Huangming

Chapter 307 Eliminate the Weeds at the Root, Encircle and Attack Reinforcements

However, Dodo's poisonous thoughts were crushed into nothingness in the blink of an eye.

Huang Degong walked in carrying a long, blood-dripping knife and immediately saw the boy pinned to the ground.

Hearing from the guards that he was Nurhaci's son, and looking at his face filled with resentment and malice.

The burning hatred in those eyes was just like that of a wounded lone wolf on the grassland, who, despite being a prisoner, still longed to retaliate.

"Pooh!"

A hint of disgust flashed across Huang Degong's face. Too lazy to listen to this brat's threats, he flicked his wrist, and a cold light flashed.

With a "splat," blood splattered on the ground, and Dodo's head rolled onto the bluestone slab, his eyes still wide open, as if he couldn't believe he was dead.

"You Jurchen traitors, are you even thinking about the future?"

Huang Degong wiped the blood off the knife with the sole of his boot, his tone full of disdain.

"Today I'll show you what it means to nip it in the bud!"

After killing Dodo, he turned to look at Tong Guoyao beside him, his narrowed eyes revealing a chilling murderous intent.

The sycophant's treacherous face just now was truly disgusting.

Tong Guoyao felt a chill run down her spine when she was met with that gaze, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

He knew that if he didn't do anything useful at this moment, he would be the next one to be beheaded.

He hurriedly knelt down and kowtowed repeatedly, pleading, "General, spare me! General, spare me! This servant is still useful! There are still many nobles from Jianzhou in the city! Dodo is just one of them! Huang Taiji's son Hauge, Daishan's son Mazhan... they are all hiding there! This servant knows the way, I will take the heavenly soldiers to find them!"

He bowed and scraped, his voice trembling like a leaf, his obsequious manner more servile than any real slave.

Although Huang Degong looked down on this kind of person from the bottom of his heart, he did need him for the time being.

He snorted coldly and kicked Tong Guoyao's butt: "Lead the way. If you want to live, point out all the hiding places of your former masters. Trading their lives for yours would be a worthwhile deal."

"Yes, yes, yes! It's a great deal! It's such a great deal!"

Tong Guoyao quickly got up, a fawning smile plastered on her face, and eagerly extended her hand to lead the way.

"General, this way please. That brat Hauge is the most afraid of death; he's probably hiding in his mother's dowry house..."

Over the next two hours, under the "guidance" of servants like Tong Guoyao, the Jianzhou nobles in Hetu Ala City were dragged out one by one.

These royal family members, who usually acted arrogantly, were now either cowering in the dark compartments trembling, or being dragged out by their servants like pigs; their former arrogance had vanished.

Huang Degong almost always dealt with the male members who were arrested with a single stroke.

The long sword fell, and the head rolled to the ground.

The rules he believed in were simple and brutal:
The people of the grasslands have a saying that "the tallest man will be killed if he is killed by the wheel of a cartwheel," and today he will return this custom to its original owner.

The only difference is that other people's wheels are held upright to measure their height, while his wheels are laid flat on the ground.

Any male who could breathe, regardless of height, was to be eliminated.

Tong Guoyao followed behind, watching her former masters fall one by one into pools of blood. Though she wore a smile, a chill ran through her heart.

He knew that his hands were now completely stained with the blood of the Great Jin, and there was no turning back.

But he dared not stop, and could only grit his teeth and point forward, afraid that if he slowed down even a step, Huang Degong's knife would cut his neck.

It was almost noon, and the streets of Hetu Ala were already piled with corpses, the stench of blood thick and unbearable.

Most of the once prominent Aisin Gioro clan members have now become victims of the sword. Only a few women with special status were spared and are waiting to be taken back to the interior of China.

Huang Degong stood on the city wall, looking at the city ablaze with fire, and wiped the bloodstains from his long sword onto the city bricks.

He felt no emotion whatsoever after killing so many people.

Today's massacre, though brutal, will cause the Jurchens pain for years to come.

Without these members of the imperial family, the foundation of the Jurchens was effectively halved.

Meanwhile, the fighting deep within the palace gradually subsided. Zu Dashou was standing on the steps of the Khan's Grand Office, watching his personal guards bring over a string of women.

