Chapter 270: Meeting the Enemy

After receiving word inside Songshan city that Eight Banner scout horsemen had already appeared outside the walls, Hong Chengchou still felt a faint unease in his heart: the course of events had not deviated from expectations—seeing that Jinzhou would be difficult to take, the Jianzhou barbarians' main commander had indeed turned toward the south of Jinzhou. If only the Jianzhou barbarians, seeing no profit to be gained, had withdrawn directly from Jinzhou back to Shengjing, then the Ministry of War's plans would have come to nothing, and Yang Sichang would have had no chance to accumulate political capital.

But since the Jianzhou barbarians had truly come, then it was best to meet them in battle according to the original plan. Although personal interest was involved, the principled error of letting private concerns override public duty was one that he, Hong Hengjiu, would not commit.

"Transmit this officer's command: the garrison troops of Daxing Fort, Xingping Fort, and Songshan are to prepare to march out three hundred paces beyond the walls and form ranks to meet the enemy; the Xingshan garrison is to be ready to respond at any moment! All units must act in sincere cooperation—any who defy orders, or stand by watching friendly forces in peril without coming to their aid, shall be beheaded!"

Daxing Fort was a modest-sized fortification located thirty li southwest of Songshan, built in the year when Yuan Chonghuan served as Supreme Commander of Liaodong, later demolished by the Later Jin of that time, and finally repaired by craftsmen arranged by Sun Chengzong.

Daxing Fort had originally been garrisoned by one battalion of Liaoxi Ming troops on the official rolls, though the actual strength numbered fewer than five hundred. After the three thousand men of the Yongwei Camp arrived led by Mobile Corps Commander Feng Jun, Ma Xinglu, the battalion officer of the Liaoxi regular forces, had already received instructions from his superiors and dutifully taken on the responsibilities of a logistics officer.

Ma Xinglu, in his early thirties, came from a hereditary military household in Liaoyang on his ancestors' side. At sixteen, as the eldest son of the family, he inherited the family profession and entered the regular army, participating in several battles against the Jianzhou barbarians during that time, though most ended in defeat. Over these ten-odd years, Ma Xinglu and millions of Ming soldiers and civilians had experienced the forced flight from Liaodong to Liaoxi; defeat after defeat had taken him from grief and anger to defiance, then to fear, until finally only numbness remained.

Watching the Great Ming gradually decay from within and without—especially after the current Chongzhen Emperor ascended the throne—bad news had come to Liaoxi in an unbroken stream. Only then did he learn that the roving bandits had struck inside the passes, and in growing numbers, defeating several routes of government troops in succession. It seemed the Great Ming might truly fall. All these assorted troubles left Ma Xinglu deeply disheartened, worrying endlessly about the future for himself and his family.

Meanwhile, the Jianzhou barbarians of Liaodong seized the opportunity to expand their forces and prepare their equipment, launching continuous attacks against the Liaoxi regular troops, bit by bit devouring Ming territory beyond the passes. A few years earlier they had already fought their way to the edge of Jinzhou and taken Yizhou along the way. In contrast, the entire Liaoxi army, under the leadership of the Commissioner-in-Chief, sat with a vast host yet feared the enemy like tigers, only ordering the forts and cities to hunker down in defense, strictly forbidding reckless engagement with the Jianzhou barbarians. Having witnessed with his own eyes the rise of what had once been a small tribe, Ma Xinglu no longer held any hope deep in his heart of ever returning to Liaoyang.

He had accepted his fate. At the rate things were going, all this fine land beyond the passes would sooner or later belong to the Jianzhou barbarians, and the Liaoxi army's nominal hundred-thousand-odd soldiers would either surrender or withdraw inside the passes. His ancestors had lived on this land beyond the passes for generations, and no matter what, he could not bear to leave. If it truly came down to it, he would simply surrender—after all, there was no shortage of government troops who had submitted to the barbarians. When the time came, he would spend some silver, entrust a few fellow townsmen and colleagues who had surrendered early and done well among the Jianzhou barbarians, and at least manage to get himself some minor post, so long as his family could follow without suffering.

In recent years, news from inside the passes had continued to arrive, but this time it was different—what had once been bad news had all turned to good news, and good news in an unbroken stream. Especially in the ninth year of Chongzhen, when he heard that the government troops had completely wiped out the roving bandits inside the passes, Ma Xinglu was genuinely overjoyed: if the government troops were so formidable, then after finishing off the bandits, wouldn't the Chongzhen Emperor send them to fight the Jianzhou barbarians?

Although over these ten-odd years he had risen muddle-headedly from a squad leader to a battalion officer, and had since learned from his superiors the practices of padding the payroll, doing business to earn silver, and conscripting his soldiers and military households to farm for him, he still hoped the government troops could recover Liaodong, so that after his death he could be buried alongside his great-grandfather, grandfather, and father, who lay in Liaoyang.

As for surrendering to the Jianzhou barbarians, that was something to be done only in the most desperate circumstances, as the one thing necessary to stay alive.

In truth, Ma Xinglu despised those savages from the bottom of his heart, and especially toward that money-rat-tail queue, Ma Xinglu felt a deep disgust.

The sudden arrival of the Yongwei Camp surprised Ma Xinglu and pleased him somewhat: could it be that the Chongzhen Emperor had heard his words and truly sent a great army to Liaoxi? He just didn't know whether these soldiers could defeat the Jianzhou barbarians—those savages had spent years beating the fear into them, the Liaoxi regulars.

Ma Xinglu's worry did not last long—the Yongwei Camp took Yizhou and beheaded a thousand true Eight Banner barbarians in battle. Hearing the news, Ma Xinglu was as happy as a child.

