Chapter 175: The Road to Sanliang Town

Jiang Suo was her junior apprentice brother, and she knew he was very interested in her. But he was four years younger than her, still just a young lad. She was unwilling to marry a man younger than herself, and so the matter had been delayed.

However, she dared not reveal these feelings to anyone, not even to Jiang Niang, who was closest to her. Not only was it a foolish fantasy, but even if it were to happen, it would likely end badly. There had been sisters in their profession who were taken as concubines by wealthy gentry because of their beauty, but the results were mostly not good. They were either despised for being from the jianghu and had to endure humiliation, or they were abandoned after being played with.

While Sanliang’s war preparations were in full swing, Shi Zhiqi was living a leisurely life in Shiwan. After conquering Shiwan, he did not advance further—the waterways in this area were complex, and there were no available navigation charts. From the local people and captured militia, he learned that the nearby Sanliang Town was heavily defended. So Shi Zhiqi had his detachment station at Shiwan, on the one hand liquidating the prominent families that had organized the militia, and on the other hand assessing the “reasonable burden” and confiscating the property of “hostile elements.”

He set up his detachment headquarters in an ancestral hall of a prominent family at the east end of Shiwan, near the harbor. The houses here were neat, and there was also a garden. Not only was it comfortable and convenient for living, but it was also close to the troops, making it easy to command—at the first sign of trouble, they could immediately board the boats and set off. Shi Zhiqi sent out many spies to gather information from all directions. These spies were mostly poor people from the Pearl River Delta who had joined them in the last month. Wherever the detachment went, besides demanding that the villages and towns bear the “reasonable burden,” they would also use the captured rice and silver to relieve the disaster victims and take in orphans and the poor. Many people who were too poor to survive simply followed the detachment—whether they were Kun thieves or not, at least they could get a full meal and a decent set of clothes. The number of these people grew, so much so that every ten days or so, Shi Zhiqi had to send a boat to transport them to Humen, and then from Humen to the purification camp on Hong Kong Island.

Some of them remained with the detachment and moved with the army. They were organized into a separate unit, armed with captured swords and spears, and served as laborers with the army. The more clever ones with a certain degree of loyalty were sent out as spies to collect various information.

Local spies had many advantages in their activities, at least there were no flaws in their speech. It didn’t matter if a few were lost in action. Relying on the activities of the spies, Shi Zhiqi had a clear grasp of the situation and public sentiment in the area for dozens of li around.

Every day, all kinds of people flocked to his headquarters. Most of them were poor people who came to ask the Aussies to “strike at the big households,” and some came to file complaints and expose wrongdoings. Since they had hanged several well-known local bullies and despots, the number of people coming to file complaints and expose wrongdoings had greatly increased. Some even came from more than a hundred li away. The entrance to the ancestral hall was crowded every day with people wanting to see the “Aussie great leader.”

Some people not only brought petitions but also “evidence” such as bloody clothes and bloody swords. Some people carried papers with densely written characters, listing the number of businesses, the amount of land, and the amount of treasure hidden under a certain prominent family’s name. It was enough to make one’s mouth water. Every time Shi Zhiqi saw such a piece of paper, he couldn’t help but want to personally lead people to “strike at the local tyrants.” It wasn’t that he coveted the money and treasure, but the scene of so much wealth being carried out before his eyes gave him a heartfelt sense of satisfaction. And the more he captured, the greater his merits would be when his contributions were evaluated after the war.

But there were policy restrictions on confiscating the property of prominent families. The State Council strictly prohibited “striking at local tyrants” beyond the scope. Besides the organizers and leaders of the militia, the main targets were local bullies and despotic landlords. So the scope of attack was not large.

There were quite a few people who came to complain about “despotic landlords.” At first, Shi Zhiqi was very interested in being a “blue-sky master official,” but after meeting people for a day, he was no longer willing to do any “on-site office work.” The people who came to complain, expose, and inform had such a jumble of information sources that it was difficult to judge their authenticity. Moreover, there were also many who wanted to use the Aussies’ power for personal revenge. Shi Zhiqi couldn’t figure out whether it was better to handle it or not. He simply pushed the matter to the civil affairs and intelligence personnel, and hid in the backyard, leisurely receiving the landlords from the surrounding countryside—they were all afraid of the “Kun thieves’” terrible power and came one after another to offer gifts and curry favor.

