Who killed the Ming Dynasty?

The cavalrymen used their long-handled swords to cleave the support pillars of the watchtowers, and the cracking sounds of breaking wood echoed throughout the area.

In no time, the outpost was cleared, and more than twenty Western Army corpses lay scattered on the ground.

"Report—!"

The scout spurred his horse forward and reported loudly:

"Smoke signals are being lit at the Lao Jun Guan beacon tower!"

Zhou Dingchang flicked the blood off his knife and looked up to see three plumes of crimson smoke rising from the mountaintop.

"What's the panic? The commander-in-chief anticipated this move!"

He raised his sword and pointed it in the direction of the beacon fire.

"Don't even mention three wisps of smoke, even if a rocket flew up to the Heavenly Palace—it wouldn't make a difference."

He kicked aside the broken arrows at his feet, his tone resolute:

"The chimneys of the seven beacon towers ahead have probably been pierced by now."

Before he finished speaking, he had already strode towards the yellow horse, mounted it, and his Sichuan accent suddenly rose in pitch:

"Damn it! Which bastard dares to fall behind? I'll personally equip his horse with an iron bit. Let's race!"

Zhou Dingchang's troops sped away, and the northern defenses returned to peace.

As dusk settled, Zhang Wu's two thousand light cavalry swept across like a black tide, treading over charred wooden fences and dilapidated watchtowers, without disturbing the last wisp of smoke rising from the mountaintop.

After galloping for ten miles, Zhou Dingchang suddenly tightened the reins, and the warhorse stopped in its tracks.

Three miles away, the torches of the Xindu Horse Inspection Station flickered in the darkness. Outside the checkpoints set up by the Great Western Army, three towering wooden fences stood prominently.

"Listen up, you bastards!"

He slapped the saddle with the back of his knife, making a loud thud.

"The three layers of wooden railings in front are arranged in a zigzag pattern. Any fool who dares to charge straight in will become a live target for the three-eyed gun. There are also hidden 'horse-falling ropes' in front of the formation."

His gaze swept across the queue, settling on one person:

"Wang Ermazi, you tell me, how do we break the horse-fall rope?"

Wang Ermazi, whose name was called, replied with his neck stiff:

"Reporting to the commander, run faster, or... use a knife?"

"I'll chop you up, you little rascal!"

Zhou Dingchang spat, and just then, the sound of a night patrol clapper suddenly came from the direction of the horse inspection station, and everyone held their breath.

He lowered his voice only after the noise subsided:

"That thing is soaked in oil, so it's very tough. When a horse gets going, it springs up with a 'whoosh,' and the horse's leg will break if it hits it."

He said no more, pulled a piece of black hemp rope from his saddlebag and swung it in front of Wang Ermazi. The iron barbs on the rope made the new recruits gasp.

"This rope that causes a horse to fall is used to pull the copper bell rope when the cavalry charges through the fence. Not to mention the horse's legs, even the Iron Pagoda would have to kneel down and gnaw on the mud."

Wang Ermazi's face paled in surprise, and he subconsciously touched his leg.

Zhou Dingchang smiled and said:

"The cunning Western thief has become shrewd. He has arranged a triple rope to trip a horse, with the three elements of 'Heaven, Earth, and Man' in place. The first rope trips the horse's hooves, the second wraps around the horse's belly, and the third strangles the rider's neck."

The back of the knife suddenly snapped Wang Ermazi out of his daze.

"If you can't remember it, then remember it well—the fallen horse Suok heavy cavalry, the long sword formation breaks the fallen rope, the types of troops complement and counter each other, it's harder to untangle than a woman's belt."

Wang Ermazi nodded:

"Got it!"

The warhorses pawed restlessly at the ground beneath their hooves, while five hundred light cavalrymen gripped their longswords tightly.

"Wang Ermazi! Bring me that set of horse-testing flags from the Western bandits!"

The sound of tearing fabric echoed in the darkness as ten tattered Big Dipper flags were torn into strips.

Zhou Dingchang grabbed a handful of mud and smeared it on the flag:

"When I yell 'Fall from the horse,' I'll throw these shrouds onto the falling horse formation and that mechanism, and jam them."

The procession moved forward silently when suddenly, three bonfires lit up in the direction of the "Xindu Horse Inspection Station".

