Chapter 122: The Invisible Thread

In the camp on Mount Jiapao, the leaders of Liu's force stayed awake nearly the entire night.

Liu Chengzu and Cao Yao in particular sat in the makeshift central command tent of cotton cloth, listening to a mounted scout relay news from the other side, their faces etched with exhaustion.

After Liu Chengzong left in the afternoon, they had fought twice more on this side, both times keeping their distance without engaging.

The troops of the various leaders took turns advancing to form battle lines. With Luo Rucai's example set before them, the soldiers who later went up to array themselves were not as fearful.

Three volleys of cannon fire had killed only sixteen men, barely exceeding the number Luo Rucai's men had managed to keep from dying.

The remaining squad leaders and bandit soldiers all nursed a stubborn grudge in their hearts: If those beggars could do it, why can't you?

In a muddled, haphazard way, Li Bei, without ever knowing it himself, became the drill instructor for these leaders, feeding his battle formations to their troops one by one.

Li Wanqing's unit, Liu Guoneng's unit, Liu Chengzu's main unit, Gao Yingxiang's unit — even Wang Ziyong's unit was hauled up to stand there for a while.

All bathed in the sparse cannon fire, they began to overcome their fear of artillery on the battlefield.

At most, a unit lost sixteen men; at least, a unit lost just two. Instead, they managed to expend eighteen heavy cannonballs from Li Bei's force.

But that expenditure was an illusion.

As soon as darkness fell, both sides ceased fighting. Li Bei sent men out again to sneak over and retrieve the cannonballs. Liu Chengzu only discovered this when they were halfway done, which then triggered the first close-quarters clash after a full day of standoff.

A dozen or so cavalrymen from Li Bei's force went to collect the cannonballs, and over thirty riders from the Chuang unit intercepted them. Both sides suffered casualties.

In the end, Li Bei started playing games in the night. Relying on the long range of his heavy cannons, he fired a shot toward Mount Jiapao every so often, then sent another dozen riders creeping a little closer this way.

Cao Yao had a strong vindictive streak. The moment he saw Li Bei trying to use exhaustion tactics against them, he immediately discussed with Liu Chengzu and struck back with the same.

Each unit took turns withdrawing to the north side of the mountain to sleep, leaving two units and over a hundred riders from the Chuang unit on standby.

Three falconet cannons were hauled down the mountain, loaded onto carts, and pushed to within one li of Li Bei's camp. They didn't even unload the flatbed carts — they simply braced the cart tails with timber and fired, then hitched up the horses and fled the moment they were done.

They had no choice; their cannons had short range.

Otherwise, they sent riders galloping near Li Bei's camp to loose a few arrows, racing and whooping — the point was simply to deny them sleep.

The aim was, on one hand, to exhaust them, and on the other, to deplete Li Bei's gunpowder and cannonballs in preparation for the next day's major battle.

Perhaps because he placed great confidence in Liu Guozhen's force, Li Bei refused to be outdone and threw himself into the exhaustion effort with equal vigor, firing a shot every so often. He even imitated Cao Yao, pushing a rocket cart called Hundred Tigers Charging Together down the hill and loosing swishing volleys of rockets up the mountain.

The two sides spent the entire night harming each other in this way.

It caused no real damage to anyone, but it did harm a single small tree struggling to survive the drought on Mount Jiapao.

Snapped in half at the trunk, its few remaining withered leaves lay scattered on the ground — a truly pitiful sight.

The mounted messenger from Shangtianhou's unit arrived just when they were at their most exhausted. The sudden news of the battle situation to the west made both their hearts leap into their throats. They stood up together, and fell silent together.

Neither dared to be the first to ask the outcome.

Finally, Cao Yao extended a hand and said, "Squad Leader Liu, you ask."

Only then did Liu Chengzu nod and tell the mounted messenger to speak.

"We went to raid the camp at night. General Liu was behind the enemy. After encircling them, we defeated them. The General's four sentry companies lost one man killed and over ten wounded. We lost over a hundred killed and over four hundred wounded. The government troops suffered fewer than two hundred casualties; the rest all surrendered."

When he heard the very end — that the government troops had all surrendered — Liu Chengzu and Cao Yao exchanged a glance and let their suspended hearts settle back into their bellies. "We won."

