My father is Chongzhen? Then I have no choice but to rebel.

"His Royal Highness!"

Abunai bowed deeply with his hand on his chest in a Mongolian gesture, speaking in a loud voice.

"My 30,000 men have all reached their designated positions. The horses have rested and their strength has been replenished, and the swords and arrows are sharpened. They are just waiting for Your Highness's command to charge into battle and defeat the enemy!"

"Okay! You've worked hard!"

Zhu Cilang patted his strong arm hard; this unreserved support was especially precious at this moment.

"After this battle, the Khorchin shall reign supreme on the southern steppes. As we are related by marriage, we shall share both fortune and misfortune, and forever be brotherly nations!"

"Thank you, Your Highness!"

A glint flashed in Abunai's eyes; these words undoubtedly gave him and the Khorchin tribe the greatest reassurance.

Just then, another handsome figure strode over, clasped his hands in a salute to Zhu Cilang, and spoke in a clear and powerful voice:

"Your subject Zheng Chenggong greets Your Highness the Crown Prince!"

Zhu Cilang turned his head and saw this historically famous brother-in-law, a genuine smile spreading across his face:
"Long time no see, how have you been?"

Zheng Chenggong was only in his early twenties at the time, but he already had a calm and capable air about him, as well as the decisiveness honed by his long life at sea.

Although he was not wearing armor, only a neat naval uniform, his vigorous spirit was in no way inferior to any veteran general.

"Thanks to Your Highness's good fortune, all is well."

Zheng Chenggong answered respectfully, his gaze meeting Zhu Cilang's. Besides the respect due to a subject, there was also a sense of closeness arising from family marriage and shared ideals.

"Your Majesty has instructed me to be here to welcome Your Highness and to report that the navy is fully prepared and awaits Your Majesty's decree!"

That night, Zhu Cilang hosted a banquet in the central command tent to entertain Cao Wenzhao, Abu Nai, Zheng Chenggong, and the main generals of various armies.

There was no wine, only hot tea and simple meat dishes. But the atmosphere was far more lively than any grand banquet.

The candlelight shone brightly, and the generals and commanders gathered together. Each face bore the excitement and certainty unique to the eve of a major battle. They discussed the enemy situation and deduced tactics, but their words contained not a trace of tension or fear, only unwavering confidence in victory and an urgent desire to achieve great things.

"Your Highness, I request to be the vanguard! I will be the first to cross the river and open a passage for the army!"

A young general excitedly stood up and volunteered.

"General Cao's artillery battalion has been preparing for days, just waiting to bombard them!"

Another general laughed.

"It's time to let the Jurchens see the power of our Mongol sabers!"

Abunai was not to be outdone.

Zhu Cilang listened with a smile, nodding occasionally. He knew that this morale was the most important guarantee of victory.

After the banquet, Zhu Cilang deliberately kept Zheng Chenggong behind.

Only the two remained inside the tent, the charcoal fire crackling. Zhu Cilang personally poured tea for Zheng Chenggong and asked:

"What's the situation with the waterway into the river? How many more days will it take?"

Zheng Chenggong accepted the teacup with both hands and replied solemnly:

"Your Highness, the dredging project at the estuary and key downstream sections is basically complete. My father has personally inspected it and found that the main warships can pass without hindrance. At the latest, in three days, when the tides and winds are favorable, our naval fleet will be able to sail into the Yalu River in a grand procession!"

"it is good!"

A glint flashed in Zhu Cilang's eyes.

"Where is the Divine Iron Fortress?"

"As Your Highness instructed, the thirteen iron fortresses have been completely disassembled into their main components and loaded onto ten specially made and reinforced transport ships, guarded by the most capable craftsmen and sailors. Once our army establishes a secure beachhead on the south bank of the Yangtze River, they can be unloaded and reassembled immediately, and at the latest, they will be ready for combat again in one day and one night!"

Zhu Cilang nodded in satisfaction. The Divine Machine Iron Fortress was the "battering ram" and a powerful psychological deterrent in this battle; it could not be lost.

The Zheng family father and son were indeed prudent in their work.

"After the navy enters the river, its primary task is to clear the river surface, establish waterways, and cover the army's crossing. Secondly, it is to take advantage of the range of the naval guns to bombard the areas on the south bank where the Jurchens might gather, thus disrupting their deployment."

Zhu Cilang ran his finger across the simple map of the river defenses.

"After the army crosses the river, it will quickly spread out to both flanks to establish defenses and send elite troops to clear out the remaining enemy forces along the banks. Your mission is to ensure that this waterway is firmly in our hands, becoming our lifeline for maneuver and also the noose around the necks of the Jurchens!"

"Understood, sir!"

Zheng Chenggong solemnly replied.

"I will certainly live up to Your Highness's expectations!"

The two discussed some details for a long time until late at night before Zheng Chenggong took his leave.

Zhu Cilang stepped out of the tent and looked up.

