Chapter 1191: An Old Acquaintance Who Understands the Big Picture

The shout had barely faded when several hundred riders suddenly burst out from the government army's ranks, charging straight outward — only their charge wasn't aimed at the Zhao Camp cavalry but was a headlong flight outward. The moment those several hundred riders fled, the ranks that had just been assembled collapsed completely. Some cursed furiously: "I **** Zhou Baolu's ancestors eighteen generations back!" Others wailed, "It's over, it's over." Curses or not, everyone was running.

The Zhao Camp cavalry rode in squads of fifty, ten squads to a line, leveling their long lances as they charged forward. The Zhao Camp's mounted retainers had not galloped once since morning — both men and horses were at full strength. The earlier slow trot had been a warm-up; now, as they broke into a full sprint, their momentum was truly unstoppable.

The moment a cavalry lance pierced a government soldier or a Shang Family Manor stalwart, the rider released it at once. The lance, carried by inertia, often skewered two or three more men in front. Then the retainers drew their long blades and began crashing through and slashing. The mounted men among the government troops and Shang Family Manor forces were all fleeing outward. Those without horses either ran or knelt in surrender. Hardly anyone dared stand and resist; the scattered few who did were swiftly crushed and trampled under the cavalry's charge.

With cavalry behind them crashing through and cutting them down, the men ahead shoved and jostled one another, even hacking at each other, thinking only of escape. The mounted retainers in pursuit didn't even need to swing their blades — they simply rode straight through and trampled. By the end, the twenty squads of mounted retainers had abandoned any pretense of horizontal lines or columns; each squad fought on its own. Whenever they spotted government troops or village braves clustering together, they charged at once, scattering and cutting them apart, denying the enemy any chance to regroup.

In the unit with Zhao Jin and Zhang Hubin, the retainers armed with long spears and halberds barely got a chance to close in for hand-to-hand combat. They could only watch as the musket retainers fired volleys, scattered shots, and free fire, heating the musket barrels until they glowed red, then wiping them down with wet cloths to cool before opening fire again.

"Master, the retainers have only two or three rounds of ammunition left," Zhang Hubin reported helplessly.

Zhang Hubin wasn't the only one feeling helpless — the retainers of the Guard Brigade's Second Regiment all wore much the same expression. They had thought they would fight fiercely and put on a fine show before Lord Jin. Who could have imagined it would turn into a chase like this? Zhao Jin smiled and said, "Take prisoners according to the usual rules. Show no mercy. Kill them at once at the slightest sign of trouble."

Zhang Hubin acknowledged the order loudly. The command was passed, and the Second Regiment began splitting into company-sized units, swiftly advancing to outflank the enemy, all the while shouting: "Drop your weapons! Lie flat on the ground! Surrender and you won't be killed!"

To the government troops, this unified shout was like sweet rain after a long drought. They had just been shot at from behind by muskets, the explosions incessant, watching their comrades collapse mid-run. The dead were at least free of suffering, but those who didn't die at once lay shrieking in agony, begging for help, even begging for a quick end. Such a scene was too much to bear. Some had thought of turning back to fight to the death, but at the sight of that spear formation like a solid wall, who would dare try? They turned and kept running. Now, hearing that the enemy was willing to accept surrender, they had long since been unable to run any farther. Many simply threw down their weapons and sprawled flat on the ground.

"If this continues, the spear retainers' merits will fall further and further behind the musket retainers'. More and more will want to carry muskets," Zhao Jin remarked with a smile. The guards beside him couldn't tell if he was talking to himself or to them, but those words gave one much to ponder.

"Pass the order: surrender is to be accepted everywhere. Those who resist or flee are to be killed without exception. Begin taking prisoners now!" Zhao Jin commanded. The mounted retainers beside her immediately scattered in all directions, carrying the order everywhere. Before long, cheers erupted from all around. Chaotic as the battlefield around Shang Family Manor was, everyone in the Zhao Camp knew — this time, victory was theirs.

