Chapter 448

The man who marched troops from Liangzhou into the Zhuanglang River valley was Ding Shaoyin, Assistant Commander of the Liangzhou Guard.

Under orders from Hong Chengchou, the Three-Border Supreme Commander, he set out from Liangzhou Guard with three thousand troops, passed through Gulang Gorge, and garrisoned at Anyuan Post Town, keeping a distant watch on Zhuanglang Guard City.

Ding Shaoyin knew in his heart that the Three-Border Supreme Commander had little confidence in waging a decisive battle with heavy forces along the Zhuanglang River, so he too merely kept a distant watch, with no intention of advancing.

Yet during this period, he discovered he had missed the best opportunity to retake Zhuanglang Guard.

For the very day after he garrisoned at Anyuan Post Town, outpost cavalry who had pushed forward to the vicinity of Wusheng Post brought back word that the Mongol army inside Zhuanglang Guard had withdrawn from the city in large numbers.

But at the time, Ding Shaoyin, on one hand constrained by Hong Chengchou's orders and on the other fearing it was an enemy ruse to lure him out, did not immediately dispatch troops. By the time he came to his senses, it was already too late; he could only watch as those Tatar soldiers transported supplies into the city day after day, and the garrison at Zhuanglang Guard visibly swelled.

It was not until word of Lanzhou City's fall reached Gansu that Hong Chengchou moved from Liangzhou Guard to Gulang Gorge and issued the order for Ding Shaoyin to advance.

But by then the situation had changed. According to outpost cavalry reports, Zhuanglang Guard City now held at least six thousand troops, far exceeding the capability of Ding Shaoyin's own force. To assault the city by force would be profoundly unwise.

Fortunately, Hong Chengchou had been reasonably diligent in allocating supplies for this army. These three thousand men and horses were all banner troops of Liangzhou Guard, equipped with nine hundred warhorses, war wagons, cannons, and ample provisions.

The enemy was numerous, they were few, and the foe held a strong city.

Ding Shaoyin's plan was to advance step by step, securing his own force against annihilation by ambush first, then luring the Tatar troops out of the city for field battle, relying on superior field combat ability to rout their main force, and thereby seize the city.

His thinking was crystal clear. Unfortunately, as he slowly and deliberately led his army toward Zhuanglang Guard City, the garrison inside simply refused to take the bait, utterly indifferent to his provocations.

Even when he took a dangerous gamble and detached a chiliarch to lead banner troops around the guard city to the south, the garrison inside still would not be fooled.

Just like an iron turtle.

The twenty-third day of the first month, in the seventh year of the Chongzhen reign.

Day had barely begun to lighten. On a hillside eight li north of Zhuanglang Guard City, Ding Zizhen, eldest son of Liangzhou Guard Assistant Commander Ding Shaoyin, led outpost riders to observe the guard city from afar. Watching a supply convoy entering the city from the south, he furrowed his brow tightly.

An outpost rider rode up to report: "Young General, another five hundred."

Ding Zizhen nodded to show he understood, shook his head, and sat down on a rock, staring at the guard city utterly baffled. As if talking to himself, yet also as if demanding an answer from his retinue, he said: "Twelve days. Seven detachments with wagons and provisions have entered the city. What are they trying to do?"

No matter how he racked his brain, Ding Zizhen could not figure it out. He could neither fathom the purpose of moving troops here, nor the point of moving them in this way.

Whatever the case, the garrison of Zhuanglang Guard City had visibly multiplied. The city walls were thick with planted banners, and the troops rotating guard duty grew more numerous by the day.

Moreover, these supply convoys were not Tatars. Judging by their attire, they were all Han soldiers. Liu Chengzong's claim to the title of Khan and his hegemony in the Hexi Corridor rested precisely on his elite veterans of the Three Borders. The movements of this force inherently gripped men's hearts.

Faced with this situation, the officers of the Liangzhou army, including Ding Zizhen's father Ding Shaoyin, all believed the Marshal's Headquarters could only have three possible aims.

Either they were massing heavy troops to wage a decisive battle against the Gansu border army in the Zhuanglang River valley; or they intended to bottle up the Gansu army and strike straight into Guanzhong; and there was one vanishingly small possibility — that those seven supply detachments, each only four or five hundred strong, were meant to lure them in.

But that possibility was too remote. After all, they knew their own household's affairs. As hereditary officers of the guard, they understood the capabilities of their own banner troops.

