Chapter 294: Zhang Nai's Thoughts

"Marquis, should we try to fight for it a bit more..."

Zhang Nai led his men back from the front, gasping for breath. He glanced at the others who had fled in disarray, then thought back to more than a decade ago when they had been chased by government troops with their heads tucked between their legs — and felt a surge of unwillingness.

Why, after all this time, did they still have to live such a stifling life?

"Go! Move it!!"

Though Liu Zongmin was often impulsive in battle, he was nonetheless a man of decisiveness at critical moments. Hearing Zhang Nai's question, he did not hesitate to roar out a few words.

This was also what Li Zicheng liked about Liu Zongmin — though the man was overbearing, he was an indispensable member of the Dashun army. When battle reached a stalemate, he would lead the charge at the front, unafraid of life or death, holding the line for Li Zicheng.

When the battle turned one-sided and no hope of turning things around remained, Li Zicheng would only look after himself. At such times, Liu Zongmin would likewise uphold the principle of "as long as the green mountains remain, there will be no shortage of firewood," and turn around to leave without hesitation.

Afterwards, the two would tacitly reunite and use the old camp to raise a new force once more.

Those who remained on the city wall without fleeing were mostly men willing to die fighting alongside Liu Zongmin — each one resolved to die for their marquis. The order to retreat needed no further urging from Zhang Nai; when the men saw Liu Zongmin descend the wall, they naturally lost all thought of fighting to the death and fled back down the wall along the same route.

Fortunately, they were the old camp. Over the years, being chased all over the place by government troops was hardly an unfamiliar situation — how to handle it had long been etched into their bones.

Though they appeared to scatter in all directions at the moment, most of the old camp was fleeing with a plan. Before long they would circle back to camp and find their units — this was also the reason they had survived all these years. When it came to running, they were masters of every trick in the book.

Even if a few individuals couldn't find their units in the coming days, they could learn the movements of the government troops and the Dashun army from the common folk. Returning to the ranks was merely a matter of time.

Because the imperial troops were on guard against a counterattack from the roving bandits, the results of the pursuit were quite limited. By the time Wu Qihua and the others led their men to the barbican, those monkey-like old bandits had long since vanished without a trace — too late to catch them.

Of course, no one in the midst of fleeing for their life would spare a thought for anyone or anything besides themselves. Every old bandit, upon descending the wall, hurried to find his tethered mount, picked a direction with no government soldiers, and whipped his horse desperately to get off the battlefield.

Since they had followed Liu Zongmin up the wall, these mounts had expended virtually no energy. Under such rapid whip-cracking from their riders, they ran at a speed comparable to the Jurchen cavalry led by Wurumai.

He didn't know how long he had run when Zhang Nai looked back and saw no trace of any government pursuers on the horizon. Only then did he realize his right hand had grown sore from the prolonged whipping. Grimacing, he gradually slowed to a stop.

Zhang Nai rubbed his aching right shoulder, looked up at the sky that had just begun to darken, then turned to see the old camp men beside him — fewer than fifty in all, each one looking like a lost dog. His nose stung, and he was so angry he nearly cried.

This kind of scene was all too familiar to every one of them. When they had fought across the Central Plains, there had been glorious victories, but in the beginning, most of the time was spent being chased around just like this.

Back then, the Dashun army had been at its lowest point. The various rebel forces that had seemed united began to change under the government troops' attacks. Liu Guoneng and a great many other highly prestigious leaders began defecting to the government forces, and the Dashing King's camp began to split from within.

Since the founding of the Dashun dynasty in Xi'an, Zhang Nai had been appointed General of Martial Might of the Central Army. He had felt that his hardships had finally paid off and that he could bring glory to his ancestors — but who would have thought he'd still be chased and beaten by government troops to this day.

"When will this kind of life ever end?" Lost in a swirl of gloomy thoughts, Zhang Nai inadvertently let out this somewhat pessimistic remark.

The old camp men around him were all covered in dust and grime. Hearing Zhang Nai's words, each of them was reminded of their former life as roving bandits — and looking at it now, there truly wasn't much difference.

In truth, no matter how many grandiose imperial titles Li Zicheng bestowed upon himself, and no matter what lofty positions the roving bandits were ceremoniously enfeoffed with, facing the Great Ming that had endured for over two hundred and seventy years, each of them still felt in his heart that he was a bandit.

It was in their bones. Unless they completely took Beijing, this feeling would never change.

One old camp man shook his head, rode his horse to the water's edge, looked around at the surroundings, and said with a sigh: "General, we've run up to the banks of Man River. While it's still not dark, shall we return to camp?"

