Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 483 Attack on Haizhou (Part Two)
He Shoushan climbed the icy stone steps to the top of the city wall. The biting north wind swirled snowflakes into his collar, feeling like ice shards piercing his flesh.

He squinted as he scanned the city wall, his heart feeling as if it were weighed down by a lead weight, sinking little by little.

Of the sixty-two Han Chinese Eight Banner soldiers, half huddled behind the battlements, their cotton armor collars turned up high, burying half their faces inside, not daring to even lift their eyelids to look out of the city.

Needless to say, the more than one hundred bondservant soldiers were all dressed in rags, and their weapons were crooked and twisted.

Several people were clutching cracked wooden spears, while others held rusty short knives. The most conspicuous of them all was a short man who was holding a charred fire stick with charcoal dust still clinging to the tip.

"Stand up straight!" He Shoushan suddenly drew his saber, the blade gleaming coldly in the snow. "We are soldiers of the Great Qing! We are the face of the Han Chinese Eight Banners! Even if we die, we will leave our bones on the city wall!"

His roar had just been torn to shreds by the wind when a deafening shout suddenly erupted outside the city. It wasn't a series of scattered cries, but rather a series of "ho ho" sounds bursting from thousands of mouths simultaneously, like muffled thunder rolling in from the edge of the snowfield, causing the snow in the cracks between the city bricks to fall down in a rustling sound.

He Shoushan turned his head sharply and saw that the Ming army had advanced to an open area three hundred paces away and was arrayed in an orderly manner: the cavalry were divided into two wings, the infantry formed a dark square formation with spear tips like a forest, and the most eye-catching were the cannons in the front row, their barrels covered with oilcloth and being dragged by more than a dozen strong horses, slowly moving towards the city.

The wind suddenly shifted, and a huge bright yellow flag unfurled with a "whoosh," its cinnabar-embroidered "horse" character standing out like blood against the leaden sky.

"General Ma Degong of Liaonan Garrison has come in person?"

Before He Shoushan could take his eyes off the Ming army's identification flag, he suddenly caught a glimpse of dark water moving across the snowfield on the Ming army's flank.

At first he thought it was a Ming army reinforcement, but upon closer inspection, he was stunned.

Those don't seem to be Ming soldiers!
A force of about two thousand men was advancing in unison along the left flank of the Ming army.

They were dressed in uniform military attire, with indigo short jackets on top and black trousers on the bottom, the cuffs tucked into leather boots. From a distance, they looked like a long strip of black and blue, cutting a clean line through the vast white snow.

The strangest thing was their hats. They weren't the straw hats of the Ming army or the warm hats of the Qing army, but stiff, wide-brimmed hats with the brims pulled down low, covering most of their faces, leaving only their tightly pursed lips and red, frozen chins exposed.

"What kind of soldiers are they?" He Fu asked in a trembling voice, his spear clanging against the city bricks.

He Shoushan didn't answer, but just stared intently at the team.

Among them was a force of about four hundred soldiers, whose formation was extremely orderly, row upon row, squad upon squad, rolling forward wave upon wave with each step.

Each step seemed measured with a ruler, and each foot landed with a dull thud. Hundreds of people marched in unison, their synchronized footsteps drowning out even the sound of horses' hooves.

What surprised him even more was their equipment: no spears, no bows and arrows, each person carried a black musket on their shoulder, the barrel of which was longer and heavier than the Ming army's arquebuses, the muzzle pointing upwards, hands holding the stock, the metal parts on both sides of the barrel gleaming coldly in the snow.

The strangest thing was that a gun barrel was also hanging diagonally with a halberd about a foot long, the blade gleaming with a bluish-white cold light, as if the gun and the halberd had been forcibly welded together.

“New Chinese!” He Shoushan uttered three words softly.

Two months ago, they appeared in Xiong Yue and Gaizhou in Gaizhou, and joined forces with the Ming army in Liaonan Town to capture the two fortresses mentioned above, and then disappeared from the battlefield.

Unexpectedly, on such a snowy day, they appeared again at the foot of Haizhou City.

Moreover, the number of people was over two thousand.

Suddenly, the group stopped.

Two thousand people stood still at the same time, their movements so synchronized as if they had been cut by a knife, and even the angle of their hat brims seemed to be almost identical.

They didn't shout like the Ming army; they just stood there quietly, their black ranks perfectly aligned, like a block of ice frozen in the snow.

The wind whipped up snowflakes that pelted them, making a soft rustling sound, but it couldn't dispel the chilling aura.

He Shoushan suddenly felt his palms were sticky, and his hand holding the knife handle was slipping.

He had fought for more than a decade and had seen the elite Ming army and the armored cavalry of the Eight Banners, but he had never seen an army like this.

They didn't seem to be there to fight a war; they seemed more like craftsmen coming to perform some meticulous task.

There was no noise, no restlessness, even breathing seemed to be synchronized, but this silence was more chilling than the deafening shouts of the Ming army.

"Sir, they've started setting up the cannons..." He Fu shouted hoarsely.

"Li Shuntai!" He Shoushan immediately snapped out of his daze.

"My lord!" A Han army commander ran over from the distant battlements.

"Take a few men and block all the city gates!" He Shoushan glared with bloodshot eyes.

"My lord, all of them..." The leader was startled.

This leaves no way out for themselves!

"all!"

