Chapter 674: Broom Spirit

The Military Prefecture yamen.

Liu Chengzong sat upright in the main hall, frowning as he leafed through official dispatches sent from Tong Pass.

There were two dispatches. One was a request for instructions from Zhao Zhirui, Vice General of Tong Pass, regarding the specific deployment for receiving the remnants of Mobile Corps Commander Zhang Yichuan's troops into the pass.

The other was an oral account dictated by Song Jiang, Mobile Corps Commander of the Henan Five Battalions, detailing the entire Henan Prefecture campaign and the defeat of Zhang Yichuan's forces.

Liu the Lion's expression was strange.

He had taken his eyes off Zhang Yichuan for just a moment, and Zhang Yichuan had gone from bandit chief to the realm's foremost great bandit, then plunged from the peak.

Utterly farcical.

According to Song Jiang's oral account, after Zhang Yichuan captured Yongning, his troop strength swelled at breakneck speed. By the time they besieged Luoyang, the forces under his command had ballooned to sixty or seventy thousand.

The five Mobile Corps Commanders under his banner each led one battalion of veteran elite troops, overseeing twenty or thirty large contingents.

Henan had many people, and the civilian armies swept along or attaching themselves were beyond counting. Zhang Yichuan, for his part, turned none away.

Liu Chengzong's regular-army method of organizing troops was unsuitable for these civilian armies made up of the old, the weak, women, and children, so they simply followed the peasant army's command method and called them large contingents.

A single large contingent ranged from as few as two or three hundred people to as many as five or six hundred, surging eastward in a vast, chaotic mass.

Zhang Yichuan's title "Sweeping King" truly was not given in error.

Wasn't this just one Mobile Corps Commander leading one battalion, and then bringing twenty or thirty villages along as they moved?

Though separated by only a single Tong Pass, the ways of doing things west and east of the pass were completely different.

On this side, it was grand battle formations smashing armies, slaying generals, storming cities, and seizing territory. On that side, it was sweeping up a hundred thousand starving ghosts, wailing plague gods running wild.

It was an eye-opener for Liu the Lion.

Six years had passed since the uprising in Fushi County. He had heard people speak of "roving bandits" and "roving marauders" until his ears grew calluses.

But he had never imagined, not in his wildest dreams, that a genuine, full-blown great roving marauder of the Chongzhen era would turn out to be someone he had personally dispatched instructors to train and personally sent out.

Liu the Lion's heart was extremely conflicted.

I sent instructors, gave weapons, issued traveling grain.

And all you learned was to sweep up every person you saw?

Zhao Zhirui was an old general. As far back as when Liu Chengzong was still shooting birds at Yuhe Fort, Zhao had been transferred from Shanxi Regional Military Commission Seal-Bearer to Gansu as Suzhou Mobile Corps Commander, a post he held for eight straight years.

Upon receiving news of the defeat east of the pass, he had, with superb professionalism, done three things in the shortest possible time.

First, he assembled over two hundred officers in the camp who had not taken leave, tightened military discipline, and prepared sulfur and medicine.

Second, he dispatched riders at full speed to report to Xi'an, informing the central army of Zhang Yichuan's defeat and requesting that the Tong Pass Guard banner troops assist in defending Tong Pass and that the Wuguan garrison take precautions.

Third, still obeying Liu Chengzong's orders, he had set up an isolation camp outside the pass, and prepared tents, firewood, bedding, and rations inside the camp and the barbican, ready to receive the Henan Chief Military Command's forces.

In the end, the arrangements at the isolation camp outside the city walls went largely unused.

In Zhao Zhirui's dispatch, the condition of Song Jiang's troops when they entered the pass was a sight too wretched to behold.

Over eight hundred broken soldiers and defeated officers, arriving near the pass city in three batches over four days, discarding armor and helmets, every man wounded, every man dazed and soul-lost, like birds startled by the mere twang of a bow.

Mobile Corps Commander Song Jiang was among the second batch, carried into the pass city on a door plank, his body struck by eight arrows and three blades, owing his life entirely to his cloth-faced armor.

With so few men entering the barbican in batches, the isolation camp outside the pass city was not needed at all.

For Song Jiang, this battle had truly only begun when the defeat started.

