Chapter 648 - Defeat and Flight
LĂĽ Yizhong flew into a rage. This arrogant scholar is merely a xiucai, he thought, thrusting an accusing finger at Qian Taichong. "You insolent fool! One more word of this nonsense and I'll have you charged with undermining morale!"
"Hmph, does morale still need undermining by me?" Qian Taichong refused to back down and was about to retort when someone came looking for them.
"Sirs, please proceed immediately to the main camp for a conference!"
As they left through the city gate, Qian Taichong noticed that the guards had been entirely replaced with men from the General's standard battalion, all armed with drawn weapons in strict formation.
The party's horses thundered through the gate tunnel. The guards did not close the gate behind them, leaving it open to facilitate the movement of troops and personnel.
Inside the central camp, although He Rubin's personal retainers and standard battalion still maintained relative stability, the rocket barrage had reduced morale to its nadir. Many whispered among themselves, certain that retreat was imminent.
Within the command tent, the commanders of each camp had already assembled. They now possessed a deep appreciation for the terrifying power of the bald bandits' firearms. Encamping here offered no sense of security—no matter how high the walls or deep the trenches, they were useless when the bald bandits' rockets could be fired from more than ten li away, hundreds at a time. There was simply no way to continue this fight.
With the officers devoid of fighting spirit and even the commander himself believing the war was unwinnable, He Rubin understood that holding position at Chengmai against the bald bandits had become meaningless. Morale had collapsed, and the supply line could not be quickly restored. Better to withdraw to Qiongshan while his forces remained intact—at least that would leave room for explanation to his superiors. However, he lacked the authority to make such a decision unilaterally. He turned his gaze to Zhao Ruyi.
Zhao Ruyi had long wanted to retreat. This expedition was clearly doomed, and the fire attack had nearly frightened his soul from his body. He had never before experienced such an indiscriminate bombardment of both front and rear positions. One of his servants had been struck directly by a rocket and killed on the spot. He wished desperately to escape this death trap. Seeing that all the generals favored withdrawal, he agreed without hesitation.
The discussion turned to the order of march and the signals and methods for coordination. He Rubin knew that after this retreat, he would have difficulty explaining himself to the Governor-General and the court. His expression darkened, and he let the others debate while remaining silent. Zhao Ruyi noticed his ashen demeanor and feared the general might lose his mind or attempt suicide in a moment of despair—if the commander died, these twenty thousand men would immediately scatter. He addressed the generals loudly:
"Our army has won many victories in this campaign! The minor setback at Shishan is nothing. We shall return to Qiongshan to resupply and reassess the situation!"
He continued with many encouraging words, finally lifting the mood in the tent somewhat. The time for withdrawal was set for the following morning, to avoid the confusion and disorientation that a nighttime breakout might cause.
Chen Renjie, with the Qiongya Regional Commander's own troops along with the local garrison forces and militia, would lead the vanguard and clear the road. Of the five Regional Commanders, Tang Yunwen's forces were the most intact, and his men were largely local—familiar with the terrain. The garrison soldiers and militiamen had their homes and camps mostly around Qiongshan and Wenchang. Though their enthusiasm for attacking Lingao was low, their will to fight their way home should still be strong.
The remaining units would follow closely behind, fighting as they retreated. The rearguard would be led by Sun Changzuo, the Central Camp's Guard Commander, positioned behind the General's standard battalion. He Rubin assigned him two thousand men, including one hundred of his own mounted retainers and Song Ming's one hundred cavalry. Sun Changzuo understood that these two hundred horsemen were meant to save his life. He expressed great gratitude, vowing to fight to the death to cover the retreat.
The rearguard also included Li Modao's firearms battalion. Now that it had lost its cannons, most considered the unit useless, so Li Modao would simply hold the camp positions with his battalion and be the last to withdraw. He Rubin's instructions were clear: if the road was cut off and retreat became impossible, Li Modao should fall back into Chengmai County town to assist in its defense.
After the generals departed, He Rubin advised Zhao Ruyi: "Please rest in my camp, sir. At dawn, you may withdraw with the main column."
But Zhao Ruyi replied: "I still have some baggage left in the city that hasn't been collected..."
