Chapter 1439

This kind of padded cotton armor offered decent protection — it could stop a frontal slash or arrow, but not a spear thrust or the smash of a heavy weapon. In truth, Ming army cotton armor followed the same specifications, only it was made with utter carelessness, cutting corners and skimping on materials, so that in the end the cotton armor was just a padded jacket — and even then the cotton filling was often short of the required amount. Compared to the meticulous craftsmanship of the Jianzhou Jurchens, the protective power was naturally worlds apart.

Yet this fine cotton armor, compared to the standard-issue iron armor of the Zhao family army, was again worlds apart. The Zhao family army's iron armor was light and easy to wear, with even more outstanding protection — blades, arrows, and spears could do nothing against it. To breach it required heavy weapons in close combat. What astounded the Jianzhou Jurchens even more was that even firelocks could not penetrate it at a slightly longer range. Armor like this could well be called a treasure-grade harness.

So when the armor reached Shenyang, everyone marveled at it and then considered copying it, only to discover that it was not that the Jianzhou craftsmen could not make it, but that producing a single suit would consume the materials and man-hours of several dozen suits of cotton armor. Cotton armor had always been issued only to the Jianzhou elite, because it was already quite troublesome to manufacture, and this Xuzhou iron armor was several dozen times more so. To say nothing else, just the high-grade wrought iron alone would require an enormous outlay — it simply was not worth copying.

Nurhaci had skilled artisans repair the dents and scratches on the Xuzhou iron armor with gold and silver ornamentation, then bestowed it upon the beile below him, to be kept as heirlooms passed down through the generations.

Of course, the Jianzhou Jurchens had also gathered intelligence on the Zhao family army's equipment details. Over eighty percent of Zhao Jin's main force was outfitted with this kind of iron armor. No one would believe this report — it was simply too unbelievable. People, by nature, measure others by themselves; there is a limit to how far ahead or behind others can be. For instance, the Jianzhou knew the scale of the Great Ming and the Mongols, and thus had a rough standard for how far ahead or behind they themselves were. But the Zhao family army had already surpassed all reason.

A mere patch of land like Xuzhou — even though it held such gold-and-silver mines of wealth as Qingjiangpu and Haizhou, those places had been sending grain and pay to the Great Ming all along, meaning Xuzhou had not taken much for itself. So how had these tens of thousands of iron armor suits come into being? Had they materialized out of thin air?

The Jianzhou Jurchens had heard too many legends of this sort. Years ago they had heard many about the Liao garrison and the Ming army, only to encounter them and discover they were far from what the rumors claimed. Xuzhou was surely the same.

There was an even wilder rumor that back in the day, Zhao Jin of Xuzhou had used bamboo and wood to make protective gear, leading some to speculate that the tens of thousands of Xuzhou armor suits were probably just that.

It was only now, having witnessed the mountain-like, sea-vast stores of supplies of the Zhao family army, that they began to half-believe the claim of tens of thousands of iron armor suits — though they still dared not fully believe it. Yet their covetousness had soared. In the minds of the Jianzhou Jurchens, high and low, if the fierce soldiers of the Jianzhou Jurchens were paired with these possibly-existent fine iron armors, they could truly rampage across the world, fearing nothing.

After Amin led his troops to Gaizhou Garrison City, several probing attacks had all suffered setbacks at the hands of the Zhao family army. On the eve of the great battle, everyone from Amin on down was heavy-hearted. But after Amin rapped on his armor and spoke these words, the somber looks in the men's eyes were swept away, replaced by burning, greedy expressions.

To hell with great righteousness, loyalty, and filial piety — only when profit lies ahead will every man vie to be first. Thinking of the Zhao family army's mountain-like, sea-vast supplies, their hearts grew hotter and hotter. They had to fight a bloody battle anyway; if they won, they would strike it rich!

They were not arrogant, nor were they mad. They had fought wars for so many years. Although the last few years had been smooth sailing, when Nurhaci and Šurhaci, the two brothers, had risen to power at the head of their troops, it had been bloody death-struggles from start to finish. And many of the colonels and company commanders now leading the troops had lived through those years.

No matter how arrogant a commander, he could see that the Zhao family army before him would not be easy to fight. Tanggūdai, a bastard son of the Great Khan, had held nearly ten thousand troops in his hands — had they not been devoured clean? However useless and bear-like Tanggūdai might have been, he had still fought blade-to-blade, sword-to-sword, and the slaves under him were no pushovers either, yet they had met the same miserable end.

This time would certainly be hard fighting. Even with such a huge numerical advantage and an unprecedented mobilization of ten thousand cavalry, they might win, but the casualties among those who fought would surely be horrific. Everyone could see the enemy's imposing display across the field. To say nothing else, that neat and orderly formation, those vast stores of supplies — just looking at them made one's heart quail. Facing an opponent like the Zhao family army, it might well be oneself who fell dead or wounded, while the merit was taken by others.

But what if they did not fight? Amin and Jirgalang, the two brothers, held the military-law mandate. The old Khan in Shenyang and the beile also had their military law. If they themselves hesitated to advance, not only would their own lives be forfeit, but their families and kin would likely suffer along with them.

They had to fight. They had to fight to the death. Warriors long accustomed to licking blood off their blades would not dwell on ill omens. Everyone subconsciously turned their thoughts to the bright side — thinking of the spoils, thinking of the profit. The more they thought, the more they believed it, whether truly or falsely. Besides, that armor and those vast stores of supplies were indeed fine things. When the Jianzhou Jurchens had first risen, in the very beginning, it was not about seizing the realm or restoring the glory of the Great Jin — it was about plundering wealth, goods, and women, then distributing them according to military merit. They had come to get rich.