Shi Zhiqi felt that instead of facing a group of ragged and hateful common people and listening to their eager accusations, it was better to sit comfortably in a grandmaster chair, chat with the smiling prominent families, drink tea, and then look at their gift lists before accepting them—a double harvest of spirit and substance.

The gifts piled up like mountains, from gold and silver treasures, antiques and paintings, silks and fabrics to rice, pigs and sheep, and even maidservants and boy servants. Shi Zhiqi accepted them all. Although they all had to be turned over to the public, the feeling of being valued was pleasant. All kinds of property were piled up under the eaves of the various courtyards of the ancestral hall, just waiting for boats to transport them.

Due to the large number of boats and personnel being used to transport spoils of war and people, the military operation against Sanliang was delayed for a few more days. It was not until October 25th that Shi Zhiqi’s E Detachment officially launched its military operation.

At this time, the E Detachment participating in the operation had been reinforced to some extent. The detachment had over three hundred men and more than twenty sampans and “long dragons.” Because they had heard that the enemy was blocking the river channels, they had brought more of the shallowest-draft, undecked small sampans to pass through the blocked sections.

After Shi Zhiqi’s fleet set off from Shigang, they traveled for four or five li and then turned into the river channel leading to Sanliang. The terrain here surprised Shi Zhiqi. The river channel became narrow, less than 20 meters on average, with a large number of aquatic plants along the banks, and they would occasionally encounter small groves of trees. He realized that the terrain in this area was very favorable for the enemy to organize an attack on the boats from the riverbanks—the enemy could completely hide and approach the river channel from both banks simultaneously, and then attack the boats in the narrow channel with bows, arrows, and firearms, inflicting heavy casualties.

“Order all boats to raise their protective boards!”

The protective boards were a recently added piece of equipment for the sampans—they were protective devices made in response to the close-range attacks from bows, arrows, and cannons that the various detachments had encountered during operations in the inland rivers in the previous stage.

They were shaped like large rectangular shields, with brackets and hinges that could be densely arranged on both sides of the gunwales of the sampans and “long dragons” to protect the sailors and soldiers on board. These protective boards were covered with iron sheets and could withstand all bows and arrows, muskets, and the grapeshot fired by most small native cannons. The soldiers could effectively protect their torsos while hiding behind the protective boards, without hindering their firing and observation.

However, with the protective boards raised, the sailing speed was greatly reduced, the boats became clumsy, and it took more effort to row forward. Therefore, they were generally only raised in battle. If the enemy’s projectile fire was not strong, the commanders would rather not use this protection to keep the boats more agile.

Shi Zhiqi’s judgment was not wrong. On the advice of several martial artists, Luo Tianqiu had specially selected a number of militia members who were skilled in archery and had them led by a special person to ambush on both banks of the river channel, waiting for an opportunity to attack the Kun thieves’ boats as harassment. And at the places where they had sunk ships and driven in wooden stakes to block the river channel, Luo Tianqiu had ambushed small teams of militia with small cannons, muskets, and bows and arrows. Everyone thought that the Kun thieves would not necessarily clear the blockades—because they had many sampans, it was easy to pass through the blocked sections. But when they passed through these places, they would inevitably slow down. At this time, the militia ambushed nearby would open fire and shoot arrows together, inflicting heavy casualties on the Kun thieves on the boats.

“Send out the scout teams to search both banks of the river and cover the fleet’s passage!” Shi Zhiqi gave the order, and then had someone bring him his steel helmet—if an arrow were to fly out from the riverbank at this time, the possibility of being killed was very high.