Leading the group were Abahai and Zhe Zhe, who were tightly bound with thick hemp ropes. Behind them were a dozen or so women, either Nurhaci's concubines or the female relatives of Beile such as Huang Taiji, Daishan, and Mangultai. Their hair was disheveled, and their once elegant robes were covered with dust and bloodstains, a far cry from their former dignity.

"It's all taken care of."

Zu Dashou instructed his guards, "These women are of noble status. Don't let them commit suicide. We still need to present them to the capital to await His Majesty's judgment."

He knew in his heart that the fate of these women was already sealed.

The best outcome would be for her to be given as a concubine to a border general by His Majesty, enduring humiliation day and night.

If one angered the emperor, or was found to have the blood of Han Chinese on their hands, it was common for them to be executed by slow slicing or sent to the laundry department to do hard labor for life.

As for the female members of the royal family who participated in the massacre, they probably won't even be able to leave behind a complete corpse.

Lingchi (death by a thousand cuts), skinning alive and stuffing with straw...

There is always a criminal law that suits them.

After dealing with the women, Zu Dashou turned to look at the palace's treasury.

The guards were carrying out boxes of gold and silver jewelry.

The saddle was inlaid with gold, the belt was studded with gemstones, the jade tablet that Nurhaci used for sacrifices, and there were even several boxes of porcelain looted from Kaiyuan and Tieling, which filled five large carts.

"These stolen goods were all robbed by the Jurchens from our Han people. Today they should be returned to their rightful owners."

Zu Dashou watched the convoy drive away, without a trace of greed in his eyes.

What he cared more about was completely destroying the foundation of the city.

"Go, tear down the ancestral temple and the shrine where the shaman performs his rituals!" Zu Dashou ordered.

The Ming soldiers immediately set to work, smashing the ancestral temple where the ancestral tablets of the Aisin Gioro clan were enshrined to pieces, and chopping the bronze drums and staffs used by the shamans into firewood.

Those sacrificial sites that symbolized the fortunes of the Later Jin dynasty were quickly reduced to a mess.

Finally, Zu Dashou walked to the foot of the palace wall and watched his guards pour kerosene between the beams and pillars.

The strong smell of oil made his throat tight, but he felt refreshed.

This palace, which bears the glory of the Jurchen people, should also taste the bitterness of being burned down.

"ignition!"

At a command, torches were thrown at the oil-soaked wooden beams.

With a loud "boom," flames shot into the sky and quickly spread to every corner of the palace.

The carved beams and painted rafters crackled in the raging fire, the glazed tiles shattered, and thick smoke billowed, obscuring the sky and even staining the clouds on the horizon with an eerie blood color.

Zu Dashou stood outside the palace gate, gazing at the burning palace and listening to the loud crashes of collapsing timber, a surge of indescribable pleasure welling up within him.

Back then, when Fushun fell, the cries of the Han people echoed throughout the heavens and the earth.

Today, let this old lair of the Jurchens pay its blood debt in flames!
Abahai, Zhe Zhe, and the others, who were being held captive to the side, watched as the palace, a symbol of the Jin imperial power, turned into a sea of ​​fire. Their faces drained of color, and only despair remained in their eyes.

Abahai collapsed to the ground, tears mingling with dust streaming down her face, muttering "wise Khan" under her breath, but unable to utter a complete sentence.

Zhe Zhe bit her lip hard until it bled, and her almond-shaped eyes, which had once been full of fierce determination, were now empty.

……

now.

In the dense forest southeast of Hetu Ala, the sun is gradually rising.

Mao Wenlong had already led three thousand men, along with several cannons, and had been waiting here for several hours.

The soldiers huddled in the damp grass, raindrops clinging to their armor, deliberately holding their breath, their vigilant eyes fixed on the official road leading to Gule Village.

"General, look!"

The guard beside him suddenly whispered.

Mao Wenlong looked in the direction he pointed and saw that the sky above Hetu Ala City, ten miles away, was already half red with fire, and thick smoke shot straight into the sky like a black dragon.

A sneer appeared on the corner of his mouth.

Zu Dashou has succeeded; now it's his turn to close the net.