"I shall send men to handle it at once."
"No, no," Zhao Ruyi quickly demurred. "There are many manuscripts and books among my things. If I don't go personally, the servants won't know what to keep and what to discard."
"Very well. Please go and return swiftly."
Zhao Ruyi rode with his servants at speed back to the Song residence in the city. The secretaries followed suit. As soon as they arrived, the Song residence and the various households where the secretaries had been staying descended into chaos. Zhao Ruyi had come on this campaign fully prepared to line his pockets, expecting to acquire many of the bald bandits' exotic treasures once they reached Lingao. He had brought numerous empty chests and many servants. Although the defeat had come too quickly to satisfy his greed, he had still accumulated gifts from the officers along the route, tributes from the gentry, and—once in Chengmai—presents from the county magistrate and local notables. Song Zonghui, seeking his protection, had given him fifty taels of silver and a calligraphy scroll by a famous painter of the current dynasty.
Upon returning to the Song residence, he immediately ordered his servants to pack all the valuables into chests and dispatched men to requisition laborers and carts, preparing to flee.
Though the secretaries were not officials, they too had received gifts of varying sizes along the way, which also needed to be boxed and brought along. Unlike Zhao Ruyi, who had seventy or eighty servants, the grandest among them—such as Lü Yizhong—had only thirty or forty attendants. Ordinary secretaries like the impoverished xiucai Qian Taichong had only a single boy servant. Thus, some packed only valuables and small items, while others insisted on taking even a few bolts of locally produced cotton cloth. The scene became utterly chaotic, with voices raised on all sides. The servants of the various households took advantage of the packing to loot freely from the guest quarters of the Song residence, carrying off table ornaments, wall hangings, and even bed curtains. The Song family servants cried out: "We've been robbed by government bandits!" Song Zonghui, seeing the pandemonium, hurriedly ordered the women and children to the inner quarters while the able-bodied men of the household armed themselves with clubs and weapons, ready to resist any looting by unruly soldiers. He himself rushed to find Chang Qingyun.
Chang Qingyun was directing several servants in tying up and moving his luggage, shouting instructions while berating them for their slowness. When a servant accidentally loosened a bundle and spilled several bolts of fine jibei cotton cloth across the floor, Chang Qingyun erupted in a fresh tirade.
"Why the sudden packing? What's going on?" Song Zonghui was alarmed. He had already guessed that the imperial army was preparing to flee, but he still clung to a faint hope that this was merely a camp relocation.
Chang Qingyun, grateful for his host's attentive hospitality over the past days, lowered his voice: "I'll speak frankly. The army is short of provisions, and after being burned out by the bald bandits' rockets, morale has collapsed. Our forces are withdrawing to Qiongshan."
The news struck like a thunderbolt. Song Zonghui nearly fainted. If the imperial army fled, what would become of the county?
"If we're retreating to Qiongshan, when will you return to Chengmai?"
"That's a matter of military strategy—how would I know?" Chang Qingyun replied. "In my estimation, no sooner than three months, no later than six."
"But... but..." Song Zonghui panicked. Once the imperial troops left, the bald bandit army would be at the gates. The city's fall would be a matter of days. "How many soldiers will be left to defend the city?"
Chang Qingyun grew impatient: "Military matters—I don't know that either."
Song Zonghui stood rooted to the spot until a secretary came running to ask him to help requisition a few wheelbarrows and laborers to carry his luggage. Only then did he snap back to reality, absently agreeing before hurrying off toward the county yamen.
Magistrate Liu Jingxuan was pacing the yamen like a headless fly. The rocket attack had terrified him, and he feared the bald bandits would exploit the chaos to assault the city. He had been directing the militia and conscripts in firefighting while personally inspecting the walls. Seeing the multiple fires blazing in the camps outside and the clamor of panicked soldiers, his heart had sunk. Only when the fires were finally extinguished and the bald bandits made no attempt to storm the walls did he descend and return to the yamen for a late-night meal.
He had barely taken a mouthful of rice noodles when word came that camps both inside and outside the city were in an uproar, though no one knew why. Liu Jingxuan hastily set down his bowl and called for a hot towel—he was about to wipe his face and go investigate. The servant had just brought the towel when Song Zonghui arrived in a rush.
