Weird Three Kingdoms

Chapter 3718 Celebration of the Workers
On the battlefield, luck is often a mysterious thing.

The west wall of Gongxian County.

Outside the sturdy city walls, some earthen ramparts and simple wooden arrow towers were built, exceeding the height of the earthen walls that the cavalry had advanced through.

At this moment, smoke filled the air near the earthen rampart.

The roar of cannons was deafening.

Four six-pound cannons bombarded the earthen ramparts, similarly sending stone chips flying everywhere from the city walls of Gongxian.

The Cao army soldiers on the earthen ramparts of Gongxian city, seeing that the cannons were about to fire, scattered and hid. Only after the cannons had bombarded them did they raise their heads and fire a few arrows.

After a while, the artillery fire stopped and the smoke dissipated.

Artillery cannot be fired for extended periods.

Once the cannon fire subsided, Cao Cao's soldiers seemed to have been reborn, laughing and joking as they came back to life.

They only needed to stay alive, but the Cao army generals had much more to consider...

The outer moat was gradually filled in, and large holes were dug in the earthen mound.

There were charred remains around the cave entrance, traces of the battle that took place two days prior.

The cavalry pretended to break through the tunnel and set a trap, killing dozens of Cao soldiers who tried to fight back.

As the attacking side, you have the authority to choose the pace and direction of your attack, while the defending side can only guess and respond based on experience.

The three key defensive features of Gongxian County—the Sishui River, the trenches, and the earthen ramparts—have now been largely identified.

After the rainy season in summer and autumn, the Sishui River gradually enters its dry season. Whether building a bridge or wading directly through the water, the problem is not too big.

With the help of nature, the deep trenches collapsed and loosened considerably after the rainy season, and with the addition of timber and planks dropped from the rear, they gradually filled in some attack routes.

As for the earthen mound in front of us...

These earthen ramparts were basically byproducts of the trenches dug by Cao Cao's army. They served as outposts in Gong County, housing armored soldiers, auxiliary troops, and some civilian laborers. Their main purpose was to serve as troop anchors; if their connection with the main city were severed, these ramparts would be difficult to defend.

Surrounded by a troop of guards, Cao Hong made his way to a relatively safe position during a lull in the artillery fire. After observing the situation for a moment, he asked his adjutant, "How many troops did the General of the Cavalry bring today?"

"There were two or three thousand. They attacked three times, engaged once..." the lieutenant replied. "They retreated when we tried to encircle them."

Cao Hong frowned. "Is this a prelude to attack, or a feint?"

The deputy general stood to the side, knowing that Cao Hong was asking a question, but he dared not answer and did not know how to answer.

Their original plan was to block the cavalry and deplete their manpower.

Indeed, Cao Hong did manage to halt the advance of the Flying Cavalry eastward, but it seemed to have little effect.

General Fei Qian drew troops from the Longyou and Xiliang areas, as well as soldiers from the Guanzhong strategic reserve and officers from the Guanzhong Military Academy training camp, and quickly formed a new force. What Cao Hong did not know was that Fei Qian had also specially transferred Jiang Jiong, the original commander of Longxi, to the northern front. This made it easier for Fei Qian, Zhang Liao, or other generals to control the newly recruited soldiers.

The reason why high-ranking military officers are regularly rotated in later generations is the same.

Cao Hong intercepted Fei Qian, who then used this time to gain control of the replenishment of troops.

Who actually benefited in this process?
Hard to say.

Just like the artillery of the Flying Cavalry, it looks like they are directly bombarding the earthen city walls, with tiles and stones flying everywhere, which is very impressive. However, in reality, because the city walls of the Chinese mainland are much stronger and more solid than the thin city walls of the Western Regions, the actual direct killing power is not very strong.

On the contrary, the flying bricks and stones, as well as the splash damage, caused many casualties among Cao's soldiers.

So, is it the destructive power of artillery or the damage from bricks and stones?

It's hard to say either.

Previously, the main force of the Flying Cavalry had not been revealed, but now it seemed to be preparing to launch a direct attack from Gongxian Sishui Pass. The cavalry and infantry at the front line crossed the Sishui River and, under the cover of artillery, launched several attacks on Cao's fortifications outside Gongxian.

Does this really mean that the Flying Cavalry is going to break through from the middle?

After much deliberation, Cao Hong felt it was still hard to say...

Fei Qian, Fei the Fox...

