Ming Dynasty entry: I am Chongzhen, the greatest emperor of all time!

Chapter 86 The Fall of Kaifeng

Suddenly, a mournful horn sounded from the north bank of the Yongding River, and a total of nine thousand Mongol cavalrymen surged out of the mountain valley in three torrents.

The Aohan tribe's cavalry on the left was the most uneven, with half of the riders still wrapped in tattered sheepskins, their quivers tied to their waists with straw ropes and swaying.

Only officers of the rank of centurion or higher were entitled to wear leather armor, and iron armor was even rarer.

Some of the warhorses were even less than four feet tall at the shoulder, with a soft bow hanging on their saddles.

The Aohan tribe had just suffered a white disaster last year, so it would be good if they could gather three thousand cavalry.

"May the heavens grant us eternal life!" Aohan Taiji brandished his horsewhip inlaid with red coral, and the three hundred vanguards immediately let out a battle cry like wolves.

The centurion in the front row wasn't even wearing a fur coat; his chest hair was showing through his coarse linen clothes, and his eyes were full of contempt for the Ming army.

The Uriyangkhai tribe in the center presented a different picture. Their three thousand elite cavalrymen all wore black sable cloaks, worn down to the bald, but the tribal totem embroidered on the collars was still clearly visible.

Most of them had a leather armor underneath their cloaks, and they also carried short spears and curved swords.

Two quivers of arrows hung on either side of the saddle, their arrowheads gleaming white in the sunlight.

As the second largest tribe on the grassland after the three major tribes, and a staunch vassal of the Tumed tribe, the Uriyangkhai tribe still possessed considerable strength.

The flag bearer at the forefront suddenly raised his voice, and the resounding battle cry of three thousand men shook the snow off the pine branches: "Tengri!"

As for the remaining Bairin tribe, they were just there to make up the numbers. If Daishan hadn't been so tough, they wouldn't have sent troops. Wouldn't it have been better to do business with the Ming Dynasty?

Meanwhile, four thousand Qi family soldiers had already formed a wagon formation five miles outside Zhangjiakou.

Dozens of sidecars were linked end to end to form a ring defense line, with iron-clad chevaux-de-frise erected between each car and triangular caltrops scattered under the car shafts.

Armored swordsmen and shieldmen knelt along the inner edge of the wagon formation, their twelve-foot-long spears resting on their shoulders, the tips gleaming coldly in the morning sun.

Not a single person moved, not even a hint of fear.

Everything awaits orders; when an order is given, everything is done; when an order is given to stop, everything ceases.

"Firearms team, load the explosives!" Qi Yuan stood on the watchtower in the center of the formation, sword in hand, and immediately gave the order as the Mongol cavalry drew closer.

The messenger waved a red triangular flag.

A continuous clanging of metal filled the air as the three musketeers lifted their moisture-proof tarpaulins, revealing their firearms arranged in echelons.

The first row of three hundred men carried improved swift-fire guns, with the five-barreled guns mounted on the firing ports of the cart shafts. The second row of six hundred musketeers knelt on one knee, their waist pouches filled with rationed gunpowder packets.

Twenty tiger-crouching cannons on both sides, with their muzzles slightly tilted upwards, aimed at the slope.

There are four such formations in a row.

Dust and smoke began to rise from the mountain ridges on the north side of the valley, and nine thousand Mongol cavalry split into three torrents that swept across the hills.

The vanguard of the Uriyangkhai tribe, carrying the blue wolf banner, charged at the forefront. The cavalry was spaced two horses apart, a standard open formation for mounted archery on the grasslands, which could both avoid a hail of arrows and allow for a change of target at any time.

Dozens of scattered cavalry charged into firing range.

These riders, swaying from side to side on their horses, were even able to hook their toes into the stirrups and draw their bows sideways.

Bone arrows rained down on the Ming army's chariot formation, but most of them stuck into the iron-clad chevaux-de-frise, the wolf teeth tied to the arrow shafts futilely gnawing at the wood.

