Chapter 608: Fatal Imagination

The boom of the Camp-Startling Cannon was truly terrifying.

But what was even more terrifying was that Long Zaitian's thousand Yunnan troops were not frightened by the Camp-Startling Cannon at all.

The southwest during the Tianqi and Chongzhen reigns was no peaceful place; the aftereffects of the gaitu guiliu policy made the ferocity of the battles between Yunnan and Guizhou no less than those in northern Shaanxi.

Fifteen years ago, Long Zaitian was merely a village head. That he rose to high rank and now leads ten thousand troops to reinforce Shaanxi is owed entirely to years of fighting every rebellious tusi across both Yunnan and Guizhou.

Yunnan is remote, and in the long wars, its native and Han troops had great difficulty obtaining the latest firearms. Precisely because of this, Long Zaitian's Yunnan troops were all the more familiar with the antique Ming-dynasty firearms.

In other words, Zhang Xianzhong's use of the Camp-Startling Cannon was picking up antiques from a century ago to make a racket on the battlefield.

And for the Yunnan troops, being shelled by Camp-Startling Cannons was simply a common tactic used by enemies when they encountered battle.

They couldn't be more familiar with it.

Their fighting spirit even burned fiercer: the divine weapons of the northern Ming army weren't so novel after all; the Camp-Startling Cannon still only fired thirty bangs out of sixty shots!

The exploding shells were indeed devastating, but just as recruits fear cannons while veterans fear guns, people often hold different views toward familiar weapons.

Cannons firing exploding shells generally have short calibers, because the shells are large. To fire far, you need more powder, but cast-iron exploding shells themselves can only withstand relatively low bore pressure.

For example, the Bowl-Mouth Cannon, with a barrel only three times its caliber, is utterly incapable of accurate fire when using exploding shells at long range.

If the Lion Cannon can be aimed at individual soldiers in flat-trajectory fire at a hundred paces — not guaranteed to hit, of course, but at least you can sight it and have a probability of hitting —

then the Bowl-Mouth Cannon loaded with an exploding shell, at a hundred paces, can only aim at a company of a hundred men, and even then it's not guaranteed to hit.

At the same time, to avoid accidents, loading exploding shells requires pouring in wet earth and wax-sealing, far more laborious than solid shot. Thus, armies that frequently use this weapon all understand that it lacks sustained power and its shock effect is not that strong.

When the Yunnan troops faced the exploding shell bombardment, the junior officers displayed extraordinary courage and valor.

The Yunnan soldiers, heads wrapped in black or white scarves, each held their line. In particular, their unit had few muskets. When a soldier carrying a musket was blasted down by cannon fire, the soldiers beside him not only showed no fear but lunged forward to seize his gun and ammunition, becoming the new musketeer.

If you set aside those few dozen muskets in their formation, Long Zaitian's tusi troops actually looked very much like a living fossil in appearance.

They wore red-lacquered rawhide armor, carried ring-pommeled dao at their waists, hefted heavy three-man-tall pikes, and bore crossbows. You could say they were the Wudang Flying Army and people would believe you.

In truth, they were indeed as fierce and skilled in battle as the Wudang Flying Army.

When the rumbling of hooves rose before the lines of the two battalions, the vast Lintao Brigade's banner troops closed in in great horizontal formations. Several officers of Hundred-Household origin had already drawn their blades at the side of the ranks, shouting as they surged forward.

From Zhang Xianzhong at the top down to the squad leaders, the entire army unanimously believed this battle would require little effort — a single charge would send these few hundred Ming troops reeling back into their own main formation.

Because they all possessed the typical Han mindset.

The Han are shrewd. Even when flying into a helpless rage, even when death looms, they will still calculate with their lives whether the deal is a gain or a loss.

So Han soldiers need to solve a problem, a simple arithmetic problem: on one side is their own life, on the other is the meaning of dying in battle. Only when the answer is "dying here is worth it" can they press forward without hesitation.

