Chapter Nine, Iron Horse on the Icy River
Although we are all commoners, we are not mere grass; human blood is not water, and it flows like a river! Wu Anguo sighed softly, noting that as we enter the twenty-first century, China still lacks a comprehensive civil rights statute, let alone in this barbaric era. The images of soldiers from certain countries firing machine guns at their own citizens, which I once saw on television, keep resurfacing in my mind. In light of this, I truly do not know whether my actions in altering the course of history are right or wrong. The images of soldiers from certain countries firing machine guns at their own citizens, which I once saw on television, keep resurfacing in my mind. In light of this, I truly do not know whether my actions in altering the course of history are right or wrong
"I have heard of wolves eating sheep, but I have never heard of wolves eating wolves. Often, the key to fairness lies in whether the balance of power is equal." Li Lingyu, who was usually not fond of speaking, delivered this shocking statement with a sense of finality. This remark struck like thunder, awakening those who were deep in thought. The astute Wang Hao glanced around, signaling everyone to refrain from discussing such rebellious topics. Wu Anguo and others also sensed that these remarks were inappropriate for the occasion, and fell silent. The astute Wang Hao glanced around, signaling everyone to refrain from discussing such rebellious topics. Wu Anguo and others also sensed that these remarks were inappropriate for the occasion, and fell silent.
"Ziyou, hurry and help me save people," Wu Anguo, who had rushed across the river with his horse, swung his large saber and cleaved several Mongolian warriors in half. At this moment, he could no longer afford to feel pity; all he could think about was the situation at hand. He had not anticipated that the rising river would drown the Mongolians and also obstruct the advance of the artillery. Without artillery support, how could the Imperial Forest Army compete against the bloodthirsty Mongolian warriors? Moreover, the enemy had unexpectedly summoned so many reinforcements. In this battle, it was uncertain how many of the one hundred Huairou cavalry would return home. He was consumed by rage, realizing that due to his negligence and failure to consider the coordination of troop types, so many who had trusted him had lost their lives unjustly.
Suddenly, the thunderous sound of hooves shattered the clamor of the local militia. Behind them, a cloud of dust loomed large, approaching rapidly. With a swift motion, the well-trained militia immediately formed a battle formation, securing advantageous positions. Meanwhile, the cavalry, who had just missed their chance to shine, closely followed behind the horse of the Thirteenth Master, arranging themselves in a triangular formation.
"Charge into Huairou, seize Wu Anguo to sacrifice to the heavens!" Naha Chu could no longer endure this humiliation and drew his curved sword. "Eight hundred valiant men annihilated three thousand Mongolian Tatars"—these words were deeply etched in his mind. For the Mongolian warriors, this was an unprecedented disgrace. "The Han people only rely on numbers to win; how could such a small group defeat Mongolian warriors? The treacherous Han people, unless you are all exterminated, Naha Chu swears he will not be a man!"
This... indeed, it turns out that they were once afraid of the officials forcing the people to rebel, but now they are no longer afraid even of the common people rising up. It seems that the common people have even fewer options for survival now
... ...
"This future tyrant and hero is, at this moment, merely a child." Wu Anguo unfastened the three-barreled short gun from his waist and handed it to Zhu Di, saying, "These were commissioned for inspection by General Xu. I originally intended to send them to the frontier, but I did not expect the Mongols to arrive so quickly, so I can only lend them temporarily. Although this three-barreled short gun has a shorter range than the one in the general's hand, it can fire three shots in succession and can be operated with one hand. It may be more suitable for the general to use it while on horseback." This three-barreled short gun has a shorter range than the one in the general's hand, but it can fire three shots in succession and can be operated with one hand. It may be more suitable for the general to use it while on horseback.
After walking for two or three miles, the scouting warrior remained still, hesitating. At that moment, a centurion, covered in blood and in a disheveled state, returned in a panic, missing his beard and with an ear severed. He dismounted before the commander and burst into tears. It turned out that the guards of the merchant convoy, seeing the relentless pursuit by the Mongols, had made a desperate stand and set an ambush at the exit of the valley ahead. They first used bows and arrows to take down a majority of the Mongol warriors, and then charged in to fight. Caught off guard, and with the guards being highly skilled, all the Mongol warriors were killed. This centurion had been knocked unconscious by the opposing guard's sword hilt, then revived with cold water, had his beard and ear cut off, and was sent back to warn everyone not to pursue any further
Wu Anguo remained silent for a while. In this era, the relationship among various ethnic groups is fundamentally one of the survival of the fittest. The theory of national unity from the twenty-first century would not only be rejected by those around him, but if expressed, the Mongols would undoubtedly consider him insane. He glanced again at the exuberant local militia, who were lovingly polishing their firearms. The first large-scale concentrated use of firearms was so powerful that even Wu Anguo was taken aback. The side equipped with advanced weapons could almost massacre the other side. He sighed softly and asked in a low voice, "Ziyou, do you not think the power of firearms is terrifying?"
Indeed, with so many people around, one can hit without aiming. Let’s go, let’s take the firearms and deal with those little brats. Whoever's firearm breaks down halfway is a coward raised by a woman. Amidst the clamor, the local militia began to test their firearms. Having been bullied by the Mongols for so many years, no one is willing to be a slave if given the chance
Tired, truly exhausted, Wu Anguo felt himself slowly drifting away, floating towards the distance
"Brother Wu!" Zhou Heng's loud voice echoed in the desolate Black Water Beach, resonating.
"Where did that group go a couple of days ago? Could it be that they fell into the trap of the southern barbarians?" A sense of foreboding rose within Naha. Two hours later, the excavated valley confirmed his judgment. Everywhere lay incomplete corpses of men and horses; those who had been burned alive clung desperately to the earth beneath them with their last bit of strength, their deformed hands caked with dry mud. The stench of charred bodies made many of the Mongolian warriors clearing the path retch uncontrollably. There was not a single living creature left in this valley; anyone who could possess so many horses must surely be a Mongolian elite cavalry. Naha was so enraged that his eyes nearly bulged out, searching everywhere for which army had dealt such a ruthless blow. As for how much blood was on the hands of his own kin, Naha never considered such things. The Han people were inherently weak; they were destined by the Eternal Heaven to be slaves to Mongolian heroes, a lesson ingrained in generations of Mongolians.
Finally emerging from this valley of death, it took nearly half a day of effort to allow the remains of the burned warriors to return to dust. "If we catch the one who devised this treacherous scheme, we must light a sky lantern for him," thought the Mongolian warriors. As they wished, at the mouth of the valley, the Mongolians discovered the name of their enemy, inscribed prominently in both Mongolian and Chinese on a newly erected stone tablet: "The county magistrate of Huairou, Wu Anguo, led eight hundred valiant men to annihilate three thousand Mongolian Tatars here."
