Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 603 Hinges (Part 1)

On May 2, 1644, the last chill of winter was finally dispelled by the warm spring sun, and the snow on the plains had completely melted, revealing the dark brown earth beneath.

However, the melting snow brought not life, but an endless expanse of mud, making it difficult for people and horses to move.

The Hailang River in the northwest of the city broke free from its frozen state, and its waters became murky and turbid, carrying with them ice floes that had not yet completely melted. It roared as it rolled eastward.

The sunlight shone on the muddy water, reflecting a blinding light, but it did nothing to dispel the heavy atmosphere that permeated Ningguta.

Meile Zhangjing Sharhuda, stationed in Ningguta, was standing on the simple earthen city wall, his thick eyebrows tightly furrowed, looking northeast. His worried expression was even more somber than the melting snow.

His face was etched with deep lines by the wind and frost of the north, and he wore a slightly worn blue cotton armor, the blades of which gleamed with a cold, hard luster in the sunlight.

Logically speaking, with the weather warming up and roads gradually opening, it should be a good time to strengthen military preparedness, conduct reconnaissance missions, and even resume land reclamation. However, he felt no sense of relief as winter turned to spring, only a heavy sense of pressure.

“Lord Zhangjing,” a guard approached cautiously, offering a coarse wheat cake wrapped in cloth and a bowl of warm water, “you’ve been standing here all morning, have some food.”

Sharhuda waved his hand without turning around, and asked in a hoarse voice, "Have the scouts sent to the Blackwater direction returned?"

"My lord, he has not yet returned," Goshha replied in a low voice.

Sharhuda's brow furrowed even more.

As the weather warms up and everything comes back to life, it also means that the new Chinese people in the Heishui (Heilongjiang) and Beiqin (Xingkai Lake) areas will start to become active again.

They are like venomous snakes awakening in this season, sending out countless elite scout teams to penetrate the heart of the Qing Dynasty like knives, attacking isolated villages and towns, recruiting traitors, and bewitching those already wavering Jurchen tribes.

More than twenty days ago, news came from Aihui that the new Chinese in Huanghetun on the other side of the river were mobilizing and gathering troops, and had also recruited hundreds of warriors from surrounding tribes such as Hezhe and Daur, with unclear intentions.

This made the garrison in Ningguta quite nervous, worried that the enemy might once again invade our Qing territory to "raid."

The thought of the new Chinese people made Sharhuda feel a tightness in his chest.

These new Chinese were unlike any enemy they had ever encountered before.

They disregard morality and ethics, act with exceptional ruthlessness and effectiveness, and are frighteningly efficient.

What's even more alarming is that they seem to have an inexhaustible supply of goods, transported by sea, and especially possess those incredibly powerful firearms.

"In the seventh year of Chongde (1642)... that battle was a terrible defeat!" Sharhuda sighed silently in his heart.

That year, taking advantage of the Qing Dynasty's setback in the Battle of Songjin, the Hurha tribe, incited and supported by the new Chinese, launched a rebellion.

He and Zhumala were ordered to lead 600 elite troops of the Eight Banners to conquer the enemy. At first, they were unstoppable, capturing more than ten villages including Erkamu and Zheketeku, and taking more than a thousand people prisoner.

Just as they were feeling triumphant and preparing to wipe out the rebels in one fell swoop, they ran into the well-prepared Xinhua Army on the cold morning of October 20th.

That wasn't a traditional battle between armies; it was a one-sided massacre.

The memory in his mind was still clear: continuous white smoke erupted from the enemy's ranks, and the muffled and dense sound of gunfire came from afar. The Bayara soldiers charging at the front were as if they were hit by an invisible heavy hammer. Their thick armor was as thin as paper and was easily torn apart by the whistling bullets, exploding into dazzling blood flowers, and they fell down in droves.

The bows and arrows that the Eight Banners warriors were so proud of became useless outside the range of the enemy's muskets.

The desperate charge of over a hundred cavalrymen appeared futile and tragic in the face of the enemy's several strong barricades and intersecting barricades of fire.

With over three hundred well-equipped Xinhua soldiers and the assistance of over a thousand Hurha and Solon rebels, his warriors suffered heavy losses, losing over four hundred elite troops. They were driven back to Ningguta and could only hold out in the fortified city while awaiting reinforcements.

That battle not only shattered the morale of the Ningguta garrison, but also destroyed the last shred of respect that the surrounding tribes had for the Qing Dynasty.

These new Chinese were a formidable adversary that the Qing Dynasty had never encountered before.

"The Regent ordered us to guard our territory strictly, saying that it was not advisable to wage war in winter... But spring has come, and where are the reinforcements?" Sharhuda murmured to himself, looking at the muddy distance, his voice filled with helplessness.

