Chapter 612: Cannons Hidden in the Camp

Streaks of signal fire shot up, vanishing in an instant against the night sky.

The fierce blaze briefly lit the tableland, revealing cavalry troops chasing and slashing at one another.

South of the battlefield, the four battalions under Cao Wenzhao's command finished crossing the Wei River in full gear, four fiery dragons of raised torches surging mightily toward the northern bank.

He made no attempt whatsoever to conceal his movements.

Although his forces numbered a full ten thousand, had he wished to move covertly, he could still have reached the battlefield with relatively little commotion.

But that would inevitably slow the march. Weighing the two options, Cao Wenzhao believed that since he had already located Liu Chengzong's main camp and the night raid had succeeded, speed was now the most critical condition for victory.

What he did not know was that his younger brother Cao Wenyao, who was leading troops in retreat, nearly wept at the sight of that distant fiery dragon approaching.

How could you get here so fast!

"Quick, tell Marshal Cao the night raid has failed!"

The night raid by two thousand elite troops against Liu Chengzong's main camp had been a total defeat.

The sudden assault from three directions could be said to have routed the Marshal's Army the moment contact was made.

After all, the advantage of a surprise attack was immense — two or three hundred elite cavalry came howling in and, almost in an instant, shattered the four or five hundred resting Marshal's Army soldiers in the small camp, breaking their formation and scattering them into loose troops.

But that was not what Cao Wenyao had come to do.

A rout consists of two phases of combat.

The first is the breaking of the enemy, the second is the pursuit; the former requires shattering their formation, the latter serves to expand the gains.

In other words, during the breaking phase, killing is not necessarily required — as long as the enemy loses their will to fight and their morale, the result is their collapse and your army's occupation of the battlefield.

But whether the enemy truly loses combat effectiveness depends on the outcome of the pursuit.

If you cannot continue the pursuit and expand the gains, then it is very possible that after routing a thousand troops, half a shichen later they will regroup, and you will still be facing a thousand troops.

The problem Cao Wenyao faced was that while they had indeed defeated three small camps of the Marshal's Army from three directions, they could not enter the pursuit phase that follows victory.

Because the enemy was not afraid, and did not panic.

The army had indeed lost command for a short time, but the soldiers did not scatter because of it, nor did they lose morale; instead, each held fast to their wagon barricades.

On the other hand, the scattered Marshal's Army soldiers did not flee either — they counterattacked if they could, ducked into the wagon barricades to fight if they could not counterattack, and lay on the ground playing dead if they could not fight.

In short, they refused to withdraw from the battlefield.

If they would not withdraw, Cao Wenyao had no choice but to withdraw himself, or else be dragged into a positional battle.

In truth, Cao Wenyao dared not enter a positional battle either; after all, nearby Marshal's Army reinforcements were swiftly closing in from left and right, and in the brief moment of hesitation, even the armored cavalry from the main camp came charging out.

What kind of night raid was this supposed to be?

Since the raid had already failed, Cao Wenyao could not possibly use two thousand elite troops to smash headlong into over ten thousand enemy crack soldiers, so he could only order his forces on three sides to retreat.

The southern edge of the Marshal's Army main camp was only seven or eight li from the southern bank of the Wei River. By the time Cao Wenyao had gathered his elite cavalry, Cao Wenzhao had already led his army across the Wei River and was racing this way with torches blazing.

Cao Wenyao was nearly frantic with panic — wouldn't they just get pummeled if they came over?

Actually, no.

Halfway there, Cao Wenzhao sensed something was wrong with the distant battlefield situation and hastily reined in his horse, halting his army three li from the Marshal's Army main camp.

Because the Marshal's Army main camp had been raided at night, yet not a single soldier had fled south — not one. That could not possibly be the sign of a successful night raid!

Moreover, earlier from the southern bank of the Wei River they could still hear faint sounds of slaughter, but now that they had crossed the river, the shouting and killing in the enemy camp had instead fallen silent; they could only see the camp illuminated bright as day by firelight.

The night raid had definitely failed — there was no need to even think about it.

Cao Wenzhao now suspected that his younger brother Cao Wenyao might already have died in the night raid.

