Chapter 1412: A Great General Leads Troops Isolated Far From Home

Anyone familiar with the terrain of Liaodong knows that the land between Fuzhou and Gaizhou is flat and open, with only a small stretch of rolling hills in the middle — a level corridor between the western coastline and the mountain range, dotted along the way with forts and villages of varying sizes. Marching north from Fuzhou all the way to Gaizhou presents almost no obstacles.

And Gaizhou Guard is the strategic throat of the entire Liaodong. Past Gaizhou Guard, to the west lies Guangning and Jinzhou, leading straight into the Liaoxi Corridor; to the northeast lie Liaoyang and Shenyang.

Guangning and Liao-Shen are the two centers of Liaodong, key nodes in the Liao River system. Guangning is the gateway for trade with the steppe Mongols, while Liao-Shen is the very heart of Liaodong, where the majority of farmland and population are concentrated.

If Gaizhou Guard were taken, one could then threaten both the eastern and western halves of Liaodong at leisure. In other words, the two most critical fronts for the Jianzhou Jurchen Jin Kingdom would become tense, even facing the possibility of being severed east from west.

After the Zhao Army took nearly ten thousand heads at Fuzhou, most people under heaven were stunned by the Zhao Army's might and felt that the mandate of heaven and the turn of fortune had already fallen to Zhao Jin of Xuzhou. But those who truly understood military strategy and the bigger picture were not so quick to judge; they felt there was still a major battle to be fought between Fuzhou and Gaizhou Guard.

Winter was now fast approaching. In winter, the seas off Liaodong freeze over and no ships can come or go. The Zhao Army on the Liaonan Peninsula would become an isolated force.

And in winter, the ground is hard and solid. After the autumn harvest is done, the granaries are full, the oxen and horses are sturdy, and the menfolk are not tied down by farm work — it is precisely the right time to mobilize a large army.

That is to say, before long, there would be another great battle between the Jianzhou Jurchen and the Zhao Army's sea-crossing forces. Only after that great battle would many things become clear, and only then could a true judgment be made. But some people did not think this way. For example, Sun Chuanting, the Grand Coordinator of Datong concurrently in charge of Shanxi, upon confirming that the heads displayed in Tianjin were genuine, immediately accelerated the reorganization of new armies and the pace of reform and innovation in both Datong and Shanxi.

According to news passed on by the Liaoxi military clique, the Jianzhou Jurchen were likely to mobilize an army of thirty to forty thousand this time. This was already a terrifying number — roughly the entire strength of two to three banners, plus troops from the Mongols, Goryeo, and newly surrendered Han forces. Most terrifying of all, the cavalry would number close to ten thousand riders.

Throughout the Great Ming, people always say the Tatar slaves excel at bow and horse. The Jianzhou Jurchen troops previously defeated by the Zhao Army were mainly infantry, supplemented by a small number of cavalry. But now they were likely to use their real capital. Just imagining these cavalry was enough to conjure a heaven-shaking, earth-moving might.

Moreover, the Zhao Army had previously held the advantage in firearms. If the Jianzhou Jurchen brought Goryeo and newly surrendered Han troops, then the Zhao Army might not have any advantage in firearms at all. It was not that Liaodong lacked cannon — quite a few general cannons and great general cannons had fallen into Jianzhou Jurchen hands. And when it came to firelocks, the Goryeo men were no slouches.

That Fei Yanggu, the so-called first of the Five Great Ministers, had lost his life to a firelock in Goryeo. That was why the Jianzhou Jurchen now brought Goryeo firelockers to every major battle. In troop strength, they outnumbered the Zhao Army; in firearms, they were not inferior; and they had so many cavalry. This time, the Zhao Army's true mettle would be tested.

Some even said that the Jianzhou Jurchen were committing their main force this time, while the Zhao Army stationed there was merely a detached force. In a decisive battle that would determine life and death, shouldn't Commander-in-Chief Zhao Jin personally lead his so-called brigades and regiments? With Zhao Jin himself absent, only a senior commander below him present, and less than a quarter of the troops there — if that wasn't a detached force, what was?

