MLMD -Chapter 347 Great Victory

“Yes, Prince, Engetu, who was in charge of the rear guard, was defeated as soon as he clashed with the Ming army. Now they are retreating in this direction!”

“That bastard!” Houge’s eyes flashed with fury. These past few days, his impatience had grown because of his father’s illness. He slammed the porcelain bowl in his hand onto the ground, drew his long sword, and was about to mount his horse.

Seeing Houge so enraged, Dorgon, who was slowly sipping a bowl of meat soup, only raised an eyelid and said nothing. Dodo, sitting beside him, smirked slightly but did not intervene.

“Stop!” an old voice shouted.

Houge froze mid-action and glared at Daishan. “Grand Beile, are you still protecting those cowards? Don’t block me! I want to kill that useless wretch!”

“I’m not protecting them.” Daishan’s beard trembled slightly. “Houge, with your father’s life uncertain, and given your age, can you not think before acting? Our army has just suffered defeat. Now is the time we must unite and overcome difficulties together. Yet you want to kill someone just to vent your anger—have you even considered the consequences?”

“Consequences?” Houge shouted, his eyes red. “What consequences could there be? These lackeys have already been scared out of their wits by the Ming dogs. They don’t even have the courage to fight and have scattered. What good are these slaves even for?”

Houge’s temperament was very similar to Dodo’s: brutal and fierce. But Dodo had luck, and a caring elder brother; whenever he caused trouble, Dorgon would cover for him. Houge had no such fortune. As a senior prince, he had grown up accompanying his father on campaigns across the land. Emperor Huang Taiji had placed great expectations on him, which in turn weighed heavily on him. In recent years, after repeatedly being defeated by Yue Yang, and now with his main supporter incapacitated by illness, Houge’s mind was on the verge of collapse. All of this erupted now.

Daishan sighed deeply, shaking his head in disappointment at Houge, whose words had become incoherent. This son, so heavily relied upon by Huang Taiji, fell far short of his father’s capabilities. If he had even half of Huang Taiji’s skill, he would never have spoken such foolishness.

Though Daishan did not want to intervene, he could not bear to see Houge offend all the Mongol princes. He stepped closer and said sternly, “If you don’t want to anger all the Mongol chieftains and princes, you’d better shut your mouth. Otherwise, I can guarantee that you will never have the chance to inherit your father’s throne!”

Daishan’s words were like a bucket of cold water poured over Houge’s heated brain, calming him. He suddenly remembered: the Qing’s relationship with the Mongol tribes had grown ever closer. With Huang Taiji’s life hanging by a thread, Mongol support was essential for him to inherit power smoothly. If he sought revenge against Engetu now, he would make enemies of all Mongol tribes.

Looking around, Houge saw several Mongol leaders and princes staring at him with displeasure. Cold sweat ran down his forehead. Gratefully, he glanced at Daishan, slowly returned to his seat, and said nothing more.

Seeing Houge calm down, Dorgon’s eyes showed a hint of disappointment. Had Daishan not intervened, and had Houge killed a few fleeing Mongols—or even Engetu—the situation would have escalated. The already anxious Mongol leaders would not have let it go easily.

“Such a pity,” Dodo murmured beside him.

Daishan looked at Dorgon meaningfully and said, “Fourteenth, the Ming army will be here soon. What should we do?”

Dorgon set down his bowl and wiped his mouth. Calmly, he said, “What else? Send more troops to resist. But this time, we must send a real warrior—someone like Engetu will not do.”

Daishan’s expression darkened. Sending Engetu to hold the rear had been his suggestion, but Engetu had failed after only a few skirmishes.

Just then, Yueto stepped forward. “Father, Prince Heshou, let me handle the rear guard. Give me five thousand elite troops, and I will not let the Ming forces cross even a single step.”

“You…”

Everyone was surprised. Being in charge of the rear guard had always been a grueling and dangerous task. Yueto, as Daishan’s eldest son and a man of high status, volunteering for it was unexpected.

Seeing the puzzled looks, Yueto calmly said, “Father, this mission to cover the army’s rear concerns the life and death of our troops. I cannot trust anyone else to do it.”

