Chapter 1319: The Raft

Hearing this, Mao Wenlong's brow furrowed. Somewhat astonished, he said, "Could it be they also want to take advantage of this opportunity to make a move?"

Battle does not begin the moment two sides meet. These ten thousand-plus troops of the Jianzhou Jurchens had advanced rapidly into the area of Tieshan Commandery closest to Pi Island, effectively seizing the most advantageous point for launching an attack. All assaults would be initiated from this point. Here, they needed to set up camp, wait for supplies to be transported from the riverside, raid nearby Goryeo villages, force Goryeo commoners to fell trees and build rafts, and deploy sentries at strategic chokepoints on the perimeter. Although the Goryeo troops were pathetically weak, if they lost their minds and decided to try something, it would still be trouble. With so much to keep them busy, even though they arrived at noon, by all estimates, the attack could not be launched until the day after tomorrow at the earliest.

The later the battle, the more advantageous it was for Dongjiang Garrison. The blockade beforehand had been too tight, giving Dongjiang Garrison only a day and a half's extra time to prepare. And unlike before, when they could at least request reinforcements from Denglai Garrison, now Shandong's Denglai Garrison was completely paralyzed, making it impossible for any reinforcements to be dispatched. Of course, ever since the Zhao family army crushed Denglai Garrison's main government forces, the support Denglai Garrison provided to Dongjiang Garrison was limited to grain, fodder, and military supplies. As for manpower, it was often Liaodong refugees who had fled there being conscripted and sent back. But this had already caused several armed clashes and riots. Having finally escaped, no one was willing to go back, making the process extremely difficult.

Currently, Dongjiang Garrison could only count on two sources: Zhang Pan over in Jinzhou, and the government troops at Tianjin Garrison. Dongjiang Garrison had ships, which the Jianzhou Jurchens had no way of blockading. But Zhang Pan had his hands full, and the Tianjin government troops had never concerned themselves with the Liaodong theater. Even if they wanted to intervene, they were too far away to help. All Dongjiang Garrison could do now was send urgent appeals for help, dispatching distress calls to every government office that might listen, clinging to that one-in-ten-thousand chance and hope.

Everyone on Pi Island knew the situation, so they sent out boats pleading for help as a matter of doing their duty and leaving the rest to fate, while mainly preparing to fight it out on their own. In the past, all the boats would probably have been packed with people fleeing outward long ago—heading to Shandong, to other parts of Goryeo—and they might even have slaughtered each other over the vessels. But now it was different. Because trade with Xuzhou had begun, Dongjiang Garrison had gradually gained some confidence. The island had sufficient grain stores and no shortage of supplies. The soldiers had also won several battles. When there were far from enough boats to carry everyone away, why not fight?

After all, the soldiers and civilians on Pi Island shared an irreconcilable blood feud with the Jianzhou Jurchens. Since many had chosen to stay, it was precisely to fight and risk their lives, not to run away.

Starting that night, both on the island and on the mainland, the opposing coastlines were dotted with lantern light and campfires everywhere. On one hand, they worked through the night to prepare; on the other, they guarded against the enemy crossing stealthily for a night raid. Likewise, the Cloud Mountain Trading Post fortress was also brilliantly lit. The five companies were divided into two groups, rotating night watch and rest. Cannons and fire lances were loaded, and the few remaining seagoing ships were on full alert. For the Xuzhou Zhao family army, what they faced was not just war, but also a threat right beside them.

Apart from the soldiers on guard duty, the clerks of Cloud Mountain Trading Post and selected elite soldiers took turns going out to bring back news from the outside. After clearly stating they would neither send troops nor lend firearms, Dongjiang Garrison explicitly issued a demand: martial law was in effect during wartime, and they hoped the Xuzhou trading post's guards would not leave the post, to avoid any misunderstandings. Zhao Song had no objection to this demand, but he also had no intention of staying cooped up inside. He needed to know every rustle of wind and stir of grass outside.

The only thing they didn't need to worry about was the morale of the various companies. In truth, even Zhao Song himself wanted to engage the Jianzhou Jurchens head-on in battle. But the situation was simply too wrong. Going out to fight would indeed answer the popular sentiment, but if it led to a total loss, that would be a grave crime. Zhao Song knew very well what his five hundred men represented. Their equipment was what the Zhao family army would allocate to an entire regiment. If Dongjiang Garrison got their hands on such equipment, the Zhao family army's entire strategy would run into trouble.

The reason they no longer needed to worry was that the company commanders and platoon commanders inside the trading post had all seen the withdrawal of Pi Island's government troops from the nearby village. They hadn't paid attention before, so naturally the enemy had exploited a blind spot. But once Zhao Song pointed it out, the company and platoon commanders observed from high ground. How could the movement of roughly a thousand government troops be hidden from anyone? Seeing this, they all felt a chill run down their spines, and their fighting spirit immediately surged.

Everyone understood one thing: Xuzhou was Xuzhou, and the Great Ming was the Great Ming. Even when facing the Tatar slaves, the Great Ming did not consider Xuzhou one of its own.

The dark night on Pi Island, where once only the sound of waves lapping the shore could be heard, was no longer so quiet. At the two key points on the northern and western shores, a cacophony of voices roared, while elsewhere, defenses were tight. The deep night and pitch darkness did not mean one could rest; they still had to guard against mutual infiltration. In this night, rowing a boat or riding a raft to land on some secluded spot on Pi Island was far easier than in broad daylight. The Jianzhou Jurchens knew this, and so did Dongjiang Garrison.

