Chapter 139: The Great Ming Set Back Thirty Years

Soon, all the various matters before departure were settled.

On the sixteenth day of the second month of the third year of Chongzhen, Liu Chengzong spurred his horse by the Apricot River bank, glanced back once at the land he had for the first time thought to manage long-term, and led his army east.

Yang Yao, serving as the vanguard, also returned with his troops from Ning Subprefecture in Qingyang Prefecture. His unit's haul was disappointing — only twenty-some deserters from Guyuan had joined.

It seemed the Guyuan Garrison had previously deserted so badly that the remaining soldiers could now eat their fill. When they followed Regional Commander Yang Qi to serve the king, hardly any fell behind.

And the other big fish they had imagined, the king-serving army from Gansu Garrison, seemed to be marching even slower than Wu Zimian.

Yang Yao only received word from that direction just before regrouping. They had overestimated the border troops' endurance.

On a six-thousand-li march to serve the king, the Gansu Garrison's vanguard advanced three hundred li, and the follow-up troops advanced two hundred li, before they mutinied at Anding County in Gongchang Prefecture. The leader Wang Jincai led soldiers to kill Mobile Corps Commander Sun Huaizhong, seized the baggage train and silver, and led the troops back west to the Lanzhou main camp.

Ahead of them was Grand Coordinator Mei Zhihuan, who, shocked by news of the mutiny, had no choice but to turn the vanguard back to Lanzhou to suppress it.

Upon receiving this news, Yang Yao no longer wanted to wait.

Their thinking had been sound, their planning quite meticulous — they had calculated that a king-serving army marching six thousand li was bound to mutiny.

It did mutiny.

But they mutinied after just two hundred li — he could not reach them at all.

That meant the opportunity was gone. Once a unit sets out, mutinies, gets suppressed, and sets out again, the odds of a second mutiny are extremely low.

As Liu Chengzong's forces advanced toward Shanxi through Yan'an Prefecture, a thousand li away in the critical capital region, Yan'an Guard Commander Yang Yanchang was shivering from the cold.

Yang Yanchang had been in Ji Garrison for some time now and had witnessed firsthand the court's chaotic command situation.

By his assessment, the command ability the court had displayed in this war was no better than that of the northern Shaanxi bandit horde that had fought Li Bei to a decisive battle at the Yan River bend.

To put it simply, it was slightly better than having no command at all.

Yuan Chonghuan, Man Gui, Zhao Shuailiao, Sun Zushou, and others were either imprisoned or killed in battle. Man Gui, who had served as the supreme coordinator of military affairs, died in battle, directly leaving the various armies without coordinated command.

Though even if Man Gui were alive it would not have mattered much, because the subsequently dispatched veteran western army general Ma Shilong, appointed as supreme coordinator, was equally unable to unify the various king-serving armies.

For a time, the capital region formed a bizarre equilibrium, as if a line had been drawn across the ground.

On one side, the various king-serving armies massed at Ji Garrison. Basically, everyone was shuffled back and forth; some even led troops to serve the king only to find there was no food, so they turned around, went back to eat, and then returned.

On the other side were the Later Jin troops who had invaded to plunder people and goods. They occupied the prefectural seat of Yongping Prefecture, as well as the four cities of Luanzhou, Qian'an, and Zunhua, striving desperately to sever the link between the court and Shanhai Pass — and failed.

They attacked Funing but could not take it in four days; they turned and struck Changli, only to be blocked outside the city by the combined efforts of Magistrate Zuo Yingxuan and Garrison Commander Shi Zhu.

In all this time, the court's army had launched only a single offensive battle.

That day, Yang Yanchang was right beside Wu Zimian. They were discussing what to do if the court stopped providing provisions later.

A man named Liu Zhilun entered the camp, saying he was going to retake Zunhua.

It was not that he wanted to lead eight battalions to retake Zunhua.

He had simply requested the court to dispatch the capital garrison to assist — the court refused. He then submitted a memorial requesting the fierce Sichuan general Deng Qi, who had beheaded An Bangyan, to assist — the court refused again.

When Liu Zhilun entered Wu Zimian's encampment in Ji Prefecture, the man looked truly wretched.

It had snowed the night before last. He had led his troops past Tong Prefecture, but Tong Prefecture would not let him through the gates, so he had no choice but to lead his army through the snow and spend the night in a ruined temple before coming to Ji Prefecture to seek an audience with Wu Zimian.