After Cao Hong of Cao Army redeployed his mobile forces, effectively losing the ability to launch a surprise attack while the enemy was crossing the Si River, the Flying Cavalry could cross the Si River with impunity and launch an attack. Meanwhile, Cao Army found it difficult to counterattack, which gradually shifted the tide of the battle in favor of the Flying Cavalry.

However, the Flying Cavalry did not launch a general attack, which surprised Cao Hong.

At this moment, Cao Hong would prefer that the Flying Cavalry break through Cao's defensive fortifications and suffer heavy losses, rather than engaging in such piecemeal attacks.

Cao Hong also knew that he wouldn't get any good advice from his deputy, Wang Sima.

Since Guo Jia's death, Cao Cao's army has gradually become lacking in intelligence. On the one hand, there have been continuous battle losses, and on the other hand, the original Shandong gentry or former nobles of the Han Dynasty have begun to hide their talents and are not willing to step forward to give Cao Cao's army any advice, but instead work quietly.

This infuriated Cao Hong, but he was powerless to do anything about it.

Wise strategies only arise in the mind; they are not expressed, so no one can know them directly.

According to Cao Cao's original plan, the Flying Cavalry would be pulled back and blocked at Gong County, and then suffer heavy losses at Sishui Pass. Then Cao Cao's army could look for an opportunity to encircle the Flying Cavalry from the north and south, trapping them in the Gong County area of ​​Heluo...

However, while the blocking has been successful, it's still a long way from a truly disastrous outcome.

So, was it Cao Jun who succeeded, or Cao Hong who succeeded?

The best outcome Cao Cao and Cao Hong could envision was for the Flying Cavalry to split into two forces, one in the north and one in the south. This would expose the Flying Cavalry's weakness in terms of overall manpower, allowing Cao Cao's army to push its defensive line back. This would require a large amount of manpower for the Flying Cavalry to occupy or repair their positions. However, Cao Cao's army would obviously not allow the Flying Cavalry to occupy and repair their positions so easily. The more the Flying Cavalry was spread out, the easier it would be for Cao Cao's army to find opportunities for a counterattack.

Of course, there are still many difficulties in counterattacking, such as the lack of cavalry.

Cao Hong only had a little over a thousand cavalrymen, and they were hastily assembled, which was no match for the Flying Cavalry.

The reason Cao Hong assigned Cao Zhang to deal with Zang Ba's problem in the rear was partly to integrate these hastily assembled cavalry.

But no matter how they integrated them, even with the addition of Cao Cao's remaining direct cavalry, they were still somewhat outmatched against the Flying Cavalry.

"They've brought up cannons again!"

Just as Cao Hong was pondering, the Cao army soldier on lookout duty shouted.

Cao Hong looked up and saw another troop of cavalrymen escorting several cannons slowly approaching. He couldn't help but sigh in his heart. Without saying anything more, he turned around, left the earthen mound, and hid in a safe position behind.

Cao Hong and his entourage left in a hurry, while the Cao soldiers left behind at the earthen rampart cast various ambiguous glances at their departing figures...

After a short while, the cannons of the Flying Cavalry roared again, and the Cao soldiers could no longer keep an eye on Cao Hong and his men. Instead, they hurriedly began to look for safe corners.

……

……

On the west bank of the Sishui River, the forward artillery positions of the Flying Cavalry.

The smoke had not completely dissipated, and the air was filled with the familiar pungent smell of sulfur mixed with scorched earth.

The four six-pound cannons, with their thick barrels still emitting wisps of blue smoke, were scorching hot.

The artillery crew members, their faces covered in soot and sweat running down their cheeks, were busy working in a tense but orderly manner.

One person quickly dipped a long-handled brush into a bucket of water, then, disregarding the high temperature of the cannon muzzle, inserted the brush into the muzzle to clean the gunpowder residue remaining on the inner wall of the cannon barrel.

The cannon emitted a satisfying hissing sound, as if a key point had been scratched, and immediately sprayed out a lot of grayish-white matter.

Before the long-handled brush could be completely pulled out of the muzzle, another person came with a wooden pestle wrapped in wet burlap. He stood one foot in front of the other, pushing against the smoke and dust at the muzzle, repeatedly poking and stirring to transfer the molten slag from the muzzle onto the burlap and ensure the inside of the barrel was clean.

The craftsmen on the side were not idle either, but bent down to check the wear and tear on the gun carriage axles and traction rigging.

