Da Ming: The system granted me immortality; I clock in every day.

At this moment, the old camp in Jianzhou was completely silent.

The valley is surrounded by towering snow-capped mountains, which protect it from the raging blizzards outside.

Hundreds of large and small cowhide tents are scattered across the flat land of the valley.

In the center is the largest dome.

That was the royal tent where Li Man, the leader of Jianzhou, lived.

Inside the royal tent, the charcoal fire burned brightly, dispelling the chill of the winter night.

Li Manzhu lay fully clothed on a soft couch covered with thick sable fur.

I tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep.

Dong Shan was sent to the Ming army camp with gifts; he should have returned long ago.

But it was already past midnight, and they hadn't even seen a messenger.

"Could it be that the snowstorm was too heavy, and Dongshan was delayed on the way?"

Li Manzhu secretly pondered to himself.

He wasn't worried that the Ming army would launch a night attack.

The weather in Liaodong is awful; the Ming army has always been afraid of the cold.

Let alone a night raid, even if we let them into the mountains in broad daylight, they would dawdle and drag their feet.

Moreover, the imperial envoy leading the troops was a greedy member of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

Having received such a generous gift, he would surely be drinking and making merry with women in the camp.

Why would anyone come to suffer in these deep mountains and forests?

Thinking of this, Li Manzhu felt a little relieved, turned over, and prepared to fall asleep again.

Suddenly, a faint yet continuous sound came from outside the tent.

"Shh...shh..."

The sound was like countless feet treading on thick snow, or like some enormous creature quietly approaching.

Li Manzhu spends most of his time hunting in the mountains and forests, and has a beast-like instinct for danger.

He suddenly opened his eyes and jumped up from the bed.

He grabbed the tiger-head scimitar hanging by the bed and strode towards the tent flap.

I just lifted the heavy felt curtain.

A strong smell of gunpowder mixed with the stench of blood instantly filled his nostrils.

Li Manzhu stared intently, his eyes widening instantly, his pupils contracting violently.

The snow-covered slopes surrounding the valley were now densely packed with dark figures.

Countless torches suddenly lit up in the wind and snow, illuminating the entire Suzi River Valley as bright as day.

Before Li Manzhu could even issue a warning roar, a cold shout that ripped through the night sky came from halfway up the mountain.

"Release the arrows! Fire!"

"Bang! Bang! Bang bang bang!"

The deafening roar of the muskets, like thunderclaps from a clear sky, resounded through the deep valley.

The dense barrage of projectiles, interspersed with rockets burning with tung oil, resembled a dazzling yet deadly meteor shower.

It poured down towards Jianzhou Old Camp.

"Enemy attack! The Ming army is coming!"

A heart-wrenching scream shattered the tranquility of the valley.

The warriors of the Jianzhou Jurchens were awakened from their sleep.

Many people didn't even have time to put on leather armor before rushing out of their tents with their scimitars in hand.

But what awaited them was the tightly woven fire net of the Ming Dynasty's Divine Machine Battalion.

The three-stage musket formation, under the command of veterans like Han Bin, displayed overwhelming power.

After the first volley of muskets finished firing, they immediately retreated to reload, and the second volley followed closely behind.

The relentless barrage of bullets swept away swathes of the fierce Jurchen men, leaving them lying on the snow-covered ground.

The rocket landed on the cowhide tent, and the tung oil ignited the dry hay. The fire spread rapidly with the help of the wind.

In the short time it takes to burn half an incense stick, the entire Jianzhou Old Camp was turned into a sea of ​​fire.

"Kill them! Rob the gold! Rob the ginseng!"

Seeing the enemy army in disarray, a deafening roar erupted from the Ming army's ranks.

Those Beijing garrison soldiers, whose eyes had long been blinded by greed, were now like tigers descending from the mountain.

Wielding long swords and spears, they charged down the snow-covered slope into the sea of ​​fire.

They slashed at anyone they saw and stormed into any tent they encountered.

Whether they were Jurchen warriors stubbornly resisting or panicked old people, women, and children...