Many looked up at the sky. At this hour, the sun was still not very high; it was a long while yet until noon. They had attacked over ten thousand government troops, an enemy entrenched in such a strong fortress, and yet from the launch of the assault to victory had taken only two or three double-hours. Many even felt that the moment the cannons had sounded, victory had already been decided.

"Lord Jin, roughly ninety percent of the bandit army's cavalry have escaped. Those without horses were all caught. Three men escaped from Shang Family Manor; all the rest have been captured!" Battle reports streamed continuously to Zhao Jin.

Hearing this report, Zhao Jin couldn't help but laugh. He waved his hand and said, "They are government troops. There's no need to pin the label of 'bandit' on them just yet — it only confuses people."

The mounted retainer who had delivered the report looked somewhat embarrassed and rode off with an awkward chuckle. He had barely left when another rider arrived, shouting before he even drew near: "Lord Jin, several hundred government cavalry have turned back! They're charging in this direction!"

"Protect Lord Jin! Form ranks and meet the enemy!" Zhao Wan of the Guard Company bellowed at once. The Guard Company's retainers immediately fell into formation while mounted retainers were dispatched to summon reinforcements. The Guard Brigade's Second Regiment, which had been tidying up the battlefield, began sprinting madly toward them. If, in the midst of such a great victory, any mishap befell Zhao Jin, the blame would be too terrible to bear.

But the tension did not last long. Another mounted retainer arrived to report: "Lord Jin, those several hundred government cavalry have all dismounted, thrown down their weapons, and are kneeling in surrender. One among them claims to be an old acquaintance, Zhou Baolu, and begs Lord Jin, for the sake of past ties, to show mercy and take them in."

Zhou Baolu — now that was indeed an old acquaintance. Though Zhao Jin had not gone to the battlefield at the west gate, he could deduce from the course of the battle that those who had fled at the very start were likely Zhou Baolu's men as well. What was this — old friends making things easier? The more Zhao Jin thought about it, the more he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He simply replied, "Detain the others as usual. Bring Zhou Baolu here."

Before long, the former Xuzhou Mobile Corps Commander Zhou Baolu was brought before Zhao Jin. His armor had been stripped off, his weapons and the like thoroughly searched and removed, his arms tightly bound. The retainers dared permit no accidents. The moment Zhou Baolu saw Zhao Jin, he dropped cleanly to his knees, kowtowed, and declared, "Long live the Heavenly King, ten thousand years, ten thousand thousand years! This insignificant one failed to recognize the great righteousness and aided the tyrant in his oppression. I am truly ashamed beyond measure. I beseech the Heavenly King, for the sake of our old acquaintance, to spare the lives of this insignificant one and his followers. In the days to come, we shall serve with utmost loyalty..."

"This 'Heavenly King' sounds inauspicious to me. Old Zhou, stand up and speak," Zhao Jin cut off Zhou Baolu's formulaic speech with a frown. The expressions of the several guard retainers behind him were also rather odd. Back in Xuzhou, there really were people calling Zhao Jin the Heavenly King, and saying things like Chen Sheng was the Northern Marquis, Dong Bingfeng the Southern Marquis, Shi Manqiang the Eastern Marquis, and Ji Xiang the Wing Marquis — the "Wing" signifying an arm or a source of support.

At the time, they had even spoken of Zhao Jin proclaiming himself emperor and the others being enfeoffed as kings — the Heavenly Emperor and the Eastern King, Southern King, Northern King, Wing King, and so forth. Zhao Jin had usually laughed off such nonsensical opera-script titles, but when these rumors reached him, he flew into a great rage. He summoned Zhao Shiyilang and gave him a harsh scolding, ordering a strict investigation. The originator turned out to be a schoolteacher from Xiao County who had fantasized about winning favor and riches by presenting honorific titles. He never imagined he would receive a flogging and be sent to a farming estate for three years of confinement.

Everyone found it strange. Absurd as those titles were, they didn't sound particularly offensive — so why had Zhao Jin flown into such a fury? Zhou Baolu, naturally, knew nothing of this matter and had blundered right into a sore spot.

