coobybook Chapter 1143 The Battle for National Destiny (End)
Chapter 1143 The Battle for National Destiny (End)
Outside Chuimacheng, the snowfield had been stained a murky ochre red.
As the commotion gradually subsided, the Qing army soldiers began to clean up the battlefield and treat the wounded.
Auxiliary soldiers carrying makeshift stretchers weaved through piles of corpses and tattered flags, distinguishing between their comrades who were still breathing and the dead.
Weapons were being confiscated, stray warhorses were being led away, heads and prisoners were being counted... everything was proceeding in an orderly manner.
As for the corpses of the Tibetan soldiers?
The defeated are not entitled to clean up the battlefield first; their bodies can only be left in the wild until the Qing army has cleaned up the area and then people will be sent to collect them.
Wang Sanchun stood atop the city gate tower, the cold wind whipping his blood-stained cloak.
The fierce look on his face had long since faded, leaving only a deep sense of solemnity.
His gaze followed the figures being carried in and out below, his face showing no trace of triumph.
Each person on a stretcher represents the shattering of a family; the price of victory is always so heavy.
"General."
Lieutenant Zhao Duo approached with a briefing in hand, his voice somewhat hoarse.
"Our initial casualties have been tallied: 627 dead, 541 seriously wounded, and about 1,800 lightly wounded. Most of the casualties were concentrated in the front-line musketeers and the first few infantry battalions to engage the enemy."
Wang Sanchun listened silently. The number was less than he had expected, but each number represented a living human life.
Although it's true that people die in war, Wang Sanchun still felt heartbroken, as many of these people were key members of the Qing Army.
He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, gazing at the ravaged battlefield outside the city: "Where are the Tibetans?"
A hint of excitement flashed across Zhao Duo's face: "According to the counts of heads, prisoners, and corpses on the battlefield reported by each camp, the Tibetan army has left approximately 23,000 to 25,000 corpses in this battle, among which there are no fewer than 4,000 identifiable fragments of Gui warrior armor!"
"About six thousand prisoners were captured, mostly slave soldiers and lightly wounded. The number of those who fled and escaped was countless, but seven or eight out of ten of their elite vanguard were lost!"
Twenty-five thousand to six hundred—that's an extremely skewed exchange ratio.
The reason for such a large gap is that the Tibetan army was basically being beaten on one side.
In His Majesty's words, range is the key to victory.
Wang Sanchun showed little joy, only nodding slightly: "Understood."
Seeing his calm reaction, Zhao Duo couldn't help but say, "General, this is a great victory! We have killed more than 20,000 enemy soldiers, including several thousand of their elite troops. Lu Dongzan's forces have probably been wiped out by a significant portion. This is enough to shake the plateau!"
Wang Sanchun turned his head and saw the lingering resentment in Zhao Duo's eyes.
This guy was still holding a grudge and didn't send his army out to achieve a complete victory.
He couldn't help but shake his head: "Lu Dongzan claims to have an army of 300,000, with at least 100,000 as his main force. I only wiped out 20,000 or 30,000 of his troops today. Is that enough to seriously damage him?"
Zhao Duo was slightly taken aback.
Wang Sanchun continued, “The real battlefield is not a chessboard exercise, much less like what is described in storytelling, where you and I each lead more than 100,000 troops, spread out our formations, and charge at each other to the end.”
"In today's battle, Lu Dongzan first used slave soldiers to probe, then used cavalry to flank, and finally committed his main force. This was a phased approach to the battle."
"Although we won, we only defeated the initial force he deployed. His central army still has at least tens of thousands of fresh troops that have not yet been mobilized."
He paused, then continued, "The greatest significance of this battle is to eliminate 20,000 to 30,000 enemy troops, rendering them incapable of organizing an attack of this scale in the short term."
"Calling it a great victory is indeed fitting, but to think that we can defeat Lu Dongzan in one fell swoop... that would be underestimating the enemy."
The excitement on Zhao Duo's face gradually faded, and he became thoughtful.
He had been following Wang Sanchun for some time and knew that this general, though seemingly rough and unrefined, was actually extremely meticulous.
Especially after gaining experience alongside His Majesty and Commander Yang, his insight has become increasingly astute.
Wang Sanchun looked down at the soldiers who were retreating one after another and sighed softly.
He used to be the one being told these things, but now it's his turn to lecture others.
This shows that there are still too few generals in the Qing army who truly understand large-scale military operations.
The Qing army is not lacking in fierce generals, but it lacks commanders.
"Most of what I know is the result of His Majesty's repeated instructions, fighting several tough battles with His Majesty, and later taking orders under General Yang."
"Don't be impatient. Study military books carefully so that you can take up the banner in the future."
Zhao Duo naturally understood that Wang Sanchun was giving him a hint, and hurriedly cupped his hands in greeting: "This humble general understands, thank you for your guidance, Duke."
Wang Sanchun said no more, raised his head to look at the outline of the mountains in the southwest, which were tinged with a bluish-black hue by the twilight, and a trace of worry appeared in his eyes:
"I wonder where His Majesty is now."
. . . . . .
Under the same twilight, another army was marching in silence.
Here, the snowfields on the edge of the plateau are gone, and the terrain gradually lowers, presenting a landscape of alternating Gobi Desert and barren mountains.
The cold wind was still biting, but it had lost its bone-chilling coldness and gained a bit more dryness and roughness.
Li Che rode on Black Wind's back at the very front of the group, his face showing the dust and weariness of a long march.
