Who killed the Ming Dynasty?

Ma Qian took a deep breath, cupped his hands, and stepped forward:

"The Commander-in-Chief is wise. Although Chengdu has fallen, the rebels' base is not yet secure—"

My finger suddenly poked a spot on the map.

"There are still two thousand garrison troops at Xiaoquanchang who have not surrendered. They can be ordered to keep fires day and night as a diversionary tactic."

Before he finished speaking, his fingertip had already traced a line towards eastern Sichuan, and his speech quickened.

"We should immediately dispatch 2,000 troops from Zeng Ying's Sichuan East Army, 5,000 troops from Qin Liangyu's White Spear Army, and order General Hou Tianxi to lead 4,000 Baoning troops to our aid overnight."

Suddenly, he clenched his fist and slammed it heavily on the table.

"Add two thousand local militiamen to Shunqingwei, and you can have thirteen thousand elite soldiers. Then, by joining forces with the central army of the commander-in-chief, you will have a force of forty thousand."

"At that time, we will set up camps on all sides, advancing step by step. Even if the bandits number 100,000, they will be divided and annihilated by our army."

The last word fell with a resounding thud, and the hall fell silent for a moment.

Zhu Cilang's gaze followed Ma Qian's finger to the map.

"Xiaoquanchang" caught Zhu Cilang's attention. This inconspicuous strategic point was like a wedge driven into the north of Chengdu, only a hundred miles away.

He struck the "Xiaoquanchang" spot heavily with the hilt of his sword:

"Although Ma Antai's strategy is good, a strong attack on Chengdu with 40,000 troops may lead to a prolonged siege and a shortage of supplies..."

Before the words were finished—

"Snapped!"

Zhou Dingchang slammed his hand on the table again, making the teacups jump around.

The dampness from the lingering autumn rain, mixed with the smell of gunpowder and sulfur, flooded the hall, startling the greenbottle flies that had been perched beside the map.

He grinned and sneered:

"The commander-in-chief forbids this and that—does he really intend to follow the example of Duke Xiang of Song, waiting until the eight kings have arrayed their battle formations and sounded the horns before we write to request permission to fight?"

Before he finished speaking, he had already grabbed the short knife from the table.

"This humble general is a mere warrior, utterly ignorant of such intricacies!"

"If the commander-in-chief is afraid of taking responsibility, then give me two thousand elite soldiers! If we succeed, it's because of the commander-in-chief's strategic planning; if we fail—"

With a flash of light, the blade pierced the two characters "Chengdu" on the map.

"Is my filthy head enough to explain to the imperial court?"

Zhu Cilang turned abruptly, his sword sheath pointing directly at the northwest of Chengdu:

"This governor will not emulate Duke Xiang of Song—he should emulate Huo Qubing!"

He clapped his hands at the Xiaoquanchang location.

"This commander personally led 18,000 troops to secretly relocate to Xiaoquanchang, while General Zhou led 4,000 of his own troops as a surprise force."

He suddenly clenched his five fingers, grasping Guanghan and Xindu, north of Chengdu, into his palm.

The voice was firm and resolute:

"On the third day of the ninth month, at the third quarter of the Yin hour—passing through Guanghan and Xindu, we headed straight for the north gate of Chengdu."

"No banners! No war drums! This commander will descend from the heavens like a demon, launch a night raid on Chengdu, and slay Zhang Xianzhong!"

Lightning struck outside the hall, illuminating Zhu Cilang's youthful and sharp features.

Ma Qian, dressed in mourning clothes, fluttered violently in the lightning. He took a half-step forward and shouted hoarsely:

"Commander, please reconsider! This plan is far too risky!"

He abruptly turned to Lian Guoshi, the silent Vice Minister of War.

"Young Marshal, please say something!"

Lian Guoshi stepped forward, leaning slightly forward, and said urgently:

"The Grand Marshal shall sit with his banner in Shunqing Prefecture!"

He jabbed his finger sharply at the peacock pattern on his robe, his voice resolute.

"Let this old minister go. I'll just bury my bones when I'm done, but the Grand Commander is the pillar of the Ming Dynasty."

"The grain transport for the five prefectures and thirteen counties in central Sichuan still depends on your golden seal and tally, and the pay for the 200,000 border troops still awaits your purple-flowered imperial edict."

"Ha ha--"

No sooner had he finished speaking than Zhou Dingchang suddenly pounded his armor and burst into wild laughter:

"Young Sima has misjudged!"

"The commander's move, 'Black Tiger Claws the Heart,' is exactly what I like."

"Back then, Qi Jiguang dared to storm the Japanese pirates' lair with only three thousand soldiers. If the commander-in-chief wants to be like Huo Qubing, then I will be his vanguard officer."