Four scout teams landed on both banks of the river and searched alternately as they advanced, covering the fleet’s passage. They soon engaged in a firefight with the militia ambushed in the reeds and woods. The scouts’ training in reconnaissance, stealth, and observation allowed them to spot the unsuspecting militia from a great distance and quickly annihilate them. Since this operation was not a secret raid, Shi Zhiqi did not require the clearing work to be quiet—what he wanted was to quickly and safely cover the fleet’s passage through the river channel.

Thus, once the scouts discovered an ambush of militia, they would open fire with their rifles from a long distance. Amidst the scattered gunshots, the militia on both banks were quickly cleared. The survivors did not dare to stay on the bank and fled back one after another.

After walking for more than two hours in the winding river channel, the scouts finally encountered a large group of militia for the first time. With the support of the cannons on the boats, this group of militia quickly fled, leaving behind several small native cannons. Shi Zhiqi found that he could not continue to advance. The sampans had already scraped the bottom—they had encountered the first line of blockades.

The skilled swimmers on the boats went into the water to investigate and found that a line of three rows of wooden stakes had been driven into the river channel here. The stakes were very thick and almost protruded from the water surface. Even the sampans could only be barely pulled over the top of the stakes. Sometimes the soldiers on the boats had to get off to reduce the draft.

“Tie ropes to the stakes and then row hard!”

This method was very simple, but it had worked in actual combat before. In the 16th century, when the Spanish conquered Mexico City, they had used this method to clear the wooden stakes that the Mexicans had driven into the lake around Mexico City.

Ropes were quickly tied to the stakes and tightened, and then several sampans rowed at the same time. The ropes were pulled taut, and the sterns of the sampans even half-sank, but the stakes remained motionless.

They then tried several other stakes, but none could be pulled up like the Spanish had done back then. One sampan almost capsized.

“Strange, didn’t the Spanish do it this way?” Shi Zhiqi scratched his head, feeling a little embarrassed. He had heard this knowledge from someone and had not read the original work, so he didn’t know that the Spanish had used much larger two-masted sailboats to pull up the stakes.

Seeing that they had wasted more than an hour without any progress, Shi Zhiqi decided not to waste any more time on this. He had neither the right tools nor enough manpower to clear the underwater obstacles and could only pass over them to continue advancing. But this meant that all the “long dragons” had to be left behind the obstacles, and only the sampans could continue to advance. And all the cannons were mounted on the “long dragons.”

Shi Zhiqi ordered the 12-pounder mountain howitzers to be dismantled and distributed among the sampans. The sampans had too shallow a draft to carry much ammunition, so the two cannons only brought 40 rounds, half solid shot and half canister shot. He then ordered a few men to stay behind to guard the boats, while the others dragged the sampans one by one over the stakes and continued to advance.

After walking for another two li, the scouts once again engaged in a firefight with the militia guarding the blockade line. At this time, the cannons could not fire to provide support, and a single squad of scouts was soon unable to withstand the fierce attack of more than a hundred militia members with bows, arrows, and native cannons, and was forced to retreat. The militia members charged to a very close distance to the sampans before being repelled by the rifle fire from the sampans. But they did not withdraw from the blockade line, only retreating beyond the effective range of the Minie rifles, waiting for an opportunity to attack again.

Shi Zhiqi once wanted to let the troops go ashore and march, to avoid being unable to effectively use their firepower on the boats and being difficult to conceal—they were practically living targets. But after he personally went ashore, he was shocked. There was no large piece of land here at all, only rivers, ponds, and paddy fields everywhere. It was clear that simple makeshift bridges had once been built at some river forks and dikes, but they had all been dismantled now. If the troops abandoned the boats and marched on foot, it would take a lot of time just to build bridges along the way. He had no choice but to order the troops to continue by boat.

Advancing under constant mutual fire, the resistance they encountered became more and more intense. Perhaps because they discovered that the Kun thieves could not use their cannons, the militia also became more audacious. When the sampans tried to cross the blockade line, the militia would fire fiercely with native cannons and bows and arrows, until the marines landed on the riverbank and launched a charge to drive them away. The battles to cross the river channel blockade lines were one after another. The militia used every opportunity when the fleet was delayed by the obstacles and stuck on the river surface, unable to use its firepower, to launch attacks. Arrows and projectiles from muskets and native cannons rained down. Although they did not cause many casualties, they greatly delayed the detachment’s advance. The detachment had walked for almost a whole morning to cover a distance of less than ten li. During this period, one person was killed and ten were wounded. One sampan was also scraped on the bottom while being dragged over the stakes and sank due to a leak.

