Chapter 2118 - Chang Qingyun
Only higher-echelon or specialized units received radio equipment allocation. Beyond traditional runners and conventional bugle signals, units communicated via light signals at night and semaphore during daylight hours. Subsequently, the Science and Technology Department had developed a mirror-based reflector apparatus using historical references—capable during daylight of transmitting Morse code via reflected light at approximately two to three signal groups per minute. Though substantially faster than semaphore, the obvious disadvantage manifested in drastically reduced transmission range during inclement weather.
Whether semaphore or light signals, neither proved particularly convenient for transmitting battlefield information. Especially during field operations—unless fighting from prepared defensive positions—establishing communications networks at leisure proved nearly impossible. In most combat situations, they still relied heavily upon traditional bugles and physical runners.
However, siege warfare constituted slow, methodical operations, with units dispersed across wide areas—precisely the ideal scenario for visual signaling networks.
The 1st Brigade's Signal Battalion visual signal teams were divided into six squads, deployed strategically at Bangshan's northern slope, the summit of Zhushan, south of Wuzhou city, southeast of Wuzhou, atop Beishan, and north of Wuzhou. Each squad consisted of a signalman, observer, decoder, runner, and reserve. To achieve superior vantage points and unobstructed signal paths, each squad deployed with a tall platform resembling a lifeguard chair at swimming pools—constructed from steel tubes and connectors, which could be disassembled for transport and reassembled on site. The platform was secured with guy ropes and long spikes driven into the ground; only two operators could fit atop, with the signalman and observer secured by safety harnesses. When transmitting or receiving signals, they would stand and move into position. Observers were equipped with high-powered binoculars; upon spotting a "ready to transmit" signal from any direction, the signalman would respond with the appropriate motion or light signal, then commence receiving. The standard flag signals consisted of thirty motions, representing either twenty-six letters or ten numbers; A through I also represented digits 1 through 9; K represented 0; the remaining four motions indicated "standby/space," "following signals are numbers," "error," and "cancel"; J also meant "following signals are letters." Light signals employed Morse code directly.
During daylight when observation conditions proved favorable, semaphore was simpler than Morse-based light signals and faster for transmitting uncomplicated messages. But now darkness had fallen, so only light signals remained operational. The observer watched the transmitting station through binoculars, calling out corresponding letters, numbers, or meanings aloud; the decoder recorded them and swiftly interpreted the message, then dispatched the runner to deliver the decoded communication to its intended recipient. Conversely, the decoder would encode outgoing messages into appropriate code, reading aloud to the signalman, who would then transmit. If messages required relay to subsequent stations, the decoder would issue relay commands upon completing decode operations, and the signalman would transmit to the next station after receiving their "ready" acknowledgment.
Each squad's positions weren't permanently fixed; they maintained four-on-duty, one-resting rotations, ensuring timely transmission and reception of intelligence.
When the sentry atop Bangshan observed unusual activity at Wuzhou's Xijiang Gate through binoculars, he watched while simultaneously reporting to the senior officer on Bangshan—the artillery company commander. The commander dared not delay; after observing carefully through his own binoculars, he ordered the signal squad to transmit the message.
The message read: "Station 1: Over ten thousand refugees pouring from Xijiang Gate."
Station 1 referred to the signal squad positioned south of Wuzhou city. The squad atop Zhushan received the message and immediately relayed it downward. Station 3—the Bangshan signal squad—then received the following reply: "Station 3: Intensify observation. Continue reporting."
Then came: "Station 1: Ming soldiers shooting arrows at refugees."
Followed by: "Station 1: Refugees heading north."
And then: "Station 1: Refugees approaching northern perimeter."
Zhu Mingxia couldn't yet decipher what the Wuzhou garrison intended, but with such an enormous crowd of refugees suddenly pouring forth, no way existed to determine if Ming soldiers were concealed among them. Carelessness here could spell disaster. He made a snap decision, ordering the squad to transmit to Zhu Quanxing: "Station 4: Intercept outgoing refugees."
From a purely tactical standpoint, intercepting refugees constituted questionable strategy. Their numbers were vast, and Ming soldiers might be infiltrated among them; thin defensive lines could be easily overwhelmed. A more cautious approach would be opening corridors and permitting them to disperse naturally.
But Zhu Mingxia considered that if Ming soldiers infiltrated the refugee column and slipped through Australian lines, that alone would be problematic—but should they then circle back for surprise attacks on rear supply depots, the consequences would prove catastrophic.
Upon receiving the order, Zhu Quanxing employed light signals to command the position northeast of the city at Beishan, directing them to coordinate with the two companies dispatched from the northern perimeter to establish an encirclement before the refugees attempted penetrating their defensive lines—preventing them from scattering en masse into the countryside.
