Chapter Sixteen

Reinforcements surged onto the field, momentarily slowing the Qing army’s assault. Yet from the rear, the drums beat with increasing urgency; several Qing soldiers who had retreated even slightly were promptly cut down by officers enforcing discipline. The cavalry returned in force, arrows raining down like a storm. A severely wounded Han artilleryman suddenly awoke from unconsciousness, crawling desperately beside a bronze cannon. After a long struggle, he managed to find a small cannon already loaded but not yet fired. With a thunderous roar, the cannon, silent for so long, unleashed its fury, carving a bloody fan-shaped path through the charging cavalry. The riders, eyes ablaze with battle madness, pressed on undeterred, loosing volleys of arrows. The dying artilleryman was instantly nailed to the gun carriage by a hail of arrows.

“Why is Tu Hai fighting so desperately?!” Lin Feng lowered his binoculars in anguish, pointing toward the front lines. Standing atop a hill, his view was far wider than Shi Lang’s. At this moment, the Qing forces were fully committed, while Tu Hai’s “Grand General of Pacification” banner stood almost deserted in the distance. The Qing soldiers had encircled the Han army in a semicircle, galloping relentlessly and firing arrows with all their might. “Damn it, just how many men does he have?!” Lin Feng said bitterly.

“Eight thousand cavalry!” Zhou Peigong replied, “Not six thousand, not seven thousand—eight thousand, all elite horsemen, no infantry. This is his core force.”

“He wants to crush us in a single blow? Surely he’s not that naive. Our main force is still intact.” Lin Feng squinted, muttering to himself.

“My lord, he has no choice. If he can shatter our lines, his cavalry can easily annihilate us in pursuit,” Zhou Peigong explained. “But he’s paid dearly for it—who would have thought that eight thousand iron cavalry would be stalemated by ten thousand new recruits? He’s deep within our territory. If he can’t destroy our infantry in one strike, he’ll be trapped. The cavalry are agile, but the region around the capital is small—there’s little room to maneuver...”

Before he finished, the Qing troops below erupted in a thunderous shout. The front ranks of mounted archers suddenly parted, revealing a broad passage. Heavy hooves thundered, and a squadron of armored cavalry charged forth, their cries like rolling thunder. In moments, they reached the lines between the two armies. Lin Feng’s expression changed dramatically as he pointed, “...What is that?!...”

“The Vanguard Regiment?!” Zhou Peigong’s face also paled. “It’s the Imperial Guards’ Vanguard Regiment, the ‘Ironclad Horse’—once founded by the great ancestor, Nurhaci himself, as the breakthrough cavalry.”

Lin Feng stared, pale as death, clutching his head in agony and muttering, “Is this a joke? Didn’t the internet say the Qing had no heavy cavalry? Damn it all...”

“What ‘internet’?!” Zhou Peigong asked in confusion, glancing around but seeing no sign of spiders, his brow furrowed. “The false Qing are renowned for their sturdy armor. The infantry have ‘iron heads’, skilled in storming fortresses; the cavalry have ‘ironclad horses’, famed for breaking formations. According to records, when the Later Jin first rose, half the population of Hetu Ala were craftsmen, their weapons famed throughout Liaodong! My lord, you are widely learned—how do you not know this?!...”

The bugles sounded endlessly, shouts thundered, and the crowd’s eardrums rang. The drums beat faster and faster, now indistinguishable, roaring like a tidal wave. Tu Hai’s general’s banner moved forward once more, and the Qing troops at the front screamed like madmen. The semicircular cavalry formation contracted, merging into dense ranks that followed closely behind the armored horsemen, charging furiously at the Han positions.

Dozens of small cannons at the front lines, save for those that burst, were pulled back. Nearly a hundred soldiers frantically slashed open water bags, pouring fresh water over the cannon barrels.

Opposite, the heavy cavalry stood in their stirrups, leaning low over their horses’ manes, whipping their mounts with desperate force. Despite their speed, their diamond-shaped formation remained perfectly aligned.

“Damn it, we have no choice—it all comes down to this,” Lin Feng muttered under his breath. Without hesitation, he drew his sword, turned, and shouted fiercely, “All troops advance—advance! Any who retreat will have their families destroyed!” With that, he leapt from his horse and charged down the hill on foot.

Dozens of aides with booming voices raced through the ranks, shouting themselves hoarse, “The commander’s orders—great rewards for those who kill the enemy! Any who retreat will lose their land and their families will be executed!”

Aside from a few officers, the Han army’s central ranks were almost entirely locals from the capital region. Hearing these words, their hearts trembled.