In the eyes of Zhang Xianzhong and the Lintao Brigade's banner troops, the Ming soldiers dying in this night raid was clearly not worth it. This place was no vital ground to contest. Even if they fought desperately to block, first, they couldn't hold, and second, even if they did, so what?

Since the answer was "not worth it," they ought to collapse and rout.

But different living environments, cultural customs, and beliefs determine that different people hold different views on life and death.

For example, the tribal soldiers under Basang never asked whether it was worth it. Chanting a few Buddhist invocations, they would advance steadily into the General's Cannons: this life has been hard; the Buddha goes ahead first, off to reincarnate.

Long Zaitian's Yunnan troops were also very simple.

Their custom was to mock cowards.

Facing enemy guns and cannons, dodging was a disgrace, a humiliation.

On top of this, each battalion under Long Zaitian was formed with tusi headmen as officers and native people as soldiers. Military law was extremely harsh and cruel, and it was also a feudal army bound by ties of clan, blood, neighbors, and master-servant relationships.

This meant that if someone committed a cowardly act on the battlefield, being summarily executed by military law was a small matter; the whole hometown knowing you were a coward — that social death was the big matter.

At that very moment, just after Zhang Xianzhong ordered his army forward, Shi Xiang, in front of the formation, was holding back Yang Guodong's cavalry and assigning the brigade generals Zhang Yunqi and Li Zude to lead six thousand troops in a divided advance, when he witnessed an astonishing sight.

Under the torchlight, the native soldier headmen, draped in black cloaks and with heads wrapped in black scarves, each stepped forward. Facing the surging Lintao troops, they not only did not retreat or evade but actually advanced to the front of the formation, each blowing a horn.

The soldier-leaders all wore large black cloaks and lacquer-painted rawhide armor. They blew their horns and spun, each man like a black top whirling and leaping before the formation. For a moment, the blaring of horns rose and fell at the front. After spinning a few circles, every man drew his ring-pommeled dao and actually charged straight into the Lintao Brigade's onslaught.

Behind them, the several hundred Yunnan troops of the two battalions did the same: firing crossbows in volley, forming a forest of pikes, drawing ring-pommeled dao, they formed small arrays and launched a counter-charge head-on.

Shi Xiang had never seen such a bizarre sight. Mounted on his horse, instead of anger, he laughed and raised a hand to point at the messenger: "Go, tell Brigade General Zhang to bypass these men from the right flank and let Li Zude deal with them. Brigade General Yang, you go too — left flank, strike the troops behind him!"

"If we can't roll up the curtain in reverse, then we'll smash them head-on and break them one by one. I refuse to believe... fine, so we can't beat the northern rebels, but we can't even beat some southern barbarians?"

Yang Guodong had not yet gone far. Hearing this, his steps faltered. He mused to himself that this Commander Shi Xiang really held a grudge — so much anger just from being raided in camp once? He still couldn't let it go.

Under the cover of night, unit after unit crashed into each other. Crossbow bolts shot fiercely through the gunpowder smoke, and ring-pommeled dao and pikes thrust out amid the charging slaughter.

Amid the sky-shaking battle cries, Zhang Xianzhong used one battalion in the center to pin the Yunnan troops' line, while two battalions outflanked them from the left and right wings.

Meanwhile, Long Zaitian, whose attention was focused on the northern bank of the Wei River, also realized something was wrong the moment the Camp-Startling Cannons boomed.

When the battalion commanders of the two battalions to the east sent word that the eastern side couldn't hold, Long Zaitian had already dispatched six five-hundred-man battalions in succession to reinforce them. He then reported to Zuo Liangyu, requesting that Zuo Liangyu send reinforcements.

Although even at this point, Long Zaitian still did not know how many Marshal's troops were to the east, he could roughly judge the situation.

Liu Chengzong's main force was on the northern bank of the Wei River — his scouts had seen this with their own eyes — and now a large-scale enemy force was launching a surprise attack from the east. That meant he had to defend on two fronts.

