Chapter 1322: Xuzhou-Made Goods Are Reliable

Many of the soldiers newly conscripted into the ranks were quite nervous, and the veterans weren't much better off. Though they had the resolve to die seeking vengeance, they were still defeated generals after all — that day they had been swept away like dry weeds, fleeing for their lives all the way here. Seeing those ferocious Tartars brought back the terror of that day.

Bird guns, three-eyed guns, and quick-fire guns opened up in succession, and there were even several crouching-tiger cannons — but they fired far too early, kicking up sheets of spray across the sea's surface. The Jurchen soldiers at the very front raised their shields to block; those without shields simply covered their faces with their arms. They had faced plenty of Ming firearms before. Apart from cannon fire, which could kill, the rest were quite limited in power, and these Ming officers and soldiers always liked to open fire prematurely — Dongjiang Garrison was no exception.

After one volley, many of those holding quick-fire guns and three-eyed guns simply tossed their firearms aside and drew their own blades and spears. Compared to the firearms in their hands, they still trusted hand-to-hand combat more. What truly inflicted casualties on the Jurchens were bows and arrows. Dongjiang Garrison had not stored many bows and arrows originally, but after trade with Xuzhou began, they had purchased quite a few from Goryeo. The quality of Goryeo bows and arrows was fairly excellent, but Dongjiang Garrison's weakness was a shortage of archers. The warriors capable of drawing a bow and shooting were usually the personal troops and household retainers of military officers — at the very least, they were the backbone of the army. These men either moved fast, or had someone to take them in, or even received better treatment after surrendering. Naturally, they would not come to the bitterly cold and dangerous Pi Island.

If the archers had been as numerous as the firearms troops, every Jurchen soldier charging ashore would have been shot dead. But as it was, most of them still surged forward. Less than a quarter of the firearms had opened fire, and at this distance of twenty-some paces, they did inflict some real casualties. Now it was a land battle, and in land battles, the Jianzhou Jurchen troops never feared the Great Ming's official armies.

The Jianzhou Jurchen soldiers roared as they attacked, and the Dongjiang Garrison soldiers holding the shore also shouted battle cries as they met them. Whether in training or actual combat, the Jianzhou Jurchen soldiers were superior to these men of Dongjiang Garrison. Once ashore, they formed into small squads of a few men, and then those squads assembled together, with the highest-ranking company commander shouting orders. Some with bows on their backs even drew and loosed arrows — a short soaking in seawater would not affect the bow's performance.

The Jurchen great bows and heavy arrows — when an arrow struck, even in a non-vital spot, it caused massive bleeding. Some of the Pi Island soldiers charging at the front died instantly from arrow hits; others, after being struck, collapsed to the ground after only a few steps. Their comrades did not dodge or make way, but still charged forward shouting battle cries. In such a bloody battlefield melee, there was only one purpose among them: to kill more of the enemy.

Yet even the Dongjiang soldiers who fell from arrow wounds, if not dead at once, would still crawl forward. Even as they were constantly trampled by their own comrades, before dying they had to drag a Tartar down to death with them — even if it was just to take a bite.

When a Jianzhou Jurchen soldier's blade cut into their bodies, they would actually seize the blade itself, letting a comrade rush in to kill. If their own weapon was cut in two by the enemy, they would throw their bodies forward in a desperate tackle, letting a comrade kill both them and the Tartar they held. Though their combat skills were inferior, their strength inferior, and their equipment far inferior, relying on this resolve to die, both sides fought a bloody death-struggle on the beach. The beach and the seawater were both dyed red.

The fighting was brutal, the killing cries shook the heavens. Rafts kept coming in, Jurchen soldiers continuously jumping off them, and some rafts rowed forward as far as they could, while the Jurchen soldiers aboard drew their bows and loosed arrows in volleys into the crowd fighting on the shore. They were not necessarily sharpshooters, but their general aim was not bad, and they killed and wounded more and more of the Dongjiang Garrison Ming troops.

