Ming Dynasty: Ask Zhu Yuanzhang to abdicate at the beginning

Chapter 496 Harmful Experience! All beings are equal!

As the voice faded, the room fell silent; you could hear a pin drop, and even the air seemed to freeze.

Apart from the Ming delegation, all the other ministers and military officers in Beshbali stared wide-eyed at Chen Cheng, their faces filled with astonishment, confusion, and even a hint of unease.

Even Shamichagan frowned slightly, his expression revealing shock.

Although Chen Cheng's words were spoken in a gentle and refined manner, and his tone was proper, every word was powerful and shocking.

He actually declared that Beshibali should abandon its own national title and willingly become a subject of the Ming Dynasty!

That's too harsh, too direct, and too bold.

Originally, they thought that the Ming emperor only wanted a "symbolic submission" as a matter of routine, just to put on a show and go through the motions. They believed that those who were independent would remain independent, and no one would have to bow down.

But to everyone's surprise, Chen Cheng spoke frankly and openly, saying that he wanted to incorporate the entire Beshbali into the territory of the Ming Dynasty, leaving no room for anything else.

Was this a test, a threat, or his true thoughts?

Was he using this bargaining as an excuse, or was he issuing an ultimatum on behalf of the emperor sitting high in Nanjing?
The ministers were shaken and filled with doubt, and for a moment they all fell into deep thought, their eyes flickering uncertainly.

The man with the dark hair suddenly stood up, his robes fluttering, his anger surging like a tidal wave.

"That's absolutely impossible!" he shouted, his voice booming like thunder. "Beshbali was built by my grandfather. According to you Central Plains people, this is our ancestral foundation. How can we just abandon it?"

"If that's the case, wouldn't I, the Black-hearted Son, become a rebellious son who disgraces our ancestors?"

"Envoy of the Great Ming Dynasty, please retract your disrespectful words. If you speak rudely again, do not blame me for disregarding etiquette and expelling you from the palace and banishing you from the country!"

His words were sharp and his tone was high-pitched. His fists were clenched, as if he was on the verge of anger. The guards around him tensed up immediately, and their grip on their weapons tightened involuntarily.

Chen Cheng's expression remained unchanged, calm and composed, as if he had already anticipated such a reaction from the other party.

“If the Great Khan is unwilling to go to Yingtian, it is not impossible for him to continue to reside in the Western Regions.”

"Our Emperor of the Great Ming is kind and benevolent, and considerate of human feelings. He will never punish the Great Khan for this matter."

"As long as the Great Khan is willing to cooperate with the officials sent by our dynasty to jointly govern the Western Regions, the court will treat him well."

These words sound mild, but in reality, they are a reiteration of previous statements.

The man with the dark hair suddenly turned pale.

If the first instance could be dismissed as a deliberate attempt to inflate the price, this subsequent mention is a blatant declaration of intent: it is coercion, intimidation, and provocation.

"Envoy of the Ming Dynasty, shut your mouth!"

He slammed his hand on the imperial desk, his eyes blazing with undisguised anger: "If you continue to spout nonsense, don't blame me for turning ruthless!"

The atmosphere in the main hall was tense.

Chen Cheng simply sighed softly, his expression showing no fear, but rather a hint of regret.

"Great Khan, please reconsider." He spoke slowly but firmly: "If the Great Khan insists on going against the tide, he will only ruin his future."

Upon hearing this, the Black-haired Fireman could no longer suppress his rage. He erupted like a raging inferno, roaring deafeningly:

"Guards! Throw the entire Ming delegation out!"

His eyes were wide open in anger, his face contorted, and his voice boomed like thunder, echoing faintly through the walls of the hall.

If it weren't for the immense national power behind the Ming Dynasty and a lingering sense of apprehension, the Black Emperor would probably have ordered the execution of this ungrateful envoy to appease his anger.

Chen Cheng remained calm, merely shaking his head slightly. His eyes revealed an undisguised indifference and disappointment, as if a wise man were looking at a stubborn mortal, knowing his rebellious nature yet still feeling regret.

Huo Liancheng stood to the side, expressionless, and raised his right hand and waved it lightly.

"Click, click!"

A series of crisp, uniform metallic sounds rang out instantly, causing the atmosphere in the hall to freeze abruptly.

Two hundred Ming Dynasty guards deftly raised the flintlock muskets on their backs to their chests, loaded them, and pointed them straight ahead.

Every movement was clean and crisp, without any hesitation or slack, as if they were one.

This sudden action caused the officials of Beshbali to change their expressions immediately, and many of them subconsciously took a half step back, their eyes filled with shock.

No one expected that the Ming Dynasty delegation would dare to do such a thing in public inside the palace!

