Chapter 367: A Major Matter

Guyuan Regional Commander Yang Qi coined a saying.

He Huchen walks into a campfire formation — drinking poison to quench thirst.

On the other side of the battlefield, Liu Chengzong also coined a saying.

He Huchen walks into a campfire formation — exactly what I was hoping for.

The riddle-maker He Huchen of course knew too: this campfire formation was Liu Chengzong baking flatbread — up to no good.

But he had no choice. If he let his heavy and light cavalry keep charging back and forth in the dark, his army would scatter under the strain, and what awaited him then would naturally be a massive rout under cover of night.

Entering the campfire formation meant facing nothing more than cannon fire, and He Huchen had his own plan for dealing with cannon fire.

With campfires dozens or even a hundred paces outside the formation providing light, the great combined array of Guyuan and Ningxia troops, Taozhou native soldiers, and Lanzhou Guard troops won a brief moment to catch their breath.

While ordering each unit to tally casualties, He Huchen brought out his specialty, commanding his outer-ring officers to deploy firearms and cannons, using breech-loading Frankish cannons on the west side to return fire against the enemy artillery.

When the order reached the frontline artillerymen, they all groaned: "Sir, the enemy cannons are at least a li away — we can't hit accurately!"

The company commander frowned. "Just fire when I tell you to fire."

In truth, the company commander knew that the marshal's order wasn't really about whether they could mount effective return fire — at least their own Frankish cannons firing back would boost their soldiers' morale.

When enemy shells crashed into their own formation, the soldiers who weren't hit could face it with more courage, knowing at least their own cannons were firing too.

As for those hit by the shells — what they thought didn't matter. The men were gone; whatever they thought was useless.

The outer ring of campfires brought reassurance. He Huchen and Yang Qi met briefly, exchanged notes on their respective duties, settled on the plan of Guyuan troops to the south and Ningxia troops to the north, and then parted ways.

The two of them could not stand together. Liu Chengzong's artillery was still firing — if one shell sent both of them to heaven, then this entire army would be well and truly buried.

In truth, arranging these two formations in front and back was quite difficult.

Yang Qi's soldiers were originally famine refugees and roving bandits. Put them in the rear and they might just run off at any moment; put them in the front and they might turn around and crash through the Ningxia troops behind them. He Huchen's Ningxia troops couldn't be placed in front either — what if they defected on the spot?

So the two of them could only go one south, one north, splitting into left and right, hoping not to affect each other.

In truth, with the battle having come to this, both men harbored plenty of grievances. But as commanders-in-chief, they understood better than anyone what mattered more, and in their brief meeting they both tacitly suppressed their emotions.

Now with firelight illuminating the surroundings on all sides, the enemy cavalry could only prowl the perimeter, not daring to come harass them, and the commanders of the two armies could finally order their soldiers to dig trenches.

Though they had no proper tools at hand — all the baggage was to the east — there were always more solutions than problems. Soldiers gripped their helmets and spears and used the helmets to dig earth. In this season of soft soil, the efficiency wasn't bad.

They had done the same in the past when encountering Mongol troops beyond the passes.

Fortunately, Liu Chengzong did nothing to stop their digging, and the frequency of the shelling even dropped somewhat.

Soon the troop count came in: 9,500 men remained. The two garrison marshals wanted to weep but had no tears.

They had originally had 12,000 troops. They left 2,000 soldiers at the earthen fort, including over a thousand wounded, and advanced westward with 10,000 men to rescue the 2,000 trapped in the west.

They had rescued the trapped troops as they wished — at that point their strength should have been 12,000 — yet only 9,500-odd remained. What had they even come here for?

Since the casualty figures compiled by each unit were very clear, Yang Qi and He Huchen could both see that the 9,500-odd troops included over 400 wounded.

And the enemy's several charges had all been small-squad scale — their killed couldn't be very exaggerated, at most 500 to 1,000 men.

Which meant at least 1,500 to 2,000 men had broken away and fled during the night march.

