Chapter 58: To Save or Not to Save

Lu Qingyuan had intended to exchange horses with Jiang Tong and the others, since the Mongolian warhorses they rode were far superior in speed to the plodding draft horses used for hauling goods. However, lacking a good pretext and still needing to rely on Jiang Tong’s group to scout movements of the Tartars at Jinjiazhuang Fort, he found no opportunity to bring up the matter.

After the group set out, some were excited, others anxious, but overall the mood was manageable. With over eight hundred people, the procession stretched for two miles, appearing vast and mighty enough to inspire a sense of security—though no one knew how many would manage to break through the fort when the time came.

Fan Ruo and Zheng Yu stayed with little Tian Yin. Fan Ruo had a fast horse, so Tian Yin rode with him; Zheng Yu, lacking a mount, could only trudge along on foot. Since Lu Qing had promised to help him avenge his family, Tian Yin believed him, and, having somehow procured a sharpened stick, clutched it tightly in his hand—a sight that made Fan Ruo’s heart ache.

After traveling seven or eight miles, Jiang Tong and his two companions, who were tasked with watching the Tartars at Jinjiazhuang Fort, suddenly galloped back. With them was a military household who had escaped from the fort.

The man’s name was Zhang Xian. When the group saw him, he was covered in blood, with several wounds upon his body; he swayed on his feet, unable to stand straight. The sight of so many Ming soldiers overwhelmed him; not knowing who was the officer in the darkness, he fell to his knees with a thud and cried out hoarsely, “Sirs, please, save those women! Please, save those women!”

Save those women?

The crowd was taken aback. What women?

They tried to question him, but Zhang Xian, whether from terror or nerves, could only stutter incoherently and knock his head on the ground, which made everyone anxious and frustrated. Lu Qing asked Jiang Tong and his companions what had happened, but they shook their heads, saying they knew nothing. When they’d found Zhang Xian, he’d acted the same, merely begging to be taken with them and saying nothing more—certainly nothing about any women. Now, hearing his plea to save women, they were just as puzzled.

Lu Qing understood. Zhang Xian, when rescued by Jiang Tong, likely hadn’t realized they were accompanied by so many, and so had no hope of rescue. Now, seeing this force of Ming soldiers—unaware that they too were retreating fugitives—he must have thought them a relief force and clung to them as his last hope, begging for their help.

Seeing Zhang Xian shouting himself hoarse, Lu Qing had someone fetch him a jug of water. Zhang Xian drained half of it in one go, his spirits somewhat revived, and with his breath caught, he could finally speak more clearly. Lu Qing immediately began to question him in detail.

Eunuch Guo, seeing the column ahead come to a halt, assumed something had happened and ordered the Ming soldiers driving the wagons to move forward. When he saw a military household on his knees surrounded by the others, his brows furrowed deeply, and he nearly stepped forward to scold them for wasting time instead of pressing on. But when he heard what the man was saying, he cursed inwardly: What a damned mess!

Zhang Xian was, in fact, a military household from Jinjiazhuang Fort. He told Lu Qing and the others that over three thousand Oirat troops had attacked the fort with lightning speed, overwhelming the Ming defenders within half an hour. After the Oirats breached the fort, they carried out a brutal massacre—killing all the men, the elderly, and the children, sparing only some young women. Zhang Xian, by sheer luck, had hidden well enough to escape detection.

He recounted how, after slaughtering the men, the Oirat soldiers pressed further south, leaving less than a hundred to garrison the fort. They had gathered several hundred women—origin unknown—into the fort. Though the Oirats spoke Mongolian, which Zhang Xian could not understand, their lewd demeanor made their intentions clear: the women were kept for their pleasure.

After nightfall, Zhang Xian managed to escape, climbing over a wall while the Oirat guards were distracted. As he fled, the soldiers were dragging women away from the group. Lacking the courage to resist, he could only stumble away in terror, hoping to get as far as possible.

At this point in his story, Zhang Xian broke down, a grown man sobbing uncontrollably—a testament to the horrors the women had suffered.

Everyone listened in silence. Lu Qing offered a few words of comfort, and once Zhang Xian had calmed somewhat, he asked, “Are all the Tartars in the fort cavalry? Are you certain there are fewer than a hundred?”

Zhang Xian wiped his tears and replied firmly, “Yes, I saw clearly—no more than a hundred or so, all cavalry.”

“Very well. Thank you, you may go rest now.”

“Please, sirs, you must save those women! You must save them—they have suffered too much, far too much!”

Lu Qing ignored Zhang Xian’s pleas, signaling for someone to take him away. The matter of a rescue was too significant for him to decide alone; he would have to discuss it with Eunuch Guo, Song Bangde, and the others.

Lu Qing kept his own counsel and first sought Song Bangde’s opinion. Song Bangde shook his head: it was impossible to rescue them. They had only just managed to escape the burden of the civilians from Junzi Fort—how could they now risk everything for another group of dependents? Lin Xiaoqi also opposed the idea for the same reason—he refused to risk everything for a group of people they could not possibly bring with them. Ji Xiaoqi was inclined to help, but the question of what to do with the rescued women troubled him, so he leaned toward not rescuing them.

Eunuch Guo’s stance was clear even without asking—he was not one to invite trouble. Lu Qing asked several others and received the same answer: it could not be done. A chill crept into his heart.

At that moment, Jiang Tong cursed, “Damn it, are you men or not? Have you no guts? Can you really stand by while our women are ravaged by the Tartars? What’s there to fear—barely a hundred Tartars and we have so many more men! Are you telling me a hundred could stand against us all?”

“We’re all grown men here. If we didn’t know about this, that’s one thing. But now we do—are we all going to pretend to be deaf and blind? If you’re not ashamed, I am! If you won’t go, we will!” This was spoken by Zheng Xiu, the bearded man at Jiang Tong’s side. Lu Qing could never reconcile the name “Zheng Xiu”—which sounded so refined—with a man sporting such a thick beard.

“That’s right! There are few Tartars and many of us. If we unite and don’t fear death, there’s no reason we can’t beat them!” said another.

With two sworn brothers calling for a rescue, their third companion—Zhang Qing, whose delicate features contrasted with the others—naturally supported the idea as well. After speaking, he looked around for Zhou Yunyi, evidently hoping for his support, though Zhou was not present at that moment.

As the three Night Raiders clamored to rescue the women, Lin Xiaoqi sneered, “Heh, so you’re all real men and the rest of us are cowards? Rescue them if you want; I’m not going to die for nothing.”

Song Bangde, though somewhat shamed by their words, said, “It’s not that we don’t want to save those women, but we can barely protect ourselves. Saving them isn’t as simple as just breaking them out. I ask you—after rescuing them, what do you propose we do? Take them with us? Leave them in the fort? If we take them, how will we move? If we abandon them, then why rescue them at all?”

With Song Bangde’s reasoning, those unwilling to risk the rescue raised their voices—arguing that it was too difficult, that saving the women would be trouble, and failing to do so would be even worse. They were all like clay idols fording a river—hardly able to save themselves, let alone others. Should they really risk their hard-won survival for a group of strangers?

Jiang Tong and his two companions were so incensed that they could barely speak, clenching their fists in frustration.

Most were unwilling to risk their lives for a group of women they had never met. It was less about fear than prudence—they knew what could and could not be done in this world. Fewer than half supported Jiang Tong’s idea, mostly fellow Night Raiders. Eunuch Guo turned his face away, pretending not to see, wanting nothing to do with the matter.