Huangming

Chapter 422 The Jurchens are terrified, Tai Chi vomits blood.
Dark as ink.

Inside the Ming army camp outside Hetu Ala, the sounds of battle cries shook the heavens!
Amin's personal guards, elite soldiers Gebushi Xianchaoha, unleashed a final roar, recklessly ramming their bodies into the last hastily formed human wall of the Ming army.

Swords flashed like a forest, and blood rained down.

Spears pierced the warhorse, and scimitars severed arms.

The two Red Banner cavalry paid a heavy price, managing to tear a gap in the Ming army's line of firearms and heavy infantry blocking their way!
Amin personally led over a hundred of his fiercest cavalrymen, who, like red-hot iron rods, fiercely pierced through this last line of defense!
The main tent is right in front of us!

He could even see the utterly horrified look in the eyes of the guards in front of the tent!

The roaring campfire illuminated the curtain of the main tent, as if Xiong Tingbi were right behind it!
"boom!"

A loud bang!
It wasn't the sound of cannons, but a group of infantrymen wearing double-layered heavy armor suddenly rushed out from the side and rear of the main tent!
They were few in number, about three hundred, but their equipment was extremely sophisticated. Everyone was clad in iron armor and carried a giant shield and a long spear, each as tall as a person.

These were Xiong Tingbi's last armored guards.

"Iron Wall Battalion"!
They were like mobile steel fortresses, instantly blocking the space between the main tent and Amin. Huge shields slammed heavily to the ground, forming an impenetrable iron wall!
Almost simultaneously, a rapid and precise burst of musket fire rang out from a high point behind the main tent!
It was the musket squad of Zhou Wenhuan's personal guards that he had urgently summoned. They were positioned on high ground and fired fiercely at Amin and his core group of dozens of riders!

"Pfft!"

"Ugh!"

The dense barrage of lead bullets was incredibly powerful at such close range, and Amin's personal guards fell like wheat being harvested.

A warhorse's head was shattered by a lead bullet, and it crashed to the ground, tripping several riders behind it.

Amin himself felt a huge shock coming from the armor on his left shoulder. A scorching impact made him stagger and almost fall off his horse!

His BMW was also grazed by a stray bullet, emitting a painful screech.

That brief delay and the sudden closure of the Iron Wall Battalion instantly blocked the last passage!

Fall short!
"Your Highness! It's no use! The Ming dogs are closing in!"

A blood-covered Jiala Ezhen pointed around and shouted desperately.

From the east, west, and south, more Ming troops, having recovered from the initial chaos, were charging in from all directions like an angry torrent of iron, holding a forest of torches!

The sounds of muskets exploding and crossbows piercing the air grew increasingly frequent.

The cavalry around Amin were decreasing at a visible rate, and they were compressed into a small space in front of the Iron Wall Battalion's shield formation, becoming live targets for the Ming army's long-range weapons.

Amin looked around. In the firelight, he saw faces covered in blood and filled with despair. He had less than a hundred riders left, all of them wounded and their horses exhausted.

Ahead lay sturdy iron shields and muskets spitting fire, while all around them surged the main force of the Ming army, their battle cries deafening.

A fierce flame of resentment and madness flashed in his deep eyes.

Xiong Tingbi is right there in that damned central command tent!

It's so close, it seems within easy reach!
He even caught a glimpse of the crimson official robe representing the supreme commander of the Ming Dynasty peeking through the gap in the tent flap!
"Ah—! All our efforts have been in vain!"

Amin let out a mournful roar like a wild beast.

Just these last ten steps!
This damn iron wall!

That damned musket!

He abruptly turned his horse around, his blood-stained saber pointing out of the camp, his voice hoarse but filled with a final, resolute determination:

"Charge out! Every person who can escape is a chance! Back to Longgang Mountain!"

The last few dozen Manchu warriors unleashed their final ferocity, no longer attempting to charge the main tent, but instead turning back towards the relatively weaker route, like trapped beasts.

They launched a desperate breakout attempt towards the northeast.

They will use their blood and lives to tear open a path to survival for any surviving comrades!
now.

Inside the central command tent.

Xiong Tingbi had already put on his armor.

He held a ring-pommel sword in his hand, his face serious.

The sounds of battle cries from just ten paces away still echoed in my ears: the roars of the Jurchen cavalry, the angry shouts of the Ming guards, and the crisp sounds of clashing swords and spears, like countless needles pricking my nerves.

He glanced down at the ring-pommel sword in his hand; the hilt was still damp with his own cold sweat, and the moisture from his palm made the sandalwood handle slippery.

When the chaos broke out outside the tent, he had even gripped the hilt of his sword, ready to rush out and fight the enemy.

As the commander-in-chief of an army of 100,000, if he were to retreat, the morale of the entire army would collapse in an instant.

"I misjudged Amin."

Xiong Tingbi muttered to himself.

He originally thought that Amin would follow Ajige's example and harass the supply lines, or go around to Liaoyang to launch a siege to rescue Zhao, but he did not expect that this man would be so crazy as to lead his cavalry straight to the central command tent, wanting to take his head to break the deadlock!

