Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 607 Hinges (Part 5)

In July, after noon in southern Liaoning, the sun becomes scorching, baking the vast land.

However, the humidity spreading from the Bohai Bay to the land was able to barely suppress the sweltering heat in the fields, bringing a little coolness.

On a boundless, verdant meadow, a group of figures suddenly appeared, fleeing in panic.

This was a group of about twenty or thirty Han slaves who had escaped from the Qing-controlled territory in the north. They included men, women, and children, and all of them were dressed in rags, with sallow and emaciated faces. Their exposed skin was covered with crisscrossing whip marks and thick layers of mud.

They ran with all their might, their chests like broken bellows, emitting hoarse and painful gasps.

Extreme fear and bewilderment mingled in everyone's eyes, but as they looked into the distance, a glimmer of hope continued to rise.

A few hundred steps ahead, the outline of the gray-black fortress was faintly visible in the sweltering heat.

"Quick...run! We can see the fort!...It's not far ahead!" A middle-aged man who seemed to be the leader shouted hoarsely as he turned around.

His lips were cracked and bleeding, and he was breathing heavily.

The sound of horses' hooves grew louder and louder behind them, deep and powerful, like the death knell of the King of Hell, each hoofbeat striking the hearts of the runaway slaves.

Dozens of Manchu bannermen appeared behind them, wearing helmets with tassels and armor of varying weights. Their sharp swords gleamed coldly in the sunlight.

Arrows occasionally whizzed past the heads or sides of the runaway slaves, embedding themselves deeply in the grass, their fletchings trembling slightly.

A woman who was at the back of the group was shot in the calf with an arrow. She screamed and fell to the ground, only to be swallowed up by the surging hooves of the horses and fall silent.

Despair, like icy water, instantly seeped into the heart of every fugitive.

They were still several hundred paces away from Yaozhou Fort when the Eight Banners soldiers behind them were already brandishing their scimitars.
-
Yaozhou Fort, a fortress that was restored and rebuilt last April by the joint efforts of the Xinhua people and the Ming army of Liaonan Town, quietly guards the road leading to Gaizhou in the south.

Although the size of this fortress has shrunk compared to its heyday, it is now more solid, more robust, and its defense system is more complete.

The castle has sharp angles, with several prominent triangular bastions that resemble the horns of a giant beast, controlling every inch of land in front of the castle. On the bastions and the city walls, several protruding bastions are cleverly constructed, allowing the firepower from the city walls to cover every inch of land at the foot of the city walls, with almost no blind spots.

On the city wall, seven or eight cannons of varying sizes had their covers removed, their dark muzzles pointing into the distance.

Behind the battlements, Ming soldiers wearing mandarin duck jackets and Xinhua Army (militia) in dark blue uniforms could be vaguely seen patrolling back and forth.

This fortress, like a hard wedge, was firmly driven into the heart of southern Liaoning, where the Qing army could originally move freely. It served as a reliable barrier and outpost for Gaizhou Fort in the rear, and also as a forward base for Xinhua and the Ming army to gradually squeeze the strategic space of the Qing invaders to the north.

In response to this growing threat, the Qing forces had no choice but to station nearly a thousand Manchu soldiers in Haizhou (present-day Haicheng), dozens of miles away, to maintain vigilance day and night.

Of course, the Qing army did try to remove this thorn in their side.

But each time he went south, he was met with a resounding defeat, leaving behind only corpses and never even reaching the base of the city walls.

The cannons on the city walls and the flintlock muskets in the hands of the defenders, which far surpassed the standard firearms of the Ming army, became a nightmare for all the Qing soldiers who participated in the attack.

The firepower was so dense, like a sudden storm. No matter how many layers of heavy armor you wore, under the bombardment of the enemy's cannons and guns, you would instantly be riddled with holes, as fragile as paper, offering almost no protection.

Even though the Qing army used the heavy shield-and-oar formations they had used to attack Ming cities and advanced slowly, the precise and fierce artillery fire of the Xinhua army often blasted them to pieces, shield and all.

Do you want a long-term siege?

However, the enemy's fortress had ample reserves, with mountains of food, ammunition, and medicine, enough to sustain the garrison for more than six months.

In the end, the Qing army was often the one that couldn't sustain the war and had no choice but to retreat in frustration, leaving the fortified fortress standing right under their noses.

At this moment, the fortress suddenly became noisy.

