Chapter 402: The Vulgar Words of a Shameless Old Thief

On the high ground of Muge Beach, Batur Hongtaiji raised his eyes and gazed around, his heart full of blessings for the State Preceptor Khan's good health.

He desperately wanted to curse someone. The plan was for him to hold the rear and block Ligdan Khutugtu Khan's pursuing troops, but instead several thousand Han cavalry appeared out of nowhere, and on top of that, the State Preceptor Khan was gone.

These Han reinforcements kept growing in number, yet the Khoshut reinforcements that should have received word long ago never returned, leaving him alone to face an enemy twice his own strength.

Truth be told, for Batur Hongtaiji, facing an enemy twice his strength wasn't that big a problem — if he couldn't win, he could always run.

The real problem was that he couldn't reach the State Preceptor Khan, and Yangqu West City had been occupied, making it impossible for him to assess the situation to the west, so he dared not retreat in that direction.

And by digging in at Muge Beach, firearms became his greatest advantage. At first, Batur Hongtaiji was especially confident in this — the Dzungars' biggest edge among the Oirat tribes was precisely their firearms.

But that pride was smashed to the ground and shattered to pieces in the battle against Wang Wenxiu.

They deployed their vaunted camel-borne musket formation, yet could only fight the heavy arquebusiers to a draw. When the jingal teams joined the fray, they were shot to shreds.

And those few cannons they had looted were truly useless, especially the ones they'd bought — they paid a high price, but in battle they were completely suppressed, offering no value for money whatsoever.

Batur Hongtaiji had brought nine cannons of varying specifications into this campaign precisely to test on the battlefield which cannon design was most effective, so that later he could go back, smash the Yarkand Khanate, and get craftsmen to cast his own cannons.

Before this, his favorite was the camel gun.

A little cannon under three chi long and weighing around a hundred jin — gunner and ammunition included, a single camel could haul it running all over the place. The recoil wasn't strong either; the camel just had to lie down and it could fire, then stand up and run right after.

But now it seemed, what he most wanted to make was the bronze Hongwu Emperor in the hands of Guide Battalion Commander Bao Hu.

Although Bao Hu's Hongwu Emperor was an old cannon cast in the fourteenth century, with a short barrel that gave it a shorter range, a spherical powder chamber that made its structure less than ideal, and relatively lower power —

but that was only relative. With a seven-cun caliber and a weight of over two hundred jin, no matter how small, it couldn't be that small.

At the same time, being cast of bronze and having a short barrel meant it required less industrial capability, which matched the metallurgical level the Dzungar tribe could achieve after developing a bit further.

Batur Hongtaiji didn't actually understand all this. In truth, this knowledge all came from his newly promoted guard — Dai Daozi.

As the battle between the Dzungars and Wang Wenxiu unfolded, Dai Daozi's status within this army shot straight up. Batur Hongtaiji discovered that this Han man from the Tumed tribe simply knew far too many things.

Though some of his snide remarks were rather grating to the ear, making Batur want to send Dai Daozi to the Western Paradise to meet the Buddha, the course of the battle left much to be desired.

Seeing the Dzungars about to trade musket fire with Wang Wenxiu, Dai Daozi folded his arms and said, "Hongtaiji, stop shooting. The muskets they're carrying are called heavy arquebuses — same range as your muskets, but the barrels are thicker. You'll come off worse trading shots with them."

And then they came off worse.

Dai Daozi then saw the jingals join the fight and dragged the Hongtaiji toward the rear: "That thing's called a jingal — it can punch through half a squad. Move further back."

And then half a squad got punched through.

Truth be told, he didn't really want to drag the Hongtaiji, but if he didn't, he couldn't move back himself either. He was very reluctant about it.

This left Batur Hongtaiji looking at Dai Daozi with a very strange expression — the guy was like a damn prophet.

