Chapter 1253: The Sleepless Night Before Battle

Zhang Jixian merely sighed, then said in a muffled voice, "Your Excellency Wang need not be so disheartened. Our army numbers nearly a hundred thousand, and we have Tianjin and Ji Garrison at our backs. The Xuzhou bandits are a lone force deep in enemy territory, their numbers less than a third of ours. The odds of victory favor us. Perhaps tonight will bring a result."

"Let us hope so!" Supreme Commander Wang Zaijin remained far from optimistic.

The raiding party organized by the government troops would certainly not set out from the south gate, for that was the front of the Zhao Family Army's encampment — brightly lit and heavily guarded. The government side was the same; any movement of troops would be easily detected. They purposely exited the city from the north gate, then made a huge detour to approach the Zhao Family Army's camp from the outer perimeter.

Xuanfu's Commander Xiong gripped a pudao, and the men behind him all carried axes, short spears, and some bore kindling on their backs. Except for Commander Xiong, every man clenched a wooden stick between his teeth and had two thick layers of cloth bound around his shoes — all to make no sound. As for Commander Yu, he took a different direction.

Though the army's supreme commander and chief general were extremely cautious, Commander Xiong's thoughts were much the same as those critics on the city wall: these Xuzhou bandits were all show — outwardly disciplined, but in truth knowing nothing. They had labored mightily to build this encampment, which looked tight yet was riddled with flaws. The side facing the city was heavily defended, but the side toward the canal had little vigilance, and the rear-left area was also very lax — that must be where the laborers, carts, and horses rested and regrouped.

Wasn't this a joke? Did they expect the enemy to attack in coordination with their camp layout? Setting up camp required covering every angle. Naturally, the critical points must be defended with care, but if the enemy broke through an unimportant spot and charged in, that too would be a fatal disaster!

Commander Xiong's unit made a sufficiently wide circuit and halted far off at the rear-left of the Zhao Family Army's camp. In Commander Xiong's view, the Zhao Family Army's camp had flaws, but their hidden sentries and such were arranged quite well, leaving no gap to exploit — clearly laid out with great care.

But the patrols were too rigid. After hiding there barely half a shichen, Commander Xiong had already discerned the pattern. The bandits' roving cavalry and hidden sentries patrolled back and forth, and the sentinels on the earthen ramparts carrying lanterns — their timing was all far too fixed. Though nearly impossible to slip past while a man was present, there was a gap of about one incense stick's time. In that interval, this rear-left position was empty. How could a few sentry posts possibly stop the elite troops of a government night raid?

Commander Xiong spoke a few words in a low voice, and the several hundred men he led all began to prepare. Those who sortied from the city at deep night to raid a camp were the finest of the finest — courage and fearlessness alone were not enough. If a man could not see clearly on the night march or could not run when it was time to attack, that not only caused delay but dragged down his comrades. This was also the source of Commander Xiong's confidence: he too was a man who led troops into battle and knew the fighting strength of the unit behind him. On a battlefield, if these several hundred men charged, even a formation of thousands or tens of thousands might not stop them.

"Now!" Commander Xiong barked in a low voice. Pudao in hand, he sprinted forward. The men behind him all followed at a run, but at this moment, everyone still moved softly. If they did not charge into the bandits' camp, wild shouting would only draw encirclement and expose their position.

Those few bandit sentinels were all near the rampart. The light here was dim, and everyone's footsteps were very light. Commander Xiong reckoned the bandit sentries would not know death was upon them until they were right in front of them. He held his blade crosswise, ready to swing at any moment. If this succeeded, he could at least earn a Mobile Corps Commander's career. He had risen from the rank of Squad Leader; without great merit or extraordinary achievement, there was simply no way to rise high.

They were almost upon them now. He could clearly see the bandit sentries — could see the shocked expressions on their faces. They were now forty-some paces from the bandits' rampart. Once they killed them, they could charge in!

But at that very moment, those few bandit sentries did not shout, did not flee, did not resist — they simply clasped their heads and dropped to the ground. Was this how bandits begged for mercy? Yet at this critical juncture, there was no time for hesitation or doubt. Charge forward, cut them down, and storm the camp!

"Thump!" "Thump!" Several muffled reports rang out in succession. Flashes sparked from a few points on the wall directly ahead. Every hair on Commander Xiong's body stood on end. What sound was this? It did not sound like cannon, yet not like a fire lance either...

Then Commander Xiong heard the dense shriek of tearing air, as if demons and ghosts from the netherworld were howling and screaming. He saw lines of blood burst from the bodies of the dozen-plus government elites charging at the front — they were blasted backward. It was truly a lightning-flash instant. Commander Xiong instinctively raised his pudao to parry, a sliver of wishful hope in his heart: he wore a fine coat of chain mail; it might block somewhat...

The pudao was snapped in two. Commander Xiong's body was struck heavily in several places. In that instant, Commander Xiong felt as though his whole body had been pierced by arrows — only this time, the arrowheads struck with a force a hundred times greater than any he had ever experienced.

A third of the several hundred elite government troops raiding the camp were cut down in that instant of muffled reports. Then a shout was heard from within the rampart, followed immediately by the twang of bowstrings — this sound they knew well: arrows were loosed. By the lantern light atop the rampart, they watched the rain of arrows descend, and another wave of screams and collapsing bodies followed.