The night sky over Liaodong was dotted with stars, clear and high. The spring breeze carried a chill, but the bleakness of winter had vanished. He knew that the moment that would determine the course of history was about to arrive.

Three days later, at dawn. At the mouth of the Yalu River.

The sky was just beginning to lighten with the first hint of dawn, and the horizon was still a deep, dark blue-green. But soon, this tranquility was shattered.

"Waaaaah—!!"

A deep and long conch shell horn sounded suddenly, piercing through the morning sea fog and spreading throughout the entire fleet!
"Raise the sails!"

"Weigh anchor!"

"All ships, to position!"

Commands, responses, the creaking of chains, the rustling of sails rising... all blended together instantly. Hundreds of Ming warships anchored in the Bohai Bay, like sleeping behemoths awakening, began to move slowly.

Zheng Zhilong stood atop the highest point of the sterncastle of his flagship, the "Jinghai," holding a command flag, his battle robes fluttering in the sea breeze. His face was calm, his gaze sharp as he surveyed the massive fleet before him, the vessel to which he had poured half his life's blood.

"Send the signal!"

He gave the order in a deep voice.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Three blasts of the horn tore through the sky!
"Enter the river!"

The command flag slammed down!

"Jinjiang!!"

The roar was like thunder, echoing through the fleet.

The ten large gunboats at the forefront adjusted their sails first, pointing their bows toward the mouth of the Yalu River, which had been widened by two times. With their sails billowing and taking advantage of the rising tide, they slowly but firmly sailed into the river mouth!
Then came the second and third teams... Fujian ships, Guangdong ships, sand ships, bird ships, transport ships... warships of all sizes and shapes lined up in a magnificent column, one after another, like giant whales returning to their nests, surging into the Yalu River!
The masts resembled a moving forest, and the sails obscured the rising sun.

The boat cleaved through the river, splashing up white spray and roaring loudly. The entire river surface seemed to tremble!

This moment was witnessed by the surviving Jurchen sentries on the opposite bank, who were instantly terrified.

"A ship...a ​​huge ship! Ming Gou's huge ship has entered the river!!" "So many...so many ships! My God!"

"Run! Go and warn them!!"

However, their screams and attempts to flee seemed so insignificant in the face of the overwhelming power of the Ming fleet.

The fleet sailed upstream at a slow pace, yet carried an unstoppable, heavy force. The marks of the river's forced widening were still visible, and construction debris remained on both banks. But none of this could hinder the advance of this steel fleet.

Soon, the fleet entered a section of the river where the Jurchens had painstakingly constructed and laid numerous underwater obstacles. However—

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Crash—!"

The sturdy bow, like a giant hammer, easily smashed and crushed the submerged wooden stakes and reefs. Fishing nets with iron hooks were easily shredded by the propeller. Traps designed for small boats and rafts crumbled at the slightest touch before a true sea monster, like sandcastles built by children!
Without any hindrance! Without any suspense!
In just half a day, the main fleet of the Ming navy had completely controlled dozens of miles of the lower reaches of the Yalu River! What was once a natural barrier had now become an inland lake for the Ming army!

"Build a pontoon bridge!"

Zheng Zhilong gave another order.

Dozens of flat-bottomed sand barges, which had been prepared beforehand, quickly sailed to the center of the river. Sailors threw out thick ropes and chains, skillfully connecting the barges end to end. Heavy wooden planks were quickly laid on top, and railings were erected on both sides... In less than two hours, a wide, three-zhang-wide, and rock-solid "waterway" spanning the broad river appeared between heaven and earth!
"Army, cross the river!" On the opposite bank, Cao Wenzhao, having received the signal, drew his sword and pointed it forward!
"Cross the river! Cross the river!"

The Ming infantry and cavalry, who had been waiting for a long time, erupted in a deafening roar and, in orderly formation, stepped onto this unprecedented "waterway walkway," surging towards the south bank! On the river, even more small boats shuttled back and forth, transporting troops and supplies. The efficiency of the river crossing was astonishingly high.

However, the crossing of the river was not entirely smooth. A small number of Jurchen troops on the south bank, who had not had time to evacuate or who were hoping for a lucky break, attempted sporadic resistance.

Arrows came sparsely, and even a few old breech-loading cannons roared.

But all of this seemed so laughable and powerless in the face of the elite Ming army that had already crossed the river, and under the broadside cannon fire of the warships on the river.

"Form ranks!"

"Raise your gun!"

"put!"

The vanguard of the crossing—five thousand Imperial Guards equipped with new rifles—quickly deployed in a line on the south bank. Facing hundreds of Jurchen soldiers howling as they charged out from the mountains and abandoned fortifications, they calmly raised their guns, aimed, and pulled the triggers.

"Bang! Bang bang bang bang—!!"

A cacophony of gunfire erupted, and white smoke instantly blanketed the beach. Lead bullets, like the scythe of death, swept across the land. The charging Jurchens fell in droves as if crashing into an invisible wall of steel, their screams drowned out by the gunfire.

