The Golden Family, rising from the Western Regions

Chapter 420 The Emperor's Personal Expedition: The Decisive Battle in the Southern Desert

News of the Ming Dynasty's eastern expedition spread like wildfire throughout the Jin Dynasty's territory.

In a tavern in Zhongdu, several young noblemen dressed in brocade robes were shouting and yelling around a table, their faces flushed.

"Those Ming people are truly ignorant of their own limitations. They are nothing but barbarian beasts from the northern frontier. They have won a few battles by luck, and they dare to provoke my Great Jin?"

"Back then, our Great Jin destroyed the Liao and defeated the Song. How mighty we were! Were we afraid of them?"

A fat man with big ears chimed in, "That's right, a bunch of barbarians who don't even respect Confucius and Mencius, they don't even have an imperial examination system, they rely entirely on military officers to become officials, how long can such a court last?"

"Our warriors of the Great Jin will surely drive them back to the Western Regions and let them know who the masters of the Central Plains are."

They recounted the Jin Dynasty's military achievements over the past few decades with great enthusiasm, as if they could scare away the Ming Dynasty's 200,000 iron cavalry simply by shouting loud enough.

But if you look closely, you'll notice that their hands holding the wine glasses are trembling slightly.

Last night, many aristocratic families secretly sent their families and gold and silver to the south. Their tough words were nothing but self-deception.

Unlike the blind clamor of the aristocratic bureaucrats, the lives of ordinary people were already shrouded in panic.

The once bustling markets in Zhongdu were deserted, with vendors huddled behind their stalls, eyeing passersby warily.

At the city gate, a long line of people wanted to flee the city, but the soldiers guarding the city used knives and sticks to drive them away, shouting, "No one is allowed to escape. Anyone who tries to escape is a traitor."

A woman, holding her child's hand and clutching a cloth bag in her arms, cried incessantly, "How am I supposed to live like this?"

"We barely survived the famine a few years ago, and now we have to fight a war. What will happen to my daughter and me if the Ming army invades?"

The old man next to him sighed, shook his head, and said, "What else can we do? We can only leave it to fate."

"If the imperial army can win, that's fine, but if they lose... we ordinary people will still suffer in the end."

In the Central Plains, however, this panic was tinged with a numb sense of bewilderment.

On the official road outside Yanzhou City, groups of disaster victims dragged their weary steps forward. They were emaciated, dressed in rags, and some were even holding children who were crying from hunger.

Hearing that the Ming Dynasty was going to attack the Jin Dynasty, someone asked curiously, "What is the Ming Dynasty? Can they feed us?"

After receiving a negative answer, they stopped asking questions and continued on their way with their heads down.

For them, it didn't matter who became emperor or who fought whom; what mattered was whether they could survive.

"The Red Coat Army is distributing food in Chenjiazhuang ahead. As long as you are willing to join, you can have enough to eat."

One of the disaster victims suddenly shouted, as if grasping at a straw.

These words instantly ignited everyone's hope, and the previously exhausted crowd immediately stirred, surging towards Chenjiazhuang.

A middle-aged man carrying a child on his back staggered forward, muttering, "Whether it's the Red Turban Army or the Ming Army, as long as they give me food, I'll follow them."

"The Jin court doesn't care about our lives or deaths, so we have to find our own way to survive."

The young man next to him nodded vigorously, his eyes gleaming with a will to survive: "Yes, joining the Red Coat Army will not only provide us with food, but we can also kill those Jin dogs who bully us, and maybe we can even survive."

The disaster victims quickened their pace, and their previously bewildered eyes became resolute.

They didn't care who won between the Ming Dynasty and the Jin Dynasty, nor did they care whether the Red Turban Army was a "rebel army." As long as they could fill their stomachs and survive, that was their only pursuit.

Chenjiazhuang, the Red Turban Army had just captured the village, and the soldiers were busy loading the money and silks hidden by the village's landlords onto carts.

