Huangming

Chapter 245 Ready to Go, Wenlong Offers Advice

The bugle calls of the Later Jin army temporarily ceased, but the Ming army inside Shenyang had no time to catch their breath.

On the city wall, mottled arrow marks are densely packed like sores, and blackish-red bloodstains seep into the gaps between the bricks and stones.

Bodies piled up beneath the city walls, severed limbs and broken armor mixed in with the scorched earth, attracting swarms of greenbottle flies that buzzed and hovered around.

Smelly.

The stench was almost tangible, carrying with it the stench of blood and gunpowder, seeping into the city through every crack in the walls.

The defenders had to cover their mouths and noses with damp cloths, otherwise their breathing alone would be enough to make them nauseous.

"Take inventory of the city's defensive equipment!"

The centurion in charge of supplies gave the order in a hoarse voice, as if his voice had been scorched by fire.

The breech-loading cannons have used up most of their magazines, and the gunpowder has become damp and clumped together, requiring urgent drying.

With their arrow tower inventory depleted, the defending troops had to dismantle the roof beams and hastily make wooden arrows.

The logs and stones piled up on the city wall have long been exhausted, and now even tombstones and millstones have been requisitioned.

"If this continues, the defensive equipment won't last much longer."

Xiong Tingbi saw this and was very anxious.

So he ordered his men to risk their lives to retrieve arrows, swords, and logs from the battlefield.

"Put away armor! Conceal arrows!"

During a lull in the siege, a squad of auxiliary soldiers descended by rope and rummaged through the piles of corpses to retrieve usable armor and weapons.

Swords with chipped edges were melted down and reforged; those that were intact were cleaned of blood and rust and distributed to new recruits.

The arrows were pulled from the corpse, the arrowheads were re-tied up intact, and the blood-stained ones were boiled in boiling water.

Armor made of loose iron plates was reinforced with leather ropes; severely damaged armor was melted down and recast into caltrops for city defense.

"Hurry! We must retreat before dark!"

The captain leading the team would occasionally look up, vigilantly glancing towards the distant Later Jin camp.

Another thing to deal with during the lulls in the defense of the city was the corpses.

During the day, the corpses below the city walls had already begun to rot, flies buzzed, and the stench was overwhelming.

If left unchecked, the epidemic will sweep across the entire city in less than half a month.

By then, there will be no need for the Jurchens to breach the city; half of the defending army will fall on their own.

"Send the order!"

Xiong Tingbi's voice was hoarse, but his authority was undeniable.

"Do not lower the ropes down the city wall at night. Collect the remains of our soldiers and bury them in a deep pit a hundred paces away, then cover them with three layers of lime!"

The night was as dark as ink, and dozens of elite "night scouts" quietly descended the city walls using rope ladders.

With their faces covered by damp cloths, short knives at their waists, and iron shovels in their hands, they carefully searched through the pile of corpses for the remains of Ming soldiers.

First, identify the body by its armor style, hairstyle, and name tag on the waist tag, then order the Ming soldiers who followed to carry the body.

When moving them, lift them gently and try to piece together any severed limbs or remains as intact as possible.

Finally, a pit more than ten feet deep was dug a hundred paces away, a layer of quicklime was laid, then a layer of soil was covered, and finally a stele was carved with blue bricks, inscribed with "Tomb of Loyal Martyrs of the Ming Dynasty".

"Brother, let's go."

The team leader muttered to himself as he compacted the last handful of soil.

As for the corpses of the Later Jin soldiers?

"Drag them with iron hooks and pile them up beneath the city walls!"

The defenders used long poles with iron hooks to drag the hideous corpses to the base of the city wall, poured hot oil on them, and set them on fire.

Flames shot skyward, and the stench of burning grease mixed with the crackling sound was nauseating.

"not enough."

Xiong Tingbi watched coldly.

"Mix ashes with excrement and splash them on the city walls!"

This is the most primitive form of biological warfare.

The ashes from the burning bones, mixed with excrement, clung to the city bricks, and the stench lingered for a long time.

If the Later Jin army were to attack the city again, they would not only have to face arrows and rolling logs, but also endure the suffocating stench of decay.

Some young soldiers couldn't help but gag, but Xiong Tingbi simply patted them on the shoulder.

"nausea?"

