Chapter 144: Left Station of Fenzhou Guard

The Fenzhou Guard banner troops were not a normal military unit.

Liu Chengzong could see clearly from the mountain: their formation was loose yet their morale was high; even the way they held their weapons was wrong, but they were not thin or weak.

They were vastly different from any government troops they had encountered before — whether banner troops or border garrisons.

The times no longer allowed ordinary people to be strong.

They were bandits.

The winding mountain paths slowed the dispatch riders a little, and Rear Sentinel Commander Wang Wenxiu was also somewhat bewildered by the order.

Before the battle, the rear sentinel's orders had been to conceal themselves on the mountain, wait until the Fenzhou Guard banner troops engaged Feng Rang in the west, then strike at the enemy's center, attempt to cut the enemy force in half, and then press the enemy from the center outward toward both ends.

But now Liu Chengzong's order commanded him to launch an attack on the government troops before Feng Rang arrived, which meant the rear sentinel would shift from a supporting role to the main assault — and the problem was that their position was extremely unfavorable.

A hundred or two hundred of the government troops' vanguard had already marched past; an attack would send his five hundred men straight into the enemy's main force, forming a semi-encirclement.

But there was no time to worry about that now. Wang Wenxiu steeled his resolve, glanced toward the mountain where Liu Chengzong stood, and led his main force surging out from their concealed position in the hills, swiftly descending the mountain paths, forming a battle line, and advancing on the government troops.

The thousand-odd banner troops on the march suddenly spotted enemies on their flank and fell into extreme disarray, but the hundred-commanders quickly straightened the ranks, after which five hundred-commanders met the enemy in a horizontal line to screen the battlefield, creating an opening for two hundred-commanders to lead their men in a flanking assault.

In guard battalions that still maintained hereditary succession, the banner troops' combat ability might not be high, but their obedience to the hundred-commanders and chiliarchs was excellent.

After all, with several generations obeying a few families, obedience to orders had become instinct.

With a thunderous boom, the three heavy cannons that had once belonged to Li Bei's division were pushed out onto the mountain platform. One cannon muzzle belched flame and smoke as the double-wheeled gun carriage recoiled violently backward.

Cao Yao stood on a platform slightly above the gun emplacement, lit his pipe with a half-length of match cord, and watched the iron ball slam down into the troop formation, smashing a head among the crowd. He muttered to himself, "This is nothing like that bombardment at Hequ."

Holding his pipe, he turned his head, smoke puffing from his lips as he spoke: "Reload, quick. All three cannons, aim for the enemy formation and fire one volley. When the center sentinel is sixty paces from the enemy, fire again."

Cao Yao's experience commanding artillery was, in truth, not much.

In the past, in the capital army's firearms battalion, he had learned a great deal about firearm operation, but when it came to actual artillery command, that had really only come after fighting alongside Liu Chengzong.

Before that, the firearms he was most familiar with were the three-eyed gun and the Frankish culverin.

Artillery was especially hard to train, particularly in Liu Chengzong's cannon sentinel... Unlike the border garrisons, they had no fixed gunpowder allotment, and the ammunition consumption of the cannons was far too great.

These three Ye Gong divine cannons taken from Li Bei were fine cannons, but they consumed ammunition just as finely.

One cannon firing once cost as much as the sentinel's two hundred muskets firing once.

Throughout the entire winter, the battalion cannon sentinel's live-fire training had all been musket shooting; the cannons had only ever done loading drills. So now the gunners were thoroughly familiar with loading, but in terms of actual firing experience, this was only their second shot.

Even now, Cao Yao still had not fully figured out these three cannons.

But as for the timing of directing the cannon battery to fire — breaking Li Bei's line at Hequ, and now bombarding from a distance — had given Cao Yao some ideas of his own.

This cannonball had struck quite accurately, which basically had little to do with the gunners' skill; it was simply that the cannon was good.

But the shock effect of a single solid shot bombarding a ground formation was extremely limited. Whether against these guard battalion troops before him or Luo Rucai's beggar gang, it would not cause a rout.

