Chapter 241: Section Fifty-Six: Flank Attack

The gun emplacements on the sloped flanks of the bastion were the most fiercely contested zones for both attackers and defenders, and the trenches outside each emplacement held more corpses than anywhere else. The recoil of the cannons prevented them from being placed on the walls, so the semicircular parapet of the gun emplacement where it met the bastion’s flank wall could not exceed one meter in height, and the trench dug outside the small semicircular bastion was less than two meters deep. These factors made the emplacement walls relatively low, so more Later Jin soldiers attempted to climb into the Ming army’s bastion from here.

For the defenders, the small platform of the gun emplacement jutting out from the bastion’s edge could also be put to good use; it could eliminate dead angles in the bastion’s field of fire. The small semicircular platform projecting from the bastion’s edge could accommodate a few arquebusiers. The platform beneath their feet hung suspended over the trench and extended only a few meters, so it did not obstruct the field of fire of the fifty-meter-long horizontal parapet.

The several pikemen guarding the cannon beside the gun emplacement, each clad in heavy armor, stood behind the cannon making defensive preparations; quite a few arrows littered their armor and the ground at their feet. One or two arquebusiers crouched beside the cannon, firing downward. In this battle, many Later Jin soldiers used their comrades as stepping stones to climb onto the gun emplacement’s parapet, attempting to disrupt the Ming cannon fire. But these attempts were all thwarted by the pikemen protecting the gun crew. The pikemen guarding the gun emplacement, holding the high ground, stabbed down every Later Jin soldier who clambered onto the wall. The eight cannons on Changsheng Island never ceased their thunder from beginning to end.

Arquebus Squad Commander Yang Yifan knelt on one knee beside the cannon wheel, bracing his arquebus fork steadily on the semicircular platform. With one hand holding the fork and the other supporting the arquebus, he searched for a target. Several listless arrows hung from Squad Commander Yang’s armor, and a few throwing knives and flying swords lay at his feet. Yet none of these had managed to harm him. The most dangerous blow he encountered today was a heavy javelin hurled at him; it grazed Squad Commander Yang’s helmet and flew past, impaling an artillery loader behind him.

By now the morale of the Later Jin army had begun to crumble, but even at this moment, some still attempted to climb up the gun emplacement wall. Squad Commander Yang completed another shot, turned, and took a reloaded arquebus. Carefully clamping the match cord, he saw another pair of hands grasp the wall’s edge. Then, between those hands, a human head appeared above that section of the emplacement wall.

No need to trouble the pikemen. Squad Commander Yang lightly swung the arquebus in his hands, and the heavy hardwood stock traced a wide arc, smashing into the right lower jaw of that man. Amid a sickening crunch of shattering bone, the jaw of that head was caved in raw. As the head vanished behind the emplacement wall, a spray of bloody froth and several shattered teeth burst into the air.

Squad Commander Yang fired again. Just as he turned to exchange weapons, he saw another pair of hands appear at the emplacement wall. He passed the arquebus backward with his left hand alone, while his right hand casually picked up a broad-bladed flying sword from the ground. Squad Commander Yang gripped the hilt in a reverse hold, bent his arm, and aimed the sword tip between the two hands. The moment the man’s eyes appeared above the wall, he thrust viciously in…

As the Later Jin army’s central battle line faced the predicament of retreat, Aobai was still cautiously crouching low, advancing behind the rocks. With him were thirty brave Later Jin warriors. These men had been handpicked to launch a surprise attack on the Changsheng Army’s flank and rear.

Huang Taiji had given the commanding Zhangjing a very clear order: while the Ming army’s attention was drawn to the center, he was to lead this small squad around the dangerous edge of the ice layer and stealthily advance onto the Guanning Army’s position on the Changsheng Army’s flank. They also needed to kill and scatter the defenders over a stretch of distance and create as much chaos as possible. Each of these thirty men also carried a banner on his back, prepared to create a show of force and guide the follow-up troops’ attack.

That Zhangjing accomplished this successfully. Using the battlefield’s gunpowder smoke and the undulating coastal terrain, he led these fifty men, including Aobai, in staggered advances, undetected, infiltrating deep into the Ming army’s rear flank. In the past, a few dozen Later Jin men could chase large formations of Ming troops. Although this rule did not apply to the Changsheng Army, it still held true for the Guanning Army — of this, Huang Taiji was very confident.

