Chapter 856: Capture and Release

Louis could now understand quite a bit of Mandarin. Before the interpreter translated, a troubled look appeared on his face, and he spoke with some embarrassment: "Master, seeing these cannons, repairing and improving them, or casting something similar is not difficult — we could even make larger improvements. However, the carriage, mount, and sights of a field gun are precision work. I can tinker with them, but making them quickly is unlikely."

Zhao Jin's expression turned rather grim. He turned to the blacksmith beside him, and that craftsman, who came from the Xu family, hurriedly answered: "With a model, casting new ones isn't hard. Even if these few cannons were ruined, the Xu family could cast new ones from molds easily enough. But those things you sketched out, Master — making them isn't difficult, but making them fit for proper use, just as the foreign devil said, can't be rushed."

The foreigner Louis had also noticed Zhao Jin's displeased expression and hastily added: "Master, I have already written a letter to Master Yu, instructing him where to find people. If suitable men can be found in Macau, Luzon, or the Southern Seas, then it will go quickly."

Zhao Jin nodded and said, his tone easing: "Press the search outside, and you yourselves must also press on with figuring out how to make them."

After speaking, Zhao Jin swung onto his horse and rode toward the temporary camp to the rear. Ji Xiang's personal guard unit had already withdrawn and was resting there. Zhao Jin dismounted upon arriving and said: "Go among the prisoners and ask whether the artillerymen who fired the cannons are still alive. If they are, find them."

Someone immediately acknowledged the order and ran off at a quick pace. Zhao Jin then dismounted and had someone summon Liu Yong over. He said in a low voice: "Take that man to the front. Have all his things prepared, and prepare a horse for him as well."

The battlefield had been mostly cleared. The corpses on the ground had all been searched, the weapons gathered in one place, and the bodies laid out neatly on the ground. Civilian laborers drove over large carts loaded with quicklime, scattering it continuously — a crude form of disinfection. After all, this place was not far from Xuzhou, and if an epidemic broke out because of the corpses, Xuzhou would inevitably be affected.

Seeing the men of the Zhao Character Camp treating the dead with care, the prisoners not far away grew lively again, thinking that if they were this courteous to the dead, they would surely treat the living even better.

Among the prisoners, two artillerymen were identified. When questioned, those two had tried to hide, but their companions unceremoniously shoved them forward.

After a brief interrogation, the Zhao Character Camp also marveled at their good luck. The government army had little regard for these cannon corps soldiers. Since your cannon position was destroyed and the cannons were unusable for the moment, take a weapon and join the melee. Several had died in the fighting; these two were lucky to have survived.

"In our camp, eleven dead, twenty-six wounded. Six of those will inevitably be crippled. Otherwise, things should be fine." Chen Sheng reported the Zhao Character Camp's own casualty figures to Zhao Jin. Everyone's faces were heavy. Every single household trooper was a seed grown at great cost; losing any was truly painful.

"Enemy killed: six hundred and ninety. Counting the earlier cavalry, total enemy dead is around seven hundred and forty. Prisoners taken alive: one thousand one hundred and twenty." Shi Manqiang reported the results of the battle.

Compared against each other, this was a textbook major victory. Yet Zhao Jin and his companions showed no happy expressions. Ji Xiang was even muttering "a loss."

"What do we do with the prisoners? March them back for hard labor?" Chen Sheng asked.

Zhao Jin shook his head and said disdainfully: "These men have too many bad habits ingrained. They can no longer endure hardship, and they aren't from around South Zhili. If they came to our territory, who knows how much trouble they'd stir up. We've fought to this point — it's enough. There's no need to let them keep entangling us."

"Big Brother, are we just letting them go like this?" Shi Manqiang asked, unwilling.

"If we kill them all, I worry we'll tear all face and have no way to settle things. There'd be no room to maneuver with the capital. But if we just let them go, the other side will think we're afraid." Zhao Jin said thoughtfully. After speaking, he shook his head and gave the order: "The Second Regiment will carry out the punishment. Beat the drums and draw lots. One in ten will be chosen. Behead those drawn, and release the rest."

Shi Manqiang nodded heavily, turned, and roused the resting troops, relieving the First Regiment who were guarding the prisoners.

The household troopers of the Second Regiment forced the prisoners to stand in formation, row after row. Anyone who was the slightest bit slow was immediately met with merciless punches and kicks. Those who resisted got the spear.

Seeing this scene, the prisoners began to grow uneasy. But at this moment, they were unarmed, and the enemy's numbers were no fewer than their own. They could only submit to the slaughter.

The Second Regiment's drummer walked to the front and began beating the military drum, one stroke at a time. After a number of beats, he stopped. The household troopers watching the ranks closely immediately rushed in and dragged out the person marked by the drum count. The executioners used were prisoners from the government army's battle-supervision unit. They wielded great blades and were skilled at beheading. As each person was dragged out, the blade rose and fell.

