Chapter 73: Li Bei Marches to War

On the night of the second day of the sixth month, Liu Chengzong did something big.

He called on Song Shouzhen from Black Dragon Mountain, Li Wanqing and Guo Zhashi from Tiger's Waist, plus six squad leaders who had never served as soldiers.

Ten men went to the barren hills on the south bank of the Yan River and dug a foxhole overlooking the river.

The pit was neither too big nor too small — just enough to cram all ten of them inside, camouflaged on the outside with dead branches and weeds.

In the latter half of the night, the group curled up in the pit and caught up on sleep.

Not until the early morning of the third day of the sixth month, when the sky was barely brightening, did the drawn-out sound of bugles from the west startle everyone awake.

Liu Chengzong, still groggy, checked the sky, then roused the others and said, "From now on, no one speak. When we see something, I'll explain it to you."

The sky gradually brightened. The sun had yet to rise, but already the distant rumble of drums was sounding.

He had not brought these men here to watch the sunrise.

He wanted the squad leaders under his command — men who had never experienced battle or served in the army — to broaden their horizons by watching the imperial court dispatch its troops.

So they would know, having set out on this path, what caliber of opponent they would face in the future.

Build up their mental fortitude — so that in advance they would not underestimate the enemy and charge in recklessly like wild boars, and in retreat they would not break and flee wailing at the slightest engagement.

As day was about to break, the pounding of galloping hooves came from the riverbank below the mountain. Faintly, a mounted contingent was dispersing — some men continued forward, others halted and took up positions.

"The first to emerge are the pond cavalry. Five riders to a pond, standard twenty-four ponds per route, screening the main army for twenty li in all directions."

Liu Chengzong had once been a pond cavalry commander and was thoroughly familiar with their operations. "All light cavalry, hard to catch. Each carries a five-colored signal lance, a saber, and a bow and arrows. They advance in relays, one li apart."

His voice was very soft. Inside the pit, the men's breathing was very heavy.

Just below the mountain, pond-report riders had already halted by the riverbank. They could even hear the snorting of the fine horses.

Soon the daylight grew stronger. A half-disc of red sun cast crimson lines across the surging sea of clouds over the rolling ridges, dividing heaven from earth.

Below the mountain, the pond-report riders sat ramrod-straight on their horses, signal lances in hand, gazing into the distance.

Pond-report cavalry was a dangerous profession, stationed at the very front line of battle.

They were the first to spot the enemy, and the enemy was the first to spot them.

But the rewards were equally substantial: as long as they detected enemy movements and relayed them effectively, they would be credited with a head-grade merit after the battle.

No one could have imagined that on a mountain just five or six li outside Yan'an Prefecture, men would dig a pit through the night for the sole purpose of watching them march out in close detail.

Liu Chengzong did not know the officials' specific plan for this campaign, but he knew both the time and the objective of the deployment.

The officials intended to exterminate the bandits in the Yanqing region. The area from Qingyang Prefecture to Yan'an Prefecture would all be their battlefield.

At present, the bandits to the west were few; the bandits to the east were many.

But Liu Chengzong still could not be certain in his own mind whether the government troops would take this route.

Not until he saw pond cavalry from the west galloping toward them, signal lances held high, did the stone in his heart finally drop.

He told his subordinates, "The pond cavalry screen twenty li, making it impossible for the enemy to know the disposition of forces. But you can still read the army's direction of march from how the pond cavalry advance.

Wherever the government troops go, the pond cavalry relay forward in that direction. When the riders behind reach the ones ahead, those ahead move further forward. The government troops are advancing east."

Liu Chengzong looked down at the crystal hourglass in his arms. Barely a quarter-hour had passed since the bugles sounded from the Yan'an Garrison main camp.

The crystal hourglass was plunder from Wangzhuang Fort. It had originally come with a chiming mechanism — when the sand fell to a certain point, a little mechanical figure would strike a small gong.

But by now Liu Chengzong had removed both the little figure and the gong, keeping the hourglass at his side purely as a timekeeping tool.

He very much wanted to get a watch, but the watches of this era could hardly meet his needs.

