Chapter 1339: Getting Serious

Perhaps there was enough flat, open ground for a large formation to deploy, but that large formation could only think of charging toward the shore, because that side was flat and open. Retreating meant uneven terrain, making it impossible to keep ranks neat. After falling back, the rear units fell into some disorder, and the front units could no longer continue backward. They could only brace against the captives. Fortunately, the captives' frenzied reverse surge did not last too long. Fortunately, the captives driven forward this time had already suffered devastating losses and soon ceased to be a threat.

The battle was brief, the battle was fierce, but the Jianzhou Jurchen troops and captives who had just moments ago been massed thickly outside the fortress position had already retreated several hundred paces. The surrounding area was wide open. On the battlefield, only corpses remained, along with fortress personnel coming out to collect weapons.

After Zhao Song led two companies out in a charge, they withdrew again with perfect composure. Not a single Zhao Family Army soldier was killed or wounded. Inside and outside the fortress, it was eerily quiet. The gathered commoner laborers were utterly silent. They had never imagined battle would be like this. They had assumed it would be a back-and-forth struggle across the low fortification walls, a tearful fight to the death. Who could have imagined the crackling thunder of firearms opening fire, and then two or three hundred men charging straight into the enemy's formation of several thousand — and then winning just like that? Were these Xuzhou men really from the Great Ming? This way of fighting was simply too strange.

It was precisely that brief battle just now that made the gathered commoner laborers never dare harbor any disloyal thoughts again. There was still a sliver of a chance to survive inside this fortress position — that was one reason. Another was that the murderous aura of those Xuzhou men just now had utterly shaken them. Such slaughter and ferocity were even stronger than those Tatar demons and monsters!

"Master Jin was right. To hold, you must dare to attack outward. If you truly just defend to the death, you'll defend yourself to death!" Zhao Song said to the company commanders and squad leaders below.

That brief, sharp counter-charge just now had given the entire Zhao Family Army, who had been stifled until now, an immense sense of relief — the feeling of finally venting their pent-up frustration. The reason over thirty firelocks had been brought forward so quickly just now was because the spare firelocks had been loaded in advance. After firing, they simply picked up the already-loaded firelocks and opened fire, keeping the firepower continuous and unbroken.

"Teach the Tatars a lesson, make them give up this notion!" one company commander said in a muffled voice.

"Then you'd better not count on it. The Tatars have finally landed on the island, and they mean to wipe this place out completely. How could they possibly let it go? The captives they've seized number at least ten thousand. This is only the beginning." Zhao Song was not optimistic, merely treating it with calm.

Although there was no arrogant self-importance or casual optimism, a victorious start always raised morale. Even the efficiency of operations inside the fortress became much higher. The gathered commoners no longer dared to be the slightest bit sloppy in their work. The armed laborers also lost their fearful expressions and gained a measure of composure. The moment when the enemy was about to charge was the hardest time to steel one's resolve. Seeing the killing cries shake the heavens and corpses strewn across the ground outside was the moment of greatest terror and heart-pounding dread. Once one endured past it, one would become much calmer.

After the Jianzhou Jurchen retreated, they did not charge again, nor did they drive captives forward. The battlefield enjoyed a brief peace. Seizing this opportunity, the commoners sheltered within the fortress fortifications began reinforcing the outer walls. The breastworks on the position had been hastily constructed the day before; no repair or reinforcement was superfluous.

"The Tatars are supporting someone as they walk over." The Zhao Family Army soldier on lookout duty passed the message down. Puzzled, Zhao Song and Luo Chen went up to observe. They saw someone supporting a Jurchen military officer, surveying the scene from a distance. Although the Jianzhou Jurchen were fierce and cruel, they were far less ostentatious than the Great Ming's official army. Why were they putting on such grand airs? It looked peculiar. Still, this was certainly the enemy commander surveying the battlefield.

"My lord, none of the households are willing to spend men to fill the gap. These captured slaves are meant to farm and reclaim wasteland. Even if sold back to the Ming, they'd fetch a good price. But this stockade is too tough. Sending them up just gets them killed for nothing. It's simply not worth it."

Several company commanders had gathered around Donggo Hohori. Although this old general needed the support of his personal guards just to stand, everyone remained cautious and deferential. The deputy commander Busan, standing off to one side, wore a very ugly expression. After yesterday's great victory, Donggo Hohori had come ashore by boat. Busan, without consulting him, had directly arranged today's assault on the stockade, never expecting to come away battered and bloodied.

The reverse surge of the captives at the front just now had thrown the Jianzhou Jurchen's own ranks into chaos. Captive casualties exceeded a thousand, and beyond that, Jianzhou Jurchen troop losses numbered over eighty. Originally, relying on the authority of the Fourth Beile Hong Taiji to compel obedience, the subordinate company commanders had all been very compliant. But once these losses occurred, everyone realized that fortress would be tough to crack. They were also loath to part with the people and goods already in hand, and even less willing to send their own banner men into battle. They had already won; why endure further hardship? While Busan was still raging furiously on this side, the other side had already sent for Donggo Hohori.

"What's in hand is silver; what's not yet in hand is mere pebbles. Are these Han people of Dongjiang Town already in your hands?" Donggo Hohori asked in a hoarse voice. He had not even wanted to set foot on Pi Island. Old and decrepit, even traveling on a calm sea by ship was extremely arduous for him.

