Chapter 604: Provocation

A cannon shot boomed below Baoji city.

The deathly still Fengxiang Plateau came alive.

Baoji had three thousand defenders, while thirty thousand Ming troops lay outside the walls — a staggering disparity in strength, yet a stalemate had formed, deliberately maintained by commanders Liu Chengzong, Zuo Liangyu, Cao Wenzhao, and Luo Rucai.

Before this, Liu the Lion had seen no opening.

In any campaign, both sides choose the right moment to strike, seeking greater battlefield advantage.

On this point, Liu the Lion knew full well that although his main force had returned swiftly, they had reached the field later and with fewer troops, so they inevitably remained at a disadvantage.

The Ming army had arrived earlier, built their ramparts, laid their defense lines — they were no longer in a state to be shattered by a single blow.

On the contrary, the Ming forces, having seized the initiative, should have attacked him the moment they spotted him — should have massed their superior strength to wipe out Luo Rucai, Wang Wenxiu, and the rest even before sighting the Marshal's main army.

The situation on Fengxiang Plateau was clearly nothing like that.

In war, the side that strikes first cannot be crudely labeled as holding the advantage or disadvantage, but one rule is always ironclad.

The side that strikes first invariably believes: now is the best moment, and waiting longer will bring no better moment.

So before Liu the Lion returned with relief forces, Cao Wenzhao, Zuo Liangyu, and the others not hitting Luo Rucai — Liu the Lion could not understand it.

When he first reached Fengxiang Plateau, before his camp was even secured, Cao, Zuo, and the rest again did not pounce on him — he understood it even less.

But Liu Chengzong had fought wars for so many years, clashed with Ming armies so many times, he had grown used to Ming troops doing things he could not understand.

Liu Chengzong, with only his two fists, had long accepted that the great Ming army corps possessed three heads and six arms — even if the three heads bit each other, it would not surprise him.

So it didn't matter!

Whatever medicine the Ming army was selling in its gourd, he could counter it with his wealth of Ming-specific experience: respond to all changes by remaining unchanged.

From the moment he ascended Fengxiang Plateau, he had seen it — this joint-operation Ming army corps had its positions laid out in perfect order, beyond doubt as impregnable as a fortress of gold.

Liu the Lion knew the Ming army the way he knew his own pubic hair — he didn't know the count, but he knew the general length very well.

He knew not only the Ming army's weaknesses, but also its strengths.

Extremely high armor rates, ferocious mobility, terrifying firepower, fierce fighting spirit, and tenacious resilience.

At the same time, poorly maintained weapons, short rations, nonexistent logistics, supply as arduous as campaigning in foreign territory, and coordination conducted through dream-delivered commands.

The Ming army was a lean tiger, a starving wolf — a sharp blade that could kill.

They could not afford hesitation; the moment they spotted the enemy, they should pounce and tear them to shreds.

It should not be impregnable as a fortress of gold, just as no one would describe a fine blade as sturdy.

What is sturdy is scrap iron.

And against a hesitating lean tiger and starving wolf, one need do nothing — just wait, and it will starve itself into weakness.

Without question, against such a fortress-of-gold army, Liu Chengzong's plan was not to assault head-on, but to ignore them.

Leave them sitting for a day or two, and they would develop problems on their own.

Unless they had grain.

Sure enough, Zuo Liangyu had opened fire!

The instant Liu Chengzong heard the cannon, he burst from his tent, muttering as he went: "So you're short on grain! I thought you weren't!"

From the start of the siege, he and Luo Rucai had exchanged no letters.

Nearly twenty thousand Ming troops had Baoji encircled watertight, with the four Ningxia border brigades prowling the periphery — even the most valiant rider of the Marshal's Manor could not break through the layered cordon to deliver a letter into the city.

So Liu the Lion knew nothing of Luo Rucai's mad taunting from atop the city walls.

In truth, even if someone had slipped through the siege camp and brought him this news, he would have found it hard to believe that Luo Rucai, ringed by thirty thousand Ming troops, was going berserk.

