Chapter Fourteen

In the autumn of 1685, the Grand Founder personally led a campaign, advancing his troops into central Liaodong. The Qing general Cai Yurong met him in battle and was utterly defeated. Thus, Liaoyang was taken. In this engagement, a hundred thousand heads were claimed; of the population, seven out of ten perished. The Liao River ran red with blood, and the prefect Yao Qisheng died defending his post.

The mad slaughter raged for a full day and night. Only when the Han army, exhausted to the bone, could no longer lift their arms did they finally sheathe their swords. At dawn, as the dead were gathered, the once-great city of Liaoyang held barely more than forty thousand old men, women, and children. The able-bodied men and women had been almost entirely butchered. Among the sprawling ruins, not a single intact tiled house could be found, nor a single clean well. Corpses lay strewn in every street and alley, blood pooled in the gutters, and the few houses that still smoldered sent up thin wisps of smoke. The air reeked with the choking stench of blood and death.

Lin Feng spent considerable effort to restore order among his troops. After such frenzied carnage, discipline was frayed. The regular Han army, better trained and more accustomed to strict order, responded—albeit slowly—to repeated calls and withdrew to camp under their officers’ commands. The militiamen, however, proved much harder to control. Even after the order to cease slaughter had been given, many ignored it, continuing to rampage and set fires throughout Liaoyang. In the end, Lin Feng had to dispatch two battalions of musketeers to drive them out at gunpoint. Only after dozens were shot did the rest finally retreat to camp.

Since the day before yesterday, messengers sent by Ma Ying had arrived at the main camp in quick succession, reporting the current situation on the battlefield to Lin Feng.

With the core Eight Banners returning and the Khorchin Mongols suddenly joining the fray, the tide had turned against the Han army. Only now did the full Qing strategy become clear: while Lin Feng’s forces besieged Liaoyang, the Qing’s General of Heilongjiang, Sabusu, led a cavalry force to Jirim. There, he joined the Khorchin prince, Buriyagama, and together their forty-thousand-strong army surged along the Liu River. At this point, Lin Feng’s troops and Ma Ying’s army were separated by several hundred li, north and south of Shenyang, nearly severed by the Manchu-Mongol alliance.

The generals gathered in the command tent were utterly spent, faces darkened and lips cracked from thirst. They had marched for so long that their throats burned, yet not one dared suggest their lord rest. Lin Feng, awkward and stiff, rode sideways in the saddle. Days of relentless riding, armor never shed, horses never unsaddled, had left his thighs and backside raw and bleeding. Even though his guards had padded his seat with cotton, every gallop still brought agonizing pain. Now, riding abreast with his chief of staff, Mu Tianyan, and the commander of the Imperial Guards, Rike, he held a large map in his hands. As they rode, they discussed the situation.

“It seems we’ve lost this round,” Lin Feng said through gritted teeth, sweat beading on his brow from the pain. “I suspected that Khorchin’s Buriyagama had been colluding with the Tartars all along. Their earlier ambiguous behavior was just to lull us into carelessness! That old scoundrel Buriyagama—I’ll never forgive him!”

Mu Tianyan managed a bitter smile. “Looking back, it was close—thank heaven we fought tooth and nail to take Liaoyang. If not, we’d be trapped beneath its walls now, unable to advance or retreat, forced to watch the Tartars and Mongols devour us one by one!” He wiped the cold sweat from his brow, still shaken. “It really was perilously close!”

“That Cai Yurong really had guts—damn him, he staked his life just to hold me back. Remarkable, truly remarkable!” Even after several days, Lin Feng still felt a grudging admiration for Cai Yurong, tinged with regret. “Ah, if only he could have surrendered to us…”

Before he could finish, a cavalryman galloped up, shouting, and reported to the main force, “Your Highness! Scouts from the rear have spotted a Qing cavalry force of about a thousand men—they look like pursuers from Shenyang. Lord Wang Zhongxiao asks if we should engage!”