"Northeast, approximately... 530 meters away, Jianzhou cavalry are pursuing and killing fleeing Han slaves!" A lookout on the northern bastion of Yaozhou Fort shouted a warning.

On the northern bastion of Yaozhou Fort, the gunner quickly calculated the distance and bearing, and shouted the order: "Load solid shot! Elevation three degrees, target—twenty paces ahead of the Jurchen cavalry!"

The gunners moved swiftly, stuffing in the propellant charges and then cramming a heavy solid iron ball into the breech.

With a loud bang, scorching flames spewed from the cannon muzzle, and an iron ball whistled as it crashed into the front of the Qing army's cavalry, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The pursuing Qing cavalry were immediately thrown into a panic, halting their advance and stopping in place, staring in horror at Yaozhou Fort.

"Continue firing, lower the elevation by half a degree, target the Jurchen cavalry!"

"put!"

Another shell whistled out, this time landing even closer, smashing directly into the Qing army ranks.

The cannonball, carrying immense kinetic energy, pierced the belly of a warhorse, and with its momentum undiminished, tore a flag bearer in two at the waist behind it.

Flesh, blood, and entrails were splattered like a torrential rain on the withered grass, and a strong stench of blood instantly filled the air.

This hellish scene terrified the Qing cavalry following closely behind. They instinctively spurred their horses and scattered in all directions, throwing their pursuit into chaos. The leader, Bashiku, shouted incessantly, and the Qing cavalry turned their horses around, dragging the corpses of their fallen comrades, and fled north in panic.

Upon seeing this, the Ming soldiers from Liaonan Garrison on the city wall burst into cheers.

A Ming soldier excitedly patted the crenellations of the city wall: "Damn, that was awesome! Let's see if these Jurchens still dare to be arrogant!"

The old soldier beside him clicked his tongue and shook his head, saying, "It was exciting, but these Xinhua people are really extravagant, firing two shells at once. Each shell costs about two or three taels of silver, so two shells cost five or six taels of silver. Tell me, rescuing these twenty-odd runaway slaves, they probably won't even recoup their costs. It's really not worth it!"

Another Ming army officer laughed upon hearing this, saying, "Old Cai, you're all money-grubbing! You should know that these runaway slaves have come to our Yaozhou Fort. The men can serve as auxiliary soldiers, and the women can do odd jobs. They can all be put to good use."

"Besides, if the Jurchens lose one less slave laborer, we gain one more man. This trade-off is far more valuable than money can measure."

At that moment, the fortress gates slowly opened, and the surviving escaped slaves stumbled in, supporting each other.

As soon as they entered the fortress, they collapsed to the ground. Some burst into tears, while others kowtowed repeatedly, thanking the garrison for saving their lives.

On the bastion, the Xinhua Army artillery commander coldly watched the departing Qing cavalry, ordered the gunners to lift the alert, and carried out routine maintenance on the cannons that had just been fired.

He dusted off his hands and glanced at the Ming army captain: "In Xinhua, we never measure human life by money. If we save these people today, some of them may become farmers tilling the fields, craftsmen working in the fields, or soldiers fighting in the future."

"Even if we cannot, it is worthwhile to save my Han compatriots from the Tartars."

Upon hearing this, the old Ming soldier standing nearby froze on the spot.

After a long pause, he turned to look at the still-terrified escaped slaves, a hint of disdain on his face.

In my Great Ming Dynasty, three-legged toads are hard to find, but two-legged people are as plentiful as you can get your hands on.

Human life isn't really that valuable!
-
The retreating Qing cavalry headed north, their hooves thundering in disarray, a far cry from their earlier ferocity.

The group only slowed down slightly after the gray-black outline of Yaozhou Fort completely disappeared on the horizon.

A young soldier in armor spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, glanced back resentfully, and cursed, "Damn it! We were so close to wiping out those damned Nikan (Han Chinese)! ...But the cannons in that fortress seemed to have eyes!"

Beside him, an old soldier with burn scars on his face touched his charred sideburns with lingering fear and said in a hoarse voice, "Save your breath, Bayar! We're lucky to be alive. Didn't you see Gartu and his precious horse... just shattered? The artillery of the Xinhua is really weird!"

“It’s not just the cannons that are strange.” The leader, Bashiku Eshuo, spoke with a stern face. His gaze swept over his tired and dejected subordinates, finally landing on the direction of Yaozhou Fort, which was faintly visible behind them. “Don’t you guys feel that these forts built by the Xinhua people and the southern barbarians seem to be somewhat different from the Ming army forts we’ve attacked before?”

