The Han culture is spreading strongly in Southeast Asia

Chapter 459 Who Wants to Be a Tenant for Life?
"Kill them all, one head for one acre of land. If you want to be the master, you'll have to risk your life!"

In front of the intersection, officers of all ranks beat drums and gongs and shouted loudly, encouraging the regiments below to charge forward.

"These Cantonese are here to steal our land. If they enter Changsha Prefecture, all the good fields and soil will be given to the Cantonese to cultivate, and we Hunanese will starve to death!"

This is a classic rumor about the emperor using a golden hoe to plow the ground, but it is particularly useful.

Because it was already the late Qianlong period, the rapid population growth brought about fierce conflicts between people and land.

It was already very difficult to collect rents in the area around Dongting Lake, and Mao Xiangsheng was driven away by his brother for this reason.

So, although this rumor was extremely absurd, it immediately aroused widespread resonance and tension.

Because the most important thing for these young men is the land on which they depend for their survival, even if it is just rented land.

At the same time, the tenant rents generated by the terrifying internal circulation were also extremely high, almost to the point where farmers who worked all year round could only barely make a living.

Therefore, they had no extra food at home and could not withstand even the slightest storm. A slight change could cause their entire family to fall into the abyss.

This type of people hate change the most, and there is no room for error in life.

"Ten of us are fighting against one of them. How can we not win? Let's rush up and kill all those Cantonese people. Each of us will be rewarded and become a master!"

Seeing that the anger of the regiment soldiers was aroused, the officers immediately began to emphasize their own advantages.

This was very useful. After walking just a few dozen steps forward, morale was boosted. People were having heated discussions everywhere, and some even began to imagine their future lives as masters.

Only Wang Si'erzi and others who were mixed in the crowd knew how powerful it was. The scene of crushing the enemy with such force that they suffered heavy casualties without even being able to see the other party's faces clearly was like a movie, constantly rolling back and forth in his mind.

As they got closer, Wang Si'er felt his calves starting to cramp, but he was squeezed in the crowd, surrounded by villagers shouting loudly, so he could only be carried forward.

Fortunately, these militiamen who only have one spear do not need to be sent to the front row for the time being. The first batch will be the elite musketeers among the militia.

Unfortunately, Wang Si'er's relief only lasted for a few breaths before it was interrupted by a cannon.

A loud roar was heard, and before most people could understand what was happening, whistling shells fell on their heads.

Looking down from the Xing Tang Army's position, this is a slope, which is extremely suitable for cannon bombardment. As long as the general direction is correct, every shot will be accurate.

With a bang, the huge bullet hit the front musketeer formation of the militia, and mud mixed with broken human bodies flew straight into the air.

The shells, still with undiminished momentum, bounced up from the ground again and then swept across the crowd behind them, breaking bones and tendons in anyone who was touched.

Wang Si'er was lucky. A shell hit the ground right in front of him. While others were still staring at this shocking scene with their mouths open, he suddenly had an idea and quickly squatted down.

Then, the whistling shells flew right over his head, cutting several people around him into pieces. Blood and broken flesh sprayed all over his face, but he was fine.

Wails of pain were heard one after another. Three or four soldiers whose legs were hit were crying in pain on the ground where the shells had just hit them.

Wang Si'er's fear had almost reached the critical point, and the fellow villagers around him were in the same situation. No one shouted to kill the Cantonese master anymore. They all looked at each other in panic with their big eyes, their faces covered with blood.

But the team was still moving forward. They had 2,000 people dispatched this time. If one artillery shell was fired, only 20 to 30 people would be harmed at most. It was impossible for one volley to cause the collapse of all members.

Then, the big one came, a thirty-six-pound mortar was pushed to the front line, and with a bang, it launched a huge explosive shell into the air.

Several Hunan militiamen armed with bird guns heard the sound of the shell breaking through the air, but they felt relieved at the same time because the shell seemed to be going backwards.

But they didn't know that the most standard way for explosive bombs at this time to kill people was to explode not far above their heads.

"Boom!" A violent explosion sounded, and the shock wave pushed the surrounding Xiangyong warriors to and fro. The man in the core area of the explosion didn't even make a sound, as half of his head was blown off.

Then, the combustible material added to the explosive bomb scattered the flames everywhere.

This might be just a scare for the soldiers holding swords and spears, but for the musketeers who were wrapped in a lot of fuse and loaded with gunpowder bags, it was simply a nightmare.

The flames quickly ignited the fuse on a musketeer's body. Almost in an instant, flames began to spread all over his body. Then, with a bang, a cloud of hot green smoke rose up, and the gunpowder in the ammunition bag was ignited.

The musketeer screamed miserably. A big hole was burned in his clothes on his abdomen, exposing his charred skin. His face and hands were covered with terrible blisters. He looked like a demon from hell.

