Chapter 103: Creating an Air of Mystery

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The large cavalry force rushing in from the northeast was indeed the Khorchin cavalry, essentially the army gathered by the third son of Ukhshan, Tagar, on the east bank of the Simulalun River. This force had originally intended to head to Yan'ehai to support the Tumot people but, upon receiving an urgent message from Ukhshan, they had pressed on day and night to reach Sanbula Chuan Han Court.

Banktu, Suoghal, and Tagar combined their forces and launched a probing attack against the Ming troops stationed on the hill, only to be easily repelled, leaving behind hundreds of corpses. After this initial defeat, the Khorchin ceased their assault and set up camp at the southern foot of the mountain, attempting to use siege tactics to starve the Ming soldiers into submission on the hilltop.

On the mountain, Wang Pu was surveying the terrain.

This earthen hill had a peculiar shape, resembling a large raised platform on flat ground. The north, west, and east sides were sheer cliffs tens of meters high, while only the southern side was a gentle slope, narrow at the top and widening downward. Near the summit, the slope was only about twenty meters wide, possessing an imposing natural choke point.

With sufficient ammunition, two hundred musketeers could hold this position for a year.

Standing atop the hill and gazing into the distance, all around was a vast snowy plain. Far away, undulating mountains met the sky, the boundless expanse wild and desolate. Wang Pu was reminded of a famous verse:

“The northern landscape, a thousand miles sealed in ice, ten thousand miles drifting snow; along the great river, the torrents are stilled; inside and outside the Great Wall, only boundless wilderness remains...”

But regrettably, this was no time for poetic reflection or grand strategizing. Wang Pu had to find a way to escape this desperate position and return to Datong!

Over twenty thousand Mongol cavalry had already blocked the southern descent.

However, the Khorchin had not deployed troops to guard the other three directions, nor had they posted many patrols. This was not only because of the vastness of the terrain. The Khorchin did not want to spread their forces thinly, which might give the Ming a chance to break through directly. More importantly, the other three sides were sheer cliffs tens of meters high. If the Ming wanted to climb down and flee, they would have to abandon all their horses and proceed on foot.

Perhaps in the eyes of the Khorchin, the Ming would never consider such a move. Without horses, how could they outrun the Khorchin's pursuit across the endless grasslands?

The Khorchin clearly believed the Ming had only two options: hold their ground or break out frontally.

Yet Wang Pu knew that a frontal breakout was a death trap. Although the bearded captain’s thousand musketeers were formidable, their ammunition was running low. Even if they had enough rounds to unleash sharp volleys to break through the Mongol defenses, who would protect their flanks and rear?

They could not simply arrange the thousand musketeers in a square formation and slowly retreat like a tortoise shell back to Datong.

Could the remaining seventeen hundred cavalry protect the musketeers’ flanks and rear? They might withstand one or two Mongol assaults, even ten, but what about the eleventh or the hundredth? The Mongols numbered over twenty thousand horsemen, while they only had seventeen hundred—a staggering disparity.

The Mongols were no paper dolls; they were nomadic warriors, born for battle.

If a frontal breakout were possible, Wang Pu would have ordered a retreat before the main Mongol cavalry arrived. A frontal breakout was a dead end. Retreating to the hill was a desperate move, yet it at least preserved their lives for the moment and bought time to devise an escape plan.

A biting north wind suddenly swept down the hill, stirring up a flurry of snowflakes that drifted before Wang Pu’s eyes... In an instant, an idea struck him—a plan to break free!

Wang Pu turned sharply and barked, “Men!”

Lv Liu stepped forward two paces and answered, “At your command.”

“Immediately find Scarface, Tang Sheng, Zhao Xin, the Bearded Captain, and Monk Zhang,” Wang Pu ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Lv Liu responded and hurried off.

Soon, the five men arrived, jogging up to Wang Pu and saluted respectfully. “We report, generals.”

“Enough,” Wang Pu waved them off and said gravely, “Starting tomorrow night, no fires are to be lit on the hill. The Ming sentries at the mountain pass are to be withdrawn, but the hidden sentries must be reinforced. No one is to leave their tents or make loud noises unless the Mongols attack!”

“Yes, sir!” the five men responded in unison.

Wang Pu then addressed Monk Zhang.

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Monk Zhang promptly stepped forward. “At your service.”

Wang Pu instructed, “Gather all the hemp ropes, hemp cloth, and cotton cloth on the hill. Also, untie all the horse reins and twist them into ropes—make as many as possible, each at least thirty meters long.”

“What?” Monk Zhang was stunned. “If the reins are untied, how will we ride the horses?”

“This is a military order,” Wang Pu said. “Carry it out.”

“Yes, sir,” Monk Zhang replied and left to obey.

The Bearded Captain, Scarface, Tang Sheng, and Zhao Xin exchanged confused looks. They could not understand why Wang Pu would issue such an order. Without reins, how could the cavalry ride their horses?

Wang Pu then commanded Tang Sheng, Zhao Xin, and Scarface, “Gather all the provisions on the hill and make them into steamed buns and cornbread. Slaughter several hundred horses, roast the meat, and cut it into small pieces. Prepare dry rations for fifteen days per man, all ready before nightfall tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” the three men acknowledged and departed.

