Chapter 793: After Shenyang Comes Liaoyang

But just at that moment, a sudden commotion stirred in the rear ranks of the Jianzhou Jurchen Jin army. They were not pulling back; instead, several cavalry units swept around from both flanks, charging swiftly from the wings toward the center and driving all the way toward the rear of the pursuing Ming troops.

"This is bad! Bad!" Brigade General He Shixian only now realized something was wrong and immediately began shouting, trying to rally his soldiers. "Pull back, quickly! Pull back!"

At his shout, the personal guards and household troops around him all took up the cry, the standard-bearer close behind the commander began waving the signal flags, and the men watching the battle from the city walls also started shouting at the top of their lungs.

But it was all too late. The Ming troops who had sallied out had already cut deep into the Jianzhou Jurchen Jin army's formation, and their battle lines had spread too thin from the pursuit; the various units could not easily regroup. And just then, the Jianzhou Jurchen Jin troops who had been "fleeing in disarray" moments before suddenly wheeled around and struck back, charging at the Ming troops once more. The various divisions of the Jianzhou Jurchen Jin army surrounded the Ming soldiers in their midst.

"It's an ambush!" In an instant, that thought flashed through the minds of nearly every Ming soldier still clear-headed enough to think.

That thought was like a bucket of cold water, dousing the flames that had burned within them moments before. Thoughts of courage, battle honors, and reward money all vanished like smoke. Every man instantly realized what he had to do — run for his life!

The Ming troops on the walls of Shenyang naturally saw that the tide had turned. Another Brigade General, You Shigong, hastily led his troops out to reinforce them. The Ming soldiers already trapped in the heavy encirclement, desperate for a chance at survival, fought madly to cut their way back toward Shenyang.

Under the leadership of the two brigade generals, He Shixian and You Shigong, the two Ming forces managed to force back the Jurchen cavalry between them and barely linked up together. But then they discovered that the entire Jianzhou Jurchen Jin army had poured out of the city and was surging toward them.

Tens of thousands of men and horses roared as one and charged forward together. The sound shot straight into the clouds, as if the whole earth were trembling.

"Retreat, quickly!" Both brigade generals gave the order almost simultaneously.

The combined Ming forces charged together toward Shenyang. But earlier, thinking victory was at hand, they had run themselves ragged in pursuit without holding anything back. Now, gripped by panic and terror, their exhaustion hit them even harder — their bodies could no longer keep up. The mounted troops at the front could still run, but those at the rear could not. What was more, the Jianzhou Jurchen Jin troops kept harrying them relentlessly, making it impossible for the main body to move quickly. Not only General He's battalions, but even the relief force that had come to their aid was bogged down.

Fierce slaughter erupted anew. But this time, the Ming troops faced overwhelming odds and could only form a few small battle squares to resist the flood of the Jurchen grand army. Fighting as they retreated, they hoped to battle their way back into Shenyang.

As time passed, more and more soldiers fell, and the Ming army's ability to resist grew weaker and weaker. Yet they were drawing closer and closer to the gates of Shenyang. They had to get back quickly — otherwise, the men inside the city might well shut the gates and abandon them all outside!

Closer and closer. The gates were still open. Just as the survivors' hope for life rekindled, a new despair struck them with crushing force.

From atop the city walls came the sudden sound of fierce fighting, and then great flames erupted.

What was happening?

"No! Someone has betrayed us!" After a moment of stunned shock, Brigade General You Shigong grasped the situation. "It's the surrendered troops! It has to be those surrendered troops! Those ungrateful Tatar curs!"

But by the time he realized it, it was already too late. Right before their eyes, the fighting on the walls grew fiercer and fiercer, while the drawbridge at the gate had already been cut down by the rebel soldiers, severing the Ming troops' path of retreat back into the city.

Seeing that there was no longer any hope of withdrawing into Shenyang, You Shigong turned back around to face the pursuing Jianzhou Jurchen grand army. His eyes had gone red. By now he was covered in blood, though whether it belonged to enemies, comrades, or his own wounds, none could tell.

"Fight to the death with me!" he roared. The surviving household generals and retainers around Brigade General You Shigong showed no hesitation. With a unified battle cry, they wheeled their horses and charged together toward the Jianzhou battle lines, where they fell beneath a rain of arrows and a thicket of thrusting spears.

By this stage of the battle, the Ming army's cause was clearly lost. The scattered resistance of the few battalions outside the city was like pebbles thrown into a flowing river — they kicked up a few small ripples but were quickly swallowed by the rolling, grinding flood.

Beset by powerful foes without and rebel troops within, the Ming soldiers who had sallied out of the city were soon annihilated to the last man. In addition to the two brigade generals, He Shixian and You Shigong, a great number of Ming officers and soldiers died before the battle lines.

The blow to the Ming army was far from over.