The Mongolian army chased to the mouth of the valley, where the leading warriors, in a flurry, attempted to pull the camels away. However, the camels had lost all their strength and lay at the valley's entrance, refusing to move. When the main force arrived, everyone worked together to drag the camels away, clearing the path, but the merchant convoy had already vanished. The commander of the march observed that the valley could only accommodate seven or eight horses side by side, with tall grass and dense trees. Hesitant, he called over a centurion and ordered him to lead a small team of warriors ahead to scout the path, while the main force slowly lined up and entered the valley.
"Halt! Are the descendants of Genghis Khan nothing but cowards who can only flee?" the young man shouted. The warriors beside him raised their blades, forming a wall of steel.
"Ding dong, ding dong," the crisp sound of camel bells shattered the tranquility of the winter morning in the valley. The loud voice of the caravan leader startled the magpies resting in the trees, causing them to flutter away in a flurry. Accompanied by the shouts of the caravan leader, a large group of camels emerged from the valley, with more than twenty bodyguards and caravan hands protecting the procession at the front, middle, and rear.
"General Zhu, may I borrow your troops for a while? I have a plan to dampen the Tartar's spirit." Wu Anguo cautiously asked Zhu Di, uncertain whether this prince, who was reluctant to reveal his identity, could act according to his arrangements.
Everyone saw him as a fair-skinned and charming boy of about fifteen or sixteen years old. They did not mind that his questions were somewhat impolite and happily informed him that the local militia, led by Wu Anguo, the county magistrate of Huairou in the Ming Dynasty, was here to fight the Tartars and defend their homeland, and they inquired about his background. Upon hearing that they were local militia, the boy slightly curled his lip and turned his horse back to his team. This infuriated Wang Hao and the others, who quietly expressed their disdain for the boy's parents. Upon hearing that they were local militia, the boy slightly curled his lip and turned his horse back to his team. This infuriated Wang Hao and the others, who quietly expressed their disdain for the boy's parents.
Wu Anguo observed Zhu Di, whose youthful innocence remained intact, and did not wish to dampen his spirits. He thought to himself, "This pure-hearted young man may one day encounter some tragic event that will lead him to become so brutal." He took out a simple telescope and was demonstrating it to Zhu Di when he spotted a ragged figure stumbling down from the distant mountains. Upon closer inspection, it was none other than the scout leader, Wang Feiyu. He quickly handed the telescope to Zhu Di, spurred his horse, and rushed forward to support Wang Feiyu.
Without needing orders, the remaining thousands of Mongolian soldiers knew what to do, turning their horses back towards the direction they had come from. On their flank, Zhu Di led five thousand Imperial Guards, while Shisanlang commanded the long-suppressed Huairou cavalry, cutting through the enemy like chopping vegetables. They quickly broke through the Mongolian forces, splitting them into two segments. At this moment, the militia soldiers jumped onto the bamboo rafts that had been prepared long ago, vigorously rowing towards the opposite shore while using firearms to count the remaining Mongolian troops.
The fleeing group collided head-on, causing an immediate halt. The blood brought clarity; the Mongolian warrior reined in his horse and saw that ahead were his own reinforcements. The sound of cannon fire had ceased above, as the artillery was stranded on the opposite bank of the river and could not pursue. A few quick-thinking warriors turned to rally their own troops, and soon more people stabilized.
"Yes, let the Mongols know that we, the sons of the Ming Dynasty, are here!" Wu Anguo shouted in agreement. "Kill!" Thirteen Lang was swept up by their fervor, raising his sword to the sky, and a hundred cavalrymen followed suit, brandishing their sabers and shouting loudly. The warhorses neighed loudly, prompting the infantry's mounts in the distance to join in the chorus. Soon, the five thousand Imperial Guard cavalry also joined in this cacophony of neighing. The rolling thick smoke, the raging flames, the sound of horses neighing—this moment's grandeur will forever be etched in everyone's hearts, imprinted on the unyielding land of China.
Ah... a few eunuchs exaggeratedly covered their mouths with their hands, accompanying Zhu Di as they walked towards the valley entrance. Before they got close, a foul smell assaulted their nostrils, causing their stomachs to churn violently, but they managed to hold back their nausea. The fire showed no signs of abating; it seemed it would not stop until it had consumed all the vegetation in the valley.
The young man in red, Na'er Man, was greatly alarmed upon seeing a blood-red horse carrying a bloodied figure, fierce and menacing, approaching him. Instinctively, he struck with the command flag, while Wu Anguo switched his sword to his left hand, grasped the flagpole with his right hand, and pulled it towards his chest. Na'er Man was forcefully yanked from the saddle, sliding towards the horse's neck. Wu Anguo then released the command flag and seized Na'er Man by the waistband, lifting him high. In an instant, all the Mongolian warriors around held their breath. Shisan Lang, Zhang Zhengxin, and others collided and gathered around Wu Anguo. Wu Anguo then released the command flag and seized Na'er Man by the waistband, lifting him high. In an instant, all the Mongolian warriors around held their breath. Shisan Lang, Zhang Zhengxin, and others collided and gathered around Wu Anguo.
Zhu Qi, convey my order: all soldiers of the Tiger Ben Left Guard are to return to Huairou under the command of the Chief Historian Wu Anguo within three days. Those who disobey the order shall be executed! Zhu Di loudly commanded his personal eunuch, casually taking off his treasured sword and handing it to Wu Anguo, saying, "Today, Zhu Li is willing to follow Master Wu's commands, charging into battle and letting the Mongolian Tartars see what true sons of the Great Ming are like"
As a deep sigh escaped, a suppressed roar came from upstream, a white line reaching up to the sky. Caught off guard, Naha hurriedly ordered his subordinates to sound the alarm. There was no time to waste; on the opposite bank, the forces of Wu'an were waiting for this moment. With a wave of his hand, a thunderous explosion echoed, as over twenty cannons roared in unison, launching shells that were neatly arranged around Naha. By the time the Mongolian guards regained their senses, Naha and his close attendants had long vanished without a trace, leaving only countless fragments of flesh and limbs mixed with dirt falling from the sky.
Is that so! Zhu Di took the three-eyed short gun, returned the firearm to the local militia, mounted his horse, and began to look around, completely forgetting that he was the commander of the three armies. After a while, he tucked the short gun into his waist, rode back to Wu Anguo, and cupped his hands in salute, saying, "Thank you, Master Wu, if you have any more treasures, please feel free to send me a few more. When I return to the capital in a while, I will also bring you some exotic treasures from overseas"
"Mintu, Baoyin, spread out to the left and right." Naha waved the flag, and immediately two thousand-man teams surged out from the Mongolian formation, dispersing into a horizontal line as they charged down the river valley. The firepower of the defending troops behind the earthen rampart quickly appeared inadequate. Mongolian soldiers had already begun to wade through the river, approaching the riverbank on the opposite side.
