How can one be Emperor Chongzhen without money?

Chapter 222 Turbulent Times Rise in Liaodong, Wei Zhongxian Arrives

In the third year of Chongzhen's reign, at the end of July, at the rocky beach north of the Jinzhou Isthmus.

As autumn arrives, the sky appears higher and the clouds thinner, with most of the time the sky being cloudless and empty.

This rocky beach was surprisingly lively.

"boom!"

A muffled thud shook the ground. A six-pound shell slammed into the low earthen wall a hundred paces away, tearing off a large chunk. Immediately, howls and screams erupted from behind the wall.

"Boom! Boom!" Two more shots rang out. The earthen wall shook, the breach widened, and clods of earth tumbled down.

Huang Degong squatted behind a shovel, squinting as he stared intently ahead.

"Well done! Don't be stingy with gunpowder, keep blasting that hole! Bring up the general's cannon too, switch to shotgun shells, and let the Tartars behind the wall have a good time!" He roared at the top of his lungs, his voice filled with fervor.

"General!" A sentry ran over, crouching low. "Those fake barbarians have learned their lesson and are hiding behind the wall! But there's movement next to the stubble field on the left where the sorghum has been cut. There are figures moving around. They should be reinforcements from Gaizhou and Haizhou. There are quite a few of them, and there are even some real Manchu banners among them!"

Huang Degong didn't even lift his eyelids. "I've been banging drums and gongs here to lure them out, haven't I? How many real slaves have come?"

"Judging from the flags and armor, there is at most one Niru (a military unit), and there are probably thirty to fifty real slaves in armor. The rest look like bondservants. The leader is a strong man who looks like a bear and looks quite fierce."

"Heh," Huang Degong sneered, "Daishan, you old dog, are you willing to throw out your guard slaves to make a show of force? Good! Pass on the order! The musketeers in front, keep a close watch on the edge of the sorghum stubble field, suppress them, don't let them rush out comfortably! Pikemen, move forward twenty paces and form ranks! Swordsmen, protect the flanks! Cavalrymen, prepare your horses, draw your swords, and listen to my command!"

The command flag waved, and the deep sound of the drums rose, drowning out the wind.

The Ming troops, who had been scattered and on guard, immediately sprang into action. The four hundred musketeers were divided into four groups and quickly deployed in front of the formation, forming three rows. The first row crouched down, resting their muskets on the earthen embankment; the second row bent over; and the third row stood, all pointing their muskets at the barren sorghum stubble field.

Immediately following, the main force of a thousand spearmen moved forward with heavy steps, kicking up dust from the dry ground. Their thirteen-foot-long spears pointed diagonally forward, their densely packed tips gleaming blindingly in the autumn sun, a sight that sent chills down one's spine. Two hundred shield bearers followed closely on either side of the spearmen, their shields protecting their bodies, their swords gleaming.

Just as the formation stabilized, a chorus of strange howls erupted from the sorghum stubble field, and two or three hundred men surged out in a dark mass. Most were Han Chinese bannermen in tattered cotton armor, brandishing sabers and tiger spears, surging forward in a chaotic frenzy, like a swarm of wasps disturbed. Among the ranks were dozens of Jurchen cavalrymen in dark red cotton armor and red helmets, each with a fierce expression. The leader, a Niru Ejen, brandished a thick-backed cleaver, howling as he charged at the very front.

"Hold your ground! Listen to my command!" The sergeant's shout cleaved through the sweltering air.

The Han army's bannermen charged in a chaotic manner, advancing within fifty paces, kicking up clouds of dust.

"First column, move out!"

Bang bang bang bang!
Thick white smoke billowed from the muskets in the front row, and lead bullets flew like water being poured out. The bondservants at the forefront fell like wheat being harvested, and screams of agony immediately rang out.

"Second column, move it!"

Another burst of gunfire, like popping beans, filled the air, and the smell of gunpowder filled the air.

The true slaves were indeed fierce and brave. Taking advantage of the smoke and dust on the battlefield, they charged forward. Occasionally, a lead bullet would knock down one or two of them, but it couldn't stop their frenzied advance. The Niru Ejen was especially ferocious, swinging his sword as he charged, as if he could knock lead bullets away.

Forty steps, thirty steps! They could even see the other person's ferocious expression clearly.

"General's cannon, fire!" Huang Degong roared.

The two general's cannons positioned at the edge of the formation opened fire, hurling shrapnel like a giant iron broom, sweeping down layers of approaching enemy soldiers. The Han army's formation was completely thrown into chaos, with soldiers crying out in despair.

Twenty steps!
"Long spear! Flat spear!" the centurion, the spear whistleman, shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice distorted.

