The New Destiny of the Ming Dynasty

A whistle is a type of iron whistle, and a "tie whistle" is an iron whistle made from a sheet of iron.

Its voice is sharp, loud, and penetrating, making it ideal for summoning or commanding the troops at night.

Yang Zhen didn't know if the iron whistle of later generations existed in this era, but he did know that there was an iron whistle as early as the Song Dynasty, and the sound-producing principle of this iron whistle was somewhat similar to that of the iron whistle of later generations.

"My lord! Why must it be made of iron? If you want a chisel, I can get you one from a reed stalk, and make one for you! And I have as many as you need!"

No sooner had Yang Zhen finished speaking than Zhang Guogan chimed in, proving that Zhang's reputation as a gossip was well-deserved!

"What nonsense are you spouting?! The adults told you to go ask, so go ask! Why are you talking so much nonsense?!"

Zhang Degui had absolutely no respect for his nephew, Zhang Guogan, but no matter how much he disliked him, Zhang Guogan was still his nephew, and there was nothing he could do about it. Now that he saw Zhang Guogan was being a gossip again, before Yang Zhen could say anything, Zhang Degui gave him a good scolding.

However, Zhang Guogan's words also made Yang Zhen realize that there must have been such things as whistles or bugles in this era. Although the shapes may be different, there must have been similar things.

Sure enough, after Yang Zhengang finished inspecting the ammunition depot, artillery unit, and grenadier unit's positions, before he could even return to his own shack, he heard a man running up a few steps away saying:

"My lord! I've inquired! Old blacksmith Wang said making a whistle is no problem! Whistles are simple; even made of iron, they can be made!"

The speaker was Zhang Guogan.

Seeing him approach, Yang Zhen nodded and said, "That's good! Finish it as soon as possible! We'll probably need it tonight! Also, don't bother brewing any more saltpeter near the ammunition depot! You can pass on my message: from now on, Pan Wenmao will be in charge of saltpeter brewing! There's a major battle tonight! Gather your men on the right wing and make all the necessary preparations! We'll see how you perform tonight!"

Zhang Guogan was a little unaccustomed to Yang Zhen speaking to him so seriously, but he didn't dare hesitate and immediately replied, "Your subordinate obeys!"

When Zhang Guogan received his orders and left, it was already completely dark, but there were still nearly two hours until the departure time decided in the morning—Hai Shi (9-11 PM).

Yang Zhen made a round of inspections, arranged everything he could think of, and finally returned to his shack. By the dim light of the shack, he began to pack his things.

Since arriving in this parallel universe, he has been constantly on the move, perhaps all for the sake of today's battle.

Others may not know the true significance of this battle, but he does.

If everything he had done before was effective, then this battle would put it to the test; if it wasn't effective, then he really wouldn't know what to do next.

Since coming into this world, he has never done anything purely for himself, nor has he ever had the chance to sit down quietly and consider his future.

Yang Zhen's shack contained nothing but the necessities for survival.

The surrounding area was rough gravel, and the ground was covered with dry reeds that Yang Zhan'ao had brought for him, which could be considered a straw mat for now.

Of course, at this time, there was also a bow, a quiver of arrows, an old goose-feather knife, and a Lumi gun that was nominally borrowed in the shack.

At that moment, everything in the shack felt cold and unfamiliar to him. The only thing that gave him a little warmth was the tung oil lamp hanging in the shack.

However, apart from these military supplies, he had nothing else of his own, not a penny of silver, not even a single coin.

Putting aside his identity as Ningyuan's deputy general, what truly belongs to him now is perhaps only a tattered cotton quilt of unknown origin and age.

Sometimes, he felt that having come to this era, he had plenty of choices, such as going south and becoming a wealthy man.

But now, he feels that he has no other choice but to struggle to make a living under his current identity.

Yang Zhen returned to his shack and packed his things. With no outsiders present, his emotions suddenly plummeted to an unprecedented low. For no apparent reason, he felt a deep sense of sorrow.

Everyone else is counting on him, but who can he count on? In the end, he can only count on himself.

But no matter how strong a person is, there will always be times when they are exhausted and can't hold on any longer!

In that instant, Yang Zhen felt a genuine weariness and drowsiness. He simply let go of everything, stopped thinking about anything, curled up on the dry reeds, covered himself with the tattered quilt, and quickly fell asleep.

Yang Zhen woke up with a start, not knowing how much time had passed. He was surrounded by darkness, and the tung oil lamp had been extinguished sometime earlier.

The nights in early March in Liaodong were extremely cold, but when Yang Zhen touched his head, it was covered in sweat, and the clothes underneath his cotton-padded coat were also soaked through.