Though Yi Haoran privately grumbled that Chang Qingyun had fled faster than a startled rabbit, Chang Qingyun hadn't maintained the composed demeanor his "I possess a comprehensive plan" bearing had suggested. Before civil order within the city collapsed completely, he had already slipped away.
Chang Qingyun hadn't been "abandoned" within the city—he had actually volunteered to remain as the designated individual to issue the arson order. At that moment, he had felt rather heroic about the decision, something of a "the wind blows cold over the Yi River" sacrificial sentiment. Even when Yi Haoran had burst in to confront him, he had maintained a certain "calm and composed" façade.
However, as civil order within the city began catastrophically unraveling and the messengers he dispatched failed to return, Chang Qingyun's courage drained away bit by agonizing bit. When he realized the situation had spiraled utterly beyond control, he couldn't suppress mounting panic. The determination to "die a martyr's death" that he'd felt earlier no longer seemed quite so firm. He abandoned concerns about arson implementation and summoned his servants to bring a change of clothing.
He had secretly prepared several sets of commoner's garments in the yamen. Now he and three personal servants all changed into brown jackets and small caps, disguised as ordinary townsfolk. They burst through the main gate and blended into the mob of expelled civilians.
The streets had already descended into chaos—a sea of heads, the cries and wails of the crowd filling the air with cacophony. Chang Qingyun looked upward and spotted flames rising in the northern districts; he guessed the fires had already commenced.
The crowd froze momentarily, everyone raising heads to stare at the red glow staining the horizon. Then suddenly a man's voice, high-pitched and breaking with terror, shrieked from somewhere within the throng: "Catastrophe—fire!" Everyone jolted as if struck, surging violently toward Dayun Gate. The panicked stampede rolled through streets and alleys; people continuously joined the human flood, and those who hesitated even momentarily were knocked down and swallowed by the crushing tide.
Within the torrent of fleeing humanity surged both civilians and soldiers. Some wealthy households had servants shielding them as they clutched valuables and fled; some had been consuming dinner and still clutched broken bowls as they ran; disheveled scholars, women whose skirts had been trampled entirely off—all ran indiscriminately among the mob. Soldiers initially attempted beating paths with scabbards, then simply drew blades and cut down anyone obstructing their escape.
Chang Qingyun felt panic seize his chest: the fires had ignited prematurely!
But no time remained for contemplation. Master and servants were swept along by the stampede, crashing through a porridge stall established by some charitable soul. The cooking stove toppled, and glowing embers rolled beneath the eaves where several clay jars were stored. A single spark touched one, and with an explosive "whoosh" flames erupted skyward. The conflagration swiftly licked at the straw roof, and within heartbeats the entire structure blazed.
"The city's burning! Run!" The already panicked mob went utterly berserk. Those nearest the flames shoved desperately toward the opposite side of the street; those on that side pushed back with equal ferocity, and a vast swath of people collapsed. Before they could regain footing, subsequent waves had already trampled over them. Those in front felt the ground beneath them go momentarily soft; those behind no longer registered even that sensation.
The conflagration spread from structure to structure, from block to block. Chang Qingyun felt disaster closing inexorably; he swung elbows violently in both directions, struggling desperately to break free of the crush. But resistance proved futile—a harder elbow smashed into his temple, and he heard only a thunderous "boom" before his consciousness blanked entirely.
Chang Qingyun stumbled leftward, but was immediately shoved back by bodies on that side. He possessed no control over direction, couldn't halt his feet, could only be borne forward helplessly by the stampeding tide. In his daze, he seemed to glimpse the north gate ahead; then, still disoriented, it appeared he had somehow passed beyond the walls.
It was his servant Changshan who retained presence of mind. Spotting a stone stele beside the roadway, he dragged Chang Qingyun behind it—barely escaping the crushing flow. By the time Chang Qingyun regained his senses, he found himself sitting in roadside mud; the surging crowd had dispersed somewhat beyond the city.
Of the three servants he'd brought, only Changshan remained.
Having survived the catastrophic rout at Chengmai, Chang Qingyun quickly composed himself. He looked back toward Wuzhou city; the fire wasn't extensive, and the choking smoke had already dispersed on the wind. He felt a pang of bitter disappointment. He recalled that the final intelligence he'd received before departing the city indicated that garrison troops and militia throughout Wuzhou were already actively resisting official authority—apparently, everything had once again been sabotaged by "collaborators"!
At this moment, his entire body ached profoundly. Looking down at himself, he presented a sorry sight—trousers torn at the knee, hands scraped raw and bleeding. He must have fallen countless times during the flight from the city. Glancing at Changshan, he too was in deplorable condition—no doubt his sustained struggles throughout had prevented Chang Qingyun from collapsing and never rising again.
"Changshan, I owe you my life this time!"
"Master, please don't say such things," Changshan responded, visibly embarrassed. "It's only... Changwei and the others have vanished—the provisions and silver were all in their possession."
(End of Chapter)