To advance or to retreat — that was clearly the question.

Cao Wenzhao did not spend long making his decision. After all, the army had come with torches blazing, and he was well aware that his own forces' movements were already known to the Marshal's Army, making it very difficult to withdraw the entire army intact.

He could therefore only rapidly adjust his deployment: Gao Xian's Shen Guang Battalion at the front, Bu Yingdi's battalion, which had been struck during the night raid, at the rear, with the central army's cavalry screening both flanks. Only then did they slowly press forward, cautiously probing the battlefield situation in the dark of night.

But... they did not watch their rear.

After the Ningxia Army had crossed the river in a mighty torrent, behind them, the gates of Baoji City opened once more.

Luo Rucai, besieged inside the city, was nearly laughing himself mad.

Before, he had no experience defending a city. Even if he had worn out the city defense booklet Liu Shizi had issued, many things he did not understand remained beyond him.

For instance, defending a city with the gates open — it is very hard for someone who has never defended or assaulted a city to grasp the purpose of doing so.

But now it was different; just the matter of opening and closing the city gates was something Luo Rucai could play like a master.

His Baoji City had four gates. Every so often, one would open — when the west gate closed, the east gate opened; when the east gate closed, the north gate opened. In any case, one gate was always open.

The besieging army dared not enter, because entering meant getting pummeled. The outer gate was open, but inside there was still the closed barbican gate.

If the enemy came in through the main gate, once one or two hundred men were let in, the thousand-jin portcullis on the gate tower would drop, and guns and cannons would fire from all four sides of the barbican walls — any troops entering the barbican would be wiped out.

It was even better if the enemy did not come in through the main gate, as that made it easier for our defending troops to leave the city.

The barbican gates were all built out of line with the outer gates. Take the west gate, for example: if the inner gate faced west, then the outer gate would certainly face south or north, so from outside you could not see whether the inner city gate was open or shut.

That was the case for an external barbican.

If it were an internal barbican, it would be the reverse: the outer gate of the west wall would face west, the barbican would be inside, and the inner gate would face south or north.

No moon gate was even needed — from outside, you simply could not see the state of the inner gate.

With the outer gate kept open, the moment the inner gate opened, the defending troops could leave the city at any time.

Luo Rucai in the city could see clearly as the Ningxia Army to the west redeployed. He had originally intended to give them another scare.

Watching the Ningxia Army strike camp and prepare to cross the river, Luo Rucai did not wait for his allies to send word; he mustered a force and made ready at the north of the city to sally forth.

The commander leading the troops this time was not Li Rujue.

On one hand, Li Rujue's unit had been awake all night and had fought several running battles; both men and horses were utterly exhausted and unfit to fight again.

On the other hand, with Li Rujue's successful precedent of slaying two generals in the night, the officers under Luo Rucai all believed the Ningxia Ming army was easy to deal with, and each vied eagerly for the assignment.

The atmosphere was heaven and earth apart from when Li Rujue had gone into battle with the look of a man prepared to die.

The commander leading the troops this time was Luo Rucai's distant cousin-in-law, Wang Guocai.

Wang Guocai had married Luo Daien's niece long before the drought even arrived.

Later, when Luo Rucai rose in revolt, he didn't join in — only when he could no longer survive did he flee to Luo Rucai, became a fire chief, and followed them to Qinghai.

During the Kangning rebellion suppression campaign, he proved capable enough, was promoted two ranks in a row to become a battalion hundred-commander. Later, when he wanted to claim credit for promotion to squad commander, Luo Rucai suppressed it.

So he had been nursing a heavy grudge ever since.

It wasn't that Luo Rucai was some wise leader who promoted the worthy and avoided his kin.

The main issue was that this cousin-in-law wouldn't obey.

Back then, the post he'd found for Wang Guocai was as a village official in Haixi County, where Liu Guoneng was magistrate — a patch of land to raise horses and graze cattle.

Then in Xining, he and his cousin could have lots of children and raise lots of children. Great wealth and rank weren't expected, but with money when they wanted money and land when they wanted land, life would have been comfortable. And later, when Uncle Luo Daien grew old, there'd be someone to care for him in his old age.

