The wind rises at the end of the Ming Dynasty

Eastern suburbs of Jining.

Fuhe River.

In April, the Fuhe River is icy cold.

Large numbers of defeated Qing soldiers crowded together on the riverbank.

At this moment, the south bank of the Fuhe River has been completely transformed into a purgatory of despair.

Large numbers of defeated Qing soldiers crowded together on the muddy riverbank like headless flies.

People were packed together, jostling and pushing, creating a chaotic scene resembling a pot of boiling porridge.

The roars, cries, and curses mingled with the rushing sound of the icy river, creating a suffocating atmosphere.

Occasionally, unfortunate soldiers would be pushed into the surging Fu River during the frenzied shoving.

The icy river water instantly swallowed their screams; only a few managed to struggle to their feet in the swift current, futilely reaching out their arms towards the boats that were so close at hand.

Behind them, the infantry of the Jingnan Army were constantly squeezing the limited space.

The Jingnan Army infantrymen on the periphery were not in a hurry to launch a melee attack.

The scene before me was far too chaotic.

Tens of thousands of desperate, routed soldiers crowded onto the narrow riverbank.

Rashly deploying well-organized infantry for close-quarters mopping-up operations could easily lead to a desperate counterattack from routed troops in the ensuing chaos, resulting in unnecessary casualties.

So they simply maintained their orderly formation and, to the sound of bugles, slowly and methodically fired at the routed Qing soldiers.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The roar of volleys echoed across the riverbank, and each volley from the Jingnan Army triggered desperate screams and even more frantic pushing and shoving among the routed Qing troops.

This efficient killing drove more fleeing soldiers toward the Fu River, exacerbating the chaos and trampling on the riverbank.

Driven by the instinct for survival, these routed Qing soldiers frantically tried to escape this land of death.

They swarmed toward the few boats moored on the shore, climbing upwards with all their might.

The crowd was extremely dense, and people were pulling and trampling each other in order to be the first to board the ship.

The soldiers who had already boarded the ship looked in horror at the Jingnan army chasing after them from all directions, but showed no intention of resisting.

They just wanted to get the boat across the river as quickly as possible and escape from hell.

However, how could the many soldiers who had not boarded the ship be willing to let their hope of survival slip away?

The surging crowd rose and fell continuously, and soldiers who had not yet boarded the ship desperately clung to the edge of the boat, some even jumping into the water to try to climb aboard.

Both sides' soldiers were blinded by rage and had completely lost their reason.

To protect themselves and to get the boat moving, the soldiers on board picked up any weapon at hand—oars, knives, and even their fists.

They frantically slashed and struck at those trying to climb aboard the boat and into the water.

"Go away!"

"Don't come aboard, the ship is sinking!"

"Let me up, please!"

Pleading, roaring, screaming, splashing, and the sound of weapons piercing flesh echoed over the icy Fu River.

Overloaded boats kept losing their balance and being suddenly overturned in the frantic pushing and struggling.

Soldiers screamed as they fell from the capsized boats into the turbulent, icy Fu River, where they were instantly swallowed by the turbid waves.

Those few dozen boats managed to avoid the surging crowds.

However, some boats were severely overloaded and had an extremely deep draft.

Having traveled only a short distance, it was struck by a small wave, causing it to rock violently and capsize. Ultimately, it could not escape its fate of sinking, burying all hope of survival for the people on board to the bottom of the river...

On the south bank of the Fu River, soldiers were scrambling for boats, but many more Qing soldiers, fleeing from the enemy lines, were desperately rushing toward the few makeshift pontoon bridges as if they had found their last lifeline.

On the surface of the river.

The pontoon bridge, originally intended for passage, was now twisted and deformed, and densely packed with Qing army soldiers who were trying to cross it.

The defeated Qing soldiers swarmed forward like ants, desperately vying for the slim chance to cross the river.

After being repeatedly annihilated by Mongol light cavalry.

The Qing army on the south bank of the Fu River had been completely routed and had lost all its organization. Large numbers of soldiers were crowding the riverbank in panic.

More and more people rushed onto the pontoon bridge despite the risks, but the weight that the pontoon bridge used for the transition can bear is ultimately limited.

The waterline of the pontoon bridge grew deeper and deeper, and everyone noticed the terrifying situation, but no one was willing to retreat and leave the pontoon bridge at this moment.

The crowd surged wildly, and people were constantly being pushed off the bridge into the water, letting out shrill screams, only to be swallowed by the icy river or trampled by the crowd.

And then more and more people stepped on the bodies and even the heads of their comrades, surging toward the pontoon bridge.

south.

The continuous firing of guns and cannons by the Jingnan Army further exacerbated the panic of the fleeing soldiers.

These terrified and desperate soldiers surged toward the pontoon bridge like a tidal wave.

In the face of life and death, everyone is consumed by the instinct to survive and the fear of death.

Countless bloodshot eyes were fixed on the rickety pontoon bridge, every inch of the bridge surface becoming a battlefield where soldiers fought for their lives.