The Sinologist Naha was solely focused on how to arrange for Wu Anguo and Guo Pu, when he suddenly realized that the troops had come to a halt. The commander of the vanguard sent word that the road to Huairou had been blocked by falling rocks, and they were currently dispatching people to clear the stones and open the way.
The commander of the Mongolian army, sensing the dire situation, hurriedly ordered a retreat. The warriors, disregarding the whistling shells overhead and the bullets raining down around them, turned and fled in a frenzy, trampling over one another, resulting in countless casualties. When the survivors reached the stone gate they had just passed, they found it had already been blown apart, blocking their escape route. With no other choice, they turned back and charged forward again, leaving over a thousand corpses in their wake. As the leading commander found a moment of clarity amidst the chaos, he looked up to see that two of his three centurions had already met their end, while the remaining one had lost an arm and was being supported on horseback by his personal guards, visibly struggling to breathe. Gritting his teeth, he struck down several panicking soldiers nearby, reorganized his troops, and charged towards Wu Anguo and the others. The warriors, now having a leader, understood that their only chance of survival was to break through the wall of enemies ahead. With a shout, they recklessly spurred their horses forward. Meanwhile, Zhang Zhengwu, seeing the Mongolians fighting desperately, did not hold back and ordered the gunners to rain shells down on the Mongolian cavalry. The shells were all explosive rounds, forged with rapid quenching, filled with gunpowder and steel balls. Upon impact, they exploded, leaving no living creature intact within five paces. Less than one-tenth of the Mongolian army managed to breach the barrage of artillery fire, and those few fortunate souls who reached within two hundred paces of Wu Anguo and the others were thrown off their mounts, as a barbed wire fence had been erected there, covered in iron spikes. A couple of brave souls stood up, raising their swords to cut through the barbed wire, but before their blades could descend, they had already been pierced by numerous transparent holes.
Wu Anguo cast a grateful glance at Zhu Di, thinking to himself that defending the city was indeed one option, but the factories and mines he had painstakingly built over the past two years were all outside the city and would surely turn to ashes. However, if they were to engage in open battle, their numbers were indeed too few. He called for Zhang Zhengxin to bring the sand table and began sketching with a twig, searching for ways to break the enemy. He was very familiar with the mountains and rivers around Huairou, and he was unwilling to give up even a blade of grass or a tree to the Mongols. The official road had just begun construction this year by Guo Pu and was still unfinished. Before the establishment of local militias, he had even taken students to survey the hydrology and geology. His gaze fell upon the Heishui River, five li away, which during the summer bridge construction had a width of over ten zhang, roaring like a bull. When he passed by there yesterday, the water surface had already shrunk to a quarter of its original size, flowing rapidly and not yet frozen. If the bridge were to be dismantled, it could buy them some time. With this thought, his eyes suddenly brightened; he had an idea. This time, they would fight the Mongols here to the death.
Upon this thought, the commander of the march swung his curved sword high in the air, and the three thousand men shouted in unison, "Oh—Hoo!" as they galloped towards the merchant convoy. The few fallen warriors also changed their horses and followed in a wild chase. Each soldier in the Mongolian army had at least two or three spare horses, thus their steeds were exceptionally powerful. In an instant, they had pursued for another two or three miles, continuously leaving behind exhausted camels discarded by the escort. Some warriors pried open flat boxes; although not all contained crystal and glass, the boxes were filled with valuable items from the grasslands, such as brick tea and lacquerware. Seeing this, the pursuit intensified. They soon saw the merchant convoy turn into a canyon, where two massive stones at the entrance loomed like towering gates. In a moment, they had chased another two or three miles, continuously leaving behind exhausted camels discarded by the escort. Some warriors pried open flat boxes; although not all contained crystal and glass, the boxes were filled with valuable items from the grasslands, such as brick tea and lacquerware. Seeing this, the pursuit intensified. They soon saw the merchant convoy turn into a canyon, where two massive stones at the entrance loomed like towering gates. The escort leader, trailing behind, dragged over a dozen camels, blocking the canyon entrance, and galloped away.
Zhu Di seized the firearm from Wu Anguo as if it were a precious treasure, loaded it with bullets and cannonballs, and fired a shot, creating a hole in a withered tree a hundred paces away. He was jolted back by the recoil of the firearm, nearly losing his balance. Gritting his teeth, he straightened up, rested the firearm on his shoulder, and fired several more shots, mastering the basic usage. Overjoyed, he turned the firearm over and examined it closely, seemingly intending to learn from Liu Bei's strategy of borrowing Jingzhou.
"Have you heard the story of the hunter and the wolf?" Thirteen Lang said to Wu Anguo, trying to enlighten him. Wu Anguo knew that Thirteen Lang was definitely referring to the Ming Dynasty version of "Mr. Dongguo and the Wolf." He glanced at Thirteen Lang and replied, "Brother Cao, do you think I am being overly sentimental? Although these Mongolians are brutal, they are, after all, human beings like us."
Wu Anguo picked up the somewhat heavy telescope and looked back along the path. A group of horsemen, flying the banner of the Ming Dynasty, galloped towards them. Upon stabilizing their formation about two li away, a person dressed in the attire of a guard rode out. From a distance, he reined in his mount and asked in a soft voice: "What kind of travelers are ahead, and what are you doing here"
The young guards rushed towards Wu Anguo. With a powerful strike, Wu Anguo cleaved a warrior in front of him, splitting both man and sword in two. With a swift motion, he knocked another warrior off his horse. However, from the corner of his eye, he noticed a curved blade coming at his back from the right side.
Upon seeing this, the commander abandoned his horse and led his men to climb towards the mountain tops on both sides. However, it was not so easy; after just a few steps, they were pinned down by bullets at the foot of the mountain and could not move. The trees and dry grass in the valley had already caught fire, and at this moment, the flames grew stronger. The local militia on the mountain were obstructed by thick smoke, gradually losing their ability to fire their weapons. The surviving Mongolian soldiers, noticing that the gunfire above had diminished, were overjoyed and crawled out from under their warhorses, behind rocks, and from the piles of dead bodies in search of an escape route. It was as if heaven had eyes, filled with hatred for this group of butchers who slaughtered defenseless civilians. A gust of mountain wind arose, causing the flames to grow fiercer with the wind's force, and in a short while, the valley bottom had turned into a sea of fire. The surviving Mongolian soldiers, noticing that the gunfire above had diminished, were overjoyed and crawled out from under their warhorses, behind rocks, and from the piles of dead bodies in search of an escape route. It was as if heaven had eyes, filled with hatred for this group of butchers who slaughtered defenseless civilians. A gust of mountain wind arose, causing the flames to grow fiercer with the wind's force, and in a short while, the valley bottom had turned into a sea of fire.