Even this post was something Luo Rucai arranged for the sake of his nephew Wang Long. He was very good to that little nephew, just ten years old, and had long since sent him to the Xining Academy to study letters and practice martial arts.

But Luo Rucai rather looked down on this cousin-in-law, even found him a hindrance.

Kinship ties help a man only in stages. When Luo Rucai first started raiding the great houses, having an extra kinsman to huddle together for warmth was true, wholehearted support.

Another factor was a relatively good family background — marriage ties more or less drew in people of ability, and the power of clan relations was naturally important too.

But after Luo Rucai rose up and succeeded, a relative like Wang Guocai… was nothing but dead weight.

In terms of ability, he wasn't outstanding; in terms of loyalty, when the revolt most needed men, you'd rather rot in a cave dwelling, farming and herding sheep for your master, than come help me carry a ladder to raid the great houses.

Once I've succeeded, once I'm holding the bridle and stirrup for Liu Chengzong, the foremost great leader of northern Shaanxi — then you come seeking refuge.

Luo Rucai just thought to himself, you might as well have died in the famine, and I'd marry my cousin off to someone else.

You dog of a thing, hogging my cousin — big matters you can't handle, small matters you can't handle well, and I still have to labor to cultivate you and promote you.

When you break military law and stir up trouble, I have to step forward and protect you; the day you die on the battlefield, the family will blame me for not protecting you well enough.

Being a hundred-commander is enough. If I really promoted you to squad commander, wouldn't you be swanning around in front of me all the time? How annoying!

Of course, kinship ties are generally more trustworthy than ordinary people.

But Luo Rucai had always treated his men with generosity and was a commander who truly won their hearts. With over three thousand men willing to fight for him, he hardly lacked this one.

The same promotion opportunity, given to an outsider like Li Rujia — that man would be overflowing with gratitude. Facing an opponent of unknown strength in this kind of raid, a near-suicidal mission, he'd down a bowl of wine and charge right in.

If it were given to you, you'd take it for granted, all because of that cousin-in-law connection.

But thinking is one thing. When it truly came to a situation like this, an opportunity already proven easy to earn merit in, Luo Rucai still had to favor him when considering it.

After all, Uncle Luo Daien was at his side urging him, pleading with him to give a chance, and Luo Rucai couldn't keep defying him forever.

Besides, he had no intention of defying him. Standing atop the city gate tower, watching Wang Guocai lead four hundred cavalry out of the city, chasing after the backs of the Ningxia army crossing the river, his face was full of elation and ambition.

Uncle Luo Daien at his side admonished him: "This battle may not be so easy — don't underestimate the enemy."

"Ah? Uncle, rest assured, your nephew knows. To the east there's still Zuo Liangyu." Luo Rucai beamed, in an extraordinarily good mood, and clapped his hands. "I reckon when Wang Guocai engages the Ningxia army, our allied forces to the east should also strike Zuo's division. Then we'll sally out."

Others merely thought he believed this raid had a high chance of success, but in truth, Luo Cao had already bloomed with glee inside, his little abacus clicking away furiously.

The reason he agreed to give Wang Guocai this chance to go into battle wasn't entirely because of Uncle Luo Daien's urging.

The truth was, he'd already calculated it in his mind — letting Wang Guocai lead troops into battle truly had no bad outcome.

Winning wasn't bad, and losing… losing, wasn't that even better?

A brother-in-law dying amid the chaos of battle — that is the price our Adjutant Luo pays in service to the Grand Marshal.

Just the right occasion to ask the Grand Marshal to act as matchmaker and marry my little sister off to someone else.

Those three brothers of the Grand Marshal's family are out of the question. Our General Luo isn't handsome, and my little sister can't exactly be called devastatingly beautiful — we can't climb that high.

Best would be marrying her to Yang Chengzu — that'd be kin upon kin, good brothers. But Yang Chengzu is also an adjutant and doesn't lack for women. Still, Little Cripple Liu Guoneng and One-Hand Zhao Kebian could both be considered, and that would count as mutual support.