The pontoon bridge was surrounded by crimson, and the flowing blood had almost stained the water's surface red.

The strong smell of blood mixed with the steam was nauseating.

Beside the pontoon bridge, the scene had already become a veritable hell on earth.

Beneath the feet of those who were still alive lay countless corpses, their internal organs exposed and almost trampled beyond recognition.

Some wounded soldiers, still alive, were twitching amidst the piles of corpses, but were quickly trampled to death by those who followed, eventually being swallowed up by the blood and mud.

As more and more defeated soldiers climbed onto the pontoon bridge, one of the smaller pontoon bridges was the first to give way and was swallowed by the surging, icy waters of the Fuhe River.

The terrified screams were instantly swallowed by the surging waves, and desperate cries spread throughout the Fu River.

The people who fell into the water struggled in the rapids, and many were swallowed by the river before they could even call for help.

On the turbulent surface of the Fu River, turbid waves rolled and one after another relentlessly crashed against the shore.

The surging waves crashed down, carrying mud, sand, and despairing people to the bottom of the water.

The air was filled with chilling wails, each one a testament to the fear of death and the yearning for life.

The shadow of death loomed over the Qing army's routed soldiers.

The safe zone on the opposite bank of the river.

It was clearly only a few dozen meters.

But at this moment, it seems so far away.

South and south of the Fu River, the sharp whistles of the Jingnan Army rose and fell like death knells, and the crimson banners were like spirit flags summoning souls from the netherworld.

Chen Wang, riding his chestnut horse, stopped on a makeshift mound of earth, coldly watching the Qing army soldiers fleeing across the river on the south bank of the Fu River.

There was not a shred of pity in his heart.

In the Battle of Songjin in history, the troops of the Eight Garrisons suffered a crushing defeat. On their way back, they were ambushed by the Qing army, resulting in their defeat and scattering. Many of the remaining soldiers fled to the coastal beaches.

The Qing army's infantry and cavalry surrounded them, trapping them completely. The remnants of the Ming army, in dire straits, still lined up with their backs to the sea and fought a final, desperate battle against the Qing army, resulting in a stalemate.

However, the sea suddenly rose, and the tide surged in. The Qing army surrounded the beach with a large force, waiting for the tide to swallow everything.

Exhausted from prolonged fighting and with no hope of breaking out, the Ming army found themselves trapped in a desperate situation on both land and sea, eventually sinking into the ocean.

The Shenguanlu records:
"On the 25th, the day of Wuchen, the Han soldiers went out overnight, intending to go to Xingta. The Qing army blocked their return route. Tens of thousands of infantry and cavalry retreated to the seaside, where they were attacked by the Qing army. They drowned as the tide rose, and many corpses piled up on land and sea..."

"...The Qing people searched and killed for three days, which was extremely cruel, but the Han people regarded death as going home and few of them begged to surrender."

"The Qing people also spoke of this matter: they supported their generals, stood in the sea, stretched out their arms to shield them from arrows, and ensured that they did not lose their respect.

However, unlike the Qing army soldiers who were in complete chaos and scrambling to cross the river to escape, this was different.

As the tide rose and the Qing army pressed in, the routed Ming soldiers still clung to their general, trying to shield him from the arrows with their bodies, and were thus swallowed by the surging tide...

Perhaps in this world, there truly is destiny, and all things are truly interconnected.

In the Battle of Yamen, 100,000 soldiers and civilians perished together, drowning in the sea, marking the end of the Southern Song Dynasty.

In the Battle of Songjin, the remnants of the Ming army were trapped on the beach and drowned, thus extinguishing the last hope of the Ming Empire to salvage its precarious situation. Water, which once nurtured Chinese civilization, carried ships on long voyages and facilitated territorial expansion.

Water has also swallowed up nations and societies, and in its sweeping flow, it has brought about the destruction of the world.

The sons of the Han dynasty seem to have a fateful entanglement with "water"—they rise because of water, and they perish because of water.

These mighty rivers and surging oceans can be the lifeblood of a nation, or the tomb that buries a dynasty.

A myriad of thoughts converged and surged in Chen Wang's mind like an undercurrent.

His gaze swept over the bloody chaos along the banks of the Fu River.

Now, the riverside scene unfolds before his eyes like a reflection of history.

Only the roles of the one wielding the knife and the one being slaughtered have been reversed.

Today, on the banks of the Fuhe River in Jining, the waters are once again stained red with blood.

Historical scenes are repeating themselves in another way.

……

The sky was dyed crimson, and the sun shone brightly.

As the sun sets in the west, the blood-red sunset illuminates the blood-stained earth.

The world was ablaze with crimson, making it difficult to distinguish between the glow of dawn and the stains of blood.

Corpses lay strewn across the field, and all was silent.

Humans are as insignificant as ants, their lives as worthless as grass.

With the last scattered gunshots, the last few Qing soldiers who had knelt and begged for mercy fell into the muddy pool of blood on the south bank of the Fuhe River, and never spoke again.