According to the intelligence provided by Li Yangeng, the Gule Village, located forty miles to the southeast, was garrisoned by three Niru (units) of the Bordered Blue Banner, totaling nine hundred men, all battle-hardened Jurchen elite troops. This morning, when the city was breached, he specifically ordered the survivors of Hetu Ala to break out to the southeast to find reinforcements, in order to lure these reinforcements out and then take advantage of the terrain to wipe them out in one fell swoop.

"almost……"

Mao Wenlong touched the short gun at his waist; the cold touch of the gun made him even more awake.

He set up three ambushes deep in the dense forest: the front team used tripwires and barricades to block the enemy, the middle team set up a breech-loading cannon and several homemade cannons, and the rear team ambushed archers and swordsmen, just waiting for the prey to crawl into the net.

Sure enough, before half a cup of tea had been brewed, the sound of horses' hooves came from the end of the distant official road. At first, it was sparse and intermittent, but soon it became deafening.

The ground trembled slightly, even shaking the water droplets off the branches, accompanied by the rough shouts of the Jurchen cavalry.

"hurry up!"

"Hetu Ala is in danger! Speed ​​up!"

They had clearly received news of the attack on Hetu Ala and were rushing to provide reinforcements.

"coming!"

Mao Wenlong suddenly stood up, drew his long knife from his waist, and the blade flashed through the forest.

The guards immediately raised the red flag and waved it towards the depths of the dense forest.

In an instant, the Ming soldiers lying in ambush tensed up like lurking tigers:
The gunners pried open the camouflage on the cannon muzzles and brought the fuses close to the tinderboxes; the archers nocked their arrows and drew their bows taut like a full moon; the swordsmen gripped their shields tightly, waiting for the order to rush out and intercept.

The sound of horses' hooves grew closer, and one could vaguely see the leading Jurchen cavalrymen wearing armor with blue borders, the red tassels on their helmets fluttering in the wind.

They clearly hadn't expected an ambush, spurring their horses onward, their formation becoming somewhat scattered.

"Hold on! Wait until they've all entered the valley before making a move!"

Mao Wenlong lowered his voice, his gaze as sharp as a hawk's as he fixed on the approaching enemy troops.

The valley entrance is narrow; as long as both ends are controlled, these nine hundred Bordered Blue Banner soldiers will be trapped like turtles in a jar.

Among the reinforcements from Gule Village, Niohuru Chaohar was galloping at full speed, carrying a horse spear.

This young general, who had just been promoted from Niru Ejen to Beiyu, was the thirteenth son of Eidu, one of the five founding ministers. He was known for his bravery among the younger generation of Jurchens. The jeweled scimitar at his waist was a reward personally bestowed upon him by Nurhaci when he shot a black bear.

But at this moment, there was not a trace of his usual arrogance on his face.

The firelight from the direction of Hetu Ala lit up the sky, and even the air carried a faint smell of burning. That was the direction of their Jurchen holy city!

"Faster! Faster!"

Chao Ha'er kept whipping his warhorse, followed closely by nine hundred Bordered Blue Banner cavalrymen, their hooves kicking up clouds of dust on the official road.

His mind was completely focused on the rescue; he never imagined that the Ming army would dare to ambush them in this heart of the territory.

After all, the area within a hundred li of Hetu Ala had always been the domain of the Jurchens.

As the group rushed into the dense forest valley, the trees on both sides blocked out the sun.

Just as Chao Ha'er was about to urge his horse to speed out of the valley, a thunderous roar suddenly erupted from the forest:
"kill!"

The shout was like a thunderclap from a clear sky. Before the words had even finished, a loud "boom" came from the hillsides on both sides of the valley!
A breech-loading cannon and several homemade cannons fired simultaneously, and the iron bullets whistled as they crashed into the cavalry ranks, instantly blasting the front ranks of men and horses to pieces.

Limbs and broken horse bones flew everywhere, and scalding blood rained down on the faces of the cavalrymen behind them.

"There's an ambush!"

Chao Ha'er's heart sank. Just as he was about to retaliate, he heard a "whoosh" sound above his head.

