Meishan Su family, Su Yun is the most virtuous

Chapter 456 Northern Expedition to Xijing, Southern Expedition to Dongjing!
In the autumn of the third year of the Hongwu reign, a chilling wind swept across the banks of the Yellow River, carrying sand and dust. The withered reeds swayed wildly in the wind, as if mourning the impending tragedy.

The once formidable Song-Liao allied forces, with their banners fluttering and fortifications standing tall, have now crumbled like candles in the wind.

The Song army's flags were scattered and broken, some stuck upside down in the mud, others being swept up by the sand and drifting helplessly in the air.

The soldiers abandoned their helmets and armor, their faces filled with terror, and fled in disarray like headless flies.

Behind them flowed the mighty Yellow River eastward, its surging waves forming a relentless chasm that completely blocked their retreat.

The soldiers who tried to cross the river were swallowed up by the swift current, leaving only their mournful cries for help before being swallowed up by the roaring waves.

Meanwhile, in the direction of the Liao army camp, thick smoke billowed as raging fires mercilessly devoured the tents. Burning wood crackled and sparks flew, illuminating half the sky.

The ground was littered with abandoned supplies, scattered armor, broken weapons, and tattered sacks of grain, a scene of utter chaos that seemed to tell of the Liao army's hasty and disarrayed retreat.

It turned out that after the Ming emperor annexed Sichuan, both the Liao and Song dynasties became anxious. As a result, the two countries finally made up their minds to join forces to strangle the Ming dynasty.

After nearly half a year of planning and maneuvering, they finally lured the main force of the Ming Dynasty's Jingse Army to Hebei, intending for the two countries to join forces to crush them.

However, both countries were deceived by Su Yun. The force here was not the Ming emperor's main force, but a detachment led by Su Yun himself. Meanwhile, the real main force of the Ming army, led by Zhang Jie, was heading straight for Xijing Datong Prefecture!

Upon receiving an urgent report that Xijing Datong Prefecture was under siege by Su Yun's main force and was in imminent danger, Liao Emperor Yelü Hongji disregarded the alliance with the Song Dynasty and immediately broke camp to reinforce it.

His decision was like a sharp dagger, stabbing the 200,000 elite Song soldiers, leaving them completely abandoned on the Hebei Plain, exposed to the Ming army's iron cavalry without any defense.

After several days and nights of fierce fighting, the great battle is coming to an end.

Zhao Xu, who was personally leading the expedition, stood motionless on a makeshift supply wagon, his armor blackened by smoke and dust.

The bloodstains on his armor had congealed, turning a dark red color—marks left by countless soldiers who gave their lives.

His eyes were empty and desperate as he looked at the army collapsing like a tide, as if his soul had been ripped out.

In his hand, he tightly gripped the meticulously crafted, yet-to-be-issued "Imperial Edict for the Expedition." The words "restoration," "recovery," and "alliance with Liao to destroy Ming" on the edict seemed incredibly glaring and ironic in the current situation.

He harbored lofty ambitions, believing that an alliance with the Liao Dynasty would bring about the revival of the Song Dynasty and the recovery of lost territories, but now, all of that has vanished like a bubble.

Cheng Yi's worries ultimately came true. From the very beginning, the Liao Kingdom used the promise of "returning Yan and Yun" as bait to devise a vicious plan to drive one enemy into another and watch the Song and Ming dynasties both suffer heavy losses.

They feigned an alliance, but in reality, they wanted to use the Song army to contain the Ming army, and then reap the benefits when both sides were exhausted.

Zhao Xu thus stepped into the trap set by the Liao Kingdom step by step, and now it is too late to regret it.

Oh no, or perhaps it was a trap set by Su Yun; the Liao Kingdom might also be a victim.

But that doesn't matter anymore.

On the distant horizon, the banner bearing the character "Ming" and the command flag bearing the character "Su" fluttered clearly in the wind and sand.

As time went by, the earth-shaking battle cries of the Jingse Army grew closer and closer, like the footsteps of death approaching step by step.

