Emperor Emperor Yongning's heart remained unsettled.

The northern barbarians' advance was far faster than anticipated. It was barely December, yet the enemy had already besieged the capital.

Such a grand crisis—no less than the young emperor could bear, and even the veteran ministers in court were thoroughly terrified.

Perhaps because their own lives were at stake, or perhaps truly frightened, the ministers who had been locked in constant infighting finally fell silent.

The military aristocracy temporarily assumed control of the capital's defenses; the civil officials, while still giving orders and meddling, did not directly seize power.

All of this was forced by circumstance; everyone knew that as soon as the capital's situation eased, another round of internal strife would erupt.

"Your Majesty, armies from all regions are urgently preparing to come to the capital's aid. We expect reinforcements to begin arriving in the spring."

Wan Wan Yuxuan, Minister of War, stepped forward to report.

From a distance perspective, the fastest reinforcements to reach the capital would naturally come from Tianjin, Three Xuan-Da, and Shandong.

Next would be the armies of Shanxi, then those of Shaanxi and Henan, along with the garrison troops at Shanhaiguan.

But all this was merely theoretical—the enemy had advanced from Three Xuan-Da, where the local troops had already been shattered.

Only a few lucky survivors had retreated into walled cities, barely escaping destruction.

Tianjin, Shandong, Shanxi—all were now targets of the steppe alliance's raids; local garrisons could barely defend themselves.

Henan's troops had been dispatched to Huguang and were now busy reclaiming Wuchang, locked in months of fierce battle.

To defend the capital, the court had already stripped the Capital Garrison of its troops, and now withdrew Henan's forces—Grand Secretary Xu would surely go mad.

Shaanxi's situation was much the same: its main forces had gradually moved into Sichuan, fighting desperately to protect the rear granaries from rebel forces.

Across the northern lands, the only force capable of being mobilized and still battle-worthy was Liaozhen.

Unfortunately, Liaozhen was not easily obedient.

As the strongest military garrison of the Great Dayu Dynasty, Liaozhen was the only unit capable of standing toe-to-toe with northern barbarian cavalry on the battlefield.

With northern reinforcements out of reach, hope now turned to the south.

The White Lotus Rebellion had spread too widely; only five southern provinces remained untouched by rebel threats.

Guizhou's troops were dismissed outright—during the earlier campaign against the pretender emperor, they had lost their last viable soldiers.

With limited finances, they had no chance of recovery in the short term.

Yunnan's situation was only slightly better. Even if they strained every last resource, they could barely muster one or two ten thousand troops.

In truth, even this remained theoretical.

As an inland province, Yunnan lay thousands of miles from the capital; by the time they arrived, it would take nearly half a year.

Given Yunnan's meager finances, it could not supply adequate logistical support for such a force—this reinforcement would be a catastrophe.

The only provinces truly capable of fielding troops were Guangdong, Among Guangxi, and Fujian.

Yet these reinforcements were also too distant to arrive in time—impossible to rely on in the short term.

The only forces capable of arriving fastest were the four battalions of the Capital Garrison that had been deployed outside the capital. But this small force was clearly no match for the northern barbarians.

To truly stop the enemy, only by concentrating the Capital Garrison, Liaozhen, the Guangdong-Among Guangxi-Fujian reinforcements, and scattered allied troops could victory be possible.

"Wait! Wait! Wait!

All you know is to tell me to wait!

Even if I can afford to wait, the people outside cannot.

The steppe alliance, joined by the Gui Fang, is devastatingly plundering Great Dayu.

If the court does nothing, how will the realm view me?"

Emperor Emperor Yongning demanded angrily.

Under the pressure of the steppe alliance's siege, he had personally led his ministers to the Imperial Ancestral Temple to confess his sins.

If he failed to erase this humiliation, future histories would surely heap scorn upon him.

Forcing historians to alter records was useless—there were far too many commoners who loved recording history.

The steppe alliance invaded, besieged the capital, and plundered the land without restraint.

Even without embellishment, just this single fact alone would condemn Emperor Emperor Yongning as incompetent and foolish.

"Your Majesty, calm yourself!"

"Your Majesty, calm yourself!"

…

The ministers' response only made Emperor Emperor Yongning angrier. He wanted solutions, not a chorus telling him to calm down.

But reality was too cruel: after the only viable strategy—switching the theater of war—had been rejected, Great Dayu now truly lacked the capacity to launch any counteroffensive.

The emperor did not wish to bear the blame, and the ministers equally refused to shoulder it. To expect anyone to step forward and take responsibility was impossible.

Those who survived in court were all masters of shifting blame; everyone cherished their reputations, both in life and after death.

They sought every way to shed their own responsibilities, let alone volunteer to bear the emperor's burden.

Of course, even if someone wished to show initiative, they could not shoulder such a colossal responsibility.

"Worthless!"

"All of you are worthless!"

"With so many ministers here, is there truly no one who can ease my worries?"

Facing the enraged emperor, the ministers lowered their heads in unison.

