The wind rises at the end of the Ming Dynasty

Beneath the dark black banner, Li Yan had already donned armor and donned a helmet.

Beside him were five thousand armored cavalrymen from the elite cavalry battalion, who served as his personal guards.

Hong Niangzi, dressed in a red robe with a belt, stood beside him on horseback, tightly holding Li Yan's left hand.

Everything was like being in the deep, dark prison of Qi County.

Li Yan's eyes were bloodshot as he stared intently at the stalemate in the distance.

He witnessed the collapse of the Shandong Town's lines, the assault of the elite cavalry, and the chaotic retreat of the Jingnan Army's cavalry.

I also witnessed the collapse of the elite cavalry under the artillery fire of the Jingnan Army, and saw the elite cavalry scatter and flee...

However, Li Yan did not order the Vanguard Battalion to withdraw, nor did he order his troops to regroup.

"This is the last chance..."

Li Yan's knuckles turned white from excessive force, and the veins on the back of his hand, gripping the reins, bulged.

A fierce wind swept across the plain, carrying a foul stench, and ruffled the loose strands of hair beneath Li Yan's helmet, but he was completely oblivious to it.

His eyes were bloodshot, like a gambler who had been up for three days and three nights, staring intently at the final outcome of the game on the gambling table.

He has staked everything on it: the lives of 400,000 soldiers of the Wanmin Army, and the fate of millions of people in the six prefectures of the Southern Kingdom.

The collapse of the Jingnan Army on the western front finally gave him a glimmer of hope for victory.

As long as we can regain control of the west, as long as we defeat the right wing of the Jingnan Army, as long as we defeat the Shandong garrison.

They can persevere, and they can continue to stabilize the situation.

Zheng Zhilong will also be hesitant to act rashly and will begin to consider whether he should really make his move now.

The fall of the Ming capital was inevitable; all that was needed was to hold out until the Qing army marched south…

distance.

Every flash of light from the volley of gunfire reflected in Li Yan's bloodshot eyes.

Each cavalry charge made Li Yan's temples throb.

"Let the Divine Machine Battalion press forward again!"

Li Yan issued another military order.

Yuan Shizhong looked at Li Yan with some fear.

Li Yan, who had always been gentle and refined, now had a ferocious expression.

Even Yuan Shizhong, who had been by his side for a long time, felt fear at that unfamiliar appearance.

"The Shenji Battalion has just reorganized, suffering over a thousand casualties. The soldiers have no will to fight, and the generals are incompetent..."

As a result of the defeat, Li Yan ordered the execution of as many as forty officers of the rank of battalion commander and above.

This even included three battalion commanders, who had followed Li Yan through thick and thin from Henan.

Yuan Shizhong didn't finish his sentence; he didn't dare look Li Yan in the eye.

Military orders were passed down level by level.

As the general's flag waved, the Shenji Battalion soldiers, still reeling from their grief and defeat, slowly advanced under the reprimands of their officers and generals.

The armored cavalry of the elite cavalry battalion had already taken to the front lines, their cold gazes sweeping across the entire formation.

Anyone who dares to disobey military orders will be mercilessly cut down and trampled into mincemeat by their iron cavalry.

The soldiers of the Wanmin Army, acting as the supervisors, formed a battle formation and blocked the retreat route of the Wanmin Army soldiers at the front.

There was only one path left before them—forward.

Forward, forward, forward!

Until they collapsed completely, until death came...

Wave after wave of Wanmin Army soldiers were deployed to the western front.

The sound of gunfire echoed continuously from the Shandong Town front, and the originally orderly volleys of gunfire had become scattered.

Faced with the overwhelming tide of soldiers from the Wanmin Army, the gunners of Shandong Town were unable to organize a volley and were all firing freely.

The soldiers of the Wanmin Army were driven forward, crashing into the ironclad defenses of Shandong Town wave after wave.

They staggered forward, their feet treading on the still-warm corpses of their comrades.

Blood dripped from their trouser legs, the thick plasma soaking through their straw sandals, leaving one dark red footprint after another on the frozen ground.

The mountains of corpses and seas of blood piled up on the western front, forming a shocking, blood-red dike.

The iron cavalry of the supervisory team patrolled behind, their gleaming sabers flashing coldly from time to time.

As dusk deepened, the setting sun shone like blood.

The fiery sunset dyed the entire western horizon a blood-red hue.

The golden sunset teetered precariously on the smoke-filled horizon.

On the battlefield of Shandong Town, the shadows of the Jingnan Army soldiers were stretched long, twisting into eerie shapes on the blood-red earth.

Wu Ping gripped the musket tightly in his hand, mechanically repeating the actions of loading and firing.

The pungent smell of gunpowder residue had permeated his clothes.

With each breath, his mouth and nose reeked of gunpowder and blood.

