Huangming

Chapter 311 Oath-taking ceremony at the altar, undercurrents surging.

The moment Nurhaci vomited blood and fainted, Abahai rushed forward like a madwoman, her vision blurred with tears, and she choked out incoherent cries.

But she had only taken two steps when she was blocked by Hu Erhan.

The veteran general, who had followed Nurhaci for over forty years, now had a grim expression and said in a low voice, "Grand Consort, calm down!"

His gaze swept over the densely packed soldiers around him, their eyes filled with fear, unease, and anxiety about the Khan's life or death.

"With so many eyes watching, if you lose your composure and start crying, the morale of the army will immediately collapse!"

Abahai shuddered, and her crying stopped abruptly.

She suddenly remembered her identity and the miserable state of Hetu Ala at this moment. If even she collapsed, the morale of these remaining soldiers would really fall apart.

She bit her lip hard, swallowing back her sobs, and let Hu Erhan lead her aside.

"Listen up!"

Hu Erhan turned to face the soldiers, his voice booming like a bell, deliberately suppressing the panic in his tone.

"His Khan has been on a campaign for days and is exhausted. He needs to rest now. You all must quickly prepare a tent, without fail!"

Before he finished speaking, he had already ordered someone to bring a temporary military tent, and wrapped the unconscious Nurhaci in the tent to block everyone's view.

Immediately afterwards, he sternly ordered his personal guards, "Go and find the best doctor in the army! A Han Chinese doctor, the kind who knows herbal medicine!"

He deliberately avoided Jurchen shamans.

Those shamanistic rituals and incantations might fool the people on ordinary days, but using them on the Khan now would only hasten his death.

A moment later, a Han Chinese doctor with white hair was brought over.

The old man was wearing a faded long gown, and his hands were trembling like leaves; he had clearly been half-dragged, half-pulled there by the soldiers.

When he was pushed into the tent and saw the Jianzhou nobles surrounding him, each with a fierce look in their eyes, and the person lying on the bed was none other than the legendary Heavenly Mandate Khan, who was said to kill without hesitation, cold sweat instantly soaked through his clothes.

"Quickly...quickly check my pulse!"

Hu Erhan urged, his voice barely concealing his anxiety.

The doctor trembled as he extended his fingers and placed them on Nurhaci's wrist for a pulse.

The pulse under his fingertips was so weak at first that he could hardly feel it. His heart tightened, and his hand trembled so much that he almost pulled it back.

If this can't be cured, I'm afraid I'll lose my life here.

The nobles around him held their breath, their gazes like knives piercing him, and even the sound of the wind outside the tent seemed to freeze.

Just when the doctor thought he was going to die, a steady and powerful pulse suddenly came from his wrist. Although it was not strong, it was rhythmic and had a kind of resilience.

He checked several times to confirm that there was nothing wrong, then breathed a long sigh of relief, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and said in a trembling voice, "The...sweating is nothing to worry about...it was just that I was exhausted from working for days and was emotionally agitated, which caused my blood to rush to my head and I fainted. You can see that my pulse is a little weak, but it is strong. As long as I rest well and take a couple of doses of calming and replenishing medicine, I will wake up in a few days."

Hu Erhan frowned, clearly disbelieving.

He had clearly seen the Khan barely breathing and with bluish lips, so how did the physician's pulse change it to "strong constitution"?
He grabbed the doctor's wrist, his eyes sharp as an eagle's: "Say it again? The Khan was almost out of breath just now, how dare you lie to me?"

The physician was terrified and immediately knelt down: "I wouldn't dare! I wouldn't dare deceive the general! The pulse doesn't lie! The Khan must have been so angry that he held his breath for a moment, but he's recovered now... If you don't believe me, look again, his complexion is even rosier than before..."

Huerhan looked down at Nurhaci on the bed and saw that a trace of color had returned to his pale face, and his breathing seemed to have become more even.

He then released the physician's hand and said in a deep voice, "Prescribe a medicine immediately! If the Khan suffers even the slightest harm, I'll skin you alive!"

"Yes, yes, yes!" The doctor scrambled to find pen and ink, his hands still trembling, but he dared not be negligent in the slightest.

Even after learning that Nurhaci was out of immediate danger, Huerhan's heart remained heavy.

However, at this time, the concern was not for Nurhaci's health, but for the external situation and the hearts of the people.

He stared at the Han Chinese doctor writing in the pharmacy book and immediately asked, "Since you say the Khan is fine, how can we make him wake up right now?"