Last year (1643), Shengjing's attention was entirely focused on southern Liaoning. Prince Dorgon intended to eliminate the stronghold of the new Chinese in Gaizhou. As for Ningguta, only two hundred Han soldiers from the Eight Banners were added, most of whom were Ujenhachao, and their combat strength was limited.

Today, Ningguta Fort has no more than five hundred soldiers, including all the able-bodied men, including the half-grown "servants".

“My lord, five hundred men…” His deputy, the Jiala Zhangjing Eshuo, had appeared beside him at some point. This Manchu man, known for his bravery, now had his face filled with resentment and anxiety. “If we could go back seven or eight years, with just these five hundred elite troops from the Eight Banners, we would have been able to crush all the unruly Jurchen tribes in the Heishui and Ussuri River basins who refused to submit to the king’s rule, and make them pay tribute every year and come to court every year!”

"But what about now? The Solon tribe has rebelled, the Kurka tribe has rebelled, and the Hurha tribe has rebelled too. These ungrateful wretches are all wagging their tails and licking the boots of the new Chinese!"

Sharhuda nodded bitterly.

He knew the reason perfectly well, but he was powerless to change it.

The new Chinese used snow-white, inexpensive salt, thick, warm cotton cloth, a dazzling array of spices, and a vast quantity of sharp, durable ironware, even standard swords that the Qing Dynasty strictly prohibited from entering the tribes, to easily sway the hearts of those tribes who were already wavering.

Those who gave birth to the Jurchens only needed to offer furs, ginseng, and pearls to exchange for things they never dared to dream of before.

What can our Great Qing Dynasty give them?
Aside from the increasingly heavy tribute and the frequent conscription of men to fill vacancies in the Eight Banners, which felt like blood being ripped out of flesh, there was almost nothing else.

The ebb and flow of power, the shift in public sentiment—it's all crystal clear. "We're sucking their blood, while the new Chinese are providing for them," Sharhuda told Eshuo, his voice heavy. "Starting four years ago, it became increasingly difficult for us to recruit Yi people from the Heishui and Ussuri River areas. Instead, with the support of the new Chinese, they've taken up swords and drawn bows, aiming them at us!"

Should we send a large army to wipe them out?
It's easier said than done!

Shengjing had tried before, but the journey was long, the forests were dense and the waters were deep, and the logistical supply line was long and fragile.

Although the Xinhua stronghold was not large in scale, it was strategically located, sturdyly constructed, and equipped with long-range and accurate artillery on the walls. In addition, the garrison soldiers were each equipped with a sharp musket, making it impossible for anyone to bite into it.

Sending too few troops would not only fail to capture the city, but would also result in the vassal tribes and reinforcements from the nearby Xinhua stronghold arriving on the scene to surround and annihilate the enemy.

With more troops deployed, the amount of food and supplies required would be astronomical. With the Ming army in western and southern Liaoning eyeing the city covetously, Shengjing was simply unable to support a two- or even three-front war.

"They even offered bounties to our Eight Banners men..." E'shuo said through gritted teeth, "The head of a soldier can be exchanged for five bags of grain, or two fine steel knives. Those tribal hunters now look at us like we're walking treasures!"

Just then, the sound of rapid hoofbeats approached from afar, breaking the silence on the city wall.

A scout sent to the northeast, covered in mud and in a sorry state, rushed into the city. He almost fell off his horse, staggered up the city wall, and collapsed in front of Sharhuda.

"Lord Zhang... Lord Zhangjing!" The scout gasped for breath, his face a mixture of fear and exhaustion. "Mai... Mailanhewei (present-day Jixi City)! The Xinhua people... they are on a large scale logging and building fortifications in the old Mailanhewei area!"

"What?" Sharhuda and Eshuo exclaimed simultaneously, their expressions changing drastically.

Sharhuda grabbed the scout's arm with such force that the scout groaned, "Did you see clearly? How many people are there? How high is the stockade wall? Is it a temporary camp or a permanent fortress?"

“I see…I see it clearly!” the scout replied, panting. “There are quite a few people, probably no less than three or five hundred. There are about a hundred Xinhua soldiers in uniform, and the rest are the Hurha tribe and some Jurchen vassals.”

"They felled trees and dug foundations, and have already erected the outline of the stockade walls. Judging from the foundations and the layout, it is definitely not a temporary camp. ... I was close enough to almost hear their shouts and the sounds of hammers and chisels. I dared not linger and rushed back to report the news at the risk of my life!"

Sharhuda let go of her hand, staggered back a step, and leaned against the cold battlements, feeling a chill run from the soles of her feet straight to the top of her head.