The infantry that followed fixed bayonets and launched a brief but fierce counter-charge. The gunboats on the river also adjusted their cannons and fired several salvos at the areas where the Jurchens might be hiding.

The battle—no, the massacre—was over in less than an hour.

Corpses littered the beach, and blood flowed like a river.

In this battle, the Ming army suffered only a few dozen dead and a hundred wounded, while the Jurchens lost eight thousand men and captured more than five thousand. The rest scattered into the mountains and forests, and were no longer organized.

The Yalu River defense line was thus completely breached.

As the sun set, Zhu Cilang, surrounded by his guards, stepped onto the land on the south bank using a plank that had just been covered with sand.

Beneath his feet lay the soil of North Korea, still carrying the scent of gunpowder and blood. He raised his head and looked south. There, mountains rose and fell, shrouded in twilight, and Seoul lay behind them.

"Your Highness, the components of the Divine Iron Fortress have begun to be unloaded from the ship, and the craftsmen are assembling them overnight. They should be completed by tomorrow night at the latest."

Zheng Chenggong came to report, his face flushed with excitement after the fierce battle.

"it is good."

Zhu Cilang nodded, his gaze still fixed on the south.

"Tell Zu Dashou and the others to hurry up and clear the battlefield and consolidate the beachhead. Send out scouts to scout ahead. The laborers should begin immediately to repair the roads damaged by the Jurchens, especially the sections that will allow passage through Shenji Iron Fortress."

"Yes!"

Orders were issued one after another. The massive war machine began operating efficiently the moment it set foot on Korean soil.

Zhu Cilang walked alone to a slightly higher earthen slope, with Li Hu following behind him, holding a torch. The flickering firelight illuminated his young and resolute face.

He gazed at the land, which appeared hazy and unfamiliar in the twilight, and the corners of his mouth slowly, very slowly, curved upwards, eventually forming a cold and resolute smile.

North Korea.

Three thousand miles of rivers and mountains.

It was a vassal state that the Joseon Dynasty ruled for more than two hundred years.

Now, Zhu Cilang has arrived.

Bringing the mighty military might of the Ming Dynasty and the unstoppable wheels of history, it has arrived.

He knew that the road ahead was still long, there was still one last battle to be fought in Seoul, the hearts and minds of the Korean people needed to be won over, and the post-war governance was a complex and multifaceted task.

But when he actually set foot on this land and felt its atmosphere, an unprecedented sense of pride and ambition, called "conquest" and "creation," filled his heart.

This is no longer a foreign country outside the territory of the Ming Dynasty; it will be, and must be, an inseparable part of the Ming Dynasty's territory.

"Issue the order to the entire army."

He turned around, his voice carrying clearly in the rising evening breeze, with an undeniable decisiveness:

"Rest for two days. Then, advance by land and sea and march on Seoul."

"On this journey, we will sweep away all obstacles and establish our rule over the Three Han states!"

"May the Great Ming Dynasty be victorious!"

"Victory! Victory! Victory!"

His response came from the hundreds of thousands of soldiers behind him, who had just fought a bloody battle and were in high spirits, their shouts as loud as mountains and as if they could shatter the sky!
This cry, carried by the spring breeze of Liaodong, crossed the Yalu River, crossed the mountains and rivers of Korea, and surged towards Seoul, towards the enemy who was at his wit's end, and towards the new page of history that had already been turned!

Several days later.

Contrary to the Jurchens' fears, the Ming army's advance across the Yalu River did not transform into a sharp sword aimed directly at Seoul, nor did it immediately unleash a devastating storm.

On the contrary, after capturing and consolidating the beachhead, the Ming army's advance suddenly slowed down.

This slowdown carried a chilling, unhurried sense of oppression, like a slowly tightening iron hoop, making Dorgon and his men in the ruins of Seoul feel even more suffocated than a rapid advance.

Pyongan Province, Korea: Ming army outpost camp.

The main camp was stationed on the edge of a relatively open valley, backed by mountains and facing the official road.

Unlike the smooth advance in Liaodong, from here on, the terrain of Korea began to reveal its complex and treacherous features.

Ahead lay no longer a flat plain, but rolling hills, muddy river valleys made of melting snow and ice, and vast stretches of undeveloped, dense primeval forests.

"General, the scouts ahead have reported back."

A scout officer was pointing at a map in front of the vanguard Cao Wenzhao.

"When the Jurchens retreated, they destroyed every major road that led us forward. Bridges were burned, roads were dug up, and the hillsides were piled with logs and rocks. To make matters worse, they laid numerous traps in the forests, by the water, and even in seemingly flat grasslands—animal traps, bamboo spike pits, tripwires, and even poisoned caltrops. The brothers' advance was very slow."

Cao Wenzhao stood atop a makeshift watchtower, observing the misty, mountainous terrain ahead through binoculars, his brow furrowed. (End of Chapter)