"On the day the Jurchens breach the city, they will use our heads to build a mound of skulls and turn our wives and daughters into camp prostitutes—compared to that, what is a little excrement?"

As long as he can hold onto Shenyang, he will use any means necessary, no matter how dirty or vicious.

Because this is war.

The winner takes all, the loser is condemned!

Meanwhile, Xiong Tingbi intensified efforts to repair the fortifications and city walls outside the city.

He strode across the city wall, his gaze sharp as a knife, sweeping over every broken crenellation and every cannon shrouded in gunpowder smoke.

"Clean up the powder chambers of all the breech-loading cannons! If gunpowder residue clogs the breech, the consequences will be unimaginable!"

He grabbed the gunner by the collar and roared, "If the gun breech explodes when the Jurchens attack the city, I'll shove you in there and use you as a cannonball!"

"Your subordinate will immediately conduct a thorough inspection and cleanup!"

The gunner's face turned ashen, and he scrambled to retrieve the cleaning tools.

After inspecting all the artillery pieces.

Xiong Tingbi turned and walked toward the musket team, where the arquebusiers were busy cleaning their weapons.

Xiong Tingbi was also skilled with firearms. He picked up a gun and squinted at the sunlight to inspect the barrel.

"Dip the cleaning rod in vinegar! Rub the inside and outside three times!"

He shouted sternly, "If I find a single rusty gun, you can forget about having these hands!"

The gunmen shuddered and hurriedly poured out the vinegar jugs, frantically cleaning themselves.

One of the problems with the Ming army was the neglect of its weapons and equipment.

These are all areas that Xiong Tingbi wants to focus on.

After inspecting the muskets, Xiong Tingbi glanced at the spearmen.

The new recruits were frantically organizing their weapons.

Xiong Tingbi strode over and kicked over a spear stand that hadn't been soaked in oil.

"Tung oil! Soak it thoroughly!"

He grabbed a spear shaft and pointed to the cracks on it.

"If it breaks on the battlefield, are you prepared to fight the Jurchens' swords with your bare hands?" Upon seeing this, the swordsmen, without being told, immediately took out jars of mutton fat and frantically smeared it on their blades—afraid that if they were a step too slow, they would be targeted by this devilish strategist.

Finally, Xiong Tingbi stood atop the city wall, overlooking the moat.

The river was already stained red with blood, with broken arrows and shattered armor floating on it.

"Somebody come!"

He beckoned to his personal guards.

"Go throw all those dead horses and rotten dogs in there, and add three buckets of hemlock juice!"

He sneered and said, "Let the Jurchens taste what it's like to have rotten flesh soaked in poison!"

During battle, if Jurchen soldiers had wounds, this poisonous water could cause their wounds to fester.

Any method that works on the battlefield, regardless of its effectiveness, should be used.

The guards looked at each other in bewilderment, but still quickly carried out the order.

Soon, a strange layer of foam appeared on the moat, which would surely cause the Jurchens a headache if they attacked the city again.

From day to night, and then from night to day.

Xiong Tingbi traveled to almost every corner of the vast city of Shenyang.

This also allowed all the soldiers to see his upright figure.

"These earth-listening jars must be placed on all four city walls!"

Xiong Tingbi was bending down to inspect the newly buried earth-listening jar at the base of the city wall. It was an overturned earthenware jar with its mouth covered by cowhide. As long as you put your ear to it, you could hear the sounds from several feet underground.

"We have three shifts every day to monitor the area, especially around midnight, as the Jurchens love to dig tunnels at night! If we let out even the slightest sound, you'll be beheaded!"

The garrison soldiers fell silent, agreeing repeatedly.

Just as he was reprimanding her, the armor plates behind him clanged loudly.

Xiong Tingbi frowned and slowly straightened up.

Before them stood a seven-foot-tall, dark-faced general kneeling on one knee, his armor gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

This man had a high, prominent forehead, sharp, tiger-like eyes, and fresh bloodstains on the scabbard of his goose-feather sword hanging at his waist.

"Mao Wenlong, the guerrilla commander of Liaoyang, pays his respects to the Grand Marshal!"

Xiong Tingbi squinted.

Is it Mao Wenlong, the guerrilla commander from Liaoyang?

Liaoyang and Shenyang formed a strategic triangle, serving as the first iron gate to block the westward advance of the Jurchens.