A thousand spears were laid flat in unison, instantly forming a forest of death before the enemy lines. The cold spear tips pointed at the charging enemies, the shafts trembling slightly.

"Shield bearers! Protect the musketeers!" another officer shouted.

The swordsmen rushed forward and used their shields to protect the musketeer, who was nervously loading ammunition and was covered in sweat.

The few genuine slave cavalrymen at the forefront, perhaps blinded by the billowing smoke, lost their footing and watched helplessly as their horses crashed into the hail of spears. Some tried to rein in their horses, but were rammed by those behind them, throwing them to the ground. The spearmen roared in unison, thrusting forward with all their might, the sounds of spears piercing flesh accompanied by agonizing screams.

That Niru'e was truly ferocious; he parried two long spears, actually managing to create an opening, and charged in with several armored soldiers. But he was facing the swordsmen and shield bearers who had been waiting for him.

"Surround him! Chop him down!" The scout with the swordsman brandished his short sword.

Several swordsmen immediately pushed forward with their shields, while their comrades behind them viciously thrust their swords out from the gaps in the shields. The Niru Ejen fought hard to cut down a Ming soldier, but was stabbed in the ribs by a sword thrust from the side. He roared, staggered a few steps, and was immediately hacked down by the flurry of swords.

The enemies rushing out from the edge of the woods were firmly blocked by muskets and spear formations, and the few genuine slaves who managed to break through were quickly dealt with by the swordsmen. The offensive immediately faltered.

Huang Degong seized the opportunity, drew his saber, and pointed it sharply forward: "Cavalry! Charge them!"

The hundred cavalrymen, who had been holding back for a long time, charged out from behind the lines, their hooves kicking up clouds of dust as they plunged into the chaotic enemy flank. Their sabers flashed coldly in the autumn sun. The remaining Han army banners and Zhennu soldiers collapsed completely, crying out as they fled into the sorghum stubble fields, leaving behind only corpses and churning yellow earth.

The battlefield quickly quieted down, leaving only the suppressed groans of the wounded and the faint sound of the wind blowing through the tips of guns. The air was filled with the smells of gunpowder, blood, and earth.

Huang Degong stepped out of the earthen mound, treading on the scorching pebbles and fallen corpses, and arrived at the front of the battle. He looked at the mess on the ground, especially the several corpses wearing high-quality red cotton armor, and spat.

"Clean up the battlefield! Cut off the heads of the real slaves and the fake barbarian leaders, find a long pole, and hang them in a conspicuous place! Let that old dog Daishan see clearly how his sons died!"

……

A few days later, in Shengjing.

Inside a side hall of the Khan's Palace.

Daishan sat in the main seat, his large body sunken into the chair, his face so gloomy it seemed to drip with sweat. He held a bloodstained urgent report in his fingers, his knuckles white from gripping it so tightly. It was sent overnight from Gaizhou by his son, Shuo Tuo, reporting that a Niru Ejen had been killed in battle, and dozens of Eight Banner soldiers had perished on the rocky beach. The report stated that the Ming general Huang Degong's troops were equipped with powerful firearms and had an unusual formation, clearly not ordinary soldiers.

“Huang Degong… Imperial Guard…” Dai Shan squeezed out these words through clenched teeth, his chest tight with urgency. He looked up at the two people sitting below.

On the left is Bao Chengxian, a thin man with a long face, dressed in Manchu clothing, exuding shrewdness. He was left behind by Huang Taiji to assist Daishan; he was clever and often gave the Grand Prince advice.

On the right is Wei Qi, in charge of the defense of the eight gates of Shengjing. He has a dark face and a burly build; he is a fierce general. He is frowning, looking somewhat impatient.

"Take a look, all of you." Daishan pushed the urgent report forward, his voice a little hoarse. Wei Qi grabbed the document first, glanced at it briefly, and said in a gruff voice, "Your Highness! The Ming dogs are too arrogant! Send your men south to join forces with Prince Heshuotuo, and we'll definitely wring Huang Degong's head off!"

Bao Chengxian took the document, examined it carefully, and slowly put it down after a long while, saying in a deep voice, "Your Highness, this matter... is probably not simple."

"What do you mean?" Dai Shan looked at him sharply.

Bao Chengxian pointed to the map spread out on the table: "In the south, Huang Degong launched a fierce attack on Gaizhou, making a great commotion. In the east, on Jianghua Island, Ma Chengen's Korean Ming army has gathered, with many warships, and is poised to cross the Jianghua waterway. On the coast, scouts in places like Changsheng Island and Xuancheng have reported seeing a large number of Ming ships."