But that did not change the fact that, in Liu Chengzong's eyes, the Ming army's attack was a matter of course.

All it took was a few mighty Ming Regional Commanders gathering together — time, place, attack — they could always get at least one of them wrong.

As for the present case, Liu Chengzong couldn't quite say — this probably fell under... wrong time, right place, launching the right attack.

Of course, before this, Liu the Lion had not believed the Ming army would suddenly assault Baoji.

It was like rain falling today — certainly possible, but the odds were so slim as to be nearly nonexistent.

After all, the Ming army had already suffered two straight defeats on the eastern route — would the western-route commanders still mass their forces to fight a pitched battle with him?

The probability was far too low.

Liu the Lion guessed that they had gathered here perhaps with a plan for a pitched battle when they set out, but upon reaching the field, found the plan had changed — his twenty thousand crack troops arriving in unison had left them riding a tiger they could not dismount.

But in truth, attacking him now was the Ming army's best opportunity.

Liu Chengzong knew his own situation: the army under Zhang Xianzhong besieging Qianzhou was still on the road.

On the surface, with his arrival, the Marshal's Manor had thirty thousand troops in Fengxiang Prefecture, but Luo Rucai was trapped inside Baoji, Wang Wenxiu had to guard the military grain at Fengxiang's administrative seat, and Yang Chengzu had to hold Qianyang city in the north.

His twenty thousand main-force troops descending like gods from heaven could overawe the Ming army, but in reality, these twenty thousand elite soldiers were all he could actually move.

If the Ming army truly was overawed, stood off against him for a few days, and then found an opening for each battalion to withdraw from Fengxiang Plateau in good order — that, for Liu Chengzong, would be the best opportunity.

Assaulting well-prepared Ming encampments — first, he had no certainty of victory; second, sending Zhang Tianlin and Gao Yingdeng to storm the stockades would cost far too much.

As for the Tiger Guard Battalion charging the stockades... even if Red Flag's hoof kicked him three times in the forehead, Liu the Lion could not give that order.

Even if they won the charge, he would have to go back to Lanzhou and weep for half a month.

For no other reason than this: even if all dozen-plus battalions of the eastern expedition were buried in Guanzhong, it would only mean the shattering of his ambition to seize all of Shaanxi.

As long as those four thousand officers of the Tiger Guard Battalion remained, he could hole up in Lanzhou for one winter, and the Hehuang region would produce another forty thousand troops.

Though it might not be so easy, and all manner of accidents could occur — for instance, those forty thousand troops might be a khan's crack brigade speaking a Mongol dialect, or a tsanpo's guard force speaking a Kham-Tibetan dialect — his hegemonic position as the overlord of the western frontier would still be unshakable.

The road to sending the Chongzhen Emperor up the old crooked-neck tree might be tortuous, but the future was still bright!

It might even shed the pressure of military grain supplies, and the Marshal's Manor's stability might improve — who could say?

But if those four thousand officers of the Tiger Guard Battalion were lost, Liu Chengzong would go back to Lanzhou and, in six months at best, train a juvenile-edition Lion Battalion.

By then, never mind holding off the great Ming celestial troops coming to suppress him — just the title of Daiqing Khitan Khan he bore on his forehead would be enough for Batur Khong Tayiji to dare return for armed plunder, and the three brothers of Huoluochi could also show him what it meant to be lords of the snow lands!

So if the Ming army did not move, Liu Chengzong was unwilling to move either.

He much preferred to use the moment when the Ming army was withdrawing and shifting position to strike troops on the move. Even if he could not win quickly or win big, with the forces he had in hand, making the Ming army leave behind two battalions' worth of heavy firepower equipment would be no problem.

Then, as one side waned and the other waxed, in the pursuit battle that followed it would be easier to turn small victories into a major triumph.

However, for the moment, Zuo Liangyu's sudden attack on Baoji City was not a bad thing for Liu Chengzong either.