Zhu Di secretly admired a small official from the ninth rank, who remained more composed in the face of adversity than this emperor himself, and actually understood how to stabilize the morale of the troops. Observing the equipment and morale of these local militia, he realized that Wei Anguo truly lived up to his reputation. Unfortunately, those Confucian scholars in the court only cared about distinctions of rank and status, allowing talented individuals to go unnoticed. With this thought, he felt a fondness for talent, pulled Wei Anguo aside, and quietly said, "Mr. Wu, I still have five thousand troops here. As long as we hold Huairou for three days, we will surely be able to wait for reinforcements. The enemy is strong and we are weak; we must not act impulsively."
Zhu Di led the Imperial Guard to engage in a thrilling battle, overwhelming the enemy with little resistance. The Imperial Guard, caught up in their excitement, failed to notice the subtle changes occurring among their opponents. When they saw a large group of Mongolian warriors turning to encircle them, it was too late to regroup. The Mongolian soldiers, twice their number, shifted formations under the command of a young man in red, isolating the Imperial Guard into scattered groups. Thirteen Lang, accompanied by the cavalry of Huairou, relied on their sturdy armor to charge left and right, desperately trying to gather the Imperial Guard together, but the Mongolian forces were simply too numerous. One by one, members of the Imperial Guard fell from their horses; no matter how fine the armor of the Huairou knights, it could not withstand such a multitude of curved blades. Thirteen Lang watched in anguish as his brothers fell before him, his heart breaking. General Zhu, who had previously charged ahead, was now in even greater danger, with only a few Imperial Guards remaining by his side. A few young men with pale faces desperately swung their sabers to carve out a path, protecting Zhu Di. Only they understood that this man must not be lost; if he were to fall, countless families would be shattered.
Thick smoke obscured half the sky, and the fierce flames consumed everything in the valley. Life was no longer possible, and Wu Anguo silently organized his troops to leave the valley entrance. Despite having won a great victory, he could not feel any joy. Wang Hao, Li Ling, and others cheerfully called for their men to descend from the mountain, waiting for all the brothers above to gather so they could return triumphantly. Every soldier wore a victorious smile of revenge. The only one who shared Wu Anguo's discontent was Muhammad, who, while having others help unload the broken bricks and debris used to deceive the enemy from the camel caravan, rubbed his hands together in pain and said, "Over four thousand horses, over four thousand horses, how much silver that would be." His miserly demeanor only made the local heroes even happier.
However, if these things are in the hands of a tyrant, won't the lives of the common people become even more difficult? When we turn against our own, we are no less ruthless than when we are attacked by outsiders
The sun lazily climbs over the mountain peak, casting the last remnants of warmth upon the earth. The morning mist in the valley is instantly dyed a color reminiscent of flowing silk by the sunlight, while the remaining snow on the mountaintop promptly responds to the sun with a brilliant golden hue. On the slopes on either side, the trees have shed their last few leaves, leaving them bare. In the valley, a few unknown wormwoods stubbornly remain green amidst the withered grass and residual snow, standing out strikingly. Occasionally, a breeze passes through, producing a sound in the empty valley akin to a horn. There are no signs of human presence, no smoke from cooking fires; the winter days in the northern lands possess this timeless desolation.
Wu Anguo noticed that Zhu Di was deliberately concealing something, yet he was unwilling to expose it, to avoid the trouble of formalities. Moreover, from what he knew of history, emperors of the Ming Dynasty often had peculiarities, with many of them bestowing titles upon themselves as generals or grand preceptors; it was simply a family tradition of absurdity that did not warrant further investigation. Just as he was about to respond, Wang Hao interjected, "Three thousand Mongolian Tatars have arrived, look, only these few are left." He proudly gestured towards the disheveled captives, saying, "Aren't they all here? The others were burned to death in the valley." Just as he was about to respond, Wang Hao interjected, "Three thousand Mongolian Tatars have arrived, look, only these few are left." He proudly gestured towards the disheveled captives, saying, "Aren't they all here? The others were burned to death in the valley."
"Ziyou, let us fight to the end" Wu Anguo knew that he could not escape today, harboring a deep-seated hatred for the young man in red. He decided to abandon Zhu Di and charged at the young man in red with his blade. Shisanlang closely followed behind him, and wherever the saber passed, blood splattered everywhere
"How many?" Zhu Di was clearly startled by this number, his hand holding the telescope trembling slightly. Waves of fear radiated from Wang Feiyu, and the clamor of the local militia suddenly ceased. The sounds of the mountain wind and the raging fire became exceptionally clear at that moment. Although they had just achieved a great victory, everyone knew that facing 800 enemies with 40,000 was an impossible task, especially since this valley could no longer serve as a site for the next ambush.
General Naha Chu led over 30,000 cavalry, nearly double the number of warhorses, sweeping across the wilderness like a dark cloud. Having commanded troops for many years, he had never felt such frustration. Xu Da, that old fox, forced him to abandon the dignity of a Mongolian warrior and take the lead in guerrilla warfare. However, the war was taking place on his own grasslands, causing various Mongolian tribes to migrate everywhere, and livestock were unable to rest. Ironically, the Ming army, which had previously been far inferior in archery and horsemanship to the Mongolians, now dared to confront Mongolian warriors head-on. The Ming cavalry almost had a repeating crossbow in hand, capable of penetrating heavy armor at close range, shooting at close quarters without any prior warning. Thus, even if small groups of Ming troops encountered Mongolian forces, it was difficult for the Mongolian soldiers to gain an advantage. Naha Chu ordered the craftsmen to replicate the repeating crossbow, but after several days of effort, they were unable to produce it, infuriating Naha Chu to the point of wanting to tie the craftsmen to his horse and drag them to death. The craftsmen cried out in injustice, claiming that there was no high-quality steel on the grasslands to make the crossbows, and that the famous Huairou soft steel was necessary. However, the Huairou soft steel had never been seen brought by merchant caravans from Beiping.