Lin Feng was momentarily stunned, then glanced around with a laugh. “See? The Eight Banners are panicking too. Shenyang barely has any troops left, yet they dare send pursuers—reckless fools!” He slapped his saddle, laughing heartily. “General Ma Ying is struggling to hold off Sabusu, while this Dakema is trying to tie me down. This war is getting more and more interesting!”

The officers around him forced polite laughter, all except Rike, whose face remained dark. Coldly, he said, “The enemy only wants to stall for time. If we stop to fight, they’ll retreat. If we ignore them, they’ll keep harassing us.” He turned and bowed to Lin Feng. “Your Majesty, allow me to deal with these flies.”

Lin Feng hesitated briefly, then nodded. “Be careful in all things!”

Rike tugged his reins and galloped off with the messenger toward the rear. But before his hoofbeats had faded, the vanguard musketeers suddenly broke formation. The front ranks stopped for some unknown reason, while the ranks behind surged forward, creating chaos.

Lin Feng, furious, straightened in his saddle and shouted, “What’s happening? What are you doing?!”

In the distance, the musketeer battalions parted, and several riders sped toward him. Lin Feng squinted, then started in astonishment and called out, “Ji Yun? What are you doing here?!”

Wang Shirong came spurring his horse, sweat streaming down his face. He barely managed to reach Lin Feng, panting, “...My lord... cough... cough…”

Alarmed, Lin Feng grabbed his arm, asking in a trembling voice, “Has Beijing fallen?!”

Wang Shirong shook his head, gasping for breath. “No... no...” He swallowed hard and steadied himself. “My lord, General Pei has sent me to report in person—midway through last month, the Khorchin tribes suddenly issued a call to arms, gathering all able-bodied men from the steppes. Within ten days, the Khorchin launched an attack on Suiyuan and Chahar, engaging Zhao Menggu’s forces at Xuanhua and Wang Dahai’s at Ningcheng. General Pei feared the Khorchin might send troops to slip past the Great Wall and strike Beijing, so he planned to redeploy Liu Jianwei’s Third Army from Shunde to guard the Wall. Such a large movement of troops requires your direct approval, so he sent me in haste to seek your orders!”

Under the Han army system, each general had his own defensive sector and could not move troops without Lin Feng’s permission—any unauthorized movement was considered treason. Thus, even in the face of urgent war, Pei Gong was powerless to redeploy forces while Lin Feng was away, and could only send a messenger on a long and arduous journey to request instructions.

Lin Feng understood perfectly well, though he forced a relaxed smile. “Pei Gong is too cautious. Before I set out, I already ordered that Pei would command the army and Jin Qing would handle civil affairs. This is a matter of life and death for our nation—would I possibly refuse? He worries too much!”

Wang Shirong dared not add anything, only managing a wry smile.

“How goes the fighting there? What are the enemy’s numbers?”

“My lord, the Mongol army attacking Zhao Menggu numbers a little over twenty thousand, while those assaulting Wang Pingliao’s forces are about fifteen or sixteen thousand. Though they outnumber us, they’re hastily raised and no match for our elite troops. When I left, General Zhao Guangyuan was openly defending Xuanhua’s walls, while secretly sending Chahar cavalry to strike the enemy’s rear. With this two-pronged assault, we’ve already won two battles, destroying nearly four thousand Mongol cavalry and even killing one of Buriyagama’s sons-in-law. As for General Wang Dahai, he quickly brought in the Cao brothers from Liaodong to help defend the city, and received fifteen ‘Red Coat’ cannons from Director Dai Zai. There hasn’t been a decisive victory yet, but Ningcheng is as solid as a rock!”

This was the only truly heartening news. Lin Feng beamed. “Excellent work!” After a moment’s thought, he said to Wang Shirong, “I’ll send orders to Liu Laosi right away! But you, Ji Yun, have worn yourself out on this journey—stay with my staff for now, help He Ming with strategy, and don’t rush back.”