Chapter 156: The Generals of the Ai Family

Ever since he spotted the bandits coming from the west, Qi Shuangquan had been wearing a dark, gloomy expression from his post at the southeast corner watchtower of Wen'an Post City.

He was a corporal of the third squad, left vanguard company of the Yan'an Battalion.

His brother-in-law, Ma Maoguan, had gone west to hunt for enemy heads and had not returned.

Gone. His brother-in-law was gone.

Soon after, the rebel forces surrounded the post city on three sides, and the sounds of artillery fire quickly echoed from the mountains to the south.

When Qi Shuangquan pulled aside a familiar general's household guard to ask, the guard wore a sorrowful look and told him there were simply too many bandits, and the southern rear vanguard probably wouldn't be able to hold out.

Qi Shuangquan did not consider the men surrounding the post city to be mere bandits; their battle formations were rigorous and their equipment uniform—clearly, they were an army.

They were completely different from the likes of Wang Zuogua, Huntianwang, or even Cao Cao, who had been hunted down earlier.

He preferred to call these men rebels.

Night fell completely.

The rebels piled up firewood everywhere beneath the city walls and lit towering bonfires, illuminating the base of the city as bright as day.

Qi Shuangquan shouldered his matchlock musket and took aim at the rebels, trying to avenge his brother-in-law.

He struck a rebel soldier carrying firewood; the lead ball pierced the soldier's helmet, a bundle of firewood tumbled to the ground, and the rebel fell, twitching for a moment. From the look of it, he seemed to be no more than a boy of fifteen or sixteen.

In his own squad, there was also a young soldier of about that age—a military household conscript from Xi'an Garrison. Because he was often bullied by the veterans in the squad, he always clung to Qi Shuangquan, even sleeping back-to-back with him out in the field.

That young soldier had only seen coins a few times in his life and had never owned a single wen of his own. Consequently, he possessed an extraordinary yearning for military pay, and when he was drafted into the Yan'an Battalion, he had jumped for joy.

All day long, he would pester Qi Shuangquan with questions.

"Sir, do we get military pay once we join the battalion?"

"How much pay will I get?"

"What should I do once I get my pay?"

He was terribly annoying.

Qi Shuangquan had no idea how many coins he himself would actually receive by the end of a year following the Yan'an Battalion.

The wind on the watchtower at night was very chilly. Qi Shuangquan clutched his matchlock and curled up back-to-back with the young soldier behind the battlements. Too many people were crammed inside the post city; the narrow streets were littered with resting soldiers.

Even though a bonfire blazed right beside them, it brought him not a shred of comfort. Instead, the contrast of being frozen on one side and scorched on the other made him even more miserable.

Half-asleep and half-waking—all blame lay with that young soldier, who had spent the whole day chattering endlessly about military pay—Qi Shuangquan fell into a chaotic dream.

In the dream, he led his three nephews and his sister into the military camp. His brother-in-law grabbed them and announced that pay had been distributed, a vast amount of pay—all the arrears dating back to the Wanli reign had been paid out in full, and every single tavern in the entire city of Xi'an was packed with soldiers.

A deafening explosion jolted him awake. Before he could even process what was happening, a shrieking sound tore through the air right above his head.

A solid iron cannonball smashed through the eaves of the watchtower, sending roof tiles shattering in all directions. Half of the body of the auspicious beast ornament spun and struck the ground right behind him.

He turned his head. The sleepy-eyed young soldier was clutching the back of his head, slowly turning his face toward him, managing a stiff, sluggish, silly smile as if he wanted to say something.

Then his body went limp, not even emitting a groan, save for faint, spasmodic twitches every few seconds.

Before Qi Shuangquan could snap out of his daze, the young soldier's life had slipped away.

The ramparts were already in utter chaos. Soldiers paralyzed by the terror of being besieged snapped out of their sleep and frantically strapped on whatever armor they could grab.

Their own, someone else's—wearing armor of unknown origin, gripping weapons of unknown ownership, they peered down anxiously.

Peering down at the brilliantly lit base of the city, peering into the pitch-black expanse across the river.

