Chapter 89: A Hole in the Jar

Seeing this, even the dullest Shun soldier patrolling the city wall understood what was happening. The timid ones turned and ran straight back, while others began scurrying about in panic.

Most faces were shocked, but those assigned to defend the city were veterans after all — after so long, even if they'd never eaten pork, they'd seen a pig run.

Though flames lit up all four sides of the night, this wasn't a scene they hadn't witnessed before. After the initial terror, many began to steady themselves, organizing resistance on one hand while dispatching riders to report the matter to Liu Fangliang, who was resting in the county yamen.

"The officers are launching a night raid!"

"Quick, report to General Liu!"

The roving bandit scout who'd just been shot down was brought low by Huang Degong's three-dan bow. Before battle he was fond of drinking a full jar of yellow wine to bolster his spirit, and his unique method of raising morale in combat was precisely to begin by shooting bandits.

Seeing their commander so valiant, the Ming troops naturally gave the roving bandits no chance to catch their breath. Emerging from the shadows, they set simple scaling ladders against the crenellations of the military pay and provisions county city wall.

The front-rank soldiers bit their blades with their teeth. As they climbed the ladders, another squad of foot archers immediately reached the foot of the wall. These bowmen drew and nocked, taking aim at the bandits atop the wall and loosing sudden arrows.

"Swish, swish, swish—"

The Ming foot archers were clearly not as powerful as the Tartars beyond the passes. Even though these men had been carefully selected, their arrows still fell sparse and scattered — mostly each man picking his own target and firing at will, with little coordination between them. It could hardly be called a rain of arrows.

The Chongzhen Emperor had previously ordered a count made: of the firearms brought along, only three thousand were truly usable.

Those that might suffer barrel bursts or misfires like in the movies had already been sent back to the Armory Bureau and Ordnance Bureau for recasting. The Chongzhen Emperor was quite pleased at first — having three thousand usable pieces exceeded his expectations.

But then cold water was poured on his head: these three thousand-odd usable firearms weren't all the bird-gun muskets he'd imagined. A large portion were crude earth guns and three-eyed hand cannons.

The three-eyed hand cannon did have some power — the Guanning cavalry under Wu Sangui were mostly equipped with them. But there were differences between three-eyed hand cannons too: Wu Sangui's were forged by Liaodong artisan households at his own expense, all the newest models.

Not a single coin of court money was used — in fact, the court had no money to give anyway.

The ones the Chongzhen Emperor had scrounged from nearby guard stations mostly bore Tianqi and Wanli reign marks on their barrels, and a small portion even dated from the Jiajing era.

Never mind their combat effectiveness — the Chongzhen Emperor himself didn't dare touch these things, afraid they'd fall apart at a single grasp. How could he issue them to his soldiers?

The earth guns were even less worth mentioning — they were generally used by farmers to scare off mountain bandits. Against anyone wearing a decent set of armor they could barely break through; they had virtually no combat power at all.

In other words, at least in this battle, the bird-gun muskets and various firearms would prove useless. Selecting foot archers was far more practical. As for the firearms, that could be dealt with after the fighting was done.

Fortunately, Huang Degong's subordinates were seasoned veterans, and the Shenwu Army had been drilled long and hard — no small number could draw a bow and shoot at distance.

The Ming army had many advantages. Familiarity with the terrain inside and outside the city was one — the army included military pay and provisions's own Company Commanders and Battalion Commanders, and even some local soldiers, all of whom had explained in detail the heights of the battlements and walls before the battle.

In this era, training a qualified foot archer was extremely difficult. Even among Huang Degong's men, those skilled at drawing the bow weren't numerous. Adding the Shenwu Army, only a little over a thousand foot archers could meet the long-range requirement.

The Chongzhen Emperor assigned all these thousand-plus passable foot archers to Huang Degong. It wasn't favoritism — their quality was mediocre to begin with, so of course they had to be clenched into a single rope to unleash their fighting power.

Many military commanders understood this reasoning and naturally said nothing. The Chongzhen Emperor was a modern man, so before battle he would of course formulate detailed plans together with the various Regional Commanders and Guard Commanders.

