Chapter Fifteen: Feinting East, Striking West
Iron-Blooded Ming
Shengjing, the Imperial Harem.
As the slanting rays of the sun faded in the west, Wang Pu lay sound asleep atop a stone table in the pavilion, his snores rising and falling. Zhen Youcai stood by, fanning him with a palm-leaf fan. Wang Pu was deep in his dreams when the abrupt sound of hurried footsteps disturbed his rest. Sitting up, he saw Xiao Qi, Scarface, and Big Beard approaching.
Scarface wiped the sweat from his brow and announced loudly, “General, the wagons are all harnessed—two hundred in total! Each one loaded with several large barrels of gunpowder. This time, we’ll surely blow those Jianzhou Manchus into utter chaos.”
Wang Pu nodded and turned to Big Beard. “Big Beard, have all the horses in the city been gathered?”
“They have,” Big Beard replied. “The Jianzhou Manchus kept quite a few good horses in the city. Everything’s been handled just as you ordered, General.”
“Good.” Wang Pu then addressed Xiao Qi, “Xiao Qi, how is Old Li doing?”
Xiao Qi frowned. “General, Old Li says the illness of that Jianzhou woman is very grave. He can’t guarantee a cure, but he’ll do his utmost.”
“My concern is not just for those two Jianzhou women, but also for the two Jianzhou princes,” Wang Pu said gravely. “Before our breakout tonight, you must arrange everything flawlessly. We cannot—absolutely cannot—let them escape.”
“Rest assured, General,” Xiao Qi replied with a sinister grin. “During the breakout, I’ll have two men assigned to watch over those Jianzhou women. They’ll be tied to our men’s backs—there’s no chance they’ll get away! As for the two Jianzhou princes, well, I’ve already had their hamstrings cut. They’re utterly crippled now—no way they can run.”
“Well done,” Wang Pu praised. “As long as we can escort these four Jianzhou captives back to the capital, it will be a great achievement.”
Xiao Qi was overjoyed. “Thank you, General!”
“And another thing,” Wang Pu said to Scarface. “The sixteen Red Barbarian cannons on Shengjing’s city walls must not be left to the Jianzhou. Send men to lay gunpowder under them and blow them up before we leave.”
“Yes, sir!” Scarface responded harshly. “I’ll see to it immediately.”
■■■
Meanwhile, Hong Taiji arrived at the southern Qing camp outside Shengjing after nightfall.
Manzhu Xili, Tulai, and Oboi personally came out beyond the camp gate to greet him on their knees. Hong Taiji was so exhausted he could barely speak, merely gesturing for them to rise.
Given the urgent military situation, Hong Taiji rested only briefly before summoning Manzhu Xili, Tulai, Oboi, and others to the command tent. Manzhu Xili and Tulai soon arrived, but Oboi was absent.
“Where is Oboi?” Hong Taiji inquired.
Tulai replied, “Oboi is out on patrol with the troops.”
“Any unusual movements from the Ming forces inside the city?” Hong Taiji continued.
“None,” Manzhu Xili answered. “The Ming inside the city are quiet—nothing out of the ordinary.”
Hong Taiji glanced at the pitch-black sky beyond the tent. “It’s late. The Ming could attempt a breakout at any moment. See that more fires are lit outside the city and increase mounted patrols. Not a single blind spot must remain.”
“All has been arranged,” Manzhu Xili assured him.
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Just then, Oboi burst into the tent, out of breath, and knelt. “Your servant Oboi greets Your Majesty!”
“Rise,” Hong Taiji gestured. “Oboi, any movements from the Ming?”
Oboi reported, “Your Majesty, I’ve just received word—the Ming have left the city through the east gate.”
“Oh?” Hong Taiji’s fingers paused in their bead-rolling. “The Ming have left the city?”
“Yes,” Oboi replied. “Roughly six or seven hundred Ming soldiers, escorting over two hundred large wagons.”
“Did they carry torches?” Hong Taiji asked.
Oboi shook his head. “No.”
Manzhu Xili interjected, “Your Majesty, if the Ming intended a grand sortie with torches alight, I’d suspect a ruse. But since they go without torches, it seems they truly wish to sneak away under cover of darkness.”
Tulai said, “Your Majesty, allow me to lead men to intercept them.”
Hong Taiji pondered for a moment, then nodded. “Very well, Tulai. Take five hundred cavalry and block these Ming. Remember—if the Ming retreat to the city, do not pursue. The Red Barbarian cannons on the walls are not to be trifled with.”
“Your Majesty, is five hundred cavalry enough?” Manzhu Xili asked, perplexed. “To annihilate these Ming, we should send at least two thousand.”
