Chapter 680: The Peril of Mountains and Rivers

Just as Yang Sichang was in Beijing presenting Emperor Chongzhen with his strategy to pacify the realm.

Two thousand li away in the Western Capital, another man surnamed Yang was likewise laying before Liu Chengzong a plan to conquer the realm.

In the great hall of the military headquarters at the Prince of Qin's palace, the lamps still blazed bright after nightfall; the dim glow of oil lamps and the light of warming charcoal braziers mingled, casting the shadows of the high-ranking officers attending the council into bizarre, clawing shapes upon the screen.

From behind the screen, a voice rang out with four resounding words: "The peril of mountains and rivers!"

It was Yang Dingrui.

On the map he traced a great circle south of the Yan Mountains, east of the Taihang Mountains, and north of the Yellow River, then placed the wooden figurine representing the Ming army at Beijing.

"Push everything back to the mountain-river line — what's the point of still holding Beijing?"

Cao Yao, wrapped in a fur robe, held a smoking pipe in one hand and scratched the scar on his forehead with the other as he looked at the map and spoke: "North of the Yellow and Huai Rivers, south of the Yan Mountains — that's all fine, fertile flatland."

Liu Chengzong, however, understood Yang Dingrui's line of thinking better, and said with a smile: "Keep the Northern Metropolitan Region, and dump all the fellows unwilling to follow us over there, so we avoid internal strife. Besides, if you really attack, what if Chongzhen dies on you to spite us?"

Zhang Xianzhong looked thoroughly displeased: "Wouldn't that just be handing Beijing over to the Yellow Tatars on a platter?"

"Not necessarily."

Yang Dingrui did not speak in absolutes on this matter; he pushed up his tortoiseshell spectacles, because in his heart he was not certain either.

He merely said: "With the strength of the Northern Metropolitan Region, Shandong, and Liaodong, resisting the Eastern Brigands alone is enough."

"Right now the Great Ming is suppressing bandits and quelling rebellions north and south of the Great River, yet in the east it still holds off the Eastern Brigands. Its revenues are smaller, but its expenditures are smaller too."

"What's more, once our army takes Shanxi, if the Eastern Brigands come west out of Daning, our forces will go east out of Jining. With the northern route blocked, they can only batter themselves to death along the Liaodong line."

Wang Ziyong toyed with his purple-gold Daoist crown, placed it down on the Northern Metropolitan Region, and said: "Commander, when the time comes, let me go to the Northern Metropolitan Region. If the Eastern Brigands truly break through the passes, our Three Calamities Society will make sure they can't move an inch in the northern territories!"

Liu Chengzong sat cross-legged on a wool felt rug, watching with a grin as this pack of wolves from the command headquarters sprawled over the map of the realm and feasted with gusto.

They had even begun worrying on behalf of the Great Ming — what to do if it couldn't beat the Later Jin.

"The gentleman is right. With the strength of the Northern Metropolitan Region, Shandong, and Liaodong, it is enough to contend with the Eastern Brigands."

But after saying this, Liu Chengzong shook his head and sneered: "I'm not afraid of the Eastern Brigands breaking through the passes. But if the Great Ming shrinks into the Northern Metropolitan Region, it will blow itself apart with its own infighting."

With that, he raised a hand and said: "The Great Ming is no longer a court one can predict. Nothing too unimaginable would be surprising anymore."

Liu Chengzong's eyes had been tempered; he saw everyone as a madman now.

Even if a person seemed normal at the moment, that was only a disguise — in truth they were likely a dormant madman, or a disheartened madman.

So he could accept most of the unexpected things that happened in the world.

Yet his skill was still not fully honed; he still could not imagine what kind of unexpected situation the Great Ming might produce.

But in the end, Liu the Lion still held one correct understanding: if the Great Ming produced no surprises, it wouldn't be the Great Ming.

"Let's not concern ourselves with the Great Ming's affairs. The variables in the present world are too many, and we don't need too much foresight — doing the task at hand well is enough."

Liu Chengzong pulled the topic back, and using his scabbard he traced three lines on the map: "First, divide into three routes. The northern route swallows Ningxia and Yansui, linking up with Monan into one contiguous territory."