The Ming troops at the other gates were mainly feinting; Huang Degong's position was the true key to breaking the deadlock.

Huang Degong normally threw caution to the wind in battle, always charging to the front line. But this time he didn't — he only listened intently at the city gate for what was happening within.

As Ming troops flooded onto the city wall, a brutal close-quarters battle erupted. At first the government forces seemed to hold the advantage of surprise, but it didn't last — more roving bandits appeared to reinforce, and government casualties began to mount.

After the space of an incense stick, facing mounting losses among his men, Huang Degong could wait no longer. Just as he was about to personally scale the wall and storm the city, the gate suddenly opened a small crack from within.

The crack grew wider and wider, and a group of roving bandits wielding horse sabers appeared before the government troops. At their head was none other than Huzi, who had surrendered at the Huangcun camp just days before.

Huzi waved his hand and said something, and the bandits threw their blades and spears to the ground with a clatter before the officers' eyes. Huzi stepped forward a few paces, clasped his fists, knelt, and shouted:

"Your guilty subject Wang Hu greets the government army's entry into the city!"

"Greetings to the government army entering the city!" The bandits hurriedly followed suit, clearing a path straight to 'Rome' for Huang Degong and the Ming troops outside.

All doubt now gone from his heart, Huang Degong bent over with two laughs, helped Wang Hu to his feet, raised his blade, and shouted loudly:

"Capture Liu Fangliang alive!!"

"Capture Liu Fangliang alive!!"

When Liu Fangliang groggily received the urgent reports from all four city walls, his entire mind went blank.

His Dashun had marched with a million men, victorious in every battle, taking every city they encountered. The Ming army were usually worthless scum who couldn't even hold their cities — how could they possibly dare abandon the capital's defense to come besiege him?

Come to think of it, Liu Fangliang himself couldn't remember the last time he'd met Ming troops daring enough to fight him in the open field. When the first gate's defender came to report, he paid it no mind. But then messengers from every gate came back one after another, and only then did he realize something was terribly wrong.

Hearing the sudden cries of slaughter around him, Liu Fangliang turned to look again and found his trusted chieftains all lying dead drunk on the ground, barely able to stir, let alone take the field.

In truth, Liu Fangliang himself was half-drunk. He'd barely taken a few steps before he uncontrollably toppled sideways — only his personal guards' timely support kept him upright.

After struggling in place for a good while, Liu Fangliang slapped his forehead. Hearing a burst of cheering from the south, and seeing more bandits fleeing in panic to his position, he knew the matter was beyond saving — and seethed with indignation.

The Chongzhen Emperor's trick of luring the tiger into the jar was played with great skill — no one had seen it coming. But amid his grief and fury, Liu Fangliang still clearly recognized the urgent priority. Pushing aside his guards' support, he gave the order:

"Transmit this general's command: have Chief Nie lead the refugee camp to reinforce the four gates. You — go tell the Old Camp to return to the county yamen."

Liu Fangliang's first order, reinforcing the four gates, was correct. But the latter part was highly intriguing.

The Old Camp had always been the main force of the roving army — these men were bandits through and through. The very idea of them surrendering simply didn't exist.

These Old Camp soldiers had fought north and south in the Dashing King's camp since Gao Yingxiang's time, bandit habits bred into their very bones. By the reckoning of certain later-day 'experts,' their combat power might even approach the armored infantry of the Tartar Qing beyond the passes.

Many a time Li Zicheng was beaten down to a bare commander, only to sweep up thousands upon thousands wherever he went — it was these Old Camp soldiers working their mischief.

For Dashun, the Old Camp troops totaling over a hundred thousand were the very foundation — Liu Fangliang understood this naturally.

Calling back his own twenty thousand Old Camp soldiers at a moment like this showed that Liu Fangliang had no intention of fighting to the death with the government forces here. After hesitating for several moments, his personal guard also made up his mind and ran out to relay the order.

"Bring that squire surnamed Zhou and his whole family here! I don't believe this military pay and provisions only has four gates to get out of!"

Before long, a dozen or so men and women crept timidly into the county yamen. Seeing the ferocious looks of the bandits around them, and hearing the fierce fighting outside the city, they understood at once what had happened.

"The government army actually counterattacked?"