Late Ming Dynasty: From the Defeated Soldiers at Daling River to Ascending the Throne

Zhao Sheng had been wandering in the mountains for three whole days.

On September 16, his scout squad was ordered to follow the main army and scout out the movements of the Tartars.

Unexpectedly, their scouts had barely been dispatched and hadn't even figured out the Tartars' strength when their main army was routed.

Zhao Sheng's squad of five was also intercepted by the Tartar light cavalry and scattered on the spot.

Then Zhao Sheng was chased by the Tartars in the mountains like a rabbit for three days. Last night, he finally managed to shake off his pursuers, but his horse lost its footing and fell off a cliff.

We've long since run out of water and dry rations. Last night we found a spring and drank our fill, but we have no food in our stomachs. All we can hear is the water sloshing around inside.

Just as he was leaning against an old pine tree, pondering whether to head towards the Great Wall or try his luck to the south, a wisp of smoke drifted in on the wind.

The smoke mingled with the dampness of the mountain forest, carrying a hint of... the aroma of burnt meat.

His stomach immediately growled, and his mouth secreted a lot of saliva.

Where there is smoke, there are people. In this area, they could be mountain dwellers or hunters, or defeated soldiers, or even Tartar soldiers capturing prisoners.

Zhao Sheng licked his chapped lips and reached towards the direction from which the scent was coming.

As you get closer, you can hear voices; there are four or five people speaking in Chinese.

Zhao Sheng became even more vigilant, as the Tartar soldiers often used this method to lure and kill refugees and fleeing soldiers.

He removed his longbow, pulled an armor-piercing dart from his quiver and held it in his mouth, while his right hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

Pushing aside the last shrub, a leeward slope came into view.

He saw seven or eight people sitting or squatting, with a strange earthen pit in the middle. Meat was placed on top of the pit, and the aroma of meat was coming from there.

The men were dressed in tattered clothes, but there were a few remnants of Ming army uniforms, and three horses were tied to a tree in the distance.

They weren't Tartars, they were defeated soldiers.

Before Zhao Shenggang could decide whether to show himself or retreat after making this judgment, a sudden change occurred!

A burly, dark-faced man suddenly turned his head, his leopard-like eyes glaring in his direction. With a roar, he charged forward, wielding a thick-backed broadsword!

The blade flashed, cleaving through the air, aiming straight for his face!

Capture live soldiers!

The thought exploded in Zhao Sheng's mind, and all his fatigue and hunger were instantly swept away by the chill of death.

He had no time to think; his body, honed by countless brushes with death, darted to the side and back, his waist knife already half a foot out of its sheath.

"Stop!" A sharp shout came from the group.

The burly man with the dark face instantly withdrew his sword and stepped back two or three steps to confront Zhao Sheng.

Zhao Sheng then saw clearly that the one who shouted was a young man wearing white armor and cotton armor. He stood in the middle of the group of people, and everyone surrounded him.

Just then, three more people came down from the hilltop, two of whom had already drawn their bows.

That look sent a chill down Zhao Sheng's spine. Was he going to die here today?

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Seeing that the newcomer did not resemble a Tartar, Chen Feng stopped Hao Dadao.

"A Ming dynasty person?"

Zhao Sheng did not answer, but slowly straightened up, his right hand still firmly gripping the hilt of his knife.

"Are you the night watchman?" Meng Changgeng asked as he came down the slope.

He noticed that the other man was wearing a sheepskin hood, a watermelon bag (a uniquely shaped bag specifically for holding watermelon cannons) and a cannon at his waist, and several different kinds of arrows with clearly marked numbers in his quiver.

Zhao Sheng's eyelids twitched.

"Where did you come from?" Zhao Sheng finally spoke, his voice hoarse and dry. "Why are you cooking here? Aren't you afraid of attracting the Tartar scouts?"

He did not answer the other person's question, and his words were full of wariness.

"I'm asking you a question!" the burly, dark-faced man roared impatiently. "Our leader is a centurion! Which battalion's night scout are you from? State your name!"

"A commander-in-chief?" Zhao Sheng sneered inwardly. These days, there are at least eighty or a hundred deserters who call themselves commanders-in-chief or centurions.

He looked at the young man, who met his gaze calmly and said, "My surname is Chen, and I belong to General Song's command. Are you a night watchman?"

"Zhao Sheng." Zhao Sheng uttered two words, still as concise as ever, "Under the command of General Wu Xiang."

"General Wu's men?" Meng Changgeng frowned even more. "Just you alone? Where's your horse?"

"The road is bad, and the horse fell and died. The squad... was scattered." He answered briefly, but his gaze fell on the two horses in the distance. "Give me the horses. I have military duties to attend to; I need to head towards Yizhou to scout."

"Yizhou?" Chen Feng suddenly laughed. Although he didn't know much about the Ming Dynasty, he knew that elite scouts like the Night Scouts usually operated in small teams. This person was alone, so he was either a defeated soldier who had been scattered by the Tartars or a deserter.

Chen Feng slowly said, "Brother Zhao, even if I give you a horse, are you going to Yizhou alone to spy? What are you spying on? Even if you get intelligence, can you return alone?"