After fierce exchanges of fire lasting half a day, Wang Wenxiu chose to continue the siege and ceased large-scale shooting. The pressure on Batur Hongtaiji eased considerably, yet he sank into deeper despair.

Because the camel fortress had truly become a fortress of camels — the camels on the outer perimeter that had been made to lie down with their legs bound were nearly all shot dead, never to stand again. Wang Wenxiu's musket fire became difficult to make effective, and the Dzungar tribe had no intention of charging out of the camel fortress, causing the battle to fall into a stalemate.

Batur Hongtaiji did not consult the Dzungar nobles and princes, but instead held great expectations of the guards around him, asking them, "What should we do now?"

His thinking was this: he himself was the most outstanding noble in all the Oirat — why ask those other nobles? Better to ask these guards from various lands and tribes; together they amounted to wide experience and knowledge.

Unfortunately, no one knew.

His gaze finally turned to the distracted Dai Daozi. Dai Daozi said lightly, "Surrender, then."

Batur Hongtaiji discovered that in this world, there are some people who just keep dancing back and forth across the line between life and death — their will to go to the Western Paradise simply cannot be stopped.

But Dai Daozi's next words changed his mind: "Why must the Hongtaiji fixate only on this battle? What does the outcome of this battle have to do with the Dzungars? If we win, the Dzungars might gain some paltry advantage. Even if we lose, it does no great harm to the Tian Shan."

"But if the Hongtaiji and the various princes die in Qinghai, I fear the Oirat will surely fall into chaos."

Batur Hongtaiji looked at Dai Daozi, thinking to himself: Never mind that you're ugly as hell — you sure think pretty thoughts.

While Mongols all over the world were building cities and settling down under the pressure of bitter cold and foreign enemies, half-herding and half-farming to strengthen themselves, the Oirat were the last great confederation clinging to nomadic tradition.

Across the vast lands north and south of the Tian Shan, to this day they did not have a single small town, not even one just fifty paces wide.

Batur Hongtaiji had always wanted to build a city, but the Oirat's organizational structure made it impossible for him to do so... if he built a city, it would further provoke the Khoshut tribe and shatter the existing balance among the Oirat.

The situation with the Khoshut tribe building a city was exactly the same.

Everyone understood that internal power struggles were one thing, but letting outside enemies reap the benefits from infighting was another.

But having no cities meant that their confederation's organizational structure was, in fact, still extremely loose, held together only by the tribal leaders' sense of the greater good — they had to band together in alliance just to survive.

Thus, although the confederation was no stranger to internal strife, the degree of infighting was still far lower than that of the surrounding Khalkha, Kazakhs, and Yarkand.

Since they had gone to war as an alliance, with the battle still unfinished, the Dzungars could not be the first to surrender or flee.

Otherwise, even if Liu Chengzong were a living bodhisattva who could let his entire army return to the Tian Shan, the Oirat tribes might not fall into chaos, but the Dzungar tribe would surely be consumed by the fury of the nobles from the other tribes who had lost fathers, sons, and husbands.

Conversely, what if Liu Chengzong were a living King Yama who simply offed him — wouldn't the Dzungar tribe be finished soon after?

Surrender, in his view, was the worst of the worst options.

But just at that moment, riders came galloping around the Han army positions besieging them, shouting some unintelligible message. Batur Hongtaiji immediately tensed up.

Yet the imagined massive assault did not come. Instead, tens of thousands of Han soldiers burst into cheers, and then sent a mountain-toppling, sea-roaring shout toward their formation.

The Hongtaiji looked at Dai Daozi in confusion, and saw the tall Han man wearing an Oirat hairstyle reveal a deeply meaningful smile.

Dai Daozi shook his head and gave a soft snort: "They're saying the Khoshut tribe was defeated on the west bank of the Yellow River — twenty thousand men beaten by the Grand Marshal personally leading seven thousand troops. The State Preceptor is gravely wounded and has already been sent to Xining for treatment."

"Oh, and among the taijis who surrendered, there's one called Duo'erji — are you Oirat names all this fierce?"

