Chapter 527: Obeying Heaven, Saving the People

South of Gulang Gorge, past Wushaoling Ridge, no more strategic passes barred the way.

Liu Chengzong left Feng Rang's battalion and its wagon fort to garrison the mountains north of Gulang Post, and Zhang Tianlin's main camp to hold Gulang Gorge. He personally led the Tiger Guard Camp, the three Gansu-Liang camps, and Wei Qian'er's main camp — over fifteen thousand troops in all — in a mighty column pouring into the Zhuanglang River valley.

According to the surrendered soldiers, the Ming army still had over a thousand troops left at Zhuanglang Garrison. Liu Chengzong had planned to assign the newly formed half Liangzhou Camp as the main assault force, with the two Gansu camps providing outer cordon support, to fight this final battle before advancing into Gansu.

Before he had even left Gulang Gorge, Wei Qian'er's vanguard had already galloped to Wusheng Courier Station, less than forty li from Zhuanglang Garrison.

Since Wei Qian'er's force had been formed into a main camp, it had yet to earn any notable merit. They were charging ahead at full speed to seize the first achievement at Zhuanglang — but he was destined for disappointment. The troops currently stationed at Zhuanglang Garrison were not Ming soldiers, but rebel soldiers.

After Liu Chengzong entered Qinghai, Zhuanglang Garrison had suffered repeated warfare. The Marshal's Mansion and the Ming army seesawed back and forth in the Zhuanglang River valley, fighting openly and scheming covertly, causing this garrison city to change hands many times. Most of the common people had also fled.

However, because of Hong Chengchou's scorched-earth policy, quite a few Liangzhou civilians had been relocated into the river valley. Earlier, the defending force here was Liancheng Tusi Lu Yunchang, dispatched from Gulang Gorge — another unlucky figure who bore a deep blood feud with Liu the Lion.

Their enmity had been building since the great He-Huang campaign. At that time, to prevent the Gansu Garrison border troops from moving south, Liu Chengzong had sent his elder brother Liu Chengzu and the detached force under Li Wanqing to seize the Datong River and occupy Tusi Lu's homeland.

Afterwards, Lu Yunchang withdrew into Zhuanglang Garrison. His homeland was gone, but fortunately the various tribes of Maya Mountain still obeyed his orders, and he remained the great tusi ruling the Zhuanglang River valley.

Then, as the Gansu campaign unfolded, the war-making potential of the Maya Mountain tribes was drained dry, and Lu Yunchang could no longer squeeze any troops out of this land.

Even the one thousand soldiers he led when he withdrew from Gulang Gorge to defend the Zhuanglang River included many of Yang Jiamo's elite guards.

It happened that the Gulang Gorge defense line had just been breached. Bai Guang'en's routed troops, scattered by Zhang Tianlin, fled into the river valley. News of the front-line defeat spread throughout the Zhuanglang River, and the morale of the thousand soldiers holding Zhuanglang Garrison city wavered accordingly.

Many of the soldiers under Lu Yunchang were Gansu elite guards. Elite guards were usually the finest soldiers, but even the best troops, without proper management, resettlement, and pensions, would be ruined after a few lost battles.

Because the wounded had nowhere to get treatment, the dead received no pensions, and every retreat only took them farther from home — under such conditions, after losing several battles in a row with no hope of victory in sight, they were no longer an army, but merely a thousand soldiers who possessed weapons.

A thousand men, a thousand different minds.

Lu Yunchang was helpless with this army. He had nothing to offer to encourage the soldiers. Only the terrain of the Zhuanglang River valley could delay Liu Chengzong as much as possible, plus a little resignation to fate.

But in this era, resigning oneself to fate usually brought no good result.

On the fourth day of the seventh month, Lu Yunchang had just learned from routed soldiers of Bai Guang'en's defeat, and army morale was shaken. By noon of the fifth day of the seventh month, more bad news came from Fox Fort to the south — a rebel force of over six thousand was advancing north.