The thousand elite soldiers of Beshbali, who had been secretly deployed, reacted instantly, quickly drawing their weapons and rushing out from all sides of the hall, their blades gleaming coldly, all aimed at the Ming people.

It was impossible for the Black Fireman to receive this delegation from the Ming Dynasty without any precautions, and to allow them to bring firearms for a "military demonstration".

At that moment, he sneered, flicked his sleeves, and his eyes were as cold as frost.

The main hall was already surrounded by a thousand elite soldiers he had personally selected, five times the number of the Ming army.

If the main hall hadn't been so spacious, the black-haired firefighters would have deployed even more people.

However, these thousand men are the elite of the elite in the Beshbaliq army, all battle-hardened and incredibly brave, capable of sweeping away any enemy.
Dealing with a mere two hundred Ming soldiers was no problem at all.

Moreover, this is his territory, and outside the palace, there are heavy troops from Beshbaliq.

Of course, even if the goal was to eliminate these two hundred people on the spot, there would be no need to mobilize troops from outside the palace.

The thousand elite troops deployed here are sufficient.

"The Ming delegation, lay down your weapons and surrender immediately!"

The leading general of Beshbali shouted and pointed his sword forward. The soldiers around him immediately moved forward and surrounded the Ming army.

The atmosphere was tense, with danger lurking everywhere.

Inside the hall, everyone's breathing became heavier.

Shami Chagan, standing to the side, looked extremely pale, his forehead was covered in cold sweat, and his clothes were trembling slightly.

This scene was completely outside of the plan he and Chen Cheng had prepared in advance!
He looked at Chen Cheng with a mixture of surprise and doubt, his eyes filled with confusion and anxiety.

What exactly is this envoy from the Central Plains doing?
Why did he suddenly break ties with his father?

Didn't he say he wanted to make steady progress and proceed step by step?

at this time.

"boom!"

A loud bang, like a thunderclap, suddenly broke the suffocating silence.

Everyone felt a persistent buzzing in their ears, and their minds were jolted.

The general who had just given the order felt a chill between his brows, his eyes dimmed instantly, and he staggered before collapsing heavily to the ground. Blood gushed from his forehead, instantly staining the carpet red.

It was Huo Liancheng who pulled the trigger without warning!
His expression was stern, his movements skillful, like a veteran on the battlefield. He quickly reloaded the rifle, his actions as effortless as if he were merely taking a sip of water.

Before anyone could recover from the shock, the gun barrels were raised again, coldly aimed at the next target.

The Khan of Beshibali, the Black-haired one!
The entire process takes less than a few seconds.

Chen Cheng narrowed his eyes slightly, his tone calm yet tinged with sarcasm: "Great Khan, do you really think that a mere thousand Imperial Guards can trap my two hundred armed warriors of the Great Ming?"

As he spoke, a sense of absurdity welled up within him.

I find the enemy's ignorance utterly absurd.

As a high-ranking official of the Ming Dynasty, he knew better than anyone how ferocious the muskets held by the two hundred soldiers standing behind him were.

Its destructive power is truly terrifying.

Once the Ming army raised their muskets, at such close range, without corresponding weapons and tactics, defeat was almost certain. Under normal circumstances, all they needed to do was form ranks and prepare their weapons; the wisest choice for the enemy's thousand men would have been to immediately withdraw their attack and find a place to hide.

If we choose to launch a head-on attack, it would be tantamount to suicide.

However, these Beshbali soldiers remained unmoved and cold-faced, clearly not truly afraid of the muskets, and even showing some contempt and arrogance.

Their understanding of the firearms of the Ming Dynasty remained at the stage of hearsay and imagination.

Even though they had already heard that the various tribes of the grasslands had been utterly defeated by firearms on the battlefield and had ultimately had no choice but to submit to the Ming Dynasty.

Even though they had heard that not long ago, Mahama led his cavalry in a surprise attack on the Ming envoy, but failed to break through the Ming army's defenses and suffered heavy losses, with Mahama himself dying from Ming soldiers' guns.

Even so, these soldiers still failed to truly grasp the terror of firearms.

They had heard the rumors, but had never experienced them firsthand.

They knew firearms were powerful, but lacked a personal understanding of their destructive power.

Their understanding of "powerful" is merely a vague impression they attempt to depict within the framework of their self-perception.

These elite courtiers, who had lost their way, were precisely the ones most prone to falling into this kind of blind self-confidence.

As the personal guards protecting the Great Khan, they were all highly skilled in martial arts and brave in battle. They received elite training from a young age, and each of them had the ability to fight ten men at once. They were the true backbone of the Beshbaliq army.

This is why they are used to overwhelming their enemies with their courage, have never experienced defeat, and are unwilling to admit that someone can suppress them with just a few "miracle weapons".

