Chapter 721: Fake Battle Report

The third day after Liu Chengzong shifted his forces to the Miyun frontier.

The Yulin and Huben battalions were encamped at Kaiping Garrison, inside the old Yuan Upper Capital.

In a felt tent, Liu Shizi teased Little Baldy while the head of his guard squad, Liu Tichun, directed Zhang Yong and the other Yulin lads in sorting out maps.

With such a little creature being raised in camp, Liu Chengzong now learned that vulture chicks actually have hair when they're young.

But for some unknown reason, the heads of those adult vultures are often completely bare.

The more he played with it, the more he felt that this expedition of his was a lot like this little fellow.

A vulture's habit is to watch others hunt, and once they succeed, it drives the hunter away, stretches out its great wings, and goes hopping and bouncing over to eat.

What he intended to do this time was exactly the same.

The maps sent back from the front were all small ones, some of them even drawn by the various tribes of Monan, all of different sizes and formats.

So the Yulin lads had to pin them onto wooden boards with arrowheads to piece them together, and then the Huben Battalion's painter, Monk Xue, would redraw them to make a proper map.

For the past three days, Liu Shizi had been busy assigning defensive sectors to the various camps under his command, and so far he had only finished half the work — the other half couldn't be done yet.

The troops that had shifted with him were manageable enough: the Yulin, Huben, and Zongren battalions were stationed inside and outside the Upper Capital.

Gao Yingdeng's First Brigade, with the Upper Capital as its northernmost point, was spread out southward in separate encampments.

Furthest south was the First Brigade's Mobile Corps guerrilla commander Zuo Guangxian, leading his troops to garrison at Hushiha, two hundred and fifty li beyond the frontier, a spot convenient for exchanging intelligence with the Ming army while also catching Jin army scouts and messengers near the border wall.

The name of that place was set during the Yuan dynasty and means "black chestnuts" — it does indeed produce chestnuts. The patrol riders reported that the hills there are covered in chestnut trees, but it's not the season yet, so no chance to feast on them.

But the troops of the Monan Protectorate were a different matter — they were hard to track down.

Nearly thirty thousand troops were scattered mainly from Rehe beyond the Zunhua frontier in the south, up to Khishigten five hundred li to the north, occupying the area west of the Greater Khingan Range.

And among all these people, the only ones Liu Chengzong could reach were the ten thousand-plus troops besieging the Bordered Blue Banner under He Huchen's command.

The rest were either running wild in the mountains or tearing around the grasslands.

From He Huchen to Liu Chengzong, they could only know a rough location — no way to make contact, no way to find them, they just had to wait for those men to send word back to the rear on their own.

For example, just yesterday, Tangjisi, the Myriarch of the Monan Sunid Myriarchy, sent a man back with a verbal message.

He had led four hundred of his tribesmen all the way to the south bank of the Kherlen River, close to the Khogchid tribe that was attached to Sechen Khan Sholoi, and was busy extolling the Grand Marshal's virtues to their chieftain Bolod.

Earlier today, Shakeza, a Chiliarch and younger cousin of the Ordos Myriarch Erinchen, came running back to the main army.

This Shakeza was a reckless fool with guts.

With just two hundred herding riders, he had cut straight across the Greater Khingan Range and entered Khorchin tribal grazing lands to draw maps.

He nearly got troops sent after him and captured — it was pure luck that he escaped and came back with a pile of scribbles that only he himself could decipher.

The reason they were all running wild through eastern Monan was that the offensive He Huchen had launched against the Bordered Blue Banner near Rehe had bogged down into a stalemate.

At first it had gone smoothly, with them fleeing and him chasing — He Huchen had even thought for a time that he would drive them straight into the Later Jin heartland on the eastern slopes of the Khingan Range.

But then, for some unknown reason, Feiyanggu of the Bordered Blue Banner suddenly stopped running when he reached Rehe, turned around and struck back, making He Huchen mistakenly think that Later Jin reinforcements had arrived, so he hastily reined in his troops and set up a defensive line.

Then that very night, Feiyanggu scorched the earth and set the mountains ablaze.

The fire gave He Huchen a terrible fright, but the next day a northwest wind sprang up — the west side was fine, but the wind drove the flames up into the treetops, even leaping across the Wulie River, and it burned eastward for several dozen li.

Even now, the great fire has been burning for over ten days. The hundred-plus li of forest between the Yixun River and the Laoniu River is still a sea of flames, and by the look of it, it'll keep burning for another month or so.

Right now, that place isn't Rehe — it's a seething, boiling river.

The biggest problem the wildfire brought was that the entire region can no longer provide fodder or provisions for the army, so the Monan cavalry can only run north in scattered bands, emerging from the mountains to search for places where they can graze their horses.