If that really won't work, as an absolute last resort, we can at least match her with that monk Gama, the Nangqian magistrate who returned to lay life and took a wife. At least then we'd never lack for recruits in Kangning Prefecture. The taijis of the Garrison Herding Battalion — though they're all Tartars, each one is a count or baron of the Grand Marshal's estate, so it wouldn't exactly be a disgrace.

No matter how you look at it, at least it wouldn't bring trouble upon himself.

All good things!

Wang Guocai was no fool — even a blind man could see that his elder brother-in-law couldn't stand him.

On the contrary, he was actually quite clever. Everything he did was low-risk, low-reward — the safest choice.

Back then, Luo Rucai was a lone bachelor, fearing nothing in heaven or on earth. When drought struck, he rallied a band of friends and brothers to plunder the great houses and assault fortified hamlets.

He, Wang Guocai, did have a pair of strong arms, but he'd rather herd sheep for the great houses to scrape by than go risk his life with them.

If he fought and died, what would become of his wife and children?

Of the dozen or so men who first risked their lives with Luo Rucai, weren't only his uncle Luo Daien and his brother Yang Chengzu the ones who made it out?

Later, when he couldn't scrape by anymore and sought refuge with his elder brother-in-law, it was also so the whole family could survive.

Always doing low-risk things, you truly can't attain great wealth and rank, but you can slowly endure. If you never endure your way out, that's fine too — how many men risked death and still never endured their way to great wealth and rank?

Just as when he led his troops across the river, he didn't rush up like a gust of wind to bite at Cao Wenzhao's rear.

He led four battalions of cavalry, slowly following behind the Ningxia army. From a distance, when he saw the Ming army halt, he hurriedly halted too.

Only when the Ming army adjusted its formation and slowly advanced did he then give the order to continue tailing them.

He didn't dare do as Li Rujia had, disguising himself as one of Zuo Liangyu's men to assassinate a commander. Besides, with the great army marching in formation now, the Ming army wouldn't give him any chance to assassinate a commander either.

He was waiting — waiting for a suitable, safe opportunity.

Soon, the opportunity came!

On the eastern part of the Wei River's southern bank, Zhang Xianzhong, who had been in a long standoff, received Liu Chengzong's order and once again launched an attack on the Yunnan troops.

Cao Wenzhao had also already discovered that south of Liu Chengzong's main camp, the army's formation was strict and orderly, troops and horses all drawn up behind war wagons, just waiting for them to attack.

But the moment gunfire and cannon fire rang out on the southern bank, Cao Wenzhao could only steel his resolve and order his soldiers to advance, to fight a night battle head-on against the Grand Marshal's army.

Only, he hadn't expected that Liu Chengzong had assigned all his cannons to Gao Yingdeng's camp in the south — and the commander operating the cannons under Gao Yingdeng was named Tang Tong.

The troops of Shen Guangxian's camp had only just arrayed their battle formation and were pushing three Folangji-style great general cannons into range. Just as they were about to order the cannons emplaced and fired, they heard two bangs from the distant army formation.

Two solid iron cannonballs crossed a full li of range and landed not far from their formation.

Shen Guangxian didn't see the cannonballs, but a veteran commander's ears were sharp — one listen and he knew they were large-caliber heavy cannons, and non-Folangji-style heavy cannons at that.

The reload time for heavy cannons like these was extremely long — more than enough for them to charge the formation and storm the camp.

The moment he saw this, he burst out cheering: "The enemy's fired their cannons — quick, cavalry smash their lines, infantry follow up, don't give them time to reload!"

On the other side of the battle formation, before the marshal's standard where armored soldiers stood thick as a forest, Tang Tong, draped in a crimson battle cloak baring his left shoulder, wore an indifferent expression.

He stuffed a strip of horse-meat jerky into his mouth, chewed a couple of times, and hearing the hoofbeats approaching from not far off, gave a contemptuous little laugh: "Is that it?"

He turned his head to look at his subordinate officers Wai Liangzi and Li Baliang beside him and gave the order: "Signal the artillery — enemy cavalry within a hundred paces, fire all cannons loaded with grapeshot!"