Driven onward by Nurhaci's urgent drum and horn signals, the Jianzhou Jurchen Jin army, having crushed the Ming forces outside the city, did not pause for even a moment. They charged straight for Shenyang and soon reached the foot of the walls, where they began to scale them. The rebel soldiers acting as internal collaborators, heartened by the great victory outside, fought with ever greater ferocity and seized control of a long stretch of the wall, making the Jin army's assault all the easier. The string of defeats had shattered Ming morale, and more and more Ming soldiers, instead of fighting the enemy, turned and fled into the inner city.

Shenyang had been breached.

Soon, a great mass of Jurchen soldiers poured into Shenyang, ready to crush the Ming army's last resistance. Swarming in, the Jurchen soldiers slaughtered every living person before them, whether Ming officers and soldiers or the city's civilians, young and old. They sought joy in the killing, plundered their fortunes from the slaughter. The sounds of weeping and battle cries swiftly drowned the entire city...

In the gate tower of Shenyang's eastern gate, Nurhaci gazed out at the beacons of war and the slaughter spreading through the distant city, silent and cold. He could faintly hear the wild laughter and the agonized wails.

Everything had gone smoothly. Taking this great city was now a foregone conclusion. After one victorious siege after another, from Fushun to Qinghe Fort, Nurhaci felt no particular excitement.

Now that the city was taken, he would let his soldiers run wild for a while in killing and burning, to savor the aftertaste of victory. His army needed to vent this lust for slaughter, and could only be sustained by killing and plunder. If they couldn't enjoy themselves, how could he repay them for facing death? After breaching one Han city after another, he had always done the same, and he had seen with satisfaction how such rewards drove his men's morale ever higher.

This time, however, was slightly different.

This time, he did not merely want to plunder — he wanted to possess this great city forever.

Indeed — who said the Jianzhou Jurchens could only huddle in the bitter, cold lands of the White Mountains and Black Waters? Who said his Great Jin could not establish its capital in a great city as well? Who would want to stay cooped up in that wooden stockade of Hetu Ala? The Great Jin of today had reached the point where it could stand as an equal rival to the Great Ming.

Let the arrogant, ungrateful Han commoners in this city learn a lesson, but the killing and looting must not be too severe. They must be kept alive to farm and herd, to trade and work, even to fight in battle. This city must also be preserved. It now belonged to him and his sons — it must not be laid waste.

After listening quietly to the sounds of slaughter within the city and waiting for a good while, he summoned his personal guards to relay orders.

"Go quickly and pass the word to every command — tell them to restrain their troops. Do not let all of Shenyang be burned down!"

The guards hastily acknowledged the order and departed. Then Nurhaci looked out again from the gate tower at Shenyang below. What a great city it was!

The first time he had come to this city of Shenyang, he had been nothing more than an ignorant child, merely the son of a petty tribal chieftain. Nurhaci still remembered clearly how his father had styled himself a Commandant, yet even a lowly squad commander here could mock and treat him with contempt.

Yet now, decades later, he had become the Great Khan of the Great Jin, commanding tens of thousands of elite troops and a thousand li of territory. Now even this magnificent great city was about to be his. Despite his usual composure and calm, a flash of excitement and an indescribable sense of achievement stirred in Nurhaci's heart.

I, Aisin Gioro Nurhaci, have lived to see this day!

Just as Nurhaci was still immersed in these reveries, one of his personal guards came swiftly up the gate tower stairs.

"What is it?" Nurhaci asked quietly once the man had ascended the tower.

The guard immediately knelt and prostrated himself, answering the Great Khan's question with the utmost respect.

"Reporting to the Great Khan: the Grand Beile reports that the Ming army's Sichuan-Zhejiang Brigade General Chen Ce led his Sichuan troops across the Hun River, intending to reinforce Shenyang. They were blocked by our forces and annihilated to the last man. Chen Ce, Tong Zhongkui, and the others all died in battle."

Even the relief force had been wiped out? Today truly was a fine day.

He had laid an ambush near the Hun River earlier and had not expected it would actually crush the Ming reinforcements.

The joy was replaced by calm again after a brief moment.

The journey was not yet at its end. Liaoyang had not yet been taken.

"Understood. You may withdraw." Even upon receiving news of yet another rare and great victory, the Great Khan remained as steady as ever.

Next, it would be Liaoyang's turn.

A few days after the fall of Shenyang, on the main road leading from Shenyang to Liaoyang, a great army was on the march.

The army's formation was extremely orderly. Infantry and cavalry were each massed in their own columns, marching in perfect discipline, exuding the grim, lethal air of a strictly commanded force. As far as the eye could see, the pointed tips of thousands of helmets glittered under the sunlight, so bright they stung the eyes. It was still the bitter cold of early spring in Liaodong. The chill wind blew through the ranks, stirring robes and hoods like a gale sweeping through a forest, the treetops undulating, setting ten thousand hectares of waves in motion. Thick snow still lay everywhere along the road, but the marching soldiers paid it no heed whatsoever, striding forward along the road as if the blazing fire burning in their hearts alone could melt all the snow away.

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