Chapter 365: Night Battle

Night fell, and in the river valley you couldn't see your hand in front of your face — only scattered heaps of campfires on the ground, like the inverted reflections of a sky full of stars upon the earth.

The campfires in the river valley were spaced forty to fifty paces apart, marking out an enormous square formation. He Huchen watched from a distance the square formation Liu Chengzong had left behind after withdrawing his troops, his face full of hesitation.

He did not know whether he should step into this square formation, which seemed tailor-made for their army of over ten thousand.

The river valley was only so wide, and the square formation enclosed by campfires took up half the middle ground. If they did not enter this campfire formation, they would have to split their forces to pass through this area in secret; otherwise, their column would stretch too long and become far too easy to ambush.

He Huchen hated this feeling.

He had fought Liu Chengzong before, at Yellow Dragon Mountain. Although he lost in the end, the two sides had been nearly deadlocked in the desperate struggle — it was just that Liu Chengzong had hidden a red-barbarian cannon and, moreover, managed to fire it in the rain.

If he had to describe the feeling of that battle, it was really no different from fighting the Mongols beyond the frontier or the Shaanxi rebels within the frontier — it all came down to whether you could fight on the battlefield. If you could fight, you won; if you couldn't, you lost.

But this time, on the He-Huang campaign, everything felt wrong for He Huchen from start to finish. It seemed this battle no longer had anything to do with whether you could fight or not.

He was no longer He Huchen, but Old Ox He with a ring through his nose — the four hooves looked like they grew from his own legs, but in truth, where he walked was not his own decision.

Especially seeing this campfire square formation left behind by Liu Chengzong before him, that feeling grew sharper and sharper.

If the battle at Yellow Dragon Mountain was still you play one card, I play one card, comparing sizes, then this battle was practically Liu Chengzong flipping the table, pinning down the hands of the five garrison Supreme Commanders to force their cards face-up, and finally slapping his own cards across their faces.

To He Huchen, he considered this campfire formation an insult.

In reality, it was not. Liu Chengzong had no intention of insulting anyone with a campfire formation; he had merely roughly estimated the space the government troops would need and set out markers that would allow him to generally observe where the government troops were, using them to guide cannon fire.

The real insult was that Liu Chengzong had left a pot beside the campfire in the very center of the square formation, and inside the pot were three large flatbreads he had baked for the three Supreme Commanders.

The pot was placed so conspicuously that when the government soldiers approached and discovered it, none dared eat, fearing that Liu the Lion had poisoned the flatbreads. They had no choice but to report it. The reporting officers also dared not eat, and the report went up level by level, until it finally reached Yang Qi and He Huchen.

These two, already debating whether to enter the campfire square formation or not, upon hearing that three baked flatbreads had been left in the exact center, were so furious their beards bristled and eyes bulged. Yang Qi was about to lead his troops through the campfire formation on the spot, but He Huchen stopped him: "Brother Yang, you must not!"

He Huchen had felt the entire journey that he was being led by the nose. Now, it was as if he suddenly saw the light, and he said to Yang Qi: "He knows what we want to do. We cannot grant his wish!"

Yang Qi thought to himself, aren't you just spouting nonsense? Damn it, even I don't know what I want to do — how could he know?

Yang Qi truly did not know what he wanted to do, because what he wanted to do, He Huchen had not let him do.

He wanted to go east to rescue You Shilu. He had never wanted to come west at all. In fact, if he had rescued You Shilu and let him fall back to his home base of Lanzhou, Yang Qi would have been very happy.

It was He Huchen who insisted on going west to rescue his own troops, putting Yang Qi in an impossible position.

I ask you which way to go, you say go west. We go west, and then you say advancing will grant the enemy's wish... Yang Qi's face was full of impatience as he spoke with barbed sarcasm: "Brother He, why don't you tell me — did the two of you reach some kind of agreement before the battle? You, you... don't screw your brother over."

