Who killed the Ming Dynasty?

Chen Yingzong rose shakily, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and raised his arm again towards the city gate:

"Open the city gates—!"

Just as the iron bolt on the city wall clicked open, a cold shout rang out again:

"Wait!"

As if sensing the scent of blood, Wang Tingchen abruptly turned around.

"We, the people who have come through the trials of the Eight Great Kings, can't stand these pedantic, crooked scholars."

He stepped forward, his tall figure blocking out most of the light from the city gate opening.

Even if Shi Kefa were to kneel until his knees were broken to offer the Nine Bestowments, it would still depend on whether our King would grant him the honor.

Song An's eye twitched suddenly, and his heart tightened. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Chen Yingzong's hand was trembling violently.

The four men behind him, who were moving towards the city gate, suddenly froze, holding their breath.

Wang Tingchen, accompanied by two personal guards, approached step by step, and Song An could smell the alcohol on them.

"Please trouble Manager Song to bring the treasure back intact. We will obtain the golden arrow talisman from the Eighth King at the beginning of the morning in this town, and then deliver it at midnight tomorrow night."

Song An shrank his neck sharply and immediately bowed, cupping his hands in greeting:

"General, you have considered everything carefully. I will immediately move the carriages and horses to Sanliting and wait there."

Chen Yingzong let out a very soft sigh, then turned and whispered to Song An:

"Song Sanwa, it's not that Fourth Brother is unwilling to be considerate... This is the only way for now, let's just wait until tomorrow night!"

......

Meanwhile, outside the city, at the second quarter of the Yin hour...

Outside the North Gate of Chengdu, the inky darkness enveloped everything, even blurring the outline of the city walls.

Zhu Cilang's warhorse seemed to sense the urgency as well, snorting and exhaling a puff of white vapor.

He waited for the city gates to open, and every moment felt exceptionally long.

A few remaining stars flickered a few times on the eaves of the city gate tower before being completely swallowed up by the surging dark clouds.

Behind Zhu Cilang, 20,000 infantrymen stood in neat formation in the darkness.

The cold glint of weapons flashed occasionally, and even breathing was kept extremely low. Only the slight friction of armor could be heard faintly in the night, a testament to the suppressed fighting spirit.

The entire army was like a lurking beast, waiting for its prey to reveal a weakness.

Zhu Cilang pressed his hand on the hilt of his sword at his waist, feeling the cold touch in his palm, while his eyes reflected the flickering firelight on the city wall.

Suddenly, the frost-like veins on the grass blades trembled.

A black steed pierced through the fog, its hooves wrapped in cloth, and galloped swiftly with a gag in its mouth.

The night scout dismounted, stirring up a gust of cold wind.

"Reporting to the Commander-in-Chief, all camps are ready and waiting for the city gates to open!"

Zhu Cilang nodded slightly, his voice as cold as a frost blade:

"Order all battalions—armor must be worn at all times, and weapons must be in hand at all times. Wait!"

......

Meanwhile, outside the north gate of the city.

The flickering torches stained the surrounding city walls with a dancing dark red, and the light and shadow flickered on the armor of Zhou Dingchang, Zhang Wu, and others.

They had already changed into military uniforms, and before them stood the towering iron-clad city gate.

They were also waiting, waiting for the moment the city gates would open, an invisible tension filling the air.

Zhang Wu's feet were deeply embedded in the stirrups, as if trying to steady his somewhat rapid heartbeat; the iron spear shaft was damp with sweat from his palms.

Zhou Dingchang sat firmly on the saddle, seemingly calm, his knuckles gripping the goose-feather saber tightly. The red cloth on the hilt trembled slightly in the air, just like his taut nerves.

Twelve soldiers from the Beijing garrison stood with their backs against the stone wall, their waist knives drawn three inches from their sheaths.

Behind the soldiers, two thick hardwood logs were firmly wedged into the bottom groove of the sluice gate.

Besides the iron city gate, this massive gate, weighing thousands of pounds, hangs in the doorway. If it were to fall, it would completely seal off the passage, but it is currently being held firmly in place by hardwood.

Two trucks were parked across the city gate on both sides.

Zhou Dingchang tilted his head, somewhat impatiently:

"You little bastard, is the latch rusted to death?"

Zhang Wu lightly touched the ground with the tip of his iron spear:

"The mouse hasn't even left its hole yet, it's only been half an incense stick's time, what's the rush!"

