How can one be Emperor Chongzhen without money?

Chapter 261 Huang Taiji, you attack Fuzhou, I'll attack Hauge!
On the 20th day of the sixth month of the fourth year of Chongzhen's reign, it was just dawn.

The north bank of the Shahe River was packed with people.

The North Korean Green Standard Army soldiers, wearing newly changed cotton armor, stood silently, clutching daggers, rifles, or muskets.

At the head of the procession, the garrison commander Zhao Si, leaning on a knife and limping, walked back and forth.

His pockmarked face looked even darker in the morning light.

"Listen up, everyone!" Zhao Si shouted at the top of his lungs in Korean, "The Khan gives us plenty of food and pay! He lets us stand tall and be respectable people, no longer the mud beneath those yaban lords' feet!"

He suddenly jabbed the ground with the scabbard.

"If we cross this river today, the other side will be the territory of the southern barbarians! Whoever charges across first will be rewarded with ten taels of silver! The Great Khan will grant him gracious favor, elevate him to the banner system, and make him a true Tartar... a true Manchu!"

The North Korean soldiers standing below immediately brightened up.

Most of them came from lowly backgrounds and suffered endless oppression in Korea. Now, following the Eight Banners soldiers, they have a way to survive, and they are filled with resentment, wishing they could smash everything to pieces.

The deputy, Zhang Zhongjin, was a burly man with a face full of scars. He brandished a leather whip and roared, "Everyone, get your spirits up! Charge when the cannon fires! Anyone who dares to back down, I'll recognize you, but I won't recognize this whip!"

In the distance, a small squad of Bayara soldiers in white armor watched coldly, as if they were looking at a pack of hunting dogs about to be unleashed to tear them apart.

The south bank of the Shahe River, however, was utterly silent.

A tall wooden fence winds its way along the riverbank.

Behind the fence, every mile or so, there was a drab earthen fortress, like a silent behemoth.

On the watchtower of the main bastion, Huang Degong, with his hand on his waist sword, squinted and looked north.

He could see the bustling scene on the north bank clearly.

"This time, the Tartars' dogs are a bit fiercer than usual," he snorted.

He turned and went down from the watchtower.

The fortress gates were wide open, and a line of sidecars filed out.

Each cart was pulled by mules, with a large dove-shaped musket mounted on it, and some wooden boxes piled up, containing a swarm of rockets.

This was Huang Degong's most elite wagon battalion, its organization differing from the infantry battalions of the other armies of the Imperial Guard. Each battalion consisted of only 1,200 men and 128 wagons, without artillery, but equipped with a large number of muskets and swarms of firearms. Such a wagon battalion would be impractical elsewhere, but behind the palisade south of the Shahe River, it was perfectly suited!

Huang Degong mounted his horse and said to the adjutant behind him, "You take your men and guard the fort. I will personally lead the chariot battalion to provide mobile support behind the south bank fence."

"General, this is too dangerous!" the adjutant hurriedly advised.

"What are you afraid of!" Huang Degong waved his hand. "I want to see for myself just how capable these Korean bastards really are! Open the south gate!"

The south gate of the main bastion slowly opened. Outside the gate was a pontoon bridge leading to the south bank of the Shahe River. Huang Degong took the lead, leading the huge wagon corps across the river with a rumble, and disappeared into the road behind the fence.

The sun rose higher, and the mist over the river dissipated.

Suddenly, a muffled, thunderous cannon shot rang out from the north bank.

The cannons of the Later Jin Han army opened fire, and two-pound projectiles pounded against the wooden palisades and fort walls on the south bank, kicking up a cloud of sawdust and dust.

The sound of cannon fire is the signal.

Zhao Si pointed his knife forward, limped forward, and roared hoarsely, "For the Great Khan! Kill!"

"kill!"

Thousands of North Korean Green Standard Army soldiers, like a flood bursting its banks, roared as they rushed down the riverbank and plunged into the sandy river.

The river wasn't deep, just up to waist level, but it flowed swiftly.

The crowd thronged together, pushing and shoving, brandishing weapons, as they surged toward the south bank. Their momentum was indeed far more ferocious than when they served as soldiers for King Yi of Joseon.

On the south bank, behind the fence, all was quiet.

The Ming soldiers guarding the palisade, including arquebusiers and crossbowmen, huddled behind their fortifications, their gun barrels and crossbow bolts aimed at the river, remaining motionless.

Huang Degong's wagon corps was moving rapidly along the dirt road inside the fence at this moment.

A scout reports: "General! The Tartars' main attack is from the shallows three miles to the west!"

"Turn west!" Huang Degong immediately gave the order.

The massive wagon train immediately turned west, its wheels rolling and kicking up clouds of dust.

Soon, the convoy arrived at the designated location. There, just outside the fence, were two wooden forts, forming a pincer-like formation.

"Form a chariot formation!" Huang Degong shouted, reining in his horse.