There was no response from below. The expressions of the several company commanders gathered around Donggo Hohori were rather awkward. The reason they had invited this nominal commander-in-chief was precisely to have him rein in Busan. The military orders said to annihilate Dongjiang; that was now done. Why go to the trouble of attacking this little stockade for no gain? Everyone knew that Donggo Hohori and Busan did not get along. They had not expected Donggo Hohori's tone to be so different.

"What did we come to strike Dongjiang Town for? Was it not so that when we campaign west or north, we won't be harassed by these Ming curs, won't have to hold back our full strength? Now Dongjiang Town is destroyed, and some Xuzhou men pop up. If they didn't cause trouble, it would be one thing, but coming and going like this, our Jianzhou men have lost nearly several hundred to them. Are you just going to let this pass? In the old days, Dongjiang Town scurried east and ran west — how many heads could they take at a time? How many heads did these several hundred take at a time? Wait until they catch their breath!"

Donggo Hohori's voice grew louder as he spoke. The company commanders around him unconsciously stooped and bowed. He was, after all, the foremost figure of the Donggo clan, one of the Five Ministers who had followed the Great Khan in conquering the realm. Though old and decrepit, when his anger flared, he still possessed such authority.

Having spoken with such rare agitation, Donggo Hohori broke into violent coughing the moment he finished. Those close enough could see the flecks of blood he coughed up. Everyone understood in their hearts that this old minister likely could not hold on for many more days. Busan, however, had an expression of excitement. He had originally thought Donggo Hohori had come to shame him; he had not expected to receive his support.

Donggo Hohori was not yet finished. He had little strength left, and his voice had grown much quieter: "Do you dare return like this? Once this Pi Island becomes a threat again, will the Fourth Beile spare you? Will the Great Khan spare you? Seeing so many able-bodied people, have you lost your minds?"

At this question, everyone felt a chill of dread. They had indeed been dazzled by these ten-thousand-plus able-bodied people. Now, the Liao territory and the Jurchen lands beyond the border wall were all vast and sparsely populated. There was no shortage of land for farming, forestry, herding, or fishing, but labor was desperately needed. After this victory, everyone had been excited by the spoils, and no one wanted any more attrition.

But thinking of the Great Khan, no one dared be negligent. The Fourth Beile was magnanimous toward his subordinates, but on major matters, he was never ambiguous. If he acted according to military law, he too had an iron fist. And as for the Great Khan, just thinking about him filled everyone with fear. The Great Khan's temper had grown increasingly unpredictable in recent years. Even his own younger brother Surhaci and his eldest son Cuyen had been executed. Quite a few nobles of the other banners had died as well. Connecting this to the significance Donggo Hohori spoke of — annihilating Dongjiang Town — and then considering the consequences of glossing things over, everyone immediately understood what had to be done. They had no choice but to take this stockade, even if it meant expending all the captives they had seized, even if it meant expending the soldiers under their command. They had to attack. Otherwise, even if Donggo Hohori didn't report it, even if Busan didn't report it, who knew if someone beside them might report it? Who knew if the slaves under them might report it...

"The Master's words are reasonable. This slave was muddled. In a moment, this slave will lead his troops in the vanguard. The Ming curs rely on their powerful firearms, but once we truly close in, what are they!" one company commander said gruffly. The others also came to their senses, and everyone wanted to declare their resolve and ask to fight.

Just at that moment, Deputy Commander Busan, who had been standing at the outer circle, walked in. After all, they had invited Donggo Hohori precisely to avoid a hard assault, so now the situation was somewhat awkward. Everyone lowered their heads to avoid his gaze. Busan, however, did not seem to care much. He walked up to Donggo Hohori, saluted, and said in a muffled voice: "My lord, your subordinate will lead his own niru first. If we are to fight, your subordinate will fight first!"

At these words, the expressions of those looking at him improved considerably. In that morning's hard battle, his own Busan's niru had not gone up, and the captives he had seized had not been moved, while everyone else was sent to be ground down. Where in the world was there such a principle? Even the Great Khan would not keep the Two Yellow Banners idle and only send the other banners forward.

Those few agitated, high-spirited sentences just now seemed to have exhausted Donggo Hohori's energy. He was breathing like a bellows. Listening to the declarations of his subordinates and Busan, it took Donggo Hohori a long time to calm down. A smile appeared on his face, and he said in his hoarse voice: "When you have captives to drive forward, why go yourselves? No matter how troublesome this stockade is, it will tire eventually!"

With this mental knot untied, the various commanding officers no longer had any resistance to expending captives. Being so fixated on spoils not yet in hand was simply too foolish. Everyone became relaxed. As the atmosphere improved, Busan slapped his forehead with his hand and said in a muffled voice: "We've been fighting stupidly too. This stockade's firearms are formidable, so don't charge head-on. Make large shields covered with cotton quilts and advance. What use will their weapons be then?!!"

"Both my lords speak wisely. This subordinate also feels we shouldn't drive all the captives forward. These Ming official troops have no integrity. Why not just recruit a few battalions on the spot and have them drive the others forward? We'll hold the line behind them. That way, we won't have the trouble of them surging back at us."

With everyone contributing ideas, the discussion grew more and more relaxed. By the end, all eyes were cast toward the fortress encampment not far away, every gaze burning with intensity. The great battle was about to begin. In all these years, there had never been a place the Jianzhou Jurchen could not take, let alone this tiny stockade by the sea!

Thank you, everyone.