The soldiers inside the city, whether quartered in the streets or sleeping indoors, formed up company by company amid the blare of horns and climbed the ramparts.

At first, they stared nervously at the men beside them, only relaxing slightly once they recognized their comrades, before turning anxious gazes toward the outside of the city.

There was no movement.

It was as if that artillery blast had been an illusion.

Only the pool of blood flowing from the young soldier's head onto the ground was real.

Just as they let down their guard, someone pointed to the deepening shadows outside the city where human figures were gradually materializing.

They were a dozen horsemen. Seeming to fear artillery fire, they maintained wide intervals, riding in a long, extended line, slowly pacing their mounts through the shadows.

As they drew closer, they shouted cries of victory by the bonfires, waving flags and galloping around the flames.

By the light of the fires, Qi Shuangquan heard someone whisper that those were the banners of the rear vanguard stationed at Liangjia River.

No one knew the situation of the rear vanguard; the morale of the soldiers inside the post city simply plummeted.

General Ai climbed up to the ramparts and made a special trip to the southeast corner watchtower, his eyes filled with profound pity.

He asked for the young soldier's name, intending to cut off a lock of his hair to take back to his family, only to be told that the young soldier had no family. He could only stoop down and gently close the eyes that had been so full of curiosity about the world.

When the general departed, everything returned to silence.

Qi Shuangquan leaned against the ice-cold wall of the battlements, closing his eyes, but sleep eluded him.

He had fought Su Chongming in the southwest; he had seen more than enough partings of life and death.

The death of a single soldier should not have robbed him of his rest.

Yet every time he closed his eyes, it was the young soldier asking him for his military pay.

This was entirely abnormal.

He reached out and touched the young soldier; the body was already cold. Everyone else was fast asleep; only he remained haunted by the words the young soldier had died trying to speak.

Thinking and thinking on it, Qi Shuangquan reached into his waist pouch and fished out a single copper coin. At first, he placed it inside the young soldier's tunic over his chest, but reconsidering, he took it back out, forcefully pried open the young soldier's tightly clenched jaws, slipped the Jiajing Tongbao coin inside, and closed his mouth.

Only then was he finally able to fall asleep.

During the night, the rebels fired their cannons twice more—once with a long-range heavy gun, and another time when they pushed four small cannon pieces down to the riverbank and blasted the ramparts with grapeshot.

That night, Qi Shuangquan managed to snatch intermittent sleep totaling little more than a couple of hours.

When he woke at dawn, the sky had not yet fully brightened, but the rebels outside the West Gate were engaged in combat. Word had it that the vanguard detachment stationed at Huoshaogou had launched a flank attack against the enemy forces.

Consequently, the rebel forces besieging the eastern side were also shifting westward.

Inside the post city, the general issued orders not to beat gongs or drums, selecting five squads to sally forth and stall the rebel reinforcements, while dispatching cavalrymen to gallop to Yulin for help.

The city gates had just barely cracked open when the artillerymen on the opposite bank opened fire from two hundred paces away, hurling solid iron cannonballs of Red-barbarian and Falanji types straight into the arched gateway.

Listening to the screams echoing from nearby, Qi Shuangquan irritably rubbed his beard and cursed, "Who the hell designed this blasted city gate in the first place?"

Those who wanted to enter couldn't get in, and those who wanted to leave couldn't get out.

The supporting infantry were blasted back by cannon fire and couldn't even make it out of the city. In the end, a mere score of cavalrymen forced their way out under a hail of fire; the rebels unleashed a volley of matchlocks across the riverbanks, dropping half of them, while the rest scattered in rout and were hunted down by enemy horsemen.

The sounds of battle in the west quickly died down, but the bandits did not cease their operations. Leaving a force to maintain the siege outside the city, their main army pressed forward to attack Huoshaogou in the west.

Qi Shuangquan's hundred-man company was pulled back from the watchtower by the captain.

Tonight, they would finally get to sleep in houses—eighty-seven men crammed into four rooms, one of which lacked a roof.

Yet as they carried the young soldier's corpse down from the ramparts, the brothers could muster no joy whatsoever.

