Chapter 316: Patience

In three days, Liu Chengzong fought more rout-causing engagements than he had in the past three years — and was routed himself just as many times.

These Khalkha men were utterly contemptible bullies. When they saw Western Tibetan noble cavalry giving chase, even in rout they would turn and fight back ferociously; when they saw Ah Liu's troops, they would harass them relentlessly; when they saw Gao Yingdeng's and Zhang Tianlin's cavalry, they would simply turn and run for their lives.

The tactic proved highly effective. Ah Liu's and Wasi's fourteen hundred heavy infantry stayed in constant pursuit. The first day they were fully armored; the second day they removed their shoulder guards and rolled up their armor skirts; by the third day they simply stripped the skirts off entirely.

It was only on the third day that Liu Chengzong realized his heavy infantry had turned into light infantry with only chest and back plates left. He summoned the two commanders and asked — the soldiers simply could not bear it any longer.

Wasi's Changhexi infantry had never trained in long-distance armed pursuit to begin with. The march alone had already cost them half their lives, and then they were chasing through the river valley in armor, with no chance to rest even at night because they had to guard against Mongol raids.

Ah Liu's Yongning troops had trained in pursuit, but the soldiers were, after all, getting on in years. The youngest man in the ranks was already twenty-eight, and the oldest veteran had passed fifty. They could not keep up with this high-intensity fighting — nearly ten engagements a day.

Even so, their elite troops suffered few fatalities. Only some forty-odd soldiers were wounded by stray arrows, all sent to the rear at the foot of the earthen hill and well bandaged, so morale was not much affected — after all, the Mongols had died in far greater numbers.

The Western Tibetan nobles, on the other hand, were beginning to doubt the meaning of life.

They were clearly far stronger than the Mongols, far better equipped — yet every time they fought, they were surrounded; every time they fought, they were surrounded. Now with over six hundred casualties and more than two hundred taken captive, a fear of battle was spreading through their camp.

Because the Mongols had stripped every one of those two-hundred-odd captives completely bare and used their clothes, tied to their own spears, as road markers. The arrows that killed them might well have been shot from their own bows.

The Mongols were testing their patience — seeing who could endure more hardship.

But when Liu Chengzong relayed this analysis through Awang to Basang, Basang looked utterly baffled.

That's it?

This is what counts as seeing who can endure more hardship?

While the elite, crack troops were worn down by days of continuous fighting and their morale plummeted, Basang's men, after several days on the battlefield, were just hitting their stride.

The slave whelps might not match the other soldiers in performance, but they did not consider what they were doing to be hardship. On the contrary, the vast majority of them believed they were living the good life.

Advancing steadily through the river valley each day, forming ranks to fight the Mongols a few times, guarding against night raids — none of it was more exhausting than the endless, ceaseless labor they had performed under the nobles in the past.

And besides the physical fatigue, which fell within an acceptable range, battle brought them boundless spiritual satisfaction.

They had all the meat tsampa and horse-meat shaobing they could eat. They wore the armor the heavy infantry had shed, wielded Mongol weapons, and owned their own warhorses. Some could even follow the artillery and wound the enemy in close combat... This made them feel powerful — the slave whelps felt powerful as they never had before.

For Basang's men, their greatest opponent was not the Mongols, but the diarrhea brought on by eating meat.

That this situation arose at all, Liu Chengzong believed, was entirely his own oversight. He had thought the problem of Basang's camp soldiers eating grass was already solved.

The rations issued to each unit were treated no differently — a daily allotment of three liang of dried meat, five liang of wheat-based food, and one liang of pickled vegetables.

But when it came down to Basang's camp soldiers, they did not eat it that way. Meat was precious and kept well — that was common knowledge to every man. Basang's camp soldiers would save their daily dried meat and, on the march, had nearly finished all their tsampa.

By the time battle came, they were left eating nothing but meat — not just their own supplies, but also the yaks and warhorses that fell dead or were crippled on the battlefield. They could not finish it all.

So many soldiers' stomachs were still unaccustomed to meat. They would eat and then suffer diarrhea right after. Three meals a day and six bouts of diarrhea — the men would collapse from dehydration and lose all fighting strength.

Liu Chengzong had Huang Shengxiao in the rear compile the figures. Basang's soldiers had lost nearly thirty percent of their strength in the fighting, and of those, three-fifths had lost combat effectiveness due to diarrhea — more than those wounded by arrows.

Yet, because of this very thing, their morale was excellent. They were not the least bit afraid of battle — they were, however, somewhat afraid of mealtime.

By the fourth day of the campaign, the Mongols were growing desperate and exasperated. Days of rotating combat had left their men with heavy casualties. Over a thousand wounded were withdrawing through a mountain pass northeast of the river valley — an area that ought to have been highly defensible and secure.

Yet their wounded were ambushed at the pass by a force of tribal soldiers that had appeared from nowhere. Numerous and swift, they came and went in a flash, striking from the mountains with a roar. In three columns they hit the wounded column from the mountain flank, routing and slaughtering them until the thousand-strong wounded force was shattered.

