Chapter 364: Too Many Dragons Bring Drought

Yang Yao's cavalry charged eastward, not only routing Tang Tong's Yan-Sui Garrison division on the northern road, but also shattering the illusion of the three-garrison border army's makeshift grand host.

The first person to sense the shift in the battle was Yan-Sui Garrison Mobile Corps Commander Zhang Hongye.

He was a man serving to atone for past crimes, and the highest-ranking Yan-Sui Garrison officer, You Shilu, was in poor physical condition and could not take on the main assault mission, only able to remain in the central army, so the frontline's highest-ranking commander fell to Mobile Corps Commander Zhang Hongye's shoulders.

Precisely because You Shilu could not join the battle, the mission of attacking Liu Chengzong's main force was assigned to the Ningxia army and Guyuan army, while the Yan-Sui army struck the northern road alone, without needing to coordinate with the other two armies.

Zhang Hongye's mission in this assault was to cross the river via the Beishan side path and the northern stretch of the Huang River, employing the same tactic of divided advance and converging strike.

His forces split into two routes: one, with Tang Tong serving as the anvil, led the main troops to block the enemy on the narrow mountain path to the north, with a reserve of irregular troops held behind.

The other route, with Zhang Hongye as the hammer, split into two columns crossing the river on hide rafts from the west and north bends of the Huang River, aiming to complete the encirclement of the northern-road enemy before Tang Tong's division was routed.

But Yang Yao's cavalry were too fast and too fierce — without the slightest hesitation, they ignored Zhang Hongye's main force mid-crossing entirely, charged straight at the narrow zone where Tang Tong's division was positioned, and a single volley from the heavy arquebus wagons tore the formation open, after which they drove straight through.

Not only could Zhang Hongye, seated on a cowhide raft, not react in time — even Guan Fumin, the Battalion Commander of the reserve regiment behind Tang Tong who had taken over the fallen Li Fuming's division, made no move.

Guan Fumin was not as helpless as Zhang Hongye on his cowhide raft; he merely froze for a moment — after all, his task had originally been assigned to Mobile Guerrilla Commander Li Fuming, and it was only because his predecessor had been trampled to death by the Marshal's Manor horse battalion that it fell to him.

Now, with the horse battalion bearing down on him again with ferocious momentum, Guan Fumin's mind waged a desperate struggle between blocking them head-on and retreating three leagues — and in that moment of hesitation, the terrifying Yang Yao was already gone.

Yang Yao had no intention of crashing into him at all; he simply swept past the flank of Guan's division and galloped straight for the main camp of the three-garrison border army.

Belatedly, the back of Guan Fumin's padded cotton armor was soaked with sweat — in his panic, he saw Mobile Corps Commander Zhang Hongye, who had just crossed the Huang River, waving his arms on the bank, driving the soldiers still crossing to turn back and reinforce.

Then Zhang Hongye, leading the several hundred infantry who had already crossed, blade in hand, chased the hoofprints of Yang Yao's horses from the north bank in a wide loop, intent on fighting his way back.

Guan Fumin fell into hesitation once more — at this very moment, should he coordinate with the two great armies of Ningxia and Guyuan, or go back to rescue You Shilu?

No one could give him an answer. On the opposite bank, Zhang Hongye ran cursing, frantic and flustered.

He was already a man bearing guilt, and now the enemy had broken through his defensive line — his official rank was absolutely forfeit.

The only chance left for him to survive was to run back and rescue Regional Commander You Shilu from the enemy cavalry, so that he might at least keep his own head.

To keep his head, Zhang Hongye led his troops in a desperate sprint, but it was futile — by the time he ran along the west bank of the Huang River to the north bank and reached the mountain path where Tang Tong's division had been routed, there were only scattered wounded soldiers pulling their unconscious Guerrilla Commander to safety; the Marshal's Manor horse troops had long since vanished to who knows where.

Zhang Hongye could not concern himself with the ongoing battles on the central and southern roads — he gathered several dozen soldiers, left a few to tend to Tang Tong and pass orders to Guan Fumin and the others to turn back and reinforce, then led his infantry brigade of fewer than a thousand men racing toward the main camp.