To say the Liangzhou Guard banner troops, who had defended the frontier for generations, could not fight would be a barefaced lie. Yet guard banner troops indeed fell short of elite battalion troops in training, equipment, age, and many other respects.

At least in Ding Zizhen's eyes, he did not believe Liu Chengzong's elite corps would need to resort to petty tricks like luring the enemy to fight them.

But to say this was not a lure defied common sense, because just the day before yesterday, Ding Zizhen had led a force of household retainers and a chiliarch's troops past Zhuanglang Guard southward, and the garrison inside the city had remained utterly unmoved. Even today, the supply convoy's reinforcement strength had not changed — still five hundred men.

This made Ding Zizhen, a nineteen-year-old hereditary military officer-in-waiting, catch a whiff of something different. Once he obtained the intelligence he sought, he immediately galloped back to the Liangzhou army camp in the northern part of the river valley.

When he returned to camp, his father Ding Shaoyin was compiling intelligence scouted by outpost cavalry in the southwestern mountains. Pointing to information drawn on a sketch map, he said: "The outpost cavalry have detected a force of tribal soldiers garrisoned at West Datong River Fort. We just don't know their numbers yet. The tribesmen, born in the mountains and armed with firearms, are very cunning. They wounded several of my outpost riders and are not easy to approach."

Ding Shaoyin did not appear troubled by this matter.

For the officers of Liangzhou Guard were all more than familiar with the terrain of the Zhuanglang River valley — a landscape of two mountains pinching a single river. To the east lay the imperial court's Songshan defense system; to the west lay the West Datong River Fort, formerly held by Chieftain Lu.

If battle were to be fought here, the mountains to the west demanded even more vigilance from the Liangzhou army than the river valley itself. Even without sending scouts to investigate, one could guess there would be ambushers in the mountains.

Just as the court would set ambushes in Songshan.

Of course, Songshan needed no ambush. In the narrow sense, Songshan in the northwest referred to Maomao Mountain, connected to the Wushe Ridge, so named for its dense pine forests.

But in military terms, Songshan did not refer merely to Songshan Fort on the southern slopes of Maomao Mountain. It was a defense system stretching north to the Songshan frontier line abutting Liangzhou and Ningxia, west to the Zhuanglang River, and south to the New Songshan Border north of Lanzhou City.

Centered on Songshan Fort, this system covered ten defensive fortresses: Sishui Fort on the Liangzhou route; Tumen Fort, Dajing Garrison Town, Peijiaying Fort, and Abaling Fort on the Dajing route; and Hongshui Fort, Sanyanjing Fort, Da Lutang Town, Xiao Lutang Fort, and Suoqiao Fort on the Lutang route.

There were also three support fortresses garrisoned with troops, running north to south: Yongtai Garrison Town, Zhenlu Fort, and Baoding Fort.

From its inception, this defense system used the ten defensive fortresses as the front line and the three support fortresses as the rear reserve, with two border walls as barriers, forming an elastic defensive line facing north.

By comparison, the eastern mountains had denser fortifications than the western mountains, and it was easier for the garrison to sally forth into the river valley.

Ding Zizhen cupped his fists and said: "Father, today I saw the enemy reinforce Zhuanglang Guard with another five hundred men. Could it be they intend to fight a decisive battle with us in the river valley?"

"Vanishingly unlikely. I, for one, would welcome a decisive battle in the river valley."

Ding Shaoyin thought this way not because a decisive battle in the river valley would benefit him; he simply wished the war to stay far from his homeland. "A pity that Military Governor Hong has outmaneuvered them. For the Marshal's Headquarters, whether crossing the mountains or entering the valley, any move against Gansu now is a mediocre play. The loss of Lanzhou, though — that is a true pity."

That said, Ding Shaoyin still shook his head. "For now, we must lure the enemy out as quickly as possible. Whether Tatars or tribesmen, we are a wagon camp. In the river valley, we do not fear them. If this drags on, a man's name casts a tree's shadow — I fear the troops will not be able to bear the strain."

Ding Zizhen asked: "Father fears a camp panic?"

Ding Shaoyin nodded slowly, rose, and paced beside the desk, sighing. "The lingering awe of Liu Chengzong shattering the Five-Garrison Allied Army remains. The banner troops are far too tense."

