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

Zu Dashou was awakened by his personal guards.

"General! General! The north has been bombed!"

He sat up abruptly, grabbed the knife, and rushed outside.

Once they reached the top of the city wall, they discovered that others had already arrived. Several important generals, including He Kegang, Zu Dabi, Liu Tianlu, and Zhang Cunren, were all there, staring intently at the north.

In the northern sky, a huge mushroom cloud was slowly rising, and the orange-red flames reflected on their faces.

Zhang Cunren was the first to speak, his voice trembling: "The Tartars' gunpowder depot...it's definitely the Tartars' gunpowder depot!"

He suddenly turned to look at Zu Dashou, "Commander Zu! We have hope of breaking through!"

Zu Dashou stared at the ball of fire without saying a word.

Liu Tianlu frowned. "It's true that the gunpowder depot exploded, but... the city's troop strength is severely insufficient. Over a thousand brothers died during the last breakout. The rest... can hold out on the city walls, but asking them to continue fighting outside the city... I'm afraid that's not feasible."

He Kegang stepped forward, "General Liu, you can't say that. The Tartar's supply camp has been bombed, and morale will surely be thrown into chaos. This is the perfect opportunity to break out!"

Zu Dabi also spoke up, his voice deep and resonant: "Brother, let me take some men and try again! If things don't go well, I'll immediately lead my men back!"

He Kegang chimed in, "Yes, I'll go too!"

Zu Dashou remained silent, watching the ball of fire slowly rise and spread, many images flashing through his mind.

During the "breakout" a few days ago, the Tartars pretended to be Ming troops coming to the rescue, charging towards the city under Ming banners. Some people on the city walls were so excited that they almost opened the city gates.

But when he led his men out of the city, he discovered it was a Tartar trick, and over a thousand men were lost overnight.

"Let's wait and see," he said calmly.

He Kegang panicked, "General Zu!"

"A few days ago, the Tartars pretended to be Ming reinforcements, tricking over a thousand of our brothers into leaving the city." Zu Dashou looked at him. "Who can guarantee it won't be the same this time?"

He Kegang opened his mouth, but couldn't say a word.

Zu Dabi persisted, "Brother! This time it's different! It was the gunpowder depot that exploded, we could see it! The Tartars wouldn't blow up their own gunpowder depot to lie to us, would they?"

Zu Dashou shook his head. "Dabi, we can't take the brothers out on any more adventures. If we fail again this time, the city will really fall."

Zu Dabi remained silent.

Zu Dashou turned and walked down the city wall. "All camps, return to your posts and be on high alert. We'll talk again at dawn."

He Kegang and Zu Dabi exchanged a glance, both seeing the resentment in each other's eyes, but neither of them spoke again.

Zu Dashou walked to the top of the city steps and suddenly stopped.

He didn't turn around, but simply said, "If there really is a chance... I won't give up."

After saying this, he walked down the city steps and disappeared into the darkness.

On the city wall, He Kegang clenched his fists as he gazed at the firelight to the north.

Liu Tianlu patted him on the shoulder, "General Zu is right, let's wait a little longer."

He Kegang remained silent.

He just stared at the ball of fire, at the mushroom cloud that was slowly dissipating.

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

Orosechen lay prone on his horse, with fifteen Bayara riders following closely behind. By this time, they had already chased for two miles.

The horses ahead were getting closer and closer, and on one of them sat two people, Nikan, who had escaped from his grasp.

"Quickly!" He whipped the horse, which neighed and galloped at full speed.

The dog in front can't run far; it can catch up in the time it takes for an incense stick to burn...

Just then, a white light shone behind them, instantly illuminating the entire earth.

Orosesen instinctively turned around.

Then he saw it.

A huge fireball rose from the direction of the camp, bursting forth with orange-red light, like the sun falling to earth.

The fireball rose higher and higher, expanding larger and larger, interspersed with countless black fragments.

Oroseson's mind went blank for a moment.

That's...that's a gunpowder depot.

How did it... explode?

Then the shockwave arrived.

"boom--!!!"

A deafening roar engulfed him. He felt a buzzing sound in his ears, followed by a sharp, piercing pain, as if a red-hot iron needle had been inserted into them.

Warm liquid flowed from the ear canal and trickled down the neck.

He wasn't wearing a helmet, and his right eardrum was ruptured by the shock!

A gust of wind, carrying a scorching wave, swept across, throwing him to the left.

He clung tightly to the horse's mane, his body almost lying across the horse's back, his left foot nearly slipping out of the stirrup.

The warhorse was startled, its front hooves rearing up, almost throwing him off.

"Whoa—! Whoa—!" He pulled hard on the reins, but the horse wouldn't listen.

The old man between his legs was terrified by the loud noise and heat wave, and jumped around trying to run in the opposite direction.

He squeezed the horse's belly with his legs, his arms bulging with veins, and it took him a great deal of effort to calm the warhorse down.

The situation was similar for the people around them, and the queue immediately fell into chaos.

