Chapter 749: Advancing on the Chongzhen Emperor

The seventh day of the sixth month, night.

The meadow on the eastern bank of the Old Ha River.

Not far beyond the river lay the desert. These past few days, the wind beyond the frontier had been blowing, yellow sands blotting out the sky, so thick you could barely open your eyes.

Ajige's vanguard were the last to lay eyes on Liu Chengzong, back when his troops were bridging the Old Ha River.

Truth be told, this river needed no bridge — at its narrowest it was only eleven or twelve paces wide, and not very deep; you could ford it on horseback, at most letting the horses swim a couple of strokes.

But Liu Chengzong had the Kinsmen Camp build a bridge anyway.

Because the moment to turn and fight was drawing near.

Ever since crossing the frontier in late May, he had kept mounted scouts trailing behind him the whole way, making Hong Taiji chase him for several hundred li, repeatedly wheeling as if to give battle only to pull back and flee west again — all to stamp a conviction deep into Hong Taiji's mind: that he was retreating toward the Xing'an Range.

Yet Liu Chengzong had never intended to retreat at all.

He had always wanted a head-on fight with Hong Taiji, firmly convinced in his heart that only by fighting this battle could he withdraw at his leisure.

Inside the frontier he had not dared to fight; the priority then was getting out. Without crossing out, he could easily be kicked around by the Eight Banners troops being mobilized from all directions, and no matter how confident he was in his army, he could not possibly fight successive armies for days on end.

Besides, hauling plundered livestock and valuables was a cumbersome hindrance.

Once beyond the frontier, he had been looking for an opportunity ever since.

Qian Shisheng kept urging him.

This was the Ministry of Rites Minister of the Great Ming court; just seeing Liu Chengzong plunder Shengjing and withdraw unscathed had already fulfilled all his expectations.

Along the way, Qian Shisheng chanted like a sutra: before they crossed the frontier, he urged him to hurry up and cross; once they had crossed, he urged him to hurry back to Monan.

In short: grab and run, quit while you're ahead, and absolutely do not flip the cart at a time like this.

It was also largely because, nearing the desert of the Ongniud tribe, Qian Shisheng could see that the Marshal's army mostly used firelocks, and he worried that if a fight broke out and the wind picked up, the firelocks would fail them and they'd suffer for it.

Still, Qian Shisheng was also baffled by the matter — from top to bottom in the Marshal's army, aside from Gao Yingdeng bringing up with Tang Tong that windblown sand would render firelocks useless, no one else seemed worried about the sand at all.

In truth, even Gao Yingdeng and Tang Tong were not all that worried about the windblown sand.

Because the Marshal's army's officers generally believed that windblown sand was their friend — the Western Army was an army born from the sands.

There was an element of bravado in the officers thinking this way.

But Liu Chengzong, even setting bravado aside, also believed the windblown sand could give him an edge.

Because the Eight Banners were equipped with more firearms than he was.

This intelligence ran counter to intuition.

These days, the mounted scouts circling the enemy's periphery to reconnoiter had been observing enemy conditions; at dusk they counted the enemy's tents, at night they probed the enemy campfires, and they reported that the army tailing them was growing larger by the day.

Hong Taiji was drawing large numbers of rear-area troops out beyond the frontier.

Among those reinforcing units, the mounted scouts spotted large quantities of standard Ming-pattern firearms, with an astonishingly high rate of equipment.

Take the Roaring Pearl Cannon alone: a fifty-man Ming cavalry company would be equipped with one; yet among the Eight Banners reinforcements, the mounted scouts had discovered a twenty-five-rider squad equipped with one Roaring Pearl Cannon and eight bird guns.

So much so that when the mounted scouts raised their telescopes toward the Eight Banners' main camp, they would have a dazed sense of looking into a mirror.

Three-eye guns, bird guns, hawk guns, and Great Wind-Chaser guns; Roaring Pearl and Crouching Tiger cannons, Frankish breech-loading swivel guns, red-barbarian cannons, and a profusion of light artillery mounted on war carts... firearms beyond all imagining — it was practically the Great Ming's Liaodong Army, a staggering gunpowder-empire legion.