It doesn't cause any real damage, but it certainly doesn't lack in momentum.

This portrays Qi Jiguang's army as lambs to the slaughter.

"The Ming dog is hiding in an iron turtle shell!" The centurion Aohan, his face covered in frostbite, laughed wildly and spurred his horse forward, only to suddenly discover dozens of dark iron pipes protruding from the gap in the carriage shaft.

Qi Yuan swung his command flag down, and twenty cannons roared simultaneously, their exploding shells, coated with iron plates, bursting into black clouds in mid-air.

He instinctively leaned down and pressed himself against the horse's neck, but then a series of thunderous explosions rang in his ears as the iron slag from the twenty crouching tiger cannons turned the front thirty riders into sieves!

Before he could react, blood splattered from the head of his warhorse.

The warhorse, rearing up, crashed into the ground, its splattered brains drawing a fan-shaped trail of blood.

"Change the bullets!" The gunners shouted as they loaded the pre-loaded bullets into the breech. This rapid-fire device, similar to fixed ammunition, increased the rate of fire by more than three times.

Moreover, Qi Jiguang's army fired in four separate groups, with the cannonballs never ceasing.

Several waves of cannonballs cleaved through the center of the cavalry formation, causing the frightened warhorses to dangle their entrails and charge around, shattering the once-orderly wedge formation.

Just as the Aohan cavalrymen had drawn their bows to full strength and charged within a hundred paces, they saw wooden barriers erected in the Ming army's ranks.

The three-tiered musketeers extended their gun barrels from the firing ports.

"put!"

The first volley of bullets fired in unison, raining down lead bullets like a storm.

The flag bearers leading the cavalry charge were stunned.

Shouldn't they be firing in a cluster around each other?
What's different?
The third rank of muskets fired in unison, and the charging cavalry seemed to have crashed into an invisible iron wall. The corpses in the front rank slid straight to the front of the wagon formation due to inertia and were impaled by barbed wire.

"Change to armor-piercing arrows!"

Aohan Taiji's voice trembled. In just a short while, more than 500 of his 3,000 cavalrymen had been lost!

If it weren't for him, the rest of the people would have left long ago.

The hundred elite archers that Ao Han had barely managed to muster immediately drew heavy iron-tipped arrows from their quivers.

He also replaced the horse bow in his hand with a large bow passed down from his ancestors.

These arrows, which require a strong bow to draw fully, once pierced through two layers of chainmail.

Only the most elite warriors can use this bow.

The entire Aohan tribe, with over 20,000 people, could only muster fewer than 100 members.

Aohan Taiji had always felt that even if this kind of warrior was not as good as the Eagle Shooter, he should not be much worse.

then……

At this moment, he discovered that these warriors, whom he was so proud of, were no match for the Ming army in the exchange of fire!

Any Ming army musketeer could easily take down the archers in the front row from a hundred paces away.

The archers, however, dared not engage in a direct confrontation, instead riding their horses to find safe areas where they could gather the strength to draw their bows.

As soon as a skilled archer stood still and drew his bow, before he could even gather his strength, the Ming soldiers only needed to turn their guns around and gently pull the trigger, and the lead bullet would knock off his turquoise-inlaid headband.

As his body fell, the gilded quiver at his waist spilled onto the ground, and the twelve feathered arrows were trampled into dust by the hooves of the fleeing soldiers.

Even more terrifying were the cannons; each time they landed, they would kick up caltrops soaked in kerosene, causing frightened warhorses to drag their entrails and disrupt the rear ranks.

The surviving Bahraini cavalrymen attempted to flank the enemy to avoid the fiercest fighting in front, but instead stepped on stone mines buried in shallow soil.

The improved gunpowder blasted three hundred barbed wire spikes into the air, creating a deadly metal storm.

A white-maned horse had half its head chopped off, and the rider plunged into a pile of burning sulfur powder. His screams abruptly ceased as the blue smoke rose.

