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

Oroseson was awakened by the sound of his personal guards' footsteps breaking in.

He instinctively reached for the scissor knife beside his pillow, the cold touch of the hilt bringing him back to his senses.

"Ejen... The Mongols are causing trouble in front of the camp gate."

"What's going on!" He sat up, his voice rough and low.

The guards who rushed into the tent kowtowed, not daring to raise their heads: "Ejen, a hundred or so Mongols have come to the camp gate, surrounding it and demanding an explanation."

"What do you mean?" Erosson grabbed his cotton robe and put it on, his brows furrowed.

"It was...it was that Young Master Liang." The guard stammered, "He wanted to drink at night, so he sent his bondservant and Shen Qinghe to the Mongol camp to 'demand' some wine. The Mongols refused, so Shen Qinghe, on the grounds that the Mongols had violated the Ejen's military orders, had...two centurions from the Balin tribe whipped, and all the wine was confiscated..."

The guard slightly raised his head, glancing at Orosechen's expression out of the corner of his eye. "The men of Setel Beile can't swallow this insult and have come seeking revenge overnight..."

"Nikan!!!" Oroseson roared in fury.

He kicked over the low table in front of him, causing the copper tray and kettle to tumble down and spill water into the charcoal brazier, creating a cloud of white smoke.

His forehead veins bulged, and his chest heaved violently.

Those lowly Nikan merchants, once they gain power, become arrogant and will ruin the Great Khan's great plans!

"Who's patrolling the camp in the middle of the night? Where's Gultai? Tell him to go and take those Mongols back!" He pulled on his belt and tightened his cotton robe.

The guard knelt on the ground, his voice even lower: "Gultai... Gultai Ejen... he was drinking with Young Master Liang in his tent... It is said... according to the soldiers guarding the tent, Gultai Ejen has fallen asleep drunk... he should be in Young Master Liang's tent now..."

Orošechen paused, then turned around abruptly, his gaze sharp as a knife.

The tent was deathly silent for two breaths.

"Okay...okay!" he forced out the word through gritted teeth. "Very good!"

He grabbed the dagger from beside his pillow, then picked up the riding whip from the shelf, and strode out of the tent. His personal guards quickly got up and followed.

"Send someone to fetch Gultai for me! He has openly violated Bengejen's orders; he knows the consequences!" He swung his whip sharply, the whip cracking in the air with a crisp "snap."

"Yes, sir!"

As soon as Orosechen stepped out of the tent, a patrol of armored soldiers walked towards him and passed by, wafting a strong smell of alcohol.

He could no longer contain his anger, grabbed his riding whip, and lashed it at the leader, Bashiku. "Drink! Drink!"

The leader, Bashiku, dared not dodge the whipping and could only beg for mercy with his head in his hands.

"Tie up everyone who's been drinking!"

........................

Chen Feng squatted beside the oxcart in front of the gunpowder depot, his palms covered in sticky, cold sweat.

The commotion from the direction of the camp gate was even louder than before. The roars in Mongolian and the curses in Manchu could be faintly heard. The lights in many tents in the camp were also lit up, and it seemed that the whole camp was in turmoil.

"Quickly." That was all he said.

Wang Jie kicked open the gunpowder magazine door and dragged all the barrels of gunpowder that had been unloaded from the cart inside. He pried open the barrel lids with the tip of his knife, and the black and yellow fine powder poured out, piling up into small mounds on the ground.

Then, using the sole of his boot, he spread the powder into a thin line, extending from the depths of the warehouse all the way to the door.

His movements were quick yet steady, and he deliberately spread the material unevenly in every place.

Because Chen Feng had instructed that if the mixture was spread too evenly, it would be harder to ignite.

Chen Feng took out two fire ropes that he had prepared beforehand from his pocket. They were about the thickness of a little finger and each was about four feet long. Then he tied the fire ropes to one end of an incense stick.

Both incense sticks and tinder are commonly used by night watchmen. The tinder is soaked in saltpeter beforehand, so it burns slowly and steadily; while the incense sticks are special timekeeping equipment, burning without smell and without obvious light.

Two fire ropes and one incense stick would burn for about the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, and that time would be the deadline for them to leave.