The body was brought to the official yamen in the northern part of the city, where over twenty corpses had already been laid out. Those killed directly by artillery shells were too ghastly to behold; the young soldier actually looked relatively intact.

Even after retreating to the base of the city, there was no rest to be had. The ancient trees, rooftops, and wild grass inside the post city all met a grim fate.

In the afternoon, the general's eldest son, reeking to high heaven and accompanied by his household guards, confiscated all un-tanned leather belts, hides, and boots from the infantry and cavalry, and even rounded up spare straw sandals from among the troops.

There were three wells in the city, but only one remained usable, and drawing water day and night was still insufficient to supply the drinking needs of over a thousand soldiers.

As for the other two wells, one had been plugged up with rubble, and soldiers were still down there clearing it out.

As for the final well, a dead body had been soaking in it; rumor had it that an official seal had been fished out first—seemingly the postmaster, who had been pushed down during a mutiny of the post runners.

That well had been cleared out that very morning under the general's orders, and the one who had climbed down to haul up the corpses was none other than the eldest young master, Ai Huiguang.

Otherwise, many men would rather have died of thirst and fought others for water than let themselves be lowered into a well to do such a job.

On the second night of the siege, the Guanzhong soldiers partook in the most extravagant yet crudest meal since the campaign began.

Noodles boiled with horse meat, grass roots, and dried hay.

General Ai's three sons in the army all scattered their household guards among the ranks, eating right alongside the soldiers from Guanzhong.

Eldest Young Master Huiguang ate very quickly. His clothes were filthy, so he had changed into a bloodstained dead man's tunic, given it a quick wash, and sat among the troops to chat with the soldiers.

Qi Shuangquan asked him, "Young General, didn't you confiscate all those hides today? How come there aren't any in the noodles?"

"You want to eat that?" Ai Huiguang shook his head with a smile. "I tasted a piece; you can't bite through it. It needs to soak for another two days. As for the water situation, that's already resolved."

"The general made me clear out a well today, ugh—" Just mentioning clearing the well made Ai Huiguang want to retch. He gritted his teeth, endured the nausea, and said, "I cleaned out the bottom. Give it a couple of days to wash through and let the dirty water drain away, and we'll have three wells. There will be plenty of water."

"We don't need to worry about rations either. We brought four days' worth of rations for over a thousand men, plus ten days of emergency rations, along with mules, donkeys, oxen, and warhorses. The four days' rations mixed with grass roots, hay, raw hides, and livestock meat will easily last eight days. By then, we can slaughter more livestock."

"There aren't even any commoners left in these parts; why on earth would the bandits outside be able to starve us out for a month? We've already sent for help to Yulin today, and Commander Du will dispatch reinforcements before long."

Ai Huiguang sat cross-legged on the ground just like the common soldiers, waving a hand dismissively. "You brothers were living good lives back in Guanzhong, only to be summoned by the general to chew on grass roots and gnaw on leather in this post city."

"The general said that once we break out, you brothers will be eating fish and meat to your hearts' content, and he'll take me to eat bear paw. But as long as we're in this city, whatever the brothers eat, we father and sons eat from the same pot. As long as we don't starve to death, you needn't worry about starving."

With that, Ai Huiguang turned his head toward the south, in the direction of the rebel camp outside the city. "If I'm about to starve to death, I'll just march out and catch a couple of rebels for you to eat."

Amid a chorus of cheers from the soldiers, Qi Shuangquan looked at the radiant, high-spirited Ai Huiguang, and he understood.

People always said that the Ai family had three generations of generals, with fathers bringing sons into battle in every generation.

In the past, Qi Shuangquan had always felt that while father-and-son soldiers fighting side by side might boost courage, father-and-son generals seemed rather pointless, as a single wipeout would extinguish the family line entirely.

Yet today, his perspective changed.

A general bringing his sons into the army was truly useful.

What soldiers were reluctant to do, the sons could do; what soldiers were reluctant to eat, the sons could eat.

Since the general's sons did these things, what was there that a common soldier could not do? Since the general's sons ate these things, and ate them with such evident relish, what was there that they couldn't swallow?