Liu Zhilun explained the situation and said to Wu Zimian, "If all goes smoothly and I can retake Zunhua, I hope Marshal Wu will lend me a hand by shifting his forces to the banks of the Luan River to block the eastern barbarians' reinforcements."

Wu Zimian pondered for a moment, then rose and bowed with clasped hands. "Rest assured, Vice Minister. As long as the court provides sufficient provisions and pay, I shall certainly move my troops to the Luan River. Even if no provisions are given, should your assault fail, Vice Minister, simply fall back, and we of the western army will surely help block them for you."

Liu Zhilun understood. He sighed once and said no more. Two steps out of the central army tent, he turned back in the falling snow, cupped his hands in a bow, and departed.

Yang Yanchang, listening at the side, felt his heart pound with alarm. He thought to himself, with so many troops stationed here, could it really fall to us to go into battle? This luck is worse than half bad!

But watching Liu Zhilun's bold, swaggering back as he strode out of the camp, Yang Yanchang felt greatly stirred and said to Wu Zimian, "Marshal Wu, are we going to send troops to fight the eastern barbarians?"

Wu Zimian leisurely sat back down, turned his head, and looked at him as if he were an idiot. "Which of your ears heard me say I was sending troops?"

"He, just now…"

Yang Yanchang was momentarily tongue-tied. "Wasn't that man a Vice Minister of War? Didn't Marshal Wu also say he would help block them?"

"Block my ass. You saw me bow to him — that was bowing to a dead man. Never mind a Vice Minister of War, even if he were the Minister of War, I'd still have to listen to Ma Shilong."

Wu Zimian still held a rather favorable impression of Yang Yanchang and admonished him, "You heard what he said too. 'If all goes smoothly and I retake Zunhua.' He recruited over ten thousand new troops to form eight battalions, all city-dwellers from the capital, drilled for less than a month. Can that possibly go smoothly?"

"D-drilled for less than a month?"

Yang Yanchang mulled it over — that's even worse than my troops.

"A young fellow, given an official post by the Emperor, wants to repay the debt of recognition. With all the king-serving armies encamped here, they'll be seen as watching each other and fearing to advance on the enemy."

Wu Zimian's expression was complex, a mix of contempt and admiration. He shook his head. "A man like that, knowing full well it's a dead end yet still charging ahead — I admire him. But if anyone wants me to do the same? I'll kill him first."

As he spoke, he turned his head to look at Yang Yanchang. "You're not thinking of persuading me to send troops, are you?"

Yang Yanchang shook his head like a rattle-drum.

"Good that you're not." Wu Zimian chuckled lightly. "Your life is still long — don't be in a hurry to die. Watch slowly; there are plenty of strange and bizarre things yet to come."

Wu Zimian had never wanted to come serve the king. It was only that the transfer order had landed in his hands and he could not evade it.

He had originally planned to dawdle as much as possible on the road, delay for some time, and only reach the capital region by the third month, by which time the fighting would be over and he could simply lead his troops back. He had never expected that Zhang Mengjing would be angered to death by him.

Had Zhang Mengjing managed to live just a few more days, he would never have arrived this early.

Strange and bizarre things?

Yang Yanchang thought to himself, my coming to serve the king is already strange and bizarre enough.

But he had not expected Wu Zimian to immediately follow with, "I don't care what you're here for — don't cause me any trouble."

These words made Yang Yanchang's heart lurch violently, and his face went pale. "Marshal Wu, what do you mean by that? I don't understand."

In truth, Wu Zimian had long since noticed something off about this commander.

From the very first day he met Yang Yanchang, he had noticed this commander had serious issues.

From banner officers to banner troops, their weapons were polished to a gleaming shine, their riveted armor bore no rust, their mandarin-duck battle jackets had no patches, and every single man wore shoes.

The banner troops' morale and bearing were excellent — lean and strong, high-spirited, hardy and hardworking.

Passing through civilian fields and homes, they committed no offense whatsoever.

This Yan'an Guard unit, from head to toe, looked in every respect like a garrison banner force of remarkably high standard.

In a daze, Wu Zimian felt as if he had traveled back to his earliest days as a soldier.

The Great Ming had regressed thirty years across the board.