Each firing is a huge drain on the artillery itself, and maintenance cannot be taken lightly.

The newly appointed artillery captain, Zhao, was a man with a dark complexion, large joints, and a robust physique.

He stared at the Wu-shaped cannon, letting the smoke from its spray envelop him, as if he could still feel the lingering heat of the previous firing...

The pungent smell of sulfur mixed with burning metal would be quite offensive to most people, but Zhao Hong, the artillery captain, found it very pleasant.

Zhao Hong stood steadily on the artillery position; he did not participate in the specific cleanup work.

He was using his arm as a support, intently adding new markings to a wooden tablet in the last rays of the setting sun.

The last rays of the setting sun pierced through the lingering smoke, casting dappled light and shadow on his face, which was covered in soot.

He raised his head, squinted slightly, and his gaze seemed to pierce through the busy artillerymen and the billowing dust, landing on some distant and blurry space-time.

Cannons are hard, cold, yet scalding hot.

This reminded him of the barren, rough stones on the mountain ridge of his hometown in Longxi. It also reminded him of his father, a man whose back was hunched over like the roots of an old elm tree, and his hands covered in calluses, with large, deformed knuckles.

Those hands, only capable of gripping hoes and plows, toiled for a living in the cracks between rocks, day after day, year after year, from sunrise to sunset, from youth to old age. The land belonged to the landlord, the sweat was their own, yet the harvest was as thin as a layer of topsoil, gone with a gust of wind.

His life trajectory was originally meant to be an extension of his father's footsteps.

They were born in the tenant farmer's house and died in the tenant farmer's house. Their activity range was limited to the master's estate within a radius of twenty li.

The furthest I ever went was probably when I followed my father, pushing a creaking wheelbarrow, to deliver the meager rent grain from the landlord to the town market ten miles away.

outside world?
That's something I wouldn't even dare to dream of.

As for reading and writing?
That's a matter for the masters and young masters; what does it have to do with a peasant like him?
But now he can write.

"E-type cannon, fourth round of calibration firing."

Zhao Hong's voice was steady as he took notes and read aloud, "Target: Section B salient of the earthen rampart. Charge: 3.2 jin. Angle of fire: 2.7 fen. Impact point: 15 chi to the left of the target, landing on the edge of the trench, splash damage killing three people, no direct hit on the rampart."

As he spoke, a young clerk beside him quickly recorded the time, gun number, parameters, and observation results in another booklet.

In duplicate.

One copy was kept by the craftsmen, and the other was submitted to the logistics department for filing.

After finishing his notes, Zhao Hong straightened up and squinted at the earthen mounds on the opposite bank, which looked even more menacing in the twilight due to the bombardment.

The clamor of Cao's army could be faintly heard across the Sishui River, carrying the bravado of someone who had survived a calamity.

"snort……"

Artillery Commander Zhao Hong snorted coldly.

Those Cao soldiers thought that once the cannons stopped, they were safe and could laugh and curse as they pleased.

Little did they know that every boom and pause of artillery fire was etching new marks on the precise measuring scale of the Flying Cavalry.

Just like the changes that the Flying Cavalry made on the land of Longxi, it gave many people's lives a new dimension, including Zhao Hong's own.

Zhao Hong's life, according to the old standards, was like the biting cold wind of winter in Longxi, a stomach that could never be filled, his mother's sorrowful sighs as she sewed tattered clothes under the oil lamp, and his father's silent labor in the fields, his bent back and hunched waist making him look more like an animal than a human being.

Especially eyes dulled by life's hardships, unable to see the future clearly.

He thought he would follow in his father's footsteps.

then……

Everything has changed.

The banner of the General of the Cavalry was like a thunderclap tearing through the dull sky of Longxi.

Divide the fields, open up the country, and build schools!

He still remembers the fear and wonder he felt when he first stepped into that simple yet bright village school.

When his rough fingers first clumsily grasped the wooden stick and drew a trembling, curved line on the rough sand table, he almost burst into tears!
Those mysterious symbols were originally part of the mathematics of the master and young master...

In his eyes, however, they were more vibrant than the newly sprouted wheat seedlings on the ridges of the field!

They were like keys, unlocking a vast and dizzying world he had never imagined.

He studied exceptionally hard. He knew this was the only opportunity his father had provided, supported by his own back, and his mother had painstakingly mended with needle and thread.

