Chapter 412: Success Achieved

The booi bondservants guarding the campfire, upon hearing the cannon fire, leapt up from the ground like rabbits with arrows in their backsides and fled in panic along the camp palisade.

The Qing soldiers on watch duty who had been dozing on the stockade wall were instantly jolted awake. There was no need to sound the horn now—the thunderous roar of twenty cannons firing could be faintly heard even ten li away.

In the baggage camp not far to the northeast of the main Qing army camp, the thousand Qing soldiers responsible for guarding it were also startled awake. Under the command of their janggin, they began to take up defensive positions to prevent a surprise attack by the Ming army on the vital grain stores.

Abatai, who had slept in his clothes, jumped up from his bed at the first sound of cannon fire. In his haste, he grabbed the helmet by his pillow and clapped it onto his head, then strode quickly out of his tent.

After emerging from the tent, Abatai took a look around by the light of the torches lit by his personal guards outside. Seeing squad after squad of Qing soldiers rapidly pouring out of their tents and gathering under the banners of their respective niru commanders in the torchlight, Abatai could not help but nod slightly.

The sons of the Eight Banners, who had campaigned unceasingly for years, did not lose their composure over the midnight emergency—there was not the slightest sign of panic or confusion among the troops.

After two rounds of bombardment from the Ming army's Folangji cannons, the palisade and camp gate on the Qing army's front were shattered into fragments. Of the Qing sentries on the earthen stockade wall, apart from a few unlucky souls who had not made it down in time and perished, the rest had long since descended and were crouching behind low walls built of sandbags.

Under the cover of the Folangji cannons, a thousand sword-and-shield soldiers used their shields to protect several hundred conscripted laborers, who advanced to the Qing palisade carrying great axes and large saws and began demolition operations.

At this period, the Qing army never paid much attention to fortifying their camps. The palisade stakes planted by the booi bondservants were of uneven depth and none too sturdy, so the laborers of the baggage train cleared away the front palisade in no time at all.

Because the Folangji cannonballs were continuously falling from the sky and bouncing about in every direction, Abatai did not order any attempt to stop the Ming army's demolition work.

On the contrary, he hoped the Ming army would charge in after breaching the palisade—then the Qing army's two thousand archers would inflict heavy casualties upon them.

Taking advantage of the moment before the Folangji cannon barrels grew hot, the laborers withdrew back to the rear camp. The two thousand archers and crossbowmen of the White Pole troops arrayed themselves forward in the light of the campfires and began blind shooting at the several low walls ahead that lay within bow range.

Two thousand long arrows and crossbow bolts soared into the air, and after flying forty or fifty paces, they turned and stabbed down into the ground. The white eagle-feather fletching on the three-edged long arrows gleamed with striking clarity in the firelight.

Under the covering rain of arrows, the Han Banner soldiers crouching behind the two low walls in front suffered a devastating blow.

Because the rate of fire of the bows and crossbows was extremely fast, in the space of a few dozen breaths more than ten thousand bolts had blanketed a large area. The Qing soldiers caught within simply had no time to dodge or take cover—those quick to react snatched up the sandbags in front of them to use as shields, while the slow ones fell in the rain of arrows.

By the time the White Pole archers had loosed eight volleys and withdrawn, several hundred Han Banner soldiers lay dead with arrows bristling from every corpse.

At this point, the Folangji cannons that had been coordinating with the archery also fell silent. The gunners stopped loading ammunition and waited for the barrels to cool.

The Qing soldiers within the camp held their breath and waited for the Ming infantry to charge next. The archers, who had suffered only light casualties, drew their bows and nocked their arrows, ready to deal the Ming army a heavy blow.

Time passed minute by minute. The campfires before the stockade, lacking fuel, burned lower and lower, and the area they illuminated shrank steadily—but the sound of massed infantry advancing in formation never came.

After waiting for a while, Shang Kexi conferred with Abatai and immediately ordered the casualties dragged to the rear, so as not to interfere with the large-scale fighting that would follow.

But even after the Han Banner soldiers had dragged away the corpses, the Folangji cannonballs had been roughly gathered together, and the arrows shot by the Ming army had been collected—after all of these actions had been completed—the awaited Ming infantry still had not appeared.

As the piles of campfires outside the palisade went out one after another, the entire earth was once again shrouded in darkness.