On the other side of the battlefield, Yang Qi's Guyuan army, having endured many hardships, had finally "driven off" the tribal soldiers — they toppled their shielded carts over the trenches, wave after wave of soldiers charged the earthen fort, and the entire army basked in the joy of routing the enemy, planting the Ming-character banner atop the earthen fort beneath the setting sun.

Yang Qi, who had led over a thousand soldiers into the fort, realized belatedly — watching the six thousand-man squads of the Shooting and Hunting Battalion alternating their withdrawal to shake off pursuit, he ordered his pursuers to drive the enemy ten li and then pursue no further.

In his heart, Yang Qi deeply agreed with He Huchen's words: Liu Chengzong, born of the Yan-Sui vanguard, was a troublesome opponent.

This battle had been far easier than Yang Qi had anticipated — the two sides held different grasps and different understandings of the battlefield situation, and he saw nothing strange at all in the Marshal's army's withdrawal.

It was simply that Liu Chengzong had guessed they intended to use smallpox as a weapon, and so, weighing two evils, chose to yield the fort and trench positions to avoid close combat... quite cunning.

Though the strategic objective had not been achieved, Yang Qi was fairly satisfied with the results — they had taken the fort and trenches, reinforcements from the Lintao Garrison were to the west, and once the Gansu Garrison joined the chieftain armies at Yongdeng Liancheng to annihilate Liu Chengzong's flanking force, the encirclement would be complete within days.

The Ningxia army, crossing the river, arrived late and appeared overly cautious — they searched the unmanned trenches again and again, and dug three feet deep everywhere inside the fort.

Only after confirming that no one was hidden in the trenches and no gunpowder mines were buried in the fort, and that he would not be blown sky-high, did He Huchen climb the ramparts as if a great weight had been lifted... even as he mounted the wall, his head was still spinning — how had Liu Chengzong become so fragile?

Just as he was puzzling over this, his son He Zan came running swiftly: "Father, the northern road has retreated."

Both Yang Qi and He Huchen were startled by the news — their own assault had gone so smoothly that they could never have imagined the Yan-Sui Garrison border troops would withdraw on their own; they hurried to the fort's north side to investigate.

Only then did the two discover that the northern road's assault at the foot of the mountain had been repulsed — they could easily see the wounded and dead Zhang Hongye had left behind, but with the sky already dark, they could no longer see the situation to the east.

"What happened here?"

The two men looked at each other, but neither could make any sense of it.

During the earlier assault, He Huchen had led his troops single-mindedly across the river, while Yang Qi had faced the Marshal's Manor artillery fire head-on — neither had had the attention to observe the situation at the far northern end of the river valley, and now, utterly in the dark, neither knew what mishap had befallen the Yan-Sui Garrison in the attack.

He Huchen summoned the officers and soldiers who had crossed the river on the right flank, and only after questioning them did he learn that the Marshal's Manor cavalry had broken through on the northern road — both Regional Commanders' hearts cried out in unison: This is bad!

At this moment, the three garrisons' main armies were all deployed, and the forces left to guard the main camp were extremely scant — only the household troops of Yan-Sui Garrison's You Shilu and the thousand-odd Taozhou tribal soldiers led by Shaanxi Assistant Surveillance Commissioner He Renlong.

Both Yang Qi and He Huchen had seen Liu Chengzong's ferocious horse battalion — that force was absolutely not something Taozhou tribal soldiers could stop.

And so, a difficult question was laid before the two men: to rescue, or not to rescue?

Yang Qi licked his parched lips and looked around the earthen fort — the thousand-odd Guyuan soldiers who had spearheaded the assault were all inside the fort now.

The earthen fort was utterly bare — wounded soldiers could not even find a clean scrap of cotton cloth to dress their wounds; men could only untie their puttees and hastily bind their injuries, each leaning against the earthen walls to rest.

After just a brief glance around, Yang Qi said to He Huchen, "Commander He, this fort cannot be held overnight — in my view, we must go back and rescue Commander You."

In truth, for Yang Qi, "rescuing You Shilu" was merely a pleasant way to put it... whether You Shilu was rescued or not did not matter; what mattered was that Liu Chengzong had not prepared supper for them in this earthen fort.