Daishan sighed lightly and finally agreed. He assigned Yueto five thousand elite cavalry of the Red Banner, gave him some instructions, and let him leave.

Yueto quickly led his troops to the rear and soon encountered Wu Chengfeng’s cavalry. A fierce battle erupted, and the once-quiet grasslands were thrown into chaos.

Soon, a messenger reported to Yue Yang, who was leading the main army from behind: “My Lord, General Wu reports that the Tartars have sent forces to resist him again, led by General Yang Wei and Yueto. They are engaged in intense combat!”

“Looks like the Tartars are really anxious, even Yueto is on the field.” Yue Yang was surprised. After thinking, he said, “Tell Wu Chengfeng not to rush and not to fight to the death. Wait for the main army.”

Yue Yang knew Wu Chengfeng’s temper. If he fought rashly, both sides could suffer heavy losses—a scenario Yue Yang wanted to avoid.

Having an army with real-time communication proved its worth. Yue Yang’s order reached Wu Chengfeng mid-battle, and the excited commander quickly directed his troops to retreat while continuing to fight. Yueto, not intending to engage fully with the Ming forces, also withdrew toward the Qing main army.

Two hours later, when Yue Yang’s main force arrived, they found Wu Chengfeng tending to the wounded. Yue Yang asked immediately, “What are the casualties?”

Wu Chengfeng replied calmly, “My lord, over thirty of our men have fallen, and more than a hundred are wounded.”

Yue Yang frowned. “That many?”

Wu Chengfeng quickly explained, “My lord, the Tartars’ casualties were several times ours. Thanks to the protective armor you provided, our losses were greatly reduced.”

“Still, their forces outnumber ours several times over. We can’t just fight them head-on!” Yue Yang muttered. Though the arquebusiers were deadly in formation, they were too slow to maneuver. Even marching desperately, they could cover only seventy or eighty miles in a day across open grasslands; on narrow official roads inland, it would be even slower.

Looking at the soldiers’ heavy armor, Yue Yang thought, If only we could replace all the armor with protective vests, their mobility would improve greatly.

Pushing forward day by day, with Wu Chengfeng harassing the enemy cavalry, Yue Yang finally reached Yueto’s rear guard by the third day at noon.

Yueto was helpless. The Qing army was known for mobility, but its sheer size—seventy to eighty thousand—made movement slow. The Ming army, with enough mules and horses, had kept close. Their cavalry was cunning, never seeking decisive battle but constantly harassing with bows and crossbows, aiming only to slow Qing’s march. Now, the main army had finally caught up. Yueto gritted his teeth and shouted: “Warriors of the Great Qing, follow me! Kill!”

The thundering hooves charged toward the Ming army.

When Yueto’s cavalry arrived, the Ming army had already formed ranks. With a roar of gunfire, many Qing riders fell from their horses.

Seeing the fallen cavalry, Yueto sighed and ordered a retreat—but by then, Ming cavalry disguised under their own banners had surrounded them.

Yueto, clever as he was, knew he had been trapped. He ordered a withdrawal, but the prepared Ming army quickly encircled them. Yue Yang’s arquebusiers joined in, forming a siege.

Gunfire, screams, and horse neighs filled the battlefield. After half an hour of fierce fighting, Yueto and the remaining hundred cavalry were surrounded in the center of the Ming army.

A loud voice rang out: “Yueto, my lord says you’re brave. Surrender now, and we promise to spare your life!”

Yueto looked around calmly, seeing the dense Ming forces, and laughed. “I, Yueto, am a Beile of the Great Qing! How could I surrender to a lowly Ming dog! Tell Yue Yang, if he surrenders immediately, I will plead with the Khan to grant him riches and honor!”

His words enraged the Ming soldiers.

Hu Lao San shouted, “The Tartars deserve death! My lord, let me capture him alive and deal with him as you see fit!”

“No need,” Yue Yang shook his head. “Yueto has made up his mind. He will not surrender. Let us grant him his wish.”