At first, they besieged Luoyang. Learning that the court had appointed a civil official, Zhang Renxue, as Henan Chief Military Commander to relieve the siege of Luoyang, they awaited him in full battle array near Henan Prefecture.

His battle report also cleared up a puzzle for Liu Chengzong: why Zhang Yichuan had not blockaded the ancient Xiao Pass road, which bordered the Song peaks to the south and the Yellow River to the north.

Because these few foolish fellows actually believed that while they had the advantage in troop numbers, their soldiers were not elite enough, and they would be no match for government troops on a narrow battlefield.

Moreover, given that Zhang Renxue was a scholar leading troops, they deliberately intended to draw Zhang Renxue's Henan army into the plains of Henan Prefecture to fight, using their own rich experience in battle formations to defeat him.

On this point, Liu Chengzong could not say their thinking was wrong.

Warfare is inherently like this. Although fixed formulas that determine success or failure objectively exist, there has never been a shortage of novel tactics that go against the grain.

Tactics and methods of war can only be adapted to local conditions; there is no rigidly applied, sure-win formula.

Whether it works or not ultimately depends on victory or defeat.

If you win, you are an eternal famous general; if you lose, you are a cautionary tale.

But Liu Chengzong did think that Zhang Yichuan's consideration of the problem was not comprehensive enough — he had missed at least one point.

If the one coming had been a fierce general confident in his martial might, charging and striking furiously like Cao Wenzhao, then Zhang Yichuan might truly have been able to use his numerical advantage to bury him inside.

The problem was, Zhang Renxue was a presented scholar by background — on what grounds would he lose in devising strategies and deploying troops on an open battlefield?

Furthermore, the Henan Five Battalions had also miscalculated one conceptual point.

That is, Zhang Renxue was not a scholar leading troops.

That Lu Xiangsheng in Yunyang — that was a scholar leading troops, because his official post was Grand Coordinator, with no direct superior-subordinate relationship; his orders were all in the realm of guidance.

So he needed to coordinate officers of all levels. If coordination went well, it was a command; if coordination went poorly, it was his fate, and he could only lead his own contingent battalion into battle to hack at people.

But Zhang Renxue was different. He was not only a proper military officer leading troops, but also a very special kind of military officer.

Transferred from civil service as a Censor and Army Supervisor into a military post, in the entire territory of Henan's eight prefectures, there was no one who could restrain him. All the troops and horses of the Central Region were in his hands, and he held a very rigid superior-subordinate relationship over all military officers.

One could say this was a true Chief Military Commander.

The result was obvious. On Zhang Renxue's side, the battle had already begun, while Zhang Yichuan still had no idea where the enemy was.

There was no other reason. Zhang Renxue simply had no intention of sending troops to contest strength with Zhang Yichuan's tens of thousands.

His opening move was to offer amnesty to the righteous armies.

On one hand, he incited the stockade forts, local bandits, and powerful families throughout Henan Prefecture; on the other, he sent death-exemption tallies to every large contingent under Zhang Yichuan's banner.

In a short time, local braves and militia corps swarming up everywhere ambushed and attacked the large contingents foraging for grain on Luoyang's outskirts; meanwhile, one large contingent after another rose in revolt internally, either breaking away and fleeing or turning their weapons around.

Zhang Yichuan still had to place his most elite veteran battalion in the east, keeping a constant close watch on the Xingyang and Sishui directions, guarding against Zhang Renxue suddenly leading troops to strike.

He had a mind to withdraw, but the Grand Coordinator Chen Biqian and the Prince of Fu inside Luoyang city had long prepared a death squad. The moment they saw any sign he intended to leave, they would immediately send death warriors out of the city to pursue and kill.

Desperate to force a battle, he then discovered that the strategic choke point of Sishui Town was garrisoned by Chen Yongfu, dispatched by Zhang Renxue, and could not be breached.

In the end, with no other options left, Zhang Yichuan was forced — despite commanding tens of thousands of troops — to summon the five battalion commanders and draw lots to decide their retreat direction.

Afterward, the army collapsed in a single day under attack from all sides. That same day, Zhang Renxue surged forward with his forces and effortlessly shattered Zhang Yichuan's tens of thousands.