A dense barrage of arrows, like locusts swarming across the land, poured down from between the branches and leaves.

In order to make their way, most of these cavalry reinforcements wore only light armor, and many of them did not even wear helmets, so arrows could easily pierce their flesh.

"Pfft! Pfft!"

Amidst the vibrating of bowstrings, cavalrymen fell from their horses one after another, their screams echoing throughout the land.

The valley was narrow, and the people behind couldn't stop in time, so they crashed into each other, turning the whole group into complete chaos.

Chao Ha'er's left arm suddenly went numb as a wolf-tooth arrow pierced through his armor and embedded itself deep in his flesh.

He gritted his teeth and pulled out the arrow, blood gushing out and staining half of his battle robe red.

"Charge out! Fight your way out!"

He brandished his lance, trying to organize a breakout, but as soon as he turned his horse around, two more arrows struck his shoulder and thigh.

"Lord Beiyu! Our retreat has been blocked!"

The cries of the guards came from behind.

When Chao Haer looked back, he saw several barricades erected at the end of the valley, with Ming soldiers holding shields and long swords, blocking his retreat like an iron wall.

Despair gripped him in an instant.

But he was, after all, Eidu's son. With a sudden roar, he raised his spear and charged toward the hillside to the side.

Just then, a cold arrow shot out from the forest and pierced his throat with precision.

The arrow, barbed, pierced through the back of the neck, drawing out a string of blood droplets.

Chao Ha'er's lance clattered to the ground, and he clutched his neck in disbelief, blood gushing from between his fingers.

He wanted to see who had killed him, but his vision became increasingly blurry. Finally, he fell heavily off his horse. His eyes, which had once shot a black bear, stared intently at the treetops above him, filled with resentment and bitterness.

He died without ever seeing what the enemy looked like.

The fighting in the valley did not last long.

The Bordered Blue Banner cavalry, now without command, were trapped in a narrow valley and were constantly mowed down by arrows and cannons from both sides.

Ming soldiers with swords and shields blocked both ends, while archers, positioned on the hillside, slaughtered the trapped beast like a hunter in a hunt.

In less than half an hour, there were no more Jurchens standing in the valley. All nine hundred elite soldiers of the Bordered Blue Banner fell into pools of blood.

Mao Wenlong jumped down from the tree, his boots creaking as they stepped into the sticky, bloody ground.

He glanced at Chao Ha'er's lifeless head, then kicked it aside: "Lu Jianxing!"

"My subordinate is here!"

Lu Jianxing, a centurion of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, strode forward, carrying a bag full of bloody human heads.

"Count the heads and record the military achievements."

Lu Jianxing was sent by the emperor to monitor him. He wanted to prove to the emperor that he, Mao Wenlong, was not the kind of person who would exaggerate his military achievements.

in fact.

If Dongjiang Town had sufficient logistical support in the past, Mao Wenlong would not have needed to worry about food supplies and the survival of Dongjiang Town every day, and naturally would not have falsely reported tens of thousands of decapitations as military achievements.

They were all forced into it.

Now, a wise and benevolent ruler is in power.

With no worries about the future and a promising future, why would Mao Wenlong do something as foolish as falsely reporting his military achievements?
"Yes!"

Lu Jianxing accepted the order and left, while the soldiers began dragging the corpses to clear the road.

Mao Wenlong wiped the blood off his face and turned his gaze to the northwest of Hetu Ala.

"Zhao Shuaijiao's side should be making a move soon, we need to rush to provide support."

Since the strategy is to besiege a stronghold and attack reinforcements, it's natural that they won't just attack Gule Village.

Mao Wenlong mounted his horse, gazing at the still blazing fire in the direction of Hetu Ala, a cold, sharp smile curving his lips.

Today, the area around Hetu Ala is destined to be a slaughterhouse for the Jurchens.

The Plain White Banner of Maldun Village, the Bordered Yellow Banner of Sarhu...

No one can escape.

He flicked the reins, and his warhorse galloped northwest, with the Ming soldiers following closely behind. The horses' hooves trampled over the still-damp blood, splashing up dark red water droplets.

The killing continues!

……

P.S.: I forgot to post it; I thought it was scheduled.
(End of this chapter)