Without pausing for courtesies, Song Zonghui immediately delivered the news: the imperial army was preparing to withdraw to Qiongshan in full strength at dawn.
"Is this true?!" Liu Jingxuan nearly leaped to his feet, rice noodles still clinging to the corner of his mouth. "The army is leaving?"
"It's true!" Song Zonghui related how the secretaries and officers in the city were packing their belongings, and repeated what Chang Qingyun had told him. He sighed. "What Master Chang says cannot be false."
"What are we to do?" Liu Jingxuan's face went white. "Once the army leaves, the bald bandits will certainly besiege the city. With their firearms being so formidable..." He could not continue. Though they had held Chengmai for dozens of days before, that was only because the bald bandits had chosen to encircle rather than assault. It was not that the city could not be taken.
"I see no choice but for all the gentry of the city to cling to the carriages and plead for them to stay..."
Liu Jingxuan knew this was no solution at all. With the supply line cut, the army demoralized by fire attack, and morale shattered, what reason did General He have to remain in this death trap with the local people? Losing a county town was indeed a crime, but hardly a capital offense. Why should he risk his life and those of tens of thousands for a small county?
At this thought, Liu Jingxuan wept: "I fear that plan will be useless. Alas for the gentry and common folk of this city!" He sighed and lamented, vowing that if the city fell, he would surely take his own life to fulfill his duty as a loyal subject.
"I think Your Honor should go immediately to General He's camp and explain the consequences, persuading him to leave a force to help defend the city," his colleagues at the yamen suggested.
"Most of the city's provisions have already been requisitioned by the army. Even if soldiers remain, without food, the city cannot be held," Liu Jingxuan sighed.
Song Zonghui's thoughts were elsewhere. He was worried that when the imperial army fled, they would inevitably loot the city before departing. Though He Rubin commanded provincial troops, there was no guarantee he could restrain his men. On reflection, perhaps it would be better without the soldiers—since twenty thousand troops could not withstand the bald bandits and were preparing to flee, what use would five hundred or a thousand be? If the bald bandits wanted to take the city, it would fall within a day regardless.
The officials were bound by duty to defend their posts, obligated to resist to the death. But gentry and commoners like himself had no need to fight to the bitter end alongside them. Already the thought of surrender, should the bald bandits attack, was forming in his mind. He murmured agreement but said nothing more.
As they deliberated, a courier arrived at a gallop with orders: the entire county must prepare twenty thousand jin of dried rations, and conscript laborers and wheelbarrows. All must be delivered to the main camp before dawn.
"Preparing the rations is one thing—I can immediately arrange for each household to light their stoves. But laborers and wheelbarrows—we're all trapped inside the city. My orders can't even leave the gates. How am I supposed to arrange this?" Liu Jingxuan protested.
"Those are the General's orders. Nothing to do with me," the courier said with rolling eyes. "It must be done before dawn!" He leaped onto his horse and galloped off.
Liu Jingxuan paced in circles. Though Chengmai was a large county by Hainan standards, the able-bodied men that could be conscripted within the walls numbered only a few hundred. Even the militia defending the walls had mostly come from nearby villages. Steaming twenty thousand jin of dried rations was no small task either. He was about to summon an emergency meeting of the gentry when Song Zonghui muttered: "They're leaving at dawn. Why bother with all this?"
Liu Jingxuan understood his meaning but hesitated: "What if the generals demand an accounting?"
Song Zonghui snorted coldly: "When the time comes, they won't have a moment to spare for such questions." He went on to suggest that only the women should be set to cooking rations. By daybreak they could cart out whatever they'd managed to prepare.
"...And there's no need to make the full amount. First, there isn't enough time. Second, once the troops are eager to leave, they'll rush off at first light—who'll wait patiently for the county's provisions?" Song Zonghui whispered that a few thousand jin would suffice to satisfy appearances. There was no point wasting the county's remaining stores.
Following Song Zonghui's advice, Liu Jingxuan arranged for rations to be prepared while having gongs beaten halfheartedly to summon laborers. The city's common folk went into hiding. Song Zonghui then gathered all the militia, stationing them at the three city gates. As soon as the imperial soldiers at the gates departed, they would immediately seize and close the gates to prevent looting.