What was especially striking was that Yang Yanchang wasn't even greedy. Wu Zimian had ordered him to restrain deserters, yet when fleeing soldiers tried to bribe him with silver, he actually refused to take it.

Was that normal?

Was that reasonable?

In three years, the imperial court had issued less than thirty percent of the military pay due to Yansui Garrison. Among the officers leading troops, there wasn't a single one who wasn't corrupt.

Those purely out for themselves had to be corrupt;

those brimming with patriotic fervor had to be even more corrupt!

What gave you, Yang Yanchang, the right not to be corrupt? What gave your soldiers the right not to loot?

This wasn't something that integrity or discipline alone could decide.

It came down to having the means, to looking down on such paltry sums, to your soldiers looking down on the common folk's meager grain stores.

Wu Zimian, certain of his own insight, leaned back slightly, his demeanor relaxed. "What does it mean? Either Liu Chengzong is a bandit you've been raising, or you yourself are a bandit."

Yang Yanchang's entire body went rigid. Forcing himself to stay composed, he said, "Heh, Marshal Wu, why would you joke about such a thing?"

"I'm not reporting you to the authorities, so what are you afraid of?"

Wu Zimian shot Yang Yanchang a contemptuous glance. This man's courage was far smaller than he had imagined; he probably couldn't pull off something like harboring bandits to bolster his own importance. He waved a hand dismissively. "You rushed here to serve the king — what exactly are you trying to do?"

Hearing that Wu Zimian wouldn't report him, Yang Yanchang felt a little relieved, but then feared Wu Zimian might be tricking him into a confession. He said, "This humble officer was dispatched to serve the king on the orders of Supreme Commander Yang."

"Nonsense. I was the one who requested it — you think I don't know?"

Wu Zimian continued, "I called for your Yan'an Guard because I wanted more men, so I could ask the court for grain. My original plan was to send you back once we got the grain. I never expected the Yan'an Guard to have banner troops like these... First, tell me: is Liu Chengzong a bandit you've been raising?"

Yang Yanchang shook his head with complete honesty.

"Then you yourself are a bandit?"

Yang Yanchang thought it over, remained just as honest, and shook his head again.

He'd been seen through anyway, so he had no intention of deceiving Wu Zimian.

It was just that, after examining himself three times over, the closest he'd ever come to being a bandit was stealing a Churning Pearl Cannon from the Yan'an Guard.

That probably didn't even qualify as being a bandit.

Thinking it over again from every angle, Liu Chengzong truly wasn't a bandit he had been raising.

At the very most, you could say he was a Commandant being raised by Liu Chengzong.

But to have someone say that out loud was truly too embarrassing to speak of.

So Yang Yanchang added one more line: "Marshal Wu, this humble officer truly hasn't deceived you."

The old Chief Commander Wu let out a soft chuckle. "Then what are you using to support your troops?"

Yang Yanchang was at a loss for words, and nearly couldn't hold back a laugh. He raised a hand to cover his mouth and hide the smile, then said, "This humble officer's subordinates are all capable people."

His soldiers didn't need him to support them!

He didn't even know who all the soldiers registered in the Yan'an Guard were.

Today this one would come to recover from an injury, tomorrow that one would come to repair weapons, the day after someone from Liu Family Village would come to help transport provisions — the entire guard station ran itself automatically, needing no intervention from him.

Whenever trouble arose, someone would naturally come to call him: General Yang, it's time to fight.

He never needed to say a word; someone would naturally drape his armor over him, thrust a long spear into his hand, set him on horseback, and lead him to the battlefield.

The enemy would block his path ahead, his troops would form ranks behind him, and then he would spur his horse forward, sweeping aside all resistance.

Rows of severed heads would be neatly arranged on the ground.

The entire Yan'an Guard operated automatically.

These were things he couldn't discuss with Wu Zimian, and even if he did, the old Chief Commander wouldn't understand.

People only understood the logic of harboring bandits to bolster one's own importance; how could they grasp the subtlety of being propped up by subordinates until one's own authority grew light?

At first, Yang Yanchang had found this situation rather hard to accept, but later he figured it out.

He gradually accepted the reality that he was a regional-type fierce general: as long as he was within Yan'an Prefecture, no one could defeat him.

If the authorities wanted to defeat Liu Chengzong, they had him;

if anyone wanted to defeat him, they had Liu Chengzong.