One hundred and ten li from Zhuanglang Garrison city.

Receiving this news, Lu Yunchang was not greatly shocked. He-Huang was the Marshal's Mansion's heartland, and he had long anticipated that sooner or later rebels would strike from that direction. Still, the immense pressure of a simultaneous pincer advance from north and south nearly crushed this army.

Over the next six shichen, soldiers of various ranks forced their way into the Zhuanglang Garrison yamen three times, each time voicing their own opinions on the next move.

Some wanted Lu Yunchang to lead them in withdrawing to Maya Mountain, where a thousand gullies and ten thousand ravines could hide them. Others wanted him to lead them in retreating to Songshan New City. Still others wanted to pull back to Qinwangchuan, one hundred and forty li to the southeast.

In short, these men were unwilling — and unanimously believed — that Zhuanglang Garrison city could not be held.

Lu Yunchang also agreed the city could not be held... If the soldiers all thought so, then of course the city could not be held. But even if they were to retreat, he could not directly order the army to retreat just yet.

When morale is high, a commander can do whatever he wants — lead the troops out on a thirty-li run and back every day, no problem. But when tension has been prolonged and morale has plummeted to its lowest, forget taking them out for a stroll — even letting the army sleep one night in a camp outside the city walls could trigger a night panic.

Lu Yunchang estimated he had two days left. In those two days, he would first have to send men to open the road to Songshan New City, setting up relay stations along the way to receive and guide the troops. At the same time, he would arrange a rearguard to urge them on — pulling from the front and pushing from the rear — only then could he bring this army intact to Songshan.

As for bringing them to Ningxia... Lu Yunchang did not have that much confidence.

But before he could even make a decision, a mere six shichen later, the tribal soldier sentries on the southern gate tower came scrambling back into the city, pissing their pants in terror, and stammered out their report to the wall: "S-south... the rebels from the south, they're here!"

"Here? Impossible!"

Night had fallen. The startled Lu Yunchang, wearing only a single layer, sprinted with his household retainers all the way up onto the southern gate tower. His face instantly turned ashen.

South of Zhuanglang Garrison city, from the river valley to the hills, scattered sparks of fire first drew rapidly near the distant watchtowers. Soon one could make them out — riders of a cavalry force holding torches high, spreading out across the river valley like scattered stars.

And farther away in the river valley, the sky was lit bright as day by towering flames. A column of troops marching six abreast held torches aloft. At the front, they galloped with heads down; at the rear, they spaced themselves ten paces apart to light the way, forming six broad lines of advance.

Six thousand-man squads spread out in a vast, silent formation, striding forward with great, swift steps.

Their approach threw the unprepared Zhuanglang Garrison city into turmoil. Amid the immense chaos, Lu Yunchang raised his telescope and saw, at the brightest-lit spot before the enemy formation, two banners — an army banner and a command banner — with green fields and yellow borders. Their style and system were different from both the Ming army and the Marshal's army.

The army banner bore the two characters "Western Camp," and the command banner read "Eight Great Kings."

Beneath that command banner, Lu Yunchang saw a Guan Yu.

This man wore an iron wrapped-head helm and shimmering gold fish-scale armor, draped with a green shoulder-baring battle robe. He too was raising a telescope to look toward Zhuanglang city.

Apart from the insufficient length of his beard, there was even a man beside him holding his guandao for him.

The cloth-faced armor uniformly worn by this army, supplied by the north, was also uniformly green.

The blades were newly forged, the armor newly hammered. On the back of every armor scale was stamped the mark of the Marshal's Mansion Armory Bureau. This extreme Guan Yu cosplay enthusiast was none other than Zhang Xianzhong, who disliked the color green.

Crimson was the color of military dress. Among those who had served in the Great Ming army, there were few who did not love red, and Zhang Xianzhong was no exception. His favorite color was red.

But he had no choice. The only dye this land had left for him was green.

