Chapter 1327: The Spirit Is Willing, but the Flesh Is Weak

As they walked toward the beach, some still turned and fled, running all the way back to Pi Island. Hadn't they endured countless hardships just to survive? Having finally made it here, why go throw their lives away? Zheng Xiao'er, however, pressed forward with firm resolve. He suddenly felt there wasn't much joy in living anyway — a few full meals, a few nights of comfortable sleep. Better to stake it all on revenge. At that thought, Zheng Xiao'er turned his head to look at the Cloud Mountain Trading Post fortress, hoping that in his next life he could enjoy such blessings inside!

The fleet kept closing in. Those on shore could now clearly make out the enemy soldiers standing at the prows — it really was the Jianzhou Jurchen Tartars. The men at the very front already had their bows half-drawn. At this sight, every face among the Pi Island soldiers and civilians turned deathly pale, and some began to tremble. Seeing the Jianzhou Jurchen soldiers stirred bitter memories in everyone. If not for these Tartars before them, none of them would ever have come to this bitterly cold, distant island beyond the sea.

"Brothers, wait till they hit the water — we'll kill one for every one of us they get!" the young Dongjiang soldier bellowed. Had anyone been paying close attention, they would have heard the tremor in his voice. But at a moment like this, who had the presence of mind for that? They just trudged forward, trembling. With every step, someone wavered and fled, but those who stayed clenched their jaws tight, ready to fight to the death.

The fleet drew nearer and nearer. Even the fully-sailed ships had lowered oars, rowing furiously. The Jurchen soldiers pressed against the gunwales, watching, ready to wade ashore at any moment. But the ships did not stop. They kept surging forward, driving straight onto a beach utterly unsuited for landing. Some vessels had their hull planks smashed open by rocks on the beach, but they were ashore now. The Jianzhou Jurchen soldiers aboard leapt down one after another, brandishing their weapons and charging forward to attack. They did not wade through the water — they landed directly.

Fighting in the sea, where movement was restricted, they could have used long wooden poles to their advantage. But the enemy was already ashore — what now? This last shred of psychological support for the able-bodied men of Pi Island shattered. Over twenty of them immediately turned and fled, throwing the hastily assembled ranks into chaos. At that moment, the Dongjiang soldier leading the charge at the very front raised his blade and roared: "Everyone, charge with me!"

Watching that young soldier charge forward with a roar, the Pi Island men following him felt their blood boil. Hatred and fury toward the Jianzhou Jurchen drowned out their fear and panic. Every man bellowed and surged forward in a mad rush. Zheng Xiao'er opened his mouth and roared too. At this point, nothing else mattered. Wu Xiaohu was clearly a step slower, but he still followed the charge — they would fight the Tartars to the death!

The Jurchen soldiers who had disembarked were not so rash. The ships targeting this group of Pi Island men had already spotted them while still at sea. As they jumped down from the vessels, the Jianzhou Jurchen archers advanced a few steps, planted their feet, drew their bows, and aimed directly at the men before loosing.

The young Dongjiang soldier charging at the very front was the most conspicuous and thus became the target of the arrows. Several shafts whistled through the air and pierced his body. One arrow shot straight through his neck. The young soldier did not even let out a cry of agony. He staggered forward a few steps, raised his blade with great effort, and then collapsed onto his back.

Zheng Xiao'er, charging forward, had been following right behind that lead soldier. When he saw the soldier fall backward, he felt every muscle in his body seize up — he could not even lift his foot to take another step. Cries of alarm rose from behind him. At that moment, through the comrades ahead of him, Zheng Xiao'er caught sight of the Tartar archers' savage grins not far away. He had seen that same grin on the steward's face back in the village. Suddenly, strength surged through Zheng Xiao'er, and he charged forward again. Twenty-some paces left — if he could get close, killing even one would make it worth it!

By this point, no one was thinking of fleeing anymore. At this distance, there was simply no way to run. They could only fight with everything they had. The Jurchen archers standing there remained utterly composed, continuing to draw and loose their arrows. Every shaft felled a man without fail. The range was too close — aiming a bow was effortless. More and more Jianzhou Jurchen soldiers were leaping from the ships, and every man with a bow began to shoot!

This was far from a rain of arrows, yet still, several dozen men collapsed. All the hot blood, fury, and hatred were doused by those several dozen lives. Zheng Xiao'er could charge no longer. He dared not charge anymore. He saw Wu Xiaohu lying on the ground. Wu Xiaohu seemed to still be alive, but the earth beneath him was already stained red with blood. Zheng Xiao'er felt his hands and feet turn ice-cold. A moment ago, he had cursed himself for not reaching the very front — now, he felt something close to relief.

He was not the only one thinking this way. Men turned and fled, wailing, the wooden poles in their hands abandoned. Zheng Xiao'er did the same, wiping the tears and snot from his face as he ran. He felt utterly ashamed, wishing he could just ram his head into something and die. He had fled all the way from Liaodong Garrison to here, and on Pi Island, he was still fleeing... He could already hear the Tartars' wild, arrogant laughter behind him. The scorn in that laughter was unmistakable to anyone.

He ran two hundred paces in one breath, but no one pursued him. Gasping, he stopped and looked back. He saw that the Jianzhou Jurchen soldiers had not given chase. Instead, they were coming ashore in formation after formation. The ships at the front had beached themselves directly, while those behind were lowering landing boats or leaping into chest-deep seawater to wade ashore. Nearly a hundred ships meant several thousand soldiers — roughly equal to the enemy forces they had faced on the northern shore.

Before long, the Jianzhou Jurchen soldiers ashore already numbered over a thousand. The banners of two company commanders had been raised. Though the formations were not perfectly rigid, a grim and ferocious aura permeated the air.