Lian Guoshi stepped forward hastily and said:

"The rebels have a large force stationed in Chengdu! What if..."

"A tactic to lure the tiger away from the mountain!"

Zhu Cilang interrupted Lian Guo's affairs, the tip of his sword already pointing towards eastern Sichuan:

"Zeng Ying's troops raised the red flag, Qin Liangyu raised the white banner, Hou Tianxi raised the Baoning Army banner, and Wang Yingxiong of Zunyi led three hundred warships up the Jialing River, making a great show of force to launch an eastward expedition to Chongqing."

Seven days before Zhu Cilang set out from Nanjing, he sent a secret edict by swift cavalry, ordering Prince Yingxiong of Zunyi to prepare his army for a swearing-in ceremony on the first day of the ninth month, with banners covering the sun and drums and horns shaking the heavens, in a feigned attack on Chongqing.

"The commander's tactic of setting fire to the mountain to lure the tiger out is brilliant!"

Zhou Dingchang slapped the armored vehicle so hard it clanged loudly:

"This humble general will now lead the men into Xiaoquan Field. We'll wait for General Zeng's warships to beat drums as they pass Chaotian Gate—"

"Once the rebel general Xian sends troops to relieve the siege, making the Eighth Prince believe that the main force of eastern Sichuan has been deployed, that will be the time for me to march straight for Chengdu!"

The blade suddenly spun around, pointing at "Chengdu," its killing intent palpable.

"This humble general will personally carry the commander-in-chief's flag and charge into battle!"

"Back when Qi Shaobao attacked Hengyu Island, he dared to tie a gunpowder barrel to the front of the tide—Commander-in-Chief, watch as your humble general blows Zhang Xianzhong's lair to dust."

Zhu Cilang's sword sheath was torn open between Xiaoquan and Chengdu:

"General Zhou's most urgent task is to scout out the routes to every pass—"

The tip of the sheath pierced heavily into the "Guanghan" position.

"From Xiaoquan to Guanghan, a thirty-mile valley, and from Xindu to the north gate of Chengdu, a fifty-mile official road, I want you to know better than the lines on your palm which section can be used to hide troops and which mountain can be used to set up cannons."

Ma Qian's mourning clothes trembled, his heart burning with worry:

"If...if our whereabouts are exposed, and at the third quarter of the morning, the beacon fires suddenly light up the city walls, wouldn't...wouldn't we lose everything?"

Zhu Cilang suddenly reversed his hand and gripped his sword.

"Ma Antai is a thorough thinker."

He turned around abruptly.

"General Zhou!"

"Your subordinate is here!"

"That night, seven layers of hidden sentries were set up along the eighty-mile route—any bandits or scouts were annihilated!"

A pale white bolt of lightning ripped through the sky, instantly illuminating Zhou Dingchang's profile.

In the light, the old scar on his forehead throbbed, a mark left from countless life-or-death battles, now steaming with fighting spirit in the silence before the storm.

He clasped his hands in a fist salute and replied in a deep voice:

"Rest assured, Commander!"

"This humble general personally selected veteran soldiers to ambush them with three layers of crossbows along a thirty-mile stretch of valley, and deployed four teams of scouts with nooses along a fifty-mile stretch of official road."

"We will surely ensure that those scouts and bandits never return, becoming lost souls along the way."

Zhu Cilang slammed the scabbard heavily onto the floor tiles with a backhand motion:

Even if a few escaped...

He suddenly turned his head, looking out at the surging wind and rain outside the hall.

"I'd like to see whether his scouts are faster or my iron cavalry is faster!"

"The Commander-in-Chief should reconsider..."

Lian Guoshi, the Vice Minister of War, was about to step forward to speak.

"Young Marshal!"

Zhu Cilang's voice cut off Lian Guoshi's worries.

Lian Guoshi's clouded old eyes suddenly cleared, and he straightened his back:

"This old minister awaits your command!"

"Ma Antai!"

"Your subject is here!"

Ma Qian's jade belt slipped half an inch as he bowed.

Zhu Cilang pointed to the direction of Chongqing:

"You two are hereby ordered to lead two thousand local militia, armed with the imperial decree and imperial edict, and proceed with great fanfare along the south bank of the Jialing River—"

He suddenly grabbed the command flag from the desk and threw it into the rain.

"Just say you're on imperial orders to reinforce Chongqing. If you encounter any Western bandit scouts along the way, beat the war drums until the sky is high!"

"Yes, sir!"

The cold dew formed from the autumn rain pierced down like icy needles.

The large banner with the character "Ming" hanging high outside the hall is still fluttering in the rain.

Under the banner, warhorses pawed at each other, turning the red soil into a bloody pulp.