Chapter 1435: A Great Battle Always Requires Closing In to Fight

"A fierce lion pouncing on a rabbit — if you're going to fight, throw the whole army in. Ten thousand cavalry alone don't amount to much, but if you commit them all at once, the power is like mountains crumbling and the earth splitting!"

Once the conclusion was reached, the main camp at Gaizhou Fortress immediately tensed up. Watching plays, listening to music, and drinking were all strictly forbidden; any violator would face military law. Everyone began preparing for battle, and supplies were requisitioned and dispatched at an accelerated pace.

At this juncture, even Amin, who harbored no shortage of his own schemes, began focusing entirely on battle preparations. He vaguely sensed that if the fight ahead was mishandled, never mind his own family's wealth and status — the entire grand enterprise of the Jianzhou Jurchens might well collapse. Amin could still distinguish what mattered most from what mattered least.

The weather grew ever colder. On the western coast of the Liaonan Peninsula, heavy snow fell with unusual frequency. This was hardly a suitable time for campaigning; even the Jianzhou troops, long accustomed to bitter cold and hardship, found the freezing conditions hard to endure.

At this moment, Amin and Jirgalang still harbored a sliver of wishful thinking: they hoped the Zhao army would pursue their victory, marching north from Fuzhou City, crossing that stretch of hilly terrain, and that the two sides would fight a great battle with the area around Xiongyue Post Station as the battlefield.

If the battlefield were set there, then the Zhao army would stretch their own supply lines, suffer more losses from frostbite, while their own forces could wait at ease for the exhausted enemy.

For the moment, the Zhao army seemed to be leaning that way — otherwise they wouldn't have sent a large wagon convoy north; perhaps they intended to set up camp and prepare.

However, as scouting riders and reconnaissance patrols gathered intelligence, Amin and Jirgalang realized that their plan was likely to come to nothing. The Zhao army showed not the slightest inclination to move north; instead, they were diligently consolidating their position around Fuzhou City.

The overland route from Korea's Tieshan Commandery to Jinzhou and Lüshun had now been opened. The Jianzhou Jurchens had never effectively controlled this area. Many of the soldiers and civilians who had come over to join them had countless ties to the Dongjiang Garrison and were relatively trustworthy. The Zhao army's main camp at Fuzhou mobilized these people to fell trees for firewood, construct temporary fortifications, and the like — the work proceeded with fiery enthusiasm.

The Jianzhou Jurchens did not want to wait, nor could they afford to. They needed to annihilate Chen Sheng's Zhao army detachment as quickly as possible and drive them back into the sea. If they waited like this until spring arrived and the sea lanes opened, large quantities of supplies and reinforcements would be shipped in by sea vessels, making the fight far harder thereafter. However difficult the Zhao army's naval power was for the Jianzhou Jurchens to comprehend, they could still recognize its terrifying implications. This was nearly twenty thousand troops transported across the sea, to say nothing of the mountain-like, sea-vast quantities of supplies. If they were given another chance to ship more over, how much more would arrive? Wouldn't the fight be even harder then?

They had to strike the enemy a heavy blow while the sea was frozen and the weather bitter — at the very least, sever one of their arms. This was the choice the Jianzhou Jurchens had to make, and the only choice.

By this point, Amin, Jirgalang, and even Nurhaci and the other beile in Shenyang realized that many of their judgments about the Zhao army had been wrong, or had been taken for granted. For instance, they had assumed Chen Sheng was ruled by emotion, eager to prove himself and win glory, and would swagger north after a few minor victories, placing himself in an unfavorable battlefield and at a disadvantageous time. In reality, the Zhao army was far more composed than the Jianzhou Jurchens. They had not moved at all, merely countering each provocation and probe with cool precision.

For the Jianzhou Jurchen main army at Gaizhou Fortress, there were no other options. The Zhao army could afford to wait; they could not. As winter grew colder, it also meant spring drew nearer. The time left to them was already running short. Once the snowfields thawed into mire and the army's baggage train could no longer move, this battle could not be fought at all — which would mean the Zhao army could send even more troops and supplies by sea, leading to an even more difficult situation.

Since the Zhao army would not fight, the Jianzhou Jurchen main army had no choice but to move first and seek battle. Amin, Jirgalang, and Yoto issued a succession of military orders: three thousand cavalry and four thousand infantry would advance first, securing the hilly region most prone to ambushes and blockades, holding every road junction; then the main army would strike camp and set out.

The Jianzhou Jurchens knew they could not conceal this. Although the cavalry units maintained a tight cordon around the area, such large-scale movement could not possibly be hidden from scouts. If the Zhao army met them head-on and blocked their advance at this moment, the two sides would end up in an ugly fight.

Yet according to the scouts' reports, in the area from the hilly region to Fuzhou City, aside from light cavalry activity, the Zhao army made no large-scale troop movements.

Was this a case of waiting in full battle array, or simple sluggishness? Even the Jianzhou Jurchens' most battle-hardened commanders could not tell. But at this stage, no matter what the enemy was thinking, the Jianzhou Jurchen main army could only proceed according to its own plan.

If the Zhao army mounted no blocking or interdiction attacks throughout, the initial main camp would be established at Wushizhai Post Station, with guards set at the road junctions on the southern edge of the hilly region to secure the line of retreat.

The passage through the hilly region was the most nerve-wracking part. Soldiers were even sent ahead to fell trees along both sides of the marching route, lest the main army be attacked with fire. For an army of this scale, if dense smoke threw the ranks into chaos, it would be an immense catastrophe.