But massing a large number of light cannons, concealing them within one's own infantry lines directly in front of or on the flank of the enemy's solid formation, and concentrating cannon fire at close range — mixing solid shot and grapeshot to hammer a single face — could achieve far greater results.

Killing and wounding frontline officers and dispatch riders, along with the tremendous noise, could temporarily throw the enemy's command into chaos, while the cannon smoke could further screen one's own infantry assault, thereby breaking the formation.

He glanced at Liu Chengzong beside him, who was wholly absorbed in observing the battlefield, and said nothing.

He simply made up his mind that in the next battle he would propose to Liu Chengzong that the cannon sentinel carry twenty light cannons and advance to the front line mixed together with any one sentinel, to see if they could replicate the formation-breaking effect they had achieved against Li Bei's army.

Soon, the two armies in the valley were about to clash.

The guard battalion troops finished adjusting their formation, shifting from a column facing west to two horizontal lines facing south with their backs to the north. The front horizontal line was composed of five hundred-commander units, stretching out in great width.

The rear horizontal line was composed of three hundred-commander units, and all the carts were gathered to form a square formation, protecting the central command, baggage, oxen, and donkeys in the middle.

In the left and right wings between the two horizontal lines, one hundred-commander unit on each side slowly advanced, and beside them were mounted detachments drawn from each hundred-commander unit.

The mounted detachment on the left wing was breaking away eastward from the battlefield — presumably the government troops had spotted Liu Chengzong's command position because of the cannon fire and were now seeking an opportunity to attack up the mountain.

But this was futile; to reach the hilltop where Liu Chengzong stood, they would have to circle around from far to the east.

The arquebusiers at the very front of the forward horizontal line began firing. The muffled thuds of arquebuses echoed through the valley, and scattered wisps of gunpowder smoke drifted up before the formation.

Men in the front ranks of Wang Wenxiu's unit were hit by bullets and knocked to the ground. The soldiers behind parted to step around them, then closed ranks again.

The struck soldier did not wait long before struggling back to his feet on the battlefield. His left arm seemed to have a problem — unable to raise his long spear again, he drew his waist saber, jogged after the unit with the blade in hand, and filled a position at the rear of the formation.

The government troops had completed their formation change. Liu Chengzong turned his head and said, "Wave the white flag, from east to west."

Behind him, several household retainers stood holding large flags of various colors planted in the ground. The retainer holding the white flag stepped forward at the command, raised the banner high, and ran from east to west along the edge of the mountain platform.

Cao Yao bombarded the enemy formation with two cannons. Amid the roaring cannon fire, at the eastern mountain pass, Yang Yao's vanguard sentinel rode out from the mountain path on mules, leading their horses, and charged trampling toward the government troops' left wing.

Wang Wenxiu's rear sentinel clashed with the government troops. The two formations collided, three-eyed guns and firelocks belching puffs of smoke before the two lines, while small-caliber field guns boomed sporadically in front of the formations.

The government troops' right-wing mounted detachment attempted to circle around and strike Wang Wenxiu's left flank, but two swivel guns killed and wounded several of their warhorses.

The mounted detachment charged to within ten paces. Wang Wenxiu's left unit held firm, spears and long shields bristling through the gaps, while three-eyed gunners and firelock men stepped forward through the spaces between soldiers and fired in volleys.

The government mounted detachment left behind over a dozen corpses and withdrew beyond firing range.

The government troops' left-wing mounted detachment was barreling eastward at full speed when they suddenly saw a large mule force charging toward them. Panic-stricken for a moment, the entire detachment was forced to a rapid halt in a short time, then wheeled around and fled back toward their main body even faster than they had galloped out.

Halfway back, a rider dispatched from the government central command met them. After a few brief shouts, the mounted detachment turned once more and charged toward Yang Yao's mule force.

By now the distance between the two sides was no more than two hundred paces. Many of Yang Yao's vanguard sentinel soldiers had already switched from mules to warhorses during the ride and now galloped forward to meet the government mounted detachment in a charge. The two mounted forces clashed together like two masses of flame colliding, sparks flying in every direction.

