Chapter 592: Li Yongfang

"... You're saying those Jurchen raiders sortied sixty thousand troops all at once?" Wang Youshan sat before his writing desk. Sheets of letter paper covered in writing were stacked to one side, and beneath his brush yet another sheet was already half-filled with words.

The person he was questioning was that Uncle He from a military background. Uncle He stood to the side with hands at his sides, nodded, and answered, "The word from the Ministry of War is reliable. They say the Jurchens fielded sixty thousand in a single force, while the martyred Brigade General Zhang had just over ten thousand troops in total, and even those were split into several columns. Fushun's garrison numbered fewer than four thousand, and they surrendered early on."

Hearing this, the deeply solemn Wang Youshan could not help but exhale in relief. A relaxed expression actually appeared on his face, and he nodded repeatedly as he said, "Just as I thought, just as I thought. Sixty thousand against ten thousand — and those ten thousand scattered across four different positions. How could they not have won? That Zhang Chengyin truly was without courage or strategy. And these Jurchens, it seems, only prevail by weight of numbers — they can't be counted as particularly elite or formidable."

These days Uncle He had not had a moment's leisure. Every morning he went to the Ministry of War and kept watch there. This behavior was not unusual — the censors of the Chief Surveillance Bureau, in order to get information and have something to say in their memorials, all sent their servants and attendants to keep watch at the Ministry of War, using their connections to gather news.

The Wang household was a little different from the others. Each time they were able to obtain military intelligence passed on by Zhang Qinghai's trusted aides, as well as all manner of reports on the situation in Liaodong. In any case, the two families were on close terms, and these matters were merely the effort of lifting a hand.

"Master, I hear that the Jurchens committed everything they had this time as well — nearly all their able-bodied men took the field. That's how they scraped together a number just over sixty thousand," Uncle He added.

At this, Wang Youshan actually laughed aloud. Laughing and shaking his head, he said, "A petty little state — that's all the manpower they have. They gained an advantage this time and fought with everything they had just to achieve this result. Committing everything they had only yielded sixty thousand — truly not worth mentioning. Think of our Great Ming, with troops numbering in the millions. If we wanted to prevail by numbers, we could simply bury them under sheer mass."

Uncle He studied Wang Youshan's expression. He found it a little strange. These past days his master had been deeply troubled. Why had just a few simple sentences put his master so at ease? Uncle He, who had trained in the military himself, felt differently about Wang Youshan's assessment. But after thinking it over, he still held his tongue.

Wang Youshan's brush flew. In no time he finished the letter — by now it was no longer a mere family letter; it looked more like a book, a thick stack of letter paper. Wang Youshan sealed the letter and handed it to Uncle He, saying, "Send it back to Xuzhou by fast horse. This is a matter of grave importance. Make the trip yourself."

The seventeenth day of the fourth month, the forty-sixth year of the Wanli reign. The parapets of Fushun City, Liaodong.

"Master, ex... except for our own household guards, so many... so many aren't coming..." A servant in a black cap and plain clothes stammered, trembling.

"Those ungrateful, heartless bastards," the big man addressed as "Master" cursed bitterly.

The big man was tall and powerfully built, true enough, but he had already grown somewhat stout, with a thick waist and belly. He wore no armor, only a red official robe with a tiger rank badge, which fit him rather snugly.

This man was none other than Li Yongfang, Mobile Corps Commander of Liaodong Garrison, charged with defending Fushun. If one overlooked his rank badge, few would have taken him for a high-ranking military officer. Li Yongfang's exposed head, face, and hands were all quite fair and pale — he had the look of a man who lived a pampered life.

Li Yongfang's gaze darted about. His forehead was covered in sweat, but he had no mind to wipe it. The Jianzhou Jurchens had come with such overwhelming momentum that there was no chance of them being discovered only once they were at the city walls. In fact, as soon as day broke, the guards on the walls had spotted the vast host on the horizon and raised the alarm at once. The city gates were shut, and the whole city went on full alert.

Looking down at the banners of every color below the walls, and at the various siege engines being prepared as timber was felled, Li Yongfang staggered behind the crenellations. Had his trusted men not steadied him, he would have collapsed right there.

"Master, let's fight them to the death!" one of Li Yongfang's bodyguards said in a gruff voice.

As a Mobile Corps Commander holding a key city, Li Yongfang had over four hundred household guards and personal retainers. Only a military officer in the Liaodong region could command so many. In the Southern Metropolitan Region, a Mobile Corps Commander with two hundred personal guards would already be considered exceptional.

These household guards and retainers were gathered around Li Yongfang. Hearing the bodyguard speak, Li Yongfang slowly turned his head to look at the man and asked through gritted teeth, "What did you say?"

"Master, let's fight those Tartars to the death!" the retainer shouted. Household guards and retainers were men fed full with their master's silver — they were bound by a code of shared life and death. Now that the Jurchen host had besieged the city, the defending commander was expected to die with his city, and the household guards and retainers would naturally die fighting alongside him.

Among the four hundred-odd household guards below the city wall, only a handful wore expressions of resolve. The rest were all in a state of panic.

Li Yongfang stared at that bodyguard for a while. The bodyguard grew uneasy under that stare, not knowing what he had done wrong. Li Yongfang lifted his foot and kicked him, sending him sprawling to the ground. Pointing at him, he cursed furiously, "Are you that eager to die? Don't drag your old man down to die with you!"

A hush fell around them. Li Yongfang's pent-up emotions seemed to have found an outlet. Without caring about anything else, he pointed and roared, "Didn't you see that no one's coming? Outside the city there are tens of thousands, a hundred thousand men! All I've got in my hands is you lot — the only ones who can fight. But every single one of those Jurchen savages out there can fight. You want me to lead a few hundred of you against tens of thousands outside the city? Are you tired of living?"

