PFC Chapter 1118 Who said the raid on the camp was necessarily a night raid?
Chapter 1118 Who said the raid on the camp was necessarily a night raid?
All the generals kept silent and looked at Dorje.
Dorjee said, "If the Qing people really want to attack the camp, they will do it tonight!"
The generals were slightly taken aback, wondering why their commander had made such a judgment.
Dorjee added, "Firstly, our army has just arrived and our camp is not yet settled."
"Secondly, his sending Dorje Tsering away, whether true or false, has confused our judgment."
"Either they deliberately let Dorje Tsering say that we were going to attack the camp, so that we would be on high alert, but in reality they would remain inactive, wasting our troops' energy and delaying our time."
"Or... he might be taking advantage of our belief that he's just creating a diversion, and then launch a real attack to catch us off guard."
"Then... General, how should we deal with this?" a general asked.
"Regardless of his intentions," Dorje said decisively, "the entire army should be on high alert tonight, with a relaxed exterior but a tense interior."
"Keep the sentries in plain sight as usual, double the number of sentries in plain sight, and lay ambushes near all the passages and water sources of each camp."
"Order the entire army to remain in their armor, horses in their saddles, and weapons at hand! In case of any unforeseen circumstances, act upon the sound of drums and bugles, and ensure that the invading enemy is completely annihilated outside the camp!"
Dorje snorted coldly: "If he really dares to come, then let him know what it means to walk right into a trap!"
"Yes, sir!" the generals roared in response and went off to make their own arrangements.
Dorjee then summoned the messenger from Naqing and gently comforted him.
He simply said that the matter needed to be discussed and asked them to return to the city to rest first, and that they would discuss it again tomorrow.
The envoy said no more and immediately took his leave.
. . . . . .
Inside the city of Chuma, the messenger reported what had happened.
Upon hearing this, Li Che simply nodded indifferently, showing no surprise, and told the messenger to go and collect his reward and rest.
After holding back for a while, Ma Zhong finally couldn't help but lean close to Li Che and ask, "Your Majesty, that old scoundrel Dorje has definitely increased his guard. Are we really not going to make a move tonight?"
Upon hearing this, Li Che turned his head, glanced at Ma Zhong, and a fox-like smile suddenly appeared on his face:
"Do it? Why do you do it?"
His voice was relaxed, but it surprised Yue Yun, Luo Yueniang, and the other generals who were listening intently.
Li Che said leisurely, "Issue my decree: the entire army will have an extra meal tonight, with plenty of meat."
"After you have eaten and drunk your fill, everyone except the soldiers on night watch should get some rest and recharge."
"Huh?" Ma Zhong was dumbfounded, and Yue Yun, Luo Yueniang and other generals also looked puzzled.
Li Che's gaze swept over them, his smile deepening, and he said, word by word, "Who told you that raiding a camp... must be at night?"
He raised his head and looked at the faint glimmer of light on the eastern horizon that had not yet been completely swallowed by the night.
"Let the soldiers get a good night's sleep. We'll deliver the greeting gift to the Tibetans at dawn."
Upon hearing this, the generals were first taken aback, then suddenly understood.
Yes, who says raiding a camp always has to be a night raid?
. . . . . .
The nights on the plateau are bitterly cold, and time seems to pass exceptionally slowly under the strain of tense nerves.
Upon Dorje's order, the soldiers in the Tibetan camp were divided into two squads.
Half of the soldiers lay in ambush outside the tents, their eyes straining from staring.
The other half of the soldiers, who should have been resting, also lay down fully clothed, with their weapons under their heads; none of them dared to truly fall asleep.
The Tibetan soldiers had been traveling continuously, and now that they had just arrived, they were on high alert. Many of them were exhausted, dizzy, and barely holding on.
Until the eastern sky finally turned a pale white, and the first light of dawn appeared.
The wilderness was silent, with no sound except for the wind, and no sound of horses' hooves.
Qingren ultimately didn't dare to come.
Inside the central command tent, the tallow lamps burned all night.
Dorjee leaned against the tiger-skin mat, closing his eyes to rest, but he did not fall into a deep sleep.
A general lifted the tent flap and entered, bowing and saying, "General, it's almost dawn, and the scouts report that there's no movement around."
"It seems the Qing people are scared and dare not come."
Dorjee slowly opened his eyes, bloodshot veins visible in them: "What time is it?"
"Reporting to the General, it is already the beginning of Mao Shi (approximately 5 a.m.)."
Dorjee was silent for a moment, then nodded: "Pass down the order, the ambush troops withdraw, and all soldiers except the scouts on duty should remove their armor and rest, cook their meals, and reorganize their weapons."
"Before 9:00 AM, each department shall rest and prepare on its own and shall not move without authorization."
"Yes!" the general replied, a relieved expression on his face, and turned to leave the tent to relay the order.
The news spread quickly throughout the battalions, and complaints arose everywhere:
"What a waste of a whole night! The Qing people are spineless; they didn't dare to come!"
"You kept me on edge, I was practically stiff with fear!"
"Quick, get rid of this sheet metal, I'm so sleepy..."
The soldiers grumbled as they helped each other untie their armor belts, rubbing their aching shoulders and backs.
Many people lit fires to roast some dry food, or simply wrapped themselves in their fur robes and went to sleep.
Even some mid- to low-ranking officers relaxed, believing that Dorjee's judgment was correct and that the Qing people were just bluffing to buy time.
After keeping watch all night, Dorje himself was also feeling a bit tired.