A yellow horse knelt on its front hooves, and the rider was thrown into the air by inertia. Before he could land, he was pierced by three spears.

A boy with a childlike face tried to dismount and escape, but as soon as his boots touched the ground, he stepped on a caltrop and screamed as he rolled into the burning fire.

When the surviving cavalry realized that charging head-on was tantamount to suicide, whether they tried to take a detour or postpone their advance, they all ended up in defeat.

The Ming army had barely finished warming up when the Mongol cavalry had already turned from attacking to fleeing.

Qi Yuan was utterly speechless.

Is it really not good to lose just over a thousand cavalry?
You should at least have breached the defenses of the sidecar!

It would also allow his men to practice the Mandarin Duck Formation.

Unfortunately, the Mongol cavalry was simply too ineffective.

Qi Yuan had no choice but to order, "Each formation will fire three more rounds, after which they will form a large formation to pursue!"

The flag bearers waved their flags, and the drums beat loudly.

The story terrified Aohan Taiji.

He didn't have time to care when his golden crown was knocked off; he was busy hacking at the fleeing soldiers blocking his way with his scimitar.

But they discovered that the supervising team with the red flag was shooting deserters!

"Can't retreat!"

The flag bearers of the Uriyangkhai roared and waved their banners, the wolf head patterns fluttering in the wind.

"Charge into the wagon formation and seize the muskets! Then retreat." Before he finished speaking, several lead bullets pierced his cloak at the same time, and the wolf-head banner fell askew.

Now the Mongol cavalry were even more panicked. With Qi Jiguang's army in front and the supervisory team behind, the warhorses on the battlefield could only run around wildly.

They intertwined again.

How could Qi Yuan possibly let such a good opportunity slip by? He quickly raised his hand and gave the order.

"All units, pursue and engage! Four li!"

With the blue command flag waved, the chariot formation immediately opened up eight lanes.

Three thousand Qi family soldiers surged out like an iron gate, their long spears and wolf-tooth rakes forming a moving forest.

Even when pursuing, they never forget to form a formation.

The rattan shield bearers were in front, stopping at five drumbeats to ensure the musketeers behind them kept up, while the spearmen and wolf-tooth rake bearers were positioned on either side to guard against enemy attacks.

Standing atop the large stockade not far away, Dai Shan saw through his telescope that these Ming soldiers rotated in time with the beat of drums, each volley of fire as precise as a machine, and they even had time to squat down and close the eyes of their wounded comrades.

Moreover, his steps were extremely steady. As long as the drumbeats continued, his steps did not stop. No matter if there were cavalry counter-charging or a hail of swords and spears in front of him, he did not even flinch.

“That’s not the Ming army,” Khalkha Taiji’s silver bowl slammed onto the watchtower floor.

"It's...it's...it's the Zhejiang soldiers from the Tianqi era!! It must be!!"

The Uriyangkhai chieftain looked at Daišan incredulously, "This is the weak Southern people you were talking about!?"

Daishan was speechless for a moment, "I..."

Uriyangkhadaiji didn't have that much time to investigate; if it dragged on any longer, the three thousand cavalry would be wiped out.

He snatched the horn from his personal guard, intending to order the Mongol cavalry to retreat, but he couldn't get a proper note out of the horn.

Not only them, but even Daishan was extremely shocked.

Is this still the Ming army?!
His intention in sending the Mongol cavalry into battle was to assess the Ming army's fighting strength and, incidentally, to lull the opposing emperor into a false sense of security.

It's not that we hadn't considered the possibility of defeat, but we never imagined it would be so decisive. Weren't all the elite troops of the Southern Dynasty wiped out?!
How can such a powerful force still exist?!
Even if we send in the elite armored troops of the two Red Banners, we might not be able to break through their formation.

Daishan also experienced the bloody battle of Hunhe River and witnessed the scene of the White-Clad Soldiers and Zhejiang Soldiers piercing through Nurhaci's White-Armored Soldiers.

