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

At 3:45 PM, Chen Feng rode on horseback, looking at the lights below the hillside.

Below the hillside, rows of torches and bonfires formed a ribbon of light, like a fiery dragon crawling at the junction of the hills and plains, turning half the night sky dark red. This was the front-line supply camp of the Later Jin army.

The camp covered a vast area, with the fence extending along a gentle slope, its depth estimated to be over three miles. Twenty miles to the south, a denser array of lights could be faintly seen—that was Huang Taiji's central command tent.

Chen Feng spurred his horse and charged towards the Later Jin's grain supply camp with Wang Jie, Hao Dadao, and Meng Changgeng.

The group arrived at the back of the hillside about 15 minutes ago. After getting close, they lay in ambush and observed, and had roughly figured out the defenses of the camp.

As Wang Jie had predicted, the Later Jin's grain and fodder camp was indeed heavily fortified. Under the firelight of the camp, one could clearly see that chevaux-de-frise and fences had been set up around the camp walls.

At each of the four corners of the camp wall stood watchtowers, each manned by at least two archers. Outside the fence, small cavalry squads carrying torches moved back and forth, each squad consisting of five riders, with intervals of no more than fifteen minutes.

About a hundred paces from the camp wall, the Tartars had already dug two trenches, each about ten feet wide, with sharpened wooden stakes driven into the bottom. Outside these two trenches, hundreds of bondservant soldiers or prisoners of war were digging a third trench under the supervision of the camp soldiers, carrying torches.

Based on the number of guards and cavalrymen, Wang Jie roughly estimated that at least two Niru (military units) were stationed inside the camp, not including the troops of the surrounding Mongol tribes.

On the plains west of the main camp, a dozen or so tents can be seen. Judging from the style of the tents, they should belong to a Mongolian tribe affiliated with the Later Jin dynasty, numbering over several thousand.

Chen Feng was wearing Liang Siye's brocade robe, the front of which was torn in two places, and the sleeves were covered with mud and dark brown bloodstains, which he had smeared from his own nose.

To make the disguise more realistic, Chen Feng had Zhao Sheng punch him in the nose. Zhao Sheng didn't hold back, and it felt like he broke the bridge of his nose. At this moment, his nasal cavity was filled with the smell of rust.

Wang Jie and Hao Dadao removed their armor, wearing dark-colored close-fitting clothes with chainmail underneath, and only their waist knives as weapons.

At this time, they were called Wang San and Lao Dao respectively, and they were Liang Siye's bodyguards and servants.

As for Meng Changgeng... at this moment, the scholar felt a chill on his scalp, which made him sneeze incessantly.

Thinking back to half an hour earlier when Chen Feng suggested shaving his head, he almost jumped up: "Our bodies and hair are gifts from our parents! I'd rather die, jump off a cliff, than shave my head!"

"Five hundred taels," Chen Feng said.

"What?"

"After it's done, I'll give you five hundred taels of silver," Chen Feng said, staring at him. "That's enough for you to buy land and a house when you get back."

Meng Changgeng's lips began to tremble. "No! A scholar will not bow down for five pecks of rice!"

"One thousand taels," Chen Feng added. "That's about enough for you to donate to the Imperial Academy."

"I……"

"Two thousand. If you don't agree, then forget it." With that, Chen Feng turned his back.

Meng Changgeng closed his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing several times, before putting on a fawning smile: "Master Chen, whatever you say, this servant will shave you right away!"

Now, most of his hair has been shaved off, leaving only a small tuft at the back of his head, which is the standard hairstyle of Han Chinese bondservants under the rule of the Later Jin.

Wearing a coarse cloth jacket and worn-out straw sandals, he rode a lame old horse behind Chen Feng and the other two.

The reason for this configuration is that neither side fully trusts the other.

Wang Jie was worried that if he went in without his own men, Chen Feng and the others would enter the Tartar camp and offer his brothers outside as a pledge of allegiance to the Tartars. Even if Chen Feng was a real member of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, so what? In those days, there were quite a few Han Chinese officials who betrayed the Ming and surrendered to the Jin. He had to be responsible for the lives of the fifty or so brothers who had already gathered.

Chen Feng was also worried that if Wang Jie abandoned his post and ran away after his men went in, then the people who had infiltrated would die at the hands of the Tartars in no time once their identities were revealed.

