The Ming Dynasty began from Sarhu

Chapter 354 Sangui, Don’t Forget Your Father’s Will

The walls of the thatched hut where Vasily Boyarkov, captain of the Tsarist Russian Far East expedition, lived were covered with drawings he brought from Moscow.

Some of the drawings were framed, while others were not. They were mainly works in the Baroque style (Note 1) by European painters such as Caravaggio and Carracci.

Of course, these paintings are all copies.

It is said that the Eastern Emperor was very interested in European painting art and was willing to spend a lot of money to purchase it for collection.

Boyarkov was a businessman at heart—aside from his occasional cannibalism—and he fancied himself a gentleman of the civilized world.

He fantasized about being able to reach the capital of the Ming Dynasty smoothly, meet the Ming emperor, and sell all the original works at a good price, just like his predecessor Petlin (Note 2).

That would be more meaningful than robbing the furs of the Solon and Daur people here.

Several Daur leaders were imprisoned in the camp. Due to lack of food and water, these barbarians were tortured to the point of being on the verge of death.

The Siberian merchants spared their lives, certainly not out of a change of heart. Boyarkov planned to use these barbarians as hostages—just like Columbus and his men—to extort furs and pearls from the local natives.

While Vasily was still immersed in Baroque art, the Cossack leader - his subordinate - Osip Stepanich Dymov, an officer with red hair on his chest, came in from outside.

"Holy Mother, it's freezing out there, the birds are dying."

"May the Virgin Mary bless you."

The word "birds" is a pun here, and it refers not only to the birds flying home outside the camp.

The two civilized people hugged each other, kissed each other, and then greeted each other. The Siberian merchant brought tea and poured it into the cup. The straw hut was filled with hot steam, full of Moscow style.

Dymov, who looked like a Ussuri brown bear, tilted his thick neck back, drank his tea in one gulp, and went straight to the point.

"Mr. Vasily, His Majesty the Emperor has sent us all the way to the East to punish the barbarians."

Varseypoyarkov nodded slightly. He had a pair of big blue eyes, which he used to see through the world and show his leadership charm to his subordinates.

"Then why are we staying on this broken island where birds are freezing to death, instead of conquering the warmer south? Previous explorers have said that Kremlin (the Tsarist name for the Forbidden City) is magnificent, especially the marble that looks as white as snow. The city is very populous, and the market is full of gems, gold, silver, velvet, silk, and brocade. The Chinese, both men and women, are very clean, and their handicrafts and commerce are very developed, but their army is not good at fighting, and when they do fight, they are very cowardly, like rats in the Moscow sewers. As a commander, you are not acting like an explorer, but a cowardly businessman."

Boyarkov chuckled at his Cossack men.

He is a businessman and needs to consider the risks and benefits.

“Yes, I am a businessman.”

Boyarkov blinked his blue eyes, which were full of wisdom in the light of the bear oil lamp.

"Four hundred men, half of them refugees, are you counting on them to capture Kremlin? Are you possessed by a shaman? His Majesty lives in Moscow and knows nothing about the situation in the Far East. And what about you, Your Excellency Dymov?"

"The previous expedition just encountered an enemy on Sakhalin Island, the island we're standing on, and they were completely wiped out. That's why you and I are here. Dymov, I need to emphasize again that our opponents are not Jurchen soldiers with cheap matchlock rifles slung over their shoulders, nor are they Saurons who can only throw spears, arrows, and stones. They are real warriors."

Dymov filled his cup with hot tea, snorted, and said with disdain:

"Warriors? They're just some of the household servants. I heard from Ao Bai that in the Ming army, there are only a hundred household servants for every ten thousand men. They're just a few biting rats at best! And we have a full four hundred of them this time, four hundred fully armed men! We can crush their heads with our bare hands. Let's keep moving forward and bring the Tsar's favor to those half-civilized barbarians."

Boyarkov shook his head. He spent a lot of money to hire the Cossacks, not to let them die. He needed to earn more gold and silver.

"The Solon people say that the Jianzhou Jurchens were defeated by a war god from the south. Now, that war god is coming. Sakhalin Island is a no-man's land, and we need to take it in. Also, I want to dedicate these works of art to the Ming emperor. I heard he's an artist (Zhu Youxiao) and loves his craft. God bless, he'll offer a good price for them."

"Respected Osip Stepanitch Dymov, now, please go and cut off a few heads and send them to the Solon tribe deep in the jungle. Let these barbarians who are stingy with gold, silver and jewelry understand the Tsar's determination to promote civilization."