The voice carried boundless killing intent and intimidation, sending chills down the spines of every Song soldier.

Zhao Xu's mind kept replaying the various scenes before the expedition.

In the imperial court, the ministers spoke passionately, full of confidence in the upcoming expedition.
The people lined the streets to see them off, their eyes filled with expectation and trust.

But now, these images have become the cruelest irony.

He hated his own gullibility, hated the Liao Kingdom's betrayal, and hated his own powerlessness to reverse the situation.

The sandstorm grew stronger, blinding Zhao Xu. He slowly closed his eyes, feeling the sand and tear stains mingling on his face.

At this moment, he was no longer the high and mighty emperor, but a loser powerless to resist fate.

He knew that what awaited him and the Song Dynasty was an unprecedented disaster.

The once glorious Song Dynasty may also be plunged into an even darker abyss by this crushing defeat.

The Yellow River roared, the Ming army shouted battle cries, and the Song army cried out in despair...

……

The smoke of battle turned the sky of Xijing iron gray, and the firelight from the improved "Thunderclap" exploding on the city wall was like phosphorescent light scattered by the Grim Reaper.

Standing atop the siege tower, Zhang Jie's telescope reflected the sky-covering yellow dust raised by the Liao army's rescue forces—the 150,000 iron cavalry personally led by Yelü Hongji. The vanguard scouts had reached twenty miles outside Yanmen Pass, the central army's "Liao" banner was faintly visible in the mountain valleys, and the rear army's supply train stretched like a giant python for a full twelve miles.

Every move this team makes affects the course of the entire battle.

Zhang Jie unfolded a sheepskin map on the arrow tower of Yanmen Pass, his fingertips tracing the valley east of the black pine forest: "Send down the order to divide the three hundred crossbows into three rows, each row fifty paces apart."

The front rank focuses on shooting at the warhorses, the middle rank targets the enemy's throats, and the rear rank suppresses the enemy's formation.

The lieutenant general stared at the nine ambush points marked in vermilion on the map, cold sweat beading on his forehead: "Commander Zhang, the Liao army's vanguard has 30,000 cavalry. Even if we can hold them off, once the central army provides reinforcements..."

"So we need to make them feel that they can bite it."

Zhang Jie sneered and slammed his wolf-hair brush heavily against the cliff on the west side of the map. "Ambush the firearms battalion there. When the Liao army's vanguard rushes across the canyon, blow up the wooden bridge first, and then use thunderbolts to block the valley entrance."

But remember, only allow 30% of the vanguard to pass through, making sure to lure Yelü Hongji into personally leading reinforcements.

As the vanguard of the Liao army stepped into the Black Pine Forest, the twilight was tinging the pine needles with a blood-red hue.

The vanguard commander, Hulechi, raised his saber, signaling the troops to halt—the forest was so quiet that even the flapping of birds' wings could not be heard.

Just as he was about to send someone to investigate, a faint "creaking" sound suddenly came from the mountain wind.

"Not good!" Before Hulechi could finish speaking, three hundred ballistae simultaneously emitted a piercing whistling sound that tore through the air.

The specially made three-edged armor-piercing arrows rained down like a storm, causing the Liao army's front-line warhorses to kneel down, their iron hooves trampling the soldiers behind them into a bloody pulp.

The screams startled the poisonous bees lurking in the forest, creating a death vortex with the rain of arrows.

Hulechi immediately organized his cavalry into a wedge formation, attempting to break through by force. However, he discovered that hundreds of iron chains had been hanging down from the mountain walls on both sides, with earthenware jars filled with tung oil attached to the ends of the chains. As the Ming soldiers pulled them, the forest was instantly turned into a sea of ​​fire.

Inside the central command tent, when Yelü Hongji received the urgent report that the vanguard had been attacked, the gilded wine cup in his hand shattered instantly.

"Fools! It's just a small ambush!" He drew his sword from his waist. "Left wing troops, charge with me! Right wing troops, outflank and encircle them!"

