MLMD -Chapter 236 Who Will Stay Behind

Yue Yang patiently continued his efforts to win over the minds of the various consorts and noblewomen of the Chahar, while more than ten miles away, Dorgon, Yueto, and the others were far from idle.

Haoge, slurring his words, said to Dorgon, “Fourteenth… Uncle, staying here all the time… it’s… it’s not really proper. Our provisions will only last a little over ten days. If we don’t… take the Chahar tribe soon, we’ll run out of food.”

Dorgon remained silent. He was sitting on the ground with Haoge and Yueto, a low table before them holding a pot of wine and a plate of roasted lamb. Although military regulations forbade drinking, for the privileged class such rules held little sway.

Since there was no plan for battle that day, the three of them had already drunk several cups. Dorgon and Yueto drank moderately, staying sober, but Haoge had no such restraint; he had downed several pots of wine since morning and was naturally quite drunk.

Dorgon had a peculiar trait when drinking: his face never flushed; instead, it grew increasingly pale. Squinting at the harsh sunlight outside the tent, he finally spoke, “It’s no longer realistic to try to destroy the Chahar tribe with fewer than ten thousand men. Unless the Khan sends reinforcements, or even brings cannons, it’s impossible.”

“Bring cannons?” Yueto clicked his tongue, burped, and shook his head. “Getting cannons is not easy. Currently, our Later Jin only has a dozen or so captured Ming red-coat cannons and a few small cannons that Kong Youde brought when he joined us. Forget the small ones—the big red-coat cannons weigh three to four thousand jin each. Transporting them here is no small feat.”

At these words, all three felt an unspoken frustration. Dorgon, Yueto, and Haoge were among the best commanders in the Later Jin, yet here they were all constrained by a single Ming general. How humiliating that would be if word got out.

Suddenly, Yueto slammed his cup onto the table with a loud “smack!” spilling wine everywhere. He shouted, “Hmph! I once advised the Khan that we should manufacture firearms and establish our own artillery corps. But everyone dismissed it, saying I was just making excuses for my failures in Hunyuan Prefecture! They claimed mounted archery is our ancestors’ treasure, and that to lose it would be a betrayal of our forebears. What utter nonsense!

We should bring all those fools here and show them how powerful firearms truly are, instead of letting them rot in uselessness after a single use!”

It seemed Yueto had been holding these words in for a long time, and tonight, fueled by wine, he finally let it all out. Haoge, however, listened with a flushed face—he had been one of the fiercest opponents of creating the Jurchen artillery corps.

Dorgon reached for another cup of wine, placing it in front of Yueto, and said quietly, “Yueto, don’t worry. I’ve heard that the Khan plans to divide the Han army banner into two: Geng Jingzhong’s regular white banner and Shang Kexi’s bordered white banner. Shang Kexi’s forces will even be reorganized into an artillery corps. It seems the Khan has realized the power of firearms. Wait a little longer, and we too will have our own artillery corps.”

“The Han army banners will expand?” Yueto paused, puzzled. “Does the Khan trust Shang Kexi so much? Isn’t he afraid he might turn against us?”

“That’s why the Khan has sent Wu Keshan as the gushan ejen of the Han banners, overseeing all the Han troops,” Dorgon continued.

“Wu Keshan…” Yueto murmured, turning his newly filled cup in his hands without speaking.

Haoge, slurring his words, scoffed, “Wu Keshan is hardly reliable. Everyone knows his father Zhai Sang has been cozying up to Yue Yang. In the past two years, the Khorchin tribe has grown wealthy; even the lowly herders now wear cotton clothes and boots, stockpile grain, all thanks to licking Yue Yang’s boots. I suggested we show the Khorchin some force, but the Khan ignored me. He’ll regret it eventually!”

Hearing Haoge, both Dorgon and Yueto simultaneously glared at him and shouted, “Shut up!”

After a moment, Yueto sighed and said, “I may have underestimated Yue Yang. He’s quietly inserted a stake right under our noses, and now he’s about to place a second one. Fourteenth Uncle, haven’t you noticed?”

Dorgon smiled bitterly. “Notice? Even if I have, what can I do? Should I report to the Khan to eradicate the Khorchin tribe? Everyone knows the Khorchin are our most loyal allies. Even the Khan has two Khorchin consorts. If we strike them, what would the other Mongol tribes think? Would it cause panic? The Khorchin have done nothing against us; they only trade grain, salt, and tea bricks with the Han. If we suppress them, all Mongol tribes might rebel.”

Even Haoge fell silent. Despite the Later Jin’s strength these past years, the Mongols remained a vast people, with millions of herders across dozens of tribes. Should they all rise up, decades of Nurhaci’s and Huang Taiji’s work with the Mongols would be wasted.

Finally, Haoge asked quietly, “Fourteenth Uncle, Yueto, enough talk. I just want to ask—how do we deal with the current situation?”

Dorgon pondered, then said bitterly, “What else can we do? For now, we should report the situation honestly to the Khan and let him decide. My personal opinion: without adequate firearms and artillery, or at least three times the enemy’s manpower, it’s best not to fight Yue Yang.”

“I agree with Fourteenth Uncle!” Yueto nodded.

“And you, Haoge?” Dorgon glanced at him.

“Whatever you all say, I have no objections!” Haoge shouted, grabbing the wine pot, tossing off the lid, and gulping it down.

Meanwhile, Yue Yang’s days had been quite comfortable. With the Later Jin army holed up and inactive, he enjoyed leisure. By day, he drilled his soldiers, inspected Chahar territories, and cultivated relationships with the tribe’s consorts and nobles—using threats or incentives to bind them to his control. By night, he retreated to a small tent to enjoy the attentions of a certain beautiful woman.