No matter how clever they were, they could not make soup without rice.

Before reinforcements arrived, any military maneuver was merely an error.

…

Yangzhou Prefecture.

After seeing off the Capital Garrison, Pei Pei Yunxuan nearly collapsed to the ground.

He had expected Guangdong and Among Guangxi's reinforcements to arrive soon, dreaming of reclaiming lost territory and becoming Great Dayu's savior.

He never imagined that on the very day of the army's departure ceremony, an imperial decree had abruptly canceled it.

Losing reinforcements was bad enough—but misfortune never came alone: the capital's troops were now recalled to defend the capital.

"Your Excellency, disaster!

Shandong's troops left behind a letter and immediately marched away—their camp is now empty.

Lord Zhou has sent men to pursue them, but…"

"I know. Say no more."

Before his personal guard could finish, Pei Pei Yunxuan waved him silent.

As guest troops, Shandong's soldiers had endured until now before withdrawing—that was already more courtesy than deserved.

Less considerate forces would have fled home the moment their homeland was threatened.

Though Emperor Emperor Yongning had personally decreed that troops engaged in suppressing the White Lotus Rebellion need not join this expedition,

everyone knew it was empty words. They were guest troops; when their own homes were endangered, they would naturally prioritize their own lands.

As for the crisis in Jiangnan, they were merely helpers—no obligation to bear responsibility for the deteriorating situation.

"Your Excellency, the plan to retake Anqing has collapsed. The rebels will now exploit our weakened forces to expand their territory.

Prepare immediately for the defense of Yangzhou!

The court has already lost Jiujiang, Anqing, and three-quarters of Jiangnan; Nanchang, Hangzhou, and Nanjing are now on the brink. Yangzhou must not fall.

Ancient wisdom says: to defend the Yangtze, you must first defend the Two Huai.

If we hold the Two Huai region, the court retains strategic initiative for future counteroffensives.

If we lose the Two Huai, the rebels will truly become a separatist regime, using the Yangtze as a natural barrier against northern attacks.

The cost to reclaim lost lands afterward will rise exponentially!"

Gu You said solemnly.

The worst possible scenario had arrived—even Zhuge Kongming reborn could not save Jiangnan.

Under these circumstances, as Prefect of Yangzhou, he had to consider his own escape.

Let others perish, not me.

To spur Pei Pei Yunxuan into committing his last armed forces to Yangzhou's defense, he kept hammering home Yangzhou's critical importance.

"Do as you please!

I'm exhausted. I need to rest."

Pei Pei Yunxuan waved them off.

Unable to find a solution, he simply gave up.

Drink today's wine, enjoy today's life—live one day at a time.

He accepted that the court would punish him later.

He would spend his remaining years enjoying life, and thus not waste his existence.

…

Guangzhou Prefecture.

Li Mu had exhausted himself gathering cotton.

Cotton cultivation had spread throughout Great Dayu, but its main growing regions remained the Yangtze and Yellow River basins.

Though Yunnan, Guizhou, Guangdong, Among Guangxi, and Fujian also grew cotton, their scale was far smaller.

Each harvest was swiftly purchased and sent to workshops for processing.

Before the war, Songjiang Prefecture had been the world's largest cotton textile center.

In the past, purchasing cotton coats simply required sending someone to Songjiang Prefecture; producing tens of thousands of sets within a month was no problem at all.

Now it's impossible—Songjiang Prefecture fell into rebel hands two months ago.

In fact, even if Songjiang Prefecture hadn't fallen, there still wouldn't have been enough raw materials for processing and production.

To secure sufficient cotton coats and quilts, Li Mu had no choice but to send messengers to place orders with workshops in Guangdong, Among Guangxi, Fujian, Shandong, and other regions.

As the number of suppliers increased, quality control became more difficult. Worse still, even with money, it was impossible to buy enough goods in such a short time.

Forced to act, Li Mu could only reduce the number of orders.

The original plan of two coats per soldier was halved; the intended one quilt per soldier was now reserved solely for frontline troops.

The northern land in winter was barren and bare—especially near the capital, where not a few trees could be found within a hundred li.

Relying on local resources, the army's vast numbers would never have enough firewood.

As a morally upright commander, he could not allow soldiers to plunder.

To solve the soldiers' heating problem, charcoal supplies were added to the logistical provisions.

Considering the enormous consumption, and fearing charcoal production might not keep up, stone coal quotas were also increased.

In northern winter campaigns, frozen buns could be used as weapons. Forcing soldiers to eat dried rations for long periods would cause staggering non-combat losses—even if they didn't mutiny.

Fire alone wasn't enough; cooking pots were needed too. Though the army already had some, they still appeared again on the procurement list.

All provisions had to account for the soldiers' dietary habits: beyond daily rice and meat, Li Mu raised the rations of sugar and salt by thirty percent.

After all these adjustments, the original logistical supply list was utterly transformed by Li Mu.

…

(End of Chapter)