Chapter 119: A Despicable Tactic

The next day, at the new city, the alarm bell on the city wall rang out once more.

"The Tartars are attacking the city again!"

A soldier standing atop a tall tower observing through a telescope pointed into the distance and shouted loudly, where a large force of Qing troops was gradually approaching the new city.

A burst of urgent gong and drum sounds rang out from the wall, and Zhu Cilang inside the city heard the report from below and hurried up to the gate tower.

When he saw the scene below the walls, his face darkened involuntarily, and the other defending soldiers also changed expression one by one.

There, in the distance beyond the city, the Qing army had already formed its battle array, and at the very front of that array stood a great crowd of commoners, numbering several thousand.

They were ragged and tattered, many clutching hoes and iron spades, carrying baskets filled with earth—clearly the Qing army intended to use them to fill the moat.

Behind this crowd of commoners, ranks of Qing soldiers holding long spears were driving them forward, slowly advancing toward the city walls, and their cries and wails could be heard from several hundred paces away.

On the city wall, some of the defending soldiers turned ashen with fury, cursing three generations of the Tartars' relatives.

Huang Degong said, "Your Highness, they're driving civilians to attack the city. What do we do? Do we still open fire with the cannons?"

Sun Yingyuan said, "These Tartars are truly vicious. They know that Your Highness, as heir to the throne, cannot strike at the common people, so they use this despicable method to attack the city."

Even though Zhu Cilang knew from history that the Qing army would use this trick, he had never imagined he would face it himself. Though somewhat anxious inside, he did not show it, and said calmly, "These people below the walls—where are they from?"

Xu Sheng said, "According to carrier-pigeon messages from the Night Scouts, these commoners are refugees from when Your Highness pacified the people last time who refused to help build the city. They've been living in a shantytown a few li away. Qing scouts discovered them and sent men to seize them all and bring them here to fill the moat."

Zhu Cilang uttered an "oh," recalling the matter of pacifying the people by imperial decree. Of the hundred and twenty thousand refugees, most had been willing to help build the city; only fewer than twenty thousand were lazy and unwilling, planning instead to sneak in after the city was built, set up a shack, and keep living off the dole.

After the new city was established, entry was strictly limited to those holding wooden plaques, and all shack-dwelling refugees who had slipped in were expelled. These refugees could only return to the shantytown area, surviving on the few remaining porridge stations.

Zhu Cilang thought for a moment, then gave the order: "Once the Qing troops behind the refugees enter cannon range, open fire immediately to cut them off. Do not be afraid of hitting the refugees—if the city falls, your families here in the new city will end up the same way! Understood?!"

"Understood!" the soldiers of the new camp roared in unison. Compared to their own families, what were these lazy good-for-nothings worth?

In the Qing army's central command, watching the Ming commoners level the low walls under the Qing soldiers' goading, listening to the cries and wails filling the field, the Tartar generals found it as sweet as celestial music and could not help laughing heartily at one another.

Bohetuo said, "Imperial Son-in-Law, this plan of using Han to subdue Han is truly a fine stratagem. I'd like to see how the Ming crown prince deals with this."

Yangguli said, "What can he possibly do? He can only watch helplessly from the wall. Listen to how miserably those Ming dogs wail—haha, the more miserably they cry, the better!"

Bohetuo said contemptuously, "Han dogs are useless. In truth, the Han outnumber us Manchus a hundred to one. If every one of them resisted us, we probably wouldn't have broken into the Central Plains so easily..."

Just then, the two men's laughter abruptly died in their throats. Their gazes fixed on the new city's wall some two hundred-odd paces away, their eyes shooting out beams of disbelief.

As the crowd drew closer to the city wall, entering within five hundred meters, the several red barbarian cannons on the wall kept adjusting their range, ready to fire at any moment.

"Fire!"

At that moment, with a thunderous "Boom!" the cannons on the new city wall finally began to fire.

After the thunder of the guns, a swath of Qing soldiers driving the refugees below the wall fell, and some of the refugees were scattered as well.

Many refugees panicked and fell back, but the Qing soldiers behind them immediately swung their long spears and leather whips, trying to drive them forward again. The shouts and curses of the Qing troops and the cries and screams of the commoners could already be heard.

But the cannons on the wall kept firing one after another. With Qing soldiers whipping them from behind, the refugees could only run toward the wall, some shouting as they ran, "Soldiers, sirs, don't fire!"

The Qing soldiers hiding behind the refugees to drive them on did not stop the commoners' cries, only threatening them as they took up iron spades and hoes and began digging earth to fill the moat.

Sun Yingyuan frowned and said, "This is bad—at this rate, before long the moat will be completely filled in, and then the Tartars can push their shield carts and scaling-ladder carts against the city with no restraint."

Zhu Cilang had already regained his composure and said, "Not only that—when the Tartars formally attack the city, they will likewise drive these commoners forward to assault the walls."

The other generals exchanged uneasy glances, all eyes converging on Zhu Cilang. After all, this matter was too thorny; they dared not make decisions on their own.

Zhu Cilang pondered for a while, then finally spoke: "Throw down those weapons captured at Liangxiang and the armor we don't need—let these refugees pick them up and fight the Tartars!"

Before long, a great batch of weapons was carried up to the wall and, at Zhu Cilang's command, hurled down along the battlements. In an instant, a river of weapons appeared beyond the moat below the wall—swords, spears, axes, halberds, everything.

Zhu Cilang ordered some soldiers with loud voices to call out. These soldiers stood at the crenellations and shouted to the crowd below: "By order of the Crown Prince—if you are still subjects of the Great Ming, pick up the weapons on the ground and kill the Tartars! The Crown Prince promises: those who live shall be promoted, those who die shall have monuments erected! If you aid the Tartars in attacking the city, you will be killed without mercy!"

Zhu Cilang watched the scene below expressionlessly. These refugees had missed their first chance before; this was the second. If they were cowardly and feared death, then what awaited them was death.

If they still had any fighting spirit and wanted to live, they could only take up arms and fight—this was their only chance at survival.

In his plan, when the Qing army and the refugees became entangled in chaotic fighting, he would throw open the city gates and send out cavalry to charge and slaughter, perhaps even managing to drive back the Qing troops.

Of course, the cavalry would certainly suffer heavy losses as well, but to keep nearly ten thousand commoners from being butchered on the spot, he had no choice but to do this.

From the moment the weapons were thrown down from the wall, Yangguli had guessed the Ming army's intent. He said sternly, "Pass the order to the front formation—anyone who picks up a weapon is to be shot on the spot! Hurry, drive those Ming dogs to fill the river! Quick! Quick!"

Yangguli's order had just been relayed when, among the commoners being driven by the Qing army, a man suddenly swung the hoe in his hand and smashed it viciously against the head of a Tartar beside him.

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