As for where the Bordered Blue Banner fled to in the east — it wasn't until the day before Liu Chengzong shifted his forces that He Huchen's men, circling around from beyond the Zunhua frontier, discovered that the banner had withdrawn over a hundred li eastward and was now digging trenches and building ramparts at the old site of Huizhou Garrison in a Khingan pass, looking intent on holding their ground.

No analysis needed — one look at that posture and you knew they were waiting for reinforcements.

And as for Liu Chengzong... he was already thinking of enfeoffing Feiyanggu as a marquis.

His act of setting the mountains on fire seemed less like an enemy's doing and more like that of a Later Jin mole.

First, with this great fire burning here, even if Ajige inside the passes plundered the capital and then burst out through the eastern Miyun and Zunhua breaches, what awaited him would be a sea of flames and ruins.

Second, the Later Jin's westward advance from Shenyang originally had two routes: the northern route through the pass held by the Khishigten tribe, and the southern route through this Rehe mountain path.

Now the mountain path was blocked.

Even if Hong Taiji wanted to send reinforcements, it would be very difficult to get past Liu Chengzong to support and receive Ajige.

This actually provided the Marshal's Army under Liu Chengzong with an excellent window of opportunity to familiarize themselves with the terrain around the Khingan Range, while also further clearing the rear supply routes and the relay stations and post stations along the way, and transferring provisions, armor, and weapons in preparation for the coming operations.

On the fourth day, Zuo Guangxian, garrisoned at Hushiha, sent a man back to report: his mobile corps had ambushed and killed three Later Jin riders beyond the frontier and intercepted a secret dispatch.

The secret dispatch was delivered to the main army and translated. Its main content was Ajige explaining to Hong Taiji why he had not delivered his spoils on schedule, and reporting the results achieved by the twenty-one banners that had entered the passes in Xuanfu and Yanqing.

The banners were not referred to by their colors, only by the names of their gūsa ejen. Since entering the passes, the haul had been plentiful — over twenty thousand captured in total, including people, horses, cattle, donkeys, mules, and sheep.

As for gold, silver, and valuables, Ajige's secret dispatch did not mention them, but Liu Chengzong guessed that the amount would not be small either.

It was just obvious that the Later Jin state valued people and livestock more, which was why they listed these as the most important spoils.

A single secret dispatch contained a great deal of important information — for instance, the names of each banner's gūsa ejen, their respective hauls, and their battle records, which, with some analysis, could roughly reveal the relative strength of each banner.

It was just that the Marshal's Office currently lacked sufficient intelligence and still had no way to link each banner to its gūsa ejen.

After reading the letter, Liu Chengzong casually handed it to Zhang Xianzhong and the others in the main army to pass around and read.

He even had someone specially summon Zuo Liangyu.

This "Grand Commander Zuo" was quite a character.

His current official post was Librarian of the Marshal's Office Chancellery.

The "Zhan" in Zhanshiyuan originally meant "trivial"; combined with "affairs," it took on the meaning of attending to duties or managing tasks — essentially, it was the office that handled miscellaneous work for the imperial household.

At its earliest, it managed the sundry affairs of the empress, the crown prince, and the palace eunuchs. As for the Librarian, its earliest title was "Forerunner," an attendant official who accompanied the crown prince when he went out.

In the Jin dynasty, it was changed to managing books and records; by the Tang dynasty, it was responsible for the editing, cataloging, and storage of the Four Treasuries — classics, histories, masters, and collections — in the Eastern Palace.

By the Ming dynasty, lectures for the Eastern Palace were handled by other officials, and the post of Librarian had become a transitional stepping stone for Hanlin Academy officials.

This was also the source of the rumor among the Huben Battalion officers that Zuo Liangyu was about to enter the cabinet.

But Zuo Liangyu declared that this was pure fucking bullshit!

This official post of his was simply something Liu Chengzong tossed together on the spot because he didn't know where else to stick him for the time being.

The Marshal's headquarters had no Eastern Palace crown prince, no Household Administration for the Heir Apparent, no Hanlin Academy, no Four Treasuries of classics, histories, masters, and collections, and no Grand Secretariat.

Ever since he got this post, all he did every day was the work of a stable hand — literally washing horses — spending all day in the main camp washing sweat off Green Lion and White Elephant.

But this was actually a misunderstanding.

Zuo Liangyu was very important in Liu Chengzong's mind — at least until the Marshal's army had fully absorbed the two veteran battalions of Xu Yong and Wang Yuncheng, his importance was no less than Zhang Xianzhong's.

Yet he couldn't just give him a post with real authority when he'd achieved no merit, and the key issue was that their current campaign was too close to the capital — if he really gave Zuo Liangyu a high official post and left him idle, what if he defected to the enemy?

