Chapter 64: Throwing Corpses Into the River

One mistake might be coincidence.

A series of mistakes, however, is hard to explain.

Especially when the culprit behind the tragedy had left the camp ahead of time, further fueling suspicion.

“General Huang, this Captain Zhou claims to be a smuggler from Shandong, yet he speaks without a Shandong accent—his initial defection to us was already suspicious.

But he presented the head of County Magistrate Liu as a token of loyalty, and that blinded everyone, so we never thoroughly checked his identity.

Now it seems clear: this man is almost certainly an impostor from the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

His goal was to infiltrate our camp and deliberately cause chaos!”

Zong Guangtai forced himself to analyze despite his physical discomfort.

Yet when these words reached Huang Renlong’s ears, they took on a different meaning.

If you suspected him, why didn’t you say so sooner?

Who wouldn’t be fooled by a county magistrate’s head as a token of loyalty?

Besides, they knew each other already, and had secretly conducted several salt-smuggling deals together—they were old acquaintances.

It was even he who gave Zhou the nickname “Zhou the Skinflint.”

Had I known Zhou was trouble, I’d have cut his throat long ago—why would I ever play some “buying bones to attract a dragon” trick?

Now look: we didn’t attract any talent, only brought back a pile of corpses.

Soon, Huang Renlong realized: no matter whether Captain Zhou was truly an Embroidered Uniform Guard spy, he must now be treated as one.

Being tricked by the court is better than admitting my own misjudgment in personnel.

“Wang the Pockmarked, spread the word on the roads: I’m offering ten thousand taels for Zhou the Skinflint’s head!”

As soon as Huang Renlong spoke, Zong Guangtai was left speechless.

As commander of the rebel army, commanding tens of thousands of troops, he still clung so tightly to bandit ways.

But these were minor matters; after losing the cannons, the rebel army’s siege firepower had plummeted.

To trade fire with the defenders’ cannons using trebuchets, the rebels would suffer heavily.

When firepower is insufficient on the battlefield, you must fill the gap with lives.

“General, our losses are too great if we keep attacking like this.

Withdraw our elite troops and use the captives we’ve rounded up to drain the defenders’ ammunition.

Only after filling the moat should we launch the main assault.”

Zong Guangtai spoke to himself.

He paid no attention to how dark Huang Renlong’s face had turned when he said “commoners.”

In the rebel army, except for a few gentry, ninety-nine percent were the very “commoners” he despised.

In the past, he was a nobleman looking down from above—no one dared object when he spoke like that.

Now the situation had reversed: all were rebels, none were nobler than the others.

To speak this way now was outright provocation.

“I’ll follow your advice, sir!”

Huang Renlong forced down his resentment.

Now was not the time to break ties; though the Zong family had gradually lost its dominance in the uprising, its influence remained.

The reason so many rebels had gathered was largely due to the Zong family’s leadership.

Without the Zong family’s support, a salt smuggler like me—who had always lived in the shadows—would be unknown to all!

To shed my old skin and transform, I must make my name known.

Taizhou’s influence is too weak; I must seize a major city like Yangzhou to establish sufficient prestige among the rebels.

The more I need to do so, the more I cannot do without the Zong family’s support.

This Zong gentleman is no top strategist, but he is the strongest I can reach.

Along the way, I’ve gathered many scholars, but each one only knows how to quote Confucius and Laozi.

Full of sage teachings, yet when action is needed, they all fall silent.

It’s not that they lack talent—they simply have never encountered rebellion, such an advanced art.

“Dragon-slaying techniques” are not for just anyone to touch.

Great clans keep secret records, but in times of peace, who dares let their sons study them?

Zong Guangtai, with his half-baked knowledge, only learned these things on the fly after raising his banner.

Just look at the siege: the rebels are still in the exploratory phase.

…

“Battalion Commander, there’s been an explosion in the rebel camp—their cannons have gone silent!”

Upon hearing this good news, Li Mu immediately set down his bowl and chopsticks and rushed to the city gate tower.

The surprise came too suddenly.

The rebels’ cannons had not threatened the defenders because they had used them incorrectly.

As defenders, with the rebels lacking armor, explosive shells would inflict maximum damage.

But siege warfare is different: solid shot must be used to strike precise targets to threaten the city.

Presumably provoked, the rebels outside had not treated their cannons as siege weapons, but instead engaged in artillery duels.

You can’t keep stepping in the same pit.

After a few days of dueling, once the enemy realized their mistake, the defenders’ pressure would rise.

Yangzhou’s walls are indeed sturdy, but they were built two hundred years ago, and since then, only maintained.

With peace having lasted so long, local officials had not taken wall maintenance seriously.

Externally, they appeared unchanged; their true defensive strength remained untested.

Through his telescope, Li Mu was startled by the sight of the rebel artillery position.

“Catastrophic losses” could not describe it—the enemy’s artillery position had been completely wiped out.

This could not have been done by our own artillery!

Even if every shell had hit its target, it could not have caused such devastation.

“Master Lan, send someone to report the victory to the Provincial Military Commander.

Say our soldiers fought bloody battles, killed over a thousand enemy troops, and destroyed the enemy’s artillery position!”

Li Mu spoke without changing expression.

What exactly happened in the rebel camp didn’t need investigation—the outcome was good.

Da Yu valued cannons far less than later eras; destroying an enemy artillery position was no great feat.

But for defense, the magnitude of the merit didn't matter—it was crucial to have a victory report to calm the people.

“My lord, perhaps we should polish the victory report.

If the Commander asks, our subordinates will have a better answer.”

Lan Linjie suggested hesitantly.

Falsifying battle reports was nothing new.

Especially in siege warfare, how many enemies were killed was entirely up to frontline commanders.

As long as the city held, and the reported numbers weren’t absurdly exaggerated, the court would turn a blind eye.

“No polishing. Report exactly as I said—not a single word added!”

Li Mu shook his head.

There were too many witnesses; it couldn’t be hidden.

If I take all the credit directly, the other officers will resent it—someone might go to report me.

Vagueness, however, is utterly bulletproof.

If no one knows who did it, when the court verifies the merits, the credit will still fall to me as the defending commander.

As the two spoke, the rebels drove villagers forward as cannon fodder, launching a human wave assault.

Carts of dirt were continuously dumped into the moat, steadily narrowing its surface.

“Stop wasting time collecting corpses—throw the bodies straight into the river! Hurry to fill the riverbed!”

Even this pace of filling the moat failed to satisfy the rebel commanders, who issued the cruel order: “Throw corpses into the river!”

The worst were the wounded: still alive, yet rendered immobile, they were thrown into the river anyway.

The captured villagers dared not protest.

(End of Chapter)