Although the soldiers outside the tent were appeased, the news of "the Khan fainting" had already spread. If Nurhaci could not be made to show himself immediately, suspicion would surely grow like wildfire.

Once morale is shaken, it's not easy to rebuild it.

Upon hearing this, the doctor looked troubled and rubbed his hands, saying, "Acupuncture might help him wake up, but..."

He stole a glance at Nurhaci on the couch, his Adam's apple bobbing.

That was the ruthless and decisive Khan. If a silver needle were to be inserted into his flesh, and even the slightest mistake were made, I wouldn't have enough lives to compensate for it.

"Just do it."

Hu Erhan interrupted his hesitation, his voice as steady as a rock.

He drew his sword directly from his waist and said, half-threateningly:
"I'll take full responsibility for anything that happens. If you don't, I'll send you to meet the King of Hell right now!"

The doctor looked at the gleaming knife and then at Hu Erhan's resolute eyes, knowing there was no turning back.

He took a deep breath, took out a set of silver needles from the medicine box, sterilized them by burning them over a fire, and although his hands were still trembling slightly, he dared not deviate in the slightest.

He held his breath and focused his mind, first taking a silver needle and precisely inserting it into Nurhaci's philtrum, then gently twisting it; next, he took another needle and inserted it into Neiguan and Baihui points, his technique swift and steady; finally, he placed a needle into Yongquan point and each of the twelve Jing points, and the moment the silver needle pierced the skin, tiny beads of blood, as fine as cow hair, seeped out.

The tent was deathly silent, except for the faint sound of the physician twisting the needle.

Huerhan stared intently at Nurhaci's face, his palms sweating.

Moments later, a miracle really happened.

"Uh~"

Nurhaci let out a cry of pain, his brows furrowed sharply, and his tightly closed eyes slowly opened. At first, his gaze was somewhat unfocused, staring blankly at the felt tent ceiling, but after a moment it gradually focused as he looked at the people gathered around the bed.

"The Khan has awakened!"

Hu Erhan was overjoyed and immediately knelt down, with his guards and physicians following suit.

Nurhaci moved his fingers, trying to prop himself up, but felt weak all over.

He looked at Hu Erhan and asked in a hoarse voice, "Where...am I?"

"Your Majesty, you are in your temporary military tent in Hetu Ala."

Hu Erhan lay prostrate on the ground, his tone urgent.

"You just fainted in front of everyone, and the soldiers outside the tent are in a state of panic. I beg the Great Khan to immediately summon the leaders of all the tribes to the tent for an audience. Just showing their faces will be enough to calm the army down!"

Outside the account.

The white-armored guards of the two yellow banners of this army were all elite soldiers who had followed the Khan through thick and thin, but at this moment they gripped their weapons tightly, their faces filled with undisguised panic.

They were the loyal followers of the Aisin Gioro clan, and the Khan was their heaven. If that heaven collapsed, they would lose their direction.

Not to mention the Mongol tribal soldiers who accompanied the army.

When Nurhaci fainted, Huerhan caught a clear glimpse of him out of the corner of his eye:
Sanggarzhai Taiji, the son of Ming'an Nuoyan of Khorchin, was secretly whispering to his personal guards, his eyes darting around.

Zhongnentaiji (Daishan's father-in-law) and Neiqitaiji (Manggultai's father-in-law) of the Zhalute tribe turned their backs and whispered among themselves, their faces revealing an undisguised strangeness as they plotted their escape.

These Mongol tribes submitted to the Jin Dynasty because they valued its power and hoped to share in its benefits.

The Han slaves they robbed, the gold and silver they plundered, and the livestock on the grasslands—weren't all of these tangible benefits?
But if this "big tree" really falls and Hetu Ala becomes ruins, with no hope of gaining any benefits, why should they still linger here?

He might turn around and lead his people back to the grasslands, or even defect to the Ming Dynasty for a peaceful future.

He listened to what Hu Erhan said.

Nurhaci then recalled the previous horrific scene and the corpses laid out on the drill ground, and a suffocating pain rose in his chest again.

But he was, after all, a seasoned and shrewd man, and he instantly understood Hu Erhan's intentions.

The morale of the troops must not be shaken, especially at this critical juncture.

He pulled out the last silver needle from his body, his fingertips trembling from the coldness of the needle, but he forced himself to sit up straight, suppressing the dull pain in his chest, his voice carrying an undeniable authority:
"Pass on my order: immediately set up an altar for sacrifice!"