Some pursued with leveled spears, some hacked with raised sabers; others galloped with bows, loosing arrows freely as they rode.

Meanwhile, Yang Yao's mule force bypassed the melee and continued advancing forward.

This sight threw the government troops into great alarm. Although the seven hundred-commander units at the front were fighting Wang Wenxiu on even terms, the formation still wavered. The central cart formation broke apart, and two hundred-commander units deployed into a line facing east.

The last men left guarding the central command harnessed the oxen and donkeys to the carts, ready to flee westward at any moment.

Liu Chengzong looked down upon the battlefield. The government mounted detachment on the right wing, which had failed in its attack on Wang Wenxiu, received new orders, abandoned its continued assault, and instead galloped westward to scout the way for the central command.

Whatever inner struggle the Fenzhou Guard officers went through, just as the mounted detachment began scouting westward, the carts and horses of the central command were unhitched again, the carts reformed into a square formation, and the entire battle line began to contract.

Liu Chengzong realized it — his intention to drive the government troops westward had been exposed far too plainly. Since their rear path was already blocked, the government troops had no reason to believe the path ahead was safe.

He should have waited a little longer before sending Yang Yao out.

But it did not matter. Feng Rang, leading his own unit mixed with Cao Yao's two hundred musketeers, was slowly closing in from west to east.

The government troops' cart formation assembled for the second time, the gaps between them widening slightly to make the cart formation larger, as the guard troops' formation slowly contracted toward the center.

Some tried to flee — those on the east ran west, those on the west ran east. But everywhere they looked, enemies were steadily closing in. In the end, they could only withdraw into the wagon fort in succession.

This suited Liu Chengzong perfectly. He had never wanted this group to escape in the first place. From the moment the plan was drawn up, routing them had never been the goal.

He wanted total annihilation — surrender or die.

But clearly, these government troops had no intention of surrendering, at least not for the moment.

While the five units outside were still fighting, the banner troops inside the wagon fort took iron picks, spades, and shovels from the wagons and began digging earth to fill the gaps in the wagon fort.

Liu Chengzong frowned and handed the telescope to Cao Yao. "Are they planning to hold out to the death?"

Down below, Wang Wenxiu was still locked in a stalemate with the enemy. Yang Yao's cavalry had already routed the government cavalry, capturing several dozen riders. After stripping their armor and weapons and leaving a dozen men to guard them, he turned and advanced once more toward the government wagon fort.

Meanwhile, his mule corps dismounted over a hundred paces from the wagon fort, formed up as infantry, and advanced with bows drawn. They loosed two volleys of arrow rain, but to little effect — instead, one of their own was wounded by a matchlock shot.

They then fell back and split their forces to outflank the government front line.

This greatly relieved the pressure on Wang Wenxiu's unit. He then personally led his troops forward to coordinate with Yang Yao's assault, easily routing the leftmost of the five government units. The guard troops caught in the pincer began to collapse the moment a few men broke from formation and fled.

Collapse, once begun, is very hard to stop.

In an extremely short time, before Liu Chengzong's eyes, the five forward formations of the Fenzhou Guard were swept through by Yang Yao and Wang Wenxiu from left to right.

The leftmost unit's formation was shattered by Wang Wenxiu's personal charge. Yang Yao then took up his blade and fought on foot, following the fleeing troops across the second formation and charging straight into the heart of the third, where he cut down the chiliarch. The routed troops swept up the fourth formation and, together with the fifth, crashed squarely into Feng Rang's face — solid as a wall of bronze and iron.

What greeted them were three dense volleys of gunfire. A vast cloud of gunpowder smoke rose before the formation.

He heard Cao Yao clapping. "My musket corps!"

Before them, an army of guns and cannon; behind them, murderous fiends.

The five banner units were trapped between a rock and a hard place. Just as they tried to withdraw north into the wagon fort, Yang Yao's cavalry thundered through the gap between the fort and the routed troops, leaving a row of still-quivering arrows embedded in the wagon fort.

Like the ebb and flow of the tide, the leaderless banner troops laid down their weapons in droves and became their captives.