"What are you thinking? My son has nearly been driven mad by him." He Huchen shot Yang Qi a glance, then gazed toward the campfire formation and the stretch of darkness further west: "He and I are irreconcilable enemies — what agreement could there possibly be?"

Shrouded in the shadow of his enemy's progress, He Huchen nevertheless, thanks to Yang Qi's barbed, jesting remark, regained his confidence as a grand commander.

Then he voiced his thoughts: "Liu Chengzong leaving behind a pot confirms two things. First, he knows we haven't eaten. Second, he doesn't know that Commander You is in the east... He's only led troops for a few years, fought a few major battles — he can't be certain of the situation in the east."

Yang Qi was stunned at these words, and the feeling in his heart immediately changed.

To be honest, this battle had become interesting. For a long time — despite serving as Supreme Commander for several years — Yang Qi had not felt the sensation of commanding a great army for a very long time.

In this regard, Yang Qi's feeling was even stronger than He Huchen's.

The imperial court was using Supreme Commanders as if they were merely capable, oversized Mobile Corps Vice Generals.

But in the past two years, because Guyuan lacked troops and the newly recruited border army was of poor quality and difficult to command, he hadn't even had the feeling of being an Assistant Regional Commander. More often than not, he was merely a Battalion Commander who charged into formations, using personal martial prowess and prestige to turn the tide of battle.

Everywhere were encounter battles, the ground swarming with enemies. There were no massive showdowns, no battle of wits between the commanders of both sides — only exhausting, frantic chases and encirclements.

He had regressed.

But with He Huchen's single sentence — "he can't be certain of the situation in the east" — goosebumps rose all over Yang Qi's body, as if a war instinct long dormant in the depths of his heart had been awakened. His mouth slightly agape, he tilted his head back to gaze at the sky full of stars.

He said: "Eat."

He Huchen nodded heavily and burst into loud laughter: "Right, eat!"

On the other side of the battlefield, atop a dark rooftop, Liu Chengzong gazed toward the brightly illuminated campfire square formation. Huang Shengxiao's artillery troops had already moved into their preset positions. By his reckoning, the three garrison Supreme Commanders should have reached the edge of the campfires by now. He was wondering to himself: why is there no movement?

Then he saw, on the north and south sides of the campfire square formation, clusters of campfires slowly kindle to life. Not only had the government troops not entered the campfire formation, they had instead lit their own campfires, illuminating the dark flanks of the battlefield.

Liu Chengzong asked himself inwardly: Are they not planning to attack?

Immediately, he rejected this conjecture in his mind. From the time the government troops had entered the earthen fort until now, they had had no time to eat. They should be very hungry.

But right after that, in the darkness to the east of the campfire square formation, a few scattered spots emitted a faint, blurry glow — impossible to see clearly.

He raised his telescope to look and was surprised to find that it seemed the government troops were lighting fires, setting up several large pots and preparing to cook a meal.

This couldn't help but make Liu Chengzong somewhat regret lifting the siege on those two thousand Guyuan troops... Lifting the siege had been to seek a better opportunity to devour the main government force, but from the current look of things, if the government troops had food to eat, they probably would not be in a hurry to attack.

Had he known this earlier, he would have taken the risk of directly engaging the government troops and devoured those two thousand men first.

"Basang, have your men first — no, half a battalion. Have half a battalion sleep first." Liu Chengzong gave the order to Basang in the landlord's courtyard that served as his command headquarters. Then he sent someone to relay the same order to Huang Shengxiao: "One of the two artillery Battalion Commanders is to sleep. This battle will likely start tomorrow."

His entire army was sunk in darkness. The surrounding area was all villages where the tribal soldiers and Mongol soldiers had earlier avoided smallpox. The soldiers had lived here for over a month and knew the terrain very well. In each battalion, only the courtyard where the officers were stationed had simple lanterns hung, emitting a dim, dusky light.

This bit of light was very hard to detect even a hundred paces away. The entire battlefield exuded an artificially manufactured atmosphere of terror.