Many units — entire battalion headquarters, entire company headquarters — had simply vanished while marching in formation. The officers above had no idea how the men disappeared. The highest-ranking officer among the vanished was the right battalion commander of the Guyuan Camp's Left Thousand Headquarters, named Zhang Zhen.

The moment Yang Qi heard that name, he started cursing, because even the name Zhang Zhen was one he had given him — a trusted subordinate. He knew Zhang Zhen well, so his words were absolute: "That little bastard defected to the enemy!"

In reality, just as Yang Qi predicted, outside the campfire formation at that moment, Xie Erhu's 3,000 Mongol cavalry were still circling on guard, but Zhong Bao, who had charged for a spell, was already leading over a thousand disarmed Guyuan troops westward.

Zhang Zhen had shed his armor and given up his weapons. He held Zhong Bao's bridle and followed step by step as they walked forward.

Zhong Bao said, "You said you're from Bao'an? I hear they produce saltpeter there, bad for farming. I know a firecracker maker — he fled famine from Bao'an to Yan'an Prefecture and became a tenant farmer for the Grand Marshal."

"Yes, Tianxing Kuiba. I took to the hills in the fourth year of Tianqi. I used to be called Zhang the Fourth. Everyone in Bao'an knows us four brothers."

Battalion Commander Zhang Zhen of the Guyuan Camp led the horse forward. Guards ahead carried torches, and he watched his step carefully as he spoke: "After the second year of Chongzhen, everyone called me Bee-Sting Needle. I had some men and horses, but small-time stuff — nothing compared to the famous chiefs."

Zhong Bao thought of that firecracker maker, Old Third Huang, who later followed King Gao the Charger, then asked, "The second year of Chongzhen?"

Zhong Bao thought to himself, that was truly a special year. That was the year he himself had followed Liu Chengzong, so it left a deep impression on him. He asked casually, "What big thing did you do that year to earn that bandit name?"

Zhang Zhen looked thoroughly unlucky, apparently not fond of the bandit name. "That year there was an Old Huihui in Yellow Dragon Mountain, being chased north by Mobile Corps Commander Li Bei. That Li Bei pursued fiercely — a lot of horses died, right there on Bao'an County's land. So I led my brothers behind them collecting horse carcasses."

"Li Bei struck too fast. Old Huihui fled into the Mu Us Desert. When Li Bei turned back, he ran right into me. I was still young that year — my eldest brother was leading the band. My eldest brother was killed, and during the escape my second and third brothers got separated too. After that, people called me Bee-Sting Needle."

Zhang Zhen told his story as if it were a joke to curry favor with Zhong Bao, but in truth that battle had been anything but easy for him. He had taken three arrows in the back and crossed four mountains before escaping with his life.

"Later I joined King Hengtian. Before the great push into Shanxi, I had the honor of seeing the Grand Marshal once from a distance at Qingjian. Li the Old Jackal rose up in response to King Hengtian, and I delivered a batch of arms and equipment to him. After that, I followed Li the Old Jackal."

Zhong Bao's eyes widened at this. Although he himself had joined Liu Chengzong later, he knew Liu Chengzong's early experiences very well. When this Bee-Sting Needle was defeated by Li Bei, that was exactly the time Grand Marshal Liu was recruiting soldiers and buying horses in Yan'an Prefecture — he had recruited quite a few of Old Huihui's scattered remnants and routed bandits back then.

Hearing that Bee-Sting Needle had also served under Li the Old Jackal, Zhong Bao laughed. "General Li is now serving as a colonel in Kangning. These connections are getting closer and closer."

"That's close? General Zhong, you don't know the half of it — there's even closer."

Zhang Zhen shook his head with emotion and said, "When Li the Old Jackal attacked Heshui, I was the first to scale the wall. I got knocked back down and was wounded. When word came that Grand Marshal He was leading an army to suppress us, and Li the Old Jackal sent someone to Yan'an to ask the Grand Marshal for help — I was right there beside him. I nearly joined the Grand Marshal then and there."

At the time, Zhang Zhen had been injured in a fall and couldn't run. For his safety, Li the Old Jackal had left him to recover in a commoner's home in Heshui.

