Chapter 212: Section Twenty-Nine: A Turning Point

In the history of Huang Shi's previous life, Lu Zhijia did indeed set out with a large-scale force — a force that had never experienced the fires of war and had not yet been on the battlefield. In that history, Ma Shilong truly believed that Yaozhou held only one niru of banner levies, women, and children. The difference between that history and the present is that historically Ma Shilong launched the campaign on the twenty-second day of the ninth month, whereas this time it was moved up to the twelfth.

In Huang Shi's previous life, Ma Shilong misjudged the troop strength at Yaozhou. There were not only one niru of unarmored banner levies, women, and children, but also a full hundred combat soldiers under the niru ejen Tunbulu! When Tunbulu heard that Lu Zhijia intended to attack Yaozhou, he set an ambush along both sides of the official road that very night. When the Ming army arrived after nightfall, Tunbulu had the unarmored troops, women, and elderly inside the city light torches and beat gongs and drums. Bewildered and uncertain, Lu Zhijia and Li Chengxian kept the Ming army standing outside the city for half the night, not daring to attack, and decided to wait for daylight to see the situation clearly.

After waiting until the Ming troops and horses were exhausted, Tunbulu suddenly burst out from both sides of the official road with one niru of combat soldiers. In the darkness, the Ming army could not tell how many enemy troops there were, and the great army collapsed in chaos. Lu Zhijia and Li Chengxian were swept up by the routed troops and fled back to Sanchahe, but upon reaching the river they discovered that the Guanning Army's Iron Cavalry Battalion, which had fled across the river ahead of them, had torn apart the pontoon bridge to guard against a Later Jin pursuit. Ming officers and soldiers scrambled to jump into the river, and those who drowned because they could not swim nearly filled the Liaohe.

In the panic, Lu Zhijia and Li Chengxian could not find any boats to cross the river, so both were successively overtaken and killed by Tunbulu. In this battle, Tunbulu routed an entire Ming brigade with just one niru of troops — one hundred soldiers took over four hundred heads. Among the dead were a Vice Regional Commander and an Assistant Regional Commander, and they captured seven hundred suits of iron armor, over six hundred warhorses, and countless quantities of baggage and weapons. Nurhaci personally came forty li outside the city to welcome Tunbulu, and slaughtered cattle and sheep to thank the spirits for granting this "epic" victory.

The Liaoxi Grand Commander Ma Shilong gave three explanations for this: first, he had mistakenly believed the words of fugitives — if he had been told beforehand that Yaozhou held a fully manned and fully equipped niru, he might have considered the issue of sending troops more carefully. Second, Ma Shilong believed the primary fault lay with Lu Zhijia. If the Guanning Army had attacked Yaozhou in daylight — four battalions with seven thousand combat soldiers against one niru of one hundred — then they probably could have won. Finally, the third point: Ma Shilong pointed out that if the cavalry, when fleeing, had not torn apart the Sanchahe pontoon bridge, so many people would not have died in the first place.

However, these explanations from Grand Commander Ma were not accepted by the harsh and ungrateful Tianqi Emperor. Although in Huang Shi's previous life, Tianqi had developed a patient psychological disposition from constantly seeing no reports of victory, he still could not fathom how a brigade could possibly be defeated by a single niru.

In this time and space that Huang Shi has arrived in, the Tianqi Emperor, having seen some military victories, had become unwilling to tolerate defeat. And that niru of Tunbulu's, having suffered heavy losses at the hands of the Ming army during the Fuzhou campaign, had already followed Daišan back to central Liao to rest. However... this time Yaozhou also held more than just banner levies, women, and the elderly...

Thirteenth day of the ninth month, fifth year of the Tianqi reign. Yaozhou.

A column of troops trudged listlessly to the fort gate, led by none other than Manggūltai, one arm still hanging in a sling. He had just received a secret letter saying that Liu Xingzuo at the right garrison of Gaizhou had stabilized after hearing that Huang Shi had gone to the capital. After some thought, Liu Xingzuo felt it was better to wait and see how the wind blew, so the worry that Manggūltai had been carrying for nearly two months could finally be set aside.

He could not take action to kill Liu Xingzuo — at least not yet. So Manggūltai had always harbored the idea of gaining mastery by striking only after the opponent had moved, hoping the Han troops would not grow suspicious. Once he confirmed that the situation was as he wished, Manggūltai immediately relaxed. He left behind five relatively intact niru and half the unarmored troops to continue guarding against Gaizhou, and himself led the remaining sixteen niru of battered troops back to central Liao to recuperate.