"What's different?" Everyone looked at each other in astonishment.

"I can't quite put my finger on it." E Shuo frowned, a bitter smile appearing on his lips. "It just makes me feel uneasy all over, like I've stepped into waist-deep mud, and I can't use my strength."

“You’re right, sir!” a man in a vest chimed in. “That fortress is so rugged, our arrows have nowhere to hit. If we try to get close by climbing the walls, we’re surrounded by gun emplacements and cannons. If we try to besiege it, they have far more provisions than we do. And if we try to launch a direct assault…”

He paused, licking his chapped lips. "That's suicide!"

The group fell silent, with only the sound of horses' hooves pounding the wild grass.

A burly man in a vest suddenly spoke, his tone tinged with barely perceptible bewilderment: "This year it's Yaozhou Fortress, will they build another one further north next year? And the year after, will they dare to build the fortress right up to Haizhou City? At this rate, one fortress a year, advancing step by step, like a lasso tightening round and round... In just a few years, won't they be building it right up to the walls of Liaoyang City?"

These words immediately sent a chill down everyone's spine.

Liaoyang, that is the gateway to our Great Qing in southern Liaoning, the very foundation of our nation!

If the enemy were to use this "fortress advance" tactic to force us to our doorstep, wouldn't Shengjing also be in danger in the end?

"It's not just the Liaonan region that's suffering!" sighed the scarred old soldier. "Ever since the Battle of Songjin three years ago, when we didn't gain much advantage over the Ming dogs, the situation for our Great Qing has become increasingly tense. In that battle, our Eight Banners lost nearly ten thousand elite soldiers, and almost every family was in mourning!"

"Oh, and also, even Prince Ying (Ajige) died in battle. Many of those bondservant aha also lost their lives. There is a shortage of people to cultivate the land. There are hardly any strong Nikan people left in Shenyang, Liaoyang, and Fushun. There is famine all year round."

“Yes!” Bashiku interjected, his voice filled with exhaustion. “We thought that once we broke through the pass again, entered the capital region, and seized enough grain and cloth, we could catch our breath. But the things we brought back, though they looked plentiful, were quickly distributed among the various banners, leaving very little. We haven’t had a few days of peace, and it looks like we’re running out of supplies again.”

"In the Heilongjiang River basin to the north, those wild Jurchens have been armed by the new Chinese and are constantly harassing us like mad dogs. We sent troops to suppress them, but that place is densely forested and snow-covered, so our cavalry could not maneuver properly and instead lost a lot of men."

"It's the same across the Tumen River to the east," another soldier complained. "That scoundrel Kong Youde, relying on the support of the Xinhua people and their superior firearms, is driving those savages to fight us in a messy war. We can't hurt him properly when we fight, and we can't get rid of him cleanly when we retreat. It's like being cut with a dull knife—it's the most unbearable thing!"

"The Ming troops in the Guan-Ning garrisons in western Liaoning are all hiding in their turtle shells, refusing to come out no matter what. The cities of Jinzhou, Songshan, and Ningyuan are even harder than turtle shells! Every time we attack them, they knock out a few of our teeth."

Bashiku sighed, "After going through all this, the only ones we can travel to and from smoothly and replenish our supplies with are the Mongols in the west. But the Mongol tribes themselves are dirt poor, how much can they give us? Those Shanxi merchants dare to secretly transport some goods, but the journey is long and it's just a drop in the ocean!"

He gazed at the vast plains ahead, his expression desolate: "Back when I was following Emperor Taizong (Huang Taiji), although it was tough, we were able to fight our way out and continuously draw strength from the Ming Dynasty and Korea to grow stronger. Life was much easier than it is now."

"And now? Korea is completely cut off, and within the Ming Dynasty... I've heard the bandits are causing even more trouble than we are, and there's probably not much left to gain in the entire north. We're like being locked in a cage that's getting smaller and smaller, our hands and feet are tied, we're surrounded by enemies on all sides, endless battles, and inexhaustible resources... This is damn worse than when the old Khan (Nurhaci) first started his rebellion!"

These words expressed what everyone felt.

The procession fell silent again, with only the monotonous sound of horses' hooves echoing across the vast expanse of southern Liaoning.

The setting sun cast long shadows of them, but it could no longer reflect the once mighty and invincible Eight Banners cavalry, instead conveying a sense of heaviness and sorrow at the end of their lives.
-
(End of this chapter)