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Chapter 218 The Bloody Battle of Baliqiao (Part 2) The Change of Fate (Second update today, the 6 AM update is coming earlier)
Chapter 217 The Battle of Baliqiao (Part 2) - The Change of Fate
At the exact moment of Wei Shi (1-3 PM), the sun was setting in the west, and the color of the light began to take on a slightly bloody hue.

Li Changgen crouched behind the newly built earthen platform on the east bank, only half of his head showing. The helmet plumes of the Tartar soldiers on the bridge rustled, and a shadowy figure could be seen under the brocade dragon banner on the opposite slope.

He clenched his jaw tightly and pressed his hand down sharply.

The flag bearer swung the red corner flag down with a sudden chop.

"put!"

When the orders were passed down, their voices were hoarse.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The three blasts of the cannon sent a jolt through everyone's hearts.

Immediately afterwards, the ground began to shake.

The straw mats and mounds of earth on the east bank were suddenly ripped away, revealing 84 cannons. The dark muzzles of the cannons were all pointed at the bridge.

Forty 40-pound cannons fired first, a flash of fire, and iron pellets swept across like water. The Tartar soldiers on the bridge were cut down as if by an invisible scythe, men and horses falling, blood splattering onto the stone bridge, steaming hot.

Twenty-four four-pound cannons fired solid shot, which then crashed into the rear ranks. The iron balls were not well-behaved after landing; they bounced and plowed forward, shattering wherever they hit, sending broken arms and legs flying high into the air.

Another 20 cannons fired shrapnel from the side, blocking the open space at the bridgehead in a crisscross pattern.

The sounds blended together, indistinguishable, a constant vibration that made one's feet numb and chest feel tight. Gunpowder smoke billowed up, pungent and acrid, instantly blurring one's vision.

Yang Guli had just spurred his horse onto the bridge when he felt a sudden, sharp pain in his chest, as if he'd been struck by a battering ram. Looking down, he saw several holes in his iron breastplate, blood gushing out instead of flowing. He tried to scream, but blood bubbled from his mouth, and his body went limp, causing him to fall from his horse.

The bridge was immediately blocked. Dead horses and dead people were piled up together.

On the high slope across the river, Huang Taiji's hand, holding the binoculars, froze. The binoculars were full of smoke, with occasional flashes of red.

“Father! On the bridge… it’s Yanguli…” Hauge’s voice trembled.

Huang Taiji put down the mirror; his face was pale. "The bridge is about to be blocked," he forced out through clenched teeth. "Make the people downstream wade across! Tear open a gap!"

The order was swiftly relayed. A few hundred paces downstream, where the water was calm and the banks were flat, a mournful bugle call rang out. The supervising officers, brandishing knives, forced the Han soldiers and bondservant aha to leap into the river like dumplings being dropped into boiling water, howling as they rushed towards the opposite bank. Some elite soldiers in white armor mingled among them, attempting to create a breach.

Hearing the commotion downstream from the earthen platform, Li Changgen spat on the ground. "Damn it, trying to cut off my escape route?"

He immediately gave the order: "Order the gunners downstream to bombard the river! Musketeers, move to the bank and shoot those wading through the water!"

The command flag was waved. The 20 cannons, pre-positioned behind the wooden palisades on the south bank of the Tonghui River, roared once more, their shrapnel raining down on the river like hail. The Later Jin soldiers wading across the river fell in droves into the blood-soaked water, which quickly turned crimson.

Li Changgen turned to look at the bridge. The smoke was still thick, but the Tartars were clearly in disarray. He steeled his resolve and stood up from behind the earthen platform. "Cavalry!" he roared, "Follow me across the bridge! Take advantage of the chaos and seize the north end!"

He personally mounted his horse and drew his sword: "Brothers, today is the day to kill slaves and achieve glory! Charge with me!"

The Ming cavalry roared and surged towards the smoke-filled Baliqiao Bridge like a flood bursting its banks.

Visibility on the bridge was extremely low at this time. The thick smoke from the south wind, mixed with the stench of blood from the bridge, made it difficult to breathe. The Ming cavalry had just charged onto the bridge when they ran headlong into the elite Later Jin troops who were either trying to rescue the Eight Banners soldiers who had been bombarded on the bridge or trying to retrieve the bodies of their fallen comrades!