Then requesting reinforcements was unavoidable.

Long Zaitian had only ten thousand Yunnan troops under his command. Four thousand had been dispatched to defend the east, and two thousand cavalry were held in the central army as a mobile reserve. That meant with only eight battalions and four thousand men on the southern bank of the Wei, it was impossible to defend a riverbank over a dozen li wide.

When the time came, a single charge by Liu Chengzong's army from the north would sweep them to total defeat.

Zuo Liangyu, in the siege camp, now saw the flaw in their deployment.

Their army was not small, but it was pinned down everywhere.

East of Baoji, Long Zaitian's ten thousand men were pinned by the east and the north.

West of Baoji, Cao Wenzhao's ten thousand-plus men were pinned by the Marshal's troops who had burned the camp to the northwest.

Beneath the walls of Baoji, he and Ai Wannian's six thousand troops from Changping and Yansui were pinned by the garrison inside the city.

"Damn it, the rebels have pulled another army out of nowhere. The east can't hold — we must spare an elite force to reinforce them."

Zuo Liangyu turned to look at Ai Wannian, seated in a folding chair: "Brother Yuhua, will you go, or shall I?"

Ai Wannian said nothing. He gestured for the household retainers in the tent to help him up.

Three robust household retainers exerted tremendous effort just to lift General Ai, half-dead from rectal prolapse, to his feet.

Zuo Liangyu could hardly bear to look. Ai Wannian, a military juren from a xiucai background, had been worn down to this state by the brutal warfare in just a few years — vomiting above, spraying below, bleeding from both ends, struggling even to stand, yet still having to lead troops into battle for the court.

Then they heard Ai Wannian sigh and say, "I'll go."

"You… can you handle it?"

Ai Wannian turned his head and glanced at him, his eyes complicated, and said nothing.

He thought to himself, what kind of bullshit question is that — do I have a choice?

You stay outside the city besieging Baoji. If the outer battlefield turns against us and Luo Rucai charges out from the city, you're quick on your feet — fight and withdraw as you go.

With my goddamn movement speed, if Luo Rucai charges out I'll have nowhere to retreat to. Going to defend the south bank of the Wei River at least gives me depth. With the Wei River there, I can more or less match Liu Chengzong in the river in terms of movement speed — a close contest.

Ai Wannian had no wish to dwell on this subject. He directly ordered the Yansui Army to prepare to move camp, and only then said to Zuo Liangyu, "We can't let the battle be led by the nose. The urgent task is still to first find where Liu Chengzong is."

Although Zhang Xianzhong leading the Shi-Xiang division onto the battlefield had exceeded the Ming commanders' expectations,

Ai Wannian still had not forgotten the original combat objective. They had to find Liu Chengzong, launch a sudden strike at him with their elite household troop, and take his head.

In daylight, this plan would be very simple, but right now it was deep night. Apart from Zhang Xianzhong's force to the east, they had no idea where the rest of the Marshal's Army was, let alone how to pinpoint Liu Chengzong's exact position.

But no sooner had he spoken these resounding words than several riders came galloping in disarray to the west of the camp. The one in front was a household trooper from the camp, who said in panic, "Commander Zuo, grave news — the bandit soldiers have killed Vice General Luo!"

Zuo Liangyu blinked. His ears heard the words, but his mind hadn't caught up yet. He thought, what the hell is this bastard blathering?

"He took several hundred cavalry — how could he be killed?"

"Rebel soldiers disguised themselves as Commander Cao's subordinate officers and hailed General Luo north of the city. A volley of random arrows shot General Luo dead."

Zuo Liangyu closed his eyes and tilted his head back, feeling all the blood in his body rush to his head, dizzy and reeling.

After a moment, he steadied his emotions. He opened his mouth several times before he managed to ask, "Was it rebel soldiers, or bandit soldiers?"

What he actually wanted to ask was whether this Marshal's Army force that had slipped between their eastern and western armies had come from the north or from the south.