Since the mid-Ming, as missionaries and overseas trade had grown increasingly active, Western clocks first entered China as tribute gifts.

By the present era, domestically made Western-style clocks had become quite well crafted, and cheaper to produce than those made by Europeans. For the same price, Ming artisans could make the smallest timepieces.

But they were still quite large. The so-called "small" ones were only small enough to fit on a table.

The most advanced mechanism used an iron mainspring — not portable and noisy.

So, relatively speaking, this not-too-large hourglass suited Liu Chengzong's needs better.

"The first to leave camp will be the mounted troops, then the infantry. I estimate that once they all leave camp, they'll arrive in about a quarter-hour..."

Liu Chengzong's words stopped at his lips. Both hands gripping the edge of the pit, he gazed westward, his brow tightly furrowed.

Pond riders, one after another, galloped eastward.

Then everyone heard the sounds reaching their ears — the rhythmic tread of iron horseshoes striking the ground, and the sound of armored men running past.

"The mounted troops are here."

The first to enter their sight were over thirty household retainers and guardsmen in bright brigandine armor, arrayed in a square formation. They raised banners of every color, striding with heads high into the light of the rising sun.

Road-clearing banners, gong-and-drum banners, five-colored flying-tiger command banners, gate-sealing leopard-tail long streamers, five-direction marshal deity banners... silk-faced banners of every hue nearly obscured the infantry square behind them.

Only the official designation was absent.

Close behind came the mingled sounds of pounding footsteps, clashing weapons, and iron horseshoes.

Two unassuming, plain-colored long streamers — the left reading "By Imperial Decree, Punish the Bandits," the right reading "Former Shanhai Pass Mobile Corps Commander Li."

Beneath those banners, four elite riders escorted a general in full armor.

Behind him, two hundred mounted troops in a four-file column led their horses on foot, advancing step by step.

Every warhorse was stout and well-fed, fitted with iron face-guards and brigandine chest armor — all in half-barding.

In the outer two files, the cavalrymen wore two-panel brigandine armor, weapons at their waists as they marched forward.

In the inner two files, every man traveled light, their weapons and armor all hung on their horses' backs.

Behind the mounted column were another twenty unarmored light troops, each leading four or five warhorses and packhorses laden with pots, pans, rice, and grain, along with five three-wheeled cannon carts.

The entire detachment pressed forward in silence, quickly passing through Liu Chengzong's line of sight and heading east.

This was bad.

Liu Chengzong said, "This is a government force that gets enough to eat."

Only then did it suddenly strike him — the process by which the Tiger of Ganquan had been wiped out.

That battle had taken just two days. Mobile Corps Commander Li Bei had fought three successive engagements and pursued for one hundred sixty li.

First, Li Bei is not a Mobile Corps General — he's a dismissed military officer living in idle retirement, desperate to regain his post by exterminating rebels.

Second, if you count the march to Ganquan, Li Bei very likely covered two hundred sixty li in two days and took the head of Tiger General.

That marching speed is terrifying — enough to make Zhang Tianlin's proud boast of three hundred li in three days pale in comparison.

The squad leaders who had never seen war couldn't tell anything; they just thought this unit had bearing and discipline.

Guo Zhashi saw how grim his expression was and asked quietly, "Boss?"

Liu Chengzong finally came back to his senses, suppressed his worry for Zhang Tianlin, and said to the group, "Four columns, leading horses on foot, armored on the mountain and river flanks — that's to guard against ambushes along the road when there's no time to don armor.

They have over two hundred combat troops and over two hundred warhorses. Though the horses are all very fat, their method of fighting is roughly cavalry marching on foot, mounting up to charge when they close with the enemy.

This march didn't wait for the infantry according to normal regulations. Li Bei must intend to strike with cavalry. When forces are evenly matched, whoever tries this tactic dies."

Liu Chengzong finished speaking and paused for a moment.

Just as several squad leaders were breaking into mocking smiles, he cut them off, "But the rebel army and government forces are not evenly matched. Li Bei's tactic will work. Against the likes of us? Ha."

"Ten thousand of us wouldn't be enough for his two hundred men to slaughter."