Both sides were crammed together on the narrow bridge, unable to maneuver freely. Warhorses neighed in terror, and soldiers, jostled together, hacked and slashed at each other with sabers, spears, and maces. Sparks flew as blades struck iron armor, and screams, the clash of weapons, and the wails of the dying filled the air. Men were constantly being pushed off the bridge and into the Tonghui River below. This battle had no skill; it was purely a test of will and flesh.

Li Changgen took the lead and used his ruthless swordsmanship to cut down two enemies in succession. He led his elite retainers through a mountain of corpses and a sea of ​​blood, and charged to the north end of the bridge!

"Hold your ground! No retreating! Pikemen and musketeers, get close!" he shouted as he parried the enemy's attacks.

Subsequent Ming infantrymen continuously crossed the stone bridge and quickly deployed on the north bank, forming a battle formation.

Huang Taiji, standing on a high slope on the west bank, watched in disbelief as the Ming army dared to cross the bridge and launch a counterattack, even managing to gain a foothold. He was filled with shock and anger.

"They've rebelled! They've rebelled! Push them back! Take back the bridge!" He then deployed his most elite Bayara guards.

The two sides engaged in an even fiercer struggle in the narrow area on the north bank of the bridge. The Ming army, relying on its newly established lines and subsequent reinforcements, fought to the death; the Later Jin army, relying on individual bravery, launched a frenzied counterattack. The battle line was like a tug-of-war, changing hands repeatedly, every inch of land soaked in blood.

Li Changgen knew that it would be difficult to completely defeat the enemy with his own strength alone. However, he successfully kept Huang Taiji's main force firmly at the bridgehead, creating a decisive opportunity for the entire battle.

He withstood the pressure and remained steadfast on the north bank, giving his former superior, Sun Zushou, a chance further north!
……

Ten miles to the north, at a bend in the North Canal, the sound of rushing water could be heard.

Sun Zushou stood on the bank, his white beard billowing wildly in the wind. The sound of cannon fire from the direction of Baliqiao to the south grew louder and louder, rolling over like muffled thunder. On the opposite bank, the Khorchin Mongol cavalry lines began to stir, their horses pawing restlessly.

"General, Governor Lu has made his move!" the deputy general shouted, pointing south.

Sun Zushou didn't turn around, his eyes fixed on the opposite bank. "I heard you," he said hoarsely. "Let's not just stand by and watch. Artillery, fire first, hold the line. Infantry, prepare to cross the river!"

The command flag was waved. Dozens of breech-loading cannons and general's cannons from the Jizhou garrison fired, sending solid iron balls hurtling towards the opposite bank. The shells landed in the Mongol army's ranks, splashing mud and bits of flesh, causing chaos.

The infantrymen, who had been waiting, gave a shout, carried the rafts they had hastily made overnight, and waded down to the riverbank, one step at a time.

Arrows rained down from the opposite bank, and men fell one after another, struck by arrows. Blood quickly stained the riverbank red. The raft rocked in the river, and the soldiers, using rattan shields to protect themselves, paddled desperately.

After paying the price of dozens of lives, the vanguard finally climbed onto the mudflats on the south bank. Before they could even get their footing, the Khorchin cavalry charged at them.

"Form ranks! Form ranks now!" The captain leading the team shouted until his voice was hoarse.

The landing Ming soldiers, soaked to the bone, managed to form a few small circles. Mongol cavalry charged, their spears piercing the bellies of their horses, which collapsed with mournful cries. More cavalry circled around the perimeter, firing arrows, and Ming soldiers fell one after another, struck by arrows. The muddy beach had become a battlefield of carnage.

On the opposite bank, Khorchin Taiji Norbu's face grew increasingly grim. The Ming army's offensive was far more ferocious than he had anticipated, relentless and unstoppable, with at least dozens of cannons firing continuously from the opposite bank! If this continued, his men would be wiped out. "Quickly, report to the Khan!" he roared to his personal guards, "Tell him that Sun Zushou's main force has crossed the river, our flank is in danger, and he must send reinforcements immediately!"

