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

Qin Shouyi suddenly stood up, his face flushed with excitement. He took a step back and then knelt down before Chen Feng!

"Lord Chen, you are truly virtuous! You are...you are a living bodhisattva sent by Heaven! Please accept my deepest bow!"

Chen Feng was startled and hurriedly stood up, supporting him with both hands: "Elder Qin, you mustn't! You're too kind! These are just hearsay methods; whether they'll work or not is another matter. Even if they do, you'll have to overcome countless difficulties to carry them out yourself. I can't accept such a gesture!"

The old man gripped Chen Feng's forearm tightly with his one arm, his eyes welling up with tears. "Lord Chen, we've been wandering in the mountains, neither human nor ghost, for nearly ten years! Has anyone ever cared whether we live or die?"

Zheng Sanfu and several other leaders also knelt down. Zheng Sanfu clasped his hands and said, "Lord Chen, what Elder Qin said is right. We often have contact with night scouts and have some cooperation with them."

Halfway through his story, Zheng Sanfu also burst into tears. "Those people were just using us as cannon fodder. I'm not stupid; I know they're laughing at us behind our backs. But what could we do? We're fighting the Tartars; someone has to die, someone has to rush in and fight the Tartars to the death! I thought, if my death can help the court fight back, then so be it, it's just one life, right? But... but this... all these years... the court..."

Zheng Sanfu was speechless and cried uncontrollably, while his leaders also kept wiping away tears.

While Zheng Sanfu was speaking, Meng Changgeng and Hao Dadao kept glancing at Zhao Sheng.

As Zheng Sanfu spoke, Zhao Sheng's head drooped lower and lower. After a long silence, he got up and left the shack.

Chen Feng gripped Qin Shouyi's hand tighter and tighter, a burning sensation filling his chest—the truth, the historical trajectory of the Ming Dynasty's impending demise, and the hopeless future where these people were destined to be betrayed.

He almost shouted: Stop kneeling! The court you're loyal to is rotten to the core!

But the words caught in his throat. He realized that he now had to use a lie to feed them the courage to live.

He helped Qin Shouyi up with all his might. "Old Qin, please get up quickly. I have seen all your sacrifices. If I can return this time, I will definitely report your achievements to the court. His Majesty is a wise ruler and will not wrong you loyal generals."

Seeing the atmosphere growing increasingly heavy, Meng Changgeng stood up. "Yes! Our Commander-in-Chief has connections in the court; he'll be promoted to General in less than two years. Then he'll definitely lead a large army back to fight!"

Meng Changgeng kept giving Hao Dadao meaningful glances, and Hao Dadao finally realized what was going on. "Right...right! Our commander is a war god! He can tear apart a whole squad of barbarians by himself! If it weren't for the fact that we were too useless and held the commander back, the commander would have already gone to Huang Taiji's tent and cut off Huang Taiji's head himself."

As Hao Dadao's words became increasingly absurd, Meng Changgeng kicked Hao Dadao in the shin and muttered, "Idiot!"

"That's right! Our leader is the reincarnation of Zhao Zilong! He can fight his way in and out of the Tartar ranks seven times... um... um..."

Meng Changgeng couldn't stand it anymore, so he covered Hao Dadao's mouth and dragged him out.

Aji, crouching in the corner, grinned foolishly. "Boss...kill!"

"You scoundrel, get out here too!" Meng Changgeng's voice came from outside.

After this commotion, the atmosphere inside the shack became strange.

Qin Shouyi forced a smile, a short and dry one, and slowly rose with Chen Feng's help. "Lord Chen, we..."

Chen Feng picked up the conversation, "Let's continue talking about gunpowder..."

Zheng Sanfu and several other garrison leaders also stood up and surrounded Chen Feng, asking him about the details of the gunpowder and food.

After inquiring about the relevant details, Qin Shouyi seemed to remember something and asked, "Lord Chen, are you preparing to leave the pass?"

Chen Feng was taken aback, not expecting the other party to ask so directly. "I do have that plan."

Qin Shouyi pondered for a moment and said, "Are you eyeing the collapsed section of the Great Wall in the northwest?"

"Yes, that was true before," Chen Feng nodded and then shook his head, "but I heard the roads there are difficult to travel, so I'm still considering it."

"Actually, you can continue upstream along the Daling River. The Tartars built a fortified position there a couple of years ago. There are only ten armored soldiers and several dozen bondservants. From there, you can directly enter the territory of the Tumed."

"Oh? Is that really true?!" Chen Feng's eyes lit up.