In front of the granary, Yang Miaozhen stood beside the grain pile, holding a red-tasseled spear, her eyes filled with excitement as she watched the endless stream of disaster victims pouring in.

"Brother, look."

"With so many disaster victims coming to seek refuge, our team can grow much stronger."

"We just took inventory, and the grain we found in this village alone is enough to feed our entire army for half a month."

Yang Anguo stood aside, but frowned slightly: "This grain was originally extorted from the people by the landlords in the village."

“Their granaries were overflowing with grain, some of it was even moldy, yet they just watched the disaster victims starve to death without offering a single bite.”

"The most ruthless people in this world are these rich and heartless guys."

"Yes, these heartless rich guys should all be thrown into a vat of boiling oil!"

Yang Miaozhen nodded repeatedly, then moved closer to her brother and asked, "Brother, where should we attack next?"

"The nearby villages don't have that much grain. If we want to recruit more people, we need to find a prosperous place."

Yang Anguo looked up in the direction of Qufu, a sharp glint in his eyes: "Next, we'll attack Qufu again."

"The Kong family has a hundred or even a thousand times more grain than the Chen family village."

Yang Miaozhen's beautiful eyes were full of excitement. She gripped the red-tasseled spear in her hand and nodded vigorously: "Okay, let's attack Qufu."

“Those people from the Kong family, relying on the Golden Dog for support, bully the common people. This time, we will seek justice for the people and let them know that even if they are ‘descendants of a sage,’ they will still be punished by us if they oppress the people.”

……

In the springtime of the northern grasslands, the wind still carries a hint of chill, yet it cannot dispel the military might that blankets the mountains and plains.

"Boom boom boom~"

The golden sun and moon battle flag fluttered in the wind, and the sun and moon patterns on the flag shone brightly in the sunlight, like the sharp edge of the Ming Dynasty piercing through the vast grassland.

Below, a large army was advancing steadily, soldiers riding tall warhorses and wearing uniform yellow cloth armor.

It was the First Division army personally commanded by Li Xiao.

Some soldiers had youthful faces, clearly new recruits, but most of the veterans had sharp, eagle-like eyes, exuding the composure of someone who had been through many battles.

Beside the army of the First Town, another army, clad in white cloth armor with red trim, was also advancing slowly.

It was the army of the Sixth Town, commanded by Li Donghe, who was stationed in Xihai.

The two armies, like two torrents of steel, slowly converged on the grassland. The horses' hooves pounded the grass with a heavy thud, causing the ground to tremble slightly.

Behind the column, flocks of sheep were being driven by soldiers. Every now and then, the soldiers would pull out a few old sheep from the flock and slaughter them on the spot, and the rich aroma of meat would soon fill the air.

Goat milk and mutton were important mobile rations for this army, enabling soldiers to maintain their strength during long marches.

In the middle of the procession, a logistics team consisting of camels, oxcarts, and horse-drawn carts followed slowly, the carts loaded with food, weapons, and medicine.

This logistical method, which combined the vehicle transport of the Central Plains dynasties with the livestock accompaniment of nomadic peoples, was a unique logistical system of the Ming army.

At the very front of the procession, Li Xiao rode a jet-black warhorse, wearing a dark gold dragon-patterned cloth armor. The dragon patterns on the armor were lifelike, exuding an undeniable imperial majesty.

His gaze swept across the line ahead, his eyes calm yet sharp.

Beside him followed a young boy riding a mature mare, wearing a small-sized dark gold cloth armor. However, the dragon pattern on the armor was a four-clawed golden dragon, which lacked some of the emperor's domineering aura and had more of the boy's heroic spirit.

The boy's appearance was somewhat similar to Li Xiao's, with a stubbornness and seriousness in his eyes, like a smaller version of Li Xiao.

He was none other than Li Xiao's eldest son, Jin Dao.

During this eastern expedition, Li Xiao specially brought him along. Although he would not let him fight on the battlefield, he wanted to take advantage of this march to personally teach him the skills of marching and fighting.