After tying the match cord, bury one end of the match cord into the end of the gunpowder fuse and press it down firmly.

Seeing that Wang Jie was also ready, Chen Feng lit the incense sticks. A small flame rose from the tip of the incense stick and then quickly went out.

Chen Feng stuck the incense stick in the corner of the wall, turned around and left, "Just the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, hurry!"

Wang Jie went straight to the stable, carrying a packet of gunpowder he had swept from the bottom of a barrel, which he intended to use to scare the horses.

Although warhorses are trained and not easily frightened, they are still just beasts when faced with the explosion of gunpowder, no matter how well-trained they are.

Wang Jie was confident that he could use this packet of gunpowder to drive all the warhorses in the stable into a frenzy.

Chen Feng went to the hay shed. He didn't know if Meng Changgeng and his men had successfully set the fire, so the hay shed was a safe haven for him.

Because Chen Feng and Wang Jie spent too much time setting up the gunpowder depot, nearly 45 minutes had passed since they parted ways.

The hay shed was not far from the stable. It was a simple wooden frame shed covered with reed mats and let in drafts from all sides. Inside, there were small mountains of hay and bags of beans.

There were four guards on duty tonight, but when Chen Feng approached, he noticed that two of them were heading towards the camp gate, probably drawn by the commotion caused by the Mongols at the gate.

Chen Feng approached, close to the shadows, trying to suppress the sound of the armor plates rubbing together, but he couldn't completely eliminate it.

One of the two guards seemed to have heard something and was about to turn around when Chen Feng's arm wrapped around his neck from behind, and the blade sliced ​​across his neck. Chen Feng's other hand covered his mouth and nose, so he made almost no sound.

The man's struggle lasted less than a second before his body went limp.

But the two guards were only five or six steps apart when the other one heard the noise and turned around.

He saw his companion lying on the ground, and saw a "Bayala" wearing red armor dragging his companion's body, while blood was still spurting from his companion's neck.

Even a fool would understand what was happening, and he opened his mouth to shout.

But before he could utter a single syllable, a flying dagger severed his throat, the blade piercing his Adam's apple with pinpoint accuracy, and the sound that followed turned into a gurgling, bubbling noise.

He covered his neck with both hands, staggered back two steps, and collapsed into the hay.

Chen Feng didn't look at the guard. Although he acted quickly, the guard's scream might still attract other Jin soldiers.

He squatted down, took out a ball of oiled cotton and a tinderbox from his pocket, used his fingertips to pry open the bamboo tube lid, and gently blew on the remaining dark red embers inside.

The spark reignited, igniting the cotton oil in my hand.

Just then, a deep, cold Jurchen voice came from behind: "What are you doing?!"

Chen Feng couldn't understand Jurchen, but he understood the questioning and wariness in the tone.

He turned his head and saw, in the firelight, a burly figure wearing a cotton robe standing ten paces away.

The man had one hand on his sword, and behind him were at least ten Bayara guards, fully armored. Who else could this be but Orosechen?

Orosechen was on his way to the camp gate to quell the Mongol riots when he seemed to hear shouts coming from the hay sheds. So he led his men over to investigate.

Upon arriving, they saw a red-armored Ba Ya La holding a tinderbox, with two soldiers' corpses lying beside him.

That wasn't his soldiers doing anything they were supposed to do.

His pupils constricted sharply, the veins on the back of his hand bulged, and he drew his sword with a clang. "Ming spy! Take him down!"

Chen Feng reacted quickly, without hesitation, he took out a gunpowder pack from his pocket, lit the folded corner of the pack with the open flame of the fire starter, and then threw it at the enemy.

The gunpowder ignited rapidly, and with a muffled "bang," a ball of flame, mixed with scorching heat and blinding white light, exploded in front of the guard's face.

The guards were completely unprepared for Chen Feng's move and could only instinctively close their eyes and turn their heads away, seeing only a burning afterimage.

By the time they had all regained their sight, Chen Feng had already retreated into the hay shed, where a fire had been lit over the hay.

Upon seeing this, the guards rushed forward to put out the fire before Orosechen could give any orders.

Oroseson brandished his knife and shouted, "Chase!"