He stepped out of the main tent and looked at the camp gradually coming to life in the morning light. He said to his personal guards, "Although the Qing people did not attack the camp, they successfully delayed our army for a day. We cannot attack the city today. We need to rest until tomorrow at the very least."
"Order all departments to restore order by the afternoon. No department should slacken its efforts and to closely monitor the movements in the city."
Even so, he turned around and went back to his tent to catch up on some sleep.
Almost the entire Tibetan camp fell into a state of complacency, and the alert level was lowered to the lowest possible level.
. . . . . .
At the edge of the camp, there was a simple tent enclosed by a wooden fence, which was where Dorje ordered Dorje Tsering to be temporarily detained.
The tent smelled foul, and Dorje Tsering was curled up on a pile of hay in the corner, seemingly asleep.
Sunlight seeped in through the gaps in the tent, and he suddenly opened his eyes.
Listening closely for a moment, I could hear the soldiers guarding outside talking in hushed tones.
The soldiers spoke listlessly, far less alert than they had been at night.
Seeing this, Dorje Tsering made up his mind, his brows furrowed and a look of pain gradually appeared on his face.
He clutched his stomach, letting out a suppressed groan that grew louder and louder until it finally turned into a howl that sounded like a sob.
"Ouch...it hurts...it hurts so much!"
The tent flap was lifted, and two Tibetan soldiers on guard walked in, their brows furrowed and their faces showing impatience.
"Stop howling! Be quiet!"
Dorje Tsering curled up, his face pale and cold sweat beading on his forehead: "Brothers, I... I have unbearable abdominal cramps, it must be from eating something unclean yesterday... I really, really can't hold it in anymore, I need to relieve myself!"
A soldier spat: "Bear with it! The general has ordered that you stay here and are not allowed to leave!"
"I've endured it all night, I really can't take it anymore!" Dorje Tsering's voice was choked with sobs, and his body twisted as if he were in extreme pain.
To make his point more convincing, he even managed to force out a few loud and pungent farts.
"vomit--"
Caught off guard, the two soldiers were forced to take a step back by the stench, quickly covering their mouths and noses with expressions of disgust on their faces.
Exhausted from guarding all night, the smell made me feel nauseous and dizzy.
The two exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with helplessness.
Why bother arguing with a loser who will be taken away for trial tomorrow?
"Damn it!" one soldier cursed, then said to his comrade, "Go find a wooden bucket and let him relieve himself here. We'll keep watch outside. Hurry up!"
Another soldier reluctantly went out.
Before long, he returned carrying an old wooden basin that was originally used to feed the horses, and threw it in front of Dorje Tsering with a huff: "This is it! Hurry up!"
"Thank you... thank you, brother!" Dorje Tsering thanked him repeatedly, struggling to move to the edge of the wooden basin.
He then turned his back to the two soldiers and unbuckled his belt.
Upon seeing this, the two soldiers immediately turned around and left the tent, even leaving a small gap in the tent flap for ventilation.
They preferred to stay in the colder air further away than to endure the smell inside.
As soon as he heard the footsteps recede, the pained and contorted expression on Dorje Tsering's face vanished instantly, replaced by a complex look of tension and shame.
He quickly crouched down, not to relieve himself, but to awkwardly reach for his anus behind him...
This plan was a suggestion that Ma Zhong secretly gave him before he left, winking at him.
Ma Zhong's original words were: "General Dorje, this journey to the enemy camp is extremely dangerous. That old fox Dorje will definitely search you. You can't hide anything in an ordinary place."
"Only... cough cough, the valley passage might be a way to deceive everyone."
"This little gadget is very useful in critical moments, but... it's a bit of a waste for the general."
Dorje Tsering almost couldn't hold back and kicked Ma Zhong away.
This man is truly inhuman; he's the one who captured me alive, and now he's the one giving me this terrible advice.
Little did people know that without Li Che's approval, how could Ma Zhong have dared to act on his own initiative?
He was once a city commander, how could he have suffered such humiliation?
But thinking of Li Che's promise, and knowing that this might be his only chance to make a great contribution, he realized that he had to work hard.
He ultimately accepted the special mission with a dark expression and gritted teeth.
The process was indescribable; the foreign sensation tormented him for an entire night, yet he had to pretend to be calm.
At this moment, he suppressed his discomfort and nausea, and with trembling fingers, slowly pulled the long, thin, cylindrical object wrapped in layers of oilcloth out of his anus.
The tarpaulin was inevitably stained, but the outer layer was sealed with waterproof wax.
He quickly peeled off the outermost layer of dirty oilcloth, revealing a lighter inside that gleamed with a cold metallic light.
It is said that this was a specially made item by the Qing Army's artisan camp, used to start fires in harsh environments, and was much more reliable than a tinderbox.
Dorje Tsering didn't have time to marvel at the ingenuity of the device. He took a deep breath of the strangely smelly air, gripped the cold lighter, and his eyes sharpened.
He listened carefully to confirm the location of the soldiers outside the tent, then quietly moved inside.
There lay a pile of tattered blankets that had once kept him warm, and a stack of hay.
These flammable materials were pressed tightly against the cowhide of the tent, and would ignite easily.
"For my family, for a way to survive..."
He silently chanted to himself, then rubbed the lighter's roller with his thumb.
laugh--
A bright flame suddenly leaped up, appearing particularly glaring in the dimly lit tent.
Without hesitation, Dorje Tsering brought the flame closer to the dry haystack.
The flames greedily licked upwards.