Chapter 594: Today's Battle Ends Today

Yang Zhengfang had no intention of surrendering when he first received Zhang Tianlin's call to lay down arms.

His army hadn't taken heavy losses — seven thousand men to begin with, and after fighting all afternoon he still had over six thousand.

Though he knew full well he could never win on this battlefield, surrendering just like that felt far too humiliating.

Even if he abandoned the equipment and bolted for the river in one mad dash — those who could cross by the pontoon bridge would take the bridge, those who couldn't would swim the Wei River — he could at least bring five thousand men back.

His soldiers, after all, had grown up among the Five Streams; every last one of them could swim.

A more important reason was that Zhang Tianlin's words were hard to stomach.

The gist of his message was: you suck so bad it's laughable — figure it out yourself. Seven thousand men getting hammered by my five thousand, and now our army is twenty thousand strong. The moment we get serious we'll knock your teeth out in a flash. The Grand Marshal thinks highly of you, so are you waiting to surrender or waiting to get reincarnated?

Never mind everything else — the moment Yang Zhengfang read that letter, he wanted to ride out alone and challenge Zhang Tianlin to single combat.

He thought to himself: if my cavalry hadn't been such idiots and lost our flank cover, how could my seven thousand mountain warriors possibly have been pinned down by your five thousand horsemen?

On the spot, a reply letter declaring he would fight the twenty-thousand-strong Marshal Army to the death was delivered into Zhang Tianlin's hands.

To Liu the Lion, however, this reply came as no surprise.

Liu the Lion knew Zhang Tianlin's character inside out — his contempt for defeated foes — and the very reason he had Zhang Tianlin deliver the surrender demand was precisely to exploit that trait.

People need comparisons, after all.

Without Zhang Xianzhong's two-hundred-and-fifty brand of foolishness, how would Commander Liu's care for his subordinates shine through?

Without Zhang Tianlin's arrogance, how would the Grand Marshal's courtesy toward the worthy stand out?

Moments later, a Marshal's Residence courier with a small banner strapped to his back galloped into Yang Zhengfang's battle formation, bearing Liu Chengzong's personally penned surrender letter.

Yang Zhengfang had already ordered his troops to prepare for a fight to the death. Officers at every level of the Zhen'gan Corps were rallying morale, trying to reignite their weary soldiers' fighting spirit.

They told every soldier that there was still one shichen until sunset. If they could hold out until then, even if it meant leaving their equipment behind, they could swim the river under cover of darkness.

But before that, they must not flee in disorder. The enemy had too many cavalry; the moment their formation scattered, the enemy horsemen would chase them down and slaughter them all the way to the water's edge.

All being fellow countrymen from the same region, the soldiers already placed extraordinary trust in Yang Zhengfang. Now, knowing they were in dire straits, every man swore he would not break formation before nightfall.

So when this second surrender letter arrived, Yang Zhengfang tossed it to the ground without even glancing at it, and was about to stomp on it for good measure to demonstrate his absolute refusal to surrender.

Fortunately, the courier was a quick-witted and bold man with a silver tongue. Unafraid even in the heart of the enemy camp, he bent down, picked up the letter, and expressionlessly presented it with both hands again, saying, "General, it is written in the Grand Marshal's own hand. You would do well to read it."

Hearing it was the Grand Marshal's own hand, Yang Zhengfang froze.

Meeting the courier's steady gaze, Yang Zhengfang finally took the letter and said, "Since the Marshal wrote it himself, I shall read it."

But the very first glance at the letter made Yang Zhengfang's pupils suddenly dilate.

On the envelope: To be opened personally by Elder Brother.

"Today we fought upon the plateau. My troops were many, yours were few. General Zu Kuan fell in battle, his body bearing seven wounds. General Lei Shisheng was routed and fled to Henan. Only Elder Brother's Zhen'gan Army held formation and fought north of the river — disciplined, astute, loyal to the utmost. Your younger brother is filled with admiration."

"At this juncture, the blame for defeat does not lie with Elder Brother. The Wei River still bars your way home. Heaven's timing and the terrain's advantage both rest in my hands. Better to accept reorganization under my command. The Marshal's Residence is prepared to offer two posts as Mobile Corps Commander and a four-thousand-man battalion establishment, awaiting your decision. I wonder what Elder Brother and all the brothers in your camp think of this."

"If you are willing to accept my command and coordination, to shake hands, make peace, and become one family, to join hands in pursuing great endeavors — then the lightly wounded shall be treated, the troops shall eat their fill of army grain, and the two newly attached battalions shall receive four thousand taels of silver in pay. Furthermore, two thousand soldiers who insist on returning home may relinquish their arms and each receive five mace of silver as travel expenses."

