Chapter 1321: Landing at Jianzhou

Liu Xingzhi's face no longer held any grief or indignation. He turned coldly and walked back into the crowd. Before long, the crowd had shrunk by a third. The remaining able-bodied men exchanged uncertain glances, all instinctively putting more distance between themselves and the fort. Inside the Cloud Mountain Trading Post's fortress stronghold, the soldiers of the Zhao Family Army wore grim expressions, and the sympathy in their eyes as they looked down had vanished completely.

"Battalion Commander, the able-bodied men outside have all been reassigned. Only about a hundred are left nearby keeping watch," someone reported to Zhao Song.

Zhao Song nodded, then said to Luo Chen with a dark face, "Steward Luo, this Mao Wenlong has crooked intentions. With a powerful enemy right in front of him, all he thinks about is swallowing up our battalion. How can he possibly fight well? I'd say he's heading for a crushing defeat!"

These words were both analysis and anger. Each time, though the encounters had ended in awkward stalemates, thinking back on them revealed just how dangerous they had been. If Zhao Song's side had agreed to join the battle or provide firearms, they would likely have faced mortal peril in the blink of an eye — dying on this isolated island of Pi Island with no one to bury their bones.

The smile had long since vanished from Luo Chen's face. He said coldly, "Mao Wenlong may carry some measure of righteous purpose in his heart, but this man's other ambitions are far too heavy. Before you arrived, Battalion Commander, I already felt he was too fond of doing business. All the Goryeo merchants on the island were brought here by him. Instead of planning a counteroffensive or arranging defenses, he's always trading and amassing wealth. That is no way for a military officer to behave. This time only confirms it — Mao Wenlong won't last long."

But there were a few things Luo Chen kept to himself. The battalion Zhao Song commanded was simply too fat. If Mao Wenlong could truly swallow it, he would have freedom to advance or retreat at will among Pi Island, the Jianzhou Jurchens, and Goryeo — enough to stand on his own. From Mao Wenlong's perspective, there was nothing wrong in doing so.

Luo Chen had another thought as well. Mao Wenlong could be considered shrewd, and he had stratagems and tactics in mind, but he failed to grasp the greater trend. With the Xuzhou Zhao Family Army in existence, no matter how others twisted and turned, it was all wasted effort.

"Steward Luo, send two more men up to the hilltop lookout to raise the flags. If we hadn't made preparations in advance, this pack of Pi Island bandits really would have slipped in on us!" Zhao Song instructed before stepping out.

The Zhao Family Army and Cloud Mountain Trading Post had hastily set up a lookout post the night before, positioned at the highest point on Pi Island. This highest point could not see every corner of Pi Island, but it could observe the movements of all the camps of Pi Island's Eastern River Garrison. Moreover, its position was exactly such that the Cloud Mountain Trading Post's fortress below could see it. Through this, Cloud Mountain Trading Post could make a reasonably timely assessment of the overall situation on Pi Island, and it also confirmed that Liu Xingzhi's words had been lies.

But after the incident just now, everyone's mood actually relaxed considerably. The situation on Pi Island still seemed quite secure. Otherwise, Mao Wenlong would have thrown every camp into a death struggle against the Tartars — how would he have had the mind to scheme against the Zhao Family Army's side, or the ability to mobilize so many forces for the scheme?

At that moment, the northern shore of Pi Island grew tense once more, because the tide was receding even further, and the Jianzhou Jurchens were sending out even more rafts. The previous attack had only been a probe; this time, they were committing serious resources. The two boats captured earlier had already been put to use, and signal flags could be seen moving on them — they were actually being used as command ships. Though the boats were laughably small, they were far more nimble than the rafts.

The Eastern River Garrison's naval forces had not come ashore. One sampan after another ferried personnel and weapons to resupply them. When the enemy appeared, these boats all sailed out to meet them again. The situation had reached this point — it was nothing more than a fight to the death.

The two sides closed in, and the battle began no differently from the first. Once again, many rafts carrying fewer than ten men could be seen circling toward each boat. The people on the rafts were still wailing and begging for mercy, but this time the Eastern River Garrison's naval forces showed no hesitation whatsoever — they simply cut them down. Screams rang out in waves. The rafts behind, seemingly terrified by the slaughter ahead, many of them preferred to take a wide detour just to avoid the fleet.

The sailors and soldiers on the Eastern River Garrison's fleet suddenly realized that among the forward rafts they were engaging, the wailing people included Han civilians from Liaodong and commoners from Goryeo. By this point, some had hair disheveled and loose. The Eight Banners soldiers all had shaved heads with the queue — only Han and Goryeo people could look like this. Could it be that these really were genuine refugees and displaced people, and they had just slaughtered so many of them?

But in that brief moment of hesitation, arrows suddenly shot out from those rafts. Some men shoved aside the human shields blocking their way and charged onto the boats. Even worse, some lifted lit clay jars and hurled them onto the boats. The jars shattered, the oil inside splashed everywhere, and flames spread in their wake. Yet the arrows from below and the climbing continued unabated. In the chaos, there was no time to spare a hand. The boats were all made of wood — once the fire spread, there was nothing to be done.

Killing might mean mistakenly killing suffering compatriots from the Liaodong Garrison. As for whether Goryeo people lived or died, the soldiers of the Eastern River Garrison never cared. But not killing meant that among these genuine refugees and Goryeo captives, there might be hidden death warriors of the Jianzhou Jurchens. The Tartars' fierce courage and brutality were truly unmatched. In a battle on the sea atop rafts, where nine out of ten would die, they could still fight so tenaciously.