But it all came down to luck and nerve. When He Huchen marched his troops to Heshui, the moment they reached Ziwu Ridge, Zhang Zhen was so terrified he fled at once and joined up with Liu Daojiang and Liu Daohai.

Listening to his account, Zhong Bao thought to himself that this Bee-Sting Needle really did have quite a history with the Grand Marshal. He smiled. "Joining the Grand Marshal now isn't too late."

Bee-Sting Needle felt that his connection to Liu Chengzong might run even a little deeper than Zhong Bao imagined.

He had followed Liu the Fifth and Liu the Sixth in besieging Huan County, only to have their thousand-man formation shattered by a furious passerby — and that passerby in a rage was none other than Cao Wenzhao, who had just been beaten half to death by Liu the Lion.

But after that, he had no further connection to Liu Chengzong. He followed Shen Yiyuan, shaved his head in the Tartar style, and was chased and beaten for three hundred li by Zhang Yingchang, who mistook him for a Mongol. Then he got into a huge fight with real Mongols over uneven division of loot after a robbery.

He had barely made it back from south of the Gobi with his battered remnants to join Shen Yikui, and half a month later Shen Yikui surrendered. Not being part of the inner circle, he got no official post and was disbanded along with over a hundred thousand peasants.

Fortunately, Hong Junyou rose up again, giving him a way out. He drifted into service under King Wang the Tiger and came within a hair's breadth of escaping into the Qinling Mountains with him. In the end, he was surrounded by Guyuan Regional Commander Yang Qi at Chencang Post Station in Baoji County, Fengxiang Prefecture. With no way out, he surrendered to Yang Qi.

His band had a core of experienced veterans. Yang Qi, who was short on troops, valued him highly. He thought the bandit name Bee-Sting Needle sounded bad, and Zhang the Fourth sounded like a joke, so he gave him the name Zhang Zhen and appointed him battalion commander.

In all fairness, Yang Qi treated him well. As a main-force unit, the Bee Battalion got preferential treatment in the distribution of arms and armor, and there was no discrimination in daily treatment either. If he couldn't get grain rations, no one else could either; if he couldn't get soldier's pay, no one else could either.

Zhong Bao settled Zhang Zhen's unit in the rear, then went first to the command headquarters to see Liu Chengzong and reported his background in detail.

In truth, Liu the Lion didn't much care for this kind of surrender.

Whether a man surrendered or not generally fell into four types.

Some surrendered before the battle began, some during the fighting, and some after the battle ended.

Those who surrendered before the battle saw the writing on the wall and judged the situation wisely; those who refused to surrender during the battle understood their fate and accepted that death comes to all.

But the vast majority were utterly defeated, spared by luck, and surrendered with no other choice — they too had done their duty.

If these three types appeared in Liu the Lion's army, he would respect those who never surrendered, and he could accept officers surrendering after fulfilling their duty. He did not like those who surrendered before the battle, but if it truly happened, it was no great matter.

Only those who wavered mid-battle and made strange moves — they were neither clever nor dutiful, and even less worthy of respect. In any army, a man who does this is a sure omen of a great defeat.

In Liu Chengzong's eyes, this squad commander was exactly that sort of man. That was why he disliked Zhang Zhen. But liking or disliking was one thing; what to do and when to do it was another.

He admired Ye Guoqi that much, yet when the time came to kill him, he still had to kill him.

The bonfire formation was a double-edged sword. His men could forget about a silent surprise assault, but the government troops could forget about a silent escape too.

It was simply a trade-off. For him, routing the enemy in a night battle was easy, but annihilating them was hard. He was confident he could rout the enemy, but he was not confident his own army would not collapse in the process of routing them.

Collapse was not what he feared. What he feared was regrouping the army after a collapse. In that, he was no match for He Huchen and Yang Qi.

When Yang Qi and He Huchen regrouped their troops, they only needed to speak Han speech. For him to regroup his troops, he would need to be fluent in three languages.