His gaze remained sharp, constantly scanning the terrain in front of him and to both sides.
Behind them were 30,000 elite Qing troops, who were also lightly armed, carrying only necessary provisions, gunpowder, and arrows on packhorses.
Just then, a group of about twenty scouts emerged from behind a wind-eroded hill and galloped rapidly toward our group from the side.
The knights' sabers were still sheathed, their blades stained with fresh blood that had not yet been wiped away.
Li Che's gaze fell on the bloodstains, his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly for a moment, then relaxed and returned to calm.
He knew perfectly well what the scouts had just done; it was his own order.
As a large army ventures deep behind enemy lines, it is impossible for them to take unpaved routes, and the journey along the way is not entirely through desolate and uninhabited areas.
Occasionally, you might encounter small groups of Tibetan herders, scattered caravans, or small settlements relying on water sources.
In normal marching, these non-combat personnel only need to be dispersed or monitored.
However, this operation was a surprise attack, and the Qing army's whereabouts must not be revealed.
Any eyewitness could have become a messenger for the Tibetan army, leading to the demise of these 30,000 isolated troops.
Therefore, the fate of those people is predictable.
I can only eliminate all possible informants, leaving no survivors.
Li Che was not heartless; he could imagine the shock and despair on the faces of those herders when faced with sudden death.
He could even faintly hear weeping in the wind, which didn't seem like a hallucination.
For these people, this was undoubtedly an undeserved disaster.
As someone from another era, this necessary evil directed at ordinary people always weighed heavily on his heart.
However, his gaze remained firm.
Compassion and ruthlessness are not contradictory.
He pitied the lives of those who were needlessly swept up in the torrent of war, and he pitied the cruel choices that the world forced upon them.
But he did not regret issuing such an order.
Because on his scales, the lives of 30,000 loyal soldiers were far more important than the civilians of the enemy country that had to be eliminated along the way.
A kind heart cannot command an army, and righteousness cannot manage finances. This principle was ingrained in him from the very first time he led an army.
“Your Majesty.” A gentle yet aged voice sounded from the side.
Xu Jiezi spurred his horse and caught up, riding alongside Li Che.
The old Taoist priest's face was covered with a layer of dust, but his eyes remained clear and wise.
Li Che originally thought that since Xu Jiezi was too old, he should stay in Chuimacheng, but Xu Jiezi insisted on coming along, saying that this was a good time for cultivation.
However, seeing how energetic the old man looked, even more relaxed than himself, Li Che felt relieved.
Xu Jiezi pointed to a valley with a relatively flat outline ahead and said, "The scouts ahead report that after another thirty li, we will reach the territory of Ganzhou. We have entered the nomadic area of the Yellow-Headed Uyghurs."
Li Che pulled himself out of his jumbled thoughts and turned his gaze to the direction Xu Jiezi was pointing.
Ganzhou, a strategic point on the Hexi Corridor and an important town on the Silk Road, is still nominally under the control of the Tubo Kingdom, but its actual control has been greatly weakened due to internal strife within Tubo.
The Yellow-Headed Uyghurs, active in this region, were an important local force. They had complex relations with Tibet and the kingdoms of Khotan further west, and their attitude towards Daqing to the east was even more ambiguous.
Li Che's lips curled into an enigmatic smile: "Lu Dongzan probably thought that the army he encountered in Chuima City was our entire main force, and that our rear in the Western Regions was as secure as Mount Tai, right?"
Xu Jiezi stroked his beard and said, "His Majesty's divine troops have descended from the heavens; they will surely receive a great surprise."
"However, the Yellow-headed Uyghurs have always been indecisive. Our army's sudden appearance in their territory requires careful consideration. We must decide whether to win them over or fight them as soon as possible."
Li Che nodded.
Yellow-headed Uyghurs... Ganzhou Uyghurs...
Li Che quickly recalled the intelligence about this force: the Yellow-headed Uyghurs were entrenched in the western section of the Hexi Corridor, with the Ganzhou Oasis as their core.
They are by no means law-abiding border tribes, much less reliable allies.
In my memory, during the heyday of the previous dynasty, the Four Garrisons of Anxi were established to manage the Western Regions.
At that time, the previous dynasty was also very powerful. The Yellow-headed Uyghurs once sent envoys to the court, offering docile tribute horses as a sign of submission, in exchange for trade benefits and the court's investiture and protection.
However, when the Great Huan Dynasty was in turmoil and its national strength declined, these submissive Uyghur leaders changed their tune faster than the weather on the plateau.
They abandoned their former masters without hesitation and sided with the rising power of Tibet.
Moreover, in order to pledge their allegiance to their new master, they even took the initiative to lead the way and participated in the encirclement and massacre of the remnants of Huan's army and their families who remained in the four towns of Anxi!
Their ruthlessness surpassed even that of the Tibetans.
He was two-faced, opportunistic, cruel, and mean-spirited—that was Li Che's entire impression of him.
There was no warmth in Li Che's eyes. He knew almost immediately how to deal with such a force.
"Win them over?" Li Che's voice was soft, but carried a clear sneer. "They don't even deserve it!!"
Xu Jiezi paused slightly and looked at the emperor beside him.
His proposal of a strategy of appeasement was based on common sense, aiming to minimize the creation of enemies and divide the Tibetan forces.
But I didn't expect His Majesty to react so strongly, and with an undisguised contempt.
"Your Majesty means..." Xu Jiezi asked cautiously.