Chapter 28: The Importance of Swift Action in Warfare

Ma Xun had learned how to set up a camp properly; he would never choose a water-scarce high ground, a gorge with only one access road, or a hollow surrounded by mountains on all sides to pitch camp.

He dispatched scouts on horseback to identify the four cardinal directions—Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise—and used flags of those colors to mark the area where the army would establish its camp.

He arranged for a portion of the soldiers to keep their bows strung and swords unsheathed as guards, while officers from various units conducted headcounts and checked the livestock. During the camp construction, each unit formed a protective perimeter around the central camp, and defenses such as chevaux de frise were set up where enemy attacks were anticipated.

Toilets were dug, cooking areas built—these were all measures long documented in military strategy. Ancient sages were already aware of the cycles of grain and understood that poor sanitation could lead to disease outbreaks within the ranks.

Once these tasks were completed, Ma Xun exhaled deeply, filled with a profound sense of accomplishment—even though this was merely the most basic aspect of encampment.

There was also a method to breaking camp: some cavalry would leave first, spreading out, followed immediately by infantry who would form ranks as they exited. Everything was done with careful order.

This was growth, a sign of Ma Xun’s steady progress.

Even if such skills seemed trivial to veterans like Mu Ying, there was no need to get caught up in excessive competition—it was enough to measure oneself against one's own past.

The march continued, the weather growing hotter by the day.

“Wen Ying, from now on, whether on the march or in daily life, you must never drink untreated water,” Ma Xun emphasized once again, refusing to tire of the warning. “Not river water or stream water—well water too, never drink it straight.”

Parched and dry-mouthed, Mu Ying replied, “Uncle, I’m just not used to drinking tea.”

Ma Xun, staring at the large cooking pot, said, “This isn’t about tea, it’s about water! Untreated water may look clean, but it’s not. You have to boil it before drinking; if you can’t, at least let it cool first—that’s acceptable too.”

Ping’an asked puzzled, “Uncle, if it cools down, isn’t it still untreated water?”

“It’s still boiled water, even if cooled; we call it ‘cool boiled water’,” Ma Xun explained, invoking his credentials as a medical practitioner. “There can be pathogens in water—you’ve seen insects in water before, right?”

Mu Ying and the others nodded instinctively, though the insects they had seen were mostly mosquito larvae and the like. What Ma Xun referred to were obviously bacteria; still, understanding the gist was enough.

Ma Xun continued his admonition, “Also, raw fish may taste fresh, but it mustn’t be eaten raw. Fish from the sea are somewhat safer, but fish from rivers should never be eaten raw. The same goes for meat—cook it thoroughly before eating.”

He Wenhui expressed regret, “But I love sashimi!”

“Did you hear about Chen Deng from the Three Kingdoms?” Ma Xun said. “He loved eating raw fish and ended up with worms in his stomach. You’re all out here marching and fighting; your bodies are already under strain—if you mess around with food and drink, it’ll be disastrous!”

Nearby, Liu Jing couldn’t help but glance at Ma Xun a few times, not entirely convinced by this soon-to-be uncle-in-law’s words.

But he also knew Ma Xun was skilled in medicine and had skimmed through some historical texts. Although not versed in military affairs, it was undeniable that he was well-informed and worldly, unlike someone who had wandered aimlessly in youth.

The Empress’s family truly upheld a fine tradition—truly a lineage of scholars and poets!

Ma Xun knew his military skills were limited; he could only contribute what was within his power, such as imparting some practical life wisdom—not necessarily methods of longevity, but simple health knowledge.

Many people in this era had yet to grasp such so-called common sense.

The soldiers were all exhausted, especially as the weather grew warmer, yet Ma Xun and the others still had to press on.

The schedule had been adjusted to marching at dawn and dusk, resting at noon.

Fortunately, the northern and southern climates differed: the south was oppressively hot and humid, while the north, though warm, offered some relief in shaded spots.

Scouts brought military reports, which Ma Xun examined before passing to Mu Ying.

After reading, Mu Ying’s expression grew grave. “There’s still fighting in Gansu—Wang Baobao, that traitor who forgets his roots!”