The Zhangjing hid behind a rock, cautiously peering at the movements atop the cliff, directing his men to creep forward one by one. Having fewer men had its advantages; the Ming troops above never detected this small band, their attention entirely drawn away by the fierce fighting in the center.

As enduring as a jackal, Aobai panted in small breaths. Pressing against the crevices in the rock, he inched his way to the base of the cliff, without the slightest tension or haste, for he knew that a surprise attack was the one thing that could least afford to be rushed. Slowly, slowly. One after another, the Later Jin squad slipped up onto the Ming army’s defense line.

Aobai lay prone on the ground, watching the Ming soldiers in the distance. Every one of them was craning their necks toward the direction of the roaring guns and cannons; no one had yet noticed the movements of his squad. How quiet it was atop the cliff. In the lulls between the distant gunfire, even the low murmurs of the Ming soldiers could be heard clearly. Aobai mimicked the lead Zhangjing’s manner, inhaling in even slower rhythm, listening intently to the thumping of his own heart.

Only… although their movements were as light as possible, after twenty men had come up, someone finally knocked against an unstable rock. The rock tumbled down the cliff, producing a series of thudding collision sounds. Though not very loud, in the stillness of this cliff, it was no different from a clap of thunder. The Ming soldiers in the distance all turned their heads in shock, looking this way…

“Kill!” The Zhangjing, pressed close to the ground, sprang up. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a throwing knife flying. As he charged toward the Ming soldiers, the Zhangjing had already drawn his long blade, roaring as he swung it in a full moon arc.

…

At this moment, before the defense line of the Changsheng Island officers and men, the Later Jin army’s rout had become irreversible. Duolonga hugged his head, lying on the ground. Incoming bullets struck the corpses beside him, bursting into sprays of blood. A comrade in front of him had eyes filled with mad light; saliva dripped from his mouth as he frantically clawed at the frozen earth with both hands. His ten fingers were already worn raw, yet he seemed utterly oblivious, futilely trying to dig a foxhole in this winter-hardened ground.

The Ming arquebusiers fired downward without a moment’s pause. The bastion’s interlocking fire net turned the wide open ground and trenches in the middle into a hell for the Later Jin army. The arquebusiers lay prone on the completely safe parapet, watching the Later Jin soldiers below scurry like rats, chaotically burrowing and charging through the trenches, then shooting them dead in the ditches like rats.

Seizing a gap in the fire, Duolonga abruptly raised his head to glance at the surrounding scene, then pressed himself tightly to the ground again, racking his brains for a plan. The friendly troops around him were all struggling to retreat. To stay here and not run — even if he wasn’t killed by a bullet, he would be hunted down and killed by the Ming troops. Death was certain either way. Then he must risk any danger and gamble on it; he absolutely had to leave.

“Calm down, calm down.” Duolonga repeatedly warned himself not to act rashly, to seize the opportunity well. The fear in his heart swelled higher and higher. Several times he nearly threw caution to the wind, jumped up, and bolted. But he suppressed this impulse. He swallowed a large mouthful of saliva and waited for a better chance.

The cannon fire thundered incessantly. Duolonga counted the numbers three times over, and after basically confirming the interval of the Ming cannons, he crawled on the spot toward the edge of the trench. When he had raised his head earlier, he had already seen how the Ming troops slaughtered his comrades running across the passageway. After crawling to the edge of the trench, Duolonga listened carefully to the cannon fire behind him, quietly counting the numbers under his breath, comparing them with the numbers he had memorized.

After hearing two cannon shots in succession…

“Now!”

Duolonga sprang up. After rushing out of the trench, he ran in a wildly zigzagging diagonal line while loudly counting the numbers. Dust kept kicking up in front of and to the sides of his body. Duolonga continued running forward, rhythmically reciting the count. The moment the last number left his lips, Duolonga dove forward like a fish toward the low wall. Just as he landed heavily in the trench before the low wall, the roar of cannons erupted almost simultaneously behind him. In the blink of an eye, wails rose from all around him.

“Safe.” Duolonga sat in the trench, letting out a long breath of relief.