He was 100% certain that the four thousand Ming soldiers in front of him were even more elite than the Zhejiang soldiers and the White-Spear soldiers!

The fact that not a single person made a mistake from defense to pursuit speaks volumes.

Despite his shock, Dai Shan remained completely calm.

Raise your hand to signal the messenger to sound the retreat.

These Mongol cavalrymen were poor, but at least they were still usable.

The sound of metal horns rang out, and the supervisory team retreated.

The remaining seven thousand-plus light cavalry fled for their lives, galloping back into the main camp.

Because Qi Jiguang's army had to consider their formation and lacked the mobility of horses, after chasing for three miles, the light cavalry had already moved far away from the encirclement and could only watch helplessly as the routed soldiers fled.

Qi Yuan had no choice but to order the army to retreat.

At the same time, two largely similar battle reports were sent to Zhu Youjian and Dorgon respectively.

……

Zhu Youjian received the battle report within an hour of the battle, covering a mere few dozen miles.

But this battle report was of little use to him; the Mongols had long lost the glory of their sweeping conquest of Eurasia.

Under the constant suppression of the Ming Dynasty, it was already beyond imagination that the entire Southern Mongolia could still muster 100,000 troops.

Their combat effectiveness was close to that of ordinary border troops in the Ming Dynasty, and sometimes they were even beaten down by the border troops.

Their combat strength is not even worth mentioning.

But this battle report was very important to Dorgon.

In his plan, none of the four armies could be defeated. If any one of them failed, it would boost the morale of the Ming Dynasty in the south. Given the water network and natural barriers of the Yangtze River in the south, it would be almost impossible for him and Dodo to conquer it.

However, Dorgon was too far from Zhangjiakou.

Moreover, it also requires traversing the entire northern Zhili region.

It took several Qing cavalrymen three days to cover a distance of over two thousand li.

Meanwhile, Dorgon had already arrived at Kaifeng.

In the twilight, the city walls of Kaifeng gleam with a dark red glow under the setting sun. This capital of the Northern Song Dynasty, which was raised by the siltation of the Yellow River, now stands majestically over the Central Plains with its rammed earth and brick walls, which are 36 feet high.

The seventy-two watchtowers on the city wall protruded from the wall like the fangs of a giant beast. Under each watchtower was a pottery urn filled with oil. This was originally a weapon prepared in the eighth year of Chongzhen's reign to defend against Li Zicheng, but unfortunately it was exhausted in the subsequent battles to defend the city.

The kerosene that King Zhou personally paid for had long been stolen by the garrison and used to pay for wine.

The moat was formed by drawing water from the Bian River. The water, which was twenty zhang wide, shimmered with an oily sheen. The suspension bridge and iron chains had long since disappeared.

The iron chains at the Xishuimen sluice gate have long been rusted to a dark red color. Last winter, the sluice gate, cracked from freezing, was stuck diagonally in the waterway, attracting wild ducks to peck at the duckweed in the broken ice.

The iron-clad wooden gate at the northwest corner of the city wall was ajar, and the bluestone slabs at the hinge of the gate had been pressed into deep grooves by cart tracks.

The exposed rammed earth layer reveals fragments of porcelain mixed in with the ground—these are 300,000 pieces of Jun porcelain fragments that General Wang Bing sank into the foundation after the Jin army breached the city.

Behind the battlements on the city wall, the worn-out "Liu" character banner hung limply.

The garrison soldiers, clutching their rusty muskets, huddled in a sheltered spot. Wolfberry vines, growing in the cracks between the bricks, swayed in the north wind, and a few withered red berries fell onto their icy felt boots.

On the crooked grain cart in the passageway of the barbican, moldy millet was leaking from the torn sacks.

