Chapter 568: The Seasoned Li Jinquan

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Li Jingda was somewhat hesitant, because he knew what these tens of thousands of troops meant to the entire Southern Tang court.

Li Jinquan could of course run — to put it bluntly, he did not even need to run; he could simply surrender on the spot.

Because this Great Tang court was not Li Jinquan's family property — but Li Jingda had a share in it!

"Ah! If you won't leave, then I'm leaving!"

The moment Li Jinquan saw Bian Hao urging him desperately and the hesitation on Li Jingda's face, he knew what the two of them were thinking.

Right then, this great commander Li decided he was done persuading them. Ten thousand iron cavalry were charging in — what use could these tens of thousands of prefectural troops and local militia, without even armor on, still waiting for their meal, possibly be?

Li Jinquan turned and ran, while Bian Hao was still trying to bolster Li Jingda's spirits.

The Southern Tang army's main camp was laid out in a circular pattern: the circle was the main camp, and around it extended defensive watchtowers and stone stockades.

The central command tent stood at the very center of the circle, backed by a hill and facing water, and outside the main camp were large numbers of chevaux-de-frise, trenches, and the like.

Any enemy coming to raid the central command camp could only advance along the pre-arranged paths.

That way, the camp's elite troops could take the chance to block them, and officers in the various tents could also muster elite troops to surround and trap them.

As long as the main camp held, the attacking enemy would immediately turn into dumpling filling.

Of course, that was only the most ideal scenario. To achieve it, army morale had to hold steady, and someone needed to direct the defense calmly and coolly.

So after Bian Hao steadied Li Jingda, he hurried off to deploy the main imperial guard force and the Jiankang Army to prepare for defense — but only after he stepped outside did he understand that Li Jinquan's judgment had been correct.

In fact, the signal had been slow from the moment the beacon smoke rose, because the soldiers on the beacon tower a few li from the main camp had not received the distant beacon smoke earlier.

So when Murong Xinzhang's six thousand-odd riders came charging at them, they first froze for a moment — after all, they were not sure whether this was an enemy raid.

Then the beacon tower's fire chief sent a signal asking for instructions, and after getting no response, hesitated again before finally risking it and lighting the beacon smoke.

With all this back and forth, at the speed of Murong Xinzhang's Hexi heavenly horses, they had basically already reached the outskirts of the Southern Tang army's main camp.

Even a nation-state army of later ages, hit by a surprise attack like this, would be thrown into utter chaos and would struggle to organize a defense in a short time — the Southern Tang army had even less hope.

As for the chevaux-de-frise and trenches that Bian Hao had pinned his hopes on to slow the enemy, they were completely useless.

Because charging at the very front were Dunzhu's four hundred javelin throwers. Though they rode warhorses, they had come to do the dirty work.

The moment they hit a chevaux-de-frise, hundreds of javelins flew out at once, scattering the Southern Tang soldiers behind it, and then they would haul the barrier aside.

Of course, there were things the four hundred javelin throwers could not handle, and at those times over a hundred mounted elite cavalry would dismount. Wearing light armor and carrying divine-arm crossbows, they faced Southern Tang soldiers rushing over in confusion — how could those men possibly hold?

The trenches were even less of a problem, because the Southern Tang did not have enough manpower to dig trenches everywhere.

Nor could they dig everywhere — after all, their own men still needed to move out, and grain and baggage still had to be transported inside the camp. Digging everywhere would have been digging their own trap.

More importantly, their trenches were dug too narrow. Bian Hao and indeed the entire Southern Tang army lacked experience fighting cavalry.

The trenches they dug could certainly not be jumped by armored soldiers wearing several dozen jin of lamellar armor, and ordinary warhorses certainly could not jump them either.

But the Hexi heavenly horses — these descendants of folded-ear horses and Ferghana horses, raised at the heaven-chosen Shandan Army Horse Farm, strictly bred and strictly mated according to the methods Zhang Zhao had demanded from later ages — were a different matter.

Even carrying a load of one hundred seventy or eighty jin, they could still leap while charging at full speed.

Murong Xinzhang's Snow Amidst Dust was one of the finest of them. The moment the fine lad pulled the reins, Snow Amidst Dust neighed with excitement, soared into the air like a heavenly horse among the clouds, cleared the trench with ease, and came crashing down hard into the Southern Tang formation.

