My father is Chongzhen? Then I have no choice but to rebel.

Beside him, a scout was quickly jotting something down.

"Note: On the third day of the twelfth lunar month, at 3:45 AM, the main force of the Jurchens broke through the Korean defense line at the Yalu River. The Korean defenders collapsed and offered almost no resistance. Our army harassed them, killing and wounding about 300 enemy soldiers and delaying them for half an hour. After crossing the river, the Jurchens immediately divided their forces to plunder, with the main force heading south, their target likely being Seoul. Northern Korea was already ravaged."

After writing, the scout stuffed the note into a thin bamboo tube and tied it to the leg of a falcon.

The falcon flapped its wings, soared into the sky, and flew swiftly towards Shenyang.

Li Dingguo didn't look away until the eagle was out of sight. He patted the shoulder of a young scout beside him, whose eyes were bloodshot and fixed on the south.

"Stop looking."

Li Dingguo's voice was calm.

"We've done our best. The rest is beyond our control. Let's go back and report. The real battle hasn't even begun yet."

As flames of war raged along the Yalu River, the routed North Korean soldiers fled like ants whose nest had been destroyed, scattering across the mountains and fields. Fear and despair were their only baggage.

But among these routed soldiers, one small group stood out from the rest.

There were about a hundred of them. Although they were also disheveled and covered in soot, their eyes, besides still being shaken, still held a sliver of indomitable spirit.

Leading the group was a middle-aged general with a dark complexion, a stubble beard, and armor stained with marks from swords and arrows and blackened bloodstains. He was none other than Li Shibai, the Chief Inspector.

He led the hundred or so remaining soldiers who were unwilling to surrender or flee for their lives and hid in a remote valley on the south bank of the Yalu River.

There are a few abandoned wooden huts belonging to hunters in the valley, which can barely provide shelter from the wind and snow.

Gathered around the fire that had been painstakingly lit and dared not produce too much smoke, the surviving soldiers silently ate the hard, stolen or brought rations. The atmosphere was as somber as the weather outside.

"Sir, what...what should we do?"

A young officer couldn't help but ask, his voice trembling with tears.

"The river defenses are finished, the army has dispersed, and the Jurchens have already invaded... What about the capital..."

"Wang Jing?"

Li Shibai gave a cold laugh, his voice hoarse.

"If Lord Linping is reliable, pigs can fly! Relying on him? You might as well hope the tigers in the mountains will have a change of heart!"

He stood up, walked to the door of the wooden house, and looked at the swirling snow outside and the faint firelight on the horizon in the distance—the village burned down by the Jurchens.

"But we can't just let it go like this."

He turned around, his gaze sweeping over the faces that were either numb, fearful, or bewildered.

"We are soldiers of North Korea! Our parents, wives, and children are still behind us! The Jurchens are tigers and wolves, they will not have the slightest mercy on us civilians! Surrender means death, and running away also leads to certain death!"

He grabbed a handful of snow from the ground, squeezed it tightly, and snow water seeped through his fingers:
"In a direct confrontation, our numbers are no match for the Jurchens. But Korea is so vast, with so many mountains and dense forests! We know every blade of grass and every tree here, while the Jurchens are blind, like wild buffaloes stumbling into a porcelain shop!"

He walked back to the fire, lowered his voice, but his tone was resolute:
"Break down! Ten men in a team, five men in a group, and disperse into the mountains and forests of the north! Our targets are not the Jurchen army, but their supply convoys, their isolated small groups, and their poorly guarded camps!"

"When the enemy advances, we retreat; when the enemy camps, we harass; when the enemy tires, we attack; when the enemy retreats, we pursue!"

He spoke those sixteen words slowly and deliberately, as if they possessed some kind of magic.

"Rob their grain, seize their weapons, and kill their people! Let the Jurchens be unable to sleep or eat, and live in constant fear! We will become leeches clinging to them, nails burrowing into their flesh!"

The soldiers' eyes gradually brightened. In their desperate situation, this seemingly feasible tactic, which also allowed them to vent their hatred, became their only hope.

"But sir, we are outnumbered and lack weapons..."

Some people are worried.

"lack?"

A fierce glint flashed in Li Shibai's eyes.

"The Jurchens have them! Kill them and take them! The people's homes may still have hunting bows and machetes hidden there! In the mountains and forests, stones, wood, and traps are all weapons! We are not fighting a war, we are hunting! Hunting down those beasts that have invaded our homes!"

He paused, his voice softening, yet carrying a deeper anticipation:
"Moreover, we are not fighting alone. The Ming Dynasty... the Crown Prince of the Ming Dynasty promised to send troops! As long as we hold on and delay the Jurchens, when the Ming army crosses the river, it will be the death of these beasts! We are fighting for Korea, and we are also clearing the way for the coming royal army, preparing a... pledge of allegiance!"