In this massacre aimed at "plundering," they all became victims of the Ming army's swords.

Blood splattered on the pristine snow, melting the ice and snow.

They converged into shocking, dark red streams.

Li Manzhu stared in horror at the scene before him, a sight that resembled a living hell, his heart bleeding.

This is the vitality that the Jianzhou Jurchens have accumulated over decades!

"That corrupt official! This is outrageous!"

Li Manzhu roared and brandished his tiger-headed scimitar, cutting down two Ming soldiers who rushed forward.

He was, after all, the leader of the Jurchen people and was highly skilled in martial arts.

Several guards quickly gathered around him, trying to fight their way through the flames.

"Chief! We can't hold on! The Ming people have gone mad; they're everywhere! We must retreat to the mountains to the north!"

A centurion covered in blood scrambled to Li Manzhu's side, desperately trying to dissuade him.

Li Manzhu gritted his teeth, looking at the burning royal tent.

Although they were extremely reluctant to part with the rare treasures hidden inside, they also knew the principle that as long as the green hills remain, there will always be firewood to burn.

"Retreat! Retreat to the north mountains! Once we're in the old forest, the Ming army won't be able to do anything to us!"

He made a decisive move and led dozens of his most elite White Tooth Guards.

He turned and ran wildly down the slope on the north side of the valley.

However, they had barely run a hundred paces.

Suddenly, a man and a horse slowly emerged from the snowstorm ahead.

The dark horse from Liaodong was breathing heavily.

The person on horseback was dressed in silver armor and a red robe, holding a long, narrow embroidered spring knife upside down in his hand.

Like a god of death blocking the road to the underworld.

It was none other than Gu Yannian in disguise, the Ming Dynasty's imperial envoy, Pei Yuan, a commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

"Chief Li, with this heavy snow blocking the mountain passes, where are you planning to go in the middle of the night instead of staying in bed?"

Pei Yuan's lips curled into a mocking sneer.

The sound pierced through the clamor of the battlefield and clearly reached the ears of Li Manzhu and the others.

Li Manzhu's eyes were bloodshot, like a lone wolf cornered in a desperate situation, staring intently at Pei Yuan.

"So you're that corrupt official from the Southern Dynasty who accepted bribes from my nephew?!"

Li Manzhu gritted his teeth.

"You accepted gifts from Jianzhou, yet you launched a surprise attack in the dead of night! Has your Ming Dynasty no shame?!"

Upon hearing this, Pei Yuan seemed to have heard an extremely funny joke and burst into laughter.

"Face? Chief Li, have you been in the mountains for too long and your brain has been frozen?"

"Don't you know I'm a treacherous official? Treacherous officials only care about money, not face."

Pei Yuan stopped laughing, his eyes instantly turning icy cold.

"The little thing your nephew sent isn't even enough to fill a tooth gap for me. I've said it before, what I want is the wealth accumulated by your Jianzhou over the past decades."

"If you obediently hand over your treasures and then offer your necks for execution, I might grant you a quick death."

"Since you want to run away, then I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

"Arrogant! Kill him!"

Li Manzhu flew into a rage and brandished his curved sword.

Dozens of White Fang La guards roared and pounced on Pei Yuan like wolves and tigers.

These guards were the bravest and fiercest soldiers of the Jurchen tribe, possessing immense strength and fearlessness in the face of death.

Pei Yuan sat upright on his horse, his eyes calm and unwavering.

Until the Jurchen guard at the forefront raised his heavy spiked club and smashed it down on his face.

Only then did he take action.

Without any visible movement from him, his right arm holding the knife suddenly rose.

"Clang!"

A sharp, piercing glint of light suddenly flashed in the wind and snow.

The embroidered spring knife, with its blade as thin as a cicada's wing, sliced ​​through the wind and snow under the impetus of thousands of terrifying forces and agility.

It sliced ​​open the spiked club that weighed over a hundred pounds, and also sliced ​​open the throat of the guard.

Blood spurted wildly.