"The central route, between the mountains and rivers — I ask Brother Wang and Little Sixteen to first probe the way with the Three Calamities Society. Pass defenses, wealthy households, garrisoned troops, strategic points, earthen forts, entrenched bandits — I want intelligence."

"The southern route, Hanzhong and Huguang — prioritize by urgency. First take Hanzhong Prefecture. At the same time, the Rites Office contacts Li Zicheng to scout the situation; plan, then move."

"Beyond that."

He drew another circle around the Lintao and Longxi area: "The Linliang Brigade will handle the mopping-up of this eastern campaign, marching south to exterminate the remaining Ming forces."

The commander-in-chief of the Linliang Circuit was Yang Yao, a top general of the command headquarters who had come up from the Guyuan troops.

Within that circle, hidden in the mountains, were the Prefect of Gongchang, Qiao Qiangao, the Ningxia Assistant Regional Commander, Tu Shixian, and a large crowd of officials from various counties — both civil and military, enough to cobble together a small court.

And of course there were roving bandits everywhere, mainly composed of Ming deserters — men like the Ningxia Assistant Regional Commander Shen Guangxian, remnants of Zuo Liangyu and Long Zaitian's forces, a chaotic mess of every sort of brigand soldier, marauding in all directions.

All flying banners at random; even Liu Chengzong could not figure out right now who was where.

Still, those bandits were a minor matter to the Marshal's Headquarters.

"The most important thing remains the two garrisons of Ningxia and Yansui."

Liu Chengzong looked at the assembled men and said: "This campaign must be won swiftly. There will likely be another battle in Monan this year, so I intend to send out five brigades when spring begins. Brother Cao will oversee Gansu Brigade Commander Huang Shengxiao advancing from Jinglu Garrison through the Second Border Wall to strike Zhongwei and Houwei."

"Yanqing Brigade Commander Zhang Zhen will pin down the Yansui Garrison. Linliang Brigade Commander Wang Wenxiu will shift his station to Guyuan Prefecture to oversee the supply route and replenish horses."

"Two field brigades will follow me in a direct attack on Yinchuan."

Cao Yao could tell that while Liu Chengzong spoke of the Ningxia strategy, his eyes kept drifting eastward; clearly his mind was not on Ningxia or Yansui.

Mobilizing five brigades this time, the objective was not merely Ningxia and Yansui; the greater purpose seemed to be moving the army first to the Yanqing and Xi'an area, to facilitate sudden future outbreaks of war.

So he asked: "Does the Commander intend to take Ningxia and Yansui, then fight a battle with the Later Jin in Monan?"

Liu Chengzong hesitated slightly.

He did indeed have that thought.

But whether they could cross swords in Monan was not up to him.

Liu the Lion shook his head and said: "It can only be called a precaution. What do you elder brothers think is the very first thing Hong Taiji ought to do after ascending the throne and proclaiming himself emperor?"

The men looked at one another.

We are neither Hong Taiji, nor do we plan to ascend the throne and proclaim ourselves emperor — where are we supposed to figure out what Hong Taiji most ought to do?

Still, the Minister of the Rites Office had a guess: "Strike out in all four directions?"

Liu the Lion had not expected to get an answer from anyone else; hearing Zhang Xianzhong's reply, he was visibly taken aback.

A moment later, he nodded and said: "Exactly. Ascend the throne, proclaim himself emperor, and punish the disloyal."

And who were the disloyal?

The Great Ming, Joseon, the Marshal's Headquarters.

Liu Chengzong's scabbard scraped across the map: "To attack Joseon, first attack the Great Ming. To attack the Great Ming, one must first attack Yang Qi."

"That order?"

Zhang Xianzhong could not understand this, and asked in puzzlement: "Attacking Joseon, striking the Great Ming — both offer profit. Our Commander Yang is so poor he'd pawn his trousers; the Tatars gain nothing by hitting him!"

He thought to himself, Dorgon took such a huge loss in Monan this year, didn't even get a scrap of meat between his teeth, and this year he's still going to go poke that stinking dog turd Yang Qi? Isn't that just sick in the head?

"Commander, your subordinate believes the Tatars should first subjugate Joseon, then attack the Great Ming. Leaving Yang Qi alone would be the wise move."