According to the news constantly brought back by the Cloud Mountain Trading Post clerks, several skirmishes had already broken out around Pi Island that night. The Jianzhou Jurchens, ferocious on land, truly could not gain any advantage at sea. Moreover, they could only come ashore in small squads, all of whom were cut down on the beach by the well-prepared elite troops of Dongjiang Garrison.

"Tomorrow, take two men to the battlefield. Use what you learned in the academy and bring back what you see," Zhao Song named a platoon commander. Zhao Song had also attended classes at the Xuzhou Martial Arts Academy. Officers who came from that background might not match others in experience or ferocity, but they had a systematic approach to handling matters and adapting. Their way of observing formations and battles was also different from others; they could discern the information most needed by the Zhao family army.

After giving this order, Zhao Song immediately went to rest. Facing the impending battle, he was actually very excited, but Zhao Song knew he had to sleep. Otherwise, he would not be able to guarantee full mental energy during the day. The Zhao family army's military regulations rejected empty formalities and demanded practical results. A commanding general staying up to stand watch for his subordinates was indeed loving his soldiers like sons, but if he lacked energy at the critical moment of battle, leading his men into danger—was that truly loving them or not?

But Zhao Song woke up very early. He had slept enough, and also because Pi Island woke up very early. At the first glimmer of daylight, the sound of drums and horns had already risen from Pi Island. On this day, no one dared to be negligent.

Zhao Song and Luo Chen's assessment was quite correct. Dongjiang Garrison couldn't be bothered with the sporadic movements of individual Zhao family army soldiers. Although the other side had refused to help, they had still provided military supplies, and with past goodwill, there was no reason for hostility. The dispatched platoon commander and others walked nearly the entirety of Pi Island, bringing back more detailed intelligence. Despite the tense atmosphere, the Jianzhou Jurchens would not attack today, because they were not yet ready. Not a single raft had been seen entering the sea so far.

However, Dongjiang Garrison had already requested aid from the Kingdom of Goryeo. They did not expect the weak Goryeo troops to expel the Tatar slaves, but Goryeo at least had the advantage of familiar terrain. If they sent troops to tie down the rampaging Jianzhou Jurchen forces, Pi Island's Dongjiang Garrison would have a much greater chance of defending itself. Thus, another day passed in this tense atmosphere.

The sixth and seventh months were nearly the hottest time in the interior, but the nights and early mornings on Pi Island were somewhat chilly. This allowed Zhao Song, who hated the heat, to sleep very well. The excitement of the previous day had subsided, so he slept more deeply this time. When he was awakened by the sound of horns on Pi Island, he also heard faint, indistinct shouting. This was the sound of the battlefield.

"Battalion Commander, the Tatar troops have begun crossing the sea to attack!" someone loudly reported from outside. Zhao Song sat up abruptly. At such a critical time, he had slept wearing his armor.

The soldier reporting outside was panting heavily, having just run over from the northern shore. According to his description, just as the sky was beginning to brighten, Chen Jisheng, stationed on Pi Island's northern shore, was preparing to sound the horn and beat the drums to begin a new day of vigilance. The tide had only just started to recede. The Jianzhou Jurchens on the opposite shore, who had shown no signs of movement, suddenly launched their attack. One raft after another was thrown into the sea, paddling frantically as they charged toward Pi Island.

Three li was merely a thousand-plus paces. Even on the sea, even using rafts, it wouldn't take too long. The Jianzhou Jurchens had done a thorough job, executing the surprise attack as best they could. It was just that Dongjiang Garrison's reaction was equally swift. On the battlefield, one had to account for all possibilities. Here, boats also began launching into the sea to meet the attack.

Maneuverable boats against crude rafts meant, first, the ability to attack from a higher position, and second, an advantage in speed. And while Dongjiang Garrison's large stockpile of firearms could not compare to the elite equipment of the Zhao family army, they could perform quite well on such a battlefield. Because with the cover and advantage provided by the boats, soldiers could close to within a dozen paces before opening fire. At that distance, the weapons had power no matter what.

The sea was calm and windless, perfect for rowing forward, whether for boats or rafts. The large formations of boats and rafts clashed just like great armies on a land battlefield, charging toward each other before engaging. What the Dongjiang Garrison fleet did not expect was that the Jianzhou Jurchens were actually using Liaodong commoners to paddle the rafts, while the Eight Banners soldiers used these commoners as cover and, incidentally, threatened them to prevent any sudden moves.

When these captured and coerced Han civilians of Liaodong Garrison saw that the other side was the Great Ming's government troops, they immediately burst into loud wails, shouting for mercy and begging to be spared. But any one or two who moved too slowly were directly hacked down into the sea. Even as they wept and screamed, their movements did not slow in the slightest.

The Great Ming's government troops never cared about the lives of commoners. Many battalions, faced with such a scene, would simply cut a swath straight through them to avoid endangering themselves. But Dongjiang Garrison's troops were different. They were refugees who had fled from Liaodong Garrison. Many had been ordinary commoners not long ago, and they had been continuously taking in survivors over the years. Looking at these refugees and civilians just like themselves, they simply could not bring themselves to strike, or rather, they hesitated for a moment, allowing the rafts to draw near.

When the rafts pulled up alongside the boats, those weeping Liaodong commoners suddenly pulled out iron hooks tied to thick ropes, directly grappling the boats together. Then, clenching blades in their teeth, they began clambering up the sides. The Jurchen soldiers inside the rafts drew their bows and nocked arrows, sending a steady stream of shafts onto the deck. It finally dawned on someone: these commoners were in disguise!

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