Chapter 2156 - At the Gates of Xugang
Unlike the militia groups in the war-torn Central Plains, which were armed to the teeth, villages along the West River might have their own militia and tuanlian forces, but because Guangdong had remained relatively "peaceful," their defensive preparations were far inferior to those in the heartland. They rarely had artillery, and even light firearms were not plentiful. When the bandits had launched their assault moments ago, the dense roar of firearms from outside had already given them shivers. Now, hearing that the bandits were bringing up "cannon," the more timid among them turned white as sheets.
Old Master Xu was still the calmest of the lot. He had long known Xu Yong's character: fierce and fearless, not one to show timidity easily. If he now looked like this, he must have already lost his nerve.
If he couldn't be steadied now, he might quietly slip away to save his own skin—and then the whole village would be doomed. Old Master Xu rose at once: "Lead the way. I'll go to the front and have a look..."
"Grand Master, you mustn't—it's too dangerous!" someone cautioned.
"No matter. If the bandits can't breach our defenses, I'll inspect the front. If there really is cannon, we must come up with a countermeasure as soon as possible." With that, he instructed Xu Yong, "Lead on."
"Yes, sir! This way, Master."
Old Master Xu, with several sturdy household servants in tow, followed Xu Yong toward the village entrance.
Xugang wasn't like many villages in the Central Plains, which were surrounded by complete encircling walls. Instead, it used the complex network of waterways, ponds, and paddy fields on the lower slopes of the hills to construct a defensive system. Therefore, only three roads led into Xugang—from the east, west, and south, with the southern approach being a water route. At the entrance to each road, the Xu clan had built a stone-and-brick blockhouse, supplemented by palisades and chevaux-de-frise. In normal times, this was enough to effectively block raiders and bandits.
The eastern approach had the largest expanse of water, with channels and ponds scattered everywhere in front of the village. Bandits could only attack along a single narrow path, unable to deploy their numbers. The southern approach was the water route, and the bandits lacked enough boats. So the main thrust was against the west.
Old Master Xu made his way through the lanes and alleys. Every door was shut, every house locked. Not a sound—only a few wizened elders lingering in the streets, craning their necks to peer around. Old Master Xu felt mounting anxiety, yet kept his face composed.
As he approached the village entrance, he saw wounded men lying or sitting under the eaves on both sides of the road—some crudely bandaged with strips of cloth, others with no dressing at all, just moaning endlessly. Blood was everywhere; it was a gory sight. No one was attending to them; despite the cries for water and treatment, no one paid them any heed.
Old Master Xu was no pampered rich lord, but the sudden sight of so many casualties gave him a secret start. He quickened his pace, only to have a badly wounded man grab his robe-hem and wail for someone to treat him. He had to wrench himself free.
"The bandits have too many firearms. The boys weren't prepared—most of them took musket balls," Xu Yong explained.
The village entrance had been barricaded with bricks, tiles, and beams from demolished houses. A few brave militiamen clutching broadswords climbed up to peer over. Below, the militia and conscripted villagers huddled around the blockhouse—some with swords and bamboo spears, others with bows and crossbows, still others with nothing more than cudgels. All wore uneasy expressions. On a nearby threshing floor, a row of corpses lay under rush mats—seventeen or eighteen of them.
"The master has come! The master is here!" Seeing him approach, the defenders parted to make way. Old Master Xu entered the blockhouse with a stern face. Inside, the mingled stink of acrid gunpowder, sweat, and blood was nauseating. With Xu Yong's help, he climbed the ladder to the top level. Up there, many crenellations and embrasures had been shot away, and bloodstains splattered the floor.
"Master, the bandits are over there." Xu Yong brought him to an intact embrasure and pointed quietly.
Old Master Xu looked out. From the village entrance onward, along the road, in the paddies, along the riverbanks—corpses lay scattered. Those were presumably dead bandits. Less than half a li away was a hamlet of a dozen households, now occupied by the enemy. Whether they were cooking or had set the place alight, black smoke was rising.
Before the hamlet, a dense mass of men had gathered, all armed with swords, spears, and matchlock guns. A row of mantlets stood in front. Though the details were unclear, the array looked nothing like bandits—mantlets were bulky and hard to carry. Neither ordinary brigands nor the Yao raiders who came for quick plunder would bother with them.
"To my eyes, they look like Imperial troops!" Xu Yong muttered with a curse. "That formation, those firearms—no bandits could pull this off."
Old Master Xu nodded silently. Since the Australians had pushed in, Imperial soldiers scattering and turning bandit was a common occurrence. Xugang had seen skirmishes before. But those "bandit-soldiers" had been few in number and nowhere near this well-equipped—let alone with this much firepower.
It was truly strange! He asked: "Have you taken any prisoners?"
