Chapter 296: Assault and Defense Before the City

Another dozen or so people came over to join up, but this time Zhao Jin did not accept them. Instead, he cursed them angrily and drove them away, because these were all youths under fifteen, their heads purely addled by hot blood. This little interlude drew a burst of laughter from the ranks and lightened the mood considerably.

Yet as they walked on, Dong Bingfeng's expression grew uglier and uglier. Among the allied forces Zhao Jin had estimated beforehand, the most reliable had been the Xuzhou Guard. Though most of the men there were farmers, the proportion who practiced martial arts was much higher, many were skilled with bow and horse, and their discipline was decent too.

No matter how you looked at it, if the men from the Guard were coming, they should have arrived long ago. But at this moment, there was not a single figure in sight.

"They definitely didn't dare come out — holed up inside playing turtle," the normally low-key Dong Bingfeng said angrily.

After saying this, he turned to Zhao Jin, his face full of guilt, and said, "Big Brother, I failed to handle this matter properly. I've let everyone down!"

"There's nothing to let down. The Guard has the old, the weak, women, and children too — they need people to protect them. Besides, our Zhao Camp was always going to go on our own. Whether anyone comes with us or not, we go ourselves!" Zhao Jin answered in a clear, ringing voice. Only then did Dong Bingfeng's expression ease a little.

Just then, a rider came galloping fast from the distance. Ji Xiang, walking beside Zhao Jin, said with a laugh, "Big Brother, looks like more people up ahead are coming to join—"

Halfway through, Ji Xiang corrected himself: "It's the eldest of the three Qi brothers, and he's coming from the direction of the city!"

When Zhao Jin was rising in He Village, the great host of refugees west of Xuzhou city were also waking. They were not roused by noise, nor by hunger, but by the smell of food — like grain, and perhaps even meat...

The day before, the refugees had swept through and plundered the villages around Xuzhou's walls. Everyone had managed to eat a little something. After all these many days, no one had ever eaten their fill, so that tiny bit of food did nothing at all; it only made the hunger burn fiercer. Now, smelling such a rich aroma, it was as if a fire had been lit in their bellies.

They struggled to their feet and saw that, at some unknown moment, large cauldrons had been set up among the various refugee bands. These iron cauldrons were likely taken from those villages yesterday. Fires blazed beneath them, and from the cauldrons wafted wave after wave of fragrance.

Food! Many jolted awake from their stupor. Their first reaction was to charge over and grab a mouthful before anyone else could take it. But the moment they rushed up to those cauldrons, they were immediately beaten back. Some charged so frantically that they refused to retreat even under the blows — and the men beside the cauldrons drew their blades.

Screams rang out, and blood flowed across the ground. The starving refugees were terrified into submission. Only then did everyone notice the able-bodied men with blades standing guard by the cauldrons. Some of these guards were of refugee origin themselves — they had been chosen by those "kind-hearted" incense heads, and normally got to eat a bit better. Now, one could still see traces of food at the corners of their mouths; they had clearly already eaten their fill earlier.

Though they all came from bitter backgrounds, and some were even fellow villagers or relatives, these able-bodied men of refugee stock showed not the slightest mercy. They simply guarded those cauldrons.

No matter how crazed the starving refugees became, their desire to eat was ultimately a desire to stay alive. Under the threat of death, no one dared act out of line.

"Maitreya's mercy! We've brought everything we could get our hands on. Don't make trouble, everyone — one bowl of gruel per person!" those "kind-hearted" message leaders shouted.

It was impossible for there to be no trouble. The refugees simply swarmed forward, pushing and grabbing, shoving and brawling with one another, cursing and wailing. No matter how chaotic it got outside, the inside paid no heed. Anyone who entered that perimeter and failed to follow the rules was immediately met with clubs, staves, or even swords.

Amid the uproar and turmoil, the refugees finished their "breakfast" — one bowl of gruel per person. The gruel was actually made of rice flour, and there even seemed to be traces of meat and grease in it. Drinking that one bowl down might give a person the strength to last a day, but it brought not the slightest feeling of fullness. On the contrary, it only made one crave even more food.

"Break open Xuzhou, eat steamed buns till we're full!"

"Break open Xuzhou, eat meat!"

The shouts began to rise one after another. These past days, the refugees had been indoctrinated daily about what would happen once they took Xuzhou — endless white-flour flatbread and stewed meat, whole families able to settle down here in peace. From Shandong all the way here, every day had been spent in hunger, every day companions had died at their sides. They had gradually grown numb, but after crossing the river, they had eaten more than before. Before, they got a meager meal only once every two or three days, yet these past two days they had gotten more food. It seemed they could feel something actually sitting in their stomachs now. This change made them believe, almost against their will.

One person shouted, ten shouted, a hundred shouted, and soon everyone was shouting along. The refugee camp west of Xuzhou city erupted into a frenzy. The crows and birds all around were startled into the sky.

"Take Xuzhou and we eat! Take Xuzhou!" everyone was roaring. Most of the refugees' faces were twisted, their eyes blazing with madness.

The commotion reached the top of Xuzhou's walls. Figures could be seen peering out from the battlements, and shadows could be seen running about in panic. White steam and smoke dust also rose from the wall — they were boiling water and heating oil.

"Maitreya's mercy! We starved in Shandong, our families starved to death at our sides — whose family hasn't lived through this? Fellow villagers, kin, fathers and mothers, husbands and wives, sons and daughters — one by one they starved to death beside us. Why must we suffer so bitterly while Xuzhou eats its fill and drinks its fill every day? Why? We refuse to accept this!" Every incense-head squad leader was howling out this tale. The refugees gathered around them listened, tears streaming down their faces, beating their chests and stamping their feet, howling back in unison: "We refuse! We refuse! Why!"