Attacking a city meant they had to leave camp; once they left camp, the Marshal's Office army would pull them into a field battle, not a siege assault.

In a field battle, if the Ming army's other battalions reinforced, it would become a general engagement. Wang Wenxiu's three battalions defending the city meant the Ming army would also need at least three battalions to watch them, making the field strength of both sides equal.

If the Ming army did not reinforce, then Liu Chengzong would use twenty thousand troops to strike five or six battalions, giving him a slight numerical edge instead, and an even greater chance to use superior numbers to fight an annihilation battle.

The disadvantage simply vanished like that.

So for Liu Chengzong, why the Ming army moved was not important; what mattered was that they moved. As long as they moved, they were much easier to fight.

The drums and music of the march resounded across every inch of the Fengxiang Plateau. On the plateau, filled everywhere with shouting men and neighing horses, company after company of Marshal's Office soldiers, led by their officers, galloped out of camp and rushed toward the riverbank.

Amid the vast, mighty march, several cavalrymen from the east, their heads wrapped in green headscarves, came flying over under the escort of relay scouts.

They were panting heavily and looked urgent. One glance at those green hats told you they were attendant cavalry of the Minister of Rites.

"Reporting to the Grand Marshal, Minister Zhang has arrived at Jiedao Village, thirty li away. He has sent us ahead to ask: where shall the Lintao and Mongol brigades, as well as the Yan'an and Zhen'gan battalions, attack?"

They're here, the follow-up forces are here!

"The Tiger Guard Battalion, pile up an earthen mound. The rest of you, come with me!"

Liu Chengzong suddenly spurred his horse out of the marching column and moved to a low earthen hillock. He had the Feathered Forest Cavalry clear the ground on the spot and used a blade as a brush to sketch a terrain map. Without raising his head, he said: "Send word: Brigade Commander Zhang Xianzhong and Shi Xiang, speedily lead the Lintao Brigade's three battalions across the Wei River. You must, by..."

Liu the Lion raised his head to glance at the sky and said: "One shichen. Cross the Wei River, and before evening threaten and attack Zuo Liangyu and Ai Wannian's forces at Baoji. If you can raid them tonight, raid them; if a night raid is not possible, then engage them in battle tomorrow."

"If the two brigade commanders differ in their judgment of the attack timing, then defer to Minister of Rites Brother Zhang."

Having said this, Liu Chengzong raised a hand toward the Feathered Forest Cavalryman recording the orders. On that side, a military order had already been written and was handed over to the relay scout.

The young cavalryman of Minister Zhang's unit wearing a green hat on the side was Zhang Xianzhong's adopted son, Zhang Kewang.

He watched the relay cavalry general put the order away, his eyeballs swiveling round and round in their sockets. He unconsciously shrank his neck, his brain already beginning to execute a Chinese-to-Chinese translation of the command.

'On attack timing, defer to Minister of Rites Brother Zhang' was naturally translated into 'On punishment for defeat, the Western Brigade Commander Zhang Xianzhong bears the heaviest responsibility.'

Liu Chengzong, however, paid no mind to any of that. His consciousness had already left this stretch of barren red earth and was like a Qinghai vulture gliding on outstretched wings among the clouds, surveying this battlefield churning with army dust with a hungry gaze.

"Send another!"

The Feathered Forest Cavalryman dipped his brush and wrote a large character for 'send' on a fresh sheet of letter paper.

"Mongol Brigade: Xie Erhu and Mo Yujing, speedily lead your main force west to the Fengxiang Plateau. Draw ten days' rations at Fengxiang's administrative city. Set out tonight, change course north and exit through Shiyao Pass. Pass through Jingzhou in Pingliang Prefecture to Huating, cross the Liupan Mountains, and follow the Hulu River south. Arrive at Qinzhou in five days. Along the way, intercept and kill Ming army relay cavalry, couriers, and small grain-requisition squads."