After a brief discussion with Shang Kexi, Abatai concluded that this was a Ming tactic to weary the enemy. After all, with visibility so poor at night, the likelihood of dispatching a large force for a night attack was quite small.

He therefore ordered booi bondservants selected to relight the campfires, left a thousand men on watch behind the low walls, and sent the main force back into their tents to rest and await orders.

Having stood duty all day, then been roused from deep sleep to face the enemy at night, the Qing soldiers were utterly exhausted. One by one they returned to their tents and fell asleep the moment their heads hit the pillow. Before long, snoring rose from all corners of the camp.

Yet barely half a shichen had passed—the sky still pitch black—when the Ming army's cannon fire sounded once more, this time faintly mingled with the shouts of battle and the shrill, piercing sound of the Ming army's distinctive trumpets.

The sleeping Qing soldiers were startled from their dreams yet again. This time, there was already some disorder as they emerged from their tents to muster, and the Qing soldiers guarding the grain camp made the same move as well.

But just as the Qing army once more steeled itself to meet the enemy, the cannon fire and battle cries ceased abruptly, and the Ming camp fell silent once again.

Though Abatai and Shang Kexi were both deeply frustrated, there was nothing they could do about it—after all, with so many cannons trained on their front gate, the Qing army simply could not organize a force to launch a raid of their own.

Just as Abatai was about to order the troops back to their tents to sleep and to ignore any further commotion from the Ming army, one of his guards suddenly pointed toward the northeast of the camp and shouted loudly: "Beile! Could it be a fire?! It looks like it's from the direction where the grain is stored!"

Everyone around, including Abatai and Shang Kexi, turned their heads at the shout. There, not far off to the northeast, the pitch-black night sky had turned the color of orange-red, and within it, billowing thick smoke could be seen drifting up into the heavens.

Abatai and Shang Kexi exchanged a glance, and each read many emotions in the other's eyes—chief among them bewilderment and chagrin.

The Qing army's main camp was wedged in the middle of the narrow corridor of the Liaoxi Passage, with several thousand cavalry stationed on either flank. There was no way the Ming army opposite could send men past the Qing forces in front to go set fire to the grain.

Though Zhenyuan Fort, dozens of li away, was held by Ming troops, under the watchful eyes of the Eight Banners' main force, how would they dare send men around for a sneak attack from the rear?

Yet looking at how ferociously the fire was burning—unless there were accelerants fueling it, the dozen-odd grain and fodder stacks, which were piled separately, would never have burned so fiercely on their own.

Could it truly be that the Ming troops stationed at Zhenyuan Fort had sent men through the night to start the fire?

Were the Ming army's two nighttime harassments tonight deliberately staged to coordinate with this operation to burn the grain stores?

His face ashen, Abatai mounted his warhorse, gave Shang Kexi a few hurried instructions, then rode off with a retinue of guards holding torches toward the baggage camp.

Against a fire fueled with gunpowder, cooking oil, and other accelerants, trying to put it out with wooden buckets of water was utterly futile.

The fifty Zhenyuan Fort soldiers who took part in the night raid, seizing the moment when the Qing guards, having been roused twice to meet the enemy, had fallen into exhausted sleep, sawed through the palisade stakes from several directions and slipped inside. Then, following their prearranged assignments, they silently killed the Qing sentries one by one and piled accelerants beneath the fodder stacks before setting them alight.

Once the fire had taken hold and the panicked Qing soldiers began organizing firefighting efforts, they took advantage of the chaos to ignite the remaining grain and fodder stacks one by one. Then these few dozen men withdrew toward the points where they had entered, seeking opportunities to escape.

Unfortunately, their movements were still discovered by the Qing soldiers. After a brief but fierce struggle, only twelve soldiers managed to squeeze through the gaps and flee into the vast darkness of the night—all the rest were killed.

The great fire at the Qing baggage camp did not gradually die out until dawn. Apart from two grain stacks that were saved, six fodder stacks for the warhorses and three grain stacks had been burned. This meant that Abatai's force would soon face the danger of running out of provisions.

After beheading the janggin responsible for guarding the vital grain stores, Abatai conferred once more with Shang Kexi, then decided to withdraw northward to link up with the main army led by Yoto.

The twenty thousand Ming troops outside Ningyuan did not launch an attack when the Qing army withdrew, but instead continued northward in tight formation, following ten li behind the Qing army.