Yet the appearance of this massive firearms force on the battlefield did not weigh on Liu Chengzong in the slightest; instead, it steeled his resolve to turn and fight.

Because, in a sense, when the Later Jin's Eight Banners nobles called him Liu the Barbarian, their values were not wrong.

To this day, he still firmly believed that the fiercest, most battle-hardened soldier must be, like him, a horse archer clad in heavy armor.

Because archery demands enormous training time; a man of great strength and good nutrition might not be able to draw a hundred-catty heavy bow, but a man who can draw a hundred-catty heavy bow is certain to be of great strength and good health.

No commander would ever make a soldier like him carry a firelock.

Therefore, for an army that often presents itself as a large force of armored cavalry, suddenly and indiscriminately adding large quantities of firearms while reducing the proportion of armored soldiers is a clear sign of declining troop quality.

Just like the Marshal's army: though its firearms units were numerous, they came from only two sources — either former Ming army gunners, or veterans from the Lion Camp days who could not draw a heavy bow.

Liu Chengzong believed this was a signal that Hong Taiji was pulling Eight Banners garrison troops to the front line.

The eighth day of the sixth month.

The Marshal's army methodically crossed the Old Ha River; the large ox-cart convoy hauling valuables and escorting the baggage train entered the desert that evening.

The mounted scouts remained on the eastern bank of the Old Ha River, hanging just ahead of the Eight Banners troops. That night the scouts crossed the river and reported to Liu Chengzong at the desert's edge: at dusk they had counted the enemy camp and confirmed it had been reinforced by another five hundred-odd tents.

The enemy troops massed at the front now exceeded fifty thousand.

As for how many more troops lay to the rear, the mounted scouts could not break through the vanguard camp's screen and had no way of knowing.

Under these circumstances, Liu Chengzong entered the desert of the Ongniud tribe.

The chance to turn and fight had come.

The desert's windblown sands would erase the hoofprints and wagon ruts of the army's movements.

The baggage train escorting the valuables continued advancing westward toward Pine Desert Prefecture along its set route.

Liu the Lion severed his own link with the mounted scouts, letting He Huchen's Shuofang Camp and the battlefield-screening scouts continue leading the trailing Eight Banners troops westward.

Meanwhile, the main army, the First Brigade, the Liaoyang and Yanmen Camps, and the Mobei cavalry — a main-force corps of over thirty-six thousand men — turned north into the windblown sand.

His plan was to leverage a head start of over a hundred li, use the sandstorm and desert as cover, roll up their armor and march at speed, swing around to the flank and rear of the Eight Banners corps, bypass their lead elements, and launch a decisive battle from the rear where vigilance and reconnaissance were lax, throwing their entire deployment into chaos.

Liu Chengzong's calculations were excellent.

The Eight Banners troops, being in pursuit, had reinforcements continuously arriving at the front from the rear, making thorough reconnaissance of their own rear extremely difficult.

And launching an attack from the rear would also be the quickest way to cut off their line of retreat, throwing the enemy's morale into utter disarray.

The Marshal's army's size fell right within the troop range Liu Chengzong was most adept at commanding; counting the Mobei cavalry, eleven camps large and small, under his direction as effortless as moving his own arm, dispersed into battalion-level units and swiftly outflanked.

The morning of the eleventh day of the sixth month, a gale was blowing.

Liu Chengzong's eleven camps, after a day of dispersed maneuvering covering eighty to a hundred and twenty li, had lost three camps in the yellow-sand sky.

Namely the Kinsmen Camp, the Liaoyang Camp, and the seven-thousand-strong Mobei Camp.

The reasons all three camps got lost were quite straightforward.

Among them, the Mobei Camp was not entirely lost; though they were called the Three Khans of Mobei, in reality their cavalry could not operate in the desert and Gobi that made up most of their territory, so their familiarity with heavy sandstorms was far inferior to that of Liu Chengzong's Northwestern Army.

They advanced through the yellow sands and ran themselves into collapse; only half a battalion could keep up with Liu Chengzong's corps. The Mobei nobles, led by Subadi, were frantically searching for soldiers on the north bank of the river.

The Zongren Battalion was much the same — poor troop quality, but their morale looked the highest, with many banners, the whole battalion resembling Liu Chengzong's honor guard. Almost every company had a Prince of the Commandery banner and a State-Supporting banner; they looked the part.