Zhou Dingchang gritted his teeth and said:

"If I wait any longer, I could boil an egg inside my armor!"

......

Meanwhile, inside the north gate archway.

When Chen Yingzong said, "It's not that Fourth Brother is unwilling to be thorough," Wang Tingchen snorted disdainfully and turned to leave.

As Song An straightened his clothes, his expression changed drastically when he looked up, all traces of his previous humility gone:

"Brother Chen's kindness is truly moving; I am deeply grateful!"

Wang Tingchen walked in front, followed by two bodyguards. His shoulders seemed to stiffen almost imperceptibly, perhaps his seasoned intuition from years of battle made him sense the murderous intent behind him.

But it was too late.

The moment Song An swung his left hand down, the killing had already begun silently.

The four men, like lurking black panthers, pounced almost simultaneously, their movements so fast that only afterimages remained.

On the left, Wang Erhu, the henchman, suddenly grabbed a soldier by the neck. As he swung his short blade horizontally, the sound of the blade cutting through flesh was slight yet piercing.

At the same time, another man on the right was slitting the throat of another person with his knife.

Before the two bodies could fall to the ground, they were silently brought down by knees that were already prepared.

The splattered blood grazed Song An's fingers and splashed onto the city wall, only to be swallowed up by the third watch drum sounding from the corner tower of the barbican.

Just as Wang Tingchen noticed the commotion behind him, two veterans from Nanjing under Song An were already close behind.

One man strangled the neck with his arm, while another plunged a dagger diagonally into the heart through the third rib. The movements were clean and swift, clearly those of an experienced fighter.

The general's body, hidden beneath his python robe, twitched only halfway, forever suppressing the unspoken rebuke.

Everything happened in an instant!

A drop of blood fell from Song An's fingertip onto the blue brick. He felt his heart pounding wildly in his chest, almost bursting out of his chest.

Chen Yingzong was so terrified by the carnage before him that he was momentarily stunned and unable to react.

He made a "hoarse" sound in his throat, as if he were being choked, and staggered back several steps before crashing into the city wall and coming to a stop.

"Song, Song San, you...you..."

He trembled as he reached for the goose-feathered sword at his waist, only to find his hand covered in blood—the very blood splattered by Wang Tingchen, now slowly trickling down his armor plates.

"Whoosh!"

The ten city guards behind him instantly drew their swords!

The blade reflected the flickering torchlight, casting a chilling shadow on Song An's face.

Chen Yingzong's voice cracked, his question trembling with tears:

"Song San...you...you've gone mad! You're going to kill my entire family of twelve!"

Ten city guards, their eyes bloodshot, slowly approached, swords raised, exuding murderous intent. Their gazes swept between Song An and his group, awaiting an order.

In the instant the two daggers flashed, the two Nanjing veterans' eyes hardened, and they prepared to pounce again. On the left, Wang Erhu's thumb was on the hidden arrow mechanism.

A deadly situation is about to erupt!

"Wait a minute—!"

Song An shouted, and the approaching blade suddenly stopped. The soldiers instinctively looked at Chen Yingzong.

"Fourth Brother Chen!"

Song An strode forward and grabbed Chen Yingzong.

"The garrison commander died at the gate tower where you were on duty. Your armor is splattered with the garrison's blood. Do you think you can escape responsibility?"

Just then, torches suddenly lit up in the distance, and a small patrol was heading towards the city gate.

Chen Yingzong was clearly frightened, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.

Song An flicked his sleeve and pointed towards the dark outside the city:

"To tell you the truth, the 100,000-strong royal army is right outside the north gate! When the city falls, the first to hang himself will be the gatekeeper—"

He suddenly grabbed Chen Yingzong's wrist.

"If we open the gates to welcome the royal army, Fourth Brother's python robe... might just be exchanged for a scarlet robe!"

Chen Yingzong's gaze swept over Wang Tingchen's corpse on the ground, then he suddenly looked up at the firelight of the patrol team in the distance.

Blood was flowing down to the tips of his boots, and he said, trembling:

"That Song Sanwa who swore an oath while touching the bronze ram at Qingyang Palace back then... he's long dead!"

Chen Yingzong grabbed Song An's shirt and cried as he said:

"We agreed it was just a clandestine smuggling operation under curfew... now they want my whole family dead!"

"Splash—Snap!"

The clanging of metal came from the corner tower of the barbican, and the patrol team's torches had already turned past the last street corner.

Time is running out.