“No more rats.” Chen Guang had been lying on the wall for a long time, searching for targets, but there were fewer and fewer enemies to shoot. Several times, before he could open fire, the target was already downed by friendly fire. There were quite a few Later Jin wounded on the passageway, still struggling to crawl out from the walls of corpses and pools of blood. Chen Guang could no longer be bothered to finish off such targets with another shot.

In the distance, a helmetless Later Jin soldier suddenly burst out. Chen Guang aimed at that agile soldier and fired once, but failed to hit him.

“Good one!” Chen Guang cursed under his breath. He turned and took an arquebus that had been loaded for quite a while. After turning back, he saw that Later Jin soldier running extremely fast, diving into the trench behind the low wall an instant before the cannon sounded.

The wavy outer walls and trenches meant that these trenches were all perpendicular to the walls of one bastion or another, greatly eliminating dead angles of fire. As this Later Jin soldier jumped into the trench, Chen Guang and several men around him aimed together at that section of trench perpendicular to their wall… After firing this time, Chen Guang did not immediately go to exchange weapons, nor did the men around him. These relaxed arquebusiers waited impatiently for the volley’s gunpowder smoke to clear.

There, the smoke finally cleared. Chen Guang saw that Later Jin soldier lying on the ground, eyes and mouth wide open, blood bubbles still continuously emerging from his mouth. The man was already dead.

…

Bang, bang…

Aobai’s knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground. Countless Ming soldiers opposite were shouting and surging toward them. The lead Zhangjing had fallen just a few meters in front of him. Their swift charge had indeed frightened that batch of Ming soldiers into retreating, but in the blink of an eye, hundreds and thousands of Ming soldiers from all around, like a swarm of flies drawn by scent, came pouncing fiercely toward them.

Hit by several shots from three-barreled arquebuses, Aobai knew he was finished. He looked at the faces of the Ming soldiers drawing closer and closer. On those faces, it seemed… seemed to surge with joy and excitement?

Bang, bang.

Another volley of three-barreled arquebus shots sprayed over, and a few eagle-feather arrows also flew over to join the fun. After taking these hits, Aobai’s bull-strong body could hold out no longer. Before he could see the Ming soldiers’ expressions clearly, he pitched forward and fell, his face planting into the dirt as he died. A Changsheng Island silver coin rolled from his body — this was a piece of loot Aobai had greatly treasured.

The noisy mass of Ming soldiers swarmed forward, firing another chaotic volley into the dozens of corpses, then drew their waist sabers one after another to stab the bodies. Many who arrived too late ran to the cliff’s edge, desperately craning their heads to peer down in all directions, letting out sighs of deep regret. Finally, these Ming officers and soldiers searching for enemy traces turned back one after another, fired a few more shots at the corpses of Aobai and his comrades, then repeatedly stabbed their bodies with their waist sabers, doing their utmost to stain their blades with more blood.

As early as before the battle began today, Huang Shi had judged that a large force of Later Jin troops would struggle to bypass his flank and rear from the edge ice layer under heavy cannon fire. But the Guanning Army were all new recruits, and their courage when facing a small force’s sneak attack or assault was very worrying. So Huang Shi set a reward: anyone who fired an arrow within ten paces of the enemy would be rewarded one tael of silver; anyone who fired an arquebus within fifteen paces of the enemy would also be rewarded one tael of silver; anyone who engaged the Jianzhou slaves in close combat with cold steel, regardless of whether they took a head, would be rewarded ten taels of silver.

There were five hundred thousand taels of silver on Juehua Island. If the Guanning Army truly dared to stand on the cliff and fire at the Later Jin troops twenty to thirty meters below five hundred thousand times, then Huang Shi estimated the enemy wouldn’t have enough men to die. But the Guanning Army officers still felt this order was too crude. Vice General Yao personally stipulated that close combat with cold steel required blood on the blade as proof, and firing at the Jianzhou slaves also required a witness.

The silver chests brought out from the Juehua treasury were placed right behind the Guanning Army’s defense line, their lids all opened to reveal the gleaming white silver ingots inside. After killing Aobai and the others, those soldiers immediately went to collect their silver. One arquebus shot plus one saber thrust meant eleven taels of silver — cash on delivery, simply and easily earning nearly a year’s salary. Not only was there no worry of officers withholding this ready silver, but the ingots’ purity was also excellent, far superior to the military pay usually issued.