He raised his head, a hint of worry in his eyes: "The Ming army is making moves everywhere, seemingly a full-scale offensive, but the commotion is too great, making it seem fake. I think this is probably... a feint."

"A feint attack?" Wei Qi's eyes widened. "Attack where? Western Liaoning? Ajige is there!"

Bao Chengxian's finger didn't point towards western Liaoning, but slowly moved downwards, pointing heavily near the mouth of the Liao River: "This is what I'm worried about. The Ming army is making such a big show of force, perhaps to cover a surprise attack, which will land here and directly penetrate into the heart of our Liaoshen region!"

Dai Shan's eyelids twitched violently. Wei Qi also gasped: "Mao Wenlong?!"

"Mao Wenlong of Dongjiang is familiar with the sea routes and loves to use such risky tactics," Bao Chengxian said confidently. "If he succeeds, Liaoyang and Shenyang will be shaken, and that would be terrible!"

Daishan abruptly stood up and paced back and forth in the hall, the floorboards creaking under his feet. He was filled with both shock and anger. Huang Degong in the south was truly attacking, and Mao Wenlong might also come from the sea. Shengjing was currently depleted of troops, what if… But what worried him most was the news coming from within the Great Wall—the Great Khan seemed to have suffered a defeat and was now digging up the ancestral tombs of the Ming emperors to vent his anger.

He stopped, looked at Wei Qi, and said firmly, "Wei Qi!"

"The slave is here!"

"Keep a close watch on the eight gates of Shengjing! Do not let Mao Wenlong's spies infiltrate! Send out more scouts to investigate the Liaohe River estuary and Haizhou area. Report back immediately if anything seems amiss!"

"Yes, sir!" Wei Qi accepted the order and quickly left.

Dai Shan then looked at Bao Chengxian: "Mr. Bao, you are meticulous. Pay close attention to news from all sides, especially... the words of those Han soldiers and bondservants."

“This servant understands,” Bao Chengxian bowed and replied.

“Huang Degong… Mao Wenlong…” Dai Shan murmured these two names, feeling that if one fire started in the south, another might really come from the sea.

As the Heshuo Beile who stayed behind in Shengjing, he had never felt such a heavy burden on his shoulders.

……

The sea was pitch black.

There were no lights, no sound, only the waves lapping against the side of the boat.

Mao Wenlong stood at the bow of the lead boat, like a nail driven into the ground.

Behind him were dozens of boats of various sizes, packed with people. His old guard of Dongjiang soldiers, eight thousand of them, were all holding their breath.

On the northern horizon, a brief flash of light was followed by a muffled thud. That was Huang Degong firing cannons.

Mao Wenlong glanced back and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"General Huang is beating his drums quite loudly," he whispered to Mao Chengdou beside him.

Mao Chengdou, young, had a tense expression: "Father, shall we leave now?"

"Let's go." Mao Wenlong placed his hand on the Shangfang sword at his waist, the cool hilt giving him a sense of security. "Huang Degong has kept the dogs in check for us, Ma Chengen is making a scene in the east, and the Zheng family's ship is rocking at sea. Now is the perfect time for us to raid their lair."

He turned around, looked at the dark mass of ships, and raised his voice.

"Men! That old dog Huang Taiji isn't home. Let's go to his den! Set it on fire, kill a few Tartars, and let him know that this land of Liaodong is not for him, the Tartar leader, to call the shots!"

No one was shouting slogans, but pairs of eyes were shining in the darkness.

"Set sail! Let's go!"

The order was given, and one by one, the ships raised their sails and, under the cover of night, silently sailed into the vast sea.

……

At the same time, a group of people arrived outside the city gate of Shunyi County.

A dozen or so large carts and dozens of guards surrounded a sedan chair carried by eight men.

The sedan chair stopped, the curtain was lifted, and an old eunuch in a python robe stepped out. His face was fair and clean, and although he was old and wrinkled, his gaze sent chills down one's spine.

A guard quickly jogged forward, knelt on one knee, and said, "This humble general greets Eunuch Wei!"

The one who arrived was none other than Wei Zhongxian, the Grand Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial.

Wei Zhongxian grunted, his voice high-pitched: "Get up. Is everything arranged in the city?"

"Reporting to Father-in-law, everything is arranged! The best courtyard has been prepared for you!"

Wei Zhongxian raised his head and looked west towards Changping. The sunset on the horizon was a fiery red, like blood.

A half-smile appeared on his face.

“Huang Taiji… This humble servant has arrived. I’d like to see just how big your appetite is, you Khan of the Later Jin.”

He straightened his python robe and said slowly, "Get in the sedan chair and head into the city. Tomorrow, we'll go and meet that Khan."

(End of this chapter)