The enemy was many and they were few. Under such circumstances, there was truly little hope of victory. And so, everyone had formed a judgment: if the Zhao Army did not send reinforcements, the outcome would likely be grim.

The Zhao Army, however, did not stubbornly cling to its own view. While displaying the heads in Tianjin, they had already begun sending reinforcements to Jinzhou and Fuzhou in Liaonan. The Fengpei Regiment, led by Lu Da, had arrived at the Dengzhou naval port and was boarding ships to cross the sea.

The Fengpei Regiment was a reinforced regiment. This time, for the sea-crossing support mission, the original one regiment plus one battalion had been reorganized into two regiments. Moreover, each regiment was at full strength — ten companies of pikemen and four companies of firelock soldiers. The original reinforced regiment had only four artillery pieces; this time, it had been increased to ten.

Yet no matter how you looked at it, this number of reinforcements was a mere drop in the bucket. And the Zhao Army did little to conceal its intentions. News had come out from both Tianjin Port and Dengzhou Port saying that no more battalions would be shipped over this year, and that the next priority was to rush grain and fodder across.

Such frivolity, such arrogance — truly the path to defeat and ruin. This Zhao Army was taking the Tartars far too lightly.

By this point, those with a discerning eye had grown puzzled. Originally, the imperial court in the capital could only see the Jianzhou Jurchen's true situation as through a fog — many details, even many fundamental things, were unclear. Where had all this explicit intelligence suddenly come from?

Once people started paying attention, it was easy to investigate. It turned out the Liaoxi military clique had been fanning the flames and stirring up trouble everywhere. Once this truth was exposed, more and more things came to light.

For instance, someone had started spreading rumors that the Zhao Army's displayed head-pyramids were the result of killing civilians to pass them off as enemy soldiers, claiming that many villages in Shandong and South Zhili had been slaughtered. Then someone tried to mix commoners' heads into the displayed head-pyramids, but because the site was tightly guarded, they were caught red-handed on the spot. After that came talk that the Zhao Army had only won this battle by exploiting a gap in the Tartars' defenses, and that the prospects ahead were grim.

What was even more laughable and infuriating was that the Liaoxi military clique had been trying all along to buy those heads the Zhao Army had displayed — to take them back and exchange them for their own military merits and rewards.

Once these truths came out, everyone understood the cause and effect. It was simply that the Guanning border army over in Liaoxi was completely suppressed by the Jianzhou Jurchen. Every time they fought, they retreated and lost territory. Yet the Zhao Army had won such a great victory, making them look utterly incompetent. Even the imperial court kept reprimanding them. In the past, they would probably have already threatened mutiny to get their way, but now there was a large army stationed in North Zhili, and the Zhao Army had landed in Liaodong. The central court was already prepared to abandon Liaodong and was not afraid of them crossing into the passes to mutiny — so why pay them any mind? As a result, the supply of military pay and provisions was no longer as prioritized as before.

From being the apple of the court's eye, they had suddenly become a faction stranded between two sides with no one to lean on. How could they bear such terror and loss? Not to mention that they had been spoiled and fattened by huge sums of silver for years; once supplies ran short, their reaction was all the more intense.

There were rumors that the Liaoxi military clique was currently wracked by fierce infighting, split into several factions. Some wanted to defect to the Jianzhou Jurchen, some wanted to defect to the Zhao Army, and some still wanted to be loyal to the Great Ming. It was said that some even thought of declaring independence, but Liaoxi simply could not sustain itself, so this faction's voice was very weak.

As these truths were continuously exposed, it was a complete mess of dirty laundry, leaving the Liaoxi military clique utterly disgraced. They themselves were baffled — they had spent silver and manpower to spread rumors, so how had they failed to slander the other side, and instead had all their own secrets dragged into the open?