Accompanied by the falling night, Ai Huiguang walked back to the southern gate tower. The soldiers' morale had received a massive boost, though the bandits sent a few more cannonballs crashing into the city walls, which annoyed him greatly.

*Do these bandits' gunpowder supply never run out?*

The roof of the gate tower was blanketed in dust shaken loose by the artillery impact. As he stepped inside, Ai Mu was using a military manual to shield his rice bowl, waving his hand to fan away the falling debris.

"Cough... Huiguang, how is troop morale?"

Ai Huiguang cupped his fists and said, "Father, the morale is usable."

That set Ai Mu's mind at ease. He blew the accumulated dust off a chair, sat back down, and sighed at some stray thought before breaking into a smile and removing the military manual covering his bowl.

In the bowl lay a shallow broth, resting atop two pieces of pressed square hide. Ai Mu smiled and said, "I really should have listened to you. You truly can't bite through it."

Huiguang glanced into the bowl, an awkward expression of wanting to laugh yet not daring to cross his face, before turning solemn. "You must take care of your health, General. Hides and grass roots—leave those for us boys to eat."

Ai Mu gave a soft laugh. "Your old man's health is just fine; I could kill an ox with a single punch. If it weren't for your grandfather's military merits inheriting him the post of regional vice-commander, I would have taken the military imperial examinations just like your Uncle Yuhua."

"These few pieces of hide won't kill me."

Upon uttering the word 'death,' Ai Mu visibly paused for a moment.

While his father Ai Yingzhao was still alive, Ai Mu had never imagined that he himself would one day die.

He had always assumed he had infinite time to accomplish whatever he desired.

But when his father passed away, it was as if a stopped hourglass had suddenly been flipped upside down, filled with the time he had left.

He could clearly perceive the end of his own life.

It felt like a giant hand pressing against his back, pushing him forward, yet forcing him to keep looking back out of fear that he might drop his children.

Ai Huiguang did not understand his sudden silence, and merely cupped his fists to ask, "General, what is it?"

"Huiguang..."

Ai Mu shook his head, drew a deep breath to steady his emotions, and said gravely, "Soldiers must be treated with sincerity. Some things can be concealed, but other things must never be kept secret."

"Your father allowed you to tell the soldiers that our food supplies are abundant and will last until next month."

In truth, their grain reserves were critically tight; even based on reduced rations that could no longer maintain combat effectiveness, there was only enough food left for half a month.

Because they were running out of soy sauce and vinegar.

No soy sauce meant no salt, and without salt... fifteen days from now, the entire army would turn into weaklings.

Furthermore, regarding Du Wenhuan, Ai Mu was far from certain whether Du Wenhuan possessed the daring to bring troops to their rescue.

Getting Ai Wannian to lead troops over would already count as their Ai family ancestral graves emitting smoke of gratitude this year.

Yet Ai Wannian might not even be able to get away right now, so as for reinforcements... truthfully, Ai Mu held no real hope for them.

"But we cannot lie to the soldiers and tell them your father is eating the exact same thing as them, when we are actually eating differently."

Ai Mu reached out, pointing a finger at Ai Huiguang with a faint smile. "In your eyes, this is a trifle, but to the soldiers, it is an insult. Under the Great Ming Code, soldiers and commoners beating their commanding officer—if it is self-brought humiliation—is entirely unpunishable. Do you want your father to take a beating?"

As moonlight washed over the earth, the sounds of combat erupted from the west of the city once more.

This time, the battle lasted longer and was fought with greater intensity.

Ai Mu hurried out of the gate tower. He noticed that this time, the rebel soldiers outside the city made no moves at all, and the forces besieging the eastern side remained firmly anchored in their positions.

This could not help but cause him to frown.

Immediately afterward, a soldier came running swiftly from the ramparts and reported to him, "General! Vanguard Commander Zhang led his men in a fierce charge against the enemy lines, driving the enemy forces on the west side back two miles. They are now approaching the West Gate along the pontoon bridge across the moat. Do we open the gates?"

"Open the gates quickly! What are we waiting for?"

"Th—their baggage train was intercepted by the bandits!"