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

Visibility was poor in the snowy forest at night, and the torchlight flickered in the wind, barely illuminating four or five steps ahead.

Chen Feng almost fell again when his foot slipped. He followed behind Aji, feeling like he couldn't see anything, which made him miss the flashlights and night vision goggles of later generations.

Aji walked at the front with a torch. Unlike Chen Feng, he walked with unusually steady steps, as if he were walking in daylight.

Suddenly, Aji stopped abruptly, frozen in place as if struck by a spell.

Just four or five steps away from Aji, a pair of eerie green eyes lit up in the darkness, and a huge tiger's head emerged from the shadows.

Aji let out a short, sharp sound, and the torch in his hand fell "plop" into the snow.

His legs went weak, and he was so frightened that he sat down on the ground. He then scrambled backward on his hands and feet until he reached Chen Feng's back and hugged Chen Feng's leg, but his body was still trembling slightly.

"Big cat... tiger!" Aji's tone changed, his Mongolian mixed with Chinese, and the sound of teeth clashing could be clearly heard.

Meng Changgeng looked in the direction Aji was pointing and his eyes met those yellow-green eyes.

"Damn it..." Meng Changgeng gasped and turned to run away.

Chen Feng grabbed his shoulder, pinning him to the spot, and said in a low voice, "Don't run! Don't move!"

"Boss!" Meng Changgeng cried out, words tumbling out like popping beans. "I have an elderly mother to feed and a son nearing eighty. My whole family depends on me to carry on the family line! Please, have mercy and let me go! Grandpa! I'll go back and set up a longevity tablet for you!"

"Shut up." Chen Feng stared at the tiger, his hand on the hilt of his knife.

Ironically, perhaps because he had grown accustomed to seeing tigers locked up in zoos in his later years, the thought that flashed through Chen Feng's mind the moment he saw a tiger was: I'll just slide tackle him!

This absurd idea only existed in Chen Feng's mind for a moment before the tiger's actions pulled him back from his wandering thoughts.

The tiger's forelimbs were slightly bent, its head was lowered, and it made a "whooshing" sound from its throat, like a huge diesel engine.

Zhao Sheng remained relatively composed, his knife already drawn, but Chen Feng noticed that his hand holding the knife and his eyes staring at the tiger were trembling slightly.

"Let's retreat," Zhao Sheng said in a very low voice. "Go back inside and leave at dawn."

"No! If we turn around and run now, that beast will definitely chase after us." Chen Feng spoke quickly but calmly. "We can't outrun it. In the end, none of us brothers might even make it out of there."

As if to prove his point, the tiger took another step forward, the snow crunching under its paws.

Chen Feng seemed to be able to smell the stench from the tiger's mouth, and he couldn't help but take a half step back, his heel bracing against a hard rock.

Seeing that Chen Feng wouldn't let go, Meng Changgeng went all out, yelling, "Chen Feng! You son without an anus! Let me go! You're just a fake commander! You have no right to order me around!"

The tiger took another step forward, hissing a warning sound.

"Don't think I'm afraid of you just because you can nail your nails! If you're so capable, go and nail this worm's nails... Ah! Ah..." Chen Feng's fingers dug hard between Meng Changgeng's collarbones, and Meng Changgeng's curses turned into wails: "Grandpa, grandson was wrong! Grandson won't run away!"

"Shut up!" Chen Feng hissed, and Meng Changgeng finally quieted down.

Chen Feng suddenly noticed the sheepskin cover Zhao Sheng was wearing; the inner lining was grayish-white and quite conspicuous in the dark night.

"Zhao Sheng," he said, his eyes still fixed on the tiger, his voice low, "slowly take off that sheepskin mask and give it to me. Be careful."

Zhao Sheng was taken aback, wondering what Chen Feng wanted to do. But he did as instructed and began to untie his belt.

Meng Changgeng started joking again: "What's the use of a leather shield? Do you want to cover this beast's head and beat it up? Boss, that's a tiger, not some yellow cat that stole your chickens... Ouch!"

Chen Feng ignored him. He took the sheepskin cover, opened his robe with both hands, and took a sudden step forward, simultaneously letting out a low roar from deep in his throat: "Roar—!"