The central vanguard has been reassigned as the rearguard to prevent a surprise attack on our main force!

The sound of horses' hooves was like muffled thunder, but as the Liao cavalry charged into the canyon, bursts of fire suddenly erupted from the western cliff.

The improved thunderbolt, coated with iron filings, swept across the area, causing the wooden bridge to collapse with a deafening roar. Molten iron splashed into the stream, sending up a pungent white mist.

Looking at the mangled remains of his troops behind him, Hulechi despaired to find that his retreat had been completely blocked by rolling logs and boulders, while the Ming army's Mo Dao formation ahead gleamed with a chilling light.

At this time, Yelü Hongji did not realize that this was only the beginning of the Ming army's strategy of besieging a point and attacking reinforcements.

When he led the main force of the central army to try to relieve the vanguard, a scout urgently reported that elite Ming troops had suddenly appeared in Daizhou, a hundred miles behind, and were fiercely attacking the city.

Yelü Hongji's expression changed drastically. If Daizhou were lost, his supply lines would be cut off, and his army would be in dire straits.

Left with no other choice, he had to send 40,000 troops back to reinforce Daizhou.

However, this was exactly what Zhang Jie wanted.

Just as the Liao army's reinforcements reached Fanshi County, the Ming army, which had been lying in ambush there, suddenly attacked.

The Ming army, with its crossbowmen and firearms battalion as the vanguard, unleashed a dense rain of arrows and explosions that instantly disrupted the Liao army's formation.

Subsequently, the infantrymen wielding long-handled swords advanced like a wall, dividing the Liao army into several sections.

The Liaodong generals who came to their aid fought desperately, but gradually succumbed to the Ming army's repeated attacks.

By the time Yelü Hongji received the news, most of the 40,000 troops he had dispatched had been lost, and the remaining troops had fled back in disarray.

Yelü Hongji was furious, but dared not easily divide his troops again.

He decided to concentrate his forces, forcefully break through the Black Pine Forest, and head straight for Xijing.

Just as he was preparing to launch a general offensive, an urgent report came from Feihu Pass in the southeast: a part of the Ming army had taken advantage of the situation and captured this important pass, cutting off the Liao army's retreat route to the east.

Yelü Hongji had no choice but to divide his forces again in an attempt to retake Feihu Pass.

This repeated itself, and within just ten days, the Liao army was exhausted from fighting on multiple battlefields, including Yanmen Pass, Daizhou, Fanshi County, and Feihu Pass.

The Ming army took advantage of the terrain, constantly setting ambushes and launching surprise attacks, then retreating after each attack, leaving the Liao army constantly on the defensive.

Yelü Hongji's 150,000-strong army was divided into several groups and fought fires all over the front line, but they were unable to break through the Ming army's blockade.

As night fell, the black pine forest had become a battlefield.

Yelü Hongji's personal guards formed a ring defense line, but they could not stop the Ming army's relentless attacks from three directions.

The Liao army attempted to break out, only to find that the Ming army had already blocked all passages with caltrops and barbed wire. Even more fatally, as time went on, the Liao army gradually ran out of arrows and gunpowder, while the Ming army's supply lines continued to flow.

When the Liao army was exhausted from running away, Zhang Jie gave an order, and the eight hundred gate-blocking wagons that had been lying in ambush behind the cliff rushed down with a roar. The wolf-tooth scythes on both sides of the wagons swept across, and blood and flesh flew everywhere they went.

As dawn broke, Yelü Hongji looked at the remaining 20,000 soldiers around him, a metallic taste rising in his throat.

His black horse's forelegs were deeply embedded in a pool of blood, while the explosions coming from the direction of Xijing in the distance grew increasingly frequent.

"Retreat to Yunzhou!" he ordered in a hoarse voice, unaware that Zhang Jie had already laid a second ambush on the only way—three thousand infantrymen wielding hook-and-sickle spears to cut the horses' legs, and archers on both flanks, forcing the Liao army, which was trying to break through, back into the pine forest.