Hu Erhan was taken aback: "Great Khan? Your health..."

"I, the Khan, swear a blood oath before everyone to avenge this humiliation!"

Nurhaci's gaze swept across the tent, carrying a fierce intent.

"I also want to show those people outside that I, Nurhaci, am in excellent health!"

He wanted to show those Mongolian Taijis, and to show everyone who was wavering.

He hasn't collapsed yet, the Great Jin hasn't collapsed yet, and no one should think about backing down at this time!

Hu Erhan still looked worried.

The Khan had just regained consciousness and was still breathing heavily. Forcing himself to perform the blood oath at this moment might damage his very health. But seeing the fury burning in Nurhaci's eyes, he swallowed back the words of advice that were on the tip of his tongue.

He knew this Khan too well; once he made a decision, not even eight oxen could pull him back.

"Your servant obeys the Khan's order."

Hu Erhan bowed to accept the order, but when he turned to leave the tent, his steps were heavier than when he had come.

The wind outside the tent picked up, making the large banners beside the tent flutter loudly.

Hu Erhan frowned as he looked at the Mongol soldiers gathered in twos and threes in the distance. He shouted to his guards, "Quickly! Bring black felt to spread out on the altar, prepare sacrificial offerings of cattle and sheep, and find the shaman!"

He gave the instructions while sighing to himself.

On the surface, this sacrificial ceremony was a vow to seek revenge, but in reality, it was more like a performance to appease people's hearts.

However, the protagonist of this drama is the Khan of Destiny, who has just escaped death. No one can say for sure how long this forced "robustness" can last.

Inside the tent, Nurhaci, supporting himself on the edge of the bed, slowly stood up.

He forced himself to drink a bowl of warm deer blood. The thick blood slid down his throat, bringing a touch of warmth, and his face gradually regained some color.

His guards draped armor over him, covering his still slightly trembling body.

Wearing armor, Nurhaci walked slowly but resolutely towards the outside.

soon.

The sacrificial ceremony began on the open ground next to the ruins.

Shamans danced ancient steps around the burning bonfire, the sounds of copper bells and bone whistles echoing in the wind. Sacrificial cattle and sheep were placed on the makeshift altar, and blood dripped from the cracks in the stones onto the scorched earth.

Nurhaci stood in the center of the altar, personally pouring wine onto the fire, and following the shaman's instructions, he cut his fingertip with a knife and dripped his blood into the sacrificial bowl.

He stood up straight the whole time, his movements were slow but steady, and there was no discomfort on his face, as if the person who had just vomited blood and fainted was just someone else.

Beside the altar, the white-armored guards of the two yellow banners stared intently at the figure on the altar. Seeing that the Khan was behaving normally, their hearts, which had been hanging in suspense for half a day, finally settled down.

Some people quietly straightened their backs, while others gripped their knife handles tightly, and the fear in their eyes was gradually replaced by awe.

Their Khan was indeed the Khan of Destiny who could withstand anything.

The Taijis of the various Mongol tribes watched from afar, and the doubts on their faces gradually dissipated.

Sanggarzhai withdrew his gaze from the whispering with his guards. Zhong Nen and Neiqi exchanged a glance, their thoughts of planning an escape route seemingly suppressed by the flames on the altar.

But only they themselves know that something in their hearts has quietly changed.

The previous awe of Nurhaci and fear of the Jianzhou Jurchens gradually deflated like a punctured skin.

Despite several days of continuous attacks by the Eight Banners cavalry, they failed to capture Shenyang.

Hetu Ala, the holy city of the Jurchen people, was burned to the ground by the Ming army.

It turns out that the Jin dynasty was not invincible, and the Jianzhou Jurchens were not the rulers of Liaodong.

They recalled the legends they had heard on the grasslands in their early years: the Ming Dynasty had a vast territory and a million soldiers, but in recent years, due to a lack of vigilance, the Jurchens were able to rise to power.

But now it seems that the sleeping lion has awakened.

As the sacrificial fire gradually died down, Nurhaci stood on the platform, roaring with all his might his vow of revenge.

His voice echoed across the empty ruins, but it failed to elicit the usual thunderous response.

The Mongol princes bowed and saluted, chanting "The Khan is wise," but their eyes showed less genuine fear.

After the ceremony, Huerhan helped Nurhaci back to his tent. Seeing that Nurhaci's steps were unsteady and his lips were pale, Huerhan's heart sank.

