The New Destiny of the Ming Dynasty

After saying this, the three of them continued westward for about fifteen minutes. Suddenly, the ground became dry and much firmer, making it easier to walk.

By this time, all three knew they were nearing the edge of the reed marshes, so they stopped talking and quickened their pace.

In just a short while, the three of them crouched down and walked out of the reeds, jogging to a higher sandy slope where they squatted down.

Squatting on the earthen slope covered with dry, withered grass, Yang Zhen looked north and saw the Xiaoling River under the sunlight, like a jade belt, winding its way from west to east several miles to the north.

Moreover, the Xiaoling River becomes wider and more branched as it flows eastward. When it reaches the sea, it turns into a large winnowing basket, or as if it has opened its arms to embrace the sea, branching into countless tributaries and streams.

The banks of the main channel of the Xiaoling River near its estuary are lined with tall, withered reeds that sway and undulate in the wind.

Not far ahead of the earthen slope was a sparse grove of trees. Yang Zhen thought for a moment, took off the musket he had been carrying, crouched down, and continued running forward. He wanted to see what was beyond the grove.

Yang Zhan'ao and Yan San quickly took down the powerful bows behind them, took out two arrows, one in their hands and the other on the bow, and then followed Yang Zhen closely, crouching low as they ran forward.

After a few leaps and bounds, the three of them disappeared into the woods one after the other.

This sparse grove of mixed trees grows on a slightly undulating terrace.

Yang Zhen crouched down and came to the edge of the terrace. Looking north, he saw the main channel of the Xiaoling River not far away, where a dense and tall reed bed grew along the river.

Between this sandy plateau and reed beds lies a patch of saline-alkali land, shimmering with white light.

Looking further west, the land stretches out flat and level, with only occasional weeds, shrubs, and sparse trees.

Several miles to the west, he could not see clearly. Through the treetops, he could only vaguely make out some ancient buildings, and one roof that was faintly visible, gleaming in the sunlight.

Yang Zhen speculated that the Tartars' main camp in the vicinity of the Niangniang Palace was probably just a few miles away, and the roof that was gleaming in the sun should be the glazed tiles of the main hall of the Niangniang Palace.

Seeing this, Yang Zhen knew they couldn't go any further. After calming himself down slightly, he led Yang Zhan'ao and Yan San and carefully made their way south through the woods.

After walking for a short while, the sparse grove of trees turned southwest and abruptly ended at the edge of another boundless reed bed.

Yang Zhen was about to jump down the collapsed earthen slope eroded by the water bubbles in the reed marshes, preparing to continue walking southwest along the edge of the reed marshes, when Yang Zhan'ao suddenly grabbed him.

Yang Zhan'ao said in a tense whisper, "My lord! Listen! It's the sound of horses' hooves! Coming from the south!"

Upon hearing this, Yang Zhen immediately squatted down and listened carefully. He didn't hear the sound of hooves, but he did hear the neighing of a horse. He was so startled that he almost sat down on the ground.

At this moment, Yang Zhan'ao quickly pulled Yang Zhen back and continued in a low voice, "Sir, don't panic! This reed bed has blocked us, and it has blocked them too! Judging from the sounds, they should still be some distance away! And it seems there aren't many men!"

After the three of them quieted down again, Yan San also heard the neighing of warhorses. It seemed that the other side was about to stop and survey the terrain. He quickly reined in the horses to stop the noise, and then whispered:

"My lord! Let's turn back! There are only three of us, and the other side has horses. This situation is disadvantageous for us! We're also far from where we came from, and the terrain is unfavorable!"

Upon hearing Yan San's words, Yang Zhen, who was initially flustered, was about to get up, but then immediately stopped.

"That's right! The terrain is disadvantageous to us! But it's precisely because the terrain is disadvantageous to us that they dare to pursue us! That's why they'll fall into our trap!"

Yang Zhen, who had been unable to find a suitable ambush location, suddenly thought of this place and immediately had another idea—this large reed marshland was not easily entered by the Tartar generals.

However, although the saline-alkali land between this grove and the reeds is mainly composed of relatively loose sandy soil, Yang Zhen walked across it without any problems for pedestrians or horses.

Moreover, this saline-alkali land has nothing to hide from except clumps of dried saltwort, so even if the Tartars are cautious, they will feel safe to pursue them.

If they dare to chase after us, we'll make them suffer.

"We can't leave yet! Let's retreat back into the woods and find a place to hide! Let's not alert the Tartars for now!"