Inside the wagon fort, Zhang Zhan watched the front line surrender. He jumped up, cursing furiously.

He swore loudly that when he returned to Fenzhou Guard, he would slaughter every last family member of these men. Then, realizing this was not the time for such words, he turned to rally his subordinates: "To the north, Chiliarch Chen still has seven hundred men. The enemy is exhausted — we can surely turn defeat into victory!"

The three chiliarchs inside the wagon fort swallowed their anger, answered in unison, and ordered the banner troops to dig trenches within the wagon fort, making a show of preparing to hold out to the death.

But as if in answer to his shouts, the white flag on the mountain moved again — this time from west to east, then immediately from east to west, paused a moment, and repeated.

In the field, Yang Yao and Wang Wenxiu exchanged a few brief words, and he handed the task of rounding up the prisoners to his comrade.

As swift in departure as in arrival, he led his troops away from the battlefield in the blink of an eye, mounted his little mule once more, and clip-clopped off eastward on a new journey.

For a moment, the battlefield fell utterly silent. No more crack of gun or cannon could be heard. Only Wang Wenxiu's and Feng Rang's units, having detached several dozen men to keep the disarmed prisoners in check, slowly encircled the three hundred-odd government troops in the wagon fort, just beyond firing range.

"Send word to the baggage outpost — have the medics from the other side of the mountain come over. Also send men to Yatou Mountain for some auxiliaries with picks and shovels. And ask how the scaling ladders are coming along."

With half the government troops having surrendered, Liu Chengzong's mood relaxed considerably. He let out a long breath and gazed north. Now it all depended on whether Zhong Hu's Center Outpost could hold off that force of over seven hundred government troops.

In his heart, Liu Chengzong already knew the answer. Though that government force was slightly larger, their morale was no match for Zhong Hu's men.

The two mountain paths were not far apart — only that one was wide and this one narrow. They could hear the sounds of battle here.

And while Zhong Hu knew why the battle was being fought, the government flanking force did not. As long as Zhong Hu put up some resistance, that government force, seeing they could not break through quickly, would try every means to withdraw the way they had come.

When ambushed suddenly, rejoining the main force is the safest course.

By the same logic, when fighting broke out over there, it could be heard here too.

In the valley, the two forces — one besieging, one defending — paused a moment as faint shouts drifted from the distance, mingled with the roar of guns and cannon.

To the government troops inside the wagon fort, this was unmistakably dire news, for Chiliarch Chen's force had brought no cannon.

And the prisoners, who had been growing restive, quieted down at the distant cannon fire, which rumbled like muffled thunder on the horizon.

There was no way left to turn the tide.

They could not see how the battle was unfolding, but by following the shifting distance of the sounds, they could form a rough guess in their minds.

The sounds of battle had begun far to the west. After about a quarter-hour, they gradually died down, then shifted to a closer position in the north.

Chiliarch Chen had failed to break through the enemy's blocking force and was being pursued as he withdrew — a second engagement had begun.

After another moment, the sounds of battle grew distant again, but this time to the east, and they did not last long before dying out.

Liu Chengzong looked toward that hill and smiled. It seemed Yang Yao, like himself, had learned something in this battle.

Clearly, the Vanguard Outpost had not charged too far west. They had simply waited at the mountain pass, resting while the enemy wore themselves out, letting the fighting-withdrawal government troops run past and then run back — only to find this path blocked as well.

Not long after, several riders came galloping from the far end of the valley. Someone below shouted: "General! The chiliarch of the northern government force was shot dead by Outpost Commander Yang. The rest have surrendered!"

Liu Chengzong nodded to show he understood and sent word for Yang Yao to bring the prisoners over.

But before Yang Yao could arrive, infighting broke out inside the wagon fort. A moment later, a chiliarch shed his armor, laid down his weapons, and emerged from the formation bearing the severed head of the Left Assistant Commander of Fenzhou Guard. On behalf of the three hundred banner troops, he surrendered.

Liu Chengzong laughed heartily on the mountain, then reined in his mirth and shook his head slightly at Cao Yao. "None of them are thin. But when I see they are not thin, I think of one deserted village after another."