For instance, a post like Zhang Xianzhong's — if the Minister of Rites defected to the enemy, how humiliating would that be if word got out?

So he had to win him over, but couldn't stuff him too full all at once.

Liu Chengzong brought out this post thinking: there isn't even a crown prince yet, and you're already serving in the Heir Apparent's household — doesn't that make you a solid old retainer of the Eastern Palace?

At the same time, he also told people not to restrict Zuo Liangyu — as long as he didn't run, he could do whatever he pleased.

So when Zuo Liangyu heard his post was Horse Washer and tried to get close to Liu Chengzong's mounts, Zhang Yong, who stood by wielding a blade, did not stop him, only reporting the matter up to Liu Chengzong.

Liu Chengzong assumed Zuo Liangyu had taken a liking to his horses, so he didn't stop him either.

He thought to himself: the man's a surrendered general — if he's stopped the moment he gets near my horse, it'd be a real blow to his pride, as if we were guarding against him running off.

Anyway, he had nowhere to run to, so if he wanted to look, let him look — look all he wanted.

Liu the Lion even felt rather smug, thinking his horses had utterly captivated Zuo Liangyu.

Liking horses was easy to handle — when Chuhuer came back for New Year's at year's end, he'd wheedle a couple of fine horses out of him to give to Zuo Liangyu.

Later, when they entered the Ordos, he simply stopped riding those two horses altogether and let Zuo Liangyu enjoy them.

Because subconsciously he figured that Zuo Liangyu had served as wine steward hosting banquets under Hou Xun and knew plenty of officials, so he wouldn't think a Horse Washer was just a stable hand.

The thought never even crossed his mind.

Besides, even if he didn't understand it himself, he could ask others — Zhang Xianzhong had asked Liu Chengzong just what this Horse Washer was supposed to do.

But he overlooked the fact that while Old Zhang and Old Zuo were both uneducated, Zhang Xianzhong was genuinely unworldly. Ever since submitting to Liu Chengzong, his horizons had broadened enormously, and at heart he felt that making a fool of himself was perfectly normal.

So asking Liu Chengzong questions didn't make him feel more foolish — it was a way to keep himself from being foolish in the future.

Only those with a bit of worldly experience, who felt they normally didn't make fools of themselves, would feel embarrassed asking others questions.

Zuo Liangyu, under Hou Xun's patronage, happened to be at exactly that stage.

Back then he had actually seen a Horse Washer from the Heir Apparent's household, but he'd been too embarrassed to ask what the post meant.

Precisely because he'd seen one, he genuinely believed it was someone who washed horses for the Eastern Palace crown prince.

When he approached Green Lion and White Elephant, Liu Chengzong's Feathered Forest Guards neither drew blades to cut him down nor paid him any mind — which only made Zuo Liangyu feel all the more that this was his job.

So every day, under the pretext of scraping sweat off Green Lion and White Elephant, he secretly ate their roasted beans and muttered softly to them, badmouthing Liu Chengzong.

"Fine horses like you he won't ride, a fine general like me he won't use — the three of us, brothers in misfortune, are stuck together now!"

Green Lion snorted, bared his teeth, and stretched his legs, enjoying the sweat-scraping. White Elephant beside him ignored him completely — she was a mare; who was going to be sworn brothers with him?

Shortly after, he was summoned into the command tent by the Feathered Forest Guards.

The moment he entered, Zhang Xianzhong handed him a secret report from the Jin state, and then he heard Liu Chengzong say: "The most interesting thing here is that Ajige lied — he exaggerated the results against Li Guoliang's forces at Xuanfu."

They knew this through Fu Renxi.

Li Guoliang's battle report stated he led two thousand troops in pursuit of the Jin army, achieved victory, took several heads, and recaptured one hundred and thirty head of livestock.

Fu Renxi's understanding of this battle was that Li Guoliang hadn't told the full story — in truth, he had disguised defeat as victory.

Ajige had set a trap and ambushed him, using cavalry to split his forces in two. Even the brigade commander under the Chief Regional Commander was gravely wounded and later died. Over two hundred men were lost, and it was only through the death-defying combat of his household retainers that the enemy was driven off and a bit of livestock recovered.

But in Ajige's secret report to Hong Taiji, he claimed he encountered Chief Regional Commander Li of Xuanfu with five thousand troops, defeated them, killed four hundred and twenty-six, and captured one hundred horses.

The fact was, neither side's battle report could be trusted.

In truth, even this conclusion only came after Liu Chengzong's Tiger Guard officers had studied the reports for ages and genuinely found nothing in them meant to mislead them — only then did they accept that these were the actual reports.

At first, they suspected the messenger had deliberately let himself be captured, that the enemy was playing some stratagem.

