Chapter 42: Hidden Currents (Part 1)

A large yellow flag.
It symbolized a glorious history—the Yellow Flag Army that once swept through Northern Vietnam. Like the Black Flag Army, its origins traced back to the Dacheng Kingdom uprising led by Wu Lingyun and Wu Yazhong. In terms of status under Wu Yazhong, the Yellow Flag Army was far inferior; Huang Chongying was one of Wu Yazhong’s key generals, while Liu Yongfu was merely a minor leader in the Dacheng Kingdom.
After Wu Yazhong entered Vietnam, everyone sought their own fortune and went their separate ways. The Yellow Flag Army remained powerful for a few years, but later, when it clashed with the Black Flag Army over control of Baosheng, Huang Chongying sent troops to mediate. Instead, he was betrayed by the Black Flag Army, marking the decline of the Yellow Flag Army.
Repeated attacks by the Qing-Vietnamese allied forces, coupled with ambushes by the Black Flag Army, led to Huang Chongying’s death, the loss of Heyang, and the fragmentation of the Yellow Flag Army. Some joined the Black Flag Army, while most scattered elsewhere.
Now, this glorious flag was flying once again.
Seeing it, Qiao Erchi almost started singing hymns.
Long live France! Long live the Yellow Flag Army!
This water guide from Haiyang Port now tasted the power of holding authority once more: “Under the Yellow Flag, we are gathered together once more, under this glorious flag!”
Qiao Erchi’s adventure yielded unexpected results. With a French tricolor flag, a Bible, a letter from the Archdiocese of Hanoi, and Father Ruan Youming’s token, he easily secured the support of the Catholic Church in Shanxi.
These French missionaries and Vietnamese believers always regarded themselves as sacred and inviolable. They were the most resistant and hostile to the appearance of the Xiliu Camp. Yet they welcomed Qiao Erchi’s determination to lead the Yellow Flag Army to eliminate these Liu clan bandits with great enthusiasm.
With their help, Qiao Erchi raised another thousand Mexican silver coins, plus two hundred provided by Ruan Youming. With several breech-loading rifles, he successfully organized another large gathering of the Yellow Flag Army.
Over a dozen yellow flags represented their respective groups. People came from all directions, driven by Qiao Erchi’s promises: “Let me tell you all, the French lords have never forgotten us, their loyal friends. This time, the Archdiocese of Hanoi, Mr. Dubuisson, and Father Ruan Youming have provided tremendous support. They not only sent me some military pay and weapons but also renewed their promises.”
“We Frenchmen are loyal to our promises to the Yellow Flag Army, to our oaths. The Yellow Flag Army will become the most enviable profession in Annam!” Qiao Erchi waved his arms excitedly. “All we can do now is defeat the Black Flag Army.”
That was what the Yellow Flag Army cared most about: “Old Qiao, how much money and weapons did you bring? We’ve been eagerly waiting for your help.”
But as a water guide in Haiphong Port, Qiao Erchi’s income was not high; otherwise, he wouldn’t have risked everything to gather the remnants of the Yellow Flag Army in Northern Vietnam. “This time, I brought three thousand taels of silver. And there’s more good stuff too!”
Three thousand taels of silver would be exhausted by just eight hundred members of the Yellow Flag Army, not to mention hundreds of outsiders who showed up uninvited. Everyone frowned.

Qiao Erchi reported a false number, but seeing the lack of enthusiasm from those below, he had to step up his efforts: “I still have foreign guns here! Backward-loading and forward-loading ones, both…” Apart from one Spencer and two Remingtons given to him by Ruan Youming, he also sent people to buy a batch of weapons from Hong Kong—all were former Japanese forward-loading guns. Each gun with bullets cost only one or two taels of silver, and a total of thirty guns were acquired. With the help of Ruan Youming and the Archdiocese of Hanoi, and with the tacit approval of the Annamite fleet and customs, these weapons were now laid out before the Yellow Flag Army: “Want more weapons? I have a way.” These forward-loading and backward-loading guns excited the Yellow Flag Army greatly, as they were rare Western weapons in the interior! They shouted almost like wolves: “Old Qiao, tell us! We’ll follow you, even if it means facing death!” Qiao Erchi smiled triumphantly: “Even that Xiliu Camp at the Red River outpost—just a small group of people. I sent people to investigate twice, and there are only thirty-seven of them in total. If we capture the outpost, all thirty-seven of those backward-loading guns will be ours.” Thirty-seven backward-loading guns? They could imagine it, but thinking of the massacre on the Shanxi riverbank, many Yellow Flag Army members backed down: “Old Qiao, you’re pushing us into a pit of fire! That group has all backward-loading guns!” Qiao Erchi felt he was one step closer to his dream: “With French friends as our backers, what’s there to fear?” He urged them on: “We have eight hundred soldiers, and…” He glanced over and smiled: “Plus three hundred soldiers from you, Li Yangcai, along with strong support from the Shanxi Catholic Church. Are we still afraid of taking down those thirty-seven Black Flag soldiers?” Across from him was Li Yangcai, who had been defeated badly by the Qing-Vietnamese allied forces. His situation was dire—his men had even lost their uniforms. Yet he was a highly talented man: “I came here first to avenge an old friend, and second to get some backward-loading guns—nothing to do with the French.” He led his remaining troops in a breakout, with only a few hundred left. After managing to turn the tide and defeat a Vietnamese force, the Qing-Vietnamese allied forces closed in again. But when Qiao Erchi came to make contact, the two sides immediately allied. The power of the foreigners was still useful in Northern Vietnam. As soon as they protested, the Qing-Vietnamese allied forces, though anxious, had to slow down and negotiate, giving Li Yangcai a brief respite as he tried to make one last stand: “Once we get those backward-loading guns, we can go our separate ways.” Qiao Erchi didn’t care. He distributed the weapons he brought: “Those Black Flag soldiers have already entered their outpost. I know that place well—its defenses are weak. With over a thousand of us attacking, no matter how strong their backward-loading guns are, we can break through.” Having served in the military for decades, Li Yangcai was a true veteran. Hearing this, he sneered: “Without knowledge of warfare, what kind of reckless battle is this? It’s better to lure them out and fight!” Qiao Erchi remained humble: “How would you suggest luring them?” “Send a small team to engage them, feign defeat to lure them out, then surround them with ambushes and wipe them out with forces twenty or thirty times larger.”

This is not a tactic favored by the Qing army, but rather a fighting method of the Taiping forces. Back when Li Yangcai fought north and south with Feng Zicai, he fell into traps many times; on two occasions, his entire army of four to five thousand was wiped out, and he was the only one to survive among the corpses. The command style of such an experienced general is highly sophisticated, which is why Qiao Erchi also agreed, “Good! Let’s do it according to your plan.”