After the initial head-on clash, the Jianzhou Jurchens still managed to gain a foothold on the beach, assembling three companies, and scattered Eight Banners soldiers kept coming in. Once a Jurchen force took shape, it was beyond the Dongjiang Garrison troops' ability to suppress. The weapons disparity was far too great: when blade clashed with blade, the Dongjiang Garrison's blades would be cut through or bent; some long spears suddenly lost their heads mid-thrust; some bowstrings snapped.

Such breakage was no accident, yet the Jianzhou Jurchen soldiers' weapons suffered no such failures. On the battlefield, the quality of one's weapon was a matter of life and death — this single factor alone began to widen the gap. If the Jianzhou Jurchens' clothing had not been soaked through with seawater, hindering their movements, this advantage would have widened even further.

However, Dongjiang Garrison had a force of nearly a thousand men whose steel blades, long spears, and bows were not one bit inferior to Jurchen equipment. And these thousand-odd men were all battle-hardened elite troops. Wherever the line could not hold, these thousand-odd men charged there. The Jianzhou Jurchen offensive was immediately checked. And among these thousand-odd men, twenty wore full-body iron armor — the elite of the elite. Jianzhou Jurchen blade cuts, spear thrusts, and arrow shots, as long as they landed on the armor, could not harm the wearer.

Relying on the assault of these twenty men, an entire company that had just assembled was shattered. Just at that moment, the sound of horns rose from the sea. The sound was not very distinct, because it also sounded from the landward side. By now, the battle at sea had already reached its conclusion — the Jianzhou Jurchen rafts, after all, were not suited for naval combat. The Dongjiang Garrison's fleet had begun to sweep across the sea's surface, and the rafts from the land could no longer keep up.

Meanwhile, Dongjiang Garrison's thousand-odd backbone troops had already engaged the Jurchens who had come ashore. In the eyes of the Ming troops, the Jurchen soldiers who feared no death were also afraid to die. Blocked on the beach and slowly being pushed back, with their retreat route across the sea about to be sealed off — if the fighting continued like this, the outcome would be certain death. They did not fear a desperate fight, but who was willing to throw their life away for nothing? Men began to turn and run into the sea, clambering onto rafts.

One man did this, then two men did this, and more and more Jianzhou Jurchen soldiers turned and fled. The Dongjiang Garrison's offensive grew more and more effective. It did not last long before the Jianzhou Jurchen troops who had come ashore could hold on no longer — their battle line collapsed. By now, some rafts had already rowed far out to sea; those left behind could only swim.

"Spare me! I only did this because the Tartars forced me! I'm a Han man too, I'm from Tieling Garrison!" Seeing there was no escape, some Jianzhou Jurchen soldiers wailed and knelt on the ground begging for mercy, but they spoke in the Liaodong military dialect — the common official speech of the Liao garrisons.

Such pleas for mercy caused no surprise, but neither did anyone show mercy. Toward these traitors who, though of Han blood, had surrendered and become collaborators, everyone's hatred gnashed their teeth even harder. They were given no chance to speak — hacked directly into mincemeat by a flurry of blades, with everyone cursing. And on the sea, the killing was even more satisfying: rafts were rammed and capsized, spears from the boats stabbed downward — there was simply no chance of swimming back.

The battlefield finally fell silent. From the Jurchen camp on the opposite shore, no new wave of rafts emerged. On the sea's surface, only corpses and burning wreckage remained. This battle — Dongjiang Garrison had won. The moment this sank in, wild cheers erupted from the northern shore of Pi Island. People laughed loudly and wept bitterly. Some shouted curses toward the opposite shore, even knowing the enemy could not hear. Others, already calmed, began retrieving the corpses from the sea.