Recently, Manggūltai had been utterly exhausted in body and mind. His face was already very haggard, and even some white hairs had appeared. While passing through Yaozhou, Manggūltai's personal guards spotted quite a few elk in the nearby woods. When he heard this, he stared blankly for a long while, and finally gave a bitter laugh: "Then we shall rest at Yaozhou for a day. Tomorrow we will go hunt deer. Ah, it has been so, so long since I last hunted. I truly miss it."

Manggūltai's bodyguards, seeing the long-absent smile on their master's face, secretly felt a pang of sorrow. Though it was a bitter smile, it was still a rare smile after the Fuzhou campaign. As they led Manggūltai's horse toward Yaozhou for the night, they secretly divided up tasks among themselves — to scour the surrounding area for wine, preparing to let Manggūltai thoroughly enjoy himself the next day.

Huang Shi, still idling about in Beijing today, decided to visit Mao Chengdou's home again. Ever since Mao Wenlong established his garrison, Mao Chengdou, as Mao Wenlong's eldest son by his principal wife, had lived with his mother in the capital. Huang Shi's personal impression of Mao Chengdou had always been quite good, and after arriving in the capital, Huang Shi had also gone to pay his respects to Mao Chengdou. Mao Chengdou, for his part, wholeheartedly believed he would inherit his father's hereditary rank of General Who Pacifies Liao, and so was very courteous toward a senior general like Huang Shi. After all, he felt that, looking at it from a distance, the Mao and Huang families would need to support each other for generations to come, and from up close, Huang Shi was his father's right-hand man.

Mao Wenlong's wife was someone he married after returning to his hometown of Hangzhou once he had risen to prominence, so Mao Chengdou was now only twenty-two years old. Living permanently in the capital made him appear still boyish and inexperienced. But every time Huang Shi came to visit him, Mao Chengdou would always invite him to stay for a meal, and would also present a red envelope when Huang Shi departed — the so-called ceremonial gift. Though each red envelope contained only five taels of silver, it was an important formality between superiors and subordinates in the late Ming.

In Huang Shi's previous life, most of Mao Wenlong's clansmen died in the war. By the time of the disastrous defeat at Tieshan, Mao Wenlong had already lost over three hundred clansmen in service to the nation, and as a result, Mao Chengdou in Beijing became Mao Wenlong's sole surviving son. After Mao Wenlong's death (the loss at Tieshan was also one of the charges Yuan Chonghuan used to execute Mao Wenlong), Mao Chengdou remained in the capital to plead for justice for his father and his fallen brothers and clansmen. Later, when the Manchu Qing entered the pass, Mao Chengdou fled back to his hometown of Hangzhou.

After the Hongguang regime collapsed, Mao Chengdou let his hair down and withdrew into the mountains to live as a wild man. By then, Kong Youde and other former Dongjiang subordinates had already been enfeoffed as three princes and one marquis. They sent soldiers to search the mountains and found Mao Chengdou. One after another, these men urged Mao Chengdou to come with them and share in their wealth and rank, but Mao Chengdou said without hesitation: "I fear it would betray the will of the late general (who pacified Liao and swept away the invaders)." Historical records state that Mao Chengdou thereafter vanished without a trace.

After Huang Shi presented his name card at the Mao residence, the main gate was soon thrown wide open. Mao Chengdou, as usual, personally came out to welcome Huang Shi.

"Young Marshal, are you well?"

"General Huang, are you well?"

Every time he saw Mao Chengdou, who seemed every bit the frail scholar, Huang Shi secretly sighed — how could such a person become a qualified frontier general? He thought that if he himself married and had children, and if the Later Jin had still not been eliminated by then, his own principal wife and eldest son by her would also have to reside in the capital. Then the next Regional Military Commissioner of Liaodong might assume the post having never seen war at all.

Just as he stepped over the high threshold of Mao Chengdou's home, Huang Shi saw there was still another person standing there waiting for him. That person was around twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, about the same age as Huang Shi. Dressed entirely in a blue scholar's robe and cap, he cupped his hands in salute upon seeing Huang Shi: "General Huang."

Huang Shi hurriedly returned the salute. Seeing the natural grace and poise of the person before him, he knew the other party was most likely also from an official family. Combined with this blue attire, Huang Shi guessed the visitor was a child of an official household who had not yet passed the examinations. Precisely because someone in the family held office, they needed to strictly observe the proprieties. Such a son dared not dress in the gaudy colors common folk wore, lest the censors impeach his family for lax discipline in raising their children. By the late Ming, all the people Huang Shi met who placed importance on sumptuary dress codes were, without exception, degree-holding scholars and the sons of officials. The commoners and merchants of this era, by contrast, observed no such taboos.

As Huang Shi returned the salute, he asked respectfully: "May I ask your honorable surname and courtesy name?" Although the other party was still a commoner without rank, since his family likely included officials, Huang Shi dared not be anything but cautious.