Qin Shouyi nodded. "The road was opened by the Tartars a couple of years ago. It's a difficult road to travel; there's only one narrow path."

Chen Feng was momentarily excited, but then he immediately thought of something else. "I heard that a caravan has recently entered from outside Zhenyuan Pass. Could you tell me the details?"

"This..." Qin Shouyi looked at Zheng Sanfu.

Zheng Sanfu recounted his discussion with Chen Feng about robbing the caravan the previous night. When he finished speaking, he remembered his earlier words about sending the night thugs to their deaths, and he lowered his head.

Chen Feng smiled and said, "We don't need you to go first. Just provide their whereabouts and send someone to guide us."

"It's not that I don't trust you, but Lord Chen, why are you so determined to rob this caravan leader?" Qin Shouyi asked, and Zheng Sanfu also cast a questioning glance his way.

Chen Feng guessed that the large caravan was most likely one of the eight major Shanxi merchants. He thought that taking the lead would both cause trouble for the Tartars and that the manager might be carrying a "dragon ticket".

Legend has it that the Dragon Ticket was a collateral certificate issued by Huang Taiji to the eight major Shanxi merchants. It was stamped with the dragon jade seal of the Later Jin dynasty. With this certificate, the eight major Shanxi merchants could enjoy free trade in the territory of the Later Jin dynasty and could mobilize a certain number of Later Jin troops as guards.

Although this is a legend, the Qing Dynasty later confirmed it, and it was even made into a TV series in later generations to praise the business acumen of Shanxi merchants.

Therefore, if we can really get this dragon ticket, then whether we use it to leave the pass or to do some small things in the heart of the Later Jin, there is much we can do.

Even if the legend of the dragon ticket is false, or if he failed to snatch it, it would still cause trouble for the Later Jin Tartars, and Chen Feng would be happy to do so.

However, Chen Feng did not tell Qin Shouyi and the others about these thoughts. He just smiled and said, "Killing more of these Tartar lackeys can weaken the Tartars' strength and also contribute to the Dalinghe region."

Qin Shouyi nodded. "I understand."

The curtain fell, shutting out the sobs inside the shack.

Zhao Sheng stood in front of the rough log supporting the door, his right fist, clad in iron gauntlets, slowly clenching.

With a muffled "bang!", the fist slammed into the wooden pillar, causing dust to fall from the pillar.

He maintained this posture, his jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles in his cheeks bulged.

Every word Zheng Sanfu uttered felt like a whip lashing at the heart of this elite night scout: exploitation, abandonment, mockery... Had he ever coldly watched these "military garrison civilians"? Had he also used his comrades and the common people as bait or cannon fodder?

The curtain moved again, and Meng Changgeng emerged, dragging Hao Dadao, who was still groaning.

He had just let go and was about to curse when the words caught in his throat. He saw Zhao Sheng's back and wanted to say something to persuade him, but he couldn't bring himself to say it.

He knew these things better than anyone else, and saw more than anyone else, but he always chose to turn a blind eye.

The Yizhou garrison was a remnant that had been used up by the Night Scouts, and these defeated soldiers were also pawns abandoned by those big shots in their infighting.

He understood Zhao Sheng's anger, and it was precisely because he understood that he had nothing to say.

He leaned against the door, gazing at the leaden sky in the distance. He instinctively reached out to tug at his earlobe, but then stopped after a moment's thought.

Hao Dadao also saw Zhao Sheng, but he didn't say anything.

He was also upset by Zheng Sanfu's words, especially those night scouts. They were all Ming people and should have looked out for each other. Instead of scheming against their own people, they should have gone and killed a few more Tartars.

A cold wind swept across the open space of the village, raising fine snowflakes.

From inside the shack, one could faintly hear the fervent discussion about gunpowder and sweet potatoes. The clearer the voices, the heavier the silence outside seemed, pressing down on one's chest.

After a long pause, Hao Dadao spat heavily. When he walked to Zhao Sheng's side, staring at the shallow dent in the wooden pillar, he said in a gruff voice, "Team Leader Zhao, your fists are hard enough."

He paused, then said, "Next time, smash it on the skull of a real Tartar."

After saying that, he walked to the center of the open space, plopped down on a wooden stump, drew his thick-backed broadsword, and took out a rough whetstone from his pocket, and began to sharpen it with a "hissing" sound.

Zhao Sheng glanced at Hao Dadao, and his fist, which was pressed against the wooden pillar, loosened almost imperceptibly.