Darkness itself made people tense, let alone with the enemy at their side. Every rustle of wind and stir of grass was enough to make one see an ambush behind every bush.

Only, this pressure was not merely imposed upon the hearts of the enemy troops — Liu Chengzong was shrouded in the same pressure.

Fan Sanlang climbed onto the tiled roof and gazed eastward, but saw only an expanse of pitch blackness. Even the glow of the campfires seemed shrouded in a layer of thick fog; nothing was clear. She said: "Commander, go inside and sleep for a while. I'll stay up here and call you if the enemy makes a move."

Liu Chengzong let out an easy laugh and slowly shook his head.

He thought to himself, how strong a heart would one need to fall asleep in this situation? Unless you let him ride his horse and lead the army west — he could sleep a whole night in the saddle. But encamped here, as long as this battle was not over, he would not be able to sleep even by tomorrow night.

Liu Chengzong said: "You go sleep. I might doze a bit in the latter half of the night; come up and take over for me then."

Fan Sanlang knew in her heart she could not persuade him, so she nodded lightly and was just about to descend when suddenly a miserable shriek rang out from the distance, echoing through the river valley. The eerie, strange cries of the Mongol soldiers immediately reverberated in the darkness, and a swath of black shadows swept past the campfire formation in the middle of the battlefield, trailing huge, elongated shadows as they moved eastward.

Almost without need for any words, anyone could feel the commotion this sudden, shocking cry brought to the army.

Liu Chengzong shouted toward the drummers and flag-bearers in the courtyard: "Central Army, hold fast! Watch the lanterns!"

The drummers, their nerves taut, had already raised their drumsticks. Hearing this, their lifted hands slowly lowered. The flag-bearers swiftly hung two lanterns onto the lantern-flagpole fitted with a crossbeam and slowly raised the great banner upright in the courtyard.

Two bright lanterns rose above the courtyard. Then, one by one, the surrounding courtyards each hoisted two lanterns. In the darkness, armored warriors gripping their weapons looked up toward the nearest courtyard. Seeing the two lanterns lit as promised, the commotion subsided at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Standing on the rooftop, Liu Chengzong let out a breath of relief. Only then did he raise his telescope to look toward the battlefield. It was too far and too dark; he could see nothing. He could only make out pot-like objects set up over the blurry campfires of the enemy formation — still the same scene as before.

A moment later, a mounted scout arrived at a gallop along the road, holding a lantern in one hand and a yellow flag in the other, and reported: "Commander, a small group of enemy troops tried to sneak over on the southern road. They ran straight into the Tatar soldiers of the Fishing Battalion and were driven off."

Liu the Lion's inner tension eased slightly. He waited a moment before letting out a laugh and ordered the scout to tell the Mongol commanders on the front line west of the campfires to be wary of the enemy — there would likely be another attack soon.

Darkness magnifies unease. Once the scouts returned, Liu Chengzong sat on the hip-and-gable roof of the landlord's compound, breathing deep, forcing himself to calm down and think through why the enemy would try to break through at this hour.

Two possibilities. The first is routine — probing the front line in the dark before a meal, to avoid being attacked while the troops are eating. The second possibility — the cooking fires are a feint, meant to make him see them cooking.

A ruse to lower his guard, the prelude to a night assault.

Liu Chengzong thought briefly, then decided to discard his pointless speculation. Whatever they were up to, constant harassment was never wrong.

He sent for a scout and ordered him to relay a command to Xie Erhu: "It is impolite not to return a gift. Have the horse troops ready for harassment. Even if they really are eating, don't let them eat in peace — and get a clear picture of the government army's strength."

He did not, however, rescind his order for half the soldiers of Basang's and Huang Shengxiao's units to rest.

Though his brief self-doubt had not yet fully faded, Liu Chengzong did not believe Yang Yao's offensive in the east had stalled. On the contrary, the eastern operation should have been highly successful.