The two sides had run headlong into each other. Lao Qijia had been leading his men over the mountain and witnessed the Mongols' first rout with his own eyes. Judging on the spot that the Mongols could not hold out long under the Grand Commander's assault, he gritted his teeth and pressed on through the rain to fulfill his mission. But because of the rain, of his twelve hundred soldiers, many fell behind and casualties were extremely heavy. In the end, only a little over four hundred reached the pass at the expected time.

They arrived on the east side of the pass just as the Mongol wounded were retreating from the west side eastward — and so this ambush, which shook the Mongol army to its core, came to pass.

It shook them even more than being routed head-on by Liu Chengzong time after time.

A powerful foe ahead, the retreat route blocked — and most critically, the rain had stopped.

In the end, the Mongol army could not win the contest of endurance. An unprecedented mass rout began. When the jingal muskets from the rear joined the front-line battle once more, every unit they encountered broke at the first touch. It even became impossible for Liu Chengzong to form infantry battle lines against them.

Two luxurious house-wagons belonging to Mongol nobles joined Liu Chengzong's order of attack.

The heavy noble felt tents and sundries were all stripped from the two great wagons, each pulled by twenty yaks. Deployed on the two flanks, each carried twenty jingal gunners manning ten jingals, and under the protection of cavalry they charged straight across the river-valley grassland.

The assault speed of these contraptions was only slightly faster than infantry, but their advantage lay in stability. So long as they did not need to turn or cross a gully, the jingal gunners could fire volleys and reload with ease from atop them.

South of the mountain pass, the two great wagons were like monstrous beasts rampaging across the battlefield. Wave after wave of gun smoke rolled forward with the steady tread of the yaks, sweeping the Lion Corps cavalry as they charged the enemy flank.

Liu Chengzong, pressing the pursuit with the central army, watched clearly through his telescope. Since the enemy refused to form ranks at all, the jingals could hardly achieve much in the way of kills, but their terrifying din drove the Mongols gathered at the pass — those trying to break through the blockade — straight toward the snow mountains to the northwest.

Many abandoned even their horses and fled for their lives toward the snow mountains, while those clansmen cut off by the cavalry surrendered in droves. Still more fled northwest along the Qinggen River, discarding armor and weapons along the way, leaving behind oxcarts and all manner of supplies scattered everywhere across the river valley.

Now, when it was truly time to pursue, the Western Tibetan nobles, scarred by the feigned retreats, had learned their lesson. Gao Yingdeng had already charged out, but they chased only a few hundred paces before obediently turning back. Liu Chengzong was so furious he shouted for his guards to urge them on — only then did each man spur his horse and charge out to kill.

The central army halted at the mountain pass. The pursuing cavalry chased from dusk until the following afternoon, and only then did Gao Yingdeng's men begin returning in succession with spoils and captives.

"Grand Commander — another five-hundred-odd captives."

Gao Yingdeng was brimming with energy. "This time, counting those who surrendered earlier and those we captured, we've got two or three thousand prisoners... I also killed a big one."

As he spoke, several cavalrymen brought over a corpse in extremely fine equipment. Gao Yingdeng said, "The captives say this man is called Guyang, one of the two commanders of this battle — Chuoketu's right-hand man. There's another one, a bald fellow called Hai, who fled up the snow mountain. We couldn't catch him."

Liu Chengzong glanced at the corpse, nodded in approval, then waved for his guards to inventory the spoils. He praised him: "Well done. How many men did this remaining bald Hai take with him?"

"A hundred or so?" Gao Yingdeng could not be sure. He explained, "They split into more than ten groups and fled up the mountain. Those who ran might also number two or three thousand."

He added, "But the ones who ran don't have many weapons or much armor left. They abandoned their warhorses on this side of the mountain. I only saw two men clutching little lambs. As long as we cordon off the foot of the mountain here, there'll definitely be more surrendering in the next two or three days. Just crossing the snow mountain will kill a great many of them."

Liu Chengzong let out a long, satisfied breath. "Good. You keep watch below the mountain on the north side. I'll send men with tents for you later. Be careful they don't come down the mountain to raid at night."

Gao Yingdeng clasped his fists in acknowledgment and turned to leave. He had just taken a step when he pulled back, and with some embarrassment asked, "Grand Commander, when we return to Ju'er Bay, could you have the craftsmen make one of these for my cavalry? Bang-bang-bang — it's formidable."

He meant the Mongols' great tent oxcart, but clearly it was not merely the oxcart — it was a war-wagon mounting jingals.

Liu Chengzong paused, then turned to look at Huang Shengxiao and laughed.

The participation of those two great war-wagons in the battle had been pure coincidence. When the rain stopped, Huang Shengxiao had led the musketeers and artillery to the front. On the way, he saw the two great wagons and thought their flatbed structure offered both height and stability, so he had the supplies unloaded, arranged the jingal gunners on top, and brought them all the way to the front line.