Namuzhong fully understood that her fate was deeply intertwined with this man and therefore did not hide her feelings. A mature, attractive woman pouring her passion into a man was a formidable force, and Yue Yang was enjoying such bliss.

Under the dim oil lamp, soft, plaintive moans echoed through the night. The sound was faint but seductive. Eventually, after a series of gentle whispers, everything returned to calm.

Yue Yang lay on the small bed, holding Namuzhong’s fragrant, supple body. Her expression was somewhere between laughter and tears; her pale skin flushed a delicate pink, her plump form trembling like willows in the wind. They said nothing, just held each other quietly. After a while, Yue Yang pulled the covers over them, carefully tucking them in against the draft.

Namuzhong did not resist. She sighed softly, nestled in her lover’s arms. In recent days, she found herself increasingly enamored with this man, seven or eight years her junior, from whom she experienced unprecedented passion and joy. He was strong, considerate, gentle yet commanding—captivating in every way.

“Why sigh? Do you have worries?” Yue Yang’s gentle voice sounded near her ear.

She shifted to a more comfortable position, resting her head on his arm, tracing circles on his chest with her slender fingers. “I was thinking… if only you could stay by my side forever.”

“Ha… well…” Yue Yang chuckled dryly; he had lost count of how many times she had said this since they met.

“Never mind. I know it’s impossible,” she said, giving him a resentful look.

“Namuzhong, you have your tribe, and I have my duties. It will be hard for us to be together long-term,” Yue Yang sighed. “I know you’re with me partly to protect the tribe.”

Hearing this, she struggled, trying to sit up. “Yes… but I—”

“You don’t need to say anything. I understand,” he reassured, holding her close. “I know your difficulties, and I blame you for nothing. But you must understand, we each have responsibilities. You must maintain Chahar unity and manage the scheming consorts. We are forced to do things we may not wish to. But always know, now and in the future, I am your strongest support. Whatever you need—grain, salt, tea, clothing—I will provide if I can. Do you understand?”

“Mm… I understand… I understand…”

Namuzhong rested in his arms, letting her tears flow silently. She finally felt the happiness of having a strong man to rely on. Yue Yang held her close, enjoying this rare warmth.

Over the next ten days, Namuzhong opened her heart completely, bringing Yue Yang unprecedented joy. Neither spoke of the future, knowing such days were fleeting.

One day, a report came: the Later Jin army was withdrawing. The Chahar erupted in cheers; the dark cloud over them had lifted. Yet Namuzhong could not feel joy. The army’s retreat meant her little man would leave. She wondered if she could return to her old life without the nightly comfort of a strong arm, and a sharp ache filled her heart.

Inside the Ming army tent, Yue Yang convened a meeting of his officers. Seeing their bright faces, he smiled. “What’s this cheerfulness? Are you all eager to go home?”

The men laughed.

“But don’t rejoice too soon. We can’t simply leave; if the Jurchens strike back, all our efforts will have been for nothing. So we’ll leave some troops behind. I’ve planned a rotation system: the three thousand soldiers stationed here will receive double pay, with yearly rotations, so no one stays too long in one place.”

The officers quietly relaxed; this was much better—they would not be stuck in this harsh land indefinitely.

Yue Yang’s most trusted subordinate, Shunbao, asked, “Sir, who will be left to garrison here?”

Yue Yang smiled at him, “Since you asked first, how about you lead the troops?”

Shunbao’s face darkened; he hadn’t expected a simple question to land him such a hard assignment.

“Well… if the master says so… I will obey.”

Yue Yang laughed. “You’re pretending to be reluctant. If you stay, there’ll be no one guarding Yingzhou Prefecture. Besides, don’t you have a marriage to attend? How could you court a bride while stationed here? I don’t want complaints later.”

Everyone laughed, especially Wu Chengfeng, who laughed uproariously.

Finally, Yue Yang said, “Since this is a difficult task, I won’t assign it by name. Who volunteers?”

The men hesitated; it was a dangerous, unpleasant post. Though Yue Yang promised double pay, the garrison would be responsible for Chahar security. The Later Jin could return at any time, leading to bloody combat. And this land was harsh: winter freezing, summer scorching, nothing but grass and livestock.

Seeing their hesitation, Yue Yang frowned. “No one willing to volunteer? Then I’ll have to appoint personally.”

Just as he spoke, a man stepped forward. “Sir, I volunteer to share your burden!”

Yue Yang looked closely and was slightly surprised—it was Chu Di, the former deputy commander of Hunyuan Prefecture who had joined him last year.

“Is it you? Are you sure you want to stay? This place is far harsher than Hunyuan Prefecture,” Yue Yang asked.

Chu Di’s gaze was firm. “Sir, I have made up my mind. I am willing to share your burden and defend the country!”

“Hmm… old Chu hasn’t shown such initiative before. Did he take something today?” Feng Xiaoming wondered silently. Many shared his thoughts; Chu Di was not known for endurance, yet today he was unusually eager.

Seeing his determination, Yue Yang said helplessly, “Very well. Since Chu Qian is so devoted, I will not refuse. I hereby temporarily appoint you Chahar Defense Officer, commanding two thousand infantry and one thousand cavalry here. After one year, I will petition the court to further reward you.”

“Thank you, Sir!” Chu Di rejoiced and bowed to Yue Yang.

“Ah…”

The men collectively gasped. No wonder he was so eager—the true aim was clear: stay a year, get promoted two ranks. This was a lucrative assignment.