Because if the government army were in full pursuit of Yang Yao, no one would dare garrison the earthen fort, still less pursue westward.

The enemy force to the east now numbered at least five thousand. Adding the thousand-odd Guyuan troops he had let slip away, Liu Chengzong reckoned their strength could not be less than six thousand.

That being so, even if the government troops got a meal tonight, they had no idea what was happening in the east. The three garrison armies must have lost contact with each other — otherwise they would not be eating here, where supply trains could reach them; they would have gone back to the earthen fort to eat.

"I understand now!"

Liu Chengzong muttered to himself on the rooftop. When he looked east again, his eyes were brimming with confidence. The resolve that had briefly wavered hardened once more into absolute certainty: "You are… bluffing."

He did not need to wait for the Mongol scouts to finish their reconnaissance. He immediately ordered the scout: "Ride fast and tell General Wang he'll be sleeping in the saddle tonight. The drill infantry battalion must reach Mijiatai before daybreak. I need them in the fight first thing tomorrow morning."

Just as the scout's hoofbeats sounded outside the command compound, beyond the distant darkness past the ring of campfires, shouts of battle rose and fell, now near, now far — Xie Erhu's men had moved.

Ever since seeing the drill horse battalion in action, Xie Erhu had been quietly burning with competitive fire. Though the six thousand men of his Fishing Battalion had been handpicked before the campaign, next to the drill horse battalion they still looked like a ragtag band.

Yet this night battle was a fine chance for him to prove himself. In professional terms his Mongol horse troops were far inferior, but when it came to scattering and rallying in skirmish warfare, he believed the Mongols held a clear edge.

Only, the fight turned out far more chaotic than he had imagined.

He Huchen stood within the army formation. The first probing thrust westward had just ended on the left flank. Being discovered was within his expectations; what he had not expected was that Liu Chengzong would place the Mongols so close to the ring of campfires.

The cavalrymen tasked with infiltration had barely crossed the firelight — some were not even out of the lit zone — when they were struck by arrows loosed from the dark.

Fortunately, noisy as the fighting outside was, it posed no real threat to his scouts… The scouts brought him an enemy projectile: a wooden arrow with a wooden shaft and no fletching.

According to the soldier, the arrowhead was not wood — it was probably bone, tooth, or sharpened stone — but it seemed not to have been tied on securely. It came off when they pulled the arrow from the soldier's padded armor, and in the dark outside, no one could find it.

Anyone hearing such a report would crack a smile. What on a battlefield could be more heartening than the enemy using weapons three thousand years behind your own?

It also slightly dispelled the tension that the darkness had bred in He Huchen's heart.

He looked down at the iron pot disguised with armor and wood, pondering at what moment tonight Liu Chengzong would be most off guard, when the rumble of hoofbeats rose again from the left flank, and at the same moment a whistling arrow shrieked across the right flank.

But he now knew the true strength and weakness of the Mongol equipment, so he felt no concern. He simply ordered his men to hold firm, and to greet anyone who drew near with three-eyed guns and breech-loading swivel guns.

Moments later, hoofbeats began circling in the darkness beyond the formation. The breech-loading swivel guns, packed with grapeshot, fired back now and then in the direction from which the arrows came.

Just when the three-garrison government troops thought this would drag on for a long while, strange, eerie cries suddenly rose from the Mongol lines. Then wave upon wave of horsemen seemed to recede like the tide, only to surge close again moments later.

He Huchen assumed this was yet another harassment — until the pounding hoofbeats broke through the safe distance. Out of the darkness, a column of riders closed rapidly on the formation's southeastern corner from behind, and then the crackle of gunfire erupted like popping beans.

The sound was clearly different from the three-eyed guns — these were not government-issue firearms.

Zhong Bao, who had been massing horse troops at Nanshan since sundown, now charged and fired across one corner of the battlefield, pouring volley after volley of bullets into the government ranks, slicing off a corner at a sharp slant before pulling back eastward and vanishing into the darkness.