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

At the beginning of Hai hour (9-11 PM), the entire village fell asleep.

The shack was filled with snoring, interspersed with Hao Dadao's incoherent murmurs.

Chen Feng lay on the hard earthen bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Qin Shouyi's words during the day, Zheng Sanfu's tears, those sallow and emaciated faces, and the things he wanted to do in the future were all swirling in his mind.

He sat up, put on the Bayara battle robe that he had been using as a blanket, and quietly left the shack.

He slowly climbed the ridge behind the fortress, stepping through the snow.

The view here is expansive, and in the distance, one can see the lights of the Tartars guarding the walls of Yizhou; closer in, in the darkness, the torches of the Later Jin cavalry patrol slowly move across the open field.

He had just sat down on a sheltered rock when he heard a barely audible clinking of a hilt against a piece of armor not far to his side.

"Who?" Chen Feng asked in a low voice, his hand already on the hilt of his knife.

A dark figure rose from the shadows of the even darker rocks, and Zhao Sheng's voice rang out: "It's me, boss."

Chen Feng breathed a sigh of relief. By the faint light of the snow, he saw that Zhao Sheng was also fully armored at night. It was probably a habit of not removing his armor while sleeping.

"You can't sleep either?" Chen Feng asked slowly.

Zhao Sheng nodded silently, walked to another rock next to Chen Feng and sat down, his gaze also fixed on the distance.

The two sat there in silence, with only the sound of the wind.

After a long while, Zhao Sheng suddenly spoke up, "Boss... I feel a little suffocated."

"Speak." Chen Feng didn't look at him, still gazing into the distance.

"What Zheng Sanfu and the others said... about those things." Zhao Sheng paused, seemingly finding each word difficult to utter. "I used to... also think that these mountain people... had cheap lives. If their lives could be exchanged for a Tartar's dog's life, or to gather some information, it would be worth it. When my colleagues drank, they often laughed at their stupidity, and I echoed them..."

He gasped for breath, the air was icy cold. "I never imagined... they went through this. Was I... wrong?"

Chen Feng did not answer immediately.

He recalled a time in his past life when he was training new recruits on the southwestern border. One of the college student soldiers, who vomited uncontrollably after his first mission, had asked a similar question from his sentry post late at night: "Squad leader, was I too much of a coward? Everyone says that drug dealer deserves to die..."

Thinking of this, a faint smile appeared on Chen Feng's lips.

"Man," Chen Feng began slowly, "can only understand what their own eyes can see. You're a top-notch night watchman; your 'world' is military orders, enemy intelligence, killing the enemy, and how to complete the tasks assigned by your superiors with minimal cost. Standing in your 'position,' thinking of weakening the Tartars by any means necessary—this idea itself isn't entirely wrong. Everyone's initial intention is to win the battle, to drive out the Tartars, but…"

He turned his head, trying his best to see Zhao Sheng's blurry face in the dim light. "It's just that the methods were wrong. Or rather, at that time, you only had the biggest goal of 'defeating the Tartars' in your eyes, but forgot to carefully examine who the real enemies were, and who were the ones who could stand shoulder to shoulder with you, or at least should not be easily sacrificed... your own people."

Zhao Sheng's body trembled.

"Instructor... uh, an elder from my hometown once said," Chen Feng quickly corrected himself, "that things need to be divided into primary and secondary contradictions. Here in Liaodong, our life-or-death struggle with the Tartars is the primary contradiction. Other things, such as internal strife, competition for resources, and even friction between different groups, are secondary contradictions. Secondary contradictions must be subordinate to the primary contradiction. If we waste our comrades just because we think they are a burden or look down on them because we think they are inferior to us, or even push them to the opposite side, that would be foolish, and it would only hurt our friends and please our enemies."

He patted Zhao Sheng on the shoulder. "Before, standing on your own vantage point, you couldn't see the scenery on other peaks. You did some things that now seem selfish and cold-blooded, but it wasn't entirely your fault. It was that vantage point that limited your view. But now you've changed peaks. You see, you hear, and you feel pain... This means the scenery you see has broadened... That's enough. Knowing your past methods were wrong, you can correct them in the future. As long as you remember who your real enemies are and maintain your bottom line, you won't go astray."

Zhao Sheng remained silent for a long time, but his gaze into the distance seemed a little clearer than before.

Chen Feng said no more and turned his gaze back to the dark wilderness.

Suddenly, a melody rose uncontrollably from the depths of his memory, deep and lingering. Almost unconsciously, he hummed it out in a very soft voice:

"A great river... its waves are wide... the wind blows through the rice paddies... the fragrance fills both banks..."

But Zhao Sheng heard this and looked at Chen Feng with some surprise.

Chen Feng stopped and smiled, somewhat wistfully: "It's a tune from my hometown. It sings of a beautiful place, but unfortunately... there are no great rivers or rice paddies here, only Tartars and a group of pitiful people."

Zhao Sheng seemed to understand, yet not entirely, but he nodded and began to sing along with Chen Feng's tune.

The rest time is short but precious.

During the day, Zhao Sheng and Hao Dadao, along with a few nimble soldiers, managed to patch up several collapsed sections of the stockade wall with stones and mud.

Meng Changgeng was surrounded by a group of teenagers. He used a stick to draw on the snow and teach them to recognize his name. Although he often shook his head and said that these kids had no talent for studying, he never stopped drawing his fingers.

Chen Feng would often jump onto the horse's back to practice horse control. Several times he was thrown off the horse because he couldn't hold onto the saddle. Each time he fell off the horse, he would be ridiculed by Zhao Sheng and Meng Changgeng.

But he didn't give up. Through his fearless spirit, he gradually figured out the tricks of the trade.

During breaks from horseback riding practice, he would take the captured lances and repeatedly thrust, pull back, and parry at straw targets, incorporating the ruthlessness and simplicity of modern bayonet techniques into the long spear routines of this era. Others found it interesting and followed his example in their spare time.

Under Old Pu's meticulous care, the surviving young wounded soldier's condition stabilized.

"You're lucky, kid. You weren't seriously injured, so you shouldn't be left crippled." Old Pu patted his shoulder.

"Thank you, Grandpa Pu. My name isn't Wawa, it's Sun Ergou." Sun Ergou chuckled foolishly.

Aji has been very happy these past two days. Several children in the village who are about his age have heard that he is good at archery and have been following him around these past two days.

Chen Feng watched Aji shoot an arrow and wondered if he should also practice his archery skills. Although Aji's musket was effective, it was too noisy.

However, after a few attempts, he realized that he didn't seem to have the talent for it. He could miss the target even at a distance of thirty paces, and he felt that this thing required a lot of practice.

That morning, Qin Shouyi hurriedly found Chen Feng and grabbed his reins. "Lord Chen, the scouts have reported that the caravan's chief steward left Yizhou City an hour ago with only seven or eight guards. Judging from the direction... he's heading towards the Daling River!"

Chen Feng reined in his horse, his eyes suddenly sharpening.

Heading towards Dalinghe? At this time?

He immediately dismounted: "Old Qin, is the information accurate? Is someone following us?"

"Two old hunters were following us, but they dared not go any further after passing Tuanshan Fort. Below Tuanshan Fort is flat ground; the Tartars would see us." Qin Shouyi nodded. "What's the next step?"

Chen Feng quickly calculated in his mind that the key figure of the caravan had left the main group, most likely to go to the Khan's tent to meet Huang Taiji, perhaps to deliver some particularly important intelligence.

Regardless, this is an opportunity.

"Let's go, let's ambush north of Qilihepu, and make our move as soon as the manager returns and enters the mountains!"