"Look at this kid!" Wu Anguo, fearing that Zhu Di might act impulsively, threw the fainted Nai Erman into his arms. He turned to the cavalry and called out: "The Tartars are scared; everyone, let’s rally together and drive them back to their homeland!" He swung his sword and charged again. The soldiers of Huairou responded in unison, rushing towards the Mongols alongside him, with the Imperial Guard following closely behind. The sound of gunfire rang out again, and the Mongolian cavalry fell like leaves. The soldiers of Huairou responded in unison, rushing towards the Mongols alongside him, with the Imperial Guard following closely behind. The sound of gunfire rang out again, and the Mongolian cavalry fell like leaves. When the preloaded bullets were exhausted, they resorted to sabers. When the sabers broke, they used their bodies to knock the Mongolian soldiers off their horses. Behind them were the lands of the local heroes, the parents, wives, and children of the local heroes. As long as there was breath left, they could not allow them to be harmed. Although the Imperial Guard usually lived in luxury, at this moment, life could be taken, but dignity could not be trampled upon. When the sabers broke, they used their bodies to knock the Mongolian soldiers off their horses. Behind them were the lands of the local heroes, the parents, wives, and children of the local heroes. As long as there was breath left, they could not allow them to be harmed. Although the Imperial Guard usually lived in luxury, at this moment, life could be taken, but dignity could not be trampled upon. Beneath their feet lay the territory of the Great Ming; anyone who wished to trample it must pay a bloody price. Some bled, some sacrificed, but no one retreated.
"If you do not kill them, they will kill you; on horseback, one always speaks with a knife," Shisanlang continued to advise, "If you show them mercy, you are being unkind to the common people. Weighing the light against the heavy, Brother Wu will naturally not feel troubled by this."
"Mongolians, quickly retreat to the valley!" He urged loudly. The caravan leader's face immediately turned pale as snow, and he turned the horse's head. By the time the front of the caravan of over two hundred camels became the rear, the Mongolian cavalry was already within two li. A lead handler took the reins in front, and the entire caravan immediately galloped back along the path they had come. The bodyguards, adhering to their duties, drew their swords and positioned themselves at the rear of the caravan.
The escorts clearly did not wish to harm anyone, surrounding the Mongolian warriors with their blades but refraining from further attack. The leader, resembling a captain, signaled, and one of the attendants cut the reins of a camel that could no longer move, bringing it over. The leader, on horseback, cupped his hands in a gesture of respect towards the Mongolian centurion and spoke loudly in fluent Mongolian: "We are escorting a shipment of New Year goods to the northern desert and do not intend to disturb your esteemed officers on their journey. These two boxes of goods are for your general; we hope for your understanding." After saying this, he released the camel's reins and rode off with the other escorts to catch up with the merchant convoy, leaving more than twenty Mongolian warriors standing in place, dumbfounded.
The infantry, under the leadership of Wang Hao and Li Ling, finally arrived on horseback, dismounted, and formed a plum blossom formation in groups, aiming at the Mongolian soldiers to shoot. The obstructing Mongolian warriors fell one after another, either struck by stray bullets or stabbed by bayonets. With one commander dead and another captured, this blow had already brought their morale to an all-time low. Upon encountering this fresh force, their morale plummeted even further, and they fled chaotically into the valley. The entrance to Shimen Valley was already narrow; there was no way for so many people to pass through in such disorder, and it was immediately blocked by the panicked soldiers. Taking advantage of the situation, the Imperial Guard captains Wang Zhenghao and Li Canghai led their troops to firmly block the remaining Mongolian soldiers outside the valley. No one heeded the principle of not pursuing a desperate enemy; in the knights' minds, blood debts must be repaid with blood. The quick-reacting Mongolian warriors, seeing this, quickly turned their horses around and, while the Ming army had not yet fully sealed off the rear, seized the opportunity to escape from the side, heading straight for the downstream of the Heishui River, with comrades continuously getting injured and falling around them, leaving them no time to care.
Wu Anguo took a firearm from a local militia member and demonstrated it to Zhu Di. With a loud "bang," a tree branch, as thick as a child's arm, snapped in response from a distance
The skilled escort lightly nudged the horse's head and charged towards another Mongolian warrior. With a feigned strike, he took advantage of the moment when the mounted warrior was defending himself to thrust the tip of his blade into the eye of the opponent's warhorse. The warhorse reared up, throwing its rider to the ground, leaving him disoriented. The other escorts also displayed remarkable skill; within a few exchanges, over twenty Mongolian warriors had been reduced to foot soldiers.
"Damn it, I was just having a great time shooting them one by one on the mountain, but who would have thought a fire broke out below, blocking the Tartars. This time there are plenty of Tartars, just right for me to have a good kill," shouted a bearded local hero.
Zhu Di turned around and carefully examined the peculiar-looking local militia before him. Their clothes were adorned with a riot of colors, and they wore round, shiny iron pots on their heads, a style he had never seen before. The black, shiny iron pipes with wooden handles in their hands were even more unfamiliar to him. However, it was an obvious fact that none of the local militia were injured.
Before the Mongols had time to mourn for their commander, the river, mixed with ice, howled as it swept through the entire valley, carrying away the Mongol soldiers who could not retreat in time like refuse. The Mongols rarely knew how to swim; their armor, soaked in river water, was like a bone-slicing steel knife in winter. In an instant, only a few survivors remained in the water, struggling and calling for help, helplessly being swept downstream before the eyes of their comrades on the shore. The people on the bank were too preoccupied with their own survival to have time to save them. It was as if the shells, with a mind of their own, specifically targeted areas with many people; with each shell that fell, countless limbs were sent flying.
When Wu Anguo finished the battle in the valley and chased here, Zhou Heng had already called back his troops. Together with the common people pulled from the water, fewer than 2,000 local militia surprisingly captured over 3,000 prisoners. Zhou Heng, full of pride, patted Wu Anguo on the shoulder and said, "How about it, Brother Wu? I truly deserve to be called a fortunate general, don't I?" Suddenly, his subordinates found themselves empty-handed, and looking back at Wu Anguo, he swayed twice on his horse before falling to the ground with a thud
However, it was impossible to approach Zhu Di. The young man in red saw that everyone was rushing towards Zhu Di and realized that this person was the key to victory or defeat. He waved the red flag in his hand, and layers of warriors surged forward one after another to block Wu Anguo outside.
The warriors had lost their morale, and were no braver than the farmers. Fleeing, the farther the better, had become the greatest tenet of the Mongolian cavalry. When the Valley of Death came into view, the Mongolian warriors found the scorched valley to be so endearing. But before they could rejoice, five or six thousand horsemen surged out of the valley, led by a young man in a red robe who swung his sword, cleaving the foremost fleeing warrior in two.
The crowd braved the biting northern wind in the valley for an entire day, waiting for the arrival of the Mongolian troops. The armor of the Huairou militia was covered with the gray and yellow military uniforms designed by Wu Anguo, which were often jokingly referred to as "frog suits" by everyone. Once donned, they hid on the mountain, making it nearly impossible to distinguish between stone and man from a distance. Thus, the Mongolian soldiers did not realize the presence of their opponents until disaster struck.