"Written in haste amidst the battle lines; paper and ink are limited, and I cannot say all I wish. I earnestly hope Elder Brother will weigh the lives of your officers and men and consider this carefully. Our army shall remain encamped here for three ke, quietly awaiting your reply. — Younger Brother, Liu Chengzong."

Yang Zhengfang was utterly dumbfounded.

What the hell kind of man is this!

You're demanding surrender — shouldn't you be spouting some platitudes about the mandate of heaven and the tide of the times? Instead, you come right out with treating the lightly wounded and feeding the troops their fill. Paying surrendered soldiers is one thing, but you're even giving travel money to the ones who won't surrender?

Am I some beggar?

He'd even set the quotas for those surrendering and those not — exactly four thousand to be taken in, and the other two thousand to go home obediently. What was that supposed to mean?

Yang Zhengfang was not old — just thirty this year. He had spent years fighting on the front lines against rebel armies, roving bandits, and peasant forces, and had seen plenty of warlords demanding surrender.

Yet even when he himself had demanded others surrender, his reply letters had never been as courteous as Liu Chengzong's.

With extreme control over his facial expression, Yang Zhengfang forced the corners of his mouth downward and expressionlessly handed the letter to his subordinate officer Zhang Shangxuan. Under his officer's puzzled gaze, he said not a single word.

Zhang Shangxuan took one look at the letter and laughed. "General, he calls you Elder Brother!"

He was Yang Zhengfang's longtime subordinate. The two had grown up together in the guard station since childhood, and their fathers had died together in the Bozhou campaign. For ten years they had gone to the battlefield side by side like shadows — as close as brothers, bound by the deepest camaraderie of war.

Yang Zhengfang said sternly, "It's nothing but a ploy to win hearts."

He said it, but his expression control ultimately cracked; the corners of his mouth curled up beyond his will.

Who doesn't like being praised!

Only after the smile faded did Yang Zhengfang ask in a low, somber tone, "What do you think we should do?"

Zhang Shangxuan and Yang Zhengfang exchanged a glance, and both shook their heads almost imperceptibly.

Surrendering was no simple matter. Even in desperate straits, sometimes being captured was easier than dying, and dying was easier than surrendering.

It wasn't about the Marshal's Residence's legitimacy to rule. For military men like them, to a large extent, having strong soldiers and sturdy horses was legitimacy in itself.

Liu Chengzong had led his army on a rampage across the Guanzhong Plain, sweeping through two camps in a single day, smashing an army of over ten thousand into utter rout, and tearing apart the great net that had closed in from all sides.

If they were a Guanzhong army, they could surrender with virtually no psychological burden.

But they were a guest army from Huguang. Their families and clans were all in Huguang — not territory under Liu Chengzong's rule, and for the foreseeable six months, a year, even two years, it was unlikely to become the Marshal's Residence's domain.

For the common soldiers, this was easy enough — the Ming court didn't care whether some foot soldier surrendered or not. But for a major general like Yang Zhengfang, if he surrendered here, his entire clan would be disgraced and ruined.

Yet if he didn't surrender... Yang Zhengfang was no fool.

No matter how warm Liu Chengzong's letter sounded, it wouldn't make anyone forget what kind of man he truly was.

A warlord of chaotic times who had carved out half an empire with his blade, who had campaigned east and west leaving devastation in his wake, before whom even the most arrogant and untamed men bowed their heads and called themselves subjects — he was no benevolent soul.

Him calling you "Elder Brother" — hear it, enjoy it for a laugh, and leave it at that. Anyone who took it seriously was a colossal idiot.

Liu Chengzong's letter said he was writing in the midst of the battle lines, that paper and ink were limited, and that he hadn't finished saying all he wished to say.

Yang Zhengfang knew exactly what he hadn't finished saying. There was still one shichen until nightfall. The Marshal's Army encamping for three ke — that was his ultimatum.

Clearly, Liu Chengzong had full confidence that today's battle would end today. If he didn't surrender, the remaining five ke would be used to annihilate his remaining six thousand men.

Soon, barely one ke after the letter had been sent, the courier galloped back into the central army with the reply.

Liu Chengzong unfolded the letter, frowned slightly, narrowed his eyes in brief thought, then broke into a grin and laughed: "This isn't bad at all!"

Immediately, another reply was sent into the Zhengan Army formation.