"You lot — spending every day drinking and whoring — you want to fight those Jurchens out there? You think I don't know what your 'hunting' is really about? Every time it's just stuff you snatched back at the market. Worthless trash like you, and you still think about fighting to the death!" Li Yongfang bellowed.

After some difficulty, once his rage had subsided a little, one of his trusted aides asked quietly, "Commander, trying to break out now would probably be trouble too. Even if the brothers shielded you as we charged, we likely wouldn't escape. The Jurchens might even have mounted Mongols with them..."

"You think I don't know that? Spare me your noise." Li Yongfang waved his hand irritably.

Just then, a squad commander came running up from the battlements at a quick pace. Reaching Li Yongfang, he said breathlessly, "Commander, the Tartars outside are shouting for us to surrender. They say if we surrender, everything will remain as before. If not, they won't leave even a chicken or a dog alive."

At the word "surrender," some of the household guards were about to flare up on the spot. But before they could act, they saw Li Yongfang remain silent, and for a moment they could not very well speak up. Those standing closest said quietly, "Commander, a city as big as ours — it's not so easy to take. We've got enough grain. We can hold out until reinforcements come..."

Li Yongfang, Mobile Corps Commander of Fushun, nodded slowly. After another moment of silence, he spoke: "You go back and keep watch first. Report back the moment there's any news. There'll be a heavy reward afterward!"

The squad commander was somewhat baffled, but he still acknowledged the order, turned, and ran back. The few men closest to Li Yongfang, however, all caught the tremor in their commander's voice. They exchanged glances but said nothing.

"Pull back farther. Pull back farther." Li Yongfang gave only this order.

The words had barely left his mouth when a deafening roar rose from outside the city — shouts like a landslide and a tidal wave. Then, from atop the city wall, came a heart-rending scream: "The Tartars are attacking the city!"

Li Yongfang shuddered all over, then hastily turned around. He felt that being too close to the wall was unsafe — better to pull back farther. Fushun City was one of the major cities of Liaodong Garrison. No matter how fierce the Jianzhou Jurchens were in battle, they wouldn't take it so easily.

He had walked only a few dozen paces when a household guard beside him shouted at the top of his lungs, "Commander! The Tartars are on the wall!"

So fast — already on the wall? Li Yongfang, Mobile Corps Commander of Fushun, was instantly horrified. How much time had passed? Had they simply set their scaling ladders against the wall and climbed straight up?

He turned his head to look. Solid-colored banners were already flying atop the wall. Men were falling from the battlements with terrible screams, smashing into the ground to their deaths. Now even the retainers who had just spoken of fighting to the death fell silent. Every man's face was ashen. They all knew the Jianzhou Jurchens were formidable in the field, but who could have imagined they would be so fearsome in a siege as well?

Just then, they saw a man come stumbling and lurching down, half-running, half-falling toward them. Li Yongfang's household guards tensed and drew their weapons, but the man chasing toward them was only the squad commander who had brought the earlier report.

"C-Commander... Guard Commander Wang is dead in battle. The Tartars cut him down the moment they got onto the wall..." The squad commander's voice trembled. Though there were bloodstains on his clothes, they did not seem to be from his own wounds. He must have run fast, and this time he had again used delivering a report as an excuse to flee down from the wall.

Li Yongfang said nothing. As a fellow military officer, he had never seen eye to eye with this Guard Commander Wang Mingyin. In a blessed place for martial men like Liaodong Garrison, instead of enjoying life and making a fortune, the man had gone on about repairing military readiness. And now? What had come of it?

"Commander..." Someone called out to him, but Li Yongfang did not hear a thing. The household guards around him were growing anxious, exchanging glances. They were thinking that when the city fell, they would have to shield their master and get him out first. But his wife, children, old and young, and his vast household estate inside the city — those would likely have to be abandoned.

The sounds of battle and slaughter atop the wall grew fiercer. More and more soldiers were fleeing down from the battlements. Why should they fight to the death? Day in and day out they tilled the land and paid grain and taxes, never receiving a single coin themselves, struggling just to feed their families. Why should they now have to fight the Tartars to the death? Even if they were captured, life might not be worse than what they had now.

The situation was on the verge of becoming irretrievable. The head of Li Yongfang's household guards behind him barked an order, and several men stepped forward to seize him and drag him away.

At that very moment, Li Yongfang's body trembled. He suddenly shouted, "We surrender! We surrender!"

The moment those words left his mouth, everyone froze. In an instant, silence fell. Every man present relaxed. Li Yongfang, however, did not notice this. He simply kept shouting at the top of his lungs: "There are a hundred thousand Jianzhou Jurchens outside! How many can we have inside the city? The only ones who can fight are us! If we few hundred go out to fight, it's certain death! If we don't surrender, all these common folk in the city will be slaughtered — how terrible would that be? I hear that old slave — no, no — I hear that the Great Khan of the Jin Kingdom, Nurhaci, is a great hero, wise and brilliant. If we go over, we certainly won't be treated poorly! Don't you agree? Don't you agree?!"

Sweat streamed down Li Yongfang's face, his complexion deathly pale. He spoke at the top of his lungs, listing all the benefits of surrender. He had no confidence at all; he was merely enumerating every reason he could think of, trying to get everyone to agree to this proposal of surrender.

Thanks to the two old friends "Yuan Heng Li Zhen" and "123*" for their tips. Thank you all for your subscriptions and monthly tickets. Please continue your support.