Below, wild shouts and chaos, a scene of ecstatic celebration — yet where Mao Wenlong stood, there was little excitement. The young military officers on the periphery all had happy expressions, but seeing the grim looks of their leaders, they all consciously composed themselves into solemnity. By this time, Mao Wenlong, Li Jiucheng, and the others had all donned their armor, their weapons placed at hand. Chen Jisheng had gone to the island's interior to make preparations. In battle against the Jianzhou Jurchens, not the slightest ambiguity could be tolerated. From the Liao Garrison's collapse to their wretched survival on Pi Island, they had seen far too much of the Jianzhou Jurchens' ferocity and terror.

"... The weapons allocated by the court are all junk, worse than what we bought from the Goryeo people..."

"... At Sarhu, Du the Bold's helmet was pierced right through by an arrow. What good stuff is left in the court armories? We have too few blacksmiths here — even what we could forge ourselves would be better than the court's junk..."

Listening to the discussions around him, Mao Wenlong's face was dark as water. He said in a muffled voice, "The weapons Xuzhou sold and lent us are all quality goods — sharp and effective in use. Those twenty sets of armor aren't bad either. Without these, there would have been big trouble on the shore today. Li Jiu, take silver to Cloud Mountain Trading House. Buy with silver. If they won't give firearms, then buy their blades and spears. We can't worry about so much at a time like this."

They had thought that relying on their naval superiority, the Jianzhou Jurchen troops would suffer heavy losses at sea. They had not expected them to still charge ashore. If not for the Dongjiang Garrison's backbone troops having weapons of solid quality, this battle would have brought great disaster. It was just past noon — the distance between the coast and the land was truly no obstacle at all. Dongjiang Garrison now had to be cautious beyond all measure, allowing no carelessness whatsoever.

Li Jiucheng over there also understood the gravity of the situation. Upon hearing the order, he hastily acknowledged and left quickly with his men. Below, military officers had already come to report. Mao Wenlong's expression grew even darker, and he could not help cursing in fury: "These mongrel bastards — when they were in the government army, how come we never saw such valor from them? Selling their lives for the Tartars, and now they don't care if they die!"

When the great Jianzhou Jurchen army swept rapidly through the Liao Garrison, some rose up in resistance and revolt — after failing, they either died or fled, the remnants going to Liaoxi or coming to Pi Island. Others silently endured, a wretched life being better than a good death, considering their own survival and their families'. And still others directly surrendered to the Jianzhou Jurchens, offering plans and strategies, charging at the front lines for them. There were licentiates who had passed the civil examinations, and military officers who had drawn Ming pay and rations.

Those Liao Garrison officers and soldiers who surrendered to the Jianzhou Jurchens — when they had been in the Liao Garrison, they shrank back from battle, fleeing whenever they could. But after surrendering, their cowardice was swept away completely. Charging at the front, fighting in close combat — where was any trace of their former timidity? The soldiers and civilians of Dongjiang Garrison had encountered this many times. At first they thought it was simply that these men were shameless and without conscience; later, after experiencing it more, they realized it was not so simple. It was something no one could ever figure out.

Unlike Liu Xingzhi's earlier play-acting, when Li Jiucheng brought his personal troops to the Cloud Mountain Trading House fort, he first removed the saber from his waist, then had his guard escort withdraw, and raised both hands high as he strode forward alone. When he was about ten paces away, he directly knelt and said loudly: "Garrison Commander Zhao, Dongjiang Garrison is in dire peril. For the sake of our past friendship and the stakes of mutual dependence — when the lips are gone, the teeth grow cold — please show mercy and give us aid!"

This action infuriated every Dongjiang Garrison officer and soldier who had followed him. Li Jiucheng, ever since he had come over, had brought many friends, relatives, and old subordinates to Pi Island. Because he was somewhat older and was generous and loyal in his dealings, many had a good impression of him. For even a man like this to kneel to Xuzhou — to what extent had Xuzhou bullied and tyrannized them? They could only see their own grievances, yet could not remember the several times they had tried to reach out and swallow the other side.

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