Cao Yao stepped forward to look at this mounted messenger and thought to himself that this lad had also stayed up all night, just like him. A swell of goodwill rose in his heart.

He asked gently, "The General's four sentry companies — are they now camped by the Yan River sleeping? Did he say when he would come over?"

"He should be arriving soon," the mounted messenger said. "The General requisitioned four hundred mules. He said they'd sleep on the road riding the mules, and they set out as soon as the battle ended. He sent me to report to all the leaders: the General will follow the government troops' line of march for forty-eight li. When battle begins today, wave a red flag in front of the formation, and he will lead his troops charging out from the enemy's flank."

"Oh, right — the General's mules can't cross the mountains. Once battle starts, he asks the various leaders to send some riders to bring warhorses and long weapons over to support him."

Liu Chengzu nodded. Cao Yao simply walked outside to face the mountain wind, gazing at the eastern sky where the first pale light was showing, clenching his fist as if psyching himself up for the great fight ahead.

Not long after, Liu Chengzu settled the mounted messenger down to find a place to rest.

Chengzu stepped out of the command tent, let out a laugh at the sight of Cao Yao's back, and said with a serious face, "How about you? No sleep all night — can you still fight another battle today?"

"What are you saying? I may not have slept, but my soldiers did... As long as Li Bei can still fight, I can keep fighting him to the end!"

Liu Chengzu gave a snort of laughter and said no more. He turned and went back into the central command tent, picked up his brush, and began recording his reflections on this battle in his book.

This was not only Liu Chengzong's first time commanding a large-scale operation; for Liu Chengzu, Cao Yao, and the others, it was the same.

They — these squad leaders, elite household retainers, starving refugees, mountain bandits, and robbers — were a motley mob.

But this motley mob had endured cannon fire like drawing life-or-death lots, and now stood as proper soldiers, arrayed against government troops in the river valley.

To Liu Chengzu, all of this was terrifyingly perilous.

So perilous that every time they came under cannon fire, his heart leaped into his throat. Had Li Bei's resolve been even a fraction firmer — had he launched an assault regardless of his flank — they would have, to some degree, lost their position.

But now, by the light of burning linseed oil, Liu Chengzu lifted his brush and wrote nine characters in his book.

In all warfare, engage with the orthodox, and win with the unorthodox.

He had known this line years ago when he studied in Mizhi County. That year, Lion had asked a southbound merchant to buy The Plum in the Golden Vase, while he had asked his father to buy The Art of War in Mizhi.

But having read it did not mean he knew how to use it. For a very long time, Liu Chengzu had thought this line meant to fight in an upright, honorable manner and use cunning stratagems to achieve victory.

It was not until yesterday, standing on the ridge watching enemy cannon fire roar and tear the first three ranks of soldiers to bloody pulp, that he understood what this line truly meant.

Engage with the orthodox, win with the unorthodox: use the orthodox to cancel out the enemy's orthodox; what remains is the unorthodox — the "odd" number, the surplus.

The so-called orthodox engaging force must deploy its battle lines at the front of the battlefield, drawing and resisting the enemy's main strength. This force is a dam; its soldiers are the earth and stone, endlessly repeating simple, tedious, and brutal work.

Advance. Halt. Swear to die rather than retreat.

And the so-called unorthodox winning force can be a reserve, or it can be a detached force on the outer flank.

The detached force must be elite, able to move rapidly outside the main battlefield, eliminate or evade the enemy's detached forces, support the main battlefield's operations, and further break through the enemy's battle lines when the orthodox forces are locked in mutual struggle.

This was the art of war Liu Chengzu had learned from Li Bei.

The fortunes of men cannot be compared. Had their family circumstances been just a little better, perhaps that merchant back then would have bought Liu Chengzu a copy of The Art of War with Cao Cao's commentary.

That book explicitly records Cao Cao's two definitions of the orthodox and the unorthodox.

The first to emerge and engage is the orthodox; the one to emerge later is the unorthodox.

The orthodox force confronts the enemy; the unorthodox force strikes from the flank, catching them unprepared.