After several more people were dragged out, the entire mass of prisoners began to panic. They had roughly deduced the pattern and knew this was a lottery of death. Every man was scared out of his wits, terrified he would be chosen. Some shouted, "Let's fight them to the death!" But after a few of those on the periphery who stirred were stabbed to death, no one dared make a move. Everyone felt they still had a sliver of hope for life. They could only watch, helpless, as their comrades were selected — wailing like ghosts, struggling desperately — and dragged away. Sometimes, when the chosen were deep within the prisoner ranks, they were even shoved forward by the many hands of their own companions.

Heads rolled, and blood covered the ground. Among the civilian laborers and able-bodied men who had come along, some could not help but vomit. In the past, during such scenes, many of the Zhao Character Camp's household troopers would also turn pale. But now, everyone watched it all with cold indifference and calm, even those who had been in the rear ranks during the battle and had no chance to see blood or kill.

The two men Zhao Jin had ordered Liu Yong to bring also arrived. Everyone present could not help but steal extra glances, for both men wore hoods that revealed only their eyes and were dressed in civilian laborers' clothes, making their identities impossible to discern. One of them even had his arms bound. The other, though unbound, was clearly under tight guard, judging by the internal guard household troopers shadowing him closely.

When these two were brought over, they came face to face with the one-in-ten slaughter. It was visible that both men's bodies were trembling slightly; they were clearly terrified.

"Bring Qiao Shan over," Zhao Jin said. Liu Yong made a gesture, and the man with bound arms was led forward. Zhao Jin nodded, and the man's hood was yanked off. It was none other than Qiao Shan, the Ceremonial Guard Probationary Centurion from the Prince of Lu's estate.

At this moment, Centurion Qiao's face was full of shock and utter disbelief. He paid no attention to the heaven-rending wails of the execution nearby but stared fixedly at the spoils not far away — the rows of neatly arranged corpses and the weapons piled to one side, all testifying to the outcome of this battle.

After staring for a while, all color drained from Centurion Qiao Shan's face, leaving it deathly pale. His body trembled more and more violently, so much so that the two men beside him hurriedly reached out to hold him steady, fearing he might try to harm Zhao Jin.

Zhao Jin ignored the man's strange behavior and simply said: "The grand army sent by the imperial court — this is what it looks like now."

"This is the grand army sent by the imperial court? How many were sent?" Centurion Qiao Shan had been detained in the Zhao Character Camp's prison the entire time, completely ignorant of what had happened outside. After being brought into the Zhao Character Camp's marching column, he had thought his day of death was near. Only now was he let out.

"Baoding Garrison sent over four thousand. Shandong sent over two thousand," Zhao Jin answered curtly.

At this, Qiao Shan of the Prince of Lu's estate seemed to forget his fear and, with great impropriety, pressed on with his questions: "Master Jin, how many men did you bring?"

Seeing Qiao Shan grow more and more insolent, the household troopers beside him were about to act. Zhao Jin waved a hand to stop them and answered: "Fewer than five thousand."

Hearing this answer, Centurion Qiao Shan suddenly seemed to have all the strength drained from his body. His skeleton could no longer support him standing, and his body went limp. Had the household troopers behind and beside him not reached out to prop him up, he would have collapsed to the ground entirely.

"Master Jin, grant me a quick end. And please, Master Jin, show mercy — I still have a family in Ziyang City. Could someone be sent to deliver word of my death...?" Centurion Qiao said feebly. As he spoke, he broke down in uncontrollable sobs, his words becoming incoherent.

Zhao Jin smiled and made a gesture. Liu Yong drew a dagger and walked over. Centurion Qiao's entire body went still as if resigned to his fate, head lowered, believing his death was at hand. He never expected that when Liu Yong reached him, he would simply cut the ropes binding him. Centurion Qiao's whole body gave a violent shudder. He stared wide-eyed at Liu Yong for a moment, then immediately looked toward Zhao Jin.

"I won't kill you. You have seen the scene before you, and you already know what Xuzhou is like. Go back and tell those muddle-headed figures in your princely estate to behave themselves. And take back word of the deaths of those who came to Xuzhou with you. Remember to carry my words: This time, I can't be bothered to deal with you. Next time won't be so easy," Zhao Jin said calmly.

Knowing his life was spared, Qiao Shan's whole body relaxed. He knelt on the ground and wailed loudly, kowtowing as he cried: "Master Jin is merciful! Master Jin's great kindness and virtue! Thank you, Master Jin, for sparing my life! I will certainly deliver the message, certainly..."

His words, choked with sobs, could not come out coherently. Zhao Jin nodded to Liu Yong, who stepped forward and helped Qiao Shan to his feet. Leaning close, Liu Yong said in a low voice: "The days are long. We will deal with each other again."

Qiao Shan's body shuddered violently once more. He could only nod frantically, not daring to make a sound. Qiao Shan's belongings had already been bundled, and his mount was ready. Even now, Qiao Shan could scarcely believe he had a path to life. As he walked toward his horse, he kept glancing back in terror with every step, afraid the Zhao Character Camp would suddenly strike to kill. Only when he had swung into the saddle did he realize it might be real. He immediately beat his horse and fled for his life. Even as he rode away, he kept peering back from horseback, still not believing it.

Thanks to old friends "Wu Liulang" and "Yuan Heng Lizhen" for their tips. Tomorrow is the last day — can everyone cast their monthly tickets for Great Ming Wufu?