The well-trained Ming army acted immediately, linking the wagons end to end to quickly form a horizontal formation between the two earthen fortresses. The soldiers skillfully secured the wagons, removed the dove-shaped muskets and mounted them on the sides of the wagons, and placed gunpowder gourds and lead bullet bags within easy reach.

As soon as the chariot formation was completed, the North Korean soldiers in the river rushed to the center of the river.

"Hit!" Huang Degong swung his arm down suddenly.

Connect! Connect! Connect!
The general's cannons in the two wooden forts opened fire first, and the shrapnel swept across the river like iron brooms. The Korean soldiers wading across the sandy river had no way to use their shield carts for cover, and many of them fell to the ground, blood gushing up.

Zhao Si, limping, stumbled in the water and almost fell. Zhang Zhongjin quickly steadied him, holding up his shield to block the flow of the water, shouting, "Quick! Charge! We'll be fine once we're on land!"

At that moment, the muskets of the spotted doves in the chariot formation also fired.

More than a hundred large guns fired simultaneously, the sound shaking the ground. A dense hail of iron pellets rained down on the North Korean soldiers who had just climbed onto the south bank beach.

This dove-shaped musket is extremely powerful; a close-range hit will either kill or maim the target.

The North Korean soldiers at the forefront fell in droves, like wheat being harvested.

Immediately afterwards, a swarm of rockets were lit, trailing white smoke and screeching as they plunged into the crowd and exploded with a deafening roar.

The arquebusiers of the Imperial Guard, lined up in three rows, took turns firing. The crackling sounds were incessant, and the air was thick with smoke.

Crossbow bolts also flew out from the wagon formation and wooden fortress.

The entire shallows instantly turned into a battlefield.

The Korean soldiers charged fiercely, but they died quickly. The corpses piled higher and higher on the riverbank, staining the water red. Zhao Si's eyes also turned red. He brandished his knife, limping, still trying to charge forward. A Ming musketeer aimed at him and fired a shot. Zhang Zhongjin reacted quickly, using his shield to block the bullet; it struck the iron-clad shield corner with a crisp clang.

"Defend! We can't charge!" Zhang Zhongjin held Zhao Si back tightly.

As Zhao Si watched the soldiers falling around him and the iron chariots spitting fire on the opposite bank, his fanatical fervor was finally extinguished by the coldness of death. He gasped for breath, his pockmarked face twitching.

"Retreat...retreat..." he finally managed to squeeze out a few words through gritted teeth.

Clang clang clang—the sound of retreating troops came from the north bank.

The surviving Korean soldiers, as if granted a pardon, scrambled back to the north bank, leaving behind a river full of corpses.

The battle lasted from morning until noon, then it ended.

Huang Degong stood in the formation of wagons, watching the retreating enemy troops, but there was no joy on his face.

"Check the ammunition," he ordered.

The grain clerk quickly ran to report: "General, we've used up 30% of the powder for the dove-foot guns, 20% for the muskets, and nearly half of the rockets..."

Huang Degong frowned. They'd only repelled one attack, and the losses were already so great.

He looked up at the north bank. There, the dark mass of bondservantes had begun digging again, and trenches, like venomous snakes, slowly stretched towards the south bank.

"Damn it, that old bastard Huang Taiji is determined to wear me down." He spat. "Write an urgent report to the Emperor! Say that we can win the war, but the gunpowder and lead bullets need to be delivered quickly! Quickly!"

On the high platform of the Later Jin army camp on the north bank.

Huang Taiji leaned against the railing, watching expressionlessly as the North Korean soldiers retreated like a receding tide.

Fan Wencheng and several princes stood behind him, not daring to breathe.

"Hmph." Huang Taiji gave a soft hum, his tone revealing neither joy nor anger.

“Great Khan,” Fan Wencheng began cautiously, “Although the Korean troops were defeated, they did manage to ascertain the strength of the southern barbarians. Their wagon cavalry's firearms were indeed formidable, especially after they formed ranks and launched a frontal assault, resulting in heavy casualties…”

Huang Taiji waved his hand, interrupting him.

"I saw it." His voice was calm, his gaze still fixed on the continuous wooden palisades on the south bank and the wooden forts where flags occasionally fluttered. "That little Chongzhen has piled up all his wealth in Fuzhou. The firearms are powerful, and the fortifications are also very clever."

He turned around and glanced at the crowd.

"But with Korea, I can also get powerful firearms. At worst, it'll be firearms against firearms, earthen walls against earthen walls!"

He walked to the edge of the platform and pointed to an open area on the north bank of the Shahe River.

"Send the order!"

"Yes, sir!" the crowd responded sternly.

"Order all the bondservant aha to stop making crossing equipment. Have all the men build a low wall for the khuur along the north bank of the sand! Leave a loophole every ten steps."

"I will send another ten Han Chinese bannermen to defend these low walls. If the Ming army dares to cross the river and counterattack, I will shoot them with arrows and fire them with guns!"