"Father, do you think our logistics team is too scattered?"

Looking at the flocks of sheep on both sides and the vehicles in the middle, Jin Dao recalled what he had learned at the military academy and couldn't help but ask, "The instructors at the academy said that logistics is the lifeblood of the army. If it is too scattered, it is easy for the enemy to launch a surprise attack."

Upon hearing this, Li Xiao smiled with satisfaction, reined in his horse, pointed to the procession ahead, and spoke to Jin Dao.

"You've observed very carefully, but you need to think about it more deeply."

"The northern grasslands are vast and there are no cities to rely on. If the logistics teams are concentrated in one place, they will be too big a target and will be easier to become targets for the enemy."

"By dispersing the sheep on both sides and in the middle of the column, the sheep can move with the army and be replenished with food at any time."

"It allows the vehicles to be protected in the middle of the formation, and the soldiers can provide timely support. This is an arrangement that is adapted to local conditions."

He paused, then continued, "Military operations are not simply about frontal combat."

"Whether logistics can keep up, whether there are hidden dangers in setting up camp, and whether the army can maintain its combat effectiveness during long marches—all these factors determine the outcome of a war."

"War is not just about whose soldiers are braver, but also about who can hold out longer and who can maintain their position and prevent the enemy from finding a weakness."

Jin Dao listened attentively, nodding as he looked at the soldiers setting up camp at the rear of the column.

The soldiers skillfully set up tents and arranged the vehicles in a circle, forming a temporary defensive position.

Some things, no matter how much you hear others say about them, are not as memorable as experiencing them yourself.

"What you learn in the military academy is theory; only by combining it with actual military operations can you truly understand the principles."

Li Xiao patted Jin Dao on the shoulder, his tone filled with expectation: "During this eastern expedition, you must listen more, observe more, and think more, so that you can shoulder the responsibility of protecting the Ming Dynasty in the future."

Jin Dao nodded emphatically.

The border fortifications south of the Gobi Desert, once a barrier for the Jin Dynasty against the nomadic tribes, have now become the last hope to stop the Ming Dynasty's iron cavalry.

Duji Sizhong stood atop the highest watchtower of the defensive line, gazing at the endless earthen walls and trenches, clutching the troop deployment map tightly in his hand.

The 300,000 troops he had mobilized were lined up along the border trench, like a long steel snake, just as he had ordered.

"Issue the order: from Jingzhou in the west to Qingzhou in the east, set up a military camp every fifty li, with five thousand soldiers stationed in each camp, directly under the command of a commander of ten thousand households."

Duji Sizhong's voice carried an unquestionable authority as he addressed his personal guards: "Dig three deep trenches inside the boundary moat, and bury sharpened logs in them."

"Deploy barricades on the outer perimeter and send light cavalry to patrol day and night. Once the Ming army is spotted, immediately light the beacon fires."

The guard bowed, accepted the order, and sped away.

Duji Sizhong's gaze swept along the defensive line into the distance, where the camps of 300,000 troops stretched densely, almost reaching the horizon on both sides.

One hundred thousand of them were elite troops originally stationed on the border trench defense line, responsible for defending the vital choke point in the middle of the defense line.

The 150,000 troops were border troops conscripted from the Northeast and Hebei, stationed on the east and west wings respectively.

The remaining 50,000 were temporary recruits of local militia, responsible for logistics and the defense of the military camp.

This intensive deployment was solely to fulfill the vow he made at the court assembly: "We must keep the Ming army out of the southern desert and let the corpses of those northern barbarians fill the border trenches."

But the thought of food made Duji Sizhong's brows furrow involuntarily.

Successive disasters have severely reduced the harvest in the northern fields, causing widespread famine among the people. Furthermore, many of the military granaries in Datong Prefecture were burned down six months ago, almost cutting off the food supply for the 300,000-strong army.