He spoke the last three words very softly, but everyone present understood them.

The reason for persisting in resistance is not only for survival and revenge, but also for the future, to prove to the "Celestial Empire" that Koreans are not all cowards and that they have value.

Hope, even the faintest hope, is the only force that allows people to keep going in desperate situations.

"Let's do it!"

"Listen to the adults!"

"Let's fight the Jurchens!"

A low, yet fierce, response rang out.

Li Shibai felt somewhat relieved. He selected several of his most alert and reliable soldiers and gave them orders:
"You few, change into civilian clothes and find a way to slip out. Head north to Liaodong, to Shenyang! Find someone from the Ming Crown Prince's faction and tell him that there are still people in Korea who refuse to submit and are still resisting! Tell him that we will harass them behind enemy lines and await the royal army! Request that he... send troops as soon as possible!"

"Yes!"

The men accepted the order and began removing their armor without hesitation.

Li Shibai looked at them, then at the soldiers whose fighting spirit had been rekindled by the fire, and silently prayed in his heart.

Persevere, we must persevere until... the ice and snow melt, and the royal army returns from the east.

Seoul, Gyeongbokgung Palace.

News of the disastrous defeat at the Yalu River reached Seoul even before the routed soldiers.

It wasn't through official reports, but through rampant rumors and the scattered accounts of distraught, defeated soldiers who managed to escape.

"It's over...it's all over...the Jurchens aren't human, they're devils! The moment their firearms fire, the heavens and earth will collapse..."

"The defending troops collapsed in half an hour... The corpses piled up like mountains, and the river turned red..."

"The Jurchens have already crossed the river, killing people indiscriminately and burning villages indiscriminately, and they are heading towards the capital!"

Every word was like a heavy hammer blow, striking the already fragile North Korean court and people.

Prince Li of Linping locked himself in his bedchamber and did not eat or drink for a day and a night.

His face was ashen, his eyes unfocused, his body trembled uncontrollably, and he kept muttering:

"We've crossed the river...we're coming...it's coming...I'm going to die..."

Outside the palace, the ministers had abandoned all decorum, arguing, crying, and even shoving each other.

Some advocated immediately sending envoys to beg for peace with the Jurchens, even if it meant becoming a vassal state, paying tribute, ceding territory, and paying reparations, just to save Han City and their lives. Others, in despair, advocated burning down the palace and leading the remaining troops south to rely on the mountains and rivers for resistance.

But regardless of which stance is taken, a person capable of making the decision is needed. And that person is currently cowering deep within the palace, like a lump of mud.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty! We can't hesitate any longer!"

The chief councilor, Kim Ryu, along with several high-ranking officials, disregarded the eunuchs' attempts to stop them and forced their way into the bedchamber. Upon seeing Lee's appearance, their last shred of hope vanished.

He rushed to the bedside, his voice shrill and desperate:

"The Jurchens could arrive any day now! Whether to fight or make peace, to defend or to retreat, you must make a decision! The entire city's inhabitants, civil and military officials, are all watching you!"

Li was startled by his voice, and looked up blankly at Jin Liu, then at the anxious, desperate, or resentful faces behind him. His lips trembled for a long time before he finally managed to squeeze out a tearful sentence:

"I... what ideas could I possibly have... Father is not here... the Crown Prince has been captured... I... I..."

Suddenly, as if he had grasped something, he grabbed Jin Liu's sleeve tightly:
"The Great Ming! Didn't the Crown Prince of the Great Ming say he would send troops? Where are his troops? When will they arrive?!"

Jin Liu felt a chill in her heart.

Even at this point, the king was still hoping for a promise that would never be fulfilled.

"My lord! A distant solution can't quench a nearby fire!"

One of the military officers couldn't help but roar.

"By the time the Ming army arrives, Seoul will be a wasteland! We must make a decision immediately! This humble general is willing to lead the remaining troops to protect His Majesty and the families of the officials and their families, and leave the city immediately to head north to Liaodong! Firstly, we can temporarily avoid the Ming army's advance, and secondly, we can urge the Crown Prince of Ming to send troops! This is the only way out right now!"

"Heading north? To Liaodong?"

A glimmer of light flashed in Li's eyes, like a drowning person seeing driftwood, but it was immediately overwhelmed by immense fear.

"On the road... what if we encounter the Jurchens on the road..."

"Take the back roads, put on makeup in batches, there's always a way!"

The military officer said urgently.

"Staying here means certain death!"

Looking at Li's state, Jin Liu knew that relying on him was futile. He exchanged glances with several other important officials, all seeing the same resolute determination in each other's eyes—to give up.

"Your Majesty."