A month ago, Prince Zhu Gongxiao of Zhou wrote a special letter requesting 30,000 shi of grain from the Ministry of Revenue in Nanjing. The grain was still new rice when it was in the warehouse. After being transported by the Ministry of War and the Five Military Commissions in Nanjing through twelve circuits, 70% of the grain had been sifted out by the time it reached the city walls.

All that's left are some old grains.

Despite its dilapidated state, this largest city in the Central Plains withstood numerous fierce attacks from Li Zicheng and Zhang Xianzhong, successfully defending Henan Province.

Seven miles outside Kaifeng, Dorgon reined in his horses, his gaze cautiously fixed on the city walls.

Forty thousand iron cavalry silently deployed their formation, the gilded cotton armor of the two yellow banners reflecting the afterglow of the setting sun, gilding the withered yellow plains with a layer of gold.

Even though he had two Yellow Banners under his command, Dorgon still felt it was best to be cautious. If he couldn't take them, he should immediately change course and not be delayed.

Gently raise your right hand.

Ashan, the commander of the Bordered Yellow Banner, immediately blew the eagle whistle. With three short, sharp cries, three hundred heavily armored soldiers dismounted and tied the hay soaked in Liaodong kerosene into the shape of a saddle.

This kerosene, made from wolfsbane and pine resin, has an excellent ignition effect; even dirt stuck to it can burn for the time it takes to burn two incense sticks.

Yesterday, Dorgon released a secret offer: twenty taels of gold to bribe the goalkeeper.

As long as these three hundred Bayara can set the city gate on fire, he is willing to send a large army to suppress it.

Behind him were thirty armored carriages.

This was specially prepared for the twelve Great General Cannons cast during the Wanli era that were mounted on the walls of Kaifeng, although the spies said that only four of the twelve cannons were usable.

As the three hundred assassins quietly approached under the cover of dusk.

Liu Liangzuo, who was inside the city, couldn't help but shiver.

Although the general was wrapped in a white fox fur coat, he was still shivering. The cold north wind of late spring blew through the carved window lattice and scattered the ambergris incense on the edict of the Zhou king on the desk.

The imperial edict clearly stated that he should hold out and await reinforcements.

But how could he not know that there were no reinforcements? The reinforcements from Nanjing had gone to Shandong.

Zuo Liangyu from Huguang will not arrive in Henan for another forty days.

Although King Zhou and Gao Jie's troops were only a hundred miles away from him, the Emperor's orders were to defend the three cities of Zhengzhou, Kaifeng, and Luoyang, and the enemy was the Jurchens. Who would risk their life to come to his aid?
He initially thought that Zhengzhou was too short, and Luoyang had been plundered by the rebel Li Zicheng, leaving the city in ruins. Only Kaifeng had always been under the control of the Zhou king, and its city walls were high and strong. He believed that the Jurchens should not have come here.

But who would have thought that the Jurchens, upon entering Henan, would head straight for Kaifeng?

Do you, Dorgon, even know how to fight a war?

But it's too late to say anything now; let's try to see if we can defend the city.

Just then, a hurried shout came from outside the door.

"Report!! Fire at the North Gate!"

When the guards burst open the door, Liu Liangzuo was immediately startled.

He hurriedly ran out of the study and stood in the courtyard, where he could see the flames soaring into the sky.

If it were just a simple burning of a door, Liu Liangzuo wouldn't be too terrified.

As a famous long-legged general, leaving himself an escape route in every battle was his best habit.

This time, defending Kaifeng was no exception.

He blocked three of the five city gates of Kaifeng.

The remaining two are specifically for escaping.

And the North Gate is one of them!

This isn't just burning the north gate, it's burning his very lifeline!

"Quickly! Take the armor of this town!" Liu Liangzuo's voice suddenly became sharp, and he stopped his personal guards just as they were about to leave.

"Go and summon the entire army's commander... no! Go and summon Liu Cheng! Quickly! Just summon Liu Cheng!"

The guard nodded blankly, then ran away in a panic.

Liu Liangzuo didn't dare to linger and hurriedly put on his armor.