“No,” Hong Taiji shook his head. “If I’m not mistaken, the Ming are playing a feint—an east gate diversion. Our main force must not act rashly.”
“I see,” Manzhu Xili agreed.
Hong Taiji turned back to Tulai. “Go, quickly.”
“Yes, sir.” Tulai accepted the order and left.
■■■
Scarface led five hundred retainers, escorting two hundred wagons, out the east gate, then crossed the Hun River by the floating bridge (the Hun River runs right beside Shengjing; the floating bridge was within range of the Red Barbarian cannons, so the Qing army dared not approach). They had gone less than three li when the silhouettes of the Jianzhou Manchus appeared to the south. In the firelight, the Manchus surged across the hills, blocking the Ming’s advance.
A vicious grin crept across Scarface’s lips. He ordered, “Men, light the slow match!”
The retainers all struck their fire-starters, igniting the short lengths of slow match attached to the powder barrels. These fuses, made from hemp or tightly twisted cloth soaked in nitrate or salt solutions and dried, could burn for a long time. Though the fuses on the barrels were short, each would last about half the time it takes an incense stick to burn.
[Slow match speed: about 100 millimeters per hour.]
Once all the fuses were burning, Scarface pulled his horse around and shouted, “Retreat! Back to the city!”
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At Scarface’s command, the five hundred retainers abandoned the wagons and fled, sweeping back into Shengjing like a storm. By the time Tulai and his five hundred Mongol cavalry arrived, they found hundreds of wagons left behind, but no trace of the Ming.
“These Southern Ming devils must be part rabbit, the way they run!” Seeing there was no hope of catching them, Tulai cursed furiously in the direction of their escape. Then he called to his men, “Warriors of the Khorchin steppe, your arrival has sent the cowardly Southern Ming fleeing! Now, gather your spoils and return to camp.”
The Mongol cavalry cheered and surged forward, scrambling for the loot.
At that moment, the slow matches burned down, and the hundreds of barrels of gunpowder on the wagons exploded in succession. A thunderous roar rent the night, and a grand, resplendent firework blossomed outside Shengjing’s east gate, flames leaping skyward—visible for dozens of li. Thousands of hemp sacks piled outside the barrels were hurled into the air, and the shrapnel—iron nails and shards of broken porcelain—filled the sky.
The Mongol cavalry, packed around the wagons in their frenzy for spoils, were blasted apart, suffering horrific casualties. Over two hundred men and horses nearest the blast were blown to pieces. More than a hundred others died with blood streaming from their ears, eyes, and nose, felled by the sheer force of the explosion. The rest, slightly further away, were lacerated by flying shrapnel. Tulai himself was struck by a palm-sized hunk of iron that tore away half his head—killed instantly.
■■■
South of Shengjing, at the Qing camp.
Hong Taiji, Manzhu Xili, Oboi, Tajian, and Ebilun were all awaiting news from Tulai. Suddenly, the black night outside was lit by a dazzling glare, followed by an earth-shaking blast. Even the ground beneath their feet trembled. All present were stunned. Oboi instinctively drew his sword and leapt in front of Hong Taiji, barking, “Guards, protect His Majesty!”
“Don’t panic!” Hong Taiji shoved Oboi aside and chided, “The Red Barbarian cannons can’t reach this far.”
“But it sounded like thunderclaps, Your Majesty,” Oboi protested.
“Thunder doesn’t make such a racket,” Hong Taiji frowned. “Judging by the sound, it’s as if a powder magazine exploded. Go—send someone east at once. Find out if something has happened to Tulai.”
“Yes, sir.” Oboi hurried off and returned in less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.
Seeing the dark look on Oboi’s face, Hong Taiji’s heart sank. “And Tulai?” he asked.
Oboi replied sorrowfully, “Your Majesty, Tulai was killed in the explosion.”
Hong Taiji’s brow furrowed in silence, but Manzhu Xili and the others cried out in shock, “Killed in an explosion?”
Oboi nodded grimly, grinding his teeth. “The cunning Southern Ming packed the wagons with gunpowder. As soon as Tulai and his men arrived, the Ming abandoned the wagons and retreated into the city. The barrels exploded just as Tulai’s troops reached them. Of the five hundred cavalry, more than three hundred were killed instantly, the rest all wounded. Tulai… was among the dead.”
“What? More than three hundred killed? And the rest all wounded?”
Manzhu Xili felt as though his heart was bleeding. Those cavalry had been the elite of the Manggus tribe.
“I was careless—far too careless,” Hong Taiji lamented. “I never imagined the Ming would booby-trap the wagons. Truly, I was caught off guard.”