Jin Liu took a deep breath, her tone returning to calm, even carrying a hint of barely perceptible indifference.

"For the sake of the nation and the ancestral temple, we urge you to move your carriage immediately. We will make proper arrangements to escort you, your family, and some ministers in a light entourage north to Yizhou, then via Liaodong, to temporarily take refuge under the wing of the Ming Dynasty, and gradually plan to restore the country."

This is not a discussion, it is a notification.

Li stared blankly at him, seemingly not understanding, yet also seemingly understanding, but powerless to object.

He slumped down, releasing his grip on the gold-embroidered sleeve, his body feeling as if his bones had been removed, and muttered:
"Okay...okay...you can arrange it...I'll do whatever you say..."

The order was issued secretly and at top speed. It wasn't a personal military campaign, nor a border patrol; it was an escape.

Only the most senior officials, a portion of the palace women, and their personal belongings were allowed to accompany them. As for the other lower-ranking officials, ordinary palace servants, and even the common people of the city? They were on their own.

That night, a group consisting of dozens of carriages and hundreds of guards quietly opened the north gate of Hanseong and hurriedly drove out in the cold night and light snow, quickly disappearing into the darkness of the northern official road.

They left in such a hurry that they didn't even have time to completely cover their tracks.

As dawn broke, the news spread like wildfire throughout Seoul.

"They've escaped! Prince Linping has run away with those yaban lords!"

"They abandoned us and ran off to enjoy a life of luxury in the Ming Dynasty!"

"Damn it! These parasites! Vampires! When the country is in peril, they're the first to run away!"

"We've been abandoned! Utterly abandoned by the Li Dynasty!"

Anger erupted like a volcano, fueled by long-suppressed despair. People flooded the streets, surrounding the closed palace gates, crying, cursing, and throwing stones. Gyeongbokgung Palace, once a symbol of royal power, became the target of everyone's hatred.

Soon, some daring rioters began to storm the palace gates, and more people joined in. The gates were smashed open, and the crowd surged in like a tidal wave, looting everything of value left in the palace and setting fires everywhere.

Black smoke rose from Seoul again, this time from their own royal palace.

Amidst this city-wide uproar and outrage, some seemingly ordinary figures moved through the crowd, spreading even more deadly words in various dialects to every corner:
"Did you know? Not only Grand Prince Linping, but Grand Prince Fenglin has also been enjoying a life of luxury in the Ming Dynasty for some time now!"

"His Majesty is in Shenyang, and I hear he's living a very comfortable life there, having long forgotten about us!"

"Anyone in the Li family with any status has already found a way out! It's just us ordinary folks who are left to die!"

"They traded the land of Korea for their own wealth and glory in the Ming Dynasty! We are just livestock that have been sold off!"

Every word was like a poisonous thorn, piercing deep into the listener's heart, echoing the reality of their escape and the burning palace. The last vestiges of loyalty to the Joseon Dynasty, perhaps already thin, vanished completely on this day, along with the smoke rising from Gyeongbokgung Palace.

Hatred. Deep-seated hatred.

They hated not only the invading Jurchens, but also the Li royal family who abandoned and betrayed them.

Zhu Cilang's initial plan quietly achieved its most crucial step amidst this scene of chaos and betrayal.

The people's hearts have been swept away like water spilled on the ground; it is impossible to win them back.

A royal family that has lost the hearts of the people is like a rootless duckweed; its fate was already sealed.

However, Zhu's claims were not purely a scheme, because Yi Jong did indeed voluntarily remain in the Ming Dynasty, Yi Ho was far away in the Ming Dynasty and had not returned, and Yi himself had truly fled to the Ming Dynasty. Everything he said was true.

Zhu Cilang's initial plan was achieved naturally amidst this real and ugly scene of betrayal.

He successfully equated the Joseon royal family with "betrayal," "cowardice," and "sellout." The will of the people is like water; it can carry a boat, but it can also capsize it. Now, the small boat carrying the Joseon dynasty has completely capsized and sunk into the abyss amidst overwhelming public resentment.

And the Ming Dynasty will become the new and only ferryman for this waterway.

On the official road heading north, a snowy night.

Grand Prince Li of Linping huddled in the bumpy carriage, wrapped in a thick brocade quilt and clutching a hand warmer, yet still felt a bone-chilling cold. The cold did not come from the howling wind and snow outside, but from behind—from the direction of Seoul, where the distant yet increasingly clear sounds of cursing and wailing grew fainter.

"Faster! Faster!"

He abruptly yanked open the carriage curtain and shouted at the guards driving the carriage, his voice distorted with fear.

The guard lashed the horse's rump with his whip, causing the carriage to accelerate violently and lurch even more violently on the snow-covered road. Li was thrown about, but clung tightly to the window frame, refusing to let go. (End of Chapter)