Both the Ningxia soldiers and the Guyuan soldiers had gone hungry all day — they had never planned on taking the earthen fort today, and they needed to return to the main camp to eat.

He Huchen shared the same view. He nodded and said, "Then Commander Yang, you go first — let me gather some gunpowder, blow a hole in the east side of the fort, and we'll leave."

But Yang Qi replied, "Let me handle that — I have over two thousand men pursuing the enemy to the west, once they... fire?"

Mid-sentence, Yang Qi's gaze froze, staring eastward — He Huchen followed his eyes and saw, beneath the pale blue sky in the distance, firelight illuminating the mesa, white smoke surging skyward from the river valley.

At the same moment, a lone cavalry rider came fleeing in panic from the east — his horse's hooves traced the bank of the Huang River, circling back and forth a dozen paces, until the rider finally made his resolve, spurred his horse into the river, and swam across clinging to its tail. Letting go of the reins, he stumbled and staggered to the foot of the fort, shouting: "Commander Yang, Commander He, I beg you, send troops east at once — enemy cavalry are trampling the main camp, and General Zhang was killed turning back to reinforce!"

"Zhang Hongye is dead?"

He Huchen exclaimed in shock from the ramparts — steadying himself against the earthen parapet, he recognized the man who had just swum across as Yan-Sui Battalion Commander Guan Fumin and hurriedly called him up to the wall. Only after questioning him did they learn how this battle had unfolded.

Zhang Hongye had never even reached the main camp — desperate to turn back, he had run from the north bank of the Huang River to the south bank, intending to use the horse track left between the trenches for a swift return, but he had not expected Han Shiyou's cavalry detachment to be covering the rear — they wheeled their horses around and drove them down into the trenches.

Then, like a game of whack-a-mole, they were trapped in the trenches — the chevaux-de-frise originally positioned facing east to block enemy cavalry now became obstacles preventing the infantry from forming ranks, while Han Shiyou's riders galloped back and forth along the trench edges, loosing arrows as they rode.

From time to time, several riders, gripping lances, waist knives, and bows, would charge straight into the trenches, driving through the zigzag ditches in a single sweep.

It was while Zhang Hongye was leading his troops through the trenches, rounding a corner with a few household guards, that an enemy rider drove a lance straight through his helmet — he was gone before he even had a chance for a final flash of clarity.

Just then, someone also came running wildly back from the west, bringing Yang Qi word that his pursuing troops had been counter-encircled and pinned down by Mongol cavalry and were begging for reinforcements.

Now it was done — the two garrison commanders were utterly dumbfounded.

Both were men who had spent ten or twenty years in the chaos of war — when their subordinates reported the known intelligence, a map of the battlefield situation formed in their minds, and as more information came in, the disposition of friend and foe grew ever clearer in their heads.

But clarity was not always a good thing — the clearer it became, the more pessimistic their assessment of the present situation grew.

Their objective shifted from "return to the main camp to eat tonight" to "no meal tonight," and then immediately to "who knows if we'll live to eat tomorrow."

The main camp to the east had to be rescued, and the two thousand troops to the west had to be rescued too — but the problem was, how?

If He Huchen went to rescue the main camp and Yang Qi went to rescue the pursuers, the two men reckoned it would most likely be a case of one dying and the other delivering himself to death.

But if they didn't rescue them, hunkering in the earthen fort starving all night would mean losing both routes — they'd be the turtle caught in the jar.

"Rescue one route." Yang Qi's eyes went wide, but his mind couldn't settle on a decision. "Which route — Marshal He, you decide!"

Yang Qi couldn't make the call. If he said to rescue his own troops, that was as good as admitting the order not to rescue You Shilu had come from him; if he said to rescue You Shilu, his remaining soldiers would be bitterly disheartened.

Better to let He Huchen say to rescue You Shilu — at least then Yang Qi could still offer his own soldiers some excuse as an explanation.

But he never expected He Huchen to furrow his brow and say, "Rescue the western route!"

Only after the household retainers had run down from the wall to relay the assembly order did Yang Qi ask He Huchen, "Why rescue the western route?"