Mu Ying’s harsh words were due to this Mongol power broker’s complicated identity, once hailed by Zhu Yuanzhang as a “rare man of the realm.”

His father had led volunteer troops in Henan to suppress the Red Turban rebels, and his uncle, Chaghan Temür, was a prominent Yuan general.

Wang Baobao himself was born in Henan, his ancestors originally from the Mongol Bo’ertai tribe, who settled in Guangzhou’s Gushi County after the Mongol conquest of Henan.

He had risen amid the chaos of war, once pacifying the Central Plains.

Yet, rather than capitalizing on the southern battles between Zhu Yuanzhang and Chen Youliang to march south and decisively crush the rebels, he devoted himself to internal Yuan court struggles.

He involved himself in the disputes between Emperor Shundi and the Crown Prince and inherited the enmities of his father, uncle, and another Yuan loyalist, Bolotemur, active in Henan.

Wang Baobao wielded his troops with arrogance, obeying orders selectively. Though he held the titles of Left Chancellor and Grand Tutor under the Yuan, Emperor Shundi remained wary of him.

Zhu Yuanzhang’s northern campaign manifesto mocked him as one who “forgets the surname of China’s ancestors and instead takes the name of barbarian beasts as a proud title.”

It was no surprise Wang Baobao was reviled; born Kuokuo Temür, he was attacked by some Yuan loyalists during the late Yuan chaos, let alone by opponents like Zhu Yuanzhang.

Ma Xun asked anxiously, “What’s the situation? Is the fighting intense?”

“We need to hurry to Kaiping,” Mu Ying analyzed. “The Grand General and Wang Baobao are locked in a stalemate, and our forces are insufficient. We must have General Chang lead troops there to suppress the barbarians.”

In March, under Xu Da’s command, the Ming army consecutively captured Long, Qin, Gongchang, Lanzhou, and advanced toward Lintao. Li Siqi, cornered and desperate, surrendered.

Then Xu Da launched attacks on Xining and personally led the main force against Qingyang.

In early May, they seized Anding, Huizhou, Jingning, and Longde, passing through Xiaoguan toward Pingliang. They split forces to occupy strategic locations Yan’an and Jingzhou while dispatching Zhang Huan to scout Qingyang.

The Qingyang commander Zhang Liangchen, known as “Little Pingzhang,” was a veteran warrior commanding elite troops, with seven valiant adopted sons renowned for their courage.

Without capturing Qingyang, the Ming main force’s flank would remain vulnerable to Yuan raids. Xu Da tried to persuade Zhang Liangchen to surrender, but the cunning commander feigned submission.

To force Zhang Liangchen into a desperate fight, Wang Baobao in Ningxia held Zhang’s elder brother hostage.

While Xu Da led his forces to capture Huizhou and Xiaoguan, clearing the outskirts, Zhang Liangchen relied on Qingyang’s terrain to hold off Xu Da’s attacks.

Meanwhile, Wang Baobao and Emperor Shundi were gathering troops, preparing to annihilate the opposing main force.

Ma Xun and the others were heading to Kaiping not only to receive spoils but also to take over General Chang Yuchun’s command and defend Kaiping.

Qingyang would become the decisive battleground between the Ming and Yuan armies. Only by capturing Qingyang could the Ming fully reclaim Shaanxi and Gansu and find an opportunity to confront Wang Baobao decisively.

Otherwise, the Yuan forces would continue to threaten Guanzhong, preventing the Yuan emperor from abandoning plans to march south.

Therefore, the march had to quicken. Ma Xun fully understood the principle that speed is of the essence in war. Though concerned for the soldiers’ fatigue, kindness does not command armies.

If his leniency compromised the outcome of the decisive battle, Ma Xun would have no excuse to live.

Worse still, if a slower pace to ease the troops resulted in the Ming main force being encircled, Ma Xun and his men would be stranded on the plains, vulnerable to Yuan counterattacks and slaughter.

With the situation urgent, Ma Xun had no choice but to order the entire army to accelerate, aiming to reach Kaiping sooner and secure peace of mind.

The ten thousand elite soldiers poised for battle could very well turn the tide of war, adding a crucial edge to the Ming army in the brutal clash soon to erupt.