It was just that the troop quality was poor. Wedged among the main-force corps and marching in a straight line, they could veer off course by over a dozen li on their own.

The Liaoyang Battalion was the exact opposite: high soldier quality, low morale. Their saving grace was that the officers, led by Mobile Corps Commander Sun Long, saw the Grand Marshal's generosity and remained fairly loyal. On the way, they also foiled a mutiny attempt by a group of surrendered troops, killed several ringleaders, and the suppression troops escorted the cannons forward. Their march was slow, falling behind the Zongren Battalion.

They followed the Zongren Battalion's marching route with extreme precision, and so they got lost together.

Liu Chengzong searched for nearly a shichen. Subadi rallied his troops, and the Feathered Forest Cavalry also found and called back the Zongren and Liaoyang Battalions, which had veered off course and kept trudging eastward.

The flanking maneuver succeeded without mishap.

During this time, Liu Chengzong hadn't only been looking for them — those two battalions weren't main-force combat battalions anyway. His main energy was spent scouting the enemy situation across the river.

Based on the Eight Banners army's earlier advance, Liu Chengzong believed that once they crossed the river, they should have flanked around to the rear of the Eight Banners' main force.

And at this moment, the Eight Banners' position should have just shifted to the grassy marshland where he had previously stationed his troops.

In the most favorable scenario, he might be able to catch up while the enemy was crossing the river and deliver a fatal blow to Hong Taiji.

That morning.

Subadi's Mobei cavalry were the first to grip the manes and leap into the saddle, fording the Laoha River.

After that, the ten battalions followed in a broad horizontal formation and regrouped briefly on the north bank of the Laoha River.

The Mobei cavalry searched southwest for the Eight Banners' main force, while Shaktu Taiji's Yanmen cavalry searched southeast for the Eight Banners' rear-support troops.

However, what caught Liu Chengzong off guard was that the cavalry Subadi had sent southwest to search for the enemy main force quickly returned and reported no sign of the enemy.

They climbed the low sandy ridges and slopes to scan the distance, but within several dozen li in every direction, they saw no sign of the enemy, nor any trace of enemy movement.

To be precise, there was only one set of tracks — those left earlier by the Marshal's army passing through.

Immediately after, the Yanmen cavalry from Shaktu Taiji's camp came rushing back to the central army in panic. Liu Chengzong soon received a report from the Khan's Court Jaisang, Gao Letu: "Grand Marshal, Shaktu Taiji reports back: enemy traces found. The eastern caitiffs are to the south, due south, over thirty li away — a single-file long snake!"

In an instant, the central army officers looked at one another, and a buzzing chaos erupted.

Qian Shisheng, on horseback, was flustered and urged his horse forward two steps to ask, "Grand Marshal, has the flanking maneuver been discovered?"

Zhang Xianzhong, beside him, irritably reined his horse in circles and said, "Grand Marshal, why not cross back over the river and set up defenses on the north bank?"

"What's the panic!"

Liu Chengzong was also a bit panicked, but he could fake it.

He pressed down on the saddle and looked south. Everything in the distance was indistinct amid the endless yellow sand. "Discovered or not, they're thirty li away — can they fly over here?"

"Send orders to all battalions: men in full kit, horses in half-armor, guns and cannons loaded... Have the Yanmen Battalion scout again."

Liu the Lion muttered inwardly: Did he really figure it out so cleverly? Or is he also trying to flank and hit me?

He had considered being discovered by the enemy during the flanking march, but he truly hadn't expected that after crossing the river, Hong Taiji would be arrayed here waiting for him.

Such a situation made him seriously consider the possibility of fighting Daiching's fifty to sixty thousand men here with over thirty thousand troops.

But once he considered it, he stopped panicking.

Panic comes from the agitation of encountering the unexpected.

When he calmed down again, the panicked feeling of his plan being seen through gradually faded, and the situation began to look rather interesting.

Hadn't he just heard Gao Letu mention a term: single-file long-snake formation?

This defied common sense.

Marching in column was not a problem — all armies march in column formation. In fact, the Ming army and the Marshal's army were even more experienced at column marching.