Tu Hai’s banner now pressed close to the rear of the battlefield. The Qing officers enforcing discipline had already executed over a dozen underperforming officers, but casualties were now over half. Looking at the mound of corpses between the two armies, the Qing soldiers felt dispirited. The Han troops, too, were suffering heavy losses; the musket regiment had lost nearly a third of its men. The battle had raged for more than two hours since afternoon, with both sides exhausted and unfed.

Laughter faded, and a harsh voice rang out, clear to every ear: “Commander Lin of the Han army decrees: Anyone who fights for the Eight Banners again, your families in Beijing will be slaughtered—none left alive, not even the dogs and chickens! If you dare ride against us, you forsake your parents, wives, and children—come if you truly have the courage!”

The cavalry preparing to charge were stunned by these words, suddenly hesitant, slowing steadily until they stopped altogether. Awkwardly gripping their reins, they neither advanced nor retreated, whispering anxiously among themselves. The officers shouted angrily, raising their sabers and striking nearby troops with the flat of the blade. Several soldiers’ heads split open, falling from their horses with cries of pain. Enraged, a few soldiers suddenly leaped from their mounts, tackled the officer, and beat him savagely, pulling his queue and raining blows.

Seeing the chaos ahead, the officers enforcing discipline became frantic, ordering military law. A volley of arrows fell, instantly killing dozens of Qing soldiers at the rear. The remaining troops could no longer endure; they turned their horses and cursed in every dialect, shouting, “Damn it... you bastards... Brothers, let’s revolt... revolt!” They raised their sabers and charged furiously at the officers enforcing discipline.

With the front ranks in mutiny, the rest of the Qing troops responded. Groups of soldiers killed their officers, and the Qing army dissolved into chaos. Most Qing soldiers hung their heads in despair, uncertain what to do.

Lin Feng was overjoyed, leaping three feet high and shouting incoherently, “Kill them all... Charge!” He commanded hoarsely, “...Capture Tu Hai alive!”

Zhou Peigong quickly added, “Capture Tu Hai alive and receive ten thousand taels of silver and promotion by three ranks. Whoever kills him gets five thousand taels and a promotion by one rank!”

The Han ranks instantly became disordered, soldiers raising their muskets and screaming wildly, rushing forward without regard for their lives. Rick ran over in panic, gesticulating, “Ah! General, how can you do this?” He pointed anxiously at the Qing cavalry, “Without formation, our muskets...”

Lin Feng threw an arm around his shoulder, warmly brushing dust from his coat. “Don’t worry, this is the East—here, we play by Eastern rules. We’ve already won, sir, we’ve won—formation or no formation, even crawling would do!”

Beside them, Zhao Guangyuan, who had remained silent, was itching for action. Lin Feng glanced at him and grinned, “Old Zhao, are you still up for it? Check down there—is it still attached?!”

Zhao Guangyuan’s wounds were severe: his finger self-amputated, an arrow lodged in his back, and his left shoulder’s tendon cut during the cavalry melee. His arm was tightly bandaged. Though he knew Lin Feng was teasing, he couldn’t help but retort angrily, “Damn it, I’ve never questioned my own ability!” With a whistle, he called his horse, mounted in a flash, raised his saber one-handed, and charged out, guiding the horse with his legs alone.

The Han cavalry, repeatedly battered, now numbered barely six hundred, most wounded. Led by Zhao Guangyuan, they charged the Qing army once more. Lin Feng sent him a flying kiss from afar, laughing in a strange accent, “Bye-bye, you adorable little fool!” Zhou Peigong shivered involuntarily.

The large-scale battle ended the moment the Han army charged. The few Qing officers who tried to turn the tide were either slain by their own men or shot by Han musketeers. The Eight Banners troops enforcing discipline scattered under attack by mutinous soldiers. Tu Hai, protected by a handful of loyal guards, fought desperately to break free and galloped toward the canal.

The once-glorious “Grand General of Pacification” banner lay abandoned on the ground, its white silk covered in dirt and footprints, filthy and forlorn.

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*Correction: “The Han cavalry, repeatedly battered, now numbered barely six hundred, most wounded. Led by Tu Hai, they charged the Qing army once more.” This is incorrect, isn’t it? It shouldn’t be Tu Hai! Tu Hai leading Han troops against the Qing?*

Sorry, non-deceptive update, correcting this very serious error.

Thanks to Lord Ghost-Face Cat; your sharp eyes and insight are legendary. Could it be that you are the famous figure spoken of in the martial world...