The guards mounted their horses and charged southwest towards Baliqiao.

Sun Zushou watched from the north bank of the river, his face ashen. If this dragged on, the infantry crossing the river would suffer heavy losses.

He suddenly drew his sword: "Guards, follow me!"

He personally led two thousand of his personal guards and cavalry to charge down the riverbank. The river water reached the horses' bellies, and the icy water seeped into their boots.

Arrows rained down from the opposite bank, and men and horses fell one after another, struck by arrows. Sun Zushou crouched low and urged his horse forward.

Norbu anxiously gazed southwest. The sounds of battle from the other side of Baliqiao were deafening, and dust billowed, clearly indicating that Huang Taiji's main force was locked in a fierce struggle. His personal guards, whom he had sent out, had not returned and were nowhere to be found.

"Taiji! We can't hold on!" A centurion covered in blood ran up. "The Ming cavalry have crossed the river. They're all formidable!"

Norbu looked south and, sure enough, saw a large contingent of Ming cavalry wading through the water. Looking southwest again, he still saw no sign of reinforcements. He made a snap decision: "Retreat! Retreat north!"

He turned his horse and rode away first. The Mongol cavalry were not fond of fighting to the death, and they were most afraid of fighting the Ming Dynasty's personal guards. When they saw their commander run away, they scattered in all directions.

Zhao Hu's cavalry captain was the first to charge onto the south bank, his face slashed by arrows, and he brandished his sword, roaring, "Kill the slaves!"

The cavalry charged towards the flank of the Khorchin army. Wang Degong's troops charged towards the Mongol archers' positions, their sabers felling several archers and scattering their formation.

The remaining Ming soldiers on the beach watched the dust and smoke of the fleeing north, then collapsed into the mud, too exhausted to even cheer.

……

At the beginning of the Shen hour (3-5 PM), the balance of power on the battlefield completely reversed.

To the north, Sun Zushou's entire army waded across the North Canal, their battle flags pointing south, and their infantry and cavalry began to surge southward like a tide.

On the southwest side, Lu Xiang-sheng saw that Li Chang-gen had withstood the counterattack of crossing the river. He waved his command flag, and the gate of Balizhuang was opened. Fresh troops surged out and, together with Li Chang-gen's troops on the east bank of the bridge, launched a pincer attack on the remaining Later Jin troops at the west bank of the bridge.

The Later Jin army was attacked from both sides, and its morale collapsed instantly. At first, a few turned and fled west, but soon entire corps and regiments were routed. Soldiers could not find their officers, and officers could not attend to their soldiers. Men and horses collided and trampled each other, and the battle line collapsed like an avalanche.

On the high slope of the west bank, Huang Taiji's face was ashen, and his tightly pursed lips were devoid of any color. He watched helplessly as the surging tide spread and heard the deafening shouts of battle pressing in from the north and south.

"Father! We can't fight anymore!" Hauge rushed over and shouted, "Sun Zushou is pressing in from the north! If we don't leave now, we'll be surrounded!"

Huang Taiji closed his eyes, took a deep breath of the scorching, gunpowder-smelling air, and when he opened them again, all that remained in his eyes was a cold, lifeless stillness.

"Order to withdraw."

He paused, his voice hoarse but firm: "Send Gebushi Xianchao up there to hold off the Ming army from the north. Fan Wencheng!"

"Your servant is here!" Fan Wencheng scrambled over, his official robe torn and a bloody gash on his face.

Huang Taiji's gaze was icy, fixed on his face: "You, take all the bondservant battalions, cover the rear. Block Lu Xiang-sheng. At all costs."

Fan Wencheng's body trembled, and his forehead slammed heavily into the ground: "Yes, Your Majesty! This servant... obeys the decree!"

When he got up, all traces of his scholarly air had vanished from his face, replaced by a desperate madness. He drew his sword and charged towards the chaotic ranks of bondservant soldiers, roaring hoarsely, "Form ranks! Use wagons! Use corpses! Pile them up! Archers, advance! Anyone who dares to retreat a single step will be executed on the spot!"