He turned to look at the Mongolian tribe's camp. Smoke was still rising from the tents, but it seemed as if there was an invisible wall between them.

This sacrificial ceremony stabilized the morale of the army on the surface, but it failed to truly win over the hearts of the Mongol tribes.

With Shenyang lost and Hetu Ala burned, the myth of the "invincible" Jin dynasty has been shattered.

Once the myth is shattered, it becomes difficult to control the minds of those who were attached to it.

Only through continuous victories can we unite the hearts and minds of these wolves.

but……

Where do we find victory now?
Where is the Mahayana Winning Principles belonging to the Great Gold?
……

the other side.

In the Jurchen camp outside Shenyang, Huang Taiji was frowning as he stared at the map in front of him.

The Ming army's defenses on the south bank of the Hun River were as solid as an iron barrel. After several days of fierce attacks, they suffered heavy losses. Just as he was worrying about not finding a respectable reason to retreat, a personal guard barged in with Nurhaci's oral decree.

"What? Hetu Ala was attacked by the Ming army?"

Huang Taiji slammed his hand on the table and stood up abruptly, his face flashing with three different expressions.

First, they were shocked. Hetu Ala was the birthplace of the Jurchen people and was heavily guarded. The fact that the Ming army could sneak into its heartland and set fire to it was an utter disgrace.

Then came a raging fire. Zhe Zhe and Hauge were both in the city, and at this moment they were probably in grave danger. They were his wife and eldest son.

But in an instant, a hint of joy crept onto his brow.

He finally had an excuse to withdraw his troops.

Under Xiong Tingbi's management, Shenyang was no longer the easily conquered city it once was.

In the past few days, the Eight Banners soldiers have been relentlessly attacked, suffering heavy losses and bleeding profusely.

He had long wanted to withdraw his troops, but before setting out, he had made a pledge, saying that he would "capture Shenyang within ten days." If he returned empty-handed, he would inevitably be ridiculed and punished by Nurhaci.

The news of the attack on Hetu Ala, however, became the perfect excuse.

"Pass on my order!"

Huang Taiji quickly composed himself, and there was no trace of hesitation in his eyes.

"All units pack their bags and break camp at midnight tonight!"

The guards obeyed and left, leaving only him and Li Yongfang, the son-in-law of Fushun, in the tent.

Because Huang Taiji wanted to gain the support of the Han people, Li Yongfang was given an important position by Huang Taiji.

of course.

Li Yongfang may not realize that she is about to face a great calamity.

"Your Highness."

Li Yongfang stroked his beard and said in a low voice, "Withdrawing troops is easy, but how can we safely return to Fushun? If the Ming army discovers our movements, they will definitely pursue us. If the troops on the south bank of the Hun River attack again, our army will be attacked from both sides, which will be very dangerous."

Huang Taiji walked to the tent entrance, looked at the smoke rising from the chimneys of Shenyang in the distance, and sneered: "Xiong Tingbi is an old fox. He would love for us to retreat and would never easily leave the city to pursue us. He wants to defend Shenyang, not fight us in the open field."

But he also knew that one should always be wary of others.

After a moment's thought, he said to Li Yongfang, "You take three hundred white-armored soldiers to cover the rear, plant many flags, and make a show of force so that the Ming army thinks that our army is still in a standoff. I will lead the main force to march quickly along the north bank of the Hun River, leaving a scout team every ten miles along the way. If attacked, they should fire arrows to warn of an attack."

He paused, a ruthless glint in his eyes: "Also, let the Mongol tribes cover the rear. They've been ineffective in battle these past few days, so let them put on a show to delay any potential Ming pursuers."

Li Yongfang nodded in agreement, but secretly admired him.

Huang Taiji's move not only secured his retreat but also served as a tool to kill, while simultaneously giving a warning to those Mongol tribes who were not putting in the effort.

into the night.

Midnight watch.

The Later Jin camp began to stir.

The flags still fluttered, the campfires still burned, but the main force had quietly broken camp and was marching north along the dense forest on the banks of the Hun River.

Huang Taiji, mounted on his horse, glanced back at Shenyang City. His eyes held no lingering affection, only worry for Hetu Ala and a hint of vengeance.

He didn't know if Zhe Zhe and Hauge were still alive, but he knew that this withdrawal was only temporary.

After he has taken care of Hetu Ala's funeral, he will definitely come back and make this hedgehog-like city pay a bloody price.

Shenyang City!
Xiong Tingbi!
You wait for me!
You wait!

(End of this chapter)