When Dymov heard that someone was going to kill someone, a ferocious smile immediately appeared on his rugged face. He grabbed Vasily's fat hand and kissed it gently.

Then he pushed open the tent door and walked into the darkness.

Bonfires were lit around the camp. The Cossack warriors hugged the captured Sauron women, shook the rum bottles in their hands, and danced wildly around the bonfires like brown bears...
Dymov turned around, pulled out a bottle of wine from his bosom, gulped down two mouthfuls, and said to a Koren man who was following him:

"Aobai, prepare a woman for me tonight, no, three, and they must be Moscow-style."

"twitter!"

The wild Jurchen Aobai knelt on the ground and saluted his master.

Their village had just been massacred by the Cossacks, and only Aobai and five women were left out of dozens of people. Aobai knew a little about the Rakshasa language, so he was used as a translator and saved his life.

"Master, there seems to be a fire over there."

Dymov was getting drunk and his bear-like body was swaying.

"Are your people still resisting? If so, we will have no choice but to send the rest of them to see God..."

Before the Cossack leader could finish his words, something suddenly fell to the ground a few steps in front of him, followed by a hissing sound, like a hare chewing weeds.

"A rabbit? Rabbit meat is much tastier than human flesh. Quick, catch it!"

Aobai quickly extended the torch over, and the two Cossacks following behind him also stretched their necks to look around for traces of the hare.

Two ignition grenades rolled down the slope in front of the four people. The fuses had just burned out, and suffocating white smoke rose.

~~~~~
"Why is the valley ahead so quiet? There's not even a bird!"

"King Chuang, a bear just sent out a scout, and the scout hasn't come back yet. Maybe the dog soldiers heard we were coming and ran away." Shanxi, thirty miles west of Pianguan County, Liujia Village, Louzigou.

Surrounded by his generals and advisers including Luo Rucai, Liu Zongmin and Song Xiance, Li Xianzhong, who was a groom at the Yan'an post station two years ago, rode a tall horse to the entrance of the valley.

He looked back at the huge army of refugees behind him, then carefully examined the dangerous pass before him and asked Luo Rucai who was standing next to him:

"Where is the Kaiyuan Army sent from the capital now?"

In the original history, Luo Rucai was one of the leaders of the peasant uprising army in the late Ming Dynasty, serving in one of the Thirty-Six Battalions. He was cunning, treacherous, and capricious, earning him the nickname Cao Cao. Due to Liu Zhaosun's time travel, he joined Wang Er in the rebellion, but now has switched sides and joined Li Xianzhong, the King of Rebellion, becoming the second-in-command of the rebel army.

"I heard they just captured Hequ County and suffered heavy casualties. They are preparing to hold the city to the death."

Before Luo Rucai could finish his words, Song Xiance, who was standing next to him, stroked his beard and said with a smile:

"Haha, this is a fight between trapped beasts. Hequ County was just seized by the Eight Vajra Kings. They have no money or food. If they stay there, they are courting death."

Li Xianzhong was hesitant. Before entering Shanxi, he sent people to inquire about the Kaiyuan army. A veteran of the garrison, he had heard a great deal about the exploits of the Duke of Huguo and the Kaiyuan army over the past few years and knew they were a formidable foe. Ever since the Kaiyuan troops entered Shaanxi, Li Xianzhong had felt a sense of unease and confusion.

~~~~~~
Yucheng Posthouse, Gaoyou County, Yangzhou Prefecture.

This post station, which was first built in the eighth year of Hongwu, is a transportation hub on the North-South Grand Canal. Its scale and shape are naturally not comparable to ordinary post stations.

Mengcheng Posthouse is fully equipped with a main hall, back hall, gift room, storehouse, and kitchen. It also has the common horse temple, stables, and front drum tower.

To the north of the post station is the residence of the postmaster, next to the post station is the Qinyou Mansion, on the embankment is the Huanghua Hall, which serves as a reception room, and to the southeast is the horse drinking pond...

Former Jinzhou General Wu Xiang and his family have been living here for almost two years.

In the Ming Dynasty, post stations could provide lodging for passing envoys, which was equivalent to modern guesthouses or hotels.

Anyone holding an "Yi Guan" badge can enjoy free accommodation, meals, boats, carriages, and horses provided by the post station according to the level of official rank and the number of servants.