When Liu Cheng, the adjutant and adopted son, burst open the dilapidated door, Liu Liangzuo was putting on arm armor.

Hearing the sound, he suddenly looked up.

"Quickly gather our four thousand elite soldiers and head to the west gate. Also, take everything we have. You only have half an hour, understand?!"

Liu Cheng was all too familiar with this kind of talk. He scratched his head and asked, "Father, our family's wealth and elite troops are fine, but we haven't taken over so many high-ranking officials and wealthy merchants in Kaifeng Prefecture yet. The Jurchens haven't attacked the city yet, have they? If we run away now, wouldn't we just be letting the Jurchens get away with it?"

"You bastard! What time is it and you're still thinking about such fleeting wealth!" Liu Liangzuo shouted angrily. "Those outside are the two Yellow Banners led by that old traitor Dorgon. Do you think you can stop them?"

"Do you think Dorgon is like Li Zicheng or those peasants? The Jurchen's horsebows alone could pierce through three layers of leather armor!"

"Emperor His Majesty was able to lead the Capital Garrison to defeat a million-strong army, yet he was still held back by a Jurchen detachment. Do you think you're more capable than Emperor His Majesty?!"

Liu Chengtie broke out in a cold sweat under his forehead protector. "I know, Father. Half of our warhorses have hoof disease. They probably won't be able to travel easily."

Upon hearing this, Liu Liangzuo froze for a moment.

Then, as if he had made up his mind, Shan Wenjia slammed his wrist guard heavily on the table, knocking over the inkstone. "Here's what we'll do: go and burn down the granary at Nanxun Gate, and say it's a peasant uprising! Then send six thousand-household garrisons to the North Gate and tell them they can retreat as long as they hold out until midnight!"

"But there are still eight thousand shi (a unit of dry measure) in the granary."

"Burn!" Liu Liangzuo's eyes revealed madness. "Let those soldiers panic. Only in chaos can we escape!"

Seeing that Liu Cheng was still hesitating, Liu Liangzuo reminded him again, "Why aren't you going yet!?"

"Oh, oh, oh." Liu Cheng hurriedly left.

By this time, it was completely dark, and the flames at the north gate were almost extinguished. Taking advantage of the situation, the vanguard of the Bordered Yellow Banner rushed into the breach, but kicked up a wine jar that was rolling all over the ground in the barbican.

The mutton stewing on the garrison's stove was still boiling, and stacks of banknotes were still on the gambling table in the arrow tower.

Forget about resistance; the Ming soldiers, dressed in tattered battle robes, ran faster than their warhorses when they saw the heavily armored Eight Banner soldiers.

Chaos erupted within the city, with residents and fleeing soldiers scattering in all directions.

Beneath the ramparts of the barbican, Captain Zhao Mazi was using his waist knife to pry open the floor tiles; he had just hidden the twenty taels of silver he had saved for his life here yesterday.

Suddenly, he saw the brocade banner of the Bordered Yellow Banner sweep past the crenellations. Startled, he hurriedly stuffed his money bag into his mouth, but Bayara, who had leaped onto the horse, sliced ​​off the money bag along with his throat.

Inside the West Water Gate Arrow Tower, three guards were fighting over a bronze Buddha, completely unaware that kerosene had already seeped into the drainage ditch and reached their feet.

In less than two hours, the brocade dragon banner of the Bordered Yellow Banner had been planted on the Drum Tower.

Forty thousand cavalrymen surged into the ancient city of Bianliang, a city spanning nine miles and thirteen steps. Their hooves trampled the Tang Dynasty paving stones of the Zhouqiao ruins, startling crows that filled the city.

Dorgon and Fan Wencheng never expected that they would capture this magnificent city with fewer than a hundred men.

Neither of them had ever seen anything more absurd. Looking at the boiling, burning city, Dorgon turned to Fan Wencheng with a half-smile, "Am I overestimating the Southern Dynasty?"

(End of this chapter)