"This servant understands!" Fan Wencheng immediately grasped that this was to establish a solid defensive line on the north bank, completely cutting off the possibility of the Ming army actively crossing the river to harass the enemy, and confining the battlefield entirely to the south bank.

Huang Taiji's finger then pointed towards the main fortress of Fuzhou.

"Surround that main fortress with trenches, just make sure the Ming army can't get out! Also, bring ten general-grade cannons over to build artillery emplacements behind the trenches! I don't need it to collapse immediately, but I want it to never have peace day or night!"

“Finally,” Huang Taiji’s gaze sharpened, “call Tong Yangxing over.”

Before long, Tong Yangxing, the Han Army Banner Gushan Ezhen, quickly ascended the high platform.

"Your humble servant Tong Yangxing pays his respects to the Great Khan!"

"Tong Yangxing, how many of those long-barreled guns, called 'matching guns,' that are imitations of the Japanese 'Kunimo gun' in your firearms battalion?" Huang Taiji asked directly.

Tong Yangxing was taken aback, then respectfully replied, "Your Majesty, more than one hundred 'matchlock guns' have been successfully replicated. The barrel of this gun is five feet long and weighs more than thirty catties. It requires two people to operate, one to carry the frame and the other to fire. The range is longer than that of the musket and the penetrating power is also stronger, but it is cumbersome and slow to load."

"Enough." Huang Taiji nodded. "Bring your men up and deploy them behind the newly built low wall. Aren't the southern barbarians relying on their strong wagon formations and powerful firearms? I'll use these longer-range muskets to target their gunners and arquebusiers across the river! I want to see whether their muskets can fire farther or my muskets can fire more accurately!"

Tong Yangxing's eyes lit up: "Your Majesty is wise! This gun is perfect for long-range sniping! This servant will arrange it immediately!"

Huang Taiji waved him away. Then he said to Fan Wencheng, "Tell the men to continue building the shield carts, but make them even stronger, and add more iron plates to the front. Once the low wall is built, get the guns in place. I will advance step by step, with earthen walls against earthen walls, and firearms against firearms!"

It was dark.

In the warm pavilion of Qianqing Palace, only a few candles were lit, casting a dim yellow light.

Emperor Chongzhen gently placed the urgent report delivered by Huang Degong on the table. He pressed his finger firmly on the words "gunpowder and lead bullets are being consumed in great quantities."

He looked up at Sun Chuanting, who was standing to the side.

“Boya,” Chongzhen began, his voice particularly clear in the quiet of the night, “Huang Degong is doing well in Fuzhou. Right now, the main force of the enemy chieftain is firmly tied down in southern Liaoning.”

He stood up and walked to the huge map. His finger traced the mountains and rivers drawn in western Liaoning, finally stopping at a solitary point on the southern edge of the Gobi Desert—Daningwei.

"His eyes are fixed on Fuzhou," Chongzhen's voice deepened, "I, the Emperor, will have you go and rip out his backside!"

Sun Chuanting's gaze fell on Da Ning Wei, his eyelids twitched, and he immediately understood the emperor's meaning: "Does Your Majesty want to learn from Emperor Wu of Han's method of severing the right arm of the Xiongnu? Taking Da Ning will shake Liaoyang and Shenyang in the east, and cut off the connection between the Tartars and the Mongols in the north!"

“Yes!” Chongzhen turned around, the candlelight illuminating his young yet exceptionally resolute face. “The Chahan tribe has just recovered, and their hearts are not at peace. Su Tai is also unhappy in Guihua City, as it is not the Chahan tribe’s original territory. I have secretly ordered Yuan Chonghuan to escort them to Xuanfu. This time, you don’t necessarily have to take Daming, but you must firmly plant the Chahan tribe’s banner on the grasslands northeast of Yanshan!”

He walked up to Sun Chuanting and lowered his voice: "The most elite cavalry of the Beijing Garrison, and the horse units of Xuanfu and Datong, are all under your command. I don't want you to seize cities; I want you to demonstrate the might of the Ming army in Huang Taiji's backyard!"

Sun Chuanting took a deep breath, knelt on one knee, clasped his hands in salute: "Your subject, Sun Chuanting, obeys the decree! I will certainly not fail Your Majesty's trust! If I cannot make the barbarian chieftain unable to attend to both ends, I will bring my head to see you!"

Emperor Chongzhen personally helped him up, picked up a cup of wine that had been prepared beforehand from the table, and handed it to him: "I am waiting for your good news in the capital!"

Sun Chuanting took the wine cup with both hands, tilted his head back and drank it all in one gulp, then turned around and strode into the darkness outside the hall.

Emperor Chongzhen walked to the window alone and looked southeast, towards the battlefield of Fuzhou, a thousand miles away.

"Huang Taiji," he muttered to himself, a slight, cold smile playing on his lips, "You want to close the gates in Fuzhou? I'll send troops to Daning to beat up your son, Hauge!"

(End of this chapter)