As for Song Jiang, he simply drew the lot to retreat west and was the first to leave the battlefield — yet because he entered Yongning City, Zhang Renxue mistook him for Zhang Yichuan's main force, and he ended up taking the most brutal beating.

Just then, a Palace Guard attendant came to report: "Grand Marshal, Zhang, the Minister of the Rites Office, requests an audience."

Moments later, Zhang Xianzhong entered the hall with several letters tucked in his robes. Just as he was about to speak, he noticed Liu Chengzong's unusual expression and asked, "Grand Marshal, what's happened?"

Liu Chengzong raised a hand for Zhao Jifang to hand over the battle report, saying, "The Henan Chief Commander's forces — they didn't lose because their skill was inferior, but were instead dragged down by expanding too fast. It's become Zhang Renxue's claim to fame."

Zhang Xianzhong held the battle report with a solemn face, reading it over and over. His expression twisted violently; his entire look screamed that he could barely stand to look.

After a long moment, the Minister of Rites finally shook his head and lamented, "This useless fool — what Sweeping King? He's just a broomstick that's turned into a spirit!"

"That great official Zhang used a tiny little trick, and this broomstick spirit got beaten into pieces."

When it came to Zhang Yichuan, who wanted to enter Fengyang Prefecture to sweep the ancestral tombs, Zhang Xianzhong's sharp tongue was never stingy.

Only after he'd finished mocking did he put on a solemn face and say, "This is losing the army and disgracing the nation, Grand Marshal."

To be honest, the nickname "Old Broomstick Spirit" didn't make Liu the Lion laugh — but Zhang Xianzhong's expression of loyal devotion to the nation genuinely cracked him up.

Liu Chengzong had moved his household to Xi'an, and even he himself found it unreal.

Although the Marshal's Mansion ruled a vast territory, it was full of impassable and untaxable land. Before the eastern campaign, their true base was only the narrow Hehuang Valley, four hundred li deep.

In terms of population and foundation, to put it bluntly, it was just one large county.

Now it was a snake trying to swallow an elephant. Vast swaths of Shaanxi's land were still under nominal rule, and the fruits of victory from a single Xi'an Prefecture — even after two months — were still giving them indigestion.

He, the Grand Marshal, was ready at any moment to lead troops to suppress rebellions or mount his horse and flee.

Let's be honest — among the people in the Marshal's Mansion, who would take the outcome of battles outside Shaanxi seriously?

No one.

Zhang Xianzhong was purely treating Zhang Yichuan's defeat as a joke, while forcing a serious expression.

"It's not quite that serious."

Liu Chengzong waved his hand, paused, then said, "His early defeat isn't so bad. Whether for the people of Henan or for him, it's a good thing."

For the people of Henan, no one could withstand that broomstick spirit winning battles.

If Zhang Yichuan had beaten Zhang Renxue, he might really have swept up a million followers and marched straight on the capital.

But he definitely couldn't have won later on, and that's when the real devastation would have come.

Zhang Xianzhong, seeing the Grand Marshal didn't care much about this defeat, finally grinned: "This broomstick spirit is clever, though — instead of running back, he ran toward Fengyang!"

Liu Chengzong agreed with this assessment and nodded: "Zhang Renxue may have won, but a defeated Zhang Yichuan is far more formidable than a victorious Zhang Yichuan."

Without a solid officer foundation, even Liu the Lion would struggle to lead fifty or sixty thousand men, let alone Zhang Yichuan.

But if he's only leading three to five thousand, then once Zhang Yichuan leaves Shaanxi and enters those long-peaceful regions, he might actually sweep through unopposed.

"We need to prepare for war. Who knows if the plague in the east will pass this winter. Zhang Yichuan is bound to stir up a huge mess."

Liu Chengzong narrowed his eyes, pondering the situation. The huge mess in his mind wasn't digging up the imperial ancestral tombs.

To be honest, that was a job that required no brains at all.

Nor would it have any terrifying consequences — in the end, it only involved the imperial family's face.

The rulers of this era — including Liu Chengzong, Hong Taiji, and the Chongzhen Emperor — none of them cared too much about face.

Liu Chengzong: I'm going to cut off the barbarians.

Then he entered the pass with sea bandits.

Hong Taiji: We used to kill people recklessly, but now we've changed.