The old camp man's words carried a note of inquiry — clearly tinged with uncertainty and reluctance.

Zhang Nai also let out a heavy sigh upon hearing this. He urged his horse to the water's edge, looked at the village on the opposite bank, and said: "It's already dark tonight. We'll return to camp tomorrow. Let's rest there for the night first."

The Dashun army, touted as a million strong — though its actual numbers didn't reach a million, it still had around five hundred thousand. How could it have fought like this against government troops who, even counting reinforcements, numbered less than a hundred thousand?

They didn't even know how many tenths of their forces they had lost. With such a disparity in strength, failing to take Gu Pass was already a defeat — let alone having an army of several hundred thousand scattered to the winds. It was almost unthinkable.

The village on the opposite bank was deserted — it looked like no one had been there for at least several months. This group of the old camp found a spot by the water to settle down. After night fell, a crowd of roving bandits sat around a campfire, sighing without cease.

They had thought this time would be like before — sweeping everything before them. Who could have imagined it would turn out like this?

In truth, Zhang Nai didn't want to return to the main camp at all. Sometimes he genuinely felt that being out here, carefree and untroubled, was better. As Liu Zongmin's number one man and Li Zicheng's adopted son, there were many matters he had to handle.

When Liu Zongmin's subordinates had matters, they would come to consult Zhang Nai. To facilitate the integration of Liu's forces with Li Zicheng's own troops, he also had to mediate between the two sides. Sometimes forced to do things that went against the brotherhood of their original uprising, he truly felt utterly weary of it all.

Such a great defeat was unprecedented in these past few years of fighting. If he simply returned like this, there would be no peace tonight. Being punished was secondary — Zhang Nai knew well that when they got back, none of the generals in the tent would accept the others' authority, and it would be another scene of bickering.

The more of this he experienced, the more disgusted he became. Thinking of this, Zhang Nai tore off his helmet and tossed it at his feet, saying with a grim expression:

"Those still by my side now are the brothers I, Zhang Nai, trust most. Since we are brothers, only by speaking plainly can we ensure no one gets the short end. To be honest — I don't want to go back."

The moment these words left Zhang Nai's mouth, the atmosphere among the old camp men around him suddenly grew much closer.

In truth, having fought side by side for so many years, the feelings between them had long surpassed ordinary brotherhood — there was no longer any distinction of rank. The old camp man who had first spoken by the water was startled, glanced at those seated around him, and nodded:

"Don't worry, Master Zhang. We brothers all understand how things work. We won't talk out of turn. Wherever you go, we'll follow!"

Hearing the familiar form of address, Zhang Nai's eyes grew a bit moist. He called out a few times, gathering the men close around him, and asked with a somewhat chilled heart: "Old Fifth, how many years have you followed me?"

The old camp man who had spoken first was taken aback, then answered honestly: "Master Zhang, five years now!"

"Mm, five years — you're still on the low end!" Zhang Nai nodded, then shouted at the top of his lungs: "The dozen or so men who first followed me, Master Zhang — they're all dead, not a single one left. That was over ten years ago now! And we've fought the government troops back and forth for over ten years — what have we gained?"

"Back then we shouted 'the Dashing King has come, no more grain levies!' But that military advisor who coined our slogans? He's long since gone to the capital to work for the Emperor. And look at Shanxi now — have the lives of the folks back home improved? Not one bit. Instead they've only gotten poorer!"

As he spoke, a hint of sobbing and indignation crept into Zhang Nai's voice. He continued:

"We brothers have fought the government troops for over ten years. Our families killed for being implicated in the rebellion, those who died fighting to carve out a kingdom for the Dashing King, and those who died today — to be honest, if not several hundred thousand, then at least a hundred thousand or more. I've had enough of this kind of life!"

The men below were first stunned, then nodded one after another and quickly chimed in with agreement. In truth, what Zhang Nai had said today was long the view of these old camp veterans. Everyone present had already come to regret their original decision to join the rebellion.

"Then, Master Zhang, what do you plan to do?" After the old camp man who had first spoken asked this, those still murmuring around quickly fell silent, waiting for the decision of the man at the center.

Zhang Nai's eyes darted around, as if he had made up his mind about something. He gritted his teeth and said:

"After all these years following the Dashing King and the Marquis, I, Zhang Nai, have done my utmost — I've fulfilled every obligation. It's time to think of a way out for my family and children. I can't let them carry the stigma of being bandits forever!"

"Brothers — any of you willing to follow me, Master Zhang, in defecting to the government forces, stand up!"