Liu the Lion smiled and said: "In that case, is the captured dispatch rider still alive?"

Liu Tichun stepped forward and said: "Commander, the man was beyond saving the moment we caught him — a three-eyed blunderbuss had blasted his face full of iron pellets."

Liu Chengzong nodded: "Capture another. Take one alive."

Having said this, he looked at Zhang Xianzhong and said: "Draft a document. Take their letter, unchanged, and write another one alongside it: Xuanzhen's Li Guoliang had only two thousand troops, lost two hundred killed, and recaptured just thirteen horses and one hundred and thirty head of cattle and mules."

"Once we've captured a live one, deliver both to Hong Taiji. Let him know this younger brother of his isn't honest — spouts nothing but lies."

Zhang Xianzhong's eyes lit up: "Yes, your subordinate will go write the letter at once!"

The Grand Marshal was up to his tricks again.

What was this called? The stratagem of sowing discord!

Liu Chengzong's expression, however, was not so relaxed.

Because he didn't understand — he couldn't figure out why Ajige had lied.

Li Guoliang disguising defeat as victory in his battle report was out of fear of punishment.

Ajige was different. His mission wasn't to enter the Xuan border and defeat the Ming army — it was to plunder people, livestock, and goods. As for victory or defeat in battle, it was of no consequence to him.

So why lie?

Liu Chengzong reckoned this was a Later Jin tactic in propaganda warfare.

Ajige must have considered that this letter might be intercepted by the Ming army or the Marshal's headquarters.

So he systematically falsified battle reports, intelligence, and the like — the benefits were obvious.

The Later Jin Eight Banners had few men to begin with; if such news reached Shenyang, it would boost their own troops' confidence. If intercepted en route, it could undermine enemy morale while also driving a wedge between Chief Regional Commander Li and the imperial court.

Adding to the internal friction of the Ming's rigid political machine.

This was the fascinating thing about the Great Ming — rotten, truly rotten. Phenomena like killing civilians to claim merit and disguising defeat as victory did exist.

But everyone was also genuinely working very hard at their jobs.

Military officers have the flaw of disguising defeat as victory, and some will even kill civilians to claim credit — but when they actually see the enemy, they throw themselves straight into the fight.

And after the fighting is over, there will be civil officials behind them working very hard to track down the truth of the matter — otherwise, how would anyone know they killed civilians to claim credit?

Every matter will have dedicated personnel come to investigate it until it is crystal clear.

You risk your life, but you can't win; you do the work, but it's meaningless.

Liu Chengzong writing this in a letter to tell Hong Taiji is simply telling him: I already know all your tricks.

Using this to add a bit of psychological pressure on the opponent.

The main thing is that this task is simple — anyway, his patrol reports also require capturing scouts beyond the border, so fabricate a letter, catch a scout, and have him take it back.

If it's not systematic forgery, then it's snitching, sowing discord between Ajige and Hong Taiji; if it is systematic forgery, then it's messing with Hong Taiji's state of mind.

In short, he loses nothing.

Only, the scout to deliver this letter for him had not yet been caught when He Huchen, who was rotating defenses toward the Keshiketeng Tribe, sent four urgent letters.

He Huchen intercepted private letters from the Later Jin side — Fiyanggū to Yang Qi, Eringchin, and Ombu. The one to Yang Qi was a torrent of abuse.

And to Eringchin and Ombu — to the former, it vaguely mentioned an alliance treaty; to the latter, it thanked him for leaving a loophole, assisting in arson, and allowing the Bordered Blue Banner to withdraw east.

The last letter was He Huchen requesting instructions on whether to withdraw the Southern Desert Mongol troops and move the rear army forward.

Liu Chengzong clutched the urgent letters and paced out of the tent. In the open ground outside, he pondered briefly, gazed toward the majestic Greater Khingan Mountains rising in the east, raised his hand to release the vulture into flight, and said, "Do not withdraw."

"Relay to Marshal He: the four Southern Desert main garrison camps are to withdraw a hundred li from the Keshiketeng mountain pass, establish camp and prepare for battle. Use the twenty-three thousand cavalry households to probe deep toward the pass — ascertain the enemy situation but do not rush into battle. Send military intelligence back urgently."

When he turned back, Zhang Xianzhong, who had followed him out of the tent, only saw him grinning, but his slightly widened eyes held no mirth — instead, they carried a hint of madness.

Then he saw Liu Chengzong slap He Huchen's urgent letter into his own hand.

Zhang Xianzhong stared blankly at the letter now in his hand, exchanging bewildered glances with Liu Tichun, Zuo Liangyu, and the others.

Then they heard Liu Chengzong stuff a handful of parched grain into his mouth, chewing in large bites, his words muffled and unclear.

"The emperor of the Daiching has come!"