Although he did not know why the government troops abandoned Yizhou after only a few days and withdrew south of Jinzhou, this did not diminish Ma Xinglu's admiration for the officers and men of the Yongwei Camp. This was a strong army that had defeated real Jianzhou barbarians! The Liaoxi army had fought the Jianzhou barbarians for years, suffering countless dead and wounded, yet had never taken more than a few genuine Jianzhou barbarian heads. These men had this time truly chopped off a thousand heads.

Upon receiving word that a detachment of the Yongwei Camp would come to garrison Daxing Fort, Ma Xinglu immediately ordered his soldiers to vacate the barracks within the fort to accommodate the Yongwei Camp's arrival and rest.

"General Feng, is our Yongwei Camp going to be permanently stationed in Liaoxi from now on? Last time at the battle of Yizhou, how many Jianzhou barbarians did you personally kill, General? I hear our Yongwei Camp's firearms are formidable—at Yizhou it was the muskets that led the front line. But I have musketeers under my command too, and the lads are all unwilling to use the guns—at thirty paces they can barely break through the barbarians' armor, and by the time you've fired one shot the barbarians are already upon you. I also feel they're not as good as bows and arrows. Could it be that the Yongwei Camp's muskets are different from ours? General, those Jianzhou barbarians' heavy arrows are formidable—accurate and long-ranged, able to pierce cotton armor from fifty paces out. You should tell your brothers to be careful!"

Within the ten-odd days the Yongwei Camp was stationed at Daxing Fort, Ma Xinglu had become thoroughly familiar with Feng Jun, the Yongwei Camp's Mobile Corps Commander. The reason was simple: Ma Xinglu had privately sent Feng Jun two hundred taels of silver, using the pretext of thanking the Yongwei Camp's officers and men for avenging his father, who had died under Jianzhou barbarian blades.

Though as a Mobile Corps Commander Feng Jun received a substantial monthly salary, wealth stirs men's hearts; besides, the man had not asked anything of him, and unable to decline, he accepted it. From then on, the friendship between the two warmed rapidly, and they soon became close friends who talked about everything.

Ma Xinglu had accumulated considerable family wealth over the years. The reason he gave silver to Feng Jun was simply to keep a path open for the future—one never knew when it might prove useful. Besides, the other was a bona fide Mobile Corps Commander general, while he was only a battalion officer; being able to curry favor was already quite good.

Feng Jun, who had been standing on the fort's low city wall scanning the surroundings, hesitated for a moment. Seeing no one else nearby, he lowered his voice and said: "Old Ma, we're not outsiders anymore. Truth be told, this time it's not just that the Yongwei Camp isn't leaving—more of the imperial army will be coming from the court! I hear the court intends to gather a great host this time, planning to kick down the Jianzhou barbarians' nest directly! Last time at the battle of Yizhou I fought at the west gate and didn't encounter many Jianzhou barbarians, but they seemed like nothing special—hit by a musket ball, they die just the same! I tell you, Old Ma, when Liaoyang is recovered you'll have to treat me to a drink—that is, if I haven't died in battle by then!"

Feng Jun's words excited Ma Xinglu greatly. He was just about to ask further questions when suddenly a plume of dust rose in the distance—a small troop of cavalry was galloping from the north toward Daxing Fort. Feng Jun immediately shouted the order: "All troops, stand to!"

The soldiers who had been sitting resting on the city wall quickly rose and formed ranks, awaiting their superior's next command.

The horse troop drew closer and closer. When they were still several hundred paces from the wall, Feng Jun could tell from their armor and the identifying banners on their backs that the riders were Ming cavalry—a Night Scout squad of the Yongwei Camp.

In a short while, this Night Scout unit arrived several dozen paces from the fort wall. The Platoon Officer at the lead reined in his horse; the warhorse neighed and turned in a circle on the spot, and the riders behind also reined their mounts to a halt one after another.

"A large force of Jianzhou barbarians is advancing south from ten li to the north! The Supreme Commander orders the garrison to meet the enemy according to the plan! Farewell!"

After loudly relaying the enemy intelligence, the Platoon Officer tugged his reins and squeezed his horse's flanks with both legs; the warhorse galloped eastward, the riders behind spurring their mounts to follow.

"Pass the order: the musketeer battalion, the long-spear battalion, and the sword-and-shield battalion are to march out three hundred paces and form ranks; the artillerymen are to cover the flanks from the city wall! Old Ma, you take your men and hold the west and south gates—if you feel you can't hold, sound the alarm at once!"

Feng Jun shouted loudly.

For safety's sake, twenty Folangji cannons were positioned on both sides of Daxing Fort's north gate. The government troops formed ranks three hundred paces outside the city, just within the Folangji cannon's effective range of five hundred paces, so that the artillery fire from the walls could provide fire cover and support for the troops below.

Less than ten li east of Daxing Fort lay Xingping Fort, which likewise garrisoned three thousand men of the Yongwei Camp. Since the two forts were so close together, the Jianzhou barbarians could not possibly pass between them to attack the east gate, so Feng Jun had Ma Xinglu take his fewer than five hundred men to hold the west and south gates.

In fact, aside from the north gate, the other three gates were all quite safe. Feng Jun did this partly to look after Ma Xinglu, and partly because he did not trust the Liaoxi army's fighting ability or morale—it was better to keep them inside the city where he could feel more at ease.

Ma Xinglu gratefully clasped his fists to Feng Jun, said "Much obliged," then turned and called a few personal guards and hurried down from the fort wall. Feng Jun watched him leave, then also descended the wall and personally led his troops out of the city, preparing to meet the Jianzhou barbarians who were about to arrive.

An hour later, Shang Kexi led the soldiers of ten niru of the Han Army Banners to Daxing Fort, accompanied by Duobi and Bayang'a with five hundred horsemen of the Bordered White Banner.