Dandong, also known as Andong, sat at the mouth of the Yalu River, a key frontier city of the Qing, a place where wind off the sea carried the smell of salt and iron, and where every watchtower seemed to stare both inward and outward at the same time.
Since the forty sixth year of Wanli in 1618, when Later Jin began implementing its so called border stabilization policy, the frontier had been locked down tightly to prevent Koreans from crossing freely, and by now, in the eleventh year of Chongzhen in 1638, Later Jin had already renamed itself Qing, and that policy had been in force for two decades, growing harsher year by year, like a rope being pulled ever tighter around the neck of the borderlands.
Kong Youde, Geng Zhongming, and Shang Kexi stood atop the walls of Fenghuang City in Dandong, looking down at swarms of laborers carrying tools on their shoulders and dirt in baskets, piling up an odd looking earthen wall.
The wall was three chi high and three chi thick, snaking along the Yalu River like a crude brown scar across the land.
The laborers packed mud layer upon layer, and once a section was finished, they dug small pits along the top and planted willow saplings inside them.
This was the embryonic form of what would later be known as the Willow Palisade.
At this moment the willow saplings were thin and pitiful, barely taller than a child's knee, giving the entire project an almost comical air, as if someone were trying to guard an empire with a garden hedge.
No one standing there could foresee that this modest barrier would one day help turn the region into a desolate backwater, stifling economic vitality and cultural exchange for generations.
Kong Youde's brows were drawn tight as he watched the laborers work and then gazed across the Yalu River toward Korean territory shimmering faintly in the distance.
Geng Zhongming glanced at him. "Old Kong, why do you look as though someone stole your horse?"
Kong lowered his voice. "After Cao Wenzhao led troops to relieve Pi Island, why did he not follow up with further action? They gained such a decisive advantage in that battle and wiped out so many of our elite soldiers. It makes no sense for them not to press that advantage."
Geng Zhongming frowned, and Shang Kexi nodded slowly. "Their navy appears formidable, capable of transporting large numbers of troops and landing anywhere along the coast at will. Why have they remained idle all this time?"
The three men pondered for a long while before Kong Youde finally spoke again. "Could it be that they are waiting for something, perhaps for the Ming court to finish suppressing the bandits in the interior, giving their soldiers time to rest and reorganize before turning their attention to us?"
The moment he voiced the thought, the other two felt a chill crawl up their spines.
Geng Zhongming counted on his fingers and muttered, "We received intelligence days ago that Yang Sichang employed his strategy of Four Rectitudes and Six Corners, casting a net from ten directions, and that the Central Plains bandits have been largely suppressed. If we calculate from that time, allow for troop rest and embarkation to Pi Island, then…"
He did not finish his sentence, because a subordinate came sprinting toward them, face ashen, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Ships. On the waters off Dandong, Ming ships, an enormous fleet."
The Three Shun Kings abandoned all pretense of supervising the Willow Palisade construction and rushed from Fenghuang City, mounting their horses and galloping toward Dandong proper.
When they reached the coast and looked out to sea, they saw a vast fleet spread across the horizon, sails catching the light, hulls steady and deliberate, as if they were calmly surveying the city before them.
Kong Youde roared, "Prepare to repel a landing."
Geng Zhongming sneered. "Cao Wenzhao is reputed to be a famous general, yet he would attempt to land right under our noses. Let us form up on the beach and see how his troops set foot ashore."
Shang Kexi laughed coldly. "To land in full view of us would be sheer stupidity."
Soldiers began moving at once. The great crossbows on Dandong's walls were cranked into position. Waves of troops poured out of the gates and raced toward the shoreline to form ranks, bows drawn, shields raised.
Though the Three Shun Kings were branded traitors in later tales and often cast as buffoons in plays, Liaodong was no stage performance. It was a battlefield forged by years of relentless war.
Their troops had survived the chaos of the northeast through grit and blood, and their discipline, equipment, and ferocity far surpassed most of Gao Village's earlier opponents.
They were confident that they could hold the enemy on the sand.
No army, they believed, could conduct a landing operation right in front of them and succeed.
Meanwhile, out at sea aboard the Wanli Sunshine, Gao Village's commanders stood on deck observing the bustle along the shore.
Cheng Xu smiled. "They intend to form up on the beach and strike while our men are still finding their footing, driving them back into the sea before they can stabilize."
Shi Lang chuckled. "A beautiful plan in theory, utterly useless in practice. Gunners, prepare explosive shells and give the Qing troops on shore a small lesson."
The artillerymen set to work cheerfully, loading blooming shells packed with granular black powder into the cannons.
Almost as one, the ships adjusted their headings, presenting their starboard broadsides toward the coast.
"Fire."
The cannons thundered.
Black spheres screamed through the air toward the shore.
Kong Youde and his companions were stunned.
The enemy had not landed a single soldier, yet they had already opened fire.
Was there no sense of battlefield etiquette left in this world?
Qing soldiers had only just begun forming ranks outside the city gates when the first shells plunged into their formations, erupting with thunderous detonations, followed by secondary bursts that sent shards of iron flying.
Men fell in swathes.
Gao Village's artillery was still primitive by later standards, relying on old fashioned explosive shells rather than modern ordnance, yet even so, the destructive power far exceeded that of solid iron cannonballs.
Within moments, the Three Shun Kings' formations were thrown into chaos.
No orders were needed for what happened next. The soldiers instinctively began to retreat.
"The shells explode twice."
"They are not solid shot."
"Fall back, fall back farther."
The Qing troops withdrew from the beach, leaving behind only bodies sprawled across the sand.
The Three Shun Kings were furious.
The enemy fleet stood beyond reach, bombarding them at will, and without a navy of their own, they could do nothing but watch, humiliation burning hotter than the explosions.
Kong Youde gritted his teeth. "Ready the cavalry. We will not approach the shore. Let them begin landing, and when they are halfway ashore, send the horsemen charging."
Orders flew. Cavalry assembled just behind the city gate tunnels, riders donning armor, gripping lances, some shouldering three eyed fire lances or lifting Kaiyuan bows.
If they could not form up on the beach, it did not matter. Once the enemy committed to landing and found themselves divided between ship and shore, a sudden cavalry charge would throw them into disarray, and their cannons would become useless at close quarters.
They waited, tense and ready.
Then, before their eyes, the fleet turned.
The ships calmly adjusted their course and began to sail away.
"They have abandoned the landing."
"What in the world."
"They came all this way just to circle once and leave."
"They were never planning a real assault. This was harassment."
The Three Shun Kings' troops fumed in anger, staring at the retreating fleet.
"Those bastards were playing us."