When the Liao army desperately broke through the encirclement, they were met with the Ming army's chained cavalry formation. The warhorses, linked by iron chains, were like a moving city wall, crushing the Liao army's last resistance.

This rescue battle, which lasted for nearly a month, saw the Liao army repeatedly encounter Ming forces besieging and attacking reinforcements along a thousand-mile front, ultimately resulting in the loss of 120,000 troops. This battle not only showcased the exquisite strategic and tactical maneuvering of both sides, but also vividly demonstrated the complexity of large-scale troop movements across thousands of miles and the strategy of besieging and attacking reinforcements.

Subsequently, the Liao state fled north to the grasslands amidst Yelü Hongji's sighs, while the army at the front continued to resist.

The Liao Dynasty's withdrawal directly plunged the Song Dynasty into dire straits.

The mournful north wind, carrying the wails of the defeated army, swept across the walls of Bianjing.

When news arrived that Yelü Hongji had betrayed the alliance and that 200,000 elite Song troops had been annihilated on the banks of the Yellow River, this once bustling and wealthy imperial capital was instantly shrouded in apocalyptic panic.

On the streets, shops closed their doors, and people, young and old, pushed wooden carts full of their belongings and fled in all directions amidst the chaos.

Cries, curses, and the crashing of heavy objects falling to the ground intertwined to create a desperate lament.

What the common people didn't know was that the Emperor Zhao Xu of the Song Dynasty, whom they relied on, was pale and his hands were trembling uncontrollably.

His dragon robe was stained with blood and dust, long since losing its former majesty. "Issue the decree! Prepare the horses immediately, and move south!"

He shouted hoarsely, his voice filled with fear and despair. The battle on the banks of the Yellow River had shattered all his ambitions and even his last shred of courage.

Surrounded by his guards, he stumbled and fled, mingling with the soldiers and civilians who were also fleeing in panic.

The once high and mighty emperor is now like a stray dog, fleeing south in a sorry state with his remaining troops, attempting to emulate the previous dynasty, to establish a foothold in a corner and continue the rule of the Song dynasty.

However, Su Yun did not give the Song court any chance to breathe.

After pacifying the Hebei battlefield and completely defeating the Liao reinforcements, he quickly consolidated his forces and launched a two-pronged attack on the heartland of the Song Dynasty.

The eastern army was commanded by Wang Shunchen, whose troops were newly formed elite cavalry. Their warhorses were strong and healthy, and the knights wore gleaming armor, wielding long spears and scimitars, their eyes revealing a sharp killing intent.

This cavalry force marched south along the Yellow River like an iron torrent, and wherever it went, the Song army was routed.

Wang Shunchen understood the principle of "winning hearts and minds is the best policy." Whenever he arrived at a city, he would send people to the city's garrison and the people to spread the Ming army's policy: as long as they surrendered, they would be forgiven for their past mistakes and would be given land to live in peace and prosperity.

Under this offensive, many Song generals surrendered and led their soldiers to join the Ming army.

The eastern army, having accepted surrenders and incorporated rebels along the way, grew increasingly powerful and pursued the fleeing Song emperor with unstoppable momentum.

The central route was led by Su Yun's main force, a vast and imposing army that blotted out the sky.

The army had mountains of food and supplies, and ample supplies of arrows, weapons and other materials, all thanks to the continuous support from Shu.

The people of Shu who were allocated land were grateful to the Ming army and enthusiastically joined the army, injecting a large number of fresh blood into the army.
The refugees in Bianjing, who had suffered greatly from the exploitation of the Song court, flocked to the Ming army after hearing of its arrival, hoping to live a better life under the new regime.

These forces combined to form an unstoppable torrent.

Bianjing, the capital of the Song Dynasty, had high and sturdy city walls and was always regarded as an impregnable natural barrier.

However, they proved utterly ineffective against the Ming army's powerful siege equipment.

Su Yun brought an improved catapult, which had a longer range and greater power, and could project huge stones and pottery jars filled with gunpowder onto the city walls.