The bondservants he brought immediately transformed into a supervisory force, brandishing their swords and forcing the other pale-faced Han Chinese and Korean bondservants to turn around. They used everything they could find—broken shield carts, dead warhorses, even the corpses of their comrades—to build a low wall, and then fired a sparse barrage of arrows and threw their last javelins at the approaching Ming army.

These abandoned people, in their desperate situation, unexpectedly unleashed their final ferocity, causing considerable trouble for the pursuing Ming army. The battle suddenly became exceptionally brutal, with both sides repeatedly fighting over the hastily erected wall of corpses. The pile of corpses grew higher and higher, and blood soaked every inch of the ground beneath their feet.

To the north, Gebushixianchaoha's White-Armed Soldiers silently lined up and launched a counter-charge against Sun Zushou's vanguard. These elite heavily armored soldiers were fearless and well-equipped; they used their flesh and blood to temporarily block the southward advance of the Jizhou Army, trading their lives for a moment.

Using the time gained at the cost of the lives of his elite troops and bondsers, Huang Taiji, under the protection of his personal guards, led his defeated Eight Banners army in a hasty retreat northward.

The retreat was chaotic. Sony led a group of bondservants in their retreat. As they passed an overturned shield cart, he glimpsed a person trapped underneath. Judging from the robes, the person was a Han Chinese bondservant, covered in blood, and his condition was unknown.

It was that lame lackey, Zhao Si.

Kim Seong-in, who was following behind Sony, recognized him and pleaded with gestures and words in a mix of Manchurian and Chinese that he had just learned. Sony glanced irritably at the dust cloud rolling in from the north and waved his hand.

Jin Chengren quickly squatted down and laboriously dragged the barely alive Zhao Si out from under the car, hoisted him onto his shoulder, and staggered to catch up with the retreating group.

……

The sounds of cannon fire and shouts of battle ceased at some point.

The area around Baliqiao was eerily quiet. Only the occasional drawn-out groan of a wounded soldier and the mournful neighing of a lost warhorse could be heard. The Tonghui River, stained dark red with blood, flowed slowly downstream. On the riverbanks and in the fields, corpses lay everywhere, layer upon layer, stretching as far as the eye could see. Torn flags, dulled swords and spears, and warhorses, dead or dying, littered the landscape.

The Ming soldiers, in groups of three or five, silently cleared this dead land. They kicked at the overturned Tartar corpses, finishing off any still breathing ones. Most of the time, they searched through the piles of their comrades' bodies, occasionally dragging out a still-breathing one and quickly calling for medics. The captured armor and weapons piled up into several small mountains. Several thousand captured bondservant aha were held in a clearing, their faces ashen, trembling with fear.

An old cook, carrying a load on a shoulder pole, trudged through the pile of corpses. One end of the pole held murky, cold water, the other steaming meat buns. He saw a wounded Ming soldier still moving, squatted down, fed him some water, and gave him a bun. He walked to a young Later Jin soldier, half-leaning against a dead horse. The boy had a hole in his chest, his eyes were still open, and his mouth opened and closed. The old cook hesitated for a moment, then took a bun and offered it to him. The boy looked at him, his fingers twitched, but he didn't take it. His head lolled to the side, and he was dead. The old cook silently took the bun back, wiped his hands on his clothes, picked up his load again, and continued on his way.

Lu Xiang-sheng's arm was wrapped in bandages, the blood seeping out turning a dark brown. He had been wounded by a stray arrow in today's battle, but was otherwise unharmed. He met Sun Zu-shou outside Balizhuang. Both were covered in blood-stained armor, and their faces showed little other than exhaustion.

"General Sun." Lu Xiang-sheng cupped his hands in greeting.

"Governor Lu." Sun Zushou returned the greeting, his gaze sweeping over the crimson river below the bridge, then turning to the ravaged battlefield in the distance. His white beard trembled, and finally, he uttered only a sigh: "A pyrrhic victory..."

Lu Xiang-sheng didn't reply, only nodded. He turned and looked north. Darkness was falling; at the edge of the northern wilderness, twilight descended, and a palpable sense of impending doom seemed to rise from the horizon. They had defeated Huang Taiji's forces, but there was still Dorgon, Liaoyang, Shenyang, and the vast grasslands.

This battle is far from over.
(End of this chapter)