Dai Daozi listened as he went on: "What rank is Durbo? The people outside say Durbo Dalai has also surrendered."

Batur Hongtaiji, in his shock, looked deeply skeptical: these Han people made their surrender appeal sound so real.

Not long after, a surrender letter written in Mongolian was shot over. Batur Hongtaiji, full of worry, lost his composure and strode quickly to the front line, snatching the letter right out of the hands of a front-line jaisang.

It was a battle report with an attached roster of all the nobles who had surrendered, died in battle, or gone missing. The account of the battle's course was written in extraordinary detail, making Batur's heart pound with fear as he read.

Six shichen.

From morning to night, six full shichen — the State Preceptor Khan had seized every advantage and committed all his elite cavalry, yet was smashed in a backhand blow by the Marshal's Office Han troops with only forty percent of his strength.

At the very end of the letter were two lines of Chinese characters written in a bold, sweeping hand. Batur Hongtaiji could not read them, so he passed the letter to Dai Daozi: "What does this say?"

Dai Daozi took one look and laughed: "Today I personally lead the great army, arriving within days. The heavy cannons have been transported here — then jade and stone will be indistinguishable. I sincerely hope that you, sir, for the sake of your officers and men's lives, will remove your armor in person and come surrender with due ceremony, thus securing a marquisate... Liu Chengzong. This is a letter personally written by the Grand Marshal."

This time, Batur Hongtaiji had no thought of sending Dai Daozi to the Western Paradise. He simply turned around in silence, looking around at the corpses littering the camel fortress on the high ground, and remained speechless for a long time.

In truth, it wasn't that he couldn't accept defeat — it was that surrendering like this truly left him unwilling to accept it.

They had clearly been able to chase Lindan Khudunturu all over the ground — how was it that the moment the Marshal's Headquarters joined the war, they were the ones being beaten and sent rolling across the ground?

Suddenly, Batur Khong Tayiji turned his head and asked Dai Daozi, "What do you think — is this letter real or fake?"

Dai Daozi had been off to the side secretly enjoying himself. Hearing the question, he nodded naturally and said, "Real."

Because he understood Liu Chengzong. The Marshal was a man full of crafty schemes... full of resourceful strategies. Even if the west had not yet decided a victor, having someone use a fake battle report to deceive the Dzungars was not impossible.

But if it were a deception, Dai Daozi believed Liu Chengzong would absolutely never sign his name on the letter. If he signed anything, he'd sign someone else's name.

This letter was signed, and it was indeed Liu Chengzong's handwriting. It had to be real.

Since it was real, that meant Batur Khong Tayiji had saved his own life. Had he been in the Khoshut formation, he might well have been blasted to death by cannon fire already.

But immediately after, Dai Daozi realized — his answer had come out a little too naturally.

Yet to his surprise, Batur Khong Tayiji did not press the matter at all. He nodded, then continued asking, "This position of enfeoffment as a marquis — what does it mean? 'Come with proper ceremony and surrender' — what ceremony?"

Hah.

Dai Daozi thought to himself, this shameless old scoundrel's crude words — probably only Wang Situ knew what sort of ceremony that ceremony was. How would he know?

"The position of enfeoffment as a marquis is most likely a nice way of putting it — it means the Khong Tayiji would still hold noble status after surrendering. As for the ceremony of surrender..." The question was quite difficult, making Dai Daozi scratch his head and ears. "Kowtow when you ought to kowtow, declare yourself a vassal when you ought to declare yourself a vassal?"

Batur Khong Tayiji spoke again, "Noble status... I've heard your Marshal's Headquarters often captures people and sends them to open mountains and mine. Does that mean I won't have to go?"

Dai Daozi nodded in acknowledgment, and only then stared at the Khong Tayiji, dumbfounded.