Wu Ping had no idea how many shots he had fired with his Sea Oath gun.

Wu Ping only knew that the Sea Oath Gun in his hand had long exceeded the maximum number of consecutive shots set by the Ordnance Bureau.

Every shot carried the risk of the gun exploding.

But now, who has time to care about these trivial details?
At this point, they no longer had any more Sea Oath guns to exchange for.

There was no longer any cover behind them.

Once this last line of defense is breached by the Wanmin Army's armored soldiers, all of them will be slaughtered.

His fingers were no longer under his control, and the loading speed was terribly slow.

The black powder residue made the gun mechanism increasingly sluggish.

After each shot, he had to painstakingly clean the barrel with a cleaning rod.

Wu Ping's thumb was rubbed raw by the flint ignition mechanism, leaving bloodstains on the paper-wrapped gunpowder during loading.

The pain in his fingers, coupled with the constant tension in his heart and the stimulation of battlefield blood and death, caused Wu Ping's vision to blur.

"boom!"

Wu Ping raised the Hai Shi gun in his hand. He could feel the gun getting hot, but Wu Ping pulled the trigger again.

He saw a soldier from the Wanmin Army who had just tripped and fallen to his feet sway in front of him, then collapse weakly to the ground.

But now, there's no time for him to calculate his gains.

Wu Ping put down the Sea Oath Gun and started loading it again.

In his panic, Wu Ping accidentally touched the barrel of the Hai Shi gun while picking up the ramrod.

The gun barrel was frighteningly hot after continuous firing; with just a light touch, Wu Ping's finger was already scalded with a sizable blister.

"You dog's sack...you dog's sack..."

Wu Ping's expression was ferocious as he cursed desperately, fear almost devouring his heart.

He clenched his back teeth tightly, and veins bulged on his forehead.

The constant pain disturbed Wu Ping's mind, making his movements increasingly sluggish.

"Oh!"

A huge explosion suddenly rang out beside me.

Wu Ping was startled and turned toward the direction from which the sound came from.

His worst fears came true again: another overused Sea Oath Gun finally gave way and reached the end of its lifespan.

Wu Ping saw a stranger lying on the ground not far away, groaning in pain.

The soldier's face was blown to pieces, a sharp fragment of the gun barrel embedded deep in his right eye, blood mixed with the gelatinous substance from his eyeball gushing down his cheek.

The exploding musket even injured several musketeers around the soldier.

The soldier tried to cover his injured face with his hands in agony, but his right and left hands were also blown to pieces, and several of his fingers were missing.

The auxiliary soldiers responsible for transporting and treating the wounded silently stepped forward and lifted him onto a stretcher.

However, no one offered any medical treatment to the seriously wounded gunner.

A soldier slowly drew a short knife from his waist and, with trembling hands, placed it against the neck of the wailing gunman.

Soon, the mournful cries faded away on the front lines.

Everything seemed as if nothing had happened.

The flames spewing from the gun barrels were particularly dazzling in the twilight.

Wu Ping closed his eyes in anguish.

It wasn't just guns.

They, too, have reached their limit.

"Clang—" The crisp sound of metal clashing pierced through the noise of the battlefield and rang clearly in Wu Ping's ears.

Wu Ping turned around abruptly and looked at the central bastion.

In the direction of the central army, the huge general's flag was waving rapidly.

At the same time, the sound of orderly hooves came from both flanks.

Squads of armored cavalry clad in red armor surged toward their position from both flanks like a tidal wave.

Wu Ping trembled; he could hardly believe his ears.

The sound that rang out was the golden gong signaling the retreat, and the swaying general's flag conveyed the order to withdraw!
The cavalry that came to their aid from both flanks were there to cover their retreat.

"withdraw!"

On the front line, officers of all ranks shouted orders the instant they heard the golden gong, issuing commands to the soldiers who were still in a daze.

"Get out!"

"We can leave now!"

Some people wept with joy.

"Hurry, hurry! The Wanmin Army's armored soldiers are pressing in!"

Some people were shouting nervously, their faces filled with fear as they kept backing away.

Wu Ping stared blankly at the general's flag waving in the center of the army. Before the joy of surviving the ordeal could even well up in his heart, the sudden shouts of the Wanmin Army suppressed him again.

Wu Ping turned around, controlling himself from looking at the Wanmin Army soldiers surging behind him like a tide, and ran back as fast as he could.

The repeated battles had pushed everyone's physical and mental strength to the limit, and Wu Ping felt as if he were walking on cotton with every step.

It feels light and airy, almost unreal.

"Stop taking out the guns, they're all lost, all lost!"

Someone was shouting loudly. Wu Ping recognized the voice as that of their company's captain.

Upon hearing the urgent shouts, Wu Ping suddenly realized that he was still holding the Hai Shi gun, which was nearing its limit.