"Military orders are absolute; you don't need to worry about that."

"How about this," Chen Feng took two steps forward, his tone softening, "let's put military affairs aside for now. You're all alone; even with a horse, you'd have a hard time getting out alive. Come with us and get through this first."

Zhao Sheng's right thumb seemed to unconsciously rub the rope wrapped around the hilt of his knife. He leaned back slightly, ready to retreat.

Chen Feng did not miss Zhao Sheng's subtle movement; he simply raised his hand.

Hao Dadao and his two other men moved half a step forward without making a sound, subtly blocking Zhao Sheng's escape route to the side and rear. Aji had already circled behind a rock, his bow already aimed at Zhao Sheng.

The air froze again.

Just then, "Gurgle gurgle..."

A very loud rumbling sound, almost like an echo in a valley, came from Zhao Sheng's stomach.

The sound was so loud that even Zhao Sheng himself was taken aback.

The tense atmosphere was instantly broken by this unexpected noise. Zhao Sheng's face turned red, and his grip on the knife tightened and loosened repeatedly.

Hao Dadao couldn't hold back any longer and burst out laughing.

Meng Changgeng's lips twitched slightly, and he looked away.

Chen Feng's expression remained unchanged. He turned his head and instructed Meng Changgeng behind him, "Scholar, get this Brother Zhao a piece of meat."

Meng Changgeng responded, cut off a large piece of roasted venison from the still warm earthen stove, and used half of a broken helmet to hold hot soup, placing it on a flat stone not far from Zhao Sheng.

The aroma of meat and the steam of hot soup wafted over.

Zhao Sheng's Adam's apple bobbed violently, and a rumbling sound came from his stomach. He could feel his saliva secreting wildly, and his fingers trembled slightly.

He slowly released his grip on the hilt of the knife, walked over, picked up the helmet, and carefully took a sip of the hot soup.

He paused for a moment, then grabbed the piece of venison and took a big bite.

He ate quickly, but remained vigilant, occasionally glancing at the fleeing soldiers around him out of the corner of his eye.

Chen Feng walked back to the fire and sat down, starting to eat his portion of meat, which had cooled down a bit.

After Zhao Sheng swallowed the last bite of meat and finished the soup, Chen Feng spoke again: "Are you full?"

Zhao Sheng wiped his mouth with his sleeve, nodded, and still didn't say anything, but the hand on the hilt of the knife relaxed a lot.

Chen Feng nodded and gestured for Zhao Sheng to sit down by the fire.

Hao Dadao leaned closer, grinning, "Brother, not bad! Not many people can dodge my blade. How about it, come work for me? From now on, I'll protect you!"

Zhao Sheng looked at Hao Dadao as if he were an idiot, without saying a word, only subtly pursing his lips.

Hao Dadao, failing to discern the meaning in Zhao Sheng's eyes, assumed he acquiesced and became even more excited. He pulled Zhao Sheng to sit down, saying, "Our leader said he's taking us to rob the Tartars! We'll take their silver and livestock, buy land back inside the Great Wall, and become rich! You're coming too, there will be benefits for you!"

Robbing the Tartars? Returning to the interior?

Zhao Sheng sneered, "Rob the Tartars? This time the Tartars have mobilized nearly 100,000 troops; there are Tartars everywhere within a radius of dozens of miles. Where can they possibly rob?"

"Let's go to Yizhou! The boss said Yizhou is deep in the Tartar territory, its defenses are definitely weak, let's pull off a big heist!"

"Yizhou!" Zhao Sheng suddenly looked up at Chen Feng.

As a seasoned night scout, he possessed an extraordinary sensitivity to marching routes. Did he intend to go and die? No, he planned to take a long detour, circling back to Jinzhou from beyond the Great Wall!

Is this guy crazy?!

Zhao Sheng's gaze was fixed on Chen Feng's face. Chen Feng didn't even look at him. He had already finished eating the meat and was helping a young, defeated soldier re-tie his loose leg wraps. His movements were practiced, and he was muttering some words of advice.

The young defeated soldier nodded vigorously, his eyes full of trust.

Zhao Sheng suddenly felt he couldn't quite figure out this young man who called himself a centurion. He had armor, horses, and men under his command, yet he was leading them to their deaths... But the way he helped his men tie their legs made it seem like he genuinely believed that this would allow him to take these defeated soldiers home.

After Chen Feng finished binding his legs, he looked up and saw Zhao Sheng looking at him, so he extended an invitation again, "Want to come along? I'll take you to rob the Tartars."

Zhao Sheng remained silent for a moment. He was all alone now, with no one to keep watch at night, let alone survive.

The group in front of them was suspicious, but at least for now, they didn't seem to be enemies. They had food, horses, and a plan that was clearly a suicide mission.

You can follow them first and then find an opportunity to steal those horses.

"Okay," Zhao Sheng uttered a single word.

Chen Feng nodded, seemingly unsurprised. "Welcome to the team."

Zhao Sheng nodded again, found a rock not far from the crowd and sat down. He didn't want to have any more contact with these lunatics.

The afternoon passed quickly during the shift breaks.

Chen Feng glanced at the setting sun, stood up, and said, "Pack your things, let's get ready to leave."