With his arms bound, Zhou Baolu had to be hoisted up by others after kneeling. Though extricating himself from the chaos of the cannon bombardment, then fleeing first and surrendering later, must have been a harrowing ordeal, his complexion was far better than when he had left. Zhao Jin remembered clearly: back then, Zhou Baolu had been utterly haggard. Now, he looked as if he had recovered his vitality.

"Old Zhou, you're looking quite well!" Zhao Jin teased.

Zhou Baolu dared not respond to that. He certainly couldn't say that after leaving Xuzhou he had been eating well and sleeping soundly. He merely bowed his head with a humble, bitter smile and said, "This insignificant one failed to recognize the greater trend and has only now awakened to his error. I beg Lord Jin to take pity. In the future, this insignificant one is willing to serve at Lord Jin's stirrup and bridle. If Lord Jin finds me unworthy, I ask only to live out my remaining years in peace in Xuzhou. I beseech Lord Jin's mercy."

"You fled on your own? What about your family?" Zhao Jin asked. Zhou Baolu was now a regional commander of Vice General rank holding a Chief Military Commander's brevet. If he surrendered to Xuzhou, his family, still under Ming control, would likely suffer terribly. Zhou Baolu had always cared deeply for his wife, children, and offspring — this behavior was rather strange.

At this, a look of something like relief crossed Zhou Baolu's face. He answered with a sheepish chuckle, "I won't hide it from Lord Jin — this insignificant one's entire family arrived at Daming Prefecture half a month ago. They bought a manor outside the city to live in. Once word of what happened here reaches them, they'll come straight to Xuzhou. This insignificant one owns property both inside the prefectural city and at He Family Manor; they can move right in. Ever since my wife and children left Xuzhou, they've never stopped talking about how good it was, never stopped talking about coming back. This time, they'll have gotten their wish."

"And if you'd won this time, they'd have just gone back home, wouldn't they?" Zhao Jin teased, then added with a smile, "No wonder you never sold that courtyard house on Salt Market West Street or the one by the city academy. I thought you were keeping them for the rental income."

When Zhao Jin mentioned those two residences, Zhou Baolu's face turned deathly pale. He had thought those two private properties were well hidden; he never imagined Zhao Jin had known about them all along. Seeing his expression, Zhao Jin shook his head and said, "We're old acquaintances, and this time you saw which way the wind was blowing quickly enough. Go live quietly in Xuzhou. You have shops and businesses in several places. As long as you don't court death yourself, a comfortable retirement is assured."

At these words, Zhou Baolu's entire body went limp; he nearly collapsed to the ground and was only held up by the retainers at his sides. Recovering himself, Zhou Baolu poured out endless thanks, and as he spoke, he couldn't help but begin to weep. Zhao Jin found it irritating and waved a hand for him to be taken away.

"A large estate, a heavy household, wives, concubines, children — back in the day, he might have had some courage. Now, all that's left is the desire to save his own skin and keep safe. A man like that can't fight any kind of battle," Zhao Jin remarked offhandedly. The guards beside him all nodded.

The moment the Zhao Camp called out that surrender would spare their lives, the battlefield swiftly fell quiet. The commoners of Shang Family Manor scrambled over one another to surrender, and the government troops moved even faster. The big lords could flee on horseback or in carriages, but how could a man on his own two feet outrun the iron cavalry of Xuzhou? There was no need to speak of backbone — life mattered most. Hadn't they seen how Zhou Baolu's trusted battalion commanders had surrendered faster than anyone? If elite troops who received eighty percent of their pay and rations had surrendered, what were the rest of them holding out for?

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A recommendation for Sui Qingfeng Qu's new book, Immortal Official (first published on Qidian). Everyone's surely familiar with his works Striving in New Ming and Ming Official. This new book isn't even historical — let's all go despise him together. But I've taken a look at this new book, and it's not just history dressed in xianxia skin; it's worth looking forward to. I recommend everyone go check it out.

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