One of them was swept off his horse by the shockwave and fell to the ground. Before he could get up, the warhorses behind him trampled on him.

The horse's hoof stomped on his chest, causing his breastplate to cave in. The man seemed to scream twice, spitting out blood and foam, before convulsing a couple of times and then falling still.

"Ezhen! Ezhen!" Several guards surrounded him and shouted.

He could see their mouths moving, but he couldn't hear what they were saying. The whole world felt like it was stuffed with cotton, leaving only the piercing tinnitus.

He waved his hand to indicate that he was alright, then looked towards the camp.

A pillar of fire shot into the sky, and the entire camp was ablaze.

The grain stacks, tents, stables, and stockade walls were all set ablaze.

The firelight turned half the sky a dark red, and thick smoke billowed out.

Meanwhile, in the southeast corner of the camp, where the gunpowder depot used to be, a huge mushroom cloud rose.

Orossen now understood that those Ming dogs weren't after the grain; their real target was the gunpowder depot.

Those Nikans... those damned Nikans...

A gust of wind blew by, carrying a scorching heat wave mixed with a strange aroma of burning human flesh.

The smell was still clearly audible from nearly two miles away, so strong it was nauseating.

Something dark and swirling fell from the sky and landed in front of Erosson's horse.

Upon closer inspection, Oroseson realized it was an arm.

The hand, severed from the shoulder, remained in a clenched grip, fingers curled.

He stared at the severed arm, motionless.

Several guards also saw it; some covered their mouths, while others turned their heads away.

That's a human arm.

It was someone's arm in the camp.

It could be someone they know, or someone from their tribe.

Oroseson slowly turned his head and looked north.

Those four Ming spies have already run quite far.

They are heading west, and there are forests just two miles away. Once they get into the forest, it will be difficult to catch them.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself not to look at the severed arm, not to smell the odor, and not to think about how many people were still alive in the camp.

"Splitting up the troops," he said, realizing he couldn't hear his own voice, but he knew what he was saying.

He pointed to the four closest guards beside him, then to the man behind him who had been trampled by a horse, and then pointed in the direction of the main camp, making a "go back" gesture.

The four guards understood, nodded, turned their horses around, and rode off.

One of them dismounted, lifted the severely wounded Bayara from the ground, laid him across the horse's back, and then they galloped towards the camp.

Oroseson turned to the remaining ten people and pointed forward.

Keep following up.

He patted the neck of his old buddy beneath him; the horse was still trembling and panting, but it had finally regained its balance.

Oroseson leaned down, whispered something into the horse's ear.

Then he spurred his horse and charged north.

The ten Bayara riders quickly gathered their frightened spare horses and spurred their horses to catch up.

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

Zhao Sheng couldn't hear anything.

All he knew was that there was a flash of light behind him, followed by a powerful push from behind that nearly threw him off his horse.

His warhorse charged forward like a madman, and he had to pull on the reins with all his might to avoid being thrown off.

Looking back, the mushroom cloud had already risen.

He opened his mouth, wanting to curse "Fuck the motherfucker," but found he couldn't hear his own voice.

The scouts around them were also looking back; some were shouting, some were laughing, and some couldn't rein in their horses and were being pulled to the side.

More than forty riders scattered in the blink of an eye.

But nobody stopped.

Everyone turned to look at the mushroom cloud and the towering flames, their faces filled with ecstatic joy, and they all raised their knives in celebration.

Zhao Sheng couldn't hear what they were shouting, but he knew what they were shouting.

It became.

It actually worked!

He looked west and saw that Orosechen's group of Bayara had stopped, a dozen or so riders huddled together in a chaotic mess.

The leader was reining in his horse and looking towards the camp.

Zhao Sheng looked further into the distance.

Chen Feng and his men's horses had already galloped far away and were approaching the western forest. In another half a cup of tea's time, they would enter the forest.

He glanced back at his side.

There were about thirty riders that could still be counted. The rest disappeared; they might have run east, fallen, or been separated from their horses.

But he couldn't worry about that now; he had to take his men to rescue Chen Feng.

He raised his saber, swung it forward, and then pointed to the west.

The thirty or so riders, having figured it out, spurred their horses and sped off, bypassing the group of men led by Erossen from the east.

The thunderous sound of hooves thundered past the dozen or so Tartar riders, who were only a few hundred paces away.

The leader looked up and glanced at them.

Zhao Sheng also turned around and glanced at him.

Hundreds of steps apart, illuminated by the firelight, the two locked eyes for a moment.

He ignored him, turned back, and continued westward.

Thirty or so riders rode through the night without stopping, like a gust of wind, sweeping across the burning plain and galloping wildly towards the mountains and forests.

Behind them, the mushroom cloud continued to rise slowly, the flames turning the entire sky a dark red.

On the 24th day of the 9th month of the fourth year of Chongzhen's reign, at the beginning of the Yin hour.

The chase and escape continued after the explosion.