Section Thirteen

The topic had become rather tedious, and it was clear they had drifted from the point. Lin Feng furrowed his brows and said impatiently, "I understand what you mean, sir—but with war about to commence, I must ask you to tell me exactly how much in the way of funds, grain, and able-bodied men our Great Han can muster for this campaign!"

"Forgive me, my lord!" Li Guangdi offered a slight apology before continuing with a solemn expression. "What I said previously is precisely for the sake of the war. Sun Tzu said, 'War is a matter of vital importance to the state; the province of life or death, the road to survival or ruin, it must be thoroughly examined.' What does this 'examination' mean? It means evaluating the strength of the nation. One must realize that once the drums of war sound, it is not merely the courage of generals or the strategy of the court that decides the outcome. When nations clash, what ultimately matters is the number of able-bodied men, the stores of grain, the quality of weaponry, and the endurance of the imperial court. Does one not see the warning in Sima Qian's 'Records of the Grand Historian'? Emperor Gaozu of Han did not defeat the Hegemon of Chu through the 'Ambush from Ten Sides' alone, but because of the richness of the Sanqin region. Thus, the reason I have been calculating these figures repeatedly is truly to prepare for this very war."

Lin Feng felt a splitting headache. Resigned, he stood up and bowed to Li Guangdi, saying politely, "You are right, sir. I have been instructed."

Li Guangdi hurriedly bowed in return. "Currently, there are sufficient provisions in the national treasury to support an army of two hundred thousand for half a year without issue. However, should the war drag on, everything will depend on this year's summer harvest!"

Zhou Peigong could not help but ask, "If the war does not go well and drags on until the end of this year, what then?" His expression turned grim as he addressed Lin Feng. "Regarding the two rebel factions of the north and south, while the pseudo-Qing may appear formidable with their vast numbers, they are riddled with mutual suspicion and distrust. They are nothing but a disorganized rabble and are, in truth, a weak enemy. If our army can win a decisive victory and crush the main force under the pseudo-Prince Jian, Labu, the rest of the rebels will surely crumble. This front may be settled within a few months. However, the Dzungar Mongols of the west are a formidable foe. Their strength is vast, their soldiers are fierce, and they are primarily cavalry. Geographically, we would have to march south to intercept them, fighting thousands of miles away in Shanxi. The outcome of such a campaign is truly difficult to predict."

Facing the gaze of his colleagues, he smiled bitterly. "You lords may not know this, but the Mongol cavalry is highly mobile. Beyond their formidable combat strength, their tactics cannot be underestimated. As far as I know, the Mongol iron cavalry has always treated our Central Plains armies with these principles: 'When the enemy advances, we retreat; when the enemy camps, we harass; when the enemy tires, we attack; when the enemy retreats, we pursue.' Their soldiers are hardened and capable of enduring hardship; a bit of mare's milk and some dried meat are all they need. Each man carries two or three horses, allowing their light cavalry to cover a thousand miles in a day and night. Our army, however, relies on the coordination of infantry, artillery, and cavalry; our organization is cumbersome, our logistics are a massive burden, and our soldiers are weighed down by heavy gear, making our movements slow. In this way, the Mongol soldiers can 'drag our fat forces thin and our thin forces to their ruin.' Once our fighting strength is depleted and our morale wanes, they will launch lightning raids, constant harassment, or coordinated strikes—first attacking the weak to clip our wings, then striking the core, gradually isolating us, surrounding us step by step, and ultimately forcing our defeat without a fight, or annihilating us piece by piece during our retreat..."

As he spoke, the entire hall fell into a stunned silence. Lin Feng stared at Zhou Peigong, dumbfounded. These tactics were nothing new to him—they were, in fact, painfully familiar. It was a joke, really—that the signature tactics of the Mongol soldiers were these? He truly didn't know who had plagiarized whom.

Seeing Lin Feng deep in thought and silent, Wang Shirong continued to press his case. "My lord, I have lived in the south for a long time and understand the situation there. Moving south now, the wind is favorable, and the people of the south are soft-hearted and deeply attached to their homes. If they learn that their rear is in jeopardy, they will surely lose the will to fight!"

Lin Feng slapped his thigh and said decisively, "Very well, let it be done." He stood up and shouted, "We shall dispatch Wang Dahai and Sun Sike to Anhui, assemble the cavalry of Ma Ying and Zhao Guangyuan, and join my Imperial Guard to meet Galdan in battle!"

The ministers were aghast. Several officials stepped forward, intending to offer further counsel, but Lin Feng waved his hand and said with ironclad finality, "Say no more! We shall stake the entire strength of our nation on this, and we must win this battle in a single stroke!!!"