The leather cover suddenly burst open in the dim light of the torch and the glow of the snow, like a giant beast that suddenly stood up and bristled.

The tiger was clearly taken aback, its neck shrank slightly, and a hint of hesitation flashed in its eyes.

Chen Feng's heart pounded. In his previous life, he had seen Master De spread his arms to scare away a lion, but he never expected it to actually work.

"Zhao Sheng, raise the torch high! Like me!" Chen Feng shouted.

Seeing that Chen Feng's method was effective, Zhao Sheng followed Chen Feng's instructions, spread his arms, raised the torch, and let out a muffled roar.

The two stood side by side, their torches casting enormous shadows.

The tiger began to slowly retreat.

"Aji, Scholar," Chen Feng's voice was tense, "Draw your bow and make some noise! ​​But don't release the arrow!"

Aji lay on the ground, trembling as he touched the bow, while Meng Changgeng hurriedly took the bow off as well.

The two men haphazardly tugged at the bowstrings, which produced a series of "thump, thump" vibrating sounds that sounded very eerie in the night.

The tiger's ears twitched, and it took two steps back.

"Let's move backward slowly," Chen Feng said through gritted teeth. "Take it slow, don't turn around."

The four of them lined up and slowly retreated, facing the tiger. Chen Feng was so nervous that he even felt a slight ringing in his ears.

After retreating about ten paces, the tiger did not pursue them, seemingly also intending to retreat.

"Ouch!" Meng Changgeng tripped over a tree root behind him.

Meng Changgeng flung the bow in his hand, which landed between the tiger and the crowd.

This sudden change startled the tiger, causing it to leap forward and swing its right forepaw through the air. However, the tiger's large claw was aimed directly at Chen Feng's chest!

Chen Feng stepped back to avoid the impact, but then a loud, ear-piercing clang rang out, as if a bread truck had crashed into him. Chen Feng was sent flying backward, only stopping when his back hit an old pine tree.

"Boss!"

Aji and Zhao Sheng pounced on them.

Meng Changgeng scrambled over, his voice trembling with tears, "It's all over... the breastplate is shattered... is my gut spilling out...?"

Chen Feng sat on the ground, panting heavily. With each breath, his lungs felt like they were inhaling shards of glass.

He looked down and saw that the breastplate on his chest was completely deformed, barely hanging on the armor by a few pieces of cowhide. The cloth armor was torn in three places, revealing the inlaid armor plates inside.

He touched his chest; the bones weren't broken, and his internal organs didn't seem to be injured.

The tiger's claw grazed the edge of the breastplate, sending him flying with tremendous force, but it didn't actually hit his body.

"I'm...I'm fine." Chen Feng gritted his teeth and sat up. "I'm not dead yet..."

Meng Changgeng plopped down in the snow, wiping away cold sweat: "My goodness...you scared me to death..."

Before the words were even finished, another loud "boom" came from the direction of the ravine!

This time it wasn't a burst of musket fire, but a muffled thud from something exploding.

Chen Feng's expression changed, and he forced himself to stand up despite the tightness in his chest: "Let's go! Let's go see!"

At the bottom of the ravine, Zheng Sanfu leaned against the cold rock wall, his teeth chattering.

The tiger had already slid down the slope and stopped ten paces in front of the Tartar formation. Its head was slightly tilted, and its yellow-green eyes swept over the Later Jin soldiers in a semi-circular formation, and then over Zheng Sanfu and the others who were huddled together under the rock wall.

The air freezes.

Sweat beaded on Boshku's forehead as he held his knife in mid-air, unsure whether to advance or retreat.

The three archers in the back row were already fully drawn, their fingers on the string, the arrowheads trembling slightly with their bodies.

"Don't...don't move..." Boshku hissed in Jurchen, "Wait for it to leave..."

Upon hearing Bashiku's voice, Tiger turned his head toward the Later Jin army, his gaze meeting that of the archers in the back row.

The young archer was already afraid, but Tiger's single glance in the crowd completely shattered his spirit.

"Ah—!" he screamed as he loosened the string.

The arrow flew out with a "whoosh," grazing the tiger's shoulder blade and taking away a tuft of fur and a piece of flesh.

The tiger roared in pain, its earth-shattering roar causing the other two archers to lose their grip on the bowstrings, and two arrows flew out with a "whoosh".