In truth, they were all the Marshal's Army. It was just that to the Ming army, those from the north were rebel troops — Liu Chengzong's main force; those from the south were the Baoji garrison — the bandit soldiers under Luo Rucai.

But this question was clearly far too profound for a household trooper who had followed Luo Dai to the north of Baoji city and taken a beating.

"Th-this… Commander Zuo, this humble one does not know."

The household trooper thought carefully. In his mind, he mostly suspected the rebel army had crossed the river, but his own status was far too far below Zuo Liangyu's, and he dared not venture his own analysis.

He could only steel himself and report, "This humble one followed the General after receiving Commander Zuo's orders. When we reached north of the city, we saw a large force moving stealthily. The General ordered us to go forward and stop them."

"The rebel soldiers said they were Cao Dingjiao, a Mobile Corps Commander under Commander Cao, and his men. They directly cried for help, saying the enemy force behind them was about to catch up. The General suspected nothing, so he spurred his horse forward to question them more closely."

"Then a whistling arrow struck the General. Yes, a whistling arrow. In an instant, dozens of arrows flew wildly through the darkness. The General was caught off guard and hit in the face. We fought them in a chaotic melee. Then Baoji city opened its north gate, and another band of brigands charged out."

"We fought desperately to recover the General, fighting as we retreated. Those two groups, for some unknown reason, actually fought each other for quite a while. Only after a good long time did they split into two groups — one entering the city, the other heading north."

Having spoken, the household trooper took out his arrow case, drew out a broken feathered arrow, and presented it, saying, "Commander Zuo, this was the whistling arrow."

Zuo Liangyu took the whistling arrow and narrowed his eyes slightly. "Everything you've said is the truth?"

The household trooper kowtowed. "Commander Zuo, see clearly — this humble one dares not speak a single half-false word!"

On the shaft of the broken arrow, someone had carved five characters: Li Rujia of Yan'an.

Zuo Liangyu ground his teeth. "Liu Chengzong uses troops like a ghost, his form and shadow flitting and elusive — he has broken one of my great generals!"

To him, the intelligence from this night raid had now all connected.

It was Liu Chengzong who had sent Li Rujia to cross the Wei River at the seam between them and the Ningxia border army.

This small elite force first raided Cao Wenzhao's camp, then charged east like lightning, running straight into Luo Dai who was coming to assist, and shot Luo Dai dead.

In the process, that muddle-headed fool Luo Rucai inside the city saw fighting outside and, without caring about the whys and wherefores, sent troops out to fight first and ask questions later. They ended up in a fratricidal clash with Li Rujia's men, so that Li Rujia's force withdrew in frustration and crossed the river back to the north bank of the Wei.

In truth, Liu Chengzong was also very wronged. He had clearly done nothing at all — it was entirely thanks to Big Brother Zuo's outstanding imaginative powers.

The real situation was of course nothing like what Zuo Liangyu imagined.

The reason Li Rujia's group clashed with the city's reinforcements after shooting Luo Dai was entirely because the Ming troops who had broken out with him realized something was wrong after the Ming general died, and just then Luo Rucai's men came out of the city.

These coerced Ningxia soldiers might have been confused about Luo Dai to the east, but they knew perfectly well that Luo Rucai inside the city was definitely the enemy.

They couldn't win a fight, couldn't go back west, and after killing Luo Dai it was even less possible to go east — they could only cross the river north and become deserters.

But in Zuo Liangyu's eyes, the situation was now completely different.

He wrote rapidly, telling Cao Wenzhao the intelligence he knew, and at the same time suggested, "In ancient times, Zhang Xiu fought Cao Cao — first defeated, then victorious. Right now, the bandit Liu has first secretly crossed the Wei River and won a round against us, then launched a major assault with his eastern army. The troops stationed on the north bank will surely let their guard down on defense."

"If Commander Cao launches a raid on their camp now, he will certainly win a great victory and reverse our army's unfavorable situation!"