Fortunately, at the critical moment, the gentry in the north "voluntarily" donated a large amount of grain. It was not that they were loyal to the Jin Dynasty, but that they had heard that the Ming Dynasty was implementing a "land to the public" policy in Guanzhong, and that all the private land of the gentry had been confiscated.

These people were afraid that they would lose their land if the Ming Dynasty attacked, so they gritted their teeth and took out their stored grain, hoping that the Jin Dynasty could hold off the Ming army.

"My lord, the grain donated by the gentry has been transported to the military camp, and it is barely enough to sustain the army for a month."

The grain official rushed over to report, his tone tinged with relief: "However, the local militia still don't have enough rations, and many have started eating wild vegetables."

Duji Sizhong was silent for a moment, then said in a deep voice, "Prioritize the supplies for the border troops and the Imperial Guards. As for the local militia... tell them to hold on a little longer."

In the following days, Duji Sizhong personally inspected the camp and saw the local militia holding empty bowls, their eyes full of exhaustion.

Seeing this, Duji Sizhong knew that if morale was not boosted, the army would collapse on its own before the Ming army could attack.

He flipped and leaped onto a high ground, slamming his riding whip heavily against the ground.

"Brothers," Duji Sizhong's voice was impassioned, "I know you've all been working hard lately, with tight rations and sore throats from swallowing wild vegetables, but I want to tell you, this is all temporary."

"The imperial court has already allocated one million shi of military rations, which have left Zhongdu and are heading towards the main camp. If you hold on for a while longer, you will be able to eat fragrant rice porridge every day."

Of course, this is definitely false. Although Zhongdu did receive some grain, it was far less than that.

"Once we defeat the Ming army, the imperial court will certainly not treat everyone unfairly."

“Each of the local militia brothers will be rewarded with fifty taels of silver and given five mu of fertile land. The border troops will be rewarded with one hundred taels of silver, given ten mu of land, and exempted from taxes for three years.”

"Just think about it, when we have money and land, we can give our wives and children a good life. Isn't that better than eating wild vegetables now?"

These words were like a pebble, stirring up ripples in the soldiers' hearts.

A young village militiaman couldn't help but look up, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"General, can the imperial court really give out so much reward money? And can we local militia also get a share of fertile land?"

“Of course,” Duji Sizhong replied immediately, his tone resolute.

“I, Ji Sizhong, swear in the name of my ancestors that as long as we defend the border fortifications and repel the Ming army, the imperial court’s rewards will only increase, not decrease.”

"Think about it, when Emperor Taizu destroyed the Liao and Song dynasties, which of the brothers who fought alongside him didn't get ennobled and appointed as generals? Now is your chance to make a name for yourself."

He knew that these words were half true and half false. The imperial court was currently in dire financial straits, and it was hard to say whether it could even scrape together five taels of silver, let alone fifty.

Not to mention land, which was the lifeblood of the aristocratic landowners. How could it possibly be given to these lowly people?

But right now, he can only rely on these "pie in the sky" to keep people's hearts at ease.

Seeing the soldiers' eyes gradually brighten, Duji Sizhong pressed his advantage, pointing to the outside of the border trench: "What are those Ming soldiers? They're just barbarians from the northern frontier."

"They only know how to ride horses and shoot arrows, what do they know about battle formations? We have 300,000 troops, a border trench defense line, and grain donated by the gentry and a million shi of military rations sent from Zhongdu."

“They have come from afar, and their supplies are definitely insufficient. If we can hold out for another half month, the Ming army will retreat on its own.”

"Keep the Ming army at bay in the southern desert, and let them never return!" Someone shouted first, and soon the shouts echoed throughout the entire military camp.

The soldiers raised their weapons, their eyes filled with either determination or bewilderment.

Seeing this scene, Duji Sizhong felt a little more at ease, at least for now, the morale of the army was still there.

……

On the other side of the border trench defense line, the Ming Dynasty's Sixth and Eighth Garrisons had already set up camps and were facing off against the Jin army across the trench.

The Eighth Division had only been established recently, and the soldiers were not yet fully integrated.