Mao Wenlong was not monitoring Hetu Ala's movements in his defense zone; he had actually abandoned his post.
"Why are you in Shenyang instead of keeping an eye on the Jurchens in Liaoyang?! If the Jurchen chieftain takes this opportunity to break through Fengji Fortress, I'll skin you alive!"

The soldiers on the city wall shrank back in fear.

Who doesn't know that Commander Xiong hated those who left their posts without permission?
Last year, a captain was caught returning to the city to visit his family without permission and was whipped fifty times on the spot. He still has centipede-like scars on his back.

Mao Wenlong raised his head and clasped his hands in greeting: "Reporting to the Commander, it is Minister Sun who has been dispatched here!"

As he spoke, he took out a document from the Ministry of War from his pocket; the sealing wax was intact and as good as new.

If a transfer order is issued, that's a different story.

Xiong Tingbi glanced at this brave general he valued and asked, "What brings you to see me?"

Mao Wenlong was a newly promoted guerrilla commander. On October 7th of the 48th year of the Wanli reign, Mao Wenlong defeated enemy troops at Xingshan Village and reported his merit by beheading three enemy soldiers, one of whom he personally beheaded. His victory was approved by the Ministry of War.

Xiong Tingbi petitioned the emperor for this merit, requesting that Mao Wenlong be promoted one rank and actually appointed as a commander.

Unexpectedly, the emperor not only approved it, but also promoted Mao Wenlong by one rank, making him a guerrilla commander.

This unexpected promotion gave Mao Wenlong a feeling of relief, like rain after a long drought.

Upon receiving the promotion order issued by the Ministry of War, 44-year-old Mao Wenlong immediately burst into tears of excitement.

It should be noted that he was already the garrison commander of Liaoyang in the 36th year of the Wanli reign, and he had not been promoted since then.

It's almost as if it's welded to this defensive position.

Now that he's been promoted, he's full of energy and eager to make even greater contributions!
"Reporting to the General, I have come to report on the situation in Liaoyang and southern Liaoning."

Xiong Tingbi was taken aback.

The situation in Liaoyang and southern Liaoning is a secret; how could it be revealed in such a crowded and noisy place?

He immediately waved his hand and said, "This is not the place to talk. Come with me to the secret room."

"As ordered!"

The two quickly arrived at the secret room.

The room was dimly lit by candlelight. Xiong Tingbi sat upright at his desk, his fingers lightly tapping the surface, his gaze sharp as he scrutinized Mao Wenlong.

"Go ahead."

His voice was deep.

"What's the situation in Liaoyang and southern Liaoning?"

Mao Wenlong took a deep breath, clasped his hands in a fist and said:

"Reporting to the General, my subordinates have deployed scouts extensively along the line from Liaoyang to southern Liaoyang, searching day and night, but have not found a single Jurchen soldier!"

Xiong Tingbi frowned, and his fingers suddenly stopped.

"Not a single one? That's strange."

Mao Wenlong took out a roll of sheepskin map from his pocket and spread it out on the table:

"Thirty miles outside Liaoyang City, there should have been Jurchen cavalry patrolling, but now there is not a single person; in the fortresses and villages of southern Liao, even the scouts that used to be common have disappeared without a trace."

He pointed his finger heavily at Shenyang and said, "Nurhaci has mobilized all his forces and staked everything on Shenyang!"

The flickering candlelight cast an unpredictable shadow on Xiong Tingbi's face.

"What brings you to see me, General?"

Upon hearing this, Mao Wenlong immediately knelt on one knee, his armor clanging loudly.

"My lord! Hetu Ala must be completely vulnerable right now!"

His eyes burned with a fighting spirit like wildfire.

"If you give me three thousand elite cavalry, I am willing to detour through Kuandian and strike straight at Huanglong! Even if we cannot break through the city, we can force Nurhaci to return to reinforce it!"

Xiong Tingbi suddenly stood up, the chair scraping against the floor with a screeching sound.

This suggestion is too risky.

But if successful, it will change the course of the Battle of Shenyang!
But if we fail, we'll lose three thousand elite cavalry!
Should we take this risk?

Or rather, what are the chances of a successful surprise attack on Hetu Ala?

PS:

On the fourth day, we went out to collect folk songs.
(End of this chapter)