A scarred man's Sichuan accent pierced through the river mist:

"Which stable's horse is this? Daring to sneak into the horse inspection station at night!"

"A cavalryman under General Sun's command!"

Zhou Dingchang spurred his horse, sending it charging forward. The flag unfurled, revealing the dark pattern of the Big Dipper.

"Those bastards from Chongqing raided the horse ranch, I'm going back to defend Chengdu!"

He shouted with such conviction, as if it were the truth.

The cedar fence creaked and groaned as twelve Western Army soldiers emerged from the zigzag passage, carrying hook-and-sickle spears.

Zhou Dingchang's pupils contracted sharply. The outermost sentry had the copper bell rope wrapped around his waist, which was used to control the fall from the horse.

"Raise the command flag high!"

Scarface, the captain, demanded an explanation in a stern voice, his eyes bloodshot from the campfire.

The guards behind Zhou Dingchang unfurled the flag with a "whoosh," revealing the pattern of three dippers and four spoons.

A Western Army sentry stepped forward, his hooked spear tip already gripping the corner of the flag, and checked against the campfire whether the asterisk was inlaid with dark gold silk.

"brand!"

Scarface suddenly roared.

Zhou Dingchang slammed his boot heel against the horse's belly, causing the warhorse to turn to the side in pain, revealing its left rump. The fresh "Sun" character scar from the branding iron was clearly visible, and the outline of the old scar beneath the scab was still faintly discernible.

"The password for 5:45 PM?"

The Western Army scout pressed for answers, his right hand already resting on the copper bell rope at his waist.

In that split second, Zhou Dingchang suddenly burst into a Sichuan opera-like clapper tune:

"Fell from horseback—!"

Ten "blood flags" flew out in response, heading straight for the rope that led to the fall.

Almost simultaneously, twelve taut ropes for falling horses burst from the ground.

Zhou Dingchang's yellow horse reared up again, and the flagpole of the battle flag precisely caught in the knot. The five ropes that had caused the horse to fall were wrapped around the ankles of the Western Army sentries.

"Your mom sells fried dough twists!"

Just as the scarred captain's three-eyed musket sparked, Zhou Dingchang's Mo Dao squad had already leaped over the falling horse formation.

With a few breaths, the five-foot-long broadsword cleaved through the twelve corpses of the Western Army, nailing them to the corner of the zigzag passage.

"Blood spurting!"

Zhou Dingchang shoved the embroidered spring knife back into the saddle, then picked up two bulging bags of kerosene and poured them out along the fence.

The pungent smell of kerosene immediately filled the air.

"Boom! Boom!"

Two loud explosions rang out, and flames shot into the air. The cedar wood, soaked in kerosene, ignited instantly, and the zigzag passage of the triple fence was transformed into a fire tornado.

Wang Ermazi led fifty cavalrymen diagonally southwest, clearing the way with long-handled swords.

Zhou Dingchang's yellow horse neighed and crashed through the burning fence. With a swift flick of his embroidered spring knife, he sent a sentry carrying a three-eyed musket flying.

Scarface's eyes gushed blood and tears in the firelight. Before he could even raise his mace, his throat had already been pierced by the Embroidered Spring Blade.

"Fuck your ancestors!"

Using the torch he had lit, Zhou Dingchang set fire to a nearby tent. Flames shot into the sky, illuminating his blood-soaked armor.

He felt a burning pleasure.

In a short time, the Xindu Horse Inspection Station was completely destroyed in fire and blood.

The air was filled with the smell of roasting and burning meat.

Zhou Dingchang raised his sword and pointed it towards Chengdu:

"You bastards, try and race me through Xindu!"

"Report—!"

Wang Ermazi's broadsword was planted on the ground, his body covered in blood.

"I killed 187 bastards...and three escaped."

As Zhang Wu's light cavalry trampled across the still-smoking scorched earth, Zhou Dingchang was squatting on a burning wooden fence, gnawing on half-cooked horse meat.

He casually wiped his face, and half-dried scabs mixed with cigarette ash fell off in a flurry.

He didn't even look up, yet he exuded an iron-like confidence:

"He's running away like a shovel. Once he crosses the Ma Ta Well, you'll see the corpses of those three bastards."