It was just that Wu Zimian didn't believe a single word he said. Seeing that Yang Yanchang was keeping his mouth tightly shut, he simply stopped pressing. "It's still the same as I said before. We arrived early, so clashing with the eastern caitiffs is unavoidable. What did you come here to do? If it's to loot, I'll let you go loot — just don't cause me any trouble."

"This humble officer is a stranger in an unfamiliar land. What would I come here to loot? Everyone's speaking Shaanxi official dialect with a full mouth; we couldn't even convincingly pretend to be eastern caitiffs."

Yang Yanchang laughed. "Marshal Wu need not worry. This humble officer truly came to serve the king. If I had to say what I really want to do, it's the same as Marshal Wu: I just want to bring my troops back home."

He really did just want to bring his troops back home.

"That would be for the best. The court's forty-thousand-strong army has just been lost; everyone from the court to the common people is in a state of panic. Liu Zhilun has gone east to retake Zunhua. I fear he most likely won't be coming back. Pity those ten-thousand-plus new troops."

Wu Zimian admonished him, "I climbed up from the lowest ranks by knowing what soldiers are thinking. Don't you imitate him — getting hotheaded the moment the emperor grants you an official post, wanting to repay the debt of recognition. The debt of recognition was given to him by the emperor; it has nothing to do with the soldiers under his command."

Wu Zimian never considered himself a good general after his rank had risen high.

He wasn't good, and he knew it clearly in his heart.

But he also believed that anyone thrown into a place like Yansui Garrison couldn't possibly have done a better job than him.

When Du Wenhuan defended Yansui, didn't the northern caitiff Tartars still breach the border walls and run rampant with slaughter and plunder all the way to Yan'an Prefecture?

When he, Wu Zimian, garrisoned Yansui, when had the northern caitiffs ever managed to break through the passes? Hadn't they all been beaten back?

Yang Yanchang couldn't bear the thought. "Then... then we just hold our troops in place and watch the Vice Minister of War die in battle at Zunhua?"

"We hold in place. I've served as a Mobile Corps Commander in Ningxia, a Regional Commander in Datong, the Central Army Defender at Shanhai Pass, and Vice Chief Commander in Ji Garrison. I know this region far better than you."

Wu Zimian leisurely recited every official post he had ever held, then said, "Zhangjiawan in Tongzhou is a major grain storage town. The eastern caitiffs broke it over the New Year. Now the eastern caitiffs have grain and we don't. The court can't coordinate the various garrisons, the civilian laborers don't dare cross the Luan River, and our entire force along the way numbers only five thousand officers and men, while the eastern caitiffs can muster thirty to forty thousand."

"Even if you were heavenly troops and heavenly generals, what can you do without sufficient provisions and pay? And if you march out, who can you count on to come rescue you? We'll discuss this after the court sorts out the provisions and pay."

A few days later, a battle report arrived from the front lines. Liu Zhilun had led his troops on a forced march to Mount Niangniang Temple, eight li from Zunhua, where they were discovered by the Later Jin forces. The two armies immediately deployed and engaged.

Liu Zhilun arrayed eight battalions before the city and dispatched his subordinate general Wu Yinglong to seize Luowenyu Pass as a diversionary force.

Thereafter, the Later Jin army routed two of the eight battalions. Liu Zhilun personally took command to steady the line, and the remaining six battalions held firm. Hong Taiji massed thirty thousand troops for an all-out assault, and all eight battalions collapsed.

Liu Zhilun retreated to defend Niangniang Temple Hill. Facing Hong Taiji's offer of surrender, he cursed him furiously, then fought on, bombarding the Later Jin forces with cannon fire until a cannon exploded, throwing his own army into chaos.

His subordinate generals requested orders to form ranks and conduct a slow withdrawal, but the young Vice Minister of War, who had once met Yang Yanchang in passing, resolved to fight to the death. He entrusted his official seals to others to deliver to the imperial court and was ultimately shot dead by the Later Jin.

As for the troops left to guard Jizhou, it was not until the second day of the third month that they received frontline intelligence: Hong Taiji had already led the main Later Jin invasion force out of the capital region and was returning to Shenyang, leaving behind troops to occupy the four cities of Yongping.

In the camp, Wu Zimian clapped Yang Yanchang on the shoulder. "Hong Taiji has left. The court should finally dare to fight now. Just wait and see — we'll be marching out soon too."