His army turned around and massacred the city.

Chongzhen: Let our people toil just one more year.

The next year: Let our people toil one more year again.

Whose words aren't like farts?

Face?

Do they even have such a thing?

Liu the Lion wasn't afraid of Zhang Yichuan doing something stupid — he was afraid that once he entered South Zhili, he'd suddenly grow a brain and cut off the canal transport.

If he dared cut off canal transport for three months, the Ming's North Zhili would dare to collapse.

Collapse wasn't the problem — the problem was that Liu Chengzong couldn't clean up the mess after the collapse. That was the real problem.

But he couldn't contact Zhang Yichuan now, so he could only focus on his own affairs. He told Zhao Jifang to draft an order settling Song Jiang's remnants at Tongguan Garrison, then turned to Zhang Xianzhong.

"You came here with letters?"

Zhang Xianzhong then remembered why he'd come. He took the letters from his robes and presented them, saying, "Yes, Grand Marshal. Letters from Hanzhong."

The sender was Gao Yingxiang. Aside from congratulations on taking Shaanxi, the letter's main content was to inform Liu Chengzong that war had broken out in Hanzhong.

Gao Yingxiang had linked up with Yao Zhangru the Sky-Shaker and his group, advancing together from north and south to attack Hou Liangzhu, who was stationed on the south bank of the Han River.

Starting a war in the depths of winter — it was hard to understand.

But in this era, it was perfectly normal. If they didn't start fighting, they'd run out of food.

Gao Yingxiang, the Farming King, trapped by floods in the mountains north of the Han, was quite skilled at restoring production. He'd grown quite a bit of grain, but couldn't keep up with the sheer number of disaster victims; more and more people were clinging to him for survival.

However, he had witnessed the capabilities of a proper army formation like the Lion Battalion from the very beginning — he wasn't an old broomstick spirit like Zhang Yichuan.

Gao Yingxiang's method was to force the refugees to farm for him, or even just toss the land to others, while he focused solely on picking elite soldiers. When he truly couldn't sustain them anymore, he'd come down from the mountains to fight.

As for Yao Zhangru in northern Sichuan, he hadn't originally planned to touch Hanzhong. They'd gone into eastern Sichuan to fight in the autumn, but Qin Liangyu beat them three times in three battles, so they turned north instead. They hit it off with Gao Yingxiang immediately and decided to deal with Hou Liangzhu together.

Liu Chengzong read the letter and felt Gao Yingxiang's writing was disjointed, so he asked, "Who delivered this letter?"

"His nickname is Middle Dipper Star. His name is Gao Ying'en."

As soon as Zhang Xianzhong finished, Liu Chengzong smiled: "I knew he wasn't dead. Where is he now? Bring him here. Master Gao must have sent him with a message."

Gao Ying'en was waiting at the Ceremonial Office outside the palace gate. Before long, he entered the main hall of the Military Prefecture office, glancing left and right. When he saw Liu Chengzong, he was overjoyed and quickly cupped his fists. "Grand Marshal, you're on a completely different level now — this princely mansion is truly enormous."

"Master Gao sent you over, brother — there must be a message to deliver?" Liu Chengzong smiled. "I read this letter. It has neither head nor tail."

The moment Gao Ying'en heard Liu Chengzong call him brother, the nervous tension gripping his heart eased by more than half. A relaxed look came over his face. "I came to see you, Grand Marshal, precisely because I have a request!"

"Trouble attacking Hanzhong?"

Liu Chengzong thought it over briefly. If not for that great flood, Hou Liangzhu — that fellow who didn't even dare send troops out to fight in the north — probably wouldn't be a match for Gao Yingxiang.

He asked, "Military provisions? Armor and weapons? Gunpowder? Or do you need reinforcements?"

"None of those."

Gao Ying'en shook his head, a trace of pride on his face. "To be frank, after my brother weeded out the old and weak to work the fields, he still has eight battalions of crack troops. Add to that the forty-thousand-odd men under Yao Huang, and taking Hanzhong shouldn't be difficult."

"But taking it is easy — entering Sichuan is the hard part. So my brother wants to ask the Grand Marshal to appoint an official post in Sichuan, and also dispatch civil officials to Hanzhong, so we can govern the cities and towns we capture."