"We caught one, but he was badly wounded. Died before we could question him."
Old Master Xu was quietly fretting. By the look of it, this bandit force numbered at least three or four hundred. If not all of them, at least a good portion had to be former Imperial soldiers—his village's few hundred able-bodied men couldn't hold out against that. Even without cannon, a few more assaults and his side would probably collapse.
His only hope was that the county's Australians would arrive in time to rescue them.
Barely half a month ago, after the county seat had changed hands, the county had summoned each village to send a "liaison officer" to a "meeting." At the meeting they had discussed "collective defense," and Xugang had been levied for several dozen able-bodied men and a quantity of money and grain—reportedly for organizing a "National Army" in the county. The Australians had superior ships and cannon; if they told you to jump, you jumped. Everyone understood that. Later, villages were instructed to prepare wolf-smoke signals and had been issued special signal rockets, along with a little booklet explaining how to "raise the alarm" in case of siege or other emergencies. At the meeting, the officials had solemnly promised that as long as you "raised the alarm," the county's National Army would absolutely come to the rescue.
To be honest, Old Master Xu had been skeptical of these assurances. In his view, the Australians' demands for grain, money, and men were certainly real—but government relief? Since ancient times, that had never been reliable. Whether the authorities sent help usually depended on the magistrate's and his underlings' "conscience" or the "favors" one had accumulated with them.
Compared to conscience, Old Master Xu trusted favors more. So whether it was conscripting men or levying supplies, he had been—one might say—"enthusiastic." He had even used connections to a fellow townsman working for the Australians to approach the new Australian "magistrate"—they called him "Director"—with a handsome gift. But this Director was impervious to bribery: not only did he refuse the gift, he lectured Old Master Xu sternly, leaving him mortified.
That meant Old Master Xu could only rely on the "Director's" conscience now. He figured that, at the very least, given his recent compliance with all the Australians' policies, they wouldn't just let Xugang be destroyed. So besides raising the wolf-smoke, he had also dispatched his most capable steward to the county seat to "report the emergency." For extra assurance, aside from the household guards accompanying him, he had sent along five hundred taels of silver—even if the Director had a conscience, his National Army subordinates might not.
He scanned the river upstream and downstream, eyes straining, hoping to see Australian boats appear any moment. These past days, Australian steam-powered boats had been cruising the river every few days, sometimes towing long trains of barges. Why, just when he needed them most, was there not a single one in sight?
Just as his anxiety peaked, an arm shoved him roughly. Xu Yong's voice, half-startled, half-joyful, cried: "The Australians! The Australians are here!"
Old Master Xu jumped, then quickly looked in the direction Xu Yong was pointing. Coming from the upstream stretch of the West River, over a dozen Australian steamboats were churning toward them, trailing black smoke. He let out a long breath and murmured a silent thanks to Heaven and the Bodhisattvas. "Quick! Fire signal rockets to make contact!"
"Report! Signal rockets from a civilian settlement on the north bank!" the lookout shouted.
Zhu Si hastily rose and raised his binoculars. Sure enough, about a kilometer and a half downstream, red signal rockets were rising. He counted silently: "One... two..." After two, a pause, then two more fired in quick succession—the distress signal for a call for rescue.
He pulled out the map from his case and cross-checked—yes, this large village on the north bank in the hills was Xugang!
"Commander, should we fire rockets in reply?" a sergeant asked.
"No, let Lieutenant Mi's people answer." Zhu Si said, "All hands, prepare for battle!"
At that moment, Mi Longtao's command boat at the head of the flotilla launched answering signal rockets. Then a flag message came from ahead: "All boats, battle stations. Proceed as planned."
According to the prearranged plan, Mi Longtao's main force would land first and deliver a direct strike against the enemy's main body. Zhu Si's company would land next, covering the main force's flanks and rear while also mopping up scattered bandits.
Based on past experience, bandits generally had poor fighting spirit; once actual regular troops attacked, they usually scattered at once. They rarely executed any complex tactical maneuvers, so the battle plan was straightforward.
The flotilla edged toward the north bank. Mi Longtao stood on the helm platform. There were no enemy forces in sight along the shore—not even a single boat. Clearly the enemy had not come by water.
From the riverbank to Xugang Village was roughly a kilometer. The terrain was flat but extremely broken up, with rivers, channels, ponds, and paddies everywhere. Troop movement in this kind of terrain was difficult; they would have to advance along country lanes and paddy dikes.
According to the plan, one platoon of Beiwei Army regulars would serve as the vanguard, taking point. The land here was level with good visibility; Minié rifles could engage at long range with precision fire. Mi Longtao estimated that after a few volleys, the bandits would be shattered by the gunfire.
(Chapter End)