As a representative of the Liaoxi generals who fought against the "Liu thief" in the Jingnan Campaign, Wu Xiang was unfortunately defeated. Now that he has returned to his hometown of Gaoyou, he is treated favorably and respected by a group of Jiangnan officials.

Since arriving at Mengcheng Posthouse for a temporary stay, local gentry would come to visit every now and then, either to donate money or to talk about serving the king and eliminating bandits.

In just one year, this most famous long-legged general in western Liaoning had become the soul of the royal army's conquest of the north.

Mr. Wu had amassed a fortune while serving as an official in western Liaoning, so this wandering life of moving his family from one house to another had little impact on his family.

On several occasions, local gentry and wealthy families invited General Wu to live in the city. Wu Xiang said, "The traitors have not been eliminated yet, so we must be prepared for war at all times," and he and his personal soldiers and servants stayed at Mengcheng Post.

In fact, it means being prepared to run away at any time.

In the center of the main hall, the twelve-year-old Wu Sangui respectfully handed tea to his father. Wu Xiang took it and couldn't help but glance at the heroic Wu Sangui and nodded slightly.

He waved his hand for his son to sit down, took a sip of tea, and then impatiently asked the servant who looked like a legal advisor who was kneeling on the ground:
"What did Zhang Chun say? When will the Hejian Prefecture troops be dispatched? Who else will support us?"

"Master, Master..."

Xue Laosan had just rushed back to Mengcheng Posthouse on a fast horse for 800 miles. He had not yet adjusted to the time difference and his biological clock was a little disordered when he was called from the stable to the front hall by the master for questioning.

The Wu family servant was out of breath:

"That fellow Zhang Chun took three thousand taels of silver from the master and advised us not to act rashly and wait until the situation becomes clearer before taking any action!"

Wu Xiang suppressed his anger and continued to ask:
"You gave the silver away for nothing? And you're coming back like this? Didn't I ask you to stay in Beizhili first?"

Xue Lao San kowtowed quickly and said:
"Master, that bastard said he didn't want any staff now, and he was afraid that Liu Zhaosun would find out. He took the money and drove me away."

"Asshole! Trash!"

Wu Xiang cursed a few times, then suppressed his anger and said:
"Didn't you tell him about the King of Gui? Now even the merchants in Fujian support the King of Gui."

Upon learning that the Kaiyuan army had entered Shaanxi to suppress bandits, Wu Xiang knew that the opportunity for revenge had finally come.

"Master, I am a businessman. This time, we will take the lead and let the officials and gentry in Jiangnan nominate the King of Gui to become emperor. It will be a great achievement in the future. This is a profitable business. Can't Zhang Chun see it?"

Xue Laosan looked at the master's excited expression, hesitated for a moment, and stammered:
"Master, Zhang Chun said that the King of Gui would have a miserable end. That bastard also said that if we insisted on rebelling, he would report us to Liu Zhaosun..."

Wu Xiang swung the teacup and smashed it hard on the ground, and the colorful celadon glaze teacup immediately broke into pieces.

"What a jerk! He's taken so much advantage from the Wu family over the years! I even spent three thousand taels of silver to buy him that Juren title! Now that Liaoxi has been defeated and the Wu family has lost power, he's turned his back on us! What an ungrateful bastard!"

Wu Sangui winked at Xue Laosan and asked him to leave.

Only the father and son were left in the main hall.

Just as Wu Sangui was about to persuade his father, Wu Xiang suddenly stepped forward, patted his son on the shoulder, and said loudly to Wu Sangui:

"Sangui, don't forget your father's will. You must kill Liu Zhaosun! Kill him!"

Note:
1. Baroque: An artistic style that flourished in Europe between 1600 and 1750. Its fundamental characteristics were a break from the solemnity, reserve, and balance of the Renaissance, a preference for luxury and grandeur, and a focus on the expression of strong emotions. The atmosphere was intense and heated, resulting in a striking and captivating artistic effect.

2. Petrin's Mission: In 1618 (the th year of the Wanli reign), Tsarist Russia sent an informal delegation to the Ming Dynasty, led by Ivan Petrin, a Cossack from Siberia. The mission's primary purpose was to establish friendly neighborly relations with the Ming and initiate trade negotiations. However, due to the Ming Dynasty's preoccupation with the upcoming Battle of Sarhu and the Cossacks' lack of sufficient gifts, the trade negotiations made no substantial progress.

(End of this chapter)