There were also ladders, battering rams, and other equipment, which, after being carefully modified by craftsmen, became more robust and durable, making it easier for soldiers to climb and storm the city gates.

The moment the siege began, the entire city of Bianjing was engulfed in flames. Catapults roared deafeningly, and huge stones and pottery jars rained down on the city walls.

The city wall trembled violently, bricks and stones fell off one after another, and the Song soldiers defending the city were smashed and bleeding before they could react.

Ladders were erected one after another on the city wall, and Ming soldiers climbed up like tigers, engaging in fierce hand-to-hand combat with the Song army defending the city.

The battering rams repeatedly rammed into the city gate, the "boom! boom!" sounds so loud they hurt one's eardrums.

Inside the city, the Song Dynasty officials who remained behind were in complete disarray.

Some advocated fighting to the death, while others suggested surrendering the city to save the lives of the people. Zeng Bu and other strategists had already secretly contacted the Ming army. They knew that the Song Dynasty's fate was sealed, and for their own future and for the sake of the people of Bianjing, they decided to abandon the darkness and surrender to the Ming.

Under their manipulation, some of the city gate guards secretly opened the gates to welcome the Ming army into the city.

Su Yun rode a tall horse and, surrounded by his personal guards, slowly entered Bianjing.

His gaze was firm as he surveyed the bustling capital, his heart filled with emotion.

Zeng Bu and others knelt by the roadside to welcome the Ming army into the city.

Su Yun dismounted, helped Zeng Bu up, and said, "Minister Zeng is a man of great talent. I will need to help him more in the future to build a peaceful and prosperous world together."

Zeng Bu was moved to tears and swore allegiance.

Upon entering the city, Su Yun immediately set about stabilizing the situation. He ordered the troops to maintain strict discipline and not to harass the civilians, with those who disobeyed to be executed.

At the same time, he dispatched officials to take over the city's government affairs, taxation, and other matters, to appease the people, and to restore production.

He adopted different approaches to dealing with members of the Song Dynasty's imperial family and officials: those who committed heinous crimes and resolutely resisted were severely punished;
Those who are willing to surrender and have talent will be employed according to their abilities.

When Zhao Xu heard the news of the fall of Bianjing while fleeing south, it was like a thunderbolt from the blue.

He slumped onto the carriage, his eyes vacant, muttering to himself, "It's over, everything is over."

ZTE's dream of revival has now been completely shattered.

His remaining troops, pursued by the Ming army's eastern route forces, scattered in all directions, offering no resistance whatsoever.

The north wind, carrying the moisture from the Yangtze River, bathed Yangzhou in a faded ink wash painting.

Zhao Xu huddled on the carved bed in the temporary palace, his body under the brocade quilt as thin as a withered branch, his knuckles bluish-white, clutching tightly a half-torn scroll of the "Imperial Edict for the Campaign".

Outside the window, a trusted eunuch, his back hunched, broke the last half of a cold, hard wheat cake into pieces and soaked it in the murky tea. "Your Majesty, please have some."

Before he could finish speaking, he was interrupted by a violent cough.

Seven days ago, when this remnant army stumbled into Yangzhou, the city gate guards even thought they were bandits—the emperor's dragon carriage was just a frame, the ceremonial banners had long been swept away by the Yellow River, and of the three hundred personal guards who accompanied him, only twenty or so remained, each with crooked armor and nicked swords hanging at their waists.

Zhao Xu remembered that on the day they entered the city, the people huddled under the eaves, looking at the procession with the eyes of strangers. Gone was the grand scene of the people of Bianjing lining the streets and shouting "Long live the Emperor" in the past.

"Report—" A guard staggered open the palace door, blood still seeping from his forehead, "Bianjing. Bianjing has fallen! Su Yun opened the granaries and distributed grain and silver from the imperial treasury to the people, and even burned the tax records from previous years in public!"

The palace was deathly silent, save for the crackling sound of the candle wick popping.

