Chapter 139: The Great Ming Dynasty Regresses Thirty Years

Soon, all preparations before departure were complete.

On the sixteenth day of the second month in the third year of Chongzhen, Liu Chengzong rode his horse along the Apricot River, cast a final glance at the land where he had first begun to build a lasting foundation, and led his troops eastward.

The vanguard, Yang Yao, also returned with his unit from Ningzhou in Qingyang Prefecture. The harvest of his expedition was disappointing, with only slightly more than twenty deserters from Guyuan joining their ranks.

It seemed that the Guyuan garrison had fled so thoroughly beforehand that the remaining soldiers were well-fed; when they followed the Regional Commander Yang Qi to勤王 (save the capital), surprisingly few had fallen behind.

Meanwhile, that other perceived "big fish"—the loyalist army from the Ganzhou Garrison—seemed to be moving even slower than Wu Zimian's forces.

Yang Yao only received news from that front shortly before rejoining the main army. They had overestimated the endurance of the border troops.

Along the six-thousand-li journey to save the capital, the vanguard of the Ganzhou border army had marched three hundred li, and the rear troops two hundred li, before mutinying in Anding County of Gongchang Prefecture. Their leader, Wang Jincai, led his soldiers to kill Regional Vice-Commander Sun Huaizhong, seized the baggage train and silver, and marched the troops back westward to the Lanzhou Grand Camp.

The Grand Coordinator, Mei Zhihuan, who was marching at the front, was shocked to hear of the mutiny and had no choice but to take the vanguard back to Lanzhou to suppress it.

Upon receiving this news, Yang Yao decided he would wait no longer.

Their strategy had been well-conceived and their plan meticulous, accurately calculating that the loyalist army marching six thousand li would inevitably mutiny.

And mutiny they did.

Yet the enemy had mutinied after marching merely two hundred li, completely out of his reach.

The opportunity was gone. Once a force set out, mutinied, was suppressed, and set out again, the probability of a second mutiny was extremely low.

While Liu Chengzong's troops marched through Yan'an Prefecture toward Shanxi, a thousand li away in the vital capital region, Regional Commander Yang Yanchang of the Yan'an Guard was shivering from the cold.

Yang Yanchang had been in Jizhou for some days now, witnessing firsthand the utter chaos of the imperial court's command structure.

To his understanding, the command capability displayed by the court in this war was no different from that of the northern Shaanxi rebels locked in a decisive battle with Li Bei at the Yan River loops.

Simply put, it was slightly better than having no command at all.

Yuan Chonghuan, Man Gui, Zhao Ruojiao, and Sun Zushou were either thrown into prison or killed in action. The death of Man Gui, who had been in overall command of military affairs, directly resulted in a total lack of coordination among the various grand armies.

Yet even if Man Gui had survived, it would have accomplished little, for the veteran Western army general Ma Shilong, who was subsequently dispatched to take over command, proved equally incapable of unifying the various loyalist armies.

For a time, the capital region fell into a bizarre equilibrium, as if an invisible line had been drawn across the ground.

On one side was Jizhou, crowded with various loyalist armies. For the most part, everyone was being shifted back and forth. Some soldiers arrived to save the capital only to find no food provided, whereupon they turned back to eat before returning once more.

On the other side was the Later Jin army, which had invaded to plunder population and wealth, occupying the four cities of Yongping Prefecture's prefectural capital, Luanzhou, Qian'an, and Zunhua. They tried every possible means to sever the court's connection with Shanhaiguan, but failed.

They attacked Funing, failing to take it after four days; they turned to assault Changli, only to be jointly blocked outside the city walls by Magistrate Zuo Yingxuan and Defense Commander Shi Zhu.

Amidst all this, there had been only one battle in which the imperial forces took the initiative to attack.

On that day, Yang Yanchang happened to be standing beside Wu Zimian, discussing what to do if the court failed to provide grain rations in the future.

A man named Liu Zhilun entered the camp, announcing that he intended to recapture Zunhua.

It was not as if he wanted to lead eight battalions to retake Zunhua of his own accord.

He had first asked the court to dispatch the Capital Garrison for assistance, but the court refused; he then memorialized the throne to send Deng Qi, the fierce Sichuanese general who had beheaded An Bangyan, but the court refused once more.

When Liu Zhilun entered Wu Zimian's entrenched camp in Jizhou, his appearance was truly haggard.

