Chapter Seventeen: A Narrow Encounter

Shengjing, Imperial Palace.

Scarface hurried into the Hall of Upright Governance and reported to Wang Pu, “General, the Jurchens have fallen for it!”

“Oh?” Wang Pu couldn’t help but glance at Zhen Youcai, then asked, “So the Jurchens have truly taken the bait?”

“They have, indeed.” Scarface nodded. “I saw it clearly from the city wall—over two thousand Jurchen cavalrymen, torches in hand, left their main camp and went in pursuit of the Bearded One’s group.”

“Over two thousand cavalry?” Wang Pu nodded. “Several hundred Jurchen cavalrymen were blown up outside the east gate, and now another two thousand are on the move. It seems they've sent out all their forces.”

Scarface licked his lips and suggested, “General, should we take advantage of the situation and strike the Jurchen camp outside the south gate? Maybe we’ll catch a big fish.”

“Nonsense.” Wang Pu rebuked him. “Daishan and Jirgalang have already been captured—what big fish could possibly remain outside the south gate? The most important thing now is to withdraw from Shengjing, and the faster the better. We must not risk everything for a small gain.”

“Yes, yes.” Scarface replied quickly. “I was being foolish.”

“Scarface!” Wang Pu said sternly, “Have the men rest while they can. We leave in one hour!”

Scarface asked, “Are we still leaving through the east gate?”

“Yes,” Wang Pu replied gravely. “The most dangerous place is often the safest. We already failed once at the east gate—the Jurchens won’t expect us to break out there again. Besides, even if they do realize, it will be too late. In two hours, their main force will be a hundred miles away in pursuit. Hmph!”

***

An hour later, flames rose high over Shengjing. The Jurchen imperial palace, spanning three hundred acres, along with the prince and noble estates on both flanks, were engulfed in a sea of fire. As the inferno broke out, a series of thunderous explosions echoed from the city walls. Sixteen Western-style red-barreled cannons, mounted on the battlements, were blasted skyward, crashing down as heaps of twisted metal.

In the blazing glow, Wang Pu led the remaining nine hundred house guards out of Shengjing.

Such a raging fire and such massive explosions were impossible to conceal from the Jurchens. Nor had Wang Pu ever intended to hide them. Now, the Jurchen main force had been lured a hundred miles away by the Bearded One’s feint. By the time they realized the ruse and dispatched riders to recall their cavalry, several hours would have passed—and by then, Wang Pu and his men would be well beyond their reach.

According to plan, Wang Pu led his nine hundred house guards fifty miles east before extinguishing their torches. Before dawn, they would suddenly turn south, making straight for Joseon—an obvious feint meant to throw off any pursuers.

“Something’s wrong!” After traveling east for about ten miles, Wang Pu abruptly reined in his horse and muttered to himself, “Something isn’t right.”

Following closely, Zhen Youcai rode up and asked, “General, what’s the matter?”

Wang Pu replied, “Zhen Youcai, don’t you find our surroundings a bit odd?”

“Huh?” Zhen Youcai peered into the pitch-dark wilderness, then nodded in dawning realization. “You’re right, General. Now that you mention it, something does seem strange.”

“It’s gone too smoothly!” Wang Pu said in a low voice. “So smoothly that it’s almost unnatural!”

Zhen Youcai nodded. “Even if the Jurchen main cavalry has been drawn off, they should have left some scouting parties behind. But we haven’t encountered a single Jurchen patrol on our way out. That’s definitely odd.”

Wang Pu suddenly raised his hand and shouted, “Halt!”

His sharp cry cut through the clatter of hooves, reaching every house guard’s ear. The galloping riders quickly tightened their reins. The rolling cavalry column slowed, then stopped altogether. Scarface, who was leading the way, hurried back and asked in surprise, “General, what’s happened?”

Wang Pu replied, “No time for questions. Have the men form up immediately.”

Seeing the grave look on Wang Pu’s face, Scarface dared not ask more. He turned and shouted, “Brothers, form a defensive ring! Quickly!”

***

Several miles ahead, two thousand Jurchen cavalrymen lay silently in ambush amid the dense wild grass.

Seeing the torches of their prey suddenly halt, Ta Zhan and Ebilun poked their heads above the grass. Ta Zhan asked suspiciously, “What’s going on? The Southern Ming dogs seem to have stopped moving.”

Ebilun shook his head. “Who knows what tricks these Ming dogs are up to?”

Ta Zhan suggested, “Should we attack now?”

Ebilun shook his head again. “Better wait a bit. They’re still too far away.”