In the end, one's own survival mattered most. Before long, the Eastern River Garrison's fleet held nothing back. Any raft on the sea, no matter how desperately the people on it wailed and pleaded, was killed without exception. Rafts truly had no advantage against boats. Seeing such ferocity, only a small number of rafts behind continued to press forward. Most rafts preferred to steer clear, but on this stretch of sea, there was no real way for rafts to evade — the chances of being caught were high.

On the hillside halfway up the northern shore of Pi Island, Mao Wenlong watched the battle intently. When Liu Xingzhi had earlier reported Cloud Mountain Trading Post's reaction, he had merely sneered twice. It had been a spur-of-the-moment probe anyway. But Zhao Song and Luo Chen's assessment was not wrong either. In the midst of fierce battle, Mao Wenlong and the Pi Island commanders still dared to mobilize several battalions in preparation to swallow and violently merge another force — they truly were not worried about this fight.

"This stretch of sea is worth a hundred thousand soldiers!" Mao Wenlong remarked with emotion, then gave further orders: "Calculate the currents. The corpses will all drift to the beach. Remember to pick out the Tartars and cut off their heads. Once today's fighting is done, go out and dredge some up. These heads are our military glory and our riches!"

The men around him roared their assent. The Great Ming recorded military merit by severed heads, and the most valuable heads at present were those of the Jianzhou Jurchens. Yet from the start of the war until now, the Great Ming's official troops had hardly any such trophies. But on the sea right now, the floating corpses alone already numbered in the hundreds. Among them, the heads of Jurchen soldiers had to be at least over a hundred, perhaps even more. Converted into military merit, these heads could allow a Squad Commander to directly assume the rank of Mobile Corps Commander or even Regional Commander.

It was not that the high-ranking posts of Mobile Corps Commander and Regional Commander had become worthless, but rather that Jianzhou Jurchen heads were currently far too scarce. To take heads in battle usually required having the upper hand or achieving victory. Yet from the start of the war until now, when had the Great Ming ever held the upper hand? Victory was even more out of the question. Naturally, this caused the value of Jianzhou Jurchen heads to soar ever higher.

This was the advantage naval battle held over land battle — all the more so in the narrow sea between Pi Island and the mainland. The Eastern River Garrison could collect Jurchen heads at its leisure. At this moment, Mao Wenlong had already made his decision. Whatever Xuzhou intended was obscure and hard to fathom, but the Great Ming still stood, and the Great Ming was still the legitimate authority. Then he would leverage that legitimacy and righteous cause to extract more benefits.

"The Tartars' rafts have circled around!" someone suddenly cried out in alarm. The commanders at the observation post all changed color. Looking out to sea, they saw that the Eastern River Garrison's fleet was still locked in entanglement with the rafts, while even more rafts were bypassing them.

At the very start, the rafts had all surged toward the Eastern River Garrison's fleet. The two sides clashed head-on as if fighting on land, neither willing to retreat. First came the rafts rowed by Liaodong Han civilians and Goryeo people, then the Jianzhou Jurchens' own rafts. The Eastern River Garrison's fleet had completely seized the upper hand, but that upper hand had not translated into absolute dominance or victory. The two sides remained locked in entanglement — after all, the Eastern River Garrison had no large ships.

The men on the forward rafts were slaughtered and swept away, and the rafts behind pressed forward to take their place. But unless a raft was burned and destroyed by fire, even if it capsized it still floated on the water. The Jianzhou Jurchens' tactics had changed. They used wooden strips and iron nails to link rafts together, and some men even threw themselves recklessly into chaining rafts to the boats with iron chains and hooks. In this way, the rafts connected to one another, greatly expanding their surface area. The Jurchen soldiers stepping and fighting on them were no longer so cramped — it became almost the same as fighting on land.

By this point, though the two sides were still at sea, the fighting resembled land combat. The Eastern River Garrison's boats were nothing more than fortifications made of wood. The Jianzhou Jurchens could conquer even brick-and-stone walled cities, let alone these low "wooden walls." But this was still at sea, after all. The soldiers on the boats held the high ground and could advance or retreat at will. The Eastern River Garrison's soldiers might not match the enemy in fierce courage, but in fighting with no regard for their own lives, they surpassed them. The two sides became locked in entanglement here.

Because the main mass of Jianzhou Jurchen rafts was so troublesome, the Eastern River Garrison's fleet began to concentrate. Two more boats fell under Jianzhou Jurchen control, and fierce slaughter raged on the decks of several others. Yet right in the midst of this entanglement, the remaining rafts broke away from the fight and surged toward the northern shore. The tide was still receding — they only needed to row a few hundred paces to reach the beach here.

"All boats, move to engage! The old camp's men, form ranks! Old Chen, Old Li, bring out everything we've been holding in reserve, or there'll be nothing left!" Though the crisis had come suddenly, Mao Wenlong showed no panic. Here on Pi Island, no matter how many schemes one harbored, everyone was quite philosophical about life and death — especially when it came to fighting the Tartars to the death.

The ten boats held in reserve began to move out. In the haste and confusion, and catching the moment of the receding tide, three boats actually ran aground. The mass of rafts drew closer and closer. The Eastern River Garrison's reserve warships sailed to meet them. Amid the raft formation, chaos erupted, men and rafts overturning. Yet a small number of rafts entangled the boats while the rest continued to surge toward the shore. Before even reaching the sand fully, the Jurchen soldiers on the rafts were already leaping into the sea, charging toward the shore through chest-deep water.

On the shore, companies of Eastern River Garrison soldiers were already waiting. They often left the island to harass and attack the Jianzhou Jurchens, but this was the first time the Jianzhou Jurchens had struck the island itself.

Thanks to "Xishuashua, Qi Sanwen, Wind Dragon King, Li Shenlinxi" and several other old friends for their tips. Thanks to everyone for your subscriptions and monthly tickets. Thank you all for your support.