"Take off your armor, what the hell are you all thinking? Run!"

Wu Ping gritted his teeth, dropped the Sea Oath musket, and then began to loosen his belt.
However, his hands were shaking violently, and his knuckles were very stiff from gripping the gun and loading it for a long time.

He awkwardly tried to undo his belt, but it was so slippery, covered in gunpowder and blood, that he couldn't pull it off no matter what he did.

In his panic, Wu Ping reached for the dagger at his waist.

Without a second thought, Wu Ping drew his dagger and slashed open his belt.

The belt with the iron buckle fell to the ground with a soft thud.

But such a faint sound was so barely audible among the fleeing crowd.

Wu Ping threw his cotton armor to the ground.

He used the same trick again, cutting open the iron arm bindings with a dagger.

With the heavy burden removed, Wu Ping felt much lighter.

The running speed has finally increased significantly.

However, without the warmth of the padded jacket, facing the howling north wind, Wu Ping gradually felt his body getting colder.

Beneath his cotton armor, he wore only a thin, mandarin duck-patterned battle jacket. His sweat instantly turned into icy frost, and the frigid air had already soaked through his clothes.

Wu Ping felt as if his lungs were on fire, and his throat tasted of blood.

With each breath, the icy air felt like a knife scraping across my throat.

But he dared not stop, nor could he stop.

Behind.

The shouts of battle grew louder and louder.

The thunderous sound of horses' hooves continued incessantly, accompanied by cries of pain, angry curses, and the dull thud of swords slicing through flesh.

Wu Ping knew that the cavalry covering them had already engaged the enemy.

“Don’t look back!”

"run!"

The sergeant's voice rang in Wu Ping's ears one last time, consisting of only two short sentences, five words.

……

Wu Ping didn't know how long he had been running. His whole body was ice cold, and his legs had lost all feeling. He was just moving forward mechanically.

By the time he came to his senses, the sky had completely darkened.

There was no one around him.

In the distance, a few lonely lights flickered in the night, like sparks blown by the wind, flashing on and off.

Wu Ping knew that the faint light came from his own bastion.

Wu Ping stopped walking. His physical and mental strength had reached its limit, and he could no longer continue.

Was his life saved?

He dared not fall down. In this weather, he was only wearing a thin cotton-padded coat. If he fell down, he might never be able to stand up again.

Wu Ping staggered forward like a walking corpse, heading towards the nearest bastion.

Their compatriots inside the bastion should be able to lend them a helping hand.

After all, they were not in a rout; they only retreated after receiving orders from the army.

There will surely be people coming to meet them at the fortresses along the way.

Wu Ping was annoyed. He should have thought of this sooner. Now he didn't know if he had the strength to run to the nearest fortress.

They could have easily survived.

It was already possible...

Wu Ping was filled with resentment, but his vision was becoming increasingly blurred; he had truly reached his limit.

The distant firelight of the bastion in his eyes transformed into the lanterns of his hometown during the Lantern Festival that year.

“Chunniang…”

Wu Ping raised his hand and reached out to grab something in front of him.

His late wife stood there smiling, holding his daughter and waving at him.

The sight of his wife and children standing under the lamp was brighter than any torch he had ever seen in his life.

However, the figure he had been longing for soon disappeared from Wu Ping's sight.

Wu Ping seemed to hear his daughter's giggles and Chunniang humming the lullaby to lull him to sleep.

Tears completely blurred Wu Ping's vision as he recalled the pain he had suppressed deep in his heart.

"Sorry……"

Wu Ping slowly closed his eyes and murmured to himself.

In his final moments, he felt only remorse and self-reproach for his cowardice and incompetence.

Wu Ping lowered his hand; he could no longer walk.

It's all time to come to an end.

Wu Ping stood rooted to the spot, having lost all his faith, his body fell forward uncontrollably.

However, he did not fall to the cold ground.

A strong arm held him firmly in place.

"Now is not the time to give up."

Then a heavy cotton cloak was draped over him.

Wu Ping was somewhat taken aback, his mind filled with confusion.

When he finally managed to open his eyes, he witnessed a scene he would never forget.

Countless torches burned fiercely in the cold wind, illuminating the surrounding plains as bright as day.

The firelight flickered, sometimes bright and sometimes dim.

It reflects a face with sharp, angular features.

Beneath his sword-like eyebrows, a pair of eagle-like eyes were as clear and bright as a cold pool.

Although it was their first meeting, Wu Ping felt extremely familiar with the face.

Those eyes, those sharp, hawk-like eyes—Wu Ping remembered seeing them on someone's face before.

On the outskirts of Yangzhou, on the eve of the start of the great battle, their commander, the Earl of Jingnan, led his armored cavalry across the battlefield.

He was standing in the first row at the time.

The eyes before me are exactly the same as those of the Marquis of Jingnan! (End of Chapter)