Liu Chengzong raised a hand, smiling amiably. "You're right."

He had just said that in times like these, there was no need for overly farsighted vision.

But Minister Zhang and this stranger called "the big picture" didn't seem to fit this era very well either.

"Who he hits first depends on how great his ambition is, and on how hungry his followers are."

"If some of them already starved to death this winter and they'll have nothing to eat come spring, then they'll definitely attack Joseon directly, because Joseon's troops are weak — a sure thing."

"But if they still have food and are thinking about next winter's grain, then Joseon is the least urgent target. The peninsula isn't going to drift away on the sea; the Yi clan is right at his fingertips, they can't run."

"The key thing is, attacking Joseon holds no deterrent power — not for the Great Ming, not for me, not for the Later Jin themselves... Does that even count as real ability?"

Liu Chengzong's scabbard shifted to the Great Ming's metropolitan heartland. "Only here can you make a show of force."

Zhang Xianzhong was won over by Liu Chengzong's patient guidance. He nodded. "Then hit the Great Ming directly. Joseon can wait until autumn."

"Well said — hit the Great Ming." Liu Chengzong spread his hands. "Where do we go in?"

Zhang Xianzhong's gaze swept past the long, narrow Liaoxi Corridor. The Guan-Ning Defense Line was enough to daunt anyone.

He shook his head to himself. "Still have to break through the wall from the north."

"To enter Shanxi, you go through Shahukou or Desheng Fort. To enter the capital region, you have to go through Zhangjiakou in Xuanfu or Dushikou in Yunzhou."

Although the Great Ming's defensive line north of Beijing stretched so far, these were the only places where you could break through and get in.

Elsewhere, the walls were built atop mountain peaks — men and horses could barely climb them, and even if they forced their way up, crude methods like chiseling through the wall wouldn't work.

In many places, you'd have to blast them open just to get an army through.

Liu Chengzong nodded again, looking at Zhang Xianzhong with genuine appreciation.

You've already got all this clear in your own head — so why aren't you thinking in that direction?

Liu the Lion said, "Since they'd break through from these places, and as you said, Yang Qi is so poor he's hocked his pants — could he really resist robbing the Jin army?"

"Even if he could resist robbing them, could the Later Jin not be afraid? After all, when you're going into someone else's home to rob them, you have to be fully alert, can't afford to be distracted. Even if Yang Qi only has a single battalion, it still makes people uneasy."

"So if they're going to strike, they must strike Yang Qi first. No matter how poor Yang Qi is, his Mongol troops still have horses. As long as they capture them, they'll at least break even."

"Besides, with Dorgon's precedent of returning empty-handed from the Southern Desert, this time they'll most likely come with the posture of finishing Yang Qi off for good."

"What we need to do is take Ningxia and Yansui before Yang Qi gets hit, then wait for the right moment to move."

As Liu Chengzong said this, his eyes remained fixed on the map, on the Jining area east of Guihua City. With particular focus, he added, "If possible... fight them there?"

Yang Dingrui was terrified by this idea.

It had been a long time since Liu the Lion had shown this kind of eager, itching-for-a-fight ferocity.

He hurriedly urged, "When the Tatar troops enter the capital region, every route will send relief forces. Better to send Yang Qi a letter — if the situation looks bad, he can just withdraw into Yansui. Our forces could then march right into Shanxi. Why not take that instead?"

Having said this, as if feeling the bargaining chip still wasn't enough to sway Liu Chengzong, he continued, "The Marshal's Manor must still keep the Central Plains as its priority. This is not the time to fight the Eastern Brigands to the death beyond the frontier. Those barbarians calling themselves emperor is mere child's play. Once we've taken the realm, it won't be too late to sweep their lairs and scour their dens."

He was not being shortsighted.

The situation was already clear: Hong Taiji had proclaimed himself emperor.

To say that the Chongde Emperor was already thinking of ruling all under heaven right now would be utter nonsense.

But the moment he proclaimed himself emperor, he tore all pretense of face with the Great Ming. There was only one road left to take.

Even the biggest fool in the Marshal's Manor wouldn't ignore this rival for supremacy — let alone Yang Dingrui.