Some vaguely guessed that the Xuzhou power was manipulating things behind the scenes. Once they guessed this, all the suspicion and rumors vanished like smoke. They could only sigh that the capable were capable of anything — not just drilling troops and doing business, but even spreading counter-rumors so powerfully.

Once the rumors dissipated, only one sober and clear-headed judgment remained: could the Zhao Army on the Liaonan Peninsula hold out until the following year? As things stood, it did not inspire optimism in any way.

There was yet another voice: with over ten thousand troops isolated across the sea, if the man commanding them harbored any thoughts of independence, or simply wanted to preserve himself, once winter came it might be impossible to rein him in. This hidden danger also warranted attention.

Ma Chonghao's Intelligence Bureau collected quite a bit of news like this and sent it all back to Xuzhou via top-secret encrypted urgent dispatches. Then it was like stones sinking into the ocean — no word came back. Only months later did a verbal message from Zhao Jin arrive: "Do something useful." Everyone understood how to handle it.

"Second Master, from the time Xuzhou raised its troops until now, every major battle and every victory has been fought and won by you personally. Now here in Liaodong, these ten thousand-plus crack troops are all your direct, personal followers, Second Master. This is the capital to achieve great things!"

The man who said this was also of Liaodong origin, but he had not come over to their side in Liaodong — he had joined them back in Shandong. He had once been an advisor to a certain Assistant Regional Commander and was now doing clerical work in Chen Sheng's division headquarters. This man was very methodical in his work and was quite highly regarded.

Only Chen Sheng and this man were in the room. The man spoke very slowly and earnestly. Chen Sheng was wiping his long saber, his face expressionless as usual.

"As long as we can take Liaoyang and rally the Jianzhou Jurchen and the Liaoxi Ming troops to our cause, in an instant we would have a host of a hundred thousand, a million able-bodied civilians, and a thousand li of territory. This is the foundation of an imperial enterprise. Second Master, this is a heaven-sent golden opportunity!"

"Everyone else hasn't even begun to consider matters beyond Gaizhou Guard, and here you are already talking about Liaoyang. Are you really that confident in the Zhao Army?" Chen Sheng asked.

"Second Master, how could I not be confident? Our cannon, our firelocks, our elite troops — they are enough to sweep across the realm unopposed. In the past, this student thought the Tatar slaves were fierce and mighty, that they were tigers and wolves. Only today do I realize I was a frog at the bottom of a well. Before the Zhao Army, they are at best pigs and dogs — and even that is flattering them."

Chen Sheng looked at the advisor and shook his head. "Are you finished?" he asked.

The advisor sensed something was wrong, but then he saw Chen Sheng make a hand signal. From behind a screen at the back, three men dressed as ordinary soldiers emerged. One of them held a hard-tipped pen specially made in Xuzhou; the paper in his hand was filled with writing. The soldier brought the paper to Chen Sheng, who skimmed it briefly, stamped it with his personal seal, and then someone else brought an iron box. The paper was placed inside, and the box's seams were sealed with wax before the men bowed and withdrew.

Seeing this scene, the advisor's face turned the color of earth, and his body trembled as if sifting chaff. He dropped straight to his knees, his lips quivering, unable even to utter a plea for his life.

"I won't kill you. When the sea opens again next year, someone will take this confession and you together to Xuzhou."

"Second Master, do not forget the lesson of Han Xin! When the birds are gone, the good bow is put away. When the realm is at peace, that will be your final day, Second Master! This magnificent opportunity, this realm and its altars delivered right to your door..." The advisor suddenly found a surge of energy, his face full of indignation, full of resentment at having misjudged his man, and he began shouting.

The soldiers about to step forward and seize him all subconsciously took a step back, afraid that Chen Sheng would draw his long saber and cut the man down — Second Master's draw was truly like a thunderbolt. Unexpectedly, Chen Sheng merely looked at the advisor, shook his head, sighed, and said, "You think you're clever, but you're actually very stupid."