The Jianzhou Jurchen main army passed through this region without incident. When they entered the flatlands and gazed out upon the vast snowy wilderness, everyone from top to bottom breathed a sigh of relief. Yet they were also puzzled: what exactly was the Zhao army thinking? Were they really just going to sit and watch? In a great battle like this, every single victory or defeat determined the final outcome. Shouldn't they be setting up layer after layer of defenses and harassment, denying the enemy any smooth progress?

Still, this behavior matched what the intelligence reports had said: the Zhao army seemed to know nothing of military strategy and fought entirely according to their own methods, relying on nothing more than the deadliness of their firearms. Such naivete and ignorance were bound to cost them dearly. But everyone kept such thoughts buried deep in their hearts now; no one dared voice them openly. You say the Zhao army is naive, yet your own cavalry has already lost nearly two thousand men, and the enemy remains undefeated. So what if they're naive? Winning is what counts.

When they neared Wushizhai Post Station — or rather, from the moment they emerged from the hilly region — Zhao army light cavalry appeared in the vicinity. But these light cavalry kept their distance, never engaging the Jurchen and Mongol riders in duels or skirmishes. They seemed solely intent on observing the main army's movements. Because they stayed so far away, even if one wanted to send men to hunt them down, it was impossible, and there was also the worry that one's own troops might fall into an enemy trap.

Wushizhai Post Station had long since become an empty town. Fortunately, the Zhao army had not damaged this modest brick fort, so it could still barely serve as a camp.

The Jianzhou Jurchen main army now faced many hidden dangers, the supply route being one. Provisions had to set out from Gaizhou Fortress, be stockpiled and transshipped at Xiongyue Post Station, then pass through the hilly region and travel several dozen li before reaching the forward battle camp at Wushizhai Post Station. Grain and fodder could only be transported by ox- and horse-drawn wagons. Along this route, there were many places where an ambush or interdiction could strike; even a small force placed in the hilly region could inflict enormous damage. If the supply route were severed, panic would spread, and there would be no point in discussing chances of victory — one would have to consider how to withdraw intact.

The seasoned Jianzhou Jurchen commanders had their own arrangements for this. In fact, every location vulnerable to ambush and interdiction was a trap within a trap. Nearly ten thousand Jurchen and Mongol cavalry were divided into several large contingents, ready at any moment to reinforce and counterattack. If the enemy dared to come, they would certainly be dealt a punishing blow.

Beyond this, Amin and Jirgalang also dispatched special envoys back to Shenyang. If a single misstep led to the supply route truly being severed, the stockpiles here could still sustain them for half a month. Within that half month, one of the three — Daišan, Hong Taiji, or Manggūltai — would personally lead a large army to break through and reopen the supply line.

Only after making these preparations did the Jianzhou troops preparing for the great battle with the Zhao army at Fuzhou feel they had secured their rear.

Yet despite all their preparations, the Zhao army on the other side still did nothing but observe their progress with light cavalry scouts, showing no inclination toward harassment, interdiction, or ambush. Could it be that they truly did not understand, or were simply naive? When they moved, they aroused much suspicion; now that they barely moved at all, everyone was utterly baffled. Marching and fighting are matters of life and death — how could anyone be so utterly inactive?

Once everything was stabilized and it was confirmed that the main camp would be established at Wushizhai Post Station, the battlefield could also be identified. Everyone knew that, barring the unexpected, the battlefield would be on the broad expanse between Yongning Fortress and Fuzhou City.

Before the central army under Amin and Jirgalang reached Wushizhai Post Station, they had already dispatched Yoto to lead a forced march and seize Yongning Fortress first.

Yongning Fortress and Wushizhai Post Station were less than ten li apart — they could be said to serve as mutual horns and gateways. Occupying only one of the two would be pointless and would instead give the Zhao army a suitable foothold as well. Only by holding both could they force the Zhao army to camp out in the open field. In such bitterly cold, biting winds, camping in the open would carry enormous risks.

Throughout this process, the Jianzhou Jurchens' various scouts poured out in full force. This time, no one dared to seek glory by rash advances; every man diligently gathered intelligence and reported back.

Inside and outside Fuzhou City, the bustle was fiery hot. Every day, large quantities of firewood were carried into the camp, and daily drills braving the wind and snow could be observed. All this intelligence was relayed back to Amin, leaving the Jurchen commanders somewhat puzzled: was the Zhao army not afraid of frostbite?

"The Tatars can't imagine just how wealthy we are. All they've seen is Shenyang and Liaoyang — at most, their spies have been as far as Jiangnan. How could they possibly conceive of our Xuzhou's strength?" Chen Sheng explained simply to his subordinates.

Lu Da, Bayin, and the others took this as a matter of course, but those from the Dongjiang Garrison and the native Liaodong contingent were utterly dumbstruck — either they had never witnessed such things, or what they had learned while in Shandong had been far from complete.

Even ordinary soldiers had proper padded coats and caps. Every meal had no shortage of oil and salt, and they could eat their fill. Firewood was supplied without restriction, so keeping warm was no problem for anyone. Even the livestock were well cared for.

Chen Jisheng and Zhang Pan had already prepared for the worst. If the wind, snow, and freezing weather arrived and the Zhao army was harmed by the cold, they would lead the Zhao army along the coastline toward Korea, settling the main army on the eastern bank of the Yalu River and the line around Pi Island, using Korean dwellings to house the troops. There had even been scattered desertions — men who had returned from Shandong to Liaodong believed the Zhao army could not survive this winter and, to avoid being caught in a catastrophic collapse, fled in advance.