He raised his hand and touched the side of his neck, where a slight chill still lingered.

If it weren't for his personal guards' valiant protection, disregarding the danger, he would probably be beheaded by now.

The shouts of battle outside the tent gradually subsided, leaving only sporadic screams and the clatter of horses' hooves fading into the distance.

Xiong Tingbi relaxed his tense shoulders slightly, but still did not dare to remove his armor.

The Jurchens are known for their cunning; this retreat could very well be a feint.

at this time.

The tent flap was suddenly flung open, and a figure covered in blood staggered in.

It was Zhou Hu, the captain of the personal guard.

His left arm armor was slashed open, and a deep wound that exposed bone was hastily wrapped with burlap, with blood dripping from his fingertips onto the ground.

He knelt on one knee, his voice hoarse from panting: "Lord General, we held them! The Jurchens... the Jurchen cavalry have already retreated north!"

A glint flashed in Xiong Tingbi's eyes, and he suddenly stood up straight, the ring-pommel sword clanging as it was sheathed.

"Withdraw? My Great Ming's central army camp is not a place that Amin can come and go as he pleases?"

Zhou Hu covered his wound and grinned.

"Don't worry, General!"

General He had anticipated that the Jurchens might try to flank them, so he left two thousand cavalrymen in the northern camp to await orders.

As soon as the Jurchens retreated, General He led his men in pursuit. Prince Shunli, Buhe, and Chaohua's Mongol cavalry also followed, attacking from both sides. Amin's remaining cavalry have no chance of escape!

Upon hearing this, Xiong Tingbi finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Although the Ming army besieged the city, it was still too close to Hetu Ala.

Amin's attack on the central army camp took a considerable amount of time.

After a while, the garrison in Hetu Ala realized what was going on.

Once the cavalry got their hands on him, Amin probably wouldn't be able to escape!

the other side.

On the banks of the Suzi River.

Amin wiped the mixture of sweat and blood that was obscuring his eyes; his warhorse was already panting like a broken bellows.

Last night, after that desperate attack that ended in failure in front of Xiong Tingbi's central command tent, he led several dozen cavalrymen to break through the encirclement.

Afterwards, they gathered together the cavalry who had broken out along with them, totaling more than 800 riders, and fled westward in a desperate escape.

However.
The long line of torches behind them pressed on relentlessly; that was the two thousand Liaodong cavalry personally led by He Shixian.

Amidst the billowing dust rising on the horizon ahead, Shunyi Wang Buhe's Mongol light cavalry, like wolves smelling blood, were closing in on them!

"Your Highness! Our retreat has been blocked by the Mongol Tartars!"

A Jala Ejen shouted hoarsely.

He pointed northeast.

Last night, at the edge of the dense forest at the foot of Longgang Mountain where they were hiding, the flags of Ming infantry were prominently displayed!

The Ming army's heavily armored soldiers formed a moving iron-gray dam, with a forest of spears and a formidable shield formation, completely blocking the last escape route into the mountains.

He Shixian's cavalry pressed from the rear, while Buhe's Mongol cavalry flanked from the front, and the Ming army's heavy infantry guarded the flanks.

Amin's eight hundred remaining cavalry were squeezed into a riverbed depression less than two miles long, surrounded by enemies on three sides and backed by the icy Suzi River.

Amin reined in his restless warhorse, his gaze sweeping across the desolate landscape. There was not a trace of panic in his eyes, only an icy calm.

He suddenly raised the chipped blade of his sword, his voice tinged with a sense of tragic heroism.

"Warriors of the Great Jin! This place is where we will be buried today!"

But before he dies, he wants the Ming dogs and the Mongols to remember:
The blades of the Eight Banners cavalry are sharp even in death! Follow me!!!

He suddenly pointed his blade forward, aiming straight for the seemingly weakest point on the left flank of the Buhe Mongol cavalry.

"Break through them!"

The final roar exploded like thunder!

"kill!"

"kill!"

"kill!"

The eight hundred remaining cavalrymen roared like trapped beasts on the verge of death, following closely behind Amin, transforming into a blood-stained cone, and crashing fiercely into the Mongol cavalry formation!

Buhe's Mongol cavalry were skilled in mounted archery and intended to wear down the enemy by moving around and firing in bursts. However, they did not expect Amin to be so fearless and charge straight at their own lines!

In the chaos, the left flank of the Mongol cavalry was cleaved in two by this desperate charge!
Amin took the lead, his sword transforming into a splash of silver light as he slashed left and right, leaving none who stood in his way!
His companion, Gebushi Xianchaoha, risked his life to shield the prince from arrows and spears fired from the side.

In an instant, they actually tore a bloody gash in the Mongol cavalry formation!
"Stop him!"

Buhe gave a stern order from behind the lines.

More Mongol cavalry surged in like a tide, attempting to close the gap.

The two cavalrymen clashed fiercely in the narrow breach, horses neighing and collapsing to the ground, riders rolling in the mud, blades flashing and blood and flesh flying everywhere.