Mailanhewei is only about 300 li away from Ningguta!

If one were to ride at full speed, the journey would only take a few days.

What does it mean that the other side is building a city there?
This means that the new Chinese are no longer satisfied with sporadic attacks and infiltrations; they want to establish a solid forward base and push their sphere of influence directly to Ningguta's doorstep!
This is like a sharp knife already pressed against Ningguta's throat. The next step is to cut open the throat, causing my Qing Dynasty's rule in Liaodong to bleed endlessly.

"They're insane... How dare they..." E Shuo was both shocked and furious, his voice trembling slightly.

“What wouldn’t they dare to do?” Sharhuda’s voice was filled with helplessness. “The Ming army in southern Liaoning and the Xinhua army in Gaizhou have tied up a lot of our energy. As for Korea… I’m afraid we can’t count on Korea anymore.”

His mention of North Korea cast a shadow over the two men's hearts.

In February, a dramatic change occurred in Korea. The new Chinese, in alliance with the Ming army in Donggang and the deposed Prince Gwanghae, swept through the country, capturing counties and cities, breaking through Gaegyeong, and besieging Hanyang.

The capital city of Shengjing dispatched Prince Dodo with 20,000 troops to Korea for emergency relief. What was the result?
With the fall of Hanyang, King Injo of Joseon and many of his ministers were captured. Dodo's army was blocked north of the Han River, and faced with the thawing river and the enemy troops waiting in battle, they could only return empty-handed.

"With the loss of Korea, the flank of our Great Qing is wide open. The new Huaren and Dongjiang Town are now connected, allowing us to easily manage the seas and threaten Liaonan, even the mouth of the Liao River, and Shengjing." Sharhuda analyzed, his heart sinking with each sentence. "Now, they are building a city at Mailanhewei. This is an attempt to advance from both the east and the west, completely locking us down and cutting off the foundation and retreat of our Great Qing!"

He seemed to see the Ming army and Xinhua forces on the eastern and western fronts like two giant iron pincers, slowly closing in, with Ningguta, and even the entire Shengjing, at the center of these pincers.

The Jurchen tribes in the north defected one after another, the Ming army in the south regrouped, Korea in the east changed hands and became the enemy's stronghold, and the Mongol tribes in the west also had an ambiguous attitude...

Emperor Taizong (Huang Taiji) had devoted more than ten years of his life to conquering Korea, annexing Mongolia, and suppressing the Ming Dynasty. The great situation he had painstakingly created collapsed in just two or three years!

"My lord, what should we do?" E'shuo asked anxiously. "Should we immediately request reinforcements from Shengjing? Or should we gather all available troops and take advantage of their weakened fortifications to eliminate this major threat!"

Looking at the muddy road outside the city, Sharhuda shook his head and gave a bitter smile: "Asking for help? Shengjing probably can't take care of us. We have to defend Liaonan, keep an eye on Jinzhou, clean up the mess left by the defeat in Korea, and appease the Mongols... Even if the Regent knows that this place is in danger, he is probably powerless to help."

He paused, then pointed to the muddy road outside the city: "Moreover, such roads are difficult for men and horses to walk on, so how can a large army advance? How can supplies be transported? Our five hundred men can barely defend the city and protect ourselves, let alone launch an attack. What will we use to break through the camp guarded by those hundred-plus Xinhua soldiers?"

Eshuo opened his mouth, but in the end he didn't say anything. He just punched the city wall hard, leaving a blurry mud mark.

Sharhuda took a deep breath of the cold air, forcing himself to calm down.

He turned to the scout and Goshha, and ordered in a deep voice: "Scout again! Send more scouts. I need to know the detailed progress of their city construction, their troop deployment, and their logistical supply routes!"

"Keep a close watch on every ferry crossing on the Hailang River and the Huligai River (now Mudanjiang), and closely monitor all the paths leading to Ningguta! If there is any unusual activity by any new Chinese or vassal tribes, even if it is only three or five people, report it immediately by horseback!"

"Yes, sir!" Goshha and the scouts obeyed and left.

On the city wall, only Sharhuda and Eshuo remained.

The sun shone brightly, and the river flowed swiftly, but in the vibrant springtime of Ningguta, the two Qing generals felt a strange chill in their hearts.

The infiltration and threat posed by the new Chinese in the rear of our Great Qing Dynasty is no longer a minor ailment, but has evolved into a potentially fatal threat to our very core.

Their tentacles are reaching out with unprecedented speed and force, pressing closer and closer, trying to drag our Great Qing, this "land of origin," into an irreversible abyss.
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(End of this chapter)