Because inside the passes there were well-maintained official roads; if you didn't march in column, you'd be trampling crops and threading through woods. In areas with good road networks, column was fastest.

But now they were in a desert gobi, and the Eight Banners army was in a pursuit position. Even if they marched in column, it should have been multiple columns advancing in parallel.

Multiple columns advancing in parallel certainly shouldn't look like a long snake — at least not a single-file long snake.

And for an assault formation, deploying a large column was even more out of the question.

There would be no combat width, making it impossible to leverage numerical superiority.

This reasoning put his mind even more at ease.

"The Eight Banners army is definitely up to something here, but it's not necessarily because they figured out I'd be here."

Liu Chengzong shook his head and said to Zhang Xianzhong, "I don't think we can withdraw to the north of the river. Whether the enemy figured it out, scouted it, or prisoners leaked the military intelligence, with thirty li of distance between us, our army can close in on the enemy in a proper camp formation. There's no disadvantage here."

War is full of surprises. Being able to engage in a normal state with no disadvantage is already a rare and hard-to-come-by opportunity.

As for withdrawing north of the river, that would mean giving up this opportunity.

Both armies were notably characterized by strong mobility. The next time they clashed, Liu Chengzong couldn't be sure he'd get another chance like this.

What if the Eight Banners went without food or sleep and came to raid him?

Better to fight now!

Hearing Liu Chengzong's resolve to fight, Grand Secretary Qian's very molars trembled.

He had never seen anyone decide on war so lightly — without any meticulous preparation, about to plunge into a great battle with troop numbers likely approaching a hundred thousand, and against the Daiching Eight Banners, long renowned in field combat.

Qian Shisheng urged in a low, anxious voice, "Grand Marshal, their forces are double ours!"

At these words, Liu Chengzong suddenly laughed. "Doubled forces are exactly what makes them good to fight. A perfect chance to test Emperor Chongde's skill at commanding armies!"

Qian Shisheng thought Liu Chengzong was a bit arrogant — over thirty thousand against fifty to sixty thousand, and he looked as if victory was certain.

But in truth, Liu the Lion had no certainty of victory. He figured he had a twenty percent chance of winning, while the chance of losing was forty percent.

The other forty percent was a draw.

He just felt that even if they lost, the Marshal's army wouldn't lose too disgracefully, and it would be hard for the Eight Banners army to reap any fruits of victory.

Hong Taiji had brought so many guns and cannons. If it really turned into a fast-paced pursuit and mobile battle, those guns and cannons wouldn't do a damn thing in a chase.

On the other hand, even if he lost here, the cattle, sheep, horses, and goods could all be transported into Monan.

At worst, he'd trade pieces — twenty thousand of theirs for ten thousand of his. The remaining ten-thousand-odd men holding Songmo Prefecture would be no problem at all.

Forty thousand troops couldn't endure a standoff in Songmo Prefecture, but ten thousand troops in a standoff there would actually have no supply pressure.

Once the Eight Banners withdraw and he leads his broken troops back to Shaanxi, every household of the living and the dead gets an ox and two taels of silver. The Qin land has no shortage of bold men who don't fear death — come back next year, and we'll see who's afraid on the battlefield!

Being able to escape even after a defeat — that is the foundation of Liu Chengzong's daring to fight.

The ten-battalion army advanced southward for several li. Travel-worn Sechen Taiji whipped his horse back, his face covered in dust but bearing a look of immense delight. "Grand Marshal, it's confirmed — they aren't a long-snake formation marching north. It's a One-Two formation in three columns and eight files, a horizontal line marching west!"

"Marching west? Hahaha!"

Liu Chengzong could not help but be overjoyed.

That meant, though he still did not know why the Eight Banners' march had suddenly slowed by a day's distance, his flanking plan had not been detected by the enemy. The Eight Banners army was still chasing his scout cavalry westward.

Only, he had not flanked to the enemy's rear, but to their right wing. Both sides were advancing in horizontal formations, forming a 'T' shape on the battlefield.

"Order all battalions — we also form the One-Two formation. Smash them battalion by battalion from north to south, and advance on the Chongde Emperor!"

?? Good morning!

(End of chapter)