"If you encounter a large Ming force, do not seek to assault and annihilate them; merely harass and exhaust them. All other actions are to be decided based on the Guanzhong theater situation. Xie Erhu is authorized to act at his discretion... Send another!"

Yet another military order was handed into the relay scout's hands.

"Order the Ren and Yang units to encamp on the spot. Summon their deputy generals, Zhang Shangxuan and Zu Chengyong, to the central army at once."

After issuing a string of commands, Liu Chengzong turned his head. Han Shiyou, the deputy general of the Tiger Guard Battalion, had already stepped forward, cupping his fist in salute: "Grand Marshal, the earthen mound is piled."

He climbed the earthen mound, first raising his telescope to look northwest. Over ten li away, dust and smoke billowed along the Qian River; the Ningxia border army stationed there was crossing the river in force.

Looking southward again, in the direction of the Wei River over twenty li away, he could likewise see a patch of ochre dust rising from the ground.

A smile of vindication — just as expected — could not help but spread across Liu the Lion's face.

The familiar Ming army dream-bestowed command style had once again made its dazzling entrance.

If they had even a shred of coordination, the Ningxia army should have crossed the river first, seized the advantageous terrain, and kept an eye on Liu Chengzong's army, while Zuo Liangyu and Ai Wannian then launched their city assault.

Now, the sequence was reversed.

Zuo Liangyu and Ai Wannian had fired their cannons and attacked the city first. Liu Chengzong moved the moment he heard the sound, and moved massively, instantly hooking the Ningxia border army.

They were loyal enough — forced to abandon their fortified mountain-plateau camp ramparts, they crossed the Qian River and came onto the Fengxiang Plateau, attempting to pin down Liu Chengzong's main force.

And the army to the south, seeing Liu Chengzong moving south in force, likewise could only split off a portion of its troops. Whether they defended along the river or crossed to reinforce, their forces were ultimately limited.

"Send word: Gao Yingdeng as vanguard, Zhang Tianlin as rearguard. Advance five li southwest and build a camp and ramparts on the plateau, separating their two armies."

"Also send word to Brigade Commander Wang at Fengxiang's administrative city: if the Ningxia battalions come to attack us, then Fengxiang is to sally forth and strike their rear; Qianyang is to sally forth and break their mountain battalions. Burn all the junk in their camps."

Moments later, the Marshal's Army forces of Zhang Tianlin, Gao Yingdeng, and the three Tiger Guard battalions, under the watching eyes of all on the Fengxiang Plateau, used the ditches to provocatively form a great battle array. Inside it, they built camps and ramparts, waiting with tiger-like intensity for the Ming army to attack.

To the south, Long Zaitian realized the Marshal's Army had stopped moving south and immediately ordered his nearly ten thousand troops to halt their river crossing. The churning dust by the riverbank soon settled. Yunnan soldiers, heads wrapped in thick cloth and bodies clad in leather armor, began constructing defensive positions on the south bank of the Wei River, in preparation for any river-crossing raid by the Marshal's Army during the siege.

To the north, the Ningxia army had likewise been maneuvered by Liu Chengzong's provocation into a state of utter bewilderment.

Bu Yingdi and Shen Guangxian had crossed the Qian River, thinking they could use the moment the Marshal's Army was forcing a crossing of the Wei River to launch a sudden assault. They never expected Liu Chengzong to be all thunder and little rain — the main army shifted southwest less than ten li, adjusted its position, and stopped again.

Now, the advantageous terrain on the Fengxiang Plateau was already occupied. The two Ningxia battalions that had crossed the river could neither advance nor retreat for the moment, and could only stand there dumbly, sending men to ask Cao Wenzhao on the west bank of the Qian River for tactical instructions.

Cao Wenzhao was even more baffled by this situation.

He could see Liu Chengzong's purpose in shifting camp: with an army of less than twenty thousand, he had thrust himself between him and Zuo Liangyu, Ai Wannian, and Long Zaitian, splitting their force of over thirty thousand into two parts.