Ding Zizhen thought for a moment, then asked with careful deliberation: "Father, your son had a conjecture today. Seven detachments in a row have entered the city, each five hundred strong... Is it possible that the Tatar soldiers inside Zhuanglang Guard City have already fled, that only these Han soldiers remain in the city, and they are putting on an Empty City Ruse?"

Ding Shaoyin countered: "The Tatars fled?"

"Yes. If these thirty-five hundred Han troops had entered as reinforcements, they should not have remained indifferent to over a thousand of our troops moving south. Your son has observed that the Simple Khan's use of troops in the past excelled at overwhelming with sheer momentum. Every time he launched a campaign, he committed his full strength to fight many with few. Why is he so unusually cautious this time? There is very likely trickery within."

Ding Shaoyin pondered briefly. In his heart, he did not quite agree with this view, but he did not dampen his son's initiative.

It was a good thing to be inclined to think. Next year, when his eldest son turned twenty, he planned to retire. Then this post of Assistant Commander would fall to Ding Zizhen. Not daring to think anything at all would be absolutely unacceptable.

However, he immediately followed up with a question: "You mean the city's defending commander is reenacting the tale of Dong Zhuo — reinforcing the city by day and sneaking troops out by night?"

Ding Zizhen nodded emphatically.

"Men can leave easily enough, but you have also seen the wagon ruts. Over these twelve days, the wagons of all seven supply convoys were heavily laden. Those provisions did not leave. Counting grain and fodder alone, the city now holds over ten thousand dan of stored supplies — yet they add no troops to defend it?"

Ding Zizhen shook his head. "That is also what your son cannot fathom. If there are seven thousand troops inside the city, they would never sit idly by and watch us come and go north and south. If there are not that many troops inside, men can slip out easily, but grain cannot follow them out... Even the government troops are short on provisions. Even if he is the Simple Khan, he could not be so extravagantly wasteful."

Had his son not spoken, an old veteran officer like Ding Shaoyin would never have considered this angle. After all, such a thing was far too risky. No normal person would think in this direction; only a gambler would dare such a ploy.

But since Ding Zizhen had brought it up, Ding Shaoyin could not help but ponder it. And once he did, he could no longer sit still.

Over ten thousand dan of grain, fodder, and supplies abandoned in this city, without sufficient troops to guard them — what did that mean?

Ding Shaoyin said: "Since you raised this matter, you will not sleep tonight. Go and keep a death grip on the city's garrison. If men truly do slip out, we will seize this first merit. A city is always safer than a wagon camp, and besides, it will let the banner troops eat a few good meals."

The advantage of a wagon camp lay in its extreme resistance to collapse once formed. A normal army, when unable to beat the enemy, would run, and once they ran, they collapsed — because running was safer than fighting.

A formed wagon camp, however, was inherently safer than the outside, provided there was no lack of reinforcements. Relatively speaking, a complete wagon camp also gave friendly forces ample time to come to the rescue.

Their water and grain were enough to sustain them away from the supply line for thirty days; if they slaughtered the warhorses, they could hold out another ten.

Of course, few armies ever held on until every last grain was gone before collapsing, but even so, a wagon-fort's normal independent combat endurance was over twenty days.

A full twenty days — that was enough time for reinforcements to race over from Jiayu Pass.

What the Ding father and son never expected, however, was that they would have no time at all to probe the true situation at Zhuanglang Garrison City. Just as father and son were debating whether the city was empty, an urgent report from the rear cut their discussion short.

The messenger was a Ningxia relay soldier, who presented the urgent dispatch: "General Ding, an emergency order from the Supreme Commander."

The moment Ding Shaoyin opened the letter, he shot a glance at Ding Zizhen, who could not help asking, "Father, what is it?"

Ding Shaoyin closed the letter with a long sigh and turned away. "You called it. The Supreme Commander orders us to advance at speed and seize Zhuanglang Garrison — the Marshal's headquarters."

Ding Zizhen took the letter and read that on the night before last, the garrison at Songshan Fort had sent an urgent report that six to seven thousand barbarian soldiers had launched a fierce assault on the fort; the fort had been on guard and the attack failed.

But that same night, Garrison Commander Ma Peiliang of Zhenlu Fort, who had seen the beacon fires, led four hundred men to the rescue. They were ambushed before they could form ranks and were struck head-on by barbarian cavalry. The Garrison Commander fell in the ambush, and Zhenlu Fort was lost that very night.