Naturally, everyone understood this unspokenly; it wasn't brought up openly.

In order to gain military merit and to ensure that those who entered the camp were of sufficient importance, the leaders of both sides personally went into action, infiltrating the Tartar camp as inside agents.

The four riders charged out of the forest, their hooves clattering loudly in the silent wilderness.

The cavalry surrounding the camp immediately moved in this direction, and the Later Jin soldiers on the arrow tower also reacted.

"Ming army launches night attack—!!!"

Immediately afterwards, the sound of a bowstring vibrating came from the darkness ahead.

Several arrows pierced the air, one of which grazed Chen Feng's ear, while another embedded itself in the bridge of his saddle, its tail trembling violently.

Startled, the warhorse reared up, and Chen Feng, whose riding skills were already rusty, could no longer control the horse. He was thrown off and fell from his horse again tonight.

Meng Changgeng, who was following at the back, had already gotten into character. He tumbled off the saddle and scrambled to Chen Feng's side, "Master! Master, are you alright!?"

Wang Jie and Hao Dadao reined in their horses and stopped, drawing their swords to guard Chen Feng.

Chen Feng was thrown around and was completely disoriented. When Meng Changgeng helped him up, more than ten riders had already surrounded him.

"I want to enter the camp..." Chen Feng said, taking out a piece of silk cloth from his pocket.

————————————————————

In the center of the camp, on a brightly lit open space illuminated by torches, two burly men with bare upper bodies were wrestling.

Oroseson was panting heavily, sweat streaming down his back, glistening in the firelight.

He was thirty-one years old and the eldest son of Prince Consort Darhan. He was brave and skilled in battle, and repeatedly led his troops to repel Zu Dashou's breakout. Huang Taiji praised him as being no less than the First Baturu Daishan and specially promoted him to Jiala Ejen.

A newly healed arrow scar ran diagonally from his cheekbone to his jaw, a mark left from the night before when he ambushed Zu Dashou's breakout attempt. The wound wasn't serious. However, Huang Taiji showed him compassion and transferred him to guard the grain and provisions camp for "quiet recuperation," allowing him to get acquainted with the Bairin Mongols who were assisting in the defense, so that he could later command the various Mongol banners.

The group of Bayara around him were all Orosechen's direct subordinates, whom Orosechen brought with him when he was transferred to the rear.

"Good!" The onlookers cheered loudly.

Oroseson has won ten consecutive games in Buku.

At this moment, he gripped his opponent's belt with both hands, holding onto a similarly muscular Niru Ejen. He suddenly jabbed his right leg between the opponent's legs, using his waist and abdomen to throw the man over.

"Urgent report!" the messenger's shout suddenly rang out.

Orosson was momentarily distracted, and his opponent seized this opportunity, striking him hard in the ribs with his left elbow and simultaneously hooking his supporting leg with his right foot.

"Bang!"

Dust billowed as Oroseson was slammed to the ground.

The onlookers were silent for a moment, then erupted into even louder cheers.

"Gultai! Gultai won!"

"The number one Baturu in the camp has changed!"

The Niru Ejen named Gultai laughed and reached out to pull Orosechen: "Young Beile, being distracted on the battlefield can cost you your life."

Oroseson slapped his hand away, got up, and spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva: "Again!"

"I'm not coming anymore." Gultai picked up his robe from the ground and put it on. "Winning one game is enough. If I really hurt you, the Khan will punish me."

Orosechen snorted, quite nonchalantly. He took the cloth offered by his personal guard to wipe his sweat, and looked at the messenger kneeling beside him. "What is it?"

"Several Ming spies were captured outside the camp."

"Just kill him." Oroseson frowned. "You even reported such a trivial matter?"

"But..." the messenger looked up, his voice trembling, "they have... the emperor's seal on them."

The open space fell into a deathly silence.

All the smiles on the faces of the Bayaras froze, and Gultai's hand, which was fastening his belt, stopped in mid-air.

Oroseson paused in wiping his sweat, then slowly turned his head. "What seal?"

"A piece of silk cloth covered with the Great Khan's imperial seal..." the messenger stammered. "The guards are hesitant to make a decision. Please, Ejen, go and inspect it yourself."

Orosechen and Gultai exchanged a glance, and Gultai nodded.

"Where is he?" Oroseson grabbed his robe and put it on.

"They have been taken to the camp gate outpost."

"Walk!"