Amin's mount was pierced by several spears and collapsed with a crash!

With a swift roll and leap, he snatched a spear dropped by a Ming soldier, then stabbed through the horse of a Mongol centurion, throwing him off!

however.

Even the bravest warrior cannot withstand overwhelming numbers and time.

Just as Amin's troops were locked in a fierce battle with the Mongol cavalry, He Shixian's Liaodong cavalry had already smashed into the rear of Amin's troops like an iron hammer!
The Ming army's heavily armored infantry also advanced from the flanks with heavy steps, their spears thrusting like a forest, their sabers specifically designed to slash at the horses' legs.

The riverbank restricted the cavalry's movement, and Amin's remaining troops were completely compressed into an ever-shrinking vortex of death, with people falling every minute and every second.

After an hour of fierce fighting.

Amin was covered in blood, her left arm hanging limply, clearly broken, and a deep, bone-revealing knife wound on her right shoulder, the flesh torn open.

He wielded the spear he had seized with only his right hand, each thrust sending up a spray of blood, his feet having trampled countless corpses of both his own and the enemy's.

He had fewer than ten guards left, each one looking like a blood-soaked gourd, back to back in a circle, putting up a last stand.

"Amin! Surrender and you'll be spared!"

He Shixian stood on high ground on his horse, his voice carrying through the clamor of the battlefield.

The only response he received was Amin's wild, tearing laughter:
"He Shixian! In the Great Jin Dynasty, only those who die in battle are ghosts, not dogs who kneel to live!"

Before the laughter subsided, a heavy arrow, seemingly from nowhere, pierced his left rib with a "thud"!

Amin's body trembled violently, but he stubbornly held on, pulled out the arrow with his backhand, drawing a trail of blood, and hurled the arrow toward the source of the sound. Although he was exhausted and did not reach it, his fierce aura made the Ming soldiers nearby gasp in shock!
It's that momentary delay!

Several of He Shixian's personal guards, heavy cavalry, seized the opportunity, spurred their horses, and charged forward. Their heavy lances, propelled by the horse's momentum, pierced Amin from different directions!

"Puff! Puff! Puff!"

The sharp spear tip pierced through the tattered armor and plunged deep into the torso!
As if struck by lightning, Amin's burly body was thrown off the ground by several powerful impacts, only to fall heavily back into the muddy pool of blood!
The ground beneath him was instantly stained dark red.

This Jurchen chieftain, who once struck fear into the hearts of the Ming army in Liaodong and was the unparalleled brave and fierce Beile of Jianzhou, now lay supine on the cold riverbank.

Blood gushed from his mouth, nose, and dozens of wounds all over his body. The morning light reflected in his wide-open eyes, which seemed to still burn with the flames of resentment as he stared intently at the gray sky.

He dug his right hand deep into the mud beneath him, gripping the knife tightly until his last breath.

A brief silence enveloped the blood-soaked riverbank.

He Shixian rode forward, looked down at Amin's angry-eyed body, remained silent for a moment, and finally just waved his hand heavily:

“Sever the head and send it to the governor’s tent. As for the body… wrap it up.”

With Amin's death, the last few dozen Manchu soldiers completely lost their will to resist, and the sound of weapons falling to the ground echoed. This thrilling night raid and counter-encirclement ended with the complete annihilation of the main force of the Jianzhou Red Banners.

Soon after.

In the large tent of the Chinese army.

Xiong Tingbi then saw Amin's head.

Amin's severed head had its eyes wide open, its brows furrowed, and even its lips and teeth were still stained with dark red blood. The resentful and ferocious aura seemed to have not yet dissipated from the corpse.

Xiong Tingbi slowly leaned down, staring into Amin's unwilling eyes.

A moment later, he straightened up, tilted his head back, and let out two hearty laughs.

"Hahaha!"

"I've been waiting for this head for a full half month!"

His tone was filled with long-suppressed joy:
“Ajige’s head has also been delivered from outside Fushun Pass.”

Today, on the banks of the Suzi River, Amin has once again become a ghost beneath the steps.

"These two most capable arms of Huang Taiji have finally been cut off by this Grand Coordinator!"

As he spoke, he grabbed the wine jug on the table and took a big gulp. The strong liquor flowed down his neck and into his collar, but it did nothing to diminish the sharp glint in his eyes.

The guards and advisors inside the tent watched him with bated breath, their faces also showing smiles.

From Ajige's harassment of the supply lines and subsequent encirclement, to Amin's surprise attack on the central command tent resulting in a disastrous defeat.

For the past two weeks, Xiong Tingbi has barely slept, often sitting in front of maps until dawn.

Now that he had two enemy leaders in his hands, the huge weight on his heart was finally lifted.

"Issue the order of the General!"

Xiong Tingbi slammed the wine pot heavily on the table, spilling a few drops of wine.

"At dawn tomorrow, carry the heads of Ajige and Amin on wooden poles, and then unfurl the captured Plain Blue Banner and two Red Banners."