Zhao Xu sat up abruptly, aggravating the unhealed arrow wound under his ribs, and blood instantly soaked through his inner clothes. He recalled three months ago on the banks of the Yellow River when Yelü Hongji's Liao army camp was engulfed in flames, and he had felt the same terror then, only now he had no one to blame.

In a daze, the face of her father, Zhao Xu, appeared in the candlelight.

In Bianjing during the Xining era, my father would often work late into the night reviewing memorials, with a bowl of soup that had long since gone cold on his desk.

"Xu'er, the reform is for the sake of strengthening the country." The white hair at her father's temples gleamed slightly in the candlelight. "The foundation of our ancestors must not be destroyed by complacency."

But what about himself? He clenched his fist, his knuckles striking the carved dragon on the headboard, the pain making his skin numb.

In the war against Western Xia, he blindly believed his ministers and allowed Su Yun to return to the capital, but instead caused 200,000 soldiers to perish in the desert. In the alliance with Liao, he fell for Yelü Hongji's scheme of using one enemy to devour another, and personally pushed the Song Dynasty to the brink of destruction.

"Your Majesty, Su Yun hereby announces the abolition of the 'conversion' and 'buying' policies."

The guard's voice came again, but Zhao Xu couldn't hear it clearly.

Weren't those exorbitant taxes and levies implemented under his instigation by Cai Jing, Zeng Bu, and others?
In order to raise funds for the army, they devised various pretexts to force people to sell their children.

Now that Su Yun has opened the granaries in Bianjing to distribute grain, the people are shouting "King Su is wise!" while he himself has become a tyrannical ruler despised by everyone.

Memories flooded back. That year, he assumed power, standing atop the Xuande Tower, gazing upon the bustling streets of Bianjing, his heart filled with grand ambitions.

But gradually, Cai Jing and others presented him with auspicious omens and precious treasures, elevating him to a position of great power. He heard flattering words like "Your Majesty is a man of extraordinary talent" and "This is a sign of the restoration of the dynasty" so often that he actually believed he was omnipotent.

It wasn't until he reached the banks of the Yellow River and saw the words "restoration" and "recovery" on the imperial edict that he realized he had been living in a beautiful dream.

The sound of the night watchman's clapper came from outside the window; it was past midnight.

Zhao Xu felt a chill rise from the soles of his feet and spread throughout his body.

He struggled to his feet, staggered to the window, and gazed at the dark night sky over Yangzhou.

In the distance, the Yangtze River surges ceaselessly, seemingly overlapping with the waves of the Yellow River.

He recalled what Su Yun had taught him when he was a child: "Your Majesty should befriend virtuous people and keep away from petty people. You should not easily trust those who are eloquent and flattering."

But later, he was surrounded by Cai Jing and others, and couldn't hear a single word of advice.

"Cough cough." The violent coughing made him almost lose his balance, and a metallic taste rose in his throat.

His confidants rushed over, only to see him wave his hand and tremblingly pull out a yellowed tattered copy of the "Green Sprouts Law" from his sleeve—a document left behind by his father during the reform movement.

In the flickering candlelight, the ink gradually blurred, and he seemed to see his father standing in the Yanhe Hall, arguing fiercely with Sima Guang.

Back then, the Song Dynasty still possessed a vigorous and enterprising spirit, but now...

At dawn, the morning mist over Yangzhou City had not yet dissipated.

Zhao Xu lay on the dragon bed, staring blankly at the coiled dragon pattern on the ceiling.

He recalled playing in the Imperial Garden as a child, chasing a butterfly all over the garden;
I recall the first time I donned armor, drawing my bow and shooting arrows on the training ground, full of youthful vigor; I recall the despair and regret I felt when the banner with the character "Ming" pierced the sky on the banks of the Yellow River.

"Father, your unfilial son..."

After a soft murmur, Zhao Xu's hand fell limply, knocking over the teacup on the table. The tea trickled down the blue bricks, soaking the words "ally with Liao to destroy Ming" on the imperial edict, and completely extinguishing the last glimmer of hope for the revival of the Song Dynasty.

(End of this chapter)