As he spoke, Yueto led his remaining hundred cavalry to charge the right flank. Ahead of him, nearly a thousand Ming cavalry aimed crossbows and fired hundreds of arrows, quickly overwhelming Yueto and his men.

In this battle, Yue Yang annihilated Yueto’s rear guard. With the Qing army unable to mount effective resistance, Yue Yang led over twenty thousand troops, using division and attrition to eliminate more than thirty thousand men. By the time the Qing retreated to Shengjing, the original seventy to eighty thousand forces had dwindled to less than fifty thousand. Yue Yang, not seeking glory, withdrew his army when still over a hundred miles from Shengjing.

In 1639, the tenth year of Chongzhen, mid-May, news of Yue Yang’s decisive victory spread explosively across the Ming. Loyal and Brave Marquis Yue Yang defeated the Qing in the field, annihilating nearly one hundred thousand troops, killing the generals Gushan Beile and Yang Wei Da General Yueto. The Tartar chief Huang Taiji was defeated, wounded, and died on the return journey. The news shocked the entire realm.

In Datong, Yue Yang’s nominal superior, Governor Hong Chengchou, locked himself in his study all day. In distant Hubei, Lu Xiangsheng, busy suppressing bandits, silently twirled his beard. The Ming bureaucracy was collectively stunned into silence.

Only the Daming Times in Jinling reported extensively. Over six months, it spread slowly northward, reaching Jiangnan. Its people-oriented, inclusive style won over many citizens and dissatisfied scholars. Though some Donglin Party and Fuxingshe members resisted, the paper spread steadily. Thus, although the Ming court remained silent, the news reached all levels of society.

“The Ming is about to change!”

For days, the capital buzzed with discussion. Being the political center, the city’s citizens always debated current affairs, and news spread rapidly among scholars.

In a teahouse, a young scholar in a blue robe angrily said, “Corrupt officials dominate, warlords run rampant. Yue Zhenghong, a Ming official, disobeys imperial orders and leads troops beyond the borders. His crime should be punished!”

“Brother Hou, you are mistaken!” another scholar countered. “The Loyal and Brave Marquis is a pillar of the state. That he fought the enemy shows his loyalty. Meanwhile, our ministers craft beautiful words and essays that serve neither country nor people. Despite being a warlord in name, Yue collects displaced people, protects civilians, pays taxes to the court, drills soldiers, and kills the enemy. Who does it better?”

This year’s provincial examinations were ongoing. Scholars had arrived early in the capital and discussed the news extensively. Among them, a scholar from Jinling, Hou Fangyu, criticized Yue Yang.

Hou Fangyu’s resentment ran deep. Initially merely dissatisfied, he became enraged when Yue Yang, founding the Daming Times in Jinling, attacked the Donglin Party. In response, they started the Ming Bao, but its rigid, impractical format lost the battle of influence. Hou Fangyu, as a key Donglin figure representing gentry and merchants, hated Yue Yang deeply.

Seeing scholars defend Yue Yang, Hou Fangyu’s jealousy flared. Sneering, he said: “This is Yue Zhenghong’s cunning. Known for hypocrisy, he may nominally protect civilians and pay some taxes, but did he have orders from the Ministry of War or the Emperor for this expedition? At best, he disobeys; at worst, he rebels. Even a talented general who defies the court is of no use. Have you forgotten the warlord disasters of Tang? A prosperous Tang was nearly ruined by ambitious generals like An Lushan. Without Guo Ziyi, the empire would have fallen to villains!”

The teahouse fell silent. Even scholars inclined to support Yue Yang dared not speak. This was not a matter of right or wrong but class allegiance.

Yue Yang was a military man, a warlord; all present were scholars. Regardless of personal grievances, they united in opposition to generals. This stance had developed over more than a century. Any scholar who betrayed it became an enemy of the literary establishment and faced scorn. Hou Fangyu’s invocation of the warlord-warlord label immediately silenced the teahouse, even dissenters remaining quiet.

As Hou Fangyu looked around smugly, a voice interrupted:

“Brother Hou, you keep accusing the Loyal and Brave Marquis of being a warlord and rebel. Did he steal your wife or burn your house to make you hate him so?”