While the people inside the city made anxious preparations, portions of the army that had been quartered within, along with secretaries and officers, streamed out toward the camps beyond. Some soldiers took the opportunity to loot, starting fires and leaving dead bodies in their wake—killed in the chaos—along the main street before the yamen. The yamen gates had been shut, barred with heavy bolts, and reinforced with bracing poles. Liu Jingxuan waited in the main hall with dozens of conscripts, guarding the official seal. He was terrified. Already several groups of soldiers had forced their way into the yamen, waving gleaming swords and demanding "departure money," while officers came more politely with their retinues to request "temporary advances for fodder." He feared not only that the soldiers would empty the county treasury—leaving him unable to account for the funds—but also worried about his wife and concubines in the rear quarters, dreading that unruly soldiers might break in and violate them.
He Rubin was unaware that the people in the city already viewed his soldiers as bandits. He was busy sending men to hurry the troops and secretaries out of the city, while consolidating his forces near the main camp. He ordered all heavy equipment abandoned, taking only provisions and portable firearms. As for the remaining cannons of the firearms battalion, he instructed Li Modao to mount them on the camp ramparts, expend all ammunition to cover the retreat, and then abandon them.
Zhao Ruyi whispered: "Abandoning so much equipment and weaponry will be hard to explain. In my view, it would be better to transfer everything into Chengmai County town and leave five hundred men to help defend the city."
He Rubin agreed wholeheartedly. He ordered that all equipment to be abandoned be moved into the city instead, and left a qianzong with five hundred soldiers to assist in the city's defense.
In the blink of an eye, the sky began to lighten. He Rubin immediately ordered the entire army to break camp and march. Chen Renjie led the vanguard with the Qiongya Regional Commander's troops, local garrison forces, and militia. Behind them came the battered remnants of the various units—ten thousand men. Only then came He Rubin's own elite core of two thousand men, protecting the main column and supply train.
Though he had ordered all heavy equipment and surplus weapons transferred into Chengmai, the situation was too urgent. Many soldiers in the camps, desperate to flee, abandoned their positions without bothering to collect anything. Weapons and armor lay scattered everywhere.
When the report came that Chen Renjie's column had formed up and begun its march, He Rubin felt slightly relieved. His greatest fear was that in their terror and haste, the soldiers would scramble over one another to escape, throwing the retreat into chaos. Even if the bald bandits had only two or three thousand men, they could exploit such disorder to inflict a crushing defeat. He was extremely tense, constantly sending men to check on the progress of each unit's withdrawal.
The bald bandits' scouts were formidable, repeatedly intercepting his messengers. Even spies rarely returned. No prisoners had been taken in any of the battles, leaving him utterly ignorant of the enemy's disposition—as opaque as the deep sea. He Rubin knew he was like a blind man riding a blind horse, groping his way through the fight, in an extremely dangerous position.
Shortly after Chen Renjie's column set out, the follow-on units began marching in succession. He received word that the vanguard was proceeding smoothly, already three or four li ahead, which eased his mind slightly. He was pondering the next steps after reaching Qiongshan—how to report to the Governor-General, knowing full well that Zhao Ruyi would likely extort a substantial bribe from him over this—when suddenly, a rapid cascade of cannon fire erupted outside, so dense the individual reports could scarcely be counted. He started in alarm, wondering where the bald bandits had obtained so many cannons. The thunder of gunfire was followed by the din of men and horses, a scene of utter chaos. He leaped to his feet in shock and demanded:
"What's happening outside?"
"The bald bandits are attacking!" a retainer rushed in to report. "Cannons are firing from the east!"
He Rubin's heart sank. The east was the direction of Chen Renjie's vanguard retreat. Had the bald bandits already established a blocking position along the road to prevent the imperial army's withdrawal?
In moments, the gunfire and musketry outside grew ever more intense, and the clamor within the camp swelled as well. Even his own standard battalion began to waver. He was about to dispatch another scout when the Central Camp's Guard Commander, Ye Zhengfang, rushed in with a report:
"The vanguard! The vanguard!" He seemed too panicked to catch his breath. "The vanguard has been routed!"