Who killed the Ming Dynasty?

"Brother Chen, you're a smart man!"

Song An pressed down on Chen Yingzong's shoulder and shook him, as if trying to bring him to his senses.

"You've calculated the pros and cons far better than I have. A blood-stained robe means the extermination of your clan; open city gates mean being granted a title!"

A short, sharp sound escaped his throat.

"The royal army of 100,000 broke through the city gates... in the blink of an eye."

"Quickly! Order the door to open!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than the sounds of laughter and chatter from the patrol team drifted over from afar, mingled with the clanging of armor, growing ever closer.

Song An took out the bronze plaque bearing the inscription "Chengdu Guard Commander's Night Patrol" and the letter from his pocket, and placed them in Chen Yingzong's palm.

He gripped that trembling hand and pressed it down hard:

"Quickly, give the order! Any hesitation, and we'll both be dead in an instant!"

The patrol's footsteps shook the blue bricks, and the centurion's roar pierced the night:

"Who is under the city?"

Without hesitation, Song An waved his hand, and four soldiers from the Beijing Garrison rushed towards the patrol.

Chen Yingzong held the copper plaque and the envelope, his throat bobbing. In the torchlight, the red tassel on the patrolman's helmet was clearly visible.

"Open the city gates!"

With bloodshot eyes, Chen Yingzong finally made his decision. He roared with all his might, startling several crows from the top of the watchtower.

In that instant before the roar had faded away!

Song An darted out like a leopard, his short sword flashing from its leather sheath as he charged straight at the ranks of red-tasseled iron-helmeted soldiers.

The iron bolts on the city wall clicked open again, and the last bolt was released.

Ten soldiers guarding the city shouted in unison as they braced themselves against the iron-clad gate, the hinges creaking loudly.

As the hinges creaked and turned, the two-zhang-tall iron-clad door slowly retreated, and moonlight shone through the three-inch-wide crack in the door, illuminating the three elm wood door bars that stretched across the doorway.

"ignition--!"

As Zhou Dingchang saw the city gates gradually opening, a resolute glint flashed in his eyes, and he roared an order.

The two trucks parked at the city gate were instantly set ablaze, and towering flames illuminated the north gate as bright as day.

Holding an iron spear, Zhang Wu was the first to rush into the city gate, which was not yet fully open.

Zhou Dingchang drew his goose-feather saber with a clang, spurred his horse's flanks, and followed Zhang Wu into the cave.

Twelve soldiers from the Beijing garrison filed in through the door crack like arrows released from a bow. The blood grooves on their waist knives reflected the flickering torches, giving them a scarlet glow.

Three miles away, Zhu Cilang suddenly pulled on the reins, and the warhorse reared up.

The flames that burst forth at the distant city gate reflected on his fish-scale armor, the plates still stained with the reeds he had crossed the river the day before.

"Reporting to the Commander-in-Chief, flames are raging on both sides of the North Gate."

The night watchman, with three pheasant feathers tucked into his back, dismounted and reported the news.

Zhu Cilang gripped his riding whip tightly, gazing at the fiery dragon rising from the city gate:

"At the third quarter of the hour of Yin (3:45 AM), light a fire as a signal—"

His deep voice suddenly rose in pitch:

"All troops—move out!"

The dark cloak billowed angrily in the night wind with a "whoosh".

The whip in the hand of Lieutenant General Wang Jing cracked in mid-air.

Three thousand iron cavalrymen awoke like a sleeping behemoth, their thunderous hooves shaking the earth.

Horse hooves trampled across the Chengdu Plain, startling owls that roosted in the reeds.

As Zhu Cilang waved his command flag, the vanguard battalion charged straight toward the north gate like an arrow released from a bow. His young face showed no emotion, only a hint of tense killing intent.

The city gate tunnel instantly transformed into a battlefield of carnage.

Zhang Wu's black horse was the first to crash into the city gate, and his iron spear swept out horizontally.

With a crisp "crack," the patrolman at the forefront was sent flying through the air, shield and all, and crashed into the city wall, the sound of bones shattering clearly audible.

Zhou Dingchang's goose-feather saber transformed into a rolling halo of deathly light, tearing armor apart and sending blood and flesh flying wherever it passed. The piercing screams drowned out all other noises.

Twelve soldiers from the Beijing garrison followed closely behind, slashing and thrusting with their swords and spears, like tigers among sheep. Under this fierce attack, the patrol was forced to retreat step by step.

As Zhang Wu spurred his horse out of the gate and once again sent a patrolling soldier flying inside the barbican...

Song An's short knife had become blunt and stuck in the collarbone of a patrolman. Blood flowed down the hand that held the knife, and the sticky, warm touch made him feel nauseous.

The remains of four soldiers from the Beijing garrison were scattered around Song An like flower petals.