But he had no way of knowing the troop dispositions in eastern Guanzhong. He could only judge from this that Liu Chengzong possessed an extremely unyielding temperament. By shifting camp to intimidate Long Zaitian's Yunnan native troops into deploying defenses along the river, he had in reality already mentally given up on Baoji City.

The southward move was merely a feint; his sword was actually pointed at the four Ningxia battalions. He intended to use the Baoji garrison as the price, waiting for an opportunity to attack the Ningxia troops under his own command.

He could not even trust Zuo Liangyu, who shared his Guanning origins, let alone Long Zaitian, who had rushed to reinforce from Yunnan a thousand li away. Cao Wenzhao did not believe for a second that if he threw himself into a life-or-death struggle with Liu Chengzong, Long Zaitian to the south would cross the river in force to support him.

The key point was that even if Long Zaitian wanted to support, the composition of that ten-thousand-man army — with only two thousand cavalry — made rapid reinforcement very difficult.

Therefore, Cao Wenzhao judged that as long as their side did not charge the formation, Liu Chengzong, outwardly strong but inwardly brittle, would not dare to launch an attack either.

So he gave orders to Shen Guangxian and Bu Yingdi: have them withdraw to the west bank of the Qian River. Order Bai Guang'en to proceed to Longxi to forage for grain as planned. The remaining three battalions were to move south along the relatively safe west bank of the Qian River and draw near Baoji City.

To avoid being isolated and helpless, picked off one by one by Liu Chengzong.

At the same time, they would first capture Baoji City, eliminating the Marshal's Army's foothold on the south bank of the Wei River, and then commit to a full-scale general engagement.

When Liu Chengzong saw the Ningxia border army withdraw again, he could not help but laugh heartily atop the earthen mound, thinking to himself: I'm not attacking because I'm waiting for reinforcements. You're not attacking — what are you waiting for?

Of course, he could not sit idly by and ignore Baoji City, but for victory across the entire battlefield, Luo Rucai had to hold out and defend alone for one day.

Half a shichen later, Zu Chengyong and Zhang Shangxuan, who had been summoned, rode at full speed from Jiedao Village to the central army.

The two had galloped the whole way, their faces ashen as they exchanged silent glances. They reckoned the Grand Marshal's urgent summons meant their troops were to be thrown into tomorrow's siege assault.

The Liao Troop Battalion and the Zhen'gan Battalion had already learned Liu Chengzong's way of using surrendered troops during the earlier siege assault on Qianzhou.

But what he hadn't expected was that Liu Chengzong would lead the two men up the earthen hill, let them survey the situation on the battlefield, and then say, "The situation is what it is now — the general trend of victory and defeat isn't hard to see. The Ming army isn't attacking me now. Once tonight passes, they'll have no chance to attack me again."

"The crack troops you two command — one unit of Guanning cavalry, one of Zhengan infantry — across these loess ridges and gullies, how fast can you move?"

Both men were stunned by the question and looked at each other. On this extremely narrow battlefield, mobility seemed... not very important.

Seeing their hesitation, Liu Chengzong pressed, "Give me a number."

Zu Chengyong glanced at Zhang Shangxuan again, thinking that how fast Liaodong cavalry could move depended on what mission they were carrying out.

When profit was in sight, two days for three hundred li was merely the Guanning Army's standard forced-march requirement; for a death-sentence job, thirty li a day probably exceeded the Liaodong soldiers' maximum limit.

Zhang Shangxuan, on the other hand, was far more straightforward and answered with fighting spirit, "Commander, my Zhengan braves walk mountain paths as if on level ground. If you can allocate eight hundred mules and horses, we can march three hundred li in three days."

"Good!"

Liu Chengzong was extremely satisfied with that figure. "Then you'll get your eight hundred mules and horses. Go back, each of you find your commanding officers, and tell Generals Ren and Yang to set out at once. In five days, reach Pingliang City. Not a single Ming soldier is to enter Pingliang Prefecture!"