That was why the Jianzhou Jurchens' military-merit system was the most rigorous, and their merit rewards the most lavish — all to ensure relatively fair distribution, so the spoils were enough to make men fight to the death. Thus only the prospect of wealth could make their fighting spirit blaze, could make them overcome fear and unease, could rouse them solely for the possible gains before their eyes. They had to think this way. They could only think this way.

Rousing the troops' morale before battle was also one of the commanding general's duties. The officers, now fired up, each led their units to their positions.

However, the officers taking their positions were only those of the Bordered Blue Banner, along with the Mongol and Han auxiliaries. The officers of the Plain Red Banner, led by Yoto, did not move. Even as irascible as Amin was, his face showed no sign of taking offense.

The Jianzhou Jurchens were divided into Eight Banners, each led by the Great Khan and the various beile. The boundaries between different affiliations were strictly drawn. Amin, as the commanding general, could freely deploy the troops of his own Bordered Blue Banner and the attached Mongol and Han auxiliaries, but he could not bypass Yoto to command the Plain Red Banner troops that Yoto led.

"Yoto, you will attack the enemy's flank. These Han dogs are fewer than us, and their formation is dense — they can't spare many men to resist. The moment you reach their flank, they will fall into chaos," Amin instructed him separately.

From the various reports coming from inside the Pass, everyone could see that the Zhao family army was not particularly versed in military doctrine or tactical formations, but they could also see that the Zhao family army's ability in a head-on hard fight was extremely strong. Sending Yoto to the flank was already a tremendous favor to him and his troops.

Yoto did not answer immediately. Amin's brow furrowed a little more, but he continued, "The snow on the mountain side is indeed difficult going, but it is not impassable. If you lead your troops over, it will be a great merit. Those Han dogs only have so many troops. With the mountains and sea now sealed off, can they pull some trick out of thin air?"

After another moment of silence, a colonel of the Plain Red Banner stepped forward and whispered a few words. Only then did Yoto nod and say, "Please rest assured, Uncle Amin. My troops accept the order!"

Yoto and the Plain Red Banner officers also departed. Amin and Jirgalang exchanged a glance. At this point, Amin said coldly, "At that age, he's already leading the Bordered Red Banner. We nephews just can't compare to the grandsons."

The Bordered Blue Banner had its own staff and eyes-and-ears in Shenyang. Not long ago, confirmed news had come by fast horse from there: the Great Khan Nurhaci and the other beile had decided to give the Bordered Red Banner to Yoto to command. Although Yoto did not yet hold the title of beile, the authority of leading a banner alone was no less than that of any beile.

With this underlying factor, Amin and Jirgalang found it increasingly awkward to maneuver Yoto's force. They understood in their hearts that the Great Khan and the beile had made this arrangement partly as a consequence of Daišan's past palace scandal, but more crucially, to balance and check the Bordered Blue Banner, which was out in the field with the main army.

Having vented his grumble, Amin still possessed the qualities of a commanding general: "The key to circling around from the flank is to keep a firm grip on the troops. Yoto leading that Plain Red Banner contingent is just right for it."

Jirgalang nodded and added in agreement, "The Han dogs' cannons are formidable. This time we must put our own cannons to use. If they can have them, so can we."

"The key still lies with our cavalry!" Amin did not answer directly, only muttered this one line.

By now the battlefield had grown clamorous. Unit after unit of troops marched out of the encampment to take their positions, and in the zone between the two armies' lines there was a constant back-and-forth.

Because both sides had imposed a blockade beforehand, and had done so relatively thoroughly, the Zhao family army and the Jianzhou Jurchen forces had only a rough idea of each other's strength, without overly detailed knowledge. On the verge of battle, everyone was putting their capital on the table; if you wanted to know the true situation, this was the best moment.

A last-minute cram is better than doing nothing at all. A great battle demands every possible precaution, and no oversight in the necessary preparations could be tolerated. So light cavalry darted back and forth, scouting and reporting on each other.

In the course of this light-cavalry back-and-forth, it was inevitable that they would clash to prove their mettle, with mounted archery and cavalry skirmishes to win a bit of glory for their own side. Whoever killed or wounded an enemy, whoever performed some brilliant feat, would draw a burst of cheers, and rewards would naturally be given out on the spot — the commanding general would not be stingy. Under such conditions, the light-cavalry scouts naturally gave their all, staking their lives on it.

But that was only the custom on the Jianzhou Jurchen side — a custom that was, in fact, also the Ming army's pre-battle habit. On the Zhao family army's side, it was simpler. Light cavalry sortied in formed units to sweep the battlefield. Facing a situation where the many struck at the few, the Jianzhou Jurchen light cavalry, who fancied they could display heroic valor, could only move in small squads. The two sides intimidated each other across the battlefield, darting back and forth, and it had already become a pattern of cavalry skirmishing.

Once they moved in formed units, they could not get too close to the enemy's positions, and the effect was much diminished.

Today's pre-battle deployment was, in a sense, an idealized sequence — everyone methodically marched out of camp, formed ranks, and then commenced battle. But this was also forced by the terrain. On this narrow battlefield between mountain and sea, once one side encamped, it practically blocked the passage, and the other side could only encamp at a certain distance away, after which both sides would march out to give battle.

In any other terrain, the fighting would have already begun. Why would anyone give the enemy time to unhurriedly form ranks?

"Division Commander, the Tartar cavalry is escorting cannons out of camp." Word had already reached Chen Sheng. The light cavalry and the watchtowers could see a great deal.