"Fill in the moat! Pile the earthbags right up to the top of the wall! We're going in! We're going in!" someone shouted, and the crowd below roared back like thunder.

On top of Xuzhou's wall, someone was cursing furiously, but it could not be heard clearly below. The noise below was simply too loud. Those on the wall could hear it, though. Someone, eyes red with rage, strained his throat raw, howling: "People starved to death in Xuzhou too! Plenty in Xuzhou had nothing to eat either! You bastards!"

"Send Xuzhou's trash forward to fill the moat! Spear any who refuse to go!" someone shouted. The over two thousand old, weak, women, and children captured the day before were shoved to the very front. Behind them were refugees holding sharpened wooden staves, viciously cursing and threatening, forcing these common folk forward.

Many bags had been prepared the night before and filled with earth. These were given to the captured Xuzhou commoners to carry on their backs, and they were ordered to go fill in the western section of the city moat.

"All of you, turn back! Come any closer and we'll shoot!" someone on the wall shouted. Another person hefted a large stone and hurled it down. The stone fell through the air and struck the moat with a tremendous splash. The captured Xuzhou commoners being driven forward immediately retreated.

A sharp, piercing scream rang out. Everyone looked over and saw a refugee with a dull, vacant expression — the tip of the sharpened wooden stave in his hand was already stained red with fresh blood. This seemed to be a signal. The refugees roared and thrust forward. The captured Xuzhou commoners collapsed one by one.

Under the threat of death, these people finally began to move forward. They reached the edge of the moat and dumped the earth from their cloth bags into the water.

The weather had been dry, the drought long. Although Xuzhou's moat had not dried up completely, only a shallow bottom remained. Bag after bag of earth was poured in, and results quickly became visible.

A flurry of shouts came from the top of the wall. Quite a few stones came whistling down, but aside from kicking up splashes in the moat, they injured no one. After all, there was still some distance between the moat and the wall itself, and the men on the wall could not throw that far.

This outcome only made those filling the moat work faster. The section of the channel being filled grew visibly narrower and narrower. The men on the wall grew increasingly frantic. They shouted as they lifted stones from behind the battlements, and some yelled for the soldiers nearby to shoot arrows down.

"Everyone stop! If you can't hit them, don't waste supplies!" Just then, Battalion Commander Wang came striding over quickly and bellowed. The agitation on the wall instantly quieted.

Battalion Commander Wang leaned out from the battlement to look down, his expression exceedingly grim. He muttered to himself, "How have these refugee bandits learned the Tartars' methods?"

After that one mutter, he turned back around and roared, "Wait until they reach the foot of the wall before you act! No shooting arrows — what damn use are these twenty-some bows of ours? Save them and wait for my order! All of you with stones and logs, remember: drop them straight down, don't throw them outward!"

At this, Battalion Commander Liang, standing nearby, also said with an ugly expression, "Crafty bandits — they actually knew to avoid the bastions. You, from the Xie family, take some men and block up the inner gate passage! Move!"

Earlier, Battalion Commander Wang had still been thinking of sallying out to break the enemy formation, but now, how could he dare go out? All he could do was block the inner gate of the barbican.

Below the wall, the refugees howled and surged forward. Behind the captured Xuzhou commoners, there was likewise a great mass of refugees carrying earth-filled bags on their backs. There were not enough cloth sacks, so many were using their own tattered clothes, leaving themselves stark naked. And further away, on slightly higher ground, Xu Hongju and a few others stood watching. Beside him, Hou Wu spoke: "The Tartars on the steppe don't have much in the way of siege equipment. They usually just ride around a city. When it comes time to attack, they go capture the nearby common folk and make them charge at the front, spending human lives to fill the moat. No one can bear to strike down their own countrymen. Below the wall, they weep; atop the wall, they weep too. Morale plummets terribly."

Xia Zhongjin, standing nearby, also spoke up: "This time we've made other preparations as well. If it comes to a direct assault, we'll have to sweep up all the people from the south bank and the neighboring areas and throw them all in together."

Xu Hongju nodded, his face stern. He reached out and traced a circle in the air before him, encompassing the great host of refugees, and said, "You're treating this rabble as if they're our own. Their lives aren't worth a single copper coin. Let them die as they please."

"Second Master, that's true enough, but this time we need to handle things properly. Don't let anyone with a sharp eye spot anything suspicious. Just let everyone think the refugees are assaulting the city out of sheer desperation. Who knows how many of these tens of thousands will be left in the end, but those who remain will surely be loyal, die-hard followers of our faith," Hou Wu said in a deep voice.

Xia Zhongjin chimed in as well: "There are quite a few promising seedlings among them — ones who dare to fight and kill. If they could be fed their fill and trained, they'd be very useful in the future."

Xu Hongju let out a cold snort of laughter and said, "The suspicious signs have been visible for a long time. Tens of thousands of refugees traveling all the way here, and even having boats to cross the river — anyone can see something's off."

"There are three hundred thousand refugees on the Huai, refugees in Xuzhou and Huai'an too, and more in Henan — all heading south in search of food. Strange as it is, it can still be explained away. Second Master, the moat should be filled level by now. It's time for people to start dying," Xia Zhongjin estimated, for in the distance, the objects hurled down from the top of the wall had suddenly grown dense.