“Finally got our chance, really not bad.” These soldiers tucked the gleaming silver into their bosoms and walked eagerly to the cliff’s edge, looking around in all directions for any more enemy shadows. Some officers from neighboring units, watching with envy, also came over with three-barreled arquebuses tucked under their arms, fired a shot into the corpses, stained their own waist sabers with some blood, and finally went through the back door with their brother officers distributing silver to get some taels.

…

The fighting on the central battle line gradually cooled. Except for a few cannons still roaring, the Ming arquebuses gradually all fell silent. In fact, even the cannons still firing had shifted their targets to the routing defeated troops in the distance. On the ground lay several hundred soldiers’ corpses strewn in disorder, along with countless dead horses blanketing the earth. The trenches beside the walls were even filled to the brim with piled, layered bodies of men and horses.

Of the several thousand Later Jin vanguard troops who charged into the low wall, the vast majority never even found a chance to fight the Ming army. They were either blocked by their own men or stopped beneath the low wall and trenches. Countless Later Jin officers and soldiers simply burrowed back and forth in the trenches, futilely trying to find a dead angle or a breakthrough point.

In contrast, the Ming arquebusiers and artillerymen never ceased firing for a moment. The interlocking fire net ceaselessly reaped lives, until there were no more targets left to shoot.

A horse covered in blood wandered aimlessly in the middle of the road, large bloody gashes torn open on its body. This solitary warhorse trembled all over, paced to the edge of the trench and looked down, then lightly jumped in. After standing silently for another moment, the horse shuddered and collapsed limply, its four legs kicking in the air as it convulsed a few times, then died without even a whinny.

The Later Jin soldiers assaulting the chevaux-de-frise and wooden palisades were always sporadic; never once did anyone pose a threat to the Ming defense line. By the time they began to retreat, not only had few of the pikemen behind the defense line broken a sweat, but many felt their limbs were about to freeze stiff from standing still.

From the moment the arquebus fire erupted to when it gradually subsided, Zhao Yin, standing on the command platform, had not spoken a single word. Only after the battle had quieted for a while did he stiffly turn his neck a few times and, with an incredulous, astonished tone, quietly inquire of Huang Shi: “This battle… it’s won just like that? It’s over?”

The moment these words left Assistant Prefect Zhao’s mouth, before Huang Shi could explain, Wu Mu beside him burst into loud laughter. After drawing the attention of everyone around, Eunuch Wu was in no hurry to speak. Only after he had fully basked in smug satisfaction and built up the moment did he stroke his chest and laugh heartily: “Won — it was won long ago. But this battle — is not yet finished.”

After delivering this cliffhanger, Eunuch Wu ignored the questioning gaze Zhao Yin cast his way. His right hand pressed against his chest and slid a few times as he turned to Huang Shi and said, as if speaking to himself: “Military Commander Huang, hurry and finish the remaining work.”

Huang Shi pondered for a moment, then turned his head to Yao Yuxian and said: “Vice General Yao, it is time to clean the battlefield. My men are somewhat insufficient…”

The moment Huang Shi had just turned his face toward him, Vice General Yao immediately inclined his body, waiting with full concentration and deference for Huang Shi’s order. Now he hastily and repeatedly responded: “Yes, yes, yes. Military Commander Huang, rest assured, I have long prepared the executioners. May I ask how many Military Commander Huang requires?”

“Three hundred.” Huang Shi answered curtly. He did not want his own men doing the grueling work of taking heads; their physical strength was still very precious. Moreover, the Later Jin grand army was still within a cannon shot’s distance — wasting the pikemen’s stamina at this moment was clearly not a good idea.

Furthermore, the matter of taking heads had already been agreed upon beforehand with the several officers of the Guanning Army: all collected heads would be pooled and merit calculated uniformly, not claimed by whoever cut them. Huang Shi naturally had no fear of the Guanning Army seizing Changsheng Island’s share, and the Guanning Army officers figured that since it was Huang Shi’s troops holding the front anyway, if the Changsheng Island officers and men did not demand to scramble for heads, then they could just follow their wishes.

“At your command.” Vice General Yao nodded and bowed as he stepped back. Turning around, he straightened his face and, with awe-inspiring authority, ordered his own men to go forward and assist in the battle.