The crimson sunset reflected in Chen Wang's eyes.

The biting wind was icy and bone-chilling, and the fluttering of the banners echoed in Chen Wang's ears.

The air was filled with a strong, pungent smell of blood and an unpleasant odor of decay.

The grass on the ground was already stained red and soaked with blood.

In addition to the rainwater that had accumulated earlier, the muddy riverbed was also covered with a thick layer of blood.

The land here was already difficult to walk on due to the continuous rain, and now it was stained with blood, with corpses piled up haphazardly. Every step required extra caution, otherwise one could easily trip and fall in this deadly swamp.

Heaven and earth were silent, only deathly stillness remained.

Chen Wang looked around and saw that all the soldiers were standing at attention with their guns in hand.

Countless gazes pierced through the blood-red twilight, all focusing on him alone.

Chen Wang's gaze slowly swept across the faces of the soldiers on various fronts on the riverbank.

One by one, faces bathed in the crimson glow of the setting sun, each with a different expression, appeared in his field of vision.

Pairs of eyes, stained crimson with blood and displaying different expressions, slowly appeared in his field of vision.

Further away, a group of cavalrymen stood in the countryside, bathed in the afterglow of the setting sun. Thousands of banners swayed gently in the river breeze, and the congealed bloodstains on the banners blended with the crimson glow of the sunset.

The sunset on the horizon looked eerily red, as if it had been stained with blood.

Chen Wang raised his hand, and the group of guards behind him, who were holding swords and bows, all stopped in their tracks.

Chen Wang stopped at the very front of them, standing alone amidst the mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

A gentle river breeze caressed Chen Wang's cheek.

Chen Wang gazed at the devastated battlefield before him.

The subtle sound of the wind in his ears stirred ripples in Chen Wang's usually calm heart.

ended.

all.

It's finally all over...

Eight years of hardship, eight years of struggle, eight years of blood and tears.

Everything has finally come to an end at this moment.

All the sacrifices and perseverance.

This moment finally brought it to a close.

The torrent of the times carries the fate of individuals.

The fate of being trapped by the times can only rise and fall with the times.

Living is the simplest thing, yet it is also the hardest.

In the torrent of time, everyone is simply swept forward, and even with desperate struggles, they still feel extremely powerless.

The waves were turbulent and the current was swift; a slight misstep could lead to death.

Chen Wang's fingers slowly tightened, firmly gripping the goose-feather knife at his waist.

The cold touch of the knife hilt made Chen Wang's mind even clearer.

fate.

Now it is finally in his own hands.

However, Chen Wang felt little joy at this moment.

The supreme position, which symbolizes supreme power and attracts the attention of all, is only one step away from him.

But how should we proceed in the future?
His heart was calm, even tinged with an indescribable sadness and heaviness.

He was not, after all, a ruthless and cruel tyrant who could regard the common people as worthless.

Along the way, too many of his soldiers fell on the road ahead.

Chen Wang slowly exhaled a breath of stale air and sighed deeply.

He loosened his grip on the waist knife and untied the reed pipe hanging from his waist.

The mournful and desolate sound of the bili (a type of reed pipe) seemed to weep and lament, slowly spreading across the mountains of corpses and rivers of blood.

The cold wind blowing from the north swirled upwards, carrying the music, passing over countless tattered banners, and brushing against the young faces that had fallen and were now forever asleep on the road ahead.

The deep, resonant sound of the bili (a type of reed pipe) drifted slowly through the quiet twilight.
Over the centuries, countless loyal souls have been buried in the wilderness, both inside and outside the Great Wall.

Ultimately, the mournful and melodious sound of the bili (a type of reed instrument) accompanied their souls as they returned to heaven and earth.

Accompanied by the deep and resonant sound of the bili (a type of reed pipe), low singing also emanated from the Jingnan Army's ranks.

"With everyone united as one, even mountains can be shaken."

At first, the singing was very faint, just a few old soldiers' hoarse low murmurs.

However, more people joined shortly afterward.

"Only loyalty and righteousness... their spirit soars to the heavens."

The military songs were sung softly, no longer displaying the high spirits of the pre-battle era.

"...The orders are clear, and rewards and punishments are readily available."

"Facing fire and water, how dare I linger!"

That was a triumphant song, usually sung in times of victory, but at this moment it contained a deep sorrow.

"To report to the nation above, and to save the common people below."

"Slay all the invaders, brothers united in hatred!"

The clouds are misty.

The water stretches endlessly.

Chen Wang slowly put down the reed pipe, letting its last lingering sound disappear into the blood-red twilight, and murmured softly:

"Before leaving the seabed, a thousand mountains are dark; only when reaching the heavens do ten thousand countries become bright."

"Bright and vast light illuminates the long night, obscuring countless faint stars."

"From this aspiration arose a great ambition, and I stepped forward to save all living beings."

"Hold fast to this ambition, and it will endure forever; fight a hundred battles, and usher in an era of peace." (End of Chapter)