"My humble surname is Sun, and my insignificant given name is Zhijie." The young man's tone and expression were both exceedingly polite.

"Young Master Sun." Huang Shi addressed him with a courteous title. He still did not know what august personage the other party might be.

Sun Zhijie seemed to perceive Huang Shi's puzzlement. A proud expression flickered across his face, though his tone remained as understated as before: "My grandfather once mentioned General Huang in my presence." Sun Zhijie paused again: "My grandfather is the Grand Secretary of the Wenyuan Pavilion, Minister of War, and Grand Coordinator of Liaodong..."

Fourteenth day of the ninth month, fifth year of the Tianqi reign. Yaozhou.

Manggūltai, his face full of worry and haggardness, assembled his subordinate officers for a briefing. Just as he was about to go hunting, he had received word that a large Ming army had reached Sanchahe. Now he looked as if he had aged another ten years in an instant; the vitality of former days seemed to have left his body. Manggūltai's movements, expression, and tone of voice already made him seem entirely like an old man.

"This beile has already sent men to Gaizhou to evacuate the women and children. What we must do now is defend Yaozhou to the death. Otherwise, the elderly, children, and women of our Plain Blue Banner will all fall into Ming hands." Manggūltai slowly shook his head. He estimated that once Yaozhou fell, Liu Xingzuo would rise in revolt, and given the Plain Blue Banner's current state, it absolutely could not withstand a two-pronged attack by superior Ming forces. As he spoke, his eyes filled with sorrow: "Can you imagine what the Ming army would do to our clansmen? Can you imagine such a thing happening?"

Manggūltai waved his arm sluggishly. Beneath the thick weariness on his face, a trace of resolve flickered faintly: "We must defend Yaozhou to the death. So that the banner levies at Gaizhou can withdraw to Liaoyang. Let us die here." Manggūltai called out: "Let us die right here."

At this moment, Lu Zhijia beside the Sanchahe had already grown impatient. Both naval battalions possessed countless large ships, and each large ship had many smaller boats tethered to it. Sun Chengzong had theoretically allocated a thousand boats to each battalion. But Li Chengxian had waited from early morning until noon, and even after Lu Zhijia's main force arrived, he still had not seen the shadow of a single boat.

They did not know that Zhou Shoulian of the Iron Cavalry Battalion had secretly conferred with Yao and Jin. They planned to use this campaign to teach Lu Zhijia and Li Chengxian a lesson, to stop them from strutting around so arrogantly all day, thinking that clinging tightly to Ma Shilong's stout leg meant they could act without any scruples.

They waited until the sun was nearly setting before Lu Zhijia finally got seven fishing boats. The naval officer leading them, disregarding the armor he wore, still performed a full set of grand salutes: "Reporting to my lord Lu, the naval battalion's ships could not sail over, so my lord Jin ordered your humble subordinate to scour up these seven fishing boats and deliver them."

"Why could they not sail over?" Lu Zhijia grew anxious the moment he heard this, his eyes bulging wide.

"In reply to my lord Lu, our large ships are too big, and the water of this Liaohe is too shallow. Moreover, the naval battalion does not know the timing of the tides. If the large ships sailed over, there is a risk they might run aground." That naval officer spoke with an air of righteous conviction.

Lu Zhijia, beard bristling and eyes glaring, demanded: "And the small boats? Isn't every large ship tethered with several dozen small boats?"

That naval officer replied unhurriedly: "In reply to my lord Lu, the small boats are too small. If they leave the large ships, they will likely be blown away by the sea waves. The wind and waves at sea today are truly far too great."

Lu Zhijia was left momentarily speechless and dumbfounded. In the end, he waved his hand wildly to dismiss the man, then directed the soldiers to use the fishing boats to cross the river and establish a bridgehead, while simultaneously ordering over ten thousand auxiliary troops to set out and fell trees to build a pontoon bridge.

In the darkness of night, Yaozhou was still ablaze with lamps and torches. Manggūltai sat in a chair, fully armored, his expression dark as he drank wine from a small cup. He had his large iron shield firmly strapped to his left upper arm. Manggūltai glanced at his left forearm, still tightly bound and immobilized, and could not help but sigh again.

"Master, you should rest a while." A bondservant of the Plain Blue Banner finally could not bear the silence and spoke up. He had watched his banner lord maintain this state from early morning until nightfall, and then from early night until just before dawn: "Daylight will come soon. Master, please, at least rest a little while."

Manggūltai gave a bitter laugh: "Rest? I will soon have all the time in the world to rest." With that, he drank another small cup of wine and murmured to himself: "The pontoon bridge will be finished very soon. The Ming army will cross the river this morning. Twenty thousand troops — but I will still go and fight to the death to resist them, to do battle!"