It had snowed the previous night. When he led his troops past Tongzhou, the city gates were barred against him, forcing him to spend the night with his troops braving the snow in a dilapidated temple before finally arriving in Jizhou to seek an audience with Wu Zimian.

Liu Zhilun explained the situation to Wu Zimian, saying, "If everything goes smoothly, I can recapture Zunhua. I hope Commander Wu can lend a hand by moving your forces to the banks of the Luan River to block the Eastern barbarians' reinforcements."

Wu Zimian pondered for a moment, rose, and bowed with cupped hands: "Set your mind at ease, Junior Minister of War. As long as the court supplies sufficient grain and pay, this humble officer will surely move the army to the Luan River. Even if no grain or pay is provided, should the siege fail, Junior Minister need only fall back, and we of the Western Army will certainly help block them for you."

Liu Zhilun understood. He sighed without saying more, walked two steps out of the main military tent, turned back in the falling snow outside to bow with cupped hands once more, and departed.

Listening from the side, Yang Yanchang's heart pounded with terror. He thought to himself: with so many armies encamped here, how could it ever fall to his own troops to fight? His luck was worse than mediocre!

Yet seeing the heroic, resolute back of Liu Zhilun as he walked out of the camp, Yang Yanchang felt greatly stirred. He said to Wu Zimian, "Commander Wu, are we going to send troops to fight the Eastern barbarians?"

Wu Zimian slowly sat back down, turning to look at him as if he were an idiot: "Which of your ears heard me say I was sending out troops?"

"He, just now..."

Yang Yanchang choked for words for a moment before saying, "Wasn't that man the Vice Minister of War? Didn't Commander Wu say you would help block the enemy for him?"

"Block my ass. You saw me bow to him? That was paying respects to a dead man. Forget being the Vice Minister of War; even if he were the Minister of War, I still have to take orders from Ma Shilong."

Wu Zimian held a rather favorable view of Yang Yanchang and admonished him: "You heard him too: 'if everything goes smoothly, to recapture Zunhua.' He has recruited over ten thousand new soldiers to form eight battalions, all ordinary market folk from the capital, and they haven't even been drilled for a full month. Can things possibly go smoothly?"

"Dri—drilled for less than a month?"

Yang Yanchang mused that such troops were probably inferior even to his own.

"Young pups, given an official title by the emperor, eager to repay the favor of recognition. With the various loyalist armies stationed here, they are bound to be viewed as hesitating, watching each other, and cowering from the enemy."

The expression on Wu Zimian's face was complex, a mixture of contempt and admiration. He shook his head and said, "A man like that, knowing it is a dead end yet pressing forward—I respect him. But if anyone expects me to do such a thing, I'll kill him first."

With that, he turned his gaze to Yang Yanchang: "You wouldn't be trying to persuade me to send out troops, would you?"

Yang Yanchang shook his head like a rattle-drum.

"Better not." Wu Zimian gave a light chuckle. "You have a long life ahead of you, so don't rush to die. Watch slowly; there will be plenty of bizarre things to come."

Wu Zimian had never wanted to come and save the capital in the first place, but the dispatch order had landed in his hands, and he could not evade it.

Originally, he had intended to drag his feet along the road and delay for some time, arriving in the capital region only in the third month when the fighting would already be over, so he could simply lead his troops back afterward. He had never expected that Zhang Mengjing would allow himself to be angered to death.

Had Zhang Mengjing lived just a few days longer, he would never have arrived this early.

Bizarre things?

Yang Yanchang thought to himself that his own arrival to save the capital was already bizarre enough.

Yet unexpectedly, Wu Zimian immediately followed up by saying: "I don't care what you came here to do, just don't cause me any trouble."

These words caused Yang Yanchang's heart to leap violently, draining the color from his face: "Commander Wu, what does that mean? This humble officer doesn't understand."

In truth, Wu Zimian had long since discovered that there was something wrong with this garrison commander.

From the very first day he laid eyes on Yang Yanchang, he realized this commander had massive problems.

From the banner officers down to the banner soldiers, their weapons were polished to a mirror shine, the stud-nails on their armor were free of rust, their Mandarin duck battle surcoats lacked patches, and every single man wore shoes.

The spirit of the banner soldiers was exceptionally fine: lean, powerful, high-morale, and enduring hardship.