Shi Zhiqi’s face was ashen. This was a huge embarrassment! Since the E Detachment had been deployed in the Pearl River campaign, they had attacked villages and captured forts all the way, without any casualties or loss of boats. Now, a soldier had been killed by the militia, and a sampan had been sunk! It would be too embarrassing to go back.

Just then, the sampans in front opened fire again. He quickly raised his telescope. The leading sampans were already shrouded in the thick smoke from the firing of the Minie rifles. Only the flames from the muzzles of the rifles could be seen in the smoke. On the riverbank, gongs and drums were beating, and many people were shouting and screaming, creating a clamor. Suddenly, a cloud of smoke rose from the bushes, and with a clap of thunder, many small water spouts were raised on the river surface. Some iron sheets hit the protective boards on the sampans directly, making a clanging sound.

“Fire in the direction of the smoke!” the NCOs on the nearby sampans shouted, pointing out the direction of fire. A dozen or so Minie rifles fired simultaneously at the smoky bushes. The sound of gunfire, the tearing sound of bullets passing through branches and leaves, and the screams of people were all mixed together. Shi Zhiqi nervously observed the riverbank with his telescope. Several sampans, without waiting for orders, had already rowed towards the riverbank to let the marines land and drive away the enemy.

A dense shower of arrows flew out from the bushes. The marines ducked their heads behind the protective boards, which were soon covered with arrows. From time to time, the roar of a few muskets could be heard. Iron projectiles hit the protective boards with a “bang, bang” sound. The marines stuck their muzzles out from behind the protective boards and continuously returned fire. After a few minutes of firefight, the firing from the shore gradually ceased, and it slowly fell silent.

After driving away the militia, the fleet slowly passed through the blockade line. Ahead was a bend in the river channel. The river surface narrowed, and the current was swift. The banks became steep. The first sampan, to avoid the current in the center of the channel, moved closer to the riverbank. At this moment, several figures suddenly jumped out from the grass on the riverbank and pushed a dark object onto the sampan.

Before Shi Zhiqi could cry out in alarm, the first sampan exploded in a cloud of smoke.

Almost simultaneously, the sampans behind opened fire. The grass was riddled with bullets, and a militia member was shot and fell into the river from the riverbank.

The other sampans quickly closed in. The bombed sampan was still floating on the water. The protective boards on both sides and part of the hull had been blown off. The dozen or so marines and sailors on board were lying in a heap at the bottom of the boat, covered in blood. One person, probably because the explosive had gone off in his arms, had a hole blown in his stomach, and his dark red internal organs were exposed. A bloody, burnt smell and the smell of gunpowder filled the air.

“A ‘ten-thousand-man enemy’!” a naval officer cried out.

The “ten-thousand-man enemy” was a native Chinese firearm: a bomb made from a clay pot, filled with seven or eight jin, or even dozens of jin, of black powder, plus various iron projectiles, small stones, and porcelain shards as shrapnel. When used, the fuse was lit and it was thrown down from the city walls. Its killing effect was very considerable by the standards of the time, and it was a powerful weapon for defending a fortress. But the “ten-thousand-man enemy” was very heavy and could not be used as a hand grenade at all. No one had expected the militia to use it in a field battle.

They had not expected them to take advantage of the terrain of the cliff on the riverbank and simply push the “ten-thousand-man enemy” down as the boats passed by, hitting them squarely. When this thing exploded on a small, crowded sampan, the power was imaginable.

All eleven people on the sampan were killed in this surprise attack, and their weapons were all destroyed. The losses were heavy. After the marines landed, they only found a few corpses of militia members who had been killed by random gunfire nearby.

“Fuck!” Shi Zhiqi swung his command sword angrily. “Charge into Sanliangshi! Leave no one alive!”