A large contingent surged along the official road for several miles, only to be halted by a deep river ditch blocking their path. The river had shrunk to a mere three feet in width, covered by a layer of ice. The bridge over the river had been destroyed, leaving only half of it on the opposite side. There, a long earthen rampart, hastily constructed from sand and water, stood over three feet high, with a large flag fluttering in the wind. Naha recognized the characters on the flag, which were the very words that made him grit his teeth: "The Eight Hundred Heroes of the Ming Dynasty." There, a long earthen rampart, hastily constructed from sand and water, stood over three feet high, with a large flag fluttering in the wind. Naha recognized the characters on the flag, which were the very words that made him grit his teeth: "The Eight Hundred Heroes of the Ming Dynasty."
Although my understanding of the history of Wu Anguo is not profound, I am aware that during the Ming Dynasty, Zhu Di usurped his nephew's throne and sent envoys to the Western seas seven times, personally leading military campaigns against the Mongols five times. In the 21st century, the Dazhong Temple in Beijing still houses a large bell from the era of the Yongle Emperor, weighing over 40 tons. In comparison, the bell built during the prosperous reign of Qianlong is utterly unworthy of comparison. I wonder if Zhu Di and this Zhu Li are the same person. Why would a prince not fulfill his royal duties and instead pretend to be a general? Stealing a glance, I scrutinize closely, feeling confident in my judgment. Looking again at the several guards beside the general, each one pale and beardless, they can only be eunuchs.
"When they killed my people, they did not regard us as equals. Those who are not of my race will surely have different intentions. The martial history now pities them; when their cavalry charged, there was no pity for you," Wang Hao interjected. To kill three thousand enemies without losing a single person, in his eyes, even if Sun Wu were to be reincarnated or Zhuge Liang reborn, it would be no different. Why should one feel sorrow for the lives and deaths of those brutal Mongol Tartars? To kill three thousand enemies without losing a single person, in his eyes, even if Sun Wu were to be reincarnated or Zhuge Liang reborn, it would be no different. Why should one feel sorrow for the lives and deaths of those brutal Mongol Tartars.
After escaping for four or five miles, the sounds of battle gradually faded away. The surviving warrior could finally catch his breath and slow his pace. Suddenly, a series of sharp sounds echoed, and a rain of arrows fell from the sky. A group of soldiers had been waiting here for a long time. Behind the bright line of defensive stakes, countless archers drew their bows in unison. This was the force led by Zhou Heng, the magistrate of Changping County, and Lin Huofeng, the county official of Shunyi. They had heard that there was trouble in Huairou and had rushed to provide support overnight. Upon arriving in the city, they were informed by local militia that they had annihilated three thousand invading enemies. However, more enemies were still approaching, and the county official Wu Anguo was lying in ambush by the banks of the Heishui River, hastily coming to assist. The infantry moved slowly, and when they finally reached the lower reaches of the Heishui River, they saw countless Mongolians, frozen and barely alive, being swept downstream along with corpses. Many brave civilians, in small boats, were excitedly capturing prisoners or beating the fallen Tatars. Lin Huofeng quickly instructed his subordinates to use long ropes to rescue people, managing to save a few. Zhou Heng suggested that they borrow civilian boats to guard the opposite bank, as they might even be able to capture more. Thus, the two of them led the local militia to lie in ambush on the opposite bank, and unexpectedly, they really encountered the fleeing soldiers.
In an instant, the Mongolian cavalry arrived, with over 3,000 horsemen galloping in an orderly formation. The commander leading the troops instructed someone to open the two flat boxes on the camels. As soon as the protective straw was removed, a dazzling light burst forth, dazzling the onlookers. Despite the strict military discipline, the people around the boxes could not contain their excitement and began to cheer. Inside those two boxes were stacked full of crystal and glass wine vessels. On ordinary days, a complete set of crystal and glass wine vessels could be exchanged for three fine horses in the Mongolian tribes. Now that the trade routes were cut off, these two boxes of wine vessels could buy thirty to forty horses. If the merchant caravan was carrying only these items, intercepting it would be more profitable than plundering dozens of villages.
The local militia found Wu Anguo's words amusing and burst into laughter. They felt a sudden sense of relief; indeed, with 40,000 men, isn't it just a matter of each person firing a few more shots? What is there to be concerned about? They doubted that the Mongolian cavalry could outrun bullets, especially since they were wearing armor. During training, they had seen with their own eyes that arrows could not penetrate from a distance. What was there to fear? Even if they were injured, they still had Xu's ticket office to rely on.
"Make way," Wu Anguo hung his large saber and charged towards Zhu Di with both hands wielding the Naierman weapon. The Mongolian warriors, unwilling to harm their young master, dared not approach and could only yield a path. At this moment, only Zhu Qi remained by Zhu Di's side, frantically swinging his battle knife to fend off attacks, unaware of how many wounds he had sustained, with blood flowing from him like a small stream. Several Mongolian warriors no longer paid him any mind and directly charged at Zhu Di. Hearing the gunfire from elsewhere, Zhu Di gritted his teeth, drew the firearm that Wu Anguo had given him, and fired it. One of the centurions charging at him looked down in disbelief at his chest, where blood gushed from his armor, and with his hands outstretched, he fell from his horse. Meanwhile, Zhang Zhengxin was also unrelenting, firing his guns repeatedly. The Mongolian warriors close to Zhu Di, seeing their companions fall one after another, were unsure how many shots Zhu Di's treasure could fire, and in fear, they scattered to the sides.
"So he is just a bookworm; I thought he was an extraordinary figure," Naha thought to himself. "When Cao Cao froze the sand to build a city during the Three Kingdoms period, he didn't even consider his own strength. Occasionally gaining an advantage makes him bold enough to tug at the whiskers of this commander. This time, I will let you witness the methods of this commander." He waved the red flag forward, pressing both left and right flanks ahead, leaving only the center as a reserve.
After a moment, the Ming army's troops parted to the sides, creating a path. A commanding general, accompanied by two or three attendants, galloped forth from the formation. The general, appearing to be no more than seventeen or eighteen years old, had a bronze-colored face with sharp features, exuding a sense of determination. From a distance, he cupped his hands in greeting towards Wu Anguo and the others, loudly declaring: "Zhu Li, the commander of the Tiger Ben Left Guard, is here on imperial orders to patrol the borders. It is a pleasure to meet all of you heroes. May I ask how the battle is faring?" Upon hearing that he was from the Imperial Forest Army, everyone was greatly surprised. Noticing the general's courteous demeanor, they all returned the gesture with cupped hands.
It is imperative to save Zhu Di; otherwise, everything achieved through appeasement will be completely lost under Zhu Yuanzhang's wrath. Wu Anguo desperately charged towards Zhu Di, hacking, hacking, hacking. The Spring and Autumn sword technique, which originally emphasized more on offense than defense, now consisted solely of attack, with no room for counter-defense. His and Benlei's bodies were drenched in the blood of enemies, unaware of whether they were still foes.