The reason he tried to dissuade him was purely because he felt Liu Chengzong was getting a bit hot-blooded.

To exhaust troops on a campaign beyond the frontier, yet without sufficient profit as the objective.

With the battlefield preset on exterior lines, the Marshal's Army would also struggle to reach the battlefield in optimal condition.

And both sides would be completely in the dark on intelligence — limited in their understanding of the enemy's troop strength, their commanders' temperaments, even their arms and tactics.

But these were merely the operational difficulties. They weren't the key reason Yang Dingrui opened his mouth to object.

The key was that with the disadvantages of this campaign so enormous, the Marshal's Manor had only one candidate capable of taking sole command and handling such a situation: Liu Chengzong.

If he won, naturally all would be well, and the Later Jin's sharp edge would be severely blunted. But what if the battle went badly? What then?

So in Yang Dingrui's view, rather than take such a risk, it would be better to conquer the realm first, then draw the Later Jin into interior lines to fight them. They couldn't possibly fight more wretchedly than the Ming army did.

To be honest, even trying to dissuade him exhausted Yang Dingrui.

Because he knew perfectly well that Liu Chengzong understood.

All these concerns of his — Liu Chengzong, who had led troops campaigning across the northwest, couldn't possibly not know them.

Yet he was still rolling up his sleeves, eager for a fight.

Yang Dingrui truly felt that in this contest where the realm itself was the chessboard, they had established their own political framework early on, leaving every other rebel army far behind.

When the Great Ming collapsed, their advantage in the Central Plains would be magnified infinitely. As long as they held steady, they would win for sure.

But how do you hold steady?

To Yang Dingrui's counsel, Liu the Lion merely shook his head, very calmly.

Slowly, but with absolute resolve.

Even Zhang Xianzhong didn't dare speak, his gaze shifting back and forth between Liu Chengzong and Yang Dingrui.

The Minister of Rites' clever brain raced, analyzing.

Analyzing Liu Chengzong's actions, Liu Chengzong's intent.

But this time, he couldn't figure it out.

Zhang Xianzhong fully agreed with Yang Dingrui's suggestion — there was no need to bother about Yang Qi. Let him shrink back inside the border wall, and come back out once the Later Jin had left.

And as for fighting the Later Jin... Zhang Xianzhong felt that for the Grand Marshal's Manor to refrain from helping the Later Jin fight the Great Ming was already the height of benevolence and duty.

Liu Chengzong was very rational — even a bit too coldly composed. He looked at everyone, spread his hands, and smiled. "When Dorgon came, our army still had Ningxia and Yansui in between, beyond our reach. So Yang Qi could simply retreat and evade."

"But come spring, we'll have cleaned up Ningxia and Yansui. We'll finally be able to meet face to face. Isn't that worth a meeting?"

Yang Dingrui's face was full of bitterness. "Is it?"

"Sir, there's no need to be anxious. What you say makes sense. But our cleanup of Ningxia and Yansui may not go smoothly, and even if it does, the Later Jin army may not truly come to strike Yang Qi."

Liu Chengzong chuckled as he rose to his feet, not inclined to argue the point.

"But if they come, I will of course send troops — besides... I can see a chance for victory."

Liu the Lion was no stickler for political correctness; if there truly was no chance and he couldn't win, he'd run faster than anyone.

Yet he truly had glimpsed an opportunity that belonged to him.

For one, after long admiring each other from afar, he could finally reach them — he had to go take a look.

For another, the difficulties of the campaign existed for both sides.

And the opportunity lay in this: if the Later Jin launched a distant expedition, their target might be Yang Qi, or it might be the Great Ming.

The one thing it absolutely could not be was aimed at him, Liu Chengzong.

The initiative was in his hands.

So in his heart, he eagerly looked forward to the scenery of the Mobei grasslands, come summer or even spring.

"We started with nothing at all, relying entirely on our skill at fighting and seizing to win these half of the realm. The Mobei Mongols are watching us from above as well."

Liu Chengzong spread his arms wide before the assembly, the dark gold-thread patterns on his left-bared shoulder robe gleaming brightly: "The Monan Protectorate is my domain. If they dare come, they deserve a beating, and we can beat them — so of course we will fight!"