Yang Zhengfang's reply was to negotiate terms. The terms were that he would not surrender, but would have his deputy commander Zhang Shangxuan lead the troops in surrender, hoping Liu Chengzong could understand his predicament.

Lion Liu understood. He understood perfectly.

He could guess the reason Yang Zhengfang and Zhang Shangxuan made this decision — it was simply that Yang Zhengfang could go back and bear the blame for the defeated army, preventing the court from venting its anger on the surrendered officers' families. Even if there were punishments, he could still protect Zhang Shangxuan's family.

Conversely, if Yang Zhengfang surrendered and Zhang Shangxuan went back, he could not protect them.

This outcome was not the best for Liu Chengzong, but it was acceptable.

He had seen it clearly from the earthen mound — he had never intended to keep all six thousand of these men.

The reason he had set a quota of four thousand soldiers and let two thousand return home was precisely because Yang Zhengfang's army was not entirely elite troops, nor could all of them be fully armored.

And in this battle, of the Ming army's four battalions, only the Liaodong Battalion carried a small amount of plundered valuables. Everyone else had come with nothing but their bare arses, carrying only a few days' rations with the army.

Then without a doubt, at the campaign level, according to Lion Liu's economic theory, this battle was a bloody loss.

If he kept everyone, feeding them his own grain, paying them his own wages, and in the end having to re-arm them with weapons and equipment — that would be an even greater loss.

But sending a batch of people back was different. Once these men returned to Huguang, they would spread word of Grand Marshal Liu's grace in granting travel expenses, wearing down the fighting will of other Huguang armies.

As for Yang Zhengfang, Lion Liu also felt that letting him go back was no bad thing. Who knew, perhaps in the future some goodwill might remain between them.

How could anyone become fat in a single mouthful?

Soon, with the military order given, the Zhengan Army in the center of the battlefield shed their armor with a great clatter. Men laid their armor and weapons in the open ground, and the soldiers split into two formations — those willing to surrender on the left, those returning home on the right.

With a wave of Lion Liu's hand, Tiger Guard soldiers set up desks and tables. On one side they registered the surrendered soldiers into the military rolls, and on the other they distributed travel expenses to the soldiers returning home.

No one could imagine how delighted Lion Liu was inside. The Tiger Guard Battalion set up the central army tent, preparing to receive the Huguang officers.

He turned to Zhang Tianlin and said with a smile, "Stop scowling. They faced off against the cavalry battalion's fine horsemen on the battlefield for two hours without breaking — what stalwart men. Now a thousand taels of silver makes them shed their armor and return to the fields. Is that not a blessing?"

Zhang Tianlin was still brooding at this moment over not being able to blast Yang Zhengfang with rockets. He watched from afar as the Huguang officers, having shed their armor, walked over, and he glared at Yang Zhengfang, who was leading his horse at the very front, with undisguised hostility.

He thought to himself: Damn it. When I urged you to surrender, fine, you didn't. When the Grand Marshal himself urged you to surrender, you still didn't? You don't know when you're being given face. Why didn't I fire the rockets earlier and blow you to bits!

Hearing Liu Chengzong's words, Zhang Tianlin finally nodded, though still somewhat unconvinced, and said, "The Grand Marshal is right. They are quite good at close combat."

Gao Yingdeng on the other side was different. He clearly agreed strongly with the latter half of Liu Chengzong's words and nodded repeatedly, saying, "Indeed, Grand Marshal. Zu Kuan went to all that trouble looting for ages, and in the end the Grand Marshal used it to pay the surrendered troops. Haha!"

Who brings money to a war? The silver Liu Chengzong used to pay the surrendered troops was all picked up coin by coin from the ground by Gao Yingdeng.

Zu Kuan's thousand-odd cavalry might not have been good for much else, but when it came to dropping gold coins, they were number one under heaven!

This very matter made Lion Liu's eyes burn hot with envy for the survivors of Zu Dale's thousand-odd cavalry on the southern bank of the Wei River. If it weren't almost dark, he would have crossed the river right then to kick Zu Dale.

The truth was, if he delayed any longer, he wouldn't make it back north in time to eat horse-meat flatbread. Even though time was tight and the task heavy, he still had Wei Qian'er command the main camp to station on the northern bank of the Wei River, keeping watch from this side on Zu Dale, who was gathering his routed troops on the southern bank.

The task he gave Wei Qian'er was to have the pontoon bridge set up tonight, and tomorrow morning find a chance to give Zu Dale a kick, to see if any more gold coins might drop.