This time, the tiger was on guard. It dodged the arrows with a swift movement and pounced directly on the archers in the back row.

The enormous body was like a bolt of yellow and black lightning. Everyone only saw a blur before the beast crashed into the Tartar formation. The young archer felt as if a millstone had slapped him in the face!

The archer's hat and head shattered like a watermelon, splattering red and white substances all over his companion's face.

Tiger Tail swept across, striking another archer's knee with a sickening cracking sound, and the Tartar screamed as he fell to the ground.

Beneath the cliff face, Zheng Sanfu and the others huddled in the crevices of the rocks, barely daring to breathe.

A young hunter stammered, "The Mountain Lord... even the Mountain Lord can't stand the Tartars... kill them, kill them well..."

"Kill! Kill this beast!" Boshku roared hoarsely, his eyes bloodshot.

The formation instantly contracted, and the remaining seven Later Jin soldiers, though fearful, relied on their rigorous training and battlefield instincts to form an encirclement and kill formation.

Three swordsmen and shield bearers in front, while three long spears emerge from the gaps in the shields to thrust forward. The Boshku and the last archer move around the perimeter, firing arrows.

A spear grazed the tiger's ribs, taking a strip of fur with it; Boshku seized the opportunity and shot an arrow into the tiger's rump.

The beast roared in pain, smashing the rattan shield in front of it with a single blow, and pinning the swordsman and shield-bearer to the ground. The swordsman's chest cavity was shattered, and he fell lifeless.

But at that moment, another spearman pierced the tiger's hind leg with his spear, and another swordsman with a shield struck its shoulder blade.

Even the fiercest tiger is still made of flesh and blood. It swept its tail away the crowd and let out a roar, but the roar was already accompanied by panting.

As the tiger's wounds multiplied and its movements slowed, a sinister smile crept across Boshku's face.

"Bang!"

A flash of light appeared on the hilltop, followed by the deafening roar of gunfire!

Almost simultaneously, three arrows tore through the cold wind and shot into the battle from different angles!

With a "thud," the archer on the outer perimeter was struck in the throat by an arrow and fell backward.

"Ah!" A spearman was hit in the face by a lead ball and screamed in pain, clutching his face.

A gap appeared in the Tartar formation.

The beast went berserk. Perhaps it was because the cluster of spears on Bashiku's helmet was too conspicuous in the firelight, or perhaps the tiger knew he was the leader of the group, and the tiger locked onto him directly.

The tiger kicked off the ground with its hind legs, sending sand flying, and its massive body leaped into the air!

Boshku had no time to react.

With a "crack!", the tiger's mouth closed, tearing Bashiku's entire head off along with his helmet. The cowhide and iron plate protecting his neck shattered like paper.

The headless body of Boshku swayed and fell to the ground in the snow.

With their general dead, the remaining four Tartars were thrown into chaos and turned to flee back the way they came.

At the top of the slope, Chen Feng threw down his musket, which had missed its mark, drew his sword, and slid down the steep slope. Zhao Sheng also abandoned his bow, drew his sword, and followed closely behind.

Aji fired three arrows in quick succession, hitting one of them and felling one of them.

Meng Changgeng's aim was a bit off; he fired three arrows, but missed one of them.

The Tartars who escaped from the jaws of death had lost their will to fight. They were caught up by Chen Feng and Zhao Sheng. With a flash of swords, two more corpses were added to the snow.

The last swordsman and shieldman fled to the pass, when he suddenly heard the sound of wind behind him. Turning around, he saw that the blood-soaked tiger was chasing after him again! He instinctively raised his rattan shield.

The next instant, the tiger's paw slammed down, smashing him and his shield into a snowdrift with a "boom," leaving him silent.

The valley suddenly fell silent, with only the whistling wind and the sound of one's own breathing remaining.

Chen Feng stood there, knife in hand, his armor soaked in blood, the broken camisole on his chest trembling slightly with his breath.

Ten paces away, the tiger turned around and their eyes met.

Chen Feng didn't move; the tip of the knife dipped towards the ground, and blood slowly slid down the blade.

The tiger stared at him for a moment, let out a low growl, and suddenly leaped up the opposite steep slope and disappeared into the darkness.