Passing by civilian fields and homes, they committed not a single infraction.

From head to toe, this Yan'an Guard unit looked every bit like a high-specification garrison force.

It gave Wu Zimian the sudden, surreal sensation of having traveled back to the time when he first joined the army.

It was as if the Great Ming had regressed a full thirty years.

Above all, Yang Yanchang was not greedy for wealth. When Wu Zimian asked him to keep the deserters in check, and people tried to bribe him with silver to let them escape, he actually refused it.

Was this normal?

Was this reasonable?

In three years, the imperial court had issued less than thirty percent of the military pay to the Yansui Garrison. Among the commanding officers, there were none who were not greedy for wealth.

Those who were purely selfish wanted wealth;

Those filled with patriotism wanted wealth even more!

By what right was Yang Yanchang not greedy for wealth? By what right were his soldiers not pillaging?

This was not something that could be determined by moral integrity and discipline.

It meant you possessed it; it meant you looked down on such paltry sums of money; it meant your soldiers looked down on the peasants' meager grain.

With absolute confidence, Wu Zimian leaned back slightly, his demeanor relaxed: "What do it mean? Liu Chengzong is a rebel you are harboring, or else you yourself are a rebel."

Yang Yanchang's entire body stiffened, but he forced a calm exterior and said, "Ha, why is Commander Wu making such a joke?"

"I'm not taking you to the authorities, what are you afraid of?"

Wu Zimian cast a contemptuous glance at Yang Yanchang. This fellow was much more cowardly than he had imagined; he probably lacked the nerve to foster rebels for self-importance. He waved a hand and asked, "You ran all the way here to save the capital, what are you trying to accomplish?"

Hearing Wu Zimian say he wouldn't report him to the authorities, Yang Yanchang felt somewhat relieved, though he still feared Wu Zimian might be bluffing. He replied, "This humble officer was dispatched by Governor Yang to save the capital."

"Nonsense, I'm the one who requested you, don't I know that?"

Wu Zimian said, "I called for the Yan'an Guard because I wanted more men to pressure the court for grain rations. I originally intended to pack you off back home once the grain was secured, but I never expected the Yan'an Guard to have such banner soldiers... Tell me first, is Liu Chengzong a rebel you are harboring?"

Yang Yanchang shook his head honestly.

"Then are you yourself a rebel?"

Yang Yanchang thought about it, remained entirely honest, and shook his head again.

Since his cover was blown anyway, he had no intention of lying to Wu Zimian.

Reflecting upon it three times, the closest he had ever come to acting like a rebel was stealing a bronze-swirl cannon from the Yan'an Guard.

That hardly counted as being a rebel.

And pondering further, Liu Chengzong was certainly not a rebel he harbored.

At most, one could say he was a garrison commander harbored by Liu Chengzong.

Yet to actually voice such a thing was truly too embarrassing to utter.

Therefore, Yang Yanchang added, "Commander Wu, this humble officer is truly not deceiving you."

The veteran regional commander gave a light chuckle: "Then what do you use to support your army?"

Yang Yanchang was struck dumb. He almost failed to suppress a laugh, raised a hand to wipe his mouth and hide his grin, and said, "My subordinates are all capable men."

His soldiers didn't need him to support them at all!

He didn't even know who was on the official roster of the Yan'an Guard.

One day someone would come to recuperate from injuries, the next day someone would come to repair weapons, and later on, folks from the Liu Family Village would arrive to help transport grain. The entire garrison ran automatically without requiring any intervention from him.

Whenever an event occurred, someone would invariably come to call upon him: "General Yang, it's time to fight."

Nothing required him to speak a word; someone would automatically strap the armor onto his body, shove a spear into his hands, hoist him onto his horse, and lead him to the battlefield.

The enemy would block his path, his troops would form ranks behind him, and then he would spur his horse forward, invincible.

Rows of severed heads would be neatly arranged on the ground.

The entire Yan'an Guard operated automatically.

There was no way to discuss such matters with Wu Zimian; even if he did, the veteran regional commander wouldn't understand.

People only understood the logic of fostering rebels to keep one's post, how could they comprehend the subtle art of fostering officials to render oneself insignificant?

Yang Yanchang had found this situation hard to accept at first, but later he came to terms with it.

He gradually accepted the reality that he was a regional powerhouse: as long as he remained in Yan'an Prefecture, no one could defeat him.