The Sixth Garrison has lost another commander, who was originally stationed in the Western Sea and is now on his way with the main force of the army.

With insufficient troops, we cannot launch a rash attack.

Half a month later, a large army appeared on the grasslands of southern Inner Mongolia.

Herds of cattle and sheep, wagons stretching for dozens of miles, and tents like a white ocean—from a distance, it looked more like a massive tribal migration.

Li Xiao rode his black horse in the middle of the procession, the golden sun and moon battle banner fluttering in the wind.

The soldiers, clad in yellow cloth armor, moved slowly toward the border trench like a golden torrent.

"His Majesty."

Wei Xuan and Da Hu had already been waiting outside the camp with their generals. Upon seeing Li Xiao, they quickly dismounted, patted their chests, and bowed, saying, "Your Majesty, we respectfully welcome you."

"No need to be polite."

Li Xiao personally dismounted and helped them up.

Although Wei Xuan and Da Hu were stationed in the northern desert, they would sometimes return to Longcheng to report on their duties or visit their relatives, so Li Xiao was not too surprised to see the changes in the two of them.

Instead, he asked, "What's the situation with the Jin army?"

Meanwhile, in the Jiehao camp, Duji Sizhong received a report from a scout: "Reporting to the commander, many cavalrymen wearing yellow armor have appeared outside Jiehao, along with golden and yellow sun and moon battle flags."

"What? Yellow cavalry?"

Duji Sizhong felt a pang of anxiety and immediately climbed the watchtower himself.

On the distant grassland, a yellow flag could be faintly seen, with soldiers wearing the same yellow cloth armor, exuding an air of majesty and nobility.

Duji Sizhong's expression was solemn: "Yellow armor and yellow flags...that's the Ming Dynasty's Imperial Guard, the First Division, Li Xiao...Li Xiao has personally led the expedition."

The news was like a thunderclap, exploding through the Jin army camp.

The soldiers looked up at the yellow flag in the distance, their eyes filled with horror.

They were not afraid of the ordinary troops of the Ming army, but they were filled with fear of the great Ming emperor who swept across the northern deserts, destroyed the Western Xia, and swallowed up Guanzhong.

Duji Sizhong suppressed his panic and shouted, "What's the rush? So what if Li Xiao is here?"

"We have 300,000 troops and a border trench defense line. We can definitely stop them. Pass down the order to strengthen the defense. We must not let the Ming army get close to the border trench."

……

In the morning light, the Ming Dynasty's camps stretched for dozens of miles like a white sea.

The newly arrived army did not rush into action. Li Xiao specifically ordered a five-day rest to allow the army to recover its strength and prepare for the upcoming battle.

Inside the golden tent, Li Xiao pointed to the hanging map of the Jin army's troop deployment and said to the golden knife beside him, "Fighting a war cannot rely on just a burst of energy; we must first understand the enemy's strengths and weaknesses."

"During this time, your uncle and maternal uncle have thoroughly investigated the Jin army's deployment. Duji Sizhong is still using the same old tactics, dispersing his 300,000 troops along the long border trench defense line, hoping to block us with the defense line."

Historically, Duji Sizhong commanded an army of 400,000 to guard the border trenches, but now he only has 300,000.

Just a few years ago, in the Battle of Guanzhong, the Ming Dynasty wiped out more than 100,000 elite Jin troops. Now, there are still two towns in Guanzhong that are holding back 100,000 Jin troops.

With the support of the Ming and Southern Song dynasties, the rebellions of the Red Turban Army and others intensified, and the Jin dynasty's mobilization capacity was greatly diminished.

In contrast, the Ming Dynasty's hundreds of thousands of elite cavalrymen were all clad in cloth or even iron armor, and were equipped with heavy weapons such as cannons and crossbows.

Their strength far surpassed that of Genghis Khan's army in history, resulting in a complete and overwhelming defeat.

Therefore, the Ming Dynasty held a significant advantage in this battle.