Wang Erhu fell backward, his severed hand still firmly embedded in the crossbow mechanism of the sleeve arrow. The three-inch-long bronze arrowhead pierced through the chainmail of the heavily armored soldiers, and black blood was gushing from the throats of six enemy soldiers.

Suddenly, seven or eight curved blades slashed from the side, severing the head of a soldier from the Beijing garrison. The headless body remained in a forward-charging posture, staggering a few steps before collapsing to the ground with a thud.

Suddenly, Song An felt a weight on his left shoulder as a curved blade slashed down, tearing open the flesh on his shoulder. Hot blood blurred his right eye, and the world before him became a blurry crimson.

He staggered back half a step, his back hitting the cold city wall, where he saw Chen Yingzong shivering at the base of the wall, still clutching the bronze plaque in his hand.

"Commander Song—!"

Zhang Wu pierced the last enemy blocking his path with a single shot and shouted at Song Ansheng:

"Hold on! The Heavenly Army has arrived!"

The only response he received was Song An's final bitter smile.

Song An's pupils began to dilate, and blood kept gushing from the corner of his mouth.

He felt his strength draining away with his blood, and his body becoming light, as if he were about to float away.

He heard the thunderous hoofbeats of three thousand cavalrymen shaking the city bricks, and heard Zhu Cilang's cloak fluttering as it swept across the city wall, but he could no longer see Zhang Wu carrying the corpses of enemy soldiers as he smashed open the barbican.

"Your Majesty, I have successfully completed my mission..."

Darkness surged in from all sides, swallowing the firelight and the sound.

In his last moments of clarity, his blood-stained fingers twitched on the brick floor as he slowly drew half a ram's horn.

When Wang Jing led three thousand cavalry through the North Gate, Song An's body was still in the position of leaning against the city wall, with half of his blood-stained robe nailed to the brick wall, resembling a tattered banner.

Song An died in battle!

Meanwhile, the inner rampart was already riddled with broken blades and arrows.

The other soldiers from the capital garrison brought by Song An used seventeen corpses to build a shelter; they paved the way for their successors with their lives.

The last three soldiers, covered in blood, were biting iron nails with their teeth, nailing the blood-written letter of "loyalty and bravery" firmly to the mechanism of the city gate.

The sounds of fighting inside the barbican gradually subsided.

The crescent moon, like a hook, coldly illuminated the plaque of "Da'anmen" on the north gate.

The three gilded seal characters "Hanze Tower" have been pierced by arrows and are now hanging precariously between the charred brackets.

Zhang Wu's iron spear knocked away the last barricade, and the scattered fragments of chainmail on the ground reflected the outline of the city wall.

This double-layered barbican, originally built during the Hongwu period of the Ming Dynasty, was already exceptionally sturdy, but now both its inner and outer gates have been breached by the iron cavalry.

The person who deserves the most credit for all of this is none other than Song An, who died in battle.

The moss between the city bricks had long been stained dark red by endless blood.

"The cavalry will split their forces—!"

Lieutenant General Wang Jing's thunderous roar reverberated within the barbican, and three thousand warhorses stirred up a bloody storm across the battlefield.

The command flag in his hand ripped in two with a "rip," and his voice grew even more impassioned:

"Whoever breaches the central command post head-on will be promoted three ranks!"

"A bounty will be awarded to anyone who flanks the Imperial Guards!"

Lieutenant General Wang Jing personally led the main attack battalion of 2,000 elite cavalry, followed closely by 6,000 infantry, with their target being the Shu King's Mansion.

The outer city wall (also known as the inner wall) of the Shu King's Mansion (the location of the "Central Army Mansion" of the Great Western Kingdom) had four gates, and the key gateway to the inner city was Zunyi Gate.

Wang Shangli, the commander of the Great Western Army, led 10,000 elite troops to defend the palace and protect Zhang Xianzhong, the "Eighth King".

In this night raid on Chengdu, Zhu Cilang adopted the strategy of "straight to the heart of the enemy," directly attacking the central military headquarters (i.e., the Shu King's residence) and killing Zhang Xianzhong.

The cavalry and infantry worked together, with the cavalry breaking through the defenses and the infantry mopping up the remaining enemy.

Amidst the neighing of warhorses, the torrent of iron cavalry suddenly split into two streams.

A thousand-strong procession swept through Jinma Street like a black tide from the west, crushing the watchmen's gongs along the way, and their goose-feather swords swiftly slicing through the night patrol's wooden clappers.

The blade points directly at the west gate of the inner city, heading straight for the Zunyi Gate.

The 1,000-cavalry raiding force on the eastern flank has already set foot on the Yuhe Stone Bridge.

The river beneath the bridge reflected the towering flames, resembling a flowing river of blood.