Then Murong Xinzhang lashed left and struck right with the cavalry lance in his hands, and immediately carved out a breach.

Right after, more warhorses cleared the trench and came flying over, and the Southern Tang soldiers were terrified out of their wits.

A Jiankang Army deputy commander let out a shriek, threw away his saber and shield, turned and fled — and as he ran, he flung off every bit of extra gear on his body.

Murong Xinzhang chased these routed soldiers and headed straight for the main camp.

The highly experienced soldiers of the Left Feathered Forest Guard worked in silent coordination, constantly using horn bows, crossbows, and ghastly howls to sow chaos.

The screams of the Southern Tang soldiers seemed contagious; every tent they passed, they dragged a considerable number of their own comrades into collapse with them.

At the same time, Dunzhu's four hundred javelin throwers, after hauling aside the chevaux-de-frise, immediately turned into arsonists.

It was already near summer, the tents and stockades were basically all wood, and a sudden southeastern wind sprang up — the flames rode the wind and burned even fiercer.

Smoke and fire rose everywhere, as if Zhou cavalry had emerged from every direction at once.

Bian Pusa strained with everything he had and finally gathered several thousand men at the main camp gate.

The number was not large, but the main camp gate had chevaux-de-frise and trenches in full array, and with all the obstacles around, they still looked capable of putting up a fight.

But he was immediately proven wrong, because what he had to face was not the charge of Zhou iron cavalry, but a flood of routed soldiers collapsing back from every direction.

These panicked fugitives, without any prior agreement, all ran toward the place they felt safest in their hearts — the central command camp. To get inside, they hauled aside every roadblock and chevaux-de-frise in their way.

Bian Hao had no choice but to order his soldiers to shoot arrows at these routed men.

The fugitives had come to the central command camp seeking protection, but what greeted them was their own side's arrows — and at once a great swath of them fell.

These Southern Tang soldiers wept and cursed; many of them even knew the soldiers shooting the arrows. Though they fell back, their weeping curses were seared deep into the hearts of the archers, and for a time morale wavered.

Bian Hao was just about to say a few words to steady the troops, but at that very moment — when his soldiers' hearts were shaken and they had just loosed several volleys — a large number of Zhou archers suddenly burst out from the crowd.

They had long since blended into the crowd in groups of thirty or fifty. Now, seeing the Southern Tang soldiers' nerves frayed, Zhang Xiaobiao suddenly roared, and all the soldiers together raised their divine-arm crossbows and loosed a covering volley at the Southern Tang troops.

The divine-arm crossbow is a thing that strings fast, hits far harder than a bow, and — crucially — is accurate. Under dense covering fire, the Southern Tang troops immediately suffered heavy casualties.

The spearmen in particular, who had just used their long spears to drive off the fugitives, had no protection at all and immediately collapsed in droves.

Without waiting for Bian Hao's order, the officers frantically pulled the spearmen back and sent the saber-and-shield men forward to cover them.

But at the very moment the Southern Tang troops were switching ranks front to back, the thunder of hooves shook the sky — Murong Xinzhang and Gao Huaide had arrived with the six hundred most elite riders.

At that instant, the spearmen had just recoiled and the saber-and-shield men had just come forward. With no forest of gleaming long spears before them, the warhorses felt no fear at all and immediately crashed in.

The saber-and-shield men in the front ranks suffered terribly. Their shields blocked their view, and many only realized the enemy armored cavalry had already charged in after they had been sent flying by the warhorses.

As two of the Southern Tang's finest infantry units, the Divine Guard Army and the Jiankang Army put up a final resistance, and the rear-rank crossbowmen and archers loosed a volley.

If it had been crossbow bolts, that would have been somewhat better — at least they had decent killing power — but the far more numerous arrows were a different story.

Murong Xinzhang, in white helmet and white armor, on a white horse with a silver lance, took more than ten arrows, but every one of them lodged in his cloth-faced iron armor, and his movements were not impaired in the slightest.

A crafty crossbowman, seeing that arrows could not pierce the armor, made ready to bring out his crossbow and shoot.

But Murong Xinzhang had spotted him long ago. The fine lad charged at the very front of the battlefield and had never suffered a serious wound — all thanks to this battlefield instinct.

At the critical moment, Murong Xinzhang let out a thunderous roar, and the long lance in his hand shot forth with it.

A crossbowman was just raising his crossbow when, from twenty or thirty paces away, the lance arrived like a shooting star and nailed him dead to the ground.