After saying this in a low voice, Yang Zhen didn't get up. Instead, he turned around on the spot, then, carrying the fire, crouched down and tiptoed back very quickly. Yang Zhan'ao and Yan San could only follow carefully behind.

Not long after, Yang Zhen and his two companions had just lay down behind a dense patch of low bushes when they heard a rapid series of hoofbeats, "clatter, clatter, clatter, clatter, clatter."

The group of Tartar knights had already spotted this sparse thicket of trees. They probably wanted to find a way through the woods to the edge of the reed beds on the other side to survey the terrain, so they stopped outside the grove.

A large group of Tartar knights, numbering nearly two hundred, stopped outside the woods a dozen steps away from Yang Zhen and his group.

Some Tartars on horseback were very close to Yang Zhen. He could even hear and smell the snorting of their warhorses and their foul odor.

Yang Zhen was extremely nervous. If the Tartars discovered him now, it would be disastrous. No matter how many times a person's two legs can outrun a warhorse's four legs, it would be impossible.

Besides, even if we have the advantage of striking first, once we are exposed, we can't outrun the arrows in the hands of the Tartar cavalry!

In an instant, Yang Zhen even prepared for the worst, clutching his musket and trying to add ignition powder into the flintlock groove of the "Rumi Gun".

His idea was that if he were exposed the next moment, he would shoot and kill one of the Tartar knights first.

However, before he could take any action, he heard the Tartars outside speaking in a language he couldn't understand. He turned to look at Yang Zhan'ao and Yan San, and both of them shook their heads.

Yang Zhen didn't know whether the two of them were telling him not to act rashly, or whether they themselves didn't know what the Tartars were talking about.

However, none of that matters now.

Yang Zhen turned back and continued to observe the actions of the Tartar knights outside the woods through the gaps in the bushes. He saw that after a few of the Tartars finished speaking, they quickly split into a small group and continued to ride forward along the edge of the woods.

Another small group of Tartar knights dismounted, some taking bows and arrows, others sabers. After a brief exchange in broken English, this group of Tartars actually headed towards the woods on the earthen slope.

At this point, Yang Zhen finally realized that this group of Tartar knights wanted to climb over the woods to see what was behind them.

Thinking of this, Yang Zhen wanted to move immediately, but it was already a bit too late.

That small group of Tartars, bows in hand, had already climbed the earthen slope and entered the edge of the woods, and unfortunately, they were heading towards the bushes where Yang Zhen and his men were hiding.

At this moment, if Yang Zhen makes any move, he will definitely be spotted by the Tartar archers not far away, and then things will be in big trouble!

However, at this critical moment, a whistle came from the far north end of the forest, followed by the shout of the Tartar who had just given the order outside the forest.

After a loud series of "gibberish" sounds, the Tartar knights gathered outside the forest spurred their warhorses and began to move again.

The Tartar archers who were very close to where Yang Zhen and the others were hiding heard the order from the Tartar leader outside the woods. They immediately turned around, left the woods, mounted their horses, and rode north with the main force.

In a short while, the Tartar knights outside the woods had all left.

The three men, Yang Zhen and his companions, who had been extremely nervous, finally breathed a long sigh of relief. They looked at each other and smiled, knowing that they had just narrowly escaped death.

At this moment, Yang Zhen relaxed a little and quickly took the opportunity to take out a packet of gunpowder from the ammunition pouch at his waist, tear it open, and pour it into the musket's touch hole. Then, holding the musket, he crouched down and carefully made his way towards the reeds behind him.

Just as they reached the edge of the woods, they saw that the group of Tartar knights from before had already circled around the edge of the woods and arrived at the saline-alkali land between the woods and the reeds.

This time, Yang Zhen had a much wider field of vision and was farther away from the Tartar troops, so he could finally observe their attire in detail.

Actually, there was no need to look closely; the "lightning rod" design on their heads made Yang Zhen recognize them as elite Manchu heavy cavalry at a glance.

However, they were wearing a layer of black armor over their cotton armor, and the exposed cotton armor, including the small flags on their helmets, was filthy and had long lost its original color. This made it impossible for Yang Zhen to determine which of the Manchu Eight Banners they belonged to.

As Yang Zhen watched and pondered, he saw a tall and burly Tartar riding a black horse gallop out from the group of Tartar knights and rush onto the sand dune where Yang Zhen had previously stopped to observe the surroundings.

The Tartar leader, holding a whip in his hand, rode a tall horse and stood on a sand mound, gazing eastward as if observing the seemingly endless reed marshland before him.

And this Tartar leader was none other than Gabushi Xianzhangjing Arsalan, who was sent by Dorobele Nikan to search for the whereabouts of the advance team!