The orthodox force and the unorthodox force can transform into each other. Today, they are the orthodox force. Tomorrow, if Liu Chengzong's troops engage Li Bei first and they then sweep in from all sides to kill, then Liu Chengzong will be the orthodox force, and they will be the unorthodox.

Liu Chengzu set down his brush, pulled open the tent flap, and the cold night wind rushed against his face. He gazed toward the distant horizon, where white light was spreading along the edges of the mountain shadows.

"Today, we take the offensive."

In the central command tent on the other side of the battlefield, scattered letters covered the floor.

Li Bei sat on the felt rug, also sleepless through the night. His energy was still vigorous as he stared raptly at the map.

Among the letters strewn across the ground were his calculations of the advance speeds of the government forces under Wu Weifan in the Qingyang direction and the detached division under Liu Guozhen.

Ma Ke lifted the tent curtain and stood to one side. "General, it's daylight. The bandit troops have formed five battle arrays and are digging trenches in front of their lines."

Li Bei nodded, pounded his legs sore from sitting so long, and could not help but rise and look westward. "General Liu should be setting out by now. How much ammunition is left?"

"We rationed it through the night. The remaining gunpowder is enough for six full salvos from the camp's cannons."

Li Bei held victory firmly in hand, and his words were brimming with confidence. "Use three general cannons to sharpen their nerves again. Fire twice. Save all the remaining powder. Load all four breech-loading falconets with scatter shot. We attack in one shichen."

After resting and waiting through yesterday, the bandit troops had not fled, which meant they too were gathering strength, trying to resist stubbornly.

This suited Li Bei's plans perfectly.

Had they formed up for battle anywhere else, he would have struck long ago. But here, routing the enemy in a single blow before completing the encirclement brought no advantage.

Winning was easy — kill a few hundred, and several thousand routed bandits would scatter across the land. By next spring, Yan'an Prefecture would still be crawling with bandits; the only difference would be a new bandit chief.

Only by completing the encirclement and trapping the bandits in the valley — whether by slaughter or pacification — could he prevent them from escaping.

By now, the bandit troops had grown accustomed to his rhythm of firing three cannons separately and in salvo. But his firepower was not limited to that. Once they closed to melee range, a single salvo from over ten light and heavy cannons would be certain to shatter any one of the enemy's formations.

The moment one formation was smashed, a gap would open in the line for a deep thrust. Even an army of ten thousand could not withstand a charge of several hundred men.

Drive them northward, and when they regrouped, Liu Guozhen would lead his troops south to block them — only then could the campaign be settled in a single battle.

Moments later, the three thousand-jin general cannons at the front roared.

Cooking smoke rose within the camp as they set up stoves and prepared meals for the coming battle. Soldiers leading horses out of camp gazed across at the enemy. The bandits did not return fire with their own cannons; their massed formations were digging trenches and building up their lines.

On the morning before the decisive battle, the river valley was eerily quiet. Only the wind sweeping across the valley stirred the golden millet fields, setting off a vast rustling sound.

Liu Chengzu rode through each troop formation, instructing every unit to adopt the hollow square formation commonly used by the Ming army, with soldiers on the outside and officers in the center. He then returned to the central command, conferred with several leaders, and they dispersed to direct their forces.

In truth, the instruction was mainly for Luo Rucai.

When the two formations were far apart, that fellow could stand at the front and put on a show of bravado, leaving his fate to the heavens in a reckless display of courage.

But in face-to-face combat, an officer could stand at the front — the commander-in-chief absolutely could not.

After all, they were not under each other's command. Every square formation of four to five hundred men had its own leader. If that leader died, no one could command that unit.

With government troops it was different. Even if the squad commander fell, a battalion commander or even a colonel was behind to steady the line. The unit would not simply collapse and flee.

Six infantry square formations, arranged four in front and two behind, advanced in a horizontal press that nearly filled the width of the river valley.

In front were Luo Rucai, Liu Guoneng, Li Wanqing, and Wang Ziyong. Behind, holding the line, were Gao Ying'en and Liu Chengzu.

The left wing was Gao Yingxiang's cavalry, the right wing Zhang Tianlin's cavalry. All units advanced straight and level.

"General, the bandit troops have formed up."