But on the whole, the thing's drawbacks were glaringly obvious. For one, it was cumbersome; for another, it could only be used on flat ground and could not cross gullies, and adjusting its direction was extremely slow.

Still, on flat grassland, paired with jingals, it did have some use. But relative to the timber and livestock it consumed, the design was not really economical. It was, however, rather useful as a mobile tent-quarters for a commander.

Fresh from a great victory, Liu Chengzong was in excellent spirits. He agreed at once: "I've noted it. When we get back, I'll have two smaller ones made for you. This one's too big and troublesome to move."

Having said this, he turned his head. "Huang Xiao, put your mind to it — a war-wagon suited for jingals, preferably one that camels can pull across the Gobi."

The Gobi?

Camels?

Huang Shengxiao's head buzzed. What did the Grand Commander mean by that — was he planning to start a war with Turpan?

Liu Chengzong was just speaking offhand — if it could travel the Gobi, then flatland grassland was no problem either. He added that condition mainly to keep the vehicles small. In truth, he felt a cart carrying two wall guns, three at the very most, was ideal.

A big wagon like this, mounting ten wall guns, certainly looked mighty when firing — but except for the moment of firing, it was miserable at every other time.

Standing on the big wagon, Liu Chengzong stamped his foot lightly, turned to look at the mountain of captured arms and armor, and said to Huang Shengxiao, "The war cart should be eight chi long and five chi wide. Best to hit the enemy with its rear and its sides."

Even as they spoke, orderlies tallying the spoils of war came in one after another with reports.

Fan Sanlang held the summary sheet and said, "Great Commander, in this battle we have one thousand one hundred and fifty-four dead and missing, and eight hundred and seven wounded or sick, of whom seven hundred and forty are already out of danger."

The casualty figures made Liu Chengzong furrow his brow — how absurd, more dead than wounded.

"Enemy prisoners taken, two thousand one hundred and eighty-eight, currently being escorted by General Zhang to dig pits and bury the corpses. The corpses in the river valley have not yet been fully counted; a rough estimate, including the retreating wounded column killed by Lao Qijia, puts enemy dead at over three thousand. In addition, over a thousand corpses were already pushed into trenches and buried by the wounded."

Liu Chengzong had a fairly clear picture of his own side's dead. They were concentrated mainly among the Western Barbarian nobles who had been encircled and killed in the feigned retreat — many had died very regrettably.

In skill and equipment they surpassed the enemy, and they repeatedly distinguished themselves in the pursuit, but their main achievement was routing the foe, whereas the enemy's blows against them came from swift encirclement and annihilation.

As for the missing soldiers, they were the reason Liu Chengzong was not advancing further for now. The mountain-crossing force led by Lao Qijia — at least four hundred men — was still up on the snow mountain, and this was precisely the moment they needed rescue.

Overall, this battle cost the main-force units very little, while tempering the soldiers who had gathered from various regions, and it also taught the Western Barbarian nobles a harsh lesson about the cost of charging out on their own against orders.

Their spoils were enormous: over a thousand felt tents large and small, more than eight hundred two-wheeled lele carts loaded with all manner of weapons and equipment, over thirty thousand head of cattle, sheep, and warhorses, and countless gold and silver vessels. These Khalkha men had seized Huoluochi Guru's livestock and baggage, only to hold it briefly before it all fell into Liu Chengzong's hands.

The livestock Liu Chengzong distributed. Every participant in the battle received a warhorse. Basang's slave whelps also underwent a bone-deep transformation after this fight — they became the fully armed Mongol-Equipped Barbarian Battalion.

Liu Chengzong set great store by Basang's unit. Though their combat skills still left much to be desired, the soldiers had displayed tremendous endurance and potential. Given time, they could serve as the mainstay of battle.

He had already dispatched messengers to Kangning with word that two orders were to be proclaimed in Kangning Prefecture.

First: for the families of troops garrisoned at Kangning Prefecture, when purchasing grain rations from the Kangning prefectural office, up to twenty-four dan per year, the price would carry a twenty-percent discount — thereby increasing the garrison troops' advantage in marriage prospects.

Second: for the Western Barbarian soldiers who took part in this battle, a Valor Merit Iron Plaque was to be made. It was to be proclaimed that the families of Merit Iron Plaque holders would enjoy the same discount on grain purchases, as a reward for this battle.

Beyond this, there was also a letter to Cao Yao, instructing him to assess Kangning Prefecture's surplus grain reserves and, at a suitable time, recruit another three thousand six hundred free serfs as garrison-farm troops, to be given basic training as future reserve soldiers.

This time, however, the training of these soldiers came with a precondition: their rations must include a slight increase in meat allocation, to offset the disadvantage of the serfs' perennial vegetarian diet.

The great army rested and reorganized in the river valley for three days. Liu Chengzong led the troops in a valley memorial for the fallen officers and men, incorporated the prisoners into Basang's battalion, and then turned the army north, advancing into the Heka Grasslands.