Although Ding Zizhen had already guessed at the number of defenders in Zhuanglang Garrison City, seeing his conjecture confirmed by the battle report still made his eyes widen in shock. He swallowed and said, "With Zhenlu Fort and Lanzhou both fallen, I fear Baoding Fort cannot hold either."

With this urgent dispatch, the Liangzhou army immediately struck camp, pushed their carts and hauled their cannon, and marched on Zhuanglang Garrison.

At the same time.

Squad Leader Jing Xiaoliu stood atop the walls of Zhuanglang Garrison City, stretched as he watched the rising morning sun, and barked orders at his men: "Shift change! Move the Rice Brothers around."

The He-Huang local soldiers, who had just finished unloading grain, immediately obeyed the order and mounted the wall. Each man pulled a rope and began walking along the rampart.

Behind every man trailed a long wooden plank, and on each plank stood five straw men dressed in banner-army surcoats and topped with red-lacquered 'Bravery'-inscribed helmets.

Ever since Xie Erhu, accompanying Ahei Daiqing, had led the Yongxiebu and Khalkha Mongol troops on a covert crossing of the Song Mountains twelve days earlier, Squad Leader Jing Xiaoliu had been guarding the city with his Rice Brothers, his heart in his throat every single day.

Liu Chengzong did not fear the Gansu Army — the Gansu officers feared Liu Chengzong — but for Jing Xiaoliu, a mere squad leader of He-Huang local soldiers, he was genuinely terrified of the real Gansu border army.

In the forty-seventh year of Wanli, the previous He-Huang Tusi Qi Bingzhong had served as Gansu Regional Commander. Xiong Tingbi, citing his reputation as a Gansu stalwart and the bravery of the troops under his command, had petitioned for the Gansu army to reinforce Liaodong.

Six thousand border troops followed the Regional Commander from Gansu to Liaodong. At the Battle of Guangning, because Sun Degong colluded with the enemy, the Gansu army, positioned in the rear, was exposed at the front, and they were annihilated to the last man.

Of those six thousand Gansu soldiers, not a single one ever returned home.

By the Jisi Incident in the second year of Chongzhen, the sons of those Gansu men who had died in Liaodong marched a hundred li a day with Mei Zhihuan to relieve the capital. They slept outdoors rather than enter commoners' homes and did not have a copper to their names. They marched a full six hundred li before they mutinied — and even after the mutiny, a great many still rushed to the capital to serve the Emperor.

And during these twelve days, Jing Xiaoliu had led his six hundred local soldiers to haul grain from Red City, sixty li away, to Zhuanglang Garrison. They marched one day, and the next day his men had to rest a full day — and that was with full bellies and plenty to drink.

If the six hundred local soldiers under his command possessed even half the loyalty, courage, and endurance of the Gansu border army toward the court, he would dare take six hundred against three thousand.

Fortunately, Jing Xiaoliu had no idea what the Gansu army was afraid of — it seemed they had been intimidated by his Empty Fort Stratagem.

But as the low, drawn-out wail of horns rose from the battlements and a dark mass at the very edge of sight pressed toward the city gate, Jing Xiaoliu knew his easy days were over.

In that moment, he himself could not say whether he felt joy or sorrow. Joy, because the enemy's attack meant Xie Erhu's tactic had succeeded.

Sorrow, because of the supplies inside the city — this time, he could not abandon the city and flee.

Jing Xiaoliu's face was calm. He turned his head and swept his gaze over the distant danxia landscape, like an ink-wash painting, and finally let his eyes rest on the rising sun. He should have been a dead man long ago, back in Jing Family Gully the year government troops looted it clean.

Nervous local soldiers dashed past him; beacon fires shot into the sky behind him one after another. He unhurriedly fished a handful of roasted flour from his waist, pinched up a strip of dried meat, chewed briefly, and washed it down with water. Only then did he grip the hilt at his waist, turn around, and raise two fingers to the centurions who had come for orders.

"Two days. We have already taken a Song Mountain fortress for the Grand Marshal. When the battle is won, promotion and reward are certain. I ask you all to hold the city with me for two more days. If, after twenty-four double-hours, no reinforcements arrive, you may take my head and offer it in surrender to save your lives. Until then, keep calm and carry on."

Jing Xiaoliu looked at the five centurions. "Let's have a go at them!"

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Good evening!