Li Bei swept his gaze across the enemy lines, glanced up at the color of the sky, signaled the flag-bearer to wave the banner, and turned his head. "A bit early, but no matter. They can't escape now. Assemble the troops."

Horn calls rose one after another from the government camp. Frontier soldiers filed out from within, and two squad-commander units of government troops likewise formed a hollow square.

Artillerymen pushed the heavy general cannons and the rapid-fire breech-loading falconets to the front.

On all four outer sides of the square, artillerymen handling portable squat cannons, small breech-loading falconets, and crouching-tiger cannons were mixed with arquebusiers and archers. Pikemen stood behind them for protection. Some mounted troops inside the formation led their horses in ranks, guarding the officers as they advanced slowly.

More government cavalry spread out beyond the formation, conducting a final battlefield reconnaissance of the flanks and rear before the battle began, searching for any enemies that might appear behind or before them.

Compared to the peasant army's battle array, the government army's formation looked far too small.

Yet their advancing steps were far more resolute.

When the two armies closed to five hundred paces, government cavalry rode out from the formation, waving flags. The army halted. The three general cannons adjusted their angles and fired upon one of the enemy formations.

Boom!

Three solid iron cannonballs whistled across the battlefield, hurtling toward Liu Guoneng's unit. One slammed into the ground in front of the formation; two struck within it, gouging out two bloody paths.

The formation rioted and halted, then resumed its advance moments later.

Small gaps appeared in the peasant army's forward line. Tian Shoujing, an officer Liu Chengzu had placed at the front, galloped with several riders along the battle line, ordering the remaining three formations to slow their pace and realign the line evenly.

The left-wing cavalry of Gao Ying'en's unit halted at the same time, but the right-wing cavalry of Zhang Tianlin's unit did not stop, continuing their direct advance.

The government troops stood firm in place, their five-meter pikes bristling on all four sides. Artillerymen swiftly cleaned the barrels of the general cannons.

The crews of the breech-loading falconets also dismounted their guns. Five breech blocks, each weighing dozens of jin, were laid in a row on the right side of the cannon. On the left sat a water bucket, with cloths set down and soaked, as they entered battle readiness.

"General!"

The cavalry patrolling outside contracted toward the army formation. A lone rider dismounted, slipped through a gap into the formation, and prostrated himself, pointing south. "General..."

Li Bei saw him hesitate to speak and ordered him forward. The cavalryman whispered in his ear: "Behind our formation, infantry are crossing the mountains and now forming up at the foot of the hills. It is not General Liu's force."

Not General Liu?

Li Bei waved the cavalryman back out to scout again and closed his eyes in the central command, his mind racing.

Had Liu Guozhen been defeated?

Or had the bandits also dispatched a roving unit at the same time Liu Guozhen set out, and the two forces had missed each other in the mountains?

A moment later, he opened his eyes.

This was bad.

The presence of an enemy to his rear meant he could not pursue the enemy before him.

The bandits' right-wing cavalry was already closing in to outflank him. Whatever was happening behind his lines, he could not move his formation now. He could only shatter one enemy formation first, then turn back and await battle.

"Bandit troops' four formations at two hundred paces!"

The artillery officer at the front waved the command flag down. The three general cannons roared again, their target still Liu Guoneng's square formation.

This time, all three cannonballs plowed through the formation. Amid the shrieking, they carved out trail after trail of blood, throwing the square formation — which had only just steadied its nerves — into chaos once more.

They did not retreat. This formation had already realized they were being singled out by the enemy artillery. No one else was being hit — only them.

Several squad leaders crowded around Liu Guoneng in agitation: "Chief, if we keep dawdling like this, they might be fine, but we'll all be dead!"

Liu Guoneng clenched his fists, his scalp tightening. With a sharp ring, he drew his waist saber, stepped forward, and declared, "We advance!"

Liu Guoneng's formation, positioned on the left of the two central formations, began pushing forward before Tian Shoujing, who was maintaining the formation, could arrive. In moments, they left their allies behind.

This spurred the remaining three formations to quicken their pace as well, and the peasant army's grand horizontal formation fell into disarray.

The government troops made no move, except for a single whistling arrow that shrieked across several dozen paces and landed in the millet field between the two formations.

People stared at that invisible line, their breathing growing heavier and heavier.

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