Wang Hao and Li Ling, have the brothers count and tally how many bullets each person has left, Wu Anguo shouted loudly, his voice echoing in the valley. The local militia immediately began to count, and after a while, Wang Hao and Li Ling reported that each person had an average of more than seventy bullets left
With the sound of a gunshot, the curved blade that was about to strike Wu Anguo's back ultimately fell powerless to the ground, never having the chance to "test" the quality of the armor. Zhang Zhengxin had arrived behind his master at some point, holding a firearm in each hand, with borrowed three-barreled guns stuffed at his waist. He raised his hand and knocked the assailant off his horse. The two bodyguards from the Wuwei Escort Agency, Zhan Zhen and Zhan Yi, stood protectively on either side of him. He worked on both sides, taking down the Mongolian warriors who approached Wu Anguo one by one. The attacking warriors had seen firearms before, but those firearms were useless after a single shot; they had never encountered a situation where a firearm could fire endlessly. They were all taken aback, not knowing what kind of treasure Zhang Zhengxin held in his hands. Seizing this opportunity, Wu Anguo shouted loudly, squeezed his horse's belly, and Benlei seemed to understand his master's intent, leaping forward with great force, as if riding the clouds, closing the distance to the red-clad youth to less than five steps.
Forty thousand people, quite a number, each person must aim to fire fifty shots! Tell the brothers to clean their firearms immediately; if anyone's firearm jams halfway through tomorrow, they will be punished to clean the toilets for a month
In a moment of clarity, Zhu Qi finally recognized the banner of the Ming army and, with his last ounce of strength, urged, "Protect the prince." His body slumped down from the horse. "Xiao Qi—" Zhu Di wept inconsolably as he held his childhood companion.
Upon seeing this, Wu Anguo quickly instructed Shisanlang to shout into the valley in Mongolian: "Put down your weapons and come out; those who surrender will not be killed." Shisanlang's voice, having been strained during the earlier negotiations with the Mongolians while escorting the goods, was barely louder than a mosquito's buzz. By the time Wu Anguo realized this and shouted to repeat the message, it was already too late. Only a handful of Mongolian warriors rushed out from the flames, extinguished by the local militia using sand, and thereafter, the valley fell silent. Wu Anguo asked Muhammad to inquire why so few Mongolians had emerged, to which the Mongolians cursed Muhammad for his false compassion. It turned out that the others had been blocked by barbed wire, and these few had been quick to seize the opportunity, crawling through the gaps below.
"Batel, lead your troops to probe ahead," Naha commanded. Immediately, one thousand Mongolian warriors dismounted and charged down the valley. Behind the earthen ramparts, the gunfire crackled, pinning them down in the valley and rendering them unable to move
Where is the general here? Upon seeing Zhu Di's shamelessness, everyone found it amusing and secretly thought, "I wonder which wealthy family's spoiled child has become the commander of the Imperial Guard at such a young age. Fortunately, he hasn't gone to the battlefield; otherwise, it would be quite embarrassing."
The ones lying in ambush here are none other than the brave men of Huairou County. Two days ago, scout leader Wang Feiyu sent someone to report urgently that three Mongolian thousand-man units had taken advantage of the unguarded state of Beikou City to launch a surprise attack. The county magistrate of Beikou was killed in battle, and the county official committed suicide. These three thousand Mongolians killed all the more than ten thousand civilians who had not managed to escape from Beikou City, looted their valuables, and headed eastward. Wherever they passed, they left a trail of burning, killing, and plundering. The governor of Miyun Prefecture did not dare to confront them, hiding in the city while allowing the Mongolians to act recklessly within his territory. It was evident that the Mongolians were heading straight for Huairou.
Unfortunately, this fire has blocked the way; otherwise, we could take advantage of the situation and pursue them. The Mongolian supply camp must be not far behind them, where all the plundered goods are. We could pull off a black-on-black operation, hehe..." Muhammad's voice, mingling with the laughter of the local militia, came from not far away, enlivening the atmosphere around Wu Anguo.
"This is the first time I've had such a thrilling experience with the Tartars. Brother Wu's firearms are truly extraordinary, especially that cannon. In all my years of traveling across the land, I've never seen anything as fierce as this weapon." Thirteen Lang, clearly unaware of the underlying meaning in Wu Anguo's words, responded with some excitement
Since the war with the Mongols began, very few large caravans have dared to venture beyond the borders. Therefore, if this caravan of goods reaches its destination safely, it is likely to be worth at least several hundred thousand taels of silver. It is unknown who possesses such great resources and audacity. The corpulent caravan leader, dressed in a completely black mink coat, has his hands tucked into his sleeves, occasionally pulling them out to warm his frostbitten ears under his fur hat. His eyes, which are usually squinted, occasionally open to reveal a rare blue color; it turns out he is a person from the Islamic world. No wonder he values money over life, daring to head north at this time.
Guo Pu and others, upon hearing of this matter, were filled with both anger and hatred. They resented the Mongolians for their brutality and inhumanity, and were infuriated by the shamelessness of the governor of Miyun. The areas of Huairou and Miyun are in close proximity, and the common people united in their shared enmity, flocking to request participation in the battle. Wu Anguo had long harbored this intention; seeing the people's fervor, he disregarded the small number of local militia and presented the prepared sand table, carefully planning with Shisanlang and others, determined to ensure that these three thousand Mongolian bandits would not return to the northern frontier until their grievances were avenged. The sand table revealed that Shimen Valley was narrow and elongated, making it an excellent location for an ambush, thus they established this plan to lure the enemy.
The Mongolian army had evidently discovered them, as more than twenty fierce Mongolian warriors, led by a centurion, leaped out from their ranks, shouting as they pursued the merchant caravan. The camels, heavily laden, were running slower and slower. After covering five or six miles, the escorting bodyguards had already been caught up by the Mongolian warriors. The leading centurion charged ahead, swinging his sword towards the neck of the person resembling the head escort. However, the head escort did not look back; instead, he used a peculiar sabre to flick the Mongolian curved sword aside, immediately deflecting it. With a swift motion, he then slashed, creating a gash over a foot long on the neck of the Mongolian warrior's steed, blood splattering everywhere. The warhorse let out a long neigh, collapsing on its front legs, desperately trying not to crush its rider beneath it, casting a lingering glance at its master, knowing it would not survive.