Those men of Zu Dale's had been scared off in the first place. Lei Shisheng's army on the northern bank had over a thousand men forced to surrender by Zhao Zhirui, and many more had fled to the southern bank and been gathered up by Zu Dale.

Lion Liu estimated that after the Marshal's Manor's great victory on the northern bank, that newly formed routed-troop battalion was likely already panicking at the mere rustle of the wind, lacking the ability to regroup and fight again in the short term. One charge by Wei Qian'er across the river should be enough to drive them off and scatter them.

If they weren't scattered, that was fine too — just scare them a bit.

As long as he didn't let him take in the Zhengan soldiers the Marshal's Manor had deliberately let go.

In any case, Liu Chengzong had no intention of recruiting too many men and horses. He couldn't afford to feed them.

Having gained the experience and lessons of commanding and maneuvering against the Ming army in this battle, Liu Chengzong had no wish for his own Marshal's Manor to end up in that same sorry state.

The economy is the foundation of warfare. The Ming army had fallen to such straits precisely because it had too many troops while the economy plummeted off a cliff, causing problems in the original command structure.

Originally, there was a complete command system of Commander-in-Chief, Vice Commander, Staff Officer, and Mobile Corps Commander, with each battalion's combat troops as mobile strike forces and several Guard banner armies on the perimeter to encircle and intercept, forming a complete ring of encirclement to annihilate the enemy.

But now, with troop pay and provisions insufficient and grain supplies failing to arrive, the Guard posts, drained of fresh blood over decades of war, had reached a point where going to war meant a Commander-in-Chief, a Staff Officer, and a Mobile Corps Commander each leading a thousand men to form a single combat battalion.

Several Commanders-in-Chief thrown together, forming a joint operation of several battalions — wasn't that a bloody joke? On the battlefield, who listens to whom?

So this only further steeled Liu Chengzong's resolve. The Marshal's Manor wanted only high-quality talent. As for fellows who fought as if sleepwalking, he wouldn't take them even if they were offered for free.

Yang Zhengfang, however, showed no stage fright. He led a group of officers to the main camp, and seeing Liu Chengzong before the tent from afar, he knelt and performed a formal salute.

Liu Chengzong raised his hand for the Feathered Forest Cavalry to step forward and help him up. With a trace of regret, he smiled and said, "It is a pity that the General insists on returning home and cannot join me in pursuing great endeavors. From now on, the mountains will be high and the rivers long — I wonder if fate will allow us to meet again."

"I have temporarily prepared a hundred bows and crossbows and a hundred long spears for the General to defend against wild beasts on the road, along with a hundred taels of silver for travel expenses, and a cup of modest wine to ease your fatigue."

Lion Liu, all smiles, had a tray presented. He personally poured a cup of wine, then had the Feathered Forest Cavalry pass it to Yang Zhengfang.

It wasn't that he hoped Yang Zhengfang would be overwhelmed by the favor and suddenly change his mind about leaving. Rather, he wanted to put on a display for the newly surrendered Zhang Shangxuan and the officers of the Zhengan Army at every level: Look how well I, Lion Liu, treat a man who won't serve me — how much better will I treat you?

Yang Zhengfang was indeed overwhelmed by the favor. He could not even understand why Liu Chengzong regarded him so highly. His eyes went wide, and he could not speak.

Lion Liu was very satisfied with his expression, thinking to himself: You people are the keys for my old Shaanxi boys to march into Huguang in the future!

Never mind a hundred taels — he could afford even ten thousand!

Yang Zhengfang drank the wine and, with heartfelt sincerity, said apologetically, "On the battlefield, the Grand Marshal still found fine wine to entertain this defeated general. I, your humble officer, thank the Grand Marshal for his great kindness!"

"No trouble at all."

Lion Liu waved his hand, his face full of self-satisfaction. "Zu Kuan looted it. Borrowing flowers to offer to the Buddha."

With that, he spread his arms and said, "Then let us part here. General, take your time on the road. May we meet again if fate allows!"

Yang Zhengfang nodded repeatedly, then looked at Zhang Shangxuan, from whom he was now parting. He clasped his fists in salute once more and walked south, where the Zhengan soldiers who had already been given travel expenses were gathered in large groups, waiting for him.

Only he himself knew just how heavy those departing footsteps were.

In any case, Liu Chengzong watched his receding figure, looked around the battlefield where corpses had been collected but the bloodstains had yet to fully dry, took a deep breath, and revealed a look of contented, swelling ambition.

He turned around and said to the commanders, "Send word to every battalion: the entire army is to break camp and march north!"