***

The well-trained house guards sprang into action. They had the thousand-odd warhorses link tails, forming several large circles—a strict ring-shaped defensive formation. These horses were all battle-hardened, used to the smoke and chaos of war, and remained calm even in the fiercest fighting.

“General, the formation is ready.” Scarface jogged to Wang Pu and asked, “But where are the Jurchens?”

Wang Pu pointed forward and said in a low voice, “If I’m not mistaken, they’re waiting for us up ahead.”

Scarface hesitated. “Weren’t the Jurchens off chasing the Bearded One’s group? How could they have gotten ahead of us?”

Wang Pu replied, “If there are no Jurchens ahead, so much the better. But caution is always wise.”

Scarface panted, “So, what now?”

Wang Pu ordered, “Go and gather six hundred men.”

Scarface went to carry out the command.

Wang Pu gazed toward the dark eastern horizon, a hint of killing intent in his eyes.

As a modern man, Wang Pu knew well that the Jurchens’ advantage lay in their cavalry, while the Ming army’s edge was in their firearms. In history, the Ming suffered repeated defeats at the hands of the Jurchens largely because their firearms were used ineffectively and their full potential was never realized. Take muskets, arquebuses, and three-barreled guns for example—they should have been the Jurchen cavalry’s nightmare. Yet, in reality, the Ming troops equipped with advanced firearms could not overcome the Jurchen horsemen and often became helpless victims on the battlefield.

Was it that firearms were useless against cavalry?

Of course not. The main reason for the Ming’s defeats was their neglected armaments—much of their weaponry was unusable. Another reason was their lack of tactics; early firearms had limited range and only massed volleys could threaten cavalry. But the Ming soldiers fought piecemeal, firing at will, making it difficult to pose any real threat. After one shot, there was rarely a chance for a second.

If given the choice, Wang Pu would have avoided a skirmish with the Jurchen cavalry here and now, for his house guards had not undergone systematic modern shooting training. In so short a time, he could not be sure they would grasp the intricacies of volley fire and achieve the desired density. Unfortunately, he had no choice left.

In his previous life, Wang Pu had been a gang leader, living for years under the constant threat of assassination. This twisted existence had honed in him an almost supernatural sense for danger.

Wang Pu sensed the killing intent lurking ahead! He might not know the Jurchens’ exact position, but he was certain they were waiting just in front.

***

The Jurchen cavalry hidden ahead could strike at any moment. Time was running out for Wang Pu. He had to teach his men the tactics of volley fire in the shortest possible time. In actual battle, Wang Pu intended to use six ranks for the volley, as he was not confident in his troops’ firearms.

Six hundred house guards quickly assembled, standing in six lines of one hundred each.

With no time to waste, Wang Pu got straight to the point, barking, “Everyone must remember their squad number. When I call ‘First Squad,’ only the first squad will act; the other five will hold their positions. When I call ‘All squads,’ everyone acts together. Understood?”

“Understood!” the six hundred guards bellowed in unison.

“Good.” Wang Pu nodded, then suddenly shouted, “First squad, kneel!”

The first hundred guards dropped to one knee.

“Second squad, kneel!”

The second line followed suit.

One by one, Wang Pu ordered each line down until all six were kneeling. Then he commanded, “All squads, stand!”

With a rustle, all six hundred men rose to their feet.

“Excellent, just like that,” Wang Pu said, satisfied. “When I call ‘First squad, prepare,’ the first squad will raise their firearms and take aim, but do not fire. Only when I give the order to ‘Fire’ will you shoot together. After firing, the first squad will immediately fall back behind the sixth line to reload. Is that clear?”

“Clear!” the six hundred guards thundered.

“Good.” Wang Pu nodded. Suddenly he raised his sword and barked, “First squad, prepare!”

The first hundred house guards promptly raised their firearms, aiming as one toward the front.

[An aside: The Ming army’s firearms—such as arquebuses, muskets, and three-barreled guns—were all primitive matchlocks. Each matchlock had a curved cock that could rotate around an axis; the top end held a burning match cord. When firing, the soldier pressed down the cock, bringing the smoldering match into the flash pan, igniting the powder charge, and firing the bullet down the barrel.]

“Fire!”

Wang Pu gave the command, and a hundred guards pressed their cocks almost simultaneously. Instantly, a deafening thunder rolled through the night, and the acrid stench of gunpowder spread on the wind. After firing, the front line quickly moved behind the sixth row to reload in haste.

Wang Pu nodded slightly—he was satisfied with their performance.

But this was only a drill. Whether the guards could remain calm and obey orders when faced with the overwhelming charge of the Jurchen cavalry would only be proven in actual combat.

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