Liu Chengyun in He-Huang could easily have procured crimson dye for him, but the Marshal's Mansion's armies were almost all in red armor, blue armor, or even plain earth-yellow armor. Using such dyes would make his Western Camp seem like just two subordinate camps under the Marshal's Mansion.

Because their inherent similarity was already far too great. Wearing the same armor, using the same equipment, coming from the same place, speaking the same dialect — this would bring chaos to the soldiers' sense of identity.

What is factional strife?

When everyone is a scholar, and all identify as scholars who have mastered the civil and martial arts to sell their skills to the imperial house, they will have one acknowledged leader, and factional strife is unlikely to arise.

Only when someone is dissatisfied with the leader and draws a group of people to his side — dividing them by province, for example, like Qin, Zhe, or Chu — and instills in them a will, a sense that "we are fellow townsmen and should look after each other," forming a new subdivided identity beneath that of "scholar," does factional strife begin.

Zhang Xianzhong clearly did not wish to be assimilated and absorbed by the Marshal's Mansion. But the problem was that they shared too many similarities. They had the same identity, came from the same region — profession and hometown were not enough to form a new identity.

Getting close to Liu Chengzong was dangerous for him.

For this reason, he had no choice but to station himself in the southern section of the Zhuanglang River under the pretext of helping the Marshal's Mansion fight the war, and have his Western Camp troops collect dye locally.

The fortunate thing was that where the southern section of the Zhuanglang River flowed into the Yellow River, from Fox Fort to the river mouth, a vast stretch of land lay at an altitude of around fifteen hundred meters. This environment abounded in a plant used for green dye, called frozen green, also known as buckthorn.

Compared to the effort Lu Yunchang had put into defending Zhuanglang Garrison city, the preparations Zhang Xianzhong had made to attack it were far more thorough.

As early as when Hong Chengchou was carrying out his scorched-earth policy in Liangzhou and relocating Liangzhou civilians to the Zhuanglang River valley, Zhang Xianzhong had his eye on Zhuanglang Garrison city. It was clearly a place more suited for him to rest and rebuild than Hezhou Garrison.

But Zhang Xianzhong also believed that Liu Chengzong would not give this land to him... They were neither kin nor old friends — who would simply hand a city over to someone else for nothing?

Therefore, his opportunity was to strike and take Ming-controlled Zhuanglang Garrison before Liu Chengzong marched south. That way, first, the Ming army was at its weakest at this moment, and second, even if Liu the Lion was unwilling, he would have to hold his nose and let him station troops here for a while.

After all, standing in this position, how Liu Chengzong treated him no longer had anything to do with Zhang Xianzhong himself. He was the bones of a thousand-li horse — the hundred thousand rebels in the Qinling Mountains were all watching how Zhang Xianzhong was treated.

On the walls of Zhuanglang Garrison city, Lu Yunchang was not the only one raising a telescope to look at Zhang Xianzhong. Soon, startled exclamations from the officers beside him drew Lu Yunchang's attention away from the Guan Yu cosplay enthusiast and toward what lay behind him.

Silence often intimidates more than war cries. In the silently advancing Western Camp formation, the night wind stirred the torch flames, illuminating the long ladders that soldiers carried on their shoulders, one after another — they were not coming in peace.

Lu Yunchang did not hesitate. He ordered his left and right: "Quickly assemble the troops! While their camp is not yet set, sally forth and hit them!"

Although this rebel army's banners and uniform colors differed from Liu Chengzong's, Lu Yunchang could see that this army also possessed strong combat capability, because at a single glance he could clearly make out this army's order of battle even as it marched.

This meant the army marched in good order — the vast majority of regular armies had that ability — but the situation facing this Western Camp force on the battlefield was different. Just six shichen ago, they had still been at Wild Fox Fort, a hundred li away.

A mere six shichen later, they had force-marched a hundred li. If they had covered the entire distance on foot, it almost meant they had not stopped moving for a single moment in those six shichen.

And to still maintain tight formation after such a high-intensity rapid march — even empty-handed, an army like that was beyond doubt an elite force.