“…Yes, sir!” the leader gritted his teeth and answered loudly.
-

"Demolish! Demolish all the houses on both sides of the city gate!" Li Shuntai's voice was hoarse and broken in the wind and snow.

He brandished his saber, pointing to the low thatched huts below the city wall, "Bricks, stones, and timber are all blocking the city gate! ...Block it completely!"

Thirty-odd Han slaves were whipped as they walked into the ruins. Zhao Tieshan, his back hunched, swung his pickaxe at the earthen wall, kicking up a cloud of dust.

He was originally a blacksmith in Baoding. He didn't have a good life, but he was able to support his family with his skills. However, two years ago, he was captured and enslaved by the Qing army that entered the pass.

In just a few years, a strong and robust man was tormented into a frail old man, who would sway and gasp for breath with every swing of his pickaxe.

I was so hungry that as my strength was depleted, my mouth started to water and my arms gradually slowed down.

"Hurry up!...Don't stop!" A guard swung his whip and lashed it hard across his back.

Zhao Tieshan stumbled, his legs gave way, and he fell to the ground.

“Old Zhao…” Sun the Cripple, who was as thin as a sheet of paper beside him, reached out and pulled him up, his eyes filled with an indescribable emotion, “The Ming army is about to invade…”

Through the drifting snow mist, Zhao Tieshan glanced at the anxious Han Chinese Eight Banners commander and several bondservants, then spat a mouthful of sour water on the ground.

“We’ve shaved our heads. The government troops will certainly cut off the heads of those Han soldiers when they attack, but they’ll cut off our heads too…” he said with a bitter laugh, touching his bald head. “Ha, this is the government troops’ spoils and achievements!”

"Even if the government troops can't break through, how long can we live?" Feng Erniu leaned on his shovel, panting heavily.

Upon hearing this, Zhao Tieshan paused, then looked up at his companions.

Everyone's eyes revealed a hint of hope and longing.

Perhaps, if the government troops come in, they won't chop off our heads!
"Master!" Sun the Cripple suddenly called out to one of the bondservantes, "There are some loose silver pieces under this stone slab..."

Upon hearing this, the servant immediately ran over, pushed aside the others, and looked in the direction that Sun the Cripple had pointed to.

"You dog of a servant, how dare you lie to your grandfather..." Bao Yi reached out and rummaged around for a while, only to find nothing. He flew into a rage, grabbed a whip, and was about to lash out at Sun the Cripple.

Unexpectedly, Zhao Tieshan swung his pickaxe and smashed it hard on his head from behind.

The muffled sound of skulls shattering was swallowed by the wind and snow. Several other companions swung their tools and rushed towards the remaining bondservants and Han soldiers.

"Boom! Boom!" Two cannon shots rang out from outside the city, followed by shouts of alarm from the city walls.

"Open the city gate!" Sun the Cripple grabbed the captured dagger, its blade still dripping with blood.

Several Han slaves rushed into the city gate, wielding pickaxes to smash open the bolts. The clanging of the chains was as piercing as a death knell.
-

On the city wall, He Shoushan felt a violent tremor, followed by large swathes of rammed earth and debris falling down.

He secretly looked up and saw smoke billowing from the Ming army's artillery positions, with countless figures moving rapidly, preparing for the next round of bombardment.

"Wan Sheng!"

Suddenly, a huge cheer erupted from the Ming army ranks, and hundreds of cavalrymen spurred their horses and galloped towards the city.

Meanwhile, even more Ming infantry and Xinhua Army soldiers, brandishing their spears (firearms), surged forward.

What's wrong?

They dared to attack the city so close after firing just one round of artillery?
Moreover, they didn't even carry a ladder; they were planning to climb up by hand.
"My lord, the city gates have been opened..." He Fu peered down at the city walls and immediately let out a shrill cry: "Those Han slaves have opened the city gates!"

"You dog!" He Shoushan's knife trembled. "He Fu! Take men and go immediately..."

Before he could finish speaking, he was horrified to see the bondsers on the city wall drop their weapons and flee down the wall.

"Come back!... All of you, come back here!" He Shoushan brandished his saber and roared furiously, "The Ming army is entering the city, where can you possibly escape to?"
-

At the city gate, Zhao Tieshan was knocked to the ground by the blast wave.

Xinhua's artillery shattered the city tower, and burning beams crashed into the snowdrifts, creating plumes of white mist.

He struggled to his feet and saw the first Ming cavalry charge into the city gate.

He was a fierce general with a face full of scars, his saber gleaming with a chilling sharpness.

"Kneel down and you will not be killed!" The cavalrymen's thunderous roar echoed through the city gate.

"Sir, get into the city quickly!" Zhao Tieshan wiped the blood from his face, brandished his pickaxe, and roared hoarsely, "Kill the Tartars!...Kill all the Tartars!"

The Ming cavalryman immediately fixed his gaze on him, a sinister smile appearing on his lips. He spurred his horse, raised his saber, and charged forward.

"Ah!..." Zhao Tieshan sensed something was wrong and turned to run away, but it was too late.

Using the horse's momentum, the blade gently sliced ​​open the back of his neck. As the horse's hooves shot out, he fell heavily to the ground, leaving a crimson stain on the snow.

Upon seeing this, the Han slaves near the city gate immediately scattered and fled into the city in hopes of escaping the impending slaughter.
-

(End of this chapter)