He saw the Khong Tayiji snort, with an expression that said he'd known all along. "Across the battle lines, the State Preceptor couldn't even name my firearms. For you to know the Marshal's Headquarters' military equipment this well, you must be someone close to Marshal Liu... What is your name?"

Seeing that his cover was blown, Dai Daozi dropped the act. In any case, his side already held absolute advantage, and he couldn't escape even if he tried. Better to thoroughly persuade Batur to surrender. He nodded and said, "I am indeed called Dai Daozi, Battalion Commander of the Marshal's Headquarters' scout cavalry. I originally intended to infiltrate the Khoshut to assassinate the State Preceptor, but was saved by the Khong Tayiji."

Batur nodded. At this point, with all roads ending in ruin, the Han army was in no hurry to attack, and his own urgency was useless. He simply waved Dai Daozi into the great tent and unhurriedly poured fermented mare's milk wine, asking, "There's one thing I've never understood. What did the Chahar do to persuade the Marshal to join the war? Have they already declared themselves vassals to the Marshal?"

"I don't know."

Dai Daozi shook his head honestly and said, "The Marshal has never liked Khudunturu, but Khudunturu is an enemy of the Jin Kingdom, and you have declared yourselves vassals to the Jin Kingdom."

Batur Khong Tayiji's expression in that instant was exceedingly complex, even more astonished than when he heard of the State Preceptor Khan's defeat. "Just because of that? Because the Oirat, thousands of li to the west, sent a single tribute letter to the Jin Kingdom thousands of li to the east, your Marshal sends troops to aid the Chahar?"

"I see you have no shortage of Mongols yourselves. The Chahar Khan is your enemy!"

Dai Daozi sneered. "What is there to fear from a stray dog? You, who send tribute to the Jin Kingdom — you are our enemies."

Batur Khong Tayiji's face carried an expression of inquiry. "Are you not afraid that the Great Khan will raise his arm in a single call, and all Mongols will rise up in response?"

"Can they rise up?" Dai Daozi expressed doubt at this, clapping his hands. "The Great Khan raises his arm in a single call — and flees from Zhangjiakou all the way to Qinghai."

He laughed. "What kind of world is this? The Han have rebelled against their emperor, and you Mongols have besieged the Northern Yuan Great Khan... Khong Tayiji, rather than thinking about matters like ours, you'd do better to think about the Dzungars. That's practical."

"Ah."

Batur let out a long sigh, with a strong sense of self-reproach, and said, "I thought I had recruited a Han soldier from the Tumed, and even wanted to bring you back with me to create a script. Who could have known you'd be a general of the Marshal's Headquarters."

Then he let it go, looked at Dai Daozi, and said, "As it happens, this works out. Declare myself a vassal and pay tribute, slaughter horses and swear an oath, kowtow and perform the rites — if you let me take my army and the surrendered nobles of the various tribes back to the Tianshan Mountains, I will comply with everything. The Oirat pledge to pay annual tribute from now on, and never invade again."

Dai Daozi caught the implication and shook his head. "The position of enfeoffment as a marquis in the Marshal's letter is, I fear, not that."

"Then what of it? Even if you confine us all in Qinghai or kill us all, you still cannot hold the lands north and south of the Tianshan Mountains. Today we marched five thousand li to fight, and though it ended in defeat, the day you march five thousand li across the great desert to the Tianshan Mountains, you will lose there just the same."

Dai Daozi was momentarily speechless. He had a rough idea in his mind, but when the words reached his lips, he did not know how to say them to the Khong Tayiji.

In the end, he could only ask, "Has the Khong Tayiji made ready to surrender?"

Once he received an affirmative answer, he let out a complete sigh of relief, rose, cupped his fists, and bowed. "I don't know how to say it, but I will relay the Khong Tayiji's words to the Grand Marshal. Since you intend to surrender, the Khong Tayiji will meet the Grand Marshal eventually. Perhaps then, you will have a different perspective."

"The Grand Marshal is a very special person."

－－－－－－Off-topic－－－－－－

Good afternoon!