By this point, who would dare press forward? The enemy had clearly been fully prepared and waiting for them. Those who dared to sortie at night were all elites, and at this moment they were decisive enough — ignoring their comrades groaning and dying on the ground, they all turned and fled. If they ran too late, it would be too late. But it was already too late. The sound of hoofbeats rose from left and right, and flaming arrows shot over one after another, falling ceaselessly among the crowd. These fire arrows were not meant to kill, but to mark the direction for the pursuers.

Fortunately, the roving cavalry the Zhao Family Army had deployed outside did not pursue far — they turned back after two hundred paces. Yet cavalry chasing infantry, and lightly equipped infantry at that, inflicted utterly devastating casualties. The government elites who had not died before the rampart were thoroughly scattered. Only a hundred or so men could flee. As for whether these soldiers would return to camp, that was hard to say.

On the side near the canal, similar sounds rang out. Grapeshot fired from one-pounder and two-pounder cannons swept clean the raiding government troops within several dozen paces. The officer leading them also perished on the spot. But the space between the rampart and the canal was limited, and many routed government troops had no choice but to leap into the canal. The soldiers on the boats took up iron-tipped bamboo poles, stabbing at any figure moving on the water's surface. They searched by lantern light, and few could slip through the net.

At the rear-left position, the archers all came up to look. Seeing the corpses lying strewn in every direction outside, there was not much excitement on their faces — rather, they looked somewhat disgruntled. One man even said listlessly, "We brothers loosed two volleys, and still didn't kill as many as those four cannons did."

"The ones with fire lances are all sleeping; only we drew night watch. Back when we trained in archery, we thought it was a fine skill. Never imagined that after we studied for years, even a decade, we'd be outmatched by those who trained just a few months. Better switch trades early!"

"Don't spout that damned defeatist talk! He fusses about firing one lead ball, while we loose several arrows — we're still faster!"

The archers' discussion was quickly silenced by the squad leaders and company commanders. Tomorrow was the great battle, and tonight there was no telling whether another raid might come. They could not waste their energy; everyone needed to seize the time to rest.

From the county seat walls of Jinghai, such distant details could not be seen. When the Zhao Family Army's camp erupted in noise and clamor, all kinds of sounds interweaving, the civil officials and military officers on the wall grew excited. Several generals even issued repeated orders: the moment the bandits' camp collapsed, they would immediately sortie and strike.

But the noise and clamor did not last long. It quickly fell silent, and the atmosphere on the wall instantly turned deeply somber. Though they could not see the details, everyone knew what had happened. Those who had just been disparaging the bandits as all show now hung their heads dejectedly. By now, what was there not to understand? The Xuzhou bandits not only had no flaws, they had deliberately left openings for the government troops to walk into. Such seasoned cunning was not something outwardly formidable but inwardly hollow amateurs could manage.

Supreme Commander Wang Zaijin, Chief General Zhang Jixian, and the commanding officers of the various units all remained relatively composed. A night raid like this was a gamble to begin with — a small wager for a fat prize; losing it did not cost much. Veterans of many campaigns naturally took it in stride. But the dejection was unavoidable. After descending from the wall, Supreme Commander Wang Zaijin did not dismiss the generals. He summoned them all to the central command for a council.

"I hear that Xuzhou Mobile Corps Commander Zhou Baolu has already turned traitor and joined the rebels. The bandit army gaining the aid of this veteran general is truly a great calamity!" As soon as they took their seats, Wang Zaijin brought this up first. This somewhat dispersed the crowd's sense of defeat — that Zhou Baolu might not understand righteousness, but he was a man seasoned in leading and using troops. With his guidance, suffering this loss was not unjust.

The atmosphere in the room eased slightly. Wang Zaijin said in a deep voice, "These past few days, everyone has seen and heard: this Xuzhou bandit army is no motley mob. Their advances and retreats are quite methodical. With a turncoat general advising them and treacherous merchants supplying their provisions, this is a very tough bone to chew. If our army seeks a quick victory, I fear there will be difficulties."

Deputy Regional Commander Liu Pinghu, who led the Ji Garrison troops, spoke up: "Your Excellency Wang speaks reason. However, our army has a strong city at our back, ample provisions, and superior numbers. So long as we do not rashly sally forth, the bandits' defeat is still inevitable!"

These words made the expressions of both Wang Zaijin and Zhang Jixian rather unsightly. When the proposal to send troops on a night raid had been made, this Liu Pinghu had opposed it. Now he brought it up again, clearly not to comfort anyone. Supreme Commander Wang Zaijin glanced at that Major General Hong leading the Capital Garrison, then at that Mobile Corps Commander Bu from Shanxi, and the two Major Generals from Zhending and Baoding. Every face was grim as water, unreadable.

But in his heart, Supreme Commander Wang Zaijin knew clearly: each man's thoughts were different. Some were just going through the motions, some were waiting to watch a joke, and some were up to who knew what. That Major General from Baoding Garrison had actually spent money to buy two servant girls after arriving at Jinghai — what kind of behavior was that for a military expedition?

Civil officials were esteemed, military men debased; civil ministers commanded the armies. Even Qi Jiguang, the greatest general of the Great Ming, had to call himself a running dog before the Chief Grand Secretary. Wang Zaijin knew these precedents, but his experiences in Liaodong and Liaoxi also taught him that if a military officer stubbornly refused to obey orders, a civil minister truly had little recourse.

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