Chapter 71: Tragic (Merry Christmas)

  The torrential rain stopped and the sky brightened slightly, as if it were just a brief moment. The sky turned dark again in an instant, like night, and ominous shadows reappeared. With a loud clap of thunder right above my head, iron-bean-sized raindrops poured down again.

  The Qing army's detour attack at Yagou had not yet opened up a good road when it was disrupted by a rainstorm. Xian Guoan became enraged and ordered the construction to continue in the rain, refusing to retreat.

  The chill and damp air penetrated to the bone, underfoot was either a soft layer of rot or sticky mud that could stick shoes, heavy rain pounded on the body like bullets, and the auxiliary soldiers worked in this raging storm, no less than waging another war. At first, it was just sporadic people falling down, but as time went on, more and more fell, and those who fell into the muddy ground couldn't get up again.

  As time went on, people became numb. There was no pity for those who fell, and the living had no right to pity either. For the dead, the living were powerless to bury them, nor did they need to be buried. They would either take off the shoes of the dead or strip off their clothes, without hesitation, in order to survive a little longer.

  "Damn the rain!" A Qing soldier suddenly cursed, then fell down and never got up again.

  Not far away, Zhang Yong heard it, his face expressionless, but he secretly sighed in his heart. The auxiliary army was originally able to be consumed like this, but he still lacked confidence in victory. Xian Guoan's main force had arrived, and the momentum was sufficient, but the environment was still so harsh. Moreover, Xian Guoan vetoed his proposal to divide the troops and attack from the side, believing that breaking through from the front was the only way to win, and attacking from the side would not only disperse the troops, but if they were ambushed and defeated again, the morale of the soldiers would be greatly damaged.

  The morale was about to collapse, and Zhang Yong sighed. To borrow the power of heaven and earth to defend against the enemy, only the famous generals of the past could do it, but compared to the commander-in-chief of the Ming army in front of him, he and Xian Guoan were far inferior! Was it really King Jin Li Dingguo who was commanding? Zhang Yong furrowed his brow, and his fear grew heavier. Xian Guoan, even if Li Dingguo had killed your former master Kong Youde in Guilin, you couldn't lose your mind because of hatred, could you?

  Zhang Yong only suggested that the commander of the opposing side might be the fake Jin king Li Dingguo, but unexpectedly Xian Guoan flew into a rage and wanted to break through the enemy's defenses at all costs. In his opinion, this was because Li Dingguo had killed Xian Guoan's former master Kong Youde in Guilin, but he didn't know that there were other reasons behind it.

  In fact, following Xian Guoan's main force was also a messenger from Kunming, a friend of Xian Guoan who informed him that the imperial court had issued an edict to Lin Tianying, the governor of Yunnan, stating: "Xian Guoan has poisoned the land of Yunnan, robbed and plundered, his crimes are serious, let the princes, nobles and ministers quickly investigate and report back."

  Although Xian Guoan was not punished for this in history, he still held the title of General of Conquering Barbarians and garrisoned Guangxi. However, at this time, it made Xian Guoan feel uneasy. If he failed this time or returned without merit, Xian Guoan feared that the imperial court would take advantage of this to punish him severely. Therefore, in order to redeem himself by achieving a meritorious deed, he relied on the main force arriving later and decided to launch a fierce attack on Nan Zhai Gong Fang.

  The subsequent battle process was indeed as Zhang Yong thought, and it did not go smoothly, and could even be described as cruelly abnormal, terrifying and desperate.

  In traditional concepts, close combat is the most brutal, but the battle of Nanjing was purely a consumption war, consuming time in confrontation, consuming fighting will, and consuming fresh lives. The Qing army crawled up like ants, with crossbow arrows, stones, and spears falling down like raindrops, just like the grass boat borrowing arrows, except that what was pierced through was not bundles of straw, but hundreds and thousands of living people with surging blood.

  It was raining from the sky, and there wasn't a single dry spot on my body. The mountain was steep and the terrain was unfavorable. The Ming army was at a high vantage point, stubbornly resisting. After three days of attacks, the slope was littered with the corpses of Qing soldiers. There were Han soldiers, Gansu Green Camp soldiers, and even auxiliary soldiers who had been used as cannon fodder. In the brief intervals when the rain stopped, gunpowder landmines would explode, creating a bloody mist, and severed limbs and arms would fly through the air.

  Some of the corpses began to rot and stink, with white maggots crawling all over them. Along the roots of the trees, along the grass stems, and along the leaves, the rainwater flowed down, carrying a deep, dark red color - that blood was not something that could be washed clean by the rain. The blood had merged with the mountain to become one entity, seeping deeply into the soil, stones, and grass, growing into the trees, making the mountain seem like a giant blood-soaked rice ball.

  The rain washed away all sorts of filth into the streams, and the Qing army no longer dared to drink from them. But the plague stretched out its evil hand, slowly throttling the Qing army's throat.

  It's already the fifth day, and in the fine rain, the crazy attack has begun again. The Han army and the Gansu Green Camp, under the personal command of Zhang Yong and Xian Guoan, took turns launching attacks. At all levels, officials supervised the battle, and the soldiers were forced to advance, like a group of prisoners with ashen faces, trampling on rotting corpses, maggots, and blood water, steeling themselves to charge up the mountain.

  The muddy slope was as slippery as if it had been oiled, and the Qing army had to be careful not to slip and fall while also guarding against incoming crossbow arrows and stones, truly facing enemies on two fronts, with extreme hardship.

  The trenches were almost filled with corpses, and the deer sheds had all been knocked down. Only the wooden stakes had been reinforced several times during the battle, and they still served as an obstacle. However, such a fierce battle still left Zhu Yongxing stunned. He had already called up the reserve troops to take turns resting with the front-line troops in order to cope with the Qing army's crazy attacks.

  The musketeers under the thatched shed fired a volley, white smoke rose and spread, followed by a burst of mournful cries. One round, two rounds, three rounds, four rounds, five rounds, the gunfire stopped for a moment, and after the white smoke, the enemy's shadow could no longer be seen. The Ming army's long spear battalion formed up and rushed forward, surging near the stockade.

  The smoke had not yet dispersed, and Zhu Yongxing saw several long guns thrusting through the gaps in the fence, and the Qing army, driven to lose their sanity, finally came up.

  "Kill!" The Ming army's long spear soldiers let out a roar, thrusting their spears forward. The sound of the spear tips entering flesh was like "puchi puchi puchi", and the mournful cries instantly pierced the eardrums.

  The long guns fired, and the soldiers of both sides opened fire across the fence. The white smoke dispersed, and Zhu Yongxing saw a dense crowd of Qing troops, with complex eyes flashing with fear, despair, and madness. One fell down, and another followed, trampling on the bodies of their companions, regardless of whether they were dead or injured, only to thrust the weapons in their hands forward.

  Countless stones flew out from behind the Ming army's formation, breaking through the rain curtain, crossing over the fence, and smashing onto the Qing army's heads. Batch after batch, blocking the continuity of the Qing army's attacking troops. The corpses in front of the fence continued to pile up, and the Qing army was still pouring in, trampling on the layers of piled-up corpses, desperately advancing forward.