He was no longer just the son of a tenant farmer, only able to look down at the edge of the fields. He raised his head and saw the sky, the mountains and rivers on the map, and...

The cannon before me, both cold and fiery, represents life and destruction!

"Reporting, Captain! The chamber is clean! The moisture has evaporated!"

The artillery crew leader's voice pulled him back to reality from his daze.

Zhao Hong took a deep breath of the fried noodles. The strong smell of gunpowder in the air instantly dispelled the earthy and musty smell of his old house in Longxi from his memory.

The golden light of the setting sun fell on his shoulders and on his hands, which once only knew how to hold a hoe handle, but now held a charcoal pencil steadily, accurately recording the angle of fire, the amount of gunpowder, and the deviation.

He was no longer Zhao Gou'er, the tenant farmer's son who couldn't even write his own name.

He is now Zhao Hong, the Artillery Commandant of the Cavalry Army.

"Captain, those Cao dogs are up and running again." A lookout slid down from a makeshift wooden frame and reported dismissively, "They hide fast, and they come out fast too, like groundhogs."

Zhao Hong nodded, turned his head, and looked at the water clock marker placed not far away. "Record! From the end of the artillery bombardment to the return of the first batch of Cao Cao's soldiers to their posts—one quarter and three minutes have elapsed."

This time was a little shorter than yesterday.

This indicates that Cao Cao's army is developing an almost instinctive "adaptive" response to the intervals between artillery fire.

And this is exactly what the Flying Cavalry wanted.

He looked towards the earthen ramparts of Cao Cao's army on the opposite bank.

There might be other boys there, just like him back then, innocently holding knives and guns, wasting their lives for some vague promise or simply to survive.

But they ultimately became different...

This situation is very common.

As Zhao Hong followed the banner of the General of the Cavalry, there were many other young men from farming families, just like Zhao Hong, who came from Longxi or even further afield.

In the beginning, they, like Zhao Hong, sat in the school, using their rough hands, like chicken claws, to grasp the wooden stick and draw on the sand table, trying to redraw a new mark on their lives.

However, not many people succeed.

The sand table is small, but it's also very large.

Not everyone can truly settle down and replace their hoe with a pen...

Some people gave up, as if they had dropped a stone.

They believed that those twisted and convoluted symbols were stones they would never remember.

In their eyes, a stone is just a stone; even if the patterns are different, they are all stones.

However, Zhao Hong believed that stones also differed, and that by recognizing their textures and identifying the differences, one could learn a great deal…

Just like the words he learned, and the life he rewrote.

He grabbed the sand table and the stick, like a drowning man grabbing a lifeline, and escaped the quagmire that seemed to forever trap his father and him, while many of the others who had dropped the stick went back to holding hoes.

It's hard to say who's good or bad, or who's right or wrong.

It can only be said that everyone makes different choices.

Zhao Hong chose a new path, while the others chose old habits.

Just like the Guanzhong and Shandong regions during the Han Dynasty.

Zhao Hong picked up a charcoal pencil and marked a new mark on the wooden board at the location of section B of the earthen mound, representing the measured deviation.

His movements were steady and precise.

Every shooting practice, every record, every act of perseverance amidst the smoke and fire is a complete farewell to his past fate and a firm affirmation of his current choice.

He put down his pen, raised his voice, and gave the order with a rock-solid calm that pierced through the twilight: "E-type guns, prepare! Three pounds and one ounce of propellant, adjust the firing angle slightly to the right by one minute. Target! Pre-positioned assembly area behind section B of the embankment! Next round of calibration firing, commence!"

The soldiers around the cannon got busy, and the cannon mount made a dull adjustment sound again.

Zhao Hong's gaze went beyond the cannon muzzle, looking towards the eastern horizon.

That was Gongxian, Sishui Pass, and a vast world that his father had never imagined.

He knew that the road ahead was long, and there would be countless fortified cities and strongholds, just like the earthen ramparts in front of him, blocking the way. But this time, he would not be trapped in that twenty-mile cage.

He would follow the banner of the General of the Cavalry, the banner that had changed him and the fate of countless people like him, and move forward.

With the power at his fingertips, with the precise markings and the roar of cannons, he blasted away all obstacles in his path until that flag was planted across the mountains and rivers his father had never seen.

This is his path, a path leading from the field ridges to the distance, to a new world.

He is walking on this path, his steps firm, never looking back.