Noon on the fifteenth.

After a night and a morning of forced crossing, a batch of cannons had been transported over, and Li Chengxian had also crossed the river with a group of combat soldiers. But the pontoon bridge was still far from completion — to be precise, the Ming army had not even finished gathering the timber to build it. Lu Zhijia looked gloomily at the sky, and had no choice but to intensify his urging of those seven fishing boats to ferry troops back and forth. But the cannons were dead weight, impossibly heavy, and the auxiliary troops were all originally farming military households freshly conscripted from the fields. They fumbled and scrambled and simply could not move quickly...

Manggūltai was asleep, leaning against the back of his chair. A Heavy Armor Soldier of the Plain Blue Banner tiptoed over and draped a cloak over him. Unexpectedly, this slight movement instantly startled Manggūltai awake. "The Ming army has come." The moment he awoke, Manggūltai sprang three feet into the air. His eyes bulging wide, he roared furiously: "Kill! Follow me!"

"Master. Master." The several Heavy Armor Soldiers around him surged forward and held onto Manggūltai, whose mind was still not entirely clear. "Master, the Ming army has not finished repairing the pontoon bridge yet. Don't be anxious. Sleep a while longer."

Today, just after Huang Shi had finished lunch, a retainer from the Mao household delivered a letter to the post station. Huang Shi tore it open and saw that it was Mao Chengdou inviting him to go on an autumn outing tomorrow, and also saying that Sun Zhijie had been invited as well. A banquet would be set up at a pavilion in the outskirts of the capital. Once Huang Shi had clarified the location of that pavilion, he tipped the messenger a few small coins and sent him back to tell Mao Chengdou that he would certainly arrive early.

The sixteenth.

Lu Zhijia was still busily organizing the river crossing. Li Chengxian had set up a tent on the opposite bank and was resting. Today, even worse news came from the sea: the naval battalion, citing heavy wind and waves, had already returned to Ningyuan. Lu Zhijia made a prompt decision and detained all the naval battalion's land combat troops, while intensifying his urging of the soldiers to fell trees, striving to get the pontoon bridge set up quickly.

At noon, Manggūltai in Yaozhou was taking a midday nap. His armor had been loosened considerably, letting his chest, which had been confined for two days, breathe a little. When the scout entered, Manggūltai grunted: "The Ming army's pontoon bridge... presumably still not finished?" The five relatively intact niru from Gaizhou had already arrived. Relieved, Manggūltai had ordered them to seize the time to rest.

"The master is wise."

After that scout finished his report, Manggūltai said lazily: "Understood. Go down and drink wine and eat meat." Back when Nurhaci crossed the Sanchahe, he had erected large numbers of pontoon bridges in a single night, and sixty thousand troops had crossed the Liaohe within five two-hour periods. This time at Fuzhou, Huang Shi's twenty thousand troops had crossed the Shahe in less than two two-hour periods. Manggūltai recalled past events and muttered: "These are all Ming armies — how can the gap be so huge?"

Seventeenth day of the ninth month, fifth year of the Tianqi reign. Afternoon. Sanchahe estuary.

In the history of Huang Shi's previous life, Lu Zhijia had struggled from the twenty-fourth of the ninth month until the twenty-seventh without ever finishing the pontoon bridge. This time, he had toiled bitterly from the fourteenth of the ninth month until the seventeenth, and still had not managed to set it up. Lu Zhijia looked at the timber that had finally been gathered and at last made an important decision: "I will cross the river by boat. You men finish the pontoon bridge tonight, and have the Iron Cavalry Battalion follow before daybreak. I have already slept in the open fields for three nights — tonight I absolutely must go to Yaozhou to rest."

It was just a bunch of old men, children, and women, wasn't it? At most, there were also two hundred banner levies without even armor. Lu Zhijia still believed there was no problem.

This afternoon, Manggūltai had taken a few Heavy Armor Soldiers into the woods to hunt. When the messenger ran in, Manggūltai was eating scalding hot roasted venison with great clamor and excitement. His left arm was once again firmly suspended from his neck, and his armor had been removed and tossed aside. Upon hearing the messenger's report, Manggūltai, without even raising his head, vetoed his officers' plan for a night raid. He felt that fighting at night, though it could bluff and create a false impression of strength, would greatly reduce the head count and spoils: "Send men to lay false trails and deceptive formations. Let those gutless rats drink another night of cold wind outside."

Manggūltai ate until his mouth was slick with grease. Without raising his head, he gulped down his food whole, his mouth stuffed full of venison, shouting indistinctly: "Tonight we eat and drink our fill, then have a good, sound sleep. Tomorrow morning we slaughter those fat pigs."