The leading young man in red was Naierman, the grandson of Kuo Kuo Tiemuer (Han name Wang Baobao), who was regarded as a remarkable figure by Zhu Yuanzhang and was the most esteemed general in the Mongolian army, now deceased. He was a standout among the young Mongolian nobility, exhibiting much of his ancestor's spirit. Naha Chu held him in great affection and, fearing for his safety, kept him in the rear to proceed slowly, overseeing the transport of provisions, supplies, and siege equipment. Upon hearing reports about the situation in Shimen Valley, concerned that Naha Chu might encounter an unexpected mishap, he left over a hundred men to escort the supplies and swiftly brought all his troops to provide assistance, successfully intercepting the retreating soldiers. Naha Chu held him in great affection and, fearing for his safety, kept him in the rear to proceed slowly, overseeing the transport of provisions, supplies, and siege equipment. Upon hearing reports about the situation in Shimen Valley, concerned that Naha Chu might encounter an unexpected mishap, he left over a hundred men to escort the supplies and swiftly brought all his troops to provide assistance, successfully intercepting the retreating soldiers
Unexpectedly, our forces recently broke through Beikou City. When Naha heard this news, he nearly jumped up. The reputation of Huairou as a prosperous place has been widely spread by merchant caravans across the grasslands. Beikou City is in close proximity to Huairou, and currently, the defenses of Beipingwei are weak. If we capture Huairou City and take all the steel-making craftsmen beyond the Great Wall, it would be equivalent to seizing endless steel. At that time, we would no longer have to be pursued everywhere by that old barbarian Xu Da. If we capture Guo Pu and Wu Anguo, we must persuade them to surrender. What good is the Han court? It only engages in internal strife and buries heroes. It is far better to follow me and create a lasting empire like Genghis Khan. A hundred years ago, a Han hero with the same surname Guo led Mongolian warriors to the Danube River. The Mongols will never treat heroes poorly, and there has never been a charge of 'fabricated evidence.' A hundred years ago, a Han hero with the same surname Guo led Mongolian warriors to the Danube River. The Mongols will never treat heroes poorly, and there has never been a charge of 'fabricated evidence.'
The previous escort for the camel caravan was a genuine expert from the Huairou County Wuwei Escort Agency, who had volunteered for the task. The one posing as the head escort was none other than Shisanlang himself. The owner of the trading team was played by the school teacher, Muhammad. Before their departure, Yang Laohan, the owner of the carpenter's shop who had already opened a branch in the city, fearing for Wu Anguo's safety, sawed open the dragon skin he had kept unused and, along with Zhang Wu and others, worked overnight to produce two sets of armor for Wu Anguo and Xiao Zhang Zhengxin. The dragon skin armor was both light and sturdy, with key areas reinforced with plates, making it difficult for ordinary weapons, except for firearms, to harm Wu Anguo and his disciples.
The beards of the Mongols symbolize their dignity. The commander of the army, deeply insulted by this, was furious. Upon learning that the opposing force consisted of only a few dozen bodyguards, he felt even more emboldened. With his curved sword pointed forward, several centurions under his command immediately led their troops in a fierce charge, eager to capture the enemy and devour them alive. They managed to pursue the enemy to within half a mile of the exit when suddenly, with a loud "boom," a cannonball struck the Mongolian troops, instantly sending four or five riders flying into the air. Following this cannon fire, two to three hundred people emerged from the previously silent valley entrance, holding black tubes with wooden handles, arranged in three rows. Just as they reached within half a mile of the exit, the cannon fired again, and another cannonball fell among the Mongolian forces, causing more riders to be blown into the sky. The black tubes were actually new-style firearms that the Mongols had never seen before. The charging Mongolian army was immediately shattered like a stream crashing against rocks, their ranks broken and scattered. The leading Mongolian warriors fell from their horses like cut stalks of grain. Occasionally, a warhorse would be hit, blood gushing from its mouth and nose, pooling on the ground and mingling with the blood of the fallen, forming a small stream. Meanwhile, on both sides of the hills, countless individuals dressed in strange garments of gray and yellow, similar to those at the valley entrance, appeared, each wearing a round iron pot on their heads and firing downwards with their firearms. The only difference was that the people at the valley entrance fired in continuous volleys, while those on the hilltops aimed at their targets.
Shisanlang desperately held back Zhu Qi, who could no longer distinguish between friend and foe. Wu Anguo protected Zhu Di as they charged towards their own men, with more and more Imperial Guards gathering around them. Seeing that Zhu Di was unharmed, the morale of the Imperial Guards soared, and they gradually came together. The Huairou Iron Cavalry, caught in the middle, was inspired by Zhang Zhengxin and took the opportunity to draw their firearms, specifically targeting the Mongolian officers. After several clashes, various forces converged, returning to a spearhead formation. The Huairou Iron Cavalry, caught in the middle, was inspired by Zhang Zhengxin and took the opportunity to draw their firearms, specifically targeting the Mongolian officers. After several clashes, various forces converged, returning to a spearhead formation.
A firework rose from behind the sand fort, scattering a dark cloud in the sky. There was an ambush, and Naha was momentarily taken aback, only to see hundreds of long-knife wielders charging out from behind the sand fort, standing by the riverbank ready to engage in hand-to-hand combat with the Mongolian warriors. He couldn't help but shake his head repeatedly, sighing for the fate of the opponents behind the sand fort. A bookworm, with so few people, what use is an ambush? Soon they will be reduced to dust along with the sand fort.
Wang Feiyu, without waiting to catch his breath, reported in a fragmented manner: "Thirty to forty thousand Mongolian troops, less than two days' journey from here." It turned out that he had gone far to scout and received urgent news from his subordinates. The day before, a large contingent of Mongolian cavalry had invaded from Beikou City (now known as Gubeikou, where General Zhang Zhizhong had once led his troops in a bloody battle against the Japanese). Unlike the previous group that had plundered everywhere, this one was heading straight for Huairou. He hurried back on horseback to report, but was blocked by a great fire on the other side of the valley. Relying on his climbing skills, he managed to avoid delaying the message.
It is too late; let us see if the dragon skin armor can withstand this blow. Wu Anguo had a fleeting thought as his large blade swung towards another warrior charging at him. At worst, they would die together; they could still fight another battle on the road to the underworld.
"Halt!" The leader of the caravan, dressed in black armor, raised his left hand, and the entire camel train immediately came to a stop. The leader dismounted and crouched down to listen. He quickly got back on his horse and made a strange gesture, causing the porters to become tense and work hard to change the direction of the camels. The escort took out a dark, cylindrical object from his bosom and looked into the distance, the billowing flags confirming his assessment.
I have long heard of the great reputation of the Military Canon History from Marshal Xu. Recently, our dynasty suffered a significant defeat of the Mongols beyond the Great Wall, and the repeating crossbow contributed greatly to this victory. If it were not for someone deliberately creating difficulties, the Military Canon History would have already been granted a noble title. The weapons in the hands of these brothers must be the latest fine tools produced under the supervision of the Military Canon History, though I am unsure of their usage. It is evident that the iron tubes used to block the charge of the Mongolian cavalry are in the hands of the local militia. Zhu Di immediately showed great interest and began to flatter Wu Anguo.