Under the severe pain, the musketeers didn't care about anything else. The only thing they thought about was to save their lives. They screamed and knocked the supervising officer to the ground, and ran back howling like ghosts.

The flight of these musketeers triggered a chain reaction, and the second round of artillery fire came. The militia, which had already been frightened, no one could hold on any longer and retreated collectively. They did not even get within the range of the flintlock rifles.

After a while, the retreating militia was replaced and the second militia was pulled up.

This time they learned their lesson and no longer moved slowly, but instead rushed forward with all their might.

"Charge, charge, charge!" A lieutenant general yelled, asking everyone to speed up.

Behind the militia, dozens of supervisors carrying large swords with red cloth and ghost heads were holding the line. Anyone who retreated first would definitely be beheaded by them.

After being prepared, this group of people will be able to withstand more pressure, and after running quickly, they can indeed reduce the power of artillery to a great extent.

Wu Wenhui blew the copper whistle loudly, and the soldiers of their company, holding rifles, followed him around the breastwork, advanced to a distance of two or three hundred meters, and half-crouched in a skirmish formation.

The militia on the opposite side was too dense, so even though it was two or three hundred meters away, there was no need to aim, just fire directly at the crowd.

Wu Wenhui pulled the trigger, and the hot lead bullet flew out at a high speed. More than 200 meters in front of him, a soldier from the regiment yelled, as if he had hit a wall of air. His whole body trembled and he fell straight down.

"Second brother!" A soldier from the regiment next to him cried out. He wanted to lower his head to check on his brother, but the second lead bullet flew over.

The small thing pierced his neck accurately, and Tuan Yong's head tilted suddenly. He covered his neck with both hands, and blood gushed out like a waterfall.

The dense flintlock rifles greatly restricted the progress of the regiment soldiers, and many people began to hesitate. They were not professional soldiers, but just farmers.

As soon as they slowed down, the power of the artillery was maximized, and the soldiers were only more than 100 meters away from the Xingtang Army's position, so the kinetic energy of the projectiles was greater.

Seeing that the team was about to collapse, the commanding lieutenant general became anxious. He rode a yellow horse and brought the supervision team to the front to reorganize the team.

However, this so-called lieutenant general was actually just a rich kid who had practiced martial arts since childhood. He could not imagine the current fighting methods, which were no longer what was recorded in the tattered military books in his home.

The warhorse was still galloping, and such a conspicuous target quickly attracted a lot of attention. At least five hunters took aim at the lieutenant general. Three lead bullets hit the target one after another, and blood spurted from the warhorse's neck. Blood also spurted from the lieutenant general's neck. Man and horse fell to the ground with a thud.

The huge noise woke up the soldiers who were being slaughtered. When they saw the lieutenant general fall to the ground, they all ran away at the same time.

In the distance, Chen Huizu had a gloomy face. For the first time, he felt that having more people was not necessarily helpful in a war. He looked at his second brother Chen Shengzu beside him.

"Second Brother, this time you take our fellow villagers from Yongzhou and attack first. I'll have the others follow. Five battalions and 15,000 men will attack together!"

Although Yongzhou had already been occupied by Dayu, after hearing that their fellow villager Chen Huizu was appointed by the imperial envoy of Changsha Prefecture to establish a militia, a large number of Yongzhou gentry still ran to Changsha Prefecture to seek refuge. They also formed a militia of almost the size of a battalion.

"Sir, the morale is too low right now. Give them rewards and food to boost their morale."

Chen Shengzu still knew a little about military affairs. He realized that with more than a thousand casualties and without even touching the enemy's hair, the morale of the enemy was very low and he could not continue to force it.

"Sir Governor, the various camps are of varying quality, and the brave are often held back by the cowardly. It would be better to select 3,000 elite soldiers as the vanguard, with the rest following behind. Once the vanguard breaks through the enemy's formation, we can charge in and slaughter them all."

Someone else suggested that it seemed that he had read military books, but he only started to think about selecting elite soldiers at this time. Isn’t it a bit too late?

"Okay, pass the word down. Plenty of white rice, stir-fried pork with dog peppers, and stewed fish with dog peppers as side dishes." Chen Huizu said loudly, "Each battalion will select elite soldiers and give each one a five-cent reward!"

The so-called dog pepper is actually chili pepper. The reason why it has such an ugly name is that even now, even though it has been introduced to China for more than a hundred years, chili pepper is still a condiment that is not worthy of being eaten.

Among the menus of the rich at that time, the most popular was the light diet represented by Huaiyang cuisine. Even Sichuan cuisine was mainly sweet, sour and light.

But at the bottom of society, chili peppers have become popular in cooking and are generally used as a substitute for salt in terms of taste.

"Looks like we need to select our vanguard. Let each company take turns going to the front line. Use the artillery sparingly. As long as the enemy doesn't fight hard, we can also hold back."