A sixfold disparity in troop strength. Lu Yunchang was certain: if they were given time to make camp and rest, the coming siege battle would be nearly unwinnable for him. So to seize victory, he had to send his troops out at once and make this army… stop.

Lu Yunchang's experience in marching was also ample. Trained soldiers possessed tremendous endurance on the march, but they could not be allowed to stop. After a long march, stopping to rest and then rousing men to resume marching again would inflict extreme suffering on the army.

At the same time, at this moment they were utterly exhausted and their will to fight was very low. If the objective was merely to force the enemy to halt, then in Lu Yunchang's view, this battle had a very high chance of success.

After all, forcing the enemy to halt was simple. Even just two or three hundred men, offering a slight frontal challenge, would be enough to make the army behind them stop… No one wore armor on a hundred-li march; exhausted soldiers suddenly attacked, and at night, were easily thrown into panic.

Unfortunately, the soldiers Lu Yunchang led did not see it that way. They ran.

The moment he led his troops out of the city, the six hundred soldiers split into three groups. One headed east toward Pine Mountain New City, one west toward Horse Tusk Mountain, and only a hundred or so remained at Lu Yunchang's side.

Left with no choice, Lu Yunchang simply returned to the city, issued a withdrawal order to the four hundred men left behind, then turned and departed through the east gate, making all the way for Pine Mountain New City, ringed by peaks.

Zhang Xianzhong took over Zhuanglang Garrison City without the slightest trouble. By the time Wei Qian'er, under Liu Chengzong's command, led his troops to the outskirts of Zhuanglang Garrison, the city's walls were already covered with the green banners of the Western Camp.

Wei Qian'er received a report from the forward reconnaissance soldiers. Hearing that green Western Camp banners were planted on the walls of Zhuanglang Garrison City, he puzzledly searched his mind. First he thought of Marshal's Headquarters men like Luo Rucai and Li Wanqing, but figured it wasn't them. Then he considered the rebel armies that had shifted over from the Central Plains, but those would mostly be Chuang Camp.

After much deliberation, Wei Qian'er could not figure out who had come, so he slowed the army's pace. Thirty li out, the main camp force began conscripting commoners, on one hand asking about this Western Camp force's conduct, and on the other, stockpiling supplies and making preparations for a siege.

The great camp Liu Chengzong had established in Gansu — its actual combat personnel were in fact about the same as other standard camps. The biggest reform was the addition of many auxiliary personnel who did not fight on the front line, the aim being to strengthen a commander's ability to operate independently.

In a situation like this, for instance, Wei Qian'er did not need to deploy three chiliarch divisions. Relying solely on the battalion commander of the central corps, he could get the matter clearly investigated and also submit an extremely well-presented report.

Very soon, that report was delivered into the hands of Liu Chengzong, who had just emerged from Gulang Gorge. In the report, Wei Qian'er stated that the Western Camp currently occupying Zhuanglang Garrison City was a righteous army.

Their banner proclaimed Obey Heaven and Save the People. They had driven out the Ming troops stationed in the Zhuanglang area and exterminated the bandits entrenched in the mountains. For the commoners migrating from Liangzhou, the Western Camp had also carried out very meticulous work according to their respective statuses.

High Ming officials and powerful gentry who carried substantial family wealth were, without exception, tortured and killed by cruel means. Ordinary licentiates and low-ranking officials, on the other hand, were summoned and recruited, and granted reward silver.

And for the common people, Zhang Xianzhong's approach was to register all the fields, pastures, mountain forests, and ponds of Zhuanglang Garrison, distribute them to the people, and promise three years of tax exemption.

Of course, there was one thing that could not be avoided: although the Western Camp soldiers did not kill people, wherever they went, they seized every horse in sight.

To be honest, the moment Liu the Lion saw this report, he grew frantic: You bastard, you've come to my turf to play lord of the manor, is that it? No wonder no one else wants to hang around with you!

Good evening!