Wang Pu turned to the Bearded Captain again. “Besides increasing the number of hidden sentries, your men must stay in their tents. If the Mongols attack, let them approach. When they come within twenty paces, open fire with the Dragon King cannons. Do not spare the Dragon King cannons! If the Mongols dare come close, have the brothers fire with all their might!”

“Yes, sir,” the Bearded Captain replied.

Only then did Wang Pu breathe a long sigh of relief. Everything was arranged. As the saying goes, “Man plans, Heaven decides.” Whether he and the 2,700 men under his command could survive and return to Datong was left to fate.

A quiet day passed swiftly. The time came to the second night.

Banktu, Suoghal, and Tagar sat with several thousand-man commanders around a campfire, feasting on large slabs of meat and laughing boisterously. Tagar glanced up at the mountain and suddenly exclaimed, “Hey, why are those southern Ming barbarians so quiet? It’s freezing cold, yet they don’t light fires to keep warm?”

Banktu, Suoghal, and the other commanders looked up at the hill. Indeed, it was pitch black, not a single flicker of firelight. No sounds could be heard, and oddly, no shadows of people were visible, as if the mountain were deserted.

“Strange,” Suoghal scratched his head. “What are those southern barbarians up to?”

A naive commander blurted out, “Could they have fled?”

“Fled?” Banktu sneered. “Three sides are cliffs, and we’ve blocked the southern path. Where could they possibly run? Do they have wings to fly or tunnels to escape underground?”

“Maybe so,” the commander replied. “They might have twisted some hemp ropes to climb down the cliffs.”

“Ha ha ha...” Banktu and the others laughed loudly. Only a fool would say such a thing. If the southern barbarians wanted to climb down with ropes, they would have to abandon all their horses. In this icy wilderness, without horses, where could they run? How far?

Even if they weren’t shot down by the Khorchin, they’d freeze or starve to death.

Tagar pondered and said, “Brother, just in case, send two thousand men up to check.”

“I’ll do it!” the naive commander volunteered.

“Good,” Banktu nodded and ordered, “Then take two thousand men and climb up to investigate.”

“Wait,” Tagar added, “Don’t light torches. Sneak up quietly in the darkness.”

“Yes, sir.”

The commander responded and set out.

Soon, two thousand Khorchin cavalry gathered, abandoned their horses, and climbed the hill on foot.

Though it was night, the snow on the ground provided enough light for the two thousand to be faintly visible from several hundred paces away. But the Ming troops on the hill showed no reaction. Even when the Khorchin approached within fifty paces of the summit, the Ming remained silent.

Seeing the Khorchin closing in with no response from the Ming, Banktu and his brothers watched carefully from below, shaking their heads in puzzlement. “Strange. Did those southern barbarians really abandon their horses and flee? Or did some ghost wipe them out?”

On the hill.

The leading commander approached within twenty paces of the summit with his men when suddenly hundreds of dark objects were hurled down from above. Due to the dim light, the objects were indistinct, but they seemed to have handles, sparking faintly.

The Khorchin watched helplessly as these black objects fell among them. Dozens were struck on the head and collapsed dazedly. The commander laughed heartily, mocking the southern barbarians’ futile attempt to block their advance with mere stones.

“Boom! Boom! Boom!”

The commander laughed only twice before a dazzling flash erupted at his feet, instantly splitting his sturdy body in two and throwing him skyward. More flashes blossomed among the Khorchin, and amid deafening explosions, hundreds were blasted into the air. Many others were wounded by shrapnel from the Dragon King cannons, screaming as they collapsed in pools of blood.

In fact, the Ming hidden sentries had been in place since the Khorchin first climbed the hill.

The Bearded Captain had long led five hundred musketeers lying in wait in the snow at the mountain pass. Due to the angle and pre-built snow tunnels on the hill, the Khorchin below could not detect these musketeers’ movements.

When the Khorchin entered within twenty paces, the Bearded Captain gave the order, and five hundred musketeers simultaneously launched Dragon King cannonballs down the hill. What was the power of five hundred Dragon King cannonballs exploding at once? The unlucky Khorchin were torn apart, bleeding profusely! Before the survivors could recover, a second volley of five hundred cannonballs was hurled, followed by a third.

Wang Pu had said not to spare the Dragon King cannons. The five hundred musketeers treated it like setting off firecrackers, gleefully pelting the Khorchin with cannonballs.

Below the hill.

Just as Banktu finished speaking, brilliant flashes erupted on the mountain, followed by thunderous explosions. Even from below, the ground trembled, making it easy to imagine the intensity of the blasts and the misery of the Khorchin caught within.

“Damn it!” Banktu cursed fiercely. “These cunning southern barbarians have set a trap!”

Tagar turned sharply and ordered his bodyguard captain, “Quick, send orders for Lemi and the others to withdraw down the hill.”

“Yes, sir.”

The captain acknowledged and hurried off.

Soon, continuous horn calls echoed below the hill. In truth, before the retreat horns sounded, the Khorchin, shaken from the massive explosions, instinctively began to retreat in panic. Ultimately, they left over six hundred corpses on the hill, suffering heavy casualties.

Afterward, the Khorchin learned their lesson and never sent troops to probe the hill again.

The hill returned to silence. The Ming soldiers neither lit fires nor made noise, nor did they move about. Day or night, they seemed to be hibernating or vanished into thin air. Yet the Khorchin knew the Ming had not disappeared—they were still on the hill, merely creating an illusion to lure them into a trap.