If the government wanted to defeat Liu Chengzong, they had him;

If anyone wanted to defeat him, they had Liu Chengzong.

Yet Wu Zimian did not believe a single word he said. Seeing that Yang Yanchang's lips were sealed tight, he simply stopped pressing the matter: "Still, as I said before, since we arrived early, clashing with the Eastern barbarians is unavoidable. What did you come here for? If it's looting, I'll let you go loot, just don't bring me trouble."

"This humble officer is a stranger here, what would I loot? Everyone speaks Shaanxi official speech, I couldn't pretend to be an Eastern barbarian even if I tried."

Yang Yanchang smiled: "Commander Wu needn't worry unduly. This humble officer truly came just to save the capital. If you really ask what I want to do, it's the same as Commander Wu: simply to lead my troops back safely."

He genuinely wanted to lead his troops back safely.

"That's for the best. With the court's force of forty thousand newly destroyed, the court and the country are gripped by panic. Liu Zhilun has gone east to recapture Zunhua, and in my view, he most likely won't be coming back. A pity for those ten thousand new troops."

Wu Zimian admonished him: "I climbed up from the lowest ranks by knowing what is in the hearts of the soldiers. You must not imitate him—getting hot-headed just because the emperor grants an official title, wanting to repay the favor of recognition. The favor of recognition is given by the emperor, but it has nothing to do with the soldiers below."

Wu Zimian had never considered himself a good general after attaining high office.

He knew very well that he was no good.

Yet he equally believed that if anyone else were dropped into a place like the Yansui Garrison, no one could possibly do a better job than he did.

Didn't Du Wenhuan defend Yansui, only to let the northern Tatar barbarians breach the border wall and run amok in Yan'an Prefecture, burning and pillaging?

When he, Wu Zimian, guarded Yansui, when had the northern barbarians ever managed to break through the passes? Weren't they always beaten back?

Yang Yanchang could not bear it: "Then... are we just going to sit idly by and watch the Vice Minister of War die in battle at Zunhua?"

"We stay put. I have served as a guerrilla general in Ningxia, a regional vice-commander in Datong, garrison commander at Shanhaiguan, and deputy regional commander in Jizhou. I understand this much better than you do."

Wu Zimian slowly rattled off his previous official posts, then said: "Zhangjiawan in Tongzhou was a major grain storage hub, but the Eastern barbarians broke through it over the New Year. Now the Eastern barbarians have grain while we have none. The court cannot organize the various garrisons, and civilian laborers dare not cross the Luan River. Along our entire route we have only five thousand soldiers, whereas the Eastern barbarians can assemble thirty to forty thousand."

"Even if you were heavenly soldiers and generals, what can you do when supplies are insufficient? Who do you expect to rescue you if you sally forth? Wait until the court straightens out the grain and pay before talking about anything else."

A few days later, frontline battle reports arrived: Liu Zhilun led his army in a rapid march to Niangniangmiao Mountain, eight li from Zunhua city, where they were discovered by the Later Jin forces, and the two armies immediately engaged in a pitched battle.

Liu Zhilun arrayed his eight battalions beneath the city walls and dispatched his subordinate general Wu Yinglong to seize Luowenyu Pass as a feint.

Thereupon, two of the eight battalions were routed by the Later Jin army. Liu Zhilun personally oversaw the battle, and the remaining six battalions did not break. Abahai assembled an army of thirty thousand to launch a fierce charge, routing all eight battalions.

Liu Zhilun retreated to hold Niangniangmiao Mountain. Faced with Abahai's summons to surrender, he cursed furiously and fought again, firing cannons to bombard the Later Jin forces until a cannon exploded and his own army fell into chaos.

His subordinate generals requested permission to form ranks and retreat slowly, but this young Vice Minister of War—who had once crossed paths with Yang Yanchang—was determined to hold the position to the death. He entrusted his official seal to another to be delivered to the court, and was ultimately shot dead by Later Jin archers.

As for the troops stationed in Jizhou, it was not until the second day of the third month that they received intelligence from the front: Abahai had already led the invading Later Jin main army out of the capital region to return to Shenyang, leaving behind troops to occupy the four cities of Yongping.

In the camp, Wu Zimian patted Yang Yanchang's shoulder: "Abahai has left, and the court will finally dare to fight. Just wait and see, it's time for us to send out our troops as well."