However, after a good night's sleep, I actually sweated, and when I woke up, I felt much more relaxed and refreshed.

Yang Zhen crawled out of his dugout and had barely stepped onto the ground when Yang Zhan'ao darted out from the side: "Sir! You're awake?! Old Wang the blacksmith's son, Wang Duan, came by just now! He made the two iron horns you wanted! They're done! No noise is allowed in the camp at night, so I didn't dare to try them out! Sir, take a look!"

Outside the dugout, the moonlight shone like water, casting a silvery glow on the ground.

Over the past few days, Yang Zhen has begun to get used to the pitch-black night. When he comes out of the dark shack and looks up at the moon, it feels a bit too bright.

Yang Zhen steadied himself and took two short black pipes from Yang Zhan'ao's hands. In the moonlight, the black iron pipes glowed faintly.

Yang Zhen immediately recognized it as a traditional iron whistle, made on the same principle as the whistle made from hollow reeds that Zhang Guogan had mentioned.

First, the iron sheet is forged into an iron pipe. Then, a piece is ground off the iron pipe with a file, and a long strip of iron is forged into the iron pipe.

A metal whistle was thus made.

This straight-tube, open-ended iron whistle with a reed is completely different in shape from the iron or plastic whistles of later generations, but their sound-producing principle is the same.

Thinking of this, Yang Zhen put the black iron pipe in his mouth and blew on it gently. The iron pipe made a soft "shishi" sound. As soon as Yang Zhen heard it, he felt relieved. It was that sound.

He didn't need to blow hard at all; he knew this was exactly what he wanted.

Of course, later generations of iron or plastic whistles could produce very complex sounds, but the iron whistles of history had a much more monotonous sound.

However, Yang Zhen wasn't using it as a musical instrument; as long as it had a basic purpose, that was enough. So, Yang Zhen was already quite satisfied with this iron horn—as a time traveler, he couldn't expect too much from the ancients.

Yang Zhen put away the iron whistle made by Wang the blacksmith and his son, looked up at the moon's position, roughly judged the time, and said to Yang Zhan'ao, "Pack your things! It's almost time to leave!"

"My lord! We've packed everything! We're just waiting to set off! — Actually, there's not much for me to pack! Just two bows, two quivers of arrows, and a knife!"

Yang Zhanao is Yang Zhen's personal guard captain. His official rank is not high. He has risen and fallen to the position of battalion commander. However, he has won the trust of the former Yang Zhen. At the same time, his performance during Yang Zhen's feigned coma has also earned the full trust of the current Yang Zhen.

If he wanted, he could easily serve as an adjutant in the musketeer, artillery, or grenadier corps, but he didn't want to.

Moreover, like Yang Zhen before him, he was proficient in archery and horsemanship, and looked down on firearms such as muskets and flintlock pistols, believing that they were weapons used by the old, weak, sick and disabled soldiers who could not ride horses or draw bows.

Now, Yang Zhen's views have naturally changed. He knows that besides his own historical knowledge, all he has left to rely on are firearms.

However, Yang Zhanao felt somewhat disappointed or indifferent to Yang Zhen's change.

Deep down, he even thought that Yang Zhen was acting desperately and had been misled by Zhang Degui and Li Lu.

He himself still trusted bows and arrows more. Even after Yang Zhen's old troops in the advance camp had all switched to firearms, he still insisted on using bows and arrows and waist knives.

Currently, among Yang Zhen's former subordinates, besides Yang Zhan'ao, there are two others in Yang Zhen's original personal guard of about ten men who are in the same situation—they are skilled in archery and horsemanship, but do not know how to use firearms and are unwilling to use them.

Therefore, Yang Zhan'ao, the captain of the personal guards, can actually only manage, or rather, obey, two people at the moment.

As for the rest of Yang Zhen's personal guards, they have all been dispersed and assigned to the musketeer team to work as musketeers.

Yang Zhen did not blame Yang Zhanao for his choice. He also needed a trustworthy person by his side to help him with his daily life and various camp affairs.

Now, Yang Zhen listened to Yang Zhan'ao's words, nodded to him, looked at Yang Zhan'ao, and seeing that he was also looking at him, as if he had something to say, he asked him again:

"What's wrong? You have something to say? Speak up! At a time like this, what can't you say?!"

"My lord! If I die a heroic death this time, please bring me back! I have no other wish than that if you ever have the chance to return to Yizhou, you should burn me and take my ashes back to be buried with my parents! I never fulfilled my filial duties while I was alive, nor did I have a family. I don't want to be a lonely ghost after I die!"