Wang Wubing was extremely experienced. When he saw that the third wave of attacking soldiers were slow and weak and were not moving forward, he felt something was wrong.

Then he picked up the telescope and saw people crowding everywhere in the opposite military camp, and messengers running back and forth. He immediately guessed what the other side would do next.

. . . .

While the fighting was raging at Lukoupu, the battle had already come to an end at Xuantian Temple, which was more than 20 miles away from Lukoupu.

Since the battle here started earlier than that at Lukoupu, the more than 20,000 Xiangyin militia members had suffered more than 2,000 casualties.

Mao Xiangsheng, with a haggard face, looked anxiously at his fellow villagers who were arguing in the barracks.

Recently, they have been constantly attacked at night by the Xing Tang army in the mountains, and have hardly had a good rest. Coupled with the 10% casualties, this has exceeded the limit they can bear.

"Let the Cantonese come and seize our land. We're tenants anyway. What's the difference between being a tenant for Mr. Mao and being a tenant for the Cantonese?"

"I won't fight anymore. My brother is already dead. If I die, there will be no one to take care of my parents until they die. I want to go home. If the road is blocked, I'll go south and cross Dayun Mountain."

Mao Xiangsheng took a few deep breaths. He actually had some ability. Although he had not been educated and was a little young, he had a clear mind, agile skills, and a heart that liked to stand up for the weak.

This was evident in the fact that he was always the first to grab food, and the fact that he was kicked out of his family to do odd jobs at the age of fifteen but did not starve to death.

Especially after eating well for the past six months, his body has become stronger.

After taking two deep breaths to calm his heart that was about to jump out of his chest, Mao Xiangsheng suddenly jumped onto a broken table.

"Uncles and brothers, we can't go to Lukoupu, and crossing Dayun Mountain is even more difficult. Besides, we have officials watching us from above, so we can't leave the barracks. Even if we leave, our land will be confiscated when we return home. How can we survive?"

As he spoke, seeing that dozens of people in the barracks were attracted by his attention, Mao Xiangsheng pulled Mao Xiangxin over.

"Xin'er's brother-in-law Zhou Sange is a farmhand in the household of Mr. Zhou, a Jinshi. Mr. Zhou has gone to live with our Han Emperor Guangzhong.

Since attacking Xuantian Temple means death, and returning home means starvation, why not cut off your queues and surrender to our own Han emperor?

Everyone in the room was from Xiangyin County, or even Gutang Village. Everyone knew each other well, and when they heard what Mao Xiangsheng said, their eyes widened.

Mao Xiangsheng knew this was a critical moment. He drew his dagger and pretended to be vicious. "Master Mao San is only a Juren, and Master Zhou is a Jinshi, which is much higher than a Juren.

The ten acres of land near the big willow tree owned by Master Mao San has been cultivated by our family for a hundred years from generation to generation. It was not a paddy field originally, but a dry field. It was our family that turned it into a paddy field. One acre of land can produce more than 100 kilograms of grain.

The rent paid by four generations of our family is enough to buy these ten acres of land a hundred times!"

Mao Xiangsheng was so excited that his words were a little incoherent, but the people in the room were deeply attracted because they all understood what Mao Xiangsheng wanted to say and they had the same experience.

Just at this moment, the captain who was in charge of these dozens of people, Mao Xiangsheng's uncle, and the third steward of Master Mao San, walked in.

When he saw Mao Xiangsheng, he started cursing, "Shengzi, you idiot, what are you yelling about?"

Mao Xiang turned around abruptly, and the dagger in his hand reflected a cold light. The clan uncle was stunned for a moment and unconsciously took two steps back.

"You son of a bitch are the one who's telling off the girl!"

Mao Xiangsheng yelled loudly. The pain of being kicked out of the house by his parents and his brother made him feel so painful that blood filled his pupils.

He pounced from the table and stabbed his uncle's chest with a dagger.

"Let's go! Kill General Zuo and go home to divide the land!"

After killing someone, Mao Xiangsheng pulled Mao Xiangxin and rushed out of the barracks howling. Several people behind him got excited and rushed out with spears in hand.

They haven't been home for almost half a year. They are in desperate situation and penniless. Under tremendous pressure, they always need an outlet.

Many people rushed out, not actually wanting any results, but just wanting to vent, feeling that there was no way out in life and unwilling to die in this wilderness with no one to collect their bodies.

But who could have known that their action of rushing towards General Zuo's tent with swords and spears in hand would be like drilling a hole in a reservoir dam filled with water.

The voices of killing General Zuo and returning home to divide the land rose one after another. Countless people shouted in response, as if everyone had gone crazy. They had no organization, but they ran towards General Zuo's barracks in unison.

At this moment, Zhou Xipu, accompanied by two hundred soldiers of the Yangwu Army of the Beijing Camp and several Jinyiwei, arrived not far from the military camp.

(End of this chapter)