Then the fine young fellow pulled the two wrought-copper maces from the side of his horse, spurred his mount into a fierce charge, and forced his way straight into the mass of crossbowmen, his twin maces whirling so fast they left afterimages, striking until blood and flesh flew everywhere.

Many Southern Tang crossbowmen still had their crossbows in hand and could not fight back at all. In an instant, some had their heads smashed open, red and white spraying everywhere, while others had arms and legs broken.

Murong Xinzhang rode alone through the Southern Tang ranks as if entering uninhabited ground. The Southern Tang soldiers around him, as though facing a god of slaughter, began fleeing in all directions — no one dared resist.

At the same time, more Zhou iron cavalry broke through the melee infantry lines and plunged into the crossbowmen.

The Southern Tang army could not withstand this pressure at all and collapsed like a landslide. Several thousand men screamed in terror and abandoned resistance within the space of a few breaths.

However, none of them could outrun Bian Gao. The moment Bodhisattva Bian saw the white-armored, white-robed Murong charge into the crossbowmen, he knew it was over. He did not pause for even a moment, immediately fleeing back to the main camp with a few trusted followers.

At this time, Li Jingda was anxiously awaiting news. The moment he saw Bian Gao run back, before he could even open his mouth to ask, Bian Gao had his guards hoist Li Jingda up and race south, toward the riverbank.

He could only hope Li Jinquan's Zhenguo Army had not yet left — otherwise the situation would be truly dire.

But they had not run far when they ran headlong into Li Jinquan, who was himself fleeing toward the main camp, covered in dust and grime.

Li Jinquan stared at Li Jingda and Bian Gao, both caked in dust, too astonished to speak.

Li Jingda and Bian Gao, in turn, stared at Li Jinquan, whose body was covered in bloodstains as though he had just barely escaped with his life — even more dumbfounded.

"I regret not heeding the Grand Commandant's words. That white-robed Murong is truly peerless in valor — utterly impossible to withstand!"

Li Jingda was dazed. He had assumed Li Jinquan had fought his way back to rescue him.

Li Jinquan's mouth was full of bitterness. He smacked his lips twice and said with a laugh that was not quite a laugh and a cry that was not quite a cry.

"Even if Your Highness had heeded me, it would have done no good. Zhao Kuangyin sallied out from Yizheng City, and the Zhenhai Army could not hold and has already scattered. All I have left now are these two or three hundred men around me."

When Li Jingda heard this, tears nearly fell. "The Zhenhai Army is fierce and sharp, with six thousand men — twice the Zhou cavalry at Yizheng City!"

Li Jinquan shook his big head and shouted, "What use was that? My lads were eating their meal — no armor on, no weapons in hand. The Zhou iron cavalry was upon them in an instant. There was no way to resist."

Li Jingda wailed in despair. Now, at last, he felt the terror of death.

The Southern Tang prince grabbed Li Jinquan's hand and, clinging to his last hope, asked, "Does the Grand Commandant have any further plan?"

Fearing Li Jinquan might misunderstand his meaning, he immediately spoke more bluntly. "We must preserve these still-useful bodies of ours!"

Li Jinquan understood at once. He pointed to the southwest. "There is a hill over there. Let us escort Your Highness to it. With these few hundred men, it will be enough to keep the routed soldiers at bay. If a Zhou general comes, there will surely be someone I know among them — our lives can be preserved!"

Truly worthy of a Five Dynasties yabing guard of Daibei old-timer stock — he had won many battles and eaten his share of defeats too. When it came to saving his skin on the battlefield, he knew every trick.

What they feared most now was not Murong Xinzhang, for if Murong came, he would surely choose to capture them alive.

What they feared now were the common soldiers. Those men would not know who they were. If they swarmed up and stabbed them to death, then stripped their robes and gold and silver, cut off their heads and went to claim the reward — that would be a truly wrongful death.

No sooner said than done. Li Jinquan and Bian Gao, with three or four hundred men, shielded Li Jingda and made for the hill.

At this moment, the main camp outside Yizheng City — where the Southern Tang's twenty thousand main-force troops, forty thousand prefectural and county soldiers and local militia, and thirty to forty thousand laborers were based — was already a sea of fire.

Men and horses trampled one another; far more died jumping into the river than were killed by the Zhou iron cavalry. The entire army had utterly collapsed.