20demayo Chapter 76 Going to War
Chapter 76 Going to War
On the first day of the seventh month of the second year of the Tianqi reign, the army broke camp.
On the official road outside Jinan, dust obscured the sky. An army of 50,000 (actually about 30,000) stretched for more than ten miles, with banners waving, appearing majestic and imposing, but in reality, it was a huge mess.
The sounds of bugles, the neighing of mules and horses, the shouts of officers, and the cries of the forced laborers blended into a murky wave of noise.
In this murky river, a clear stream stands out as an anomaly.
Lu Yan's "Directly Subordinate Supply Battalion" marched along the flank of the central army. Forty-eight armored sidecars were lined up in a column. The wheels rolled over the dry road, making a dull, rhythmic rumble.
Eight hundred militia soldiers, dressed in uniform dark gray cotton armor and each wearing a dust mask, walked silently along both sides of the wagon. They did not whisper to each other, nor did they urinate or defecate indiscriminately; they even drank water in unison during breaks in the march.
This almost obsessive discipline drew sidelong glances and ridicule from the officers and soldiers nearby.
"Look at those idiots, still bundled up so tightly in this sweltering heat!"
"I heard it was a scholar who passed the imperial examinations and was leading the troops. Scholars are just so fussy and picky!"
Lu Yan remained mounted on his horse, ignoring the mockery. He was observing.
His gaze fell upon a cavalry unit ahead bearing the banner of "Tianjin Town." They were a group of cavalrymen with Liaodong accents, each with a fierce face, their horses laden with stolen chickens, ducks, and even women's undergarments. They galloped recklessly through the farmland, trampling the nearly ripe crops to smithereens.
"Bandits pass by like a comb, soldiers pass by like a fine brush."
Lu Yan coldly wrote a line in his notebook: "The guest army has extremely poor discipline and relies entirely on looting for supplies. It's more like an armed parade than a rebellion."
As we were walking, the intersection ahead suddenly became blocked.
The cavalry from Tianjin Town stopped, and several cavalrymen were shouting and cursing at a supply wagon that was stuck in the mud, even waving whips at the laborers pushing the wagon.
"Get out of my way! All of you, get out of my way!"
A blackened-faced officer, mounted on horseback and wielding an iron mace, pointed at Lu Yan's convoy and roared, "We're going to get on the road ahead! You grain transporters can get back to the fields!"
"Boss, this is a tough one." Zhao Changying rode over, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Judging from the banners, they are soldiers under Li Jiucheng, miners who escaped from the Liaodong area."
Lu Yan narrowed his eyes. The field was full of mud; his heavy-duty van would be totaled if it went down there.
"Tell them that we are an independent battalion personally approved by the Commander-in-Chief, and we are following military orders to take the central route," Lu Yan said calmly.
Zhao Changying stepped forward to negotiate, but the captain was clearly a scoundrel. He opened his mouth with a string of Liaodong swear words with a high profanity level, and even raised his iron mace as if to hit him.
Just as a conflict was about to erupt, Zhao Tie suddenly rushed out from behind.
The usually taciturn old blacksmith, however, seemed to have been under some kind of spell. He stared intently at the officer, his voice trembling, "You...you're from Fushun Pass?"
The captain was taken aback, reined in his horse, and looked Zhao Tie up and down. His expression changed, especially when he saw Zhao Tie's crippled leg and the steel hand hammer hanging at his waist.
"Old cripple, how did you know?" The captain spat, his tone carrying a hint of camaraderie.
"I...I'm a craftsman from Qiantunwei." Zhao Tie staggered forward, pulling out a pair of red tiger-head shoes from his pocket, his eyes red-rimmed. "Sir, I have something to ask you. In the 46th year of the Wanli reign, when Fushun fell, there was a woman named Zhao Lian'er..."
The captain looked at the shoes, and the ferocity in his eyes dissipated somewhat, replaced by a numbness as if he were looking at a dead man.
"Old cripple, stop looking."
The captain sneered, a mockery of despair. "Forty-six years? That was four years ago. Back then, the Jurchens had wiped out every rat in Fushun. The men were beheaded and their heads were used to build mounds of corpses, and the women... well, it was a miracle if they died in a well."
Zhao Tie swayed, as if his spine had been removed.
"Alright, get out of the way." The captain seemed somewhat disheartened, waving his hand to signal his cavalry to clear a path. "Considering we're all struggling in Liaodong, I won't make things difficult for you today. You can go this way."
When Lu Yan rode past the captain, he deliberately stopped for a moment.
"Thank you." Lu Yan cupped his hands in thanks. "My name is Lu Yan. May I ask your honorable name, sir?"
That guy glanced sideways at Lu Yan, his gaze greedily sweeping over the flintlock pistol at Lu Yan's waist. He grinned, revealing a mouthful of black teeth.
"Kong Youde".
Lu Yan's heart skipped a beat.
Kong Youde. The protagonist of the future "Kong Youde Rebellion," the traitor who surrendered to the Later Jin with his artillery troops, completely changing the course of the Ming-Qing war. Right now, he is just a low-ranking officer struggling to survive in the Ming army, covered in coal dust.
"So it was Commander Kong."
Lu Yan calmly took out a fifty-tael silver note from his sleeve and casually slipped it into Kong Youde's wrist guard. "It's our first meeting. Buy the brothers a drink. If you ever need anything from Lu's in the future, just let us know."
Kong Youde squeezed the silver note, his eyes instantly lighting up. He gave Lu Yan a deep look, then glanced at the well-equipped sidecars, and nodded meaningfully.
"So you're Scholar Lu, aren't you? You're quite generous. From now on, in the army, if anyone dares to bully your convoy, just mention my name, Kong Maozi."
……
The convoy continued on its way.
Zhao Tie sat on the carriage shaft, clutching the tiger-head shoes tightly in his hands, without saying a word.
"Uncle Zhao," Lu Yan said in a low voice as he rode beside him, "Don't believe everything that Kong Youde says. Liaodong is so big, no news is good news."
"Master, please don't try to comfort me." Zhao Tie raised his head, the last glimmer of hope in his cloudy eyes extinguished, replaced by a chilling, deathly coldness. "I know, Lian'er is definitely gone. I don't want to look for her anymore."
He turned his head and looked at the trucks behind him covered with tarpaulins of gunpowder and the newly made breech-loading cannons.
"Master, I've figured out a bit about that 'exploding bomb' you mentioned last time. As long as you give me enough refined iron, I can make it."
"Okay." Lu Yan nodded. "Then build it. Build the biggest one."
Hatred is sometimes a more effective fuel than bounty.
Lu Yan glanced back at the long line of people behind him. He knew that in this chaotic world, everyone had their own hell. Zhao Tie's hell was in Liaodong, Kong Youde's hell was the infighting in officialdom, and his hell, Lu Yan's hell, was not being able to turn these people into knives in his hands.
"This is just the beginning," Lu Yan thought to himself. "Kong Youde, we will meet again."