So keeping up the harassment until daybreak before launching the attack was to his advantage. If his elder brother in the north and Yang Yao in the east both sent good news, this battle could even be delayed another three days — delayed until He Huchen starved to death.

This was the first time since Liu Chengzong raised his banner that he had, through his own efforts, made the battle unfold according to his design. Proud, at ease, and confident, he gave Xie Erhu the order to continue the harassment until daybreak, then decided to meet this Zhang Zhen.

The moment Zhang Zhen entered the courtyard, he kowtowed to the ground and declared in a ringing voice, "Bee-tail Sting pays his respects to the Grand Commander!"

Liu Chengzong had heard from Zhong Bao earlier that this Bee-tail Sting was a local bandit of hunter origin from Bao'an County in Yan'an Prefecture. Seeing him now, though he wore no armor, his shoulders were broad and his arms long — clearly a skilled bowman.

He told Bee-tail Sting to rise and said with a smile, "It is not easy to meet a fellow from Yan'an here in Hehuang. Zhang Zhen, the outcome is not yet decided — why surrender to me? Did Yang Qi treat you poorly?"

Zhang Zhen had not expected Liu Chengzong to ask him this upon meeting. He knew in his heart that what impression Liu Chengzong would form of him depended entirely on how he answered next, so he froze for a moment.

It was Zhong Bao who prompted him: "When the Grand Commander tells you to rise, you rise."

Only then did Zhang Zhen get up. Having thought through his words, he said, "In reply to the Grand Commander, Master Yang treated this humble one very well."

"This humble one was unwilling to be the Grand Commander's enemy, but having received Master Yang's grace of accepting my surrender, I served as his vanguard. When two squads of brothers were wiped out by a single volley on the Henan Bridge, I had no complaint. It is only that this battle is truly fought in confusion. This humble one does not wish for all his brothers to die here."

"Oh."

Liu Chengzong's impression of Bee-tail Sting shifted slightly in his mind. At the very least, the man had a nimble enough brain.

Listening to a man speak is about hearing what he does not say. When Bee-tail Sting said he had no complaint about being the vanguard, it meant he did have complaints in his heart. When he said he was unwilling to be an enemy, it meant that if victory were possible, he could be an enemy too.

The most crucial part was that the battle was fought in confusion — otherwise, as long as he surrendered, he would put in good effort.

Liu Chengzong nodded in acknowledgment, then immediately asked, "Those two squads on the bridge — were they your soldiers? Good soldiers. That centurion was good too."

Before withdrawing from the earthen fort, he had been deeply impressed by the centurion on the bridge advancing with his severed hand. He asked, "Is he still alive?"

Bee-tail Sting shook his head and said, "This humble one does not know either. His name is Zhao Kebian. He was formerly a squad leader at Willow Tree Gully in Yulin Garrison. The wounded from both garrisons were all left at Hekou Fort. If he could survive through today, he might still be alive. But there are soldiers with pox over there."

Pox or no pox, Liu Chengzong did not care. What he cared about more was that there were wounded soldiers to the east as well. He asked, "How many men are in the fort?"

"Over eight hundred wounded soldiers, and more than a thousand more outside the fort."

Liu Chengzong followed up immediately: "If you went over there, could you persuade them to surrender?"

By coming over himself, Bee-tail Sting had in fact already persuaded others to surrender — not just his own squad commander unit, but seven or eight centurions and squad leaders had followed him in surrendering.

Now hearing Liu Chengzong ask him this, Bee-tail Sting nodded repeatedly and said, "If the Grand Commander sends this humble one over, I can give it a try."

"Good!"

A look of delight showed in Liu Chengzong's eyes. He turned to Zhong Bao and said, "There is no time to lose. Take him there now and persuade the troops in the earthen fort to surrender."

Zhong Bao and Bee-tail Sting immediately accepted the order and were just about to walk out of the small courtyard when they heard Liu Chengzong say, "Wait — I nearly forgot an important matter!"

Bee-tail Sting turned back, puzzled, and saw Liu Chengzong pointing at him. "Eating is an important matter. Eat first."