Even if the Ming army's firearms were more powerful, they might still be somewhat wary if the numbers were equal.

But now, their numbers have increased fivefold!
In their view, no matter how fierce a musket is, it is ultimately just a weapon.

No matter how powerful a weapon is, it still needs to be used by people.

And these guards are worth ten men each. No matter how well-trained the Ming Dynasty delegation is, how much trouble can they cause?
This is the source of their "confidence"!

They call themselves the lions of Beshbali, the blades beneath iron hooves.

They firmly believed that with their superior numbers, they would eventually crush and destroy the Ming Dynasty's firearms troops.

But they didn't understand that the cold, black muzzle of a gun could deliver a final, indiscriminate judgment on all life.

In that instant the trigger is pulled, no matter how great the strength, how fast the skill, or how courageous the courage, all are as insignificant as dust!
A 200-pound warrior who can fight off dozens of men with his bare hands is no different from a scholar who can't even kill a chicken when faced with a musket.

Their fate was the same: a bullet to the ground, and they fell to the ground, never to rise again.

The power of the musket lies precisely in this.

Under that dark, gaping gun muzzle—

All beings are equal!

No matter how strong your body is or how skilled you are in martial arts, you are powerless in the face of a musket.

This was a reality they could hardly have imagined before.

They are still accustomed to "converting" using old ways of thinking.

They always believed that as long as their fighting strength was high enough, they could suppress everything.

This is a deeply ingrained concept they have formed over many years, a set of rules of experience they have learned through years of hard work on the battlefield.

But experience can sometimes be the most dangerous prejudice.

Until the guard commander was shot dead.

Those were no ordinary soldiers.

That was the commander of the palace guards, the most famous warrior in Beshbali, a fierce general who once single-handedly killed dozens of enemy soldiers, a valiant general they were proud of, and an invincible totem in their hearts!
Yet this very person died on the spot without even getting close to the enemy.

One moment he was roaring, the next he was lying in a pool of blood, without even uttering a single angry rebuke.

The scene was deathly silent, with only the battle sword that had just been raised lying forlornly on the ground.

The guards stood frozen in place, seemingly unable to react for a moment.

"Commander!"

A guard shouted in a hoarse voice, tearing through the silence.

This man clearly had a close relationship with the guard commander. Seeing him die on the spot, he broke down emotionally and roared like a mad tiger as he charged at Huo Liancheng with his sword.

"boom!"

Another gunshot rang out, crisp and clear like thunder, cold and ruthless.

The guard's body was struck as if by lightning. His chest jolted violently, and he was sent flying backward, crashing heavily to the ground. He died on the spot without even struggling.

In just a few breaths, two lives were lost.

Moreover, the two who died were the most powerful among them.

Any one of them would be a warrior capable of taking on a hundred men, far surpassing ordinary guards.

But under the firearms of the Ming Dynasty, they were as vulnerable as chicks.

They had no ability to resist.

All that was heard was a gunshot, and then people fell to the ground.

There wasn't even a moment's struggle.

The blood stained the carpet in front of the palace and completely shattered the psychological defenses of the guards in Beshbali.

If even the strongest guards leader was powerless to resist, how could they possibly contend with the Ming Dynasty's muskets?

That dark gun muzzle is like the sword of death; whoever it points at dies!
The black-haired man's expression changed drastically. For the first time, fear and unease appeared on his face. Beads of sweat quietly slid down his forehead, and his eyes darted around, revealing a hint of panic.

Chen Cheng looked at him and said calmly, "Please tell your guards, Great Khan, not to make any more unnecessary sacrifices."

"Don't be fooled by your numbers; we only have two hundred people."

"But if we really want to make a move, it will only take a short while for us to annihilate your entire thousand-man guard."

He spoke with restraint, even mildness.

Chen Cheng was perfectly aware that these palace guards in front of him lacked even the basic understanding of how to fight against firearms.

They had no awareness of avoiding gunfire, nor did they consider how to deal with suppressive fire. They still tried to rely on their numbers and blades to charge, which was not a battle, but a suicide mission.

They weren't fighting; they were committing suicide.

Within the limited space of the main hall, slaughtering such a group would take less than a quarter of an hour, probably more than a minute.

That's a very modest way of putting it.

But these words struck the Black Fireman like a bolt from the blue, making his heart pound.

He had long known that the Ming Dynasty's firearms were powerful, and it was rumored that they could even "rain fire and thunderbolts over the ground."

However, the Ming Dynasty had extremely strict control over new firearms, and he never managed to obtain any physical examples for research.

Those who believed the fire was simply an exaggeration, an excuse used by the defeated enemy, and embellished by the messenger.

Only at this moment, when blood and gunfire shattered all illusions, did he truly realize that it was not a legend, but reality.

……

(End of this chapter)