Jin Dao leaned closer to the blueprint, looking at the locations of the Jin army fortresses marked on it, and said thoughtfully, "Father, could we concentrate our forces and break through one point?"

"Yes."

A sharp glint flashed in Li Xiao's eyes: "Duji Sizhong has stationed a large number of troops in places like Wushabao, Wuyueying, Changzhou, Fuzhou, and Hengzhou."

“These fortresses were built according to the terrain, making them easy to defend and difficult to attack. Their strategic locations made them impossible to bypass.”

"But he dispersed his forces, which weakened the defenses of each fortress. If we concentrate our superior forces and launch a fierce attack on one of the fortresses, we can break through the Jin army's defenses."

He pointed heavily at the "Wusha Fort" sign: "Wusha Fort will do."

"This is a key node in the border trench defense line, connecting the reinforcements from the east and west flanks of the Jin army."

"Once we capture Wusha Fort, the Jin army's defenses will be breached, and we can advance deep into their territory and defeat the scattered Jin troops one by one."

Meanwhile, Da Hu and Wei Xuan sat on either side of him, watching with smiles as Li Xiao instructed Jin Dao.

Looking at the young man's energetic and earnest study, it was as if I was seeing myself when I was young.

“Your Majesty is right,” said the tiger sitting on the left, nodding.

He wore blue armor with red trim, his imposing figure taking up almost half the seat, and his voice booming like a bell when he spoke.

"That Duji Sizhong scattered 300,000 men along a defensive line that stretches for hundreds of miles, like scattering sesame seeds. Wushabao only has 30,000 troops stationed there. If we send all 60,000 of our elite troops over there, it will be like smashing an egg with a hammer."

He leaned forward and pointed with his rough fingers at the military camps on both sides of Wusha Fort on the map: "I have scouted the area and the reinforcements for Wusha Fort will have to be transferred from Wuyue Camp and Fuzhou. It will take at least three days for them to arrive."

"As long as we take Wusha Fort before then and send cavalry to guard the passage, the reinforcements will be helpless when they arrive."

"When the time comes, we'll rush in through the gap, attack Changzhou to the east and Wuyue Camp to the west, and the Jin army will be caught off guard."

Upon hearing this, Wei Xuan, who was sitting on the right, nodded slightly.

He was dressed in white armor with red trim, which made him look even more refined. When he spoke, his tone was calm but firm: "Da Hu is right, but we still need to pay attention to the terrain of Wusha Fort."

"The fortress was built on an earthen slope, and three trenches were dug around it. The Jin army also buried sharpened logs in the trenches. If we charged straight at it, there would likely be casualties."

For the three of them, solving these problems was not difficult, but the main purpose was to teach Jin Dao.

"Your Majesty, I suggest that the Divine Machine Battalion first blast open the gates of Wusha Fort, then use the Divine Arm Crossbow to suppress the defenders on the city walls, have the infantry fill in the trenches, and finally have the cavalry charge."

"This way, we can reduce casualties and achieve a quick victory, giving the Jin army no time to react."

Li Xiao nodded, his tone becoming serious: "Issue my decree: tomorrow morning, the army will officially launch an attack on the Jin Kingdom."

"The armies of the First, Sixth, and Eighth Divisions have all assembled, with the artillery battalion and the crossbow battalion leading the charge, targeting Wusha Fortress."

"Tell the soldiers that taking Wusha Fort is our greatest achievement in the eastern expedition against the Jin Kingdom. They will be rewarded accordingly and will not be treated unfairly."

"Your subject obeys the decree." Wei Xuan and Da Hu acknowledged the order in unison, turned around and quickly walked out of the command tent to convey the command.

As the sun set, a loud bugle call rang out in the Ming army camp. Soldiers began packing their gear and checking their weapons. The relaxed atmosphere in the air gradually dissipated, replaced by a chilling sense of impending doom.

A major battle that will change the fate of both countries is about to begin in Wusha Fort.

(End of this chapter)