He Huchen shook his head and did not explain to Yang Qi.

He didn't know how to explain. Was he supposed to tell Yang Qi he was just taking a gamble?

What He Huchen was thinking about wasn't this small battlefield before them, but the entire great battlefield of He-Huang. He believed this moment was the most critical juncture of the battle for the government troops — the moment that would decide victory or defeat.

Only, He Huchen didn't know which choice would bring victory. He only knew that going east meant certain defeat.

Going east meant retreat — abandoning over two thousand troops in retreat, losing the trenches and the main camp, and likely the provisions and heavy baggage as well. The originally evenly matched forces would shift to Liu Chengzong holding the advantage.

Most critically, even if they went east now, they might not be able to save You Shilu.

The commanding officer with You Shilu was, after all, He Renlong — Liu Chengzong's old superior.

Although He Renlong was eager to rush out and serve the court, the three garrison supreme commanders all had the idea of keeping him out of suspicion's way. So when they dug the trenches, He Renlong was there; when they sent out troops, He Renlong was not — they had him guard the main camp.

No one expected that what was clearly meant to be a loud-thunder-but-small-raindrops quick strike and swift withdrawal would, after the northern route was broken through by cavalry, turn into this.

Whether He Renlong would lead the Taozhou native soldiers in staunch resistance, He Huchen did not know. But even if they resisted stubbornly, the main camp was already ablaze — retreating meant defeat, and the two thousand besieged Guyuan troops west of the river would certainly be lost.

So He Huchen's thinking was to rescue the west. For one thing, if they rescued the east, they might not be able to save You Shilu; but conversely, if they didn't rescue him, You Shilu might not necessarily die — he could flee east.

There was smallpox at the river mouth to the east. Though given You Shilu's physical condition, catching smallpox would mean even the gods couldn't save him, at least it was far better than being trampled to death by cavalry.

For another, there was the Lintao army. Reckoning the time, the Lintao army should have completed their encirclement yesterday.

They could still rescue two thousand troops now — the two garrisons still had twelve thousand soldiers. Rather than sit waiting for death, He Huchen thought it better to stake everything on one throw. The worst outcome was no more than the battle turning into a night fight and chaotic melee.

Night fighting is deadly for everyone, but in a chaotic melee, the border troops' small-unit organization would still be stronger than those foreign tribesmen under Liu Chengzong. Though their own provisions were poor, He Huchen knew the tribesmen didn't eat fish — they were all night-blind. A battle of blind men, who's afraid of whom?

Most critically, fighting one battle would solve the food problem.

The two Regional Commanders had little room to maneuver. After briefly reorganizing the troops, they dispersed the army into the village dwellings west of the earthen fort to gather timber. Thanks to Liu Chengzong, the residents of Hezui had long since either fled or relocated — the Ningxia soldiers tore down houses with great efficiency.

The soldiers were exhilarated. This wasn't their first time tearing down houses, but in their lifetimes, brazenly pulling down the main beams of Prince Su's manor estates was a once-only affair.

Cannon fire rumbled to the west. The troops of the two garrisons prepared briefly, then spread their battle formation across the He-Huang valley and pressed westward with torches blazing openly.

On the roof of a dwelling ten li from the earthen fort, Liu Chengzong clutched his telescope. Bent over, he took a flatbread handed up by a bodyguard. He had just taken a bite when he spotted a distant glow and hurriedly raised the telescope to look.

In the night, a flickering fire dragon shimmered in and out of sight through the river valley, making Liu the Lion so overjoyed he nearly tumbled off the roof.

He had originally thought there was only this one infantry formation, so he had detailed three thousand Mongol cavalry with the plan of rotating three shifts — determined to torment them all night no matter what.

He never imagined that even after dark, the government troops would come bearing torches just to deliver their heads.

"Ningxia troops, believe it or not?" Liu Chengzong stood on the roof tiles and called down to Huang Shengxiao in the courtyard. "Ningxia troops love eating my army rations. Tell the brothers to eat fast, then set up a sack-and-brazier formation. Night fighting — how entertaining! Living targets!"