Zheng Xiao'er had good eyesight. He could even make out the smiles on the Tartars' faces several hundred paces away. A sudden, deep shame washed over Zheng Xiao'er. He wanted to charge out and fight the Tartars to the death — even being shot dead or hacked apart by them would be more honorable than fleeing. But looking at the corpses on the beach, he simply could not make his legs move. Just then, he noticed the smiles vanish from the Tartars' faces. They turned their heads in unison to look in one direction. Zheng Xiao'er instinctively followed their gaze — and saw a force of several hundred men.

"Those are the guards from the Xuzhou Trading Post..." Zheng Xiao'er spoke aloud, but his tone was flat. What could a few hundred men do? There were already over a thousand Tartars ashore. They hadn't come out earlier — were they coming out now just to die?

By this point, Zheng Xiao'er was in no hurry to leave. Pi Island was only so big — there was no way he could seize a boat. With the Tartars on the island, he would either die or be taken as a slave. He might as well watch the scene before him. Zheng Xiao'er held no hope in his heart. The force emerging from the trading post fortress was not moving quickly. Did that look like men ready to fight the Tartars to the death? Could they be coming to parley or surrender?

The Jianzhou Jurchen officers and soldiers already ashore had also spotted the approaching force. They had spies and scouts on the island and naturally knew about the Xuzhou trading post stationed there. From the Jianzhou Jurchen perspective, a trading post posed no threat to offense or defense — sooner or later, it would be fish on the chopping block. It was only after seeing the layout of the trading post's structures that they realized it might not be so simple.

But their caution went no further than that. What was a stronghold of fewer than six hundred men worth? They could deal with it after taking Pi Island — there was no rush. In the minds of the Jianzhou Jurchen officers and soldiers, the fighting strength of the Han was utterly negligible. In an army of ten thousand, only a few hundred were troublesome — and "troublesome" simply meant as strong as a soldier of the Jianzhou Eight Banners. This time, to deal with Dongjiang, each banner had drawn over seven thousand men in total, supplemented by newly surrendered troops from Liaodong Garrison — an army already exceeding ten thousand. To crush this Dongjiang Garrison was already using a butcher's cleaver to kill a chicken. This trading post's few hundred men were not even worth counting as a side dish.

These five hundred-plus men walked very slowly. Their gear was very orderly, their weapons very orderly, and their formation very tight. Though slow, they were still advancing, and no officers barked or hurried them along — their morale and discipline seemed well maintained. But speed is the essence of warfare. If they meant to quickly intervene and stop the landing, they should have formed a column and moved faster. Yet this group of five hundred-plus marched six or seven abreast. Once they passed the open ground of the port docks, the path was no longer wide enough for such a formation. They could only trample through the grass, trees, dirt, and stones along the road, stumbling from time to time.

The Jianzhou Jurchen had planted no small number of spies within the passes, and the merchants who grew rich trading with the Jurchen also brought back all kinds of news from the Great Ming. The Jianzhou Jurchen naturally had some understanding of the Xuzhou Zhao Family Army as an armed force. But to them, defeating Ming troops was no proof of strength. The victories the Xuzhou Army could achieve, Jianzhou could just as easily obtain.

Donggo Intu, the company commander of the Plain Red Banner, was already shouting orders: "Those men approaching have sharp firearms! Archers, advance to the front — loose as soon as you have a shot!"

The Jurchen soldiers, fresh from their recent successes, were in high spirits. Upon receiving the order, they immediately moved toward the approaching Zhao Family Army. Given the few hundred men's pace of advance, the Jianzhou Jurchen side could deploy at perfect leisure. Their own men ashore were growing more numerous by the moment — now over three times the size of this death-wish force. Their fighting strength was superior as well. What was there to worry about?

"Five niru, take the high ground! Bring your bows and watch their flanks! Find an opening and charge down upon them!" Donggo Intu issued another order, and men immediately moved to carry it out. The soldiers below wore relaxed expressions. It was nothing more than butchering pigs and slaughtering sheep, chopping melons and slicing vegetables — a chance to earn merit and advance their careers. What was there to fear? But the niru commanders leading the companies, and the other officers, showed puzzled looks.

As Donggo Intu was issuing commands there, a trusted niru commander came over and said, "My lord, Sir Butu ordered us to secure the coastline and receive the main force. These few hundred men are barely enough to pick from our teeth — why go to such trouble, mobilizing two-thirds of your lordship's men? Just let those subjugated Ujen handle it."

"Ujen" was the Jianzhou Jurchen term for the Han people. Donggo Intu shook his head, his face grim. "I don't trust them. These Ujen are wolf cubs that can never be tamed. They act obedient on the surface, but who knows how deeply they hate us in their hearts. If we send them to fight Han and they turn on us, what then? Butu gave explicit orders several times — this southeastern shore must be held securely. Go tell Sifuca to send six niru over. This is critical! If Dongjiang Garrison still has reserves and strikes us from both sides, we'll be in trouble on this beachhead!"

With the matter put in such terms, the trusted aide naturally did not dare be negligent. Men were dispatched to notify the other company commanders, while others went to muster their own units.

Zheng Xiao'er watched from several hundred paces away, his heart in his throat. When he saw the Tartars charging up the slope, he scrambled backward in panic. After running a stretch, he could not help but look back. Zheng Xiao'er was truly terrified, yet he desperately wanted to watch this battle by the shore. Seeing so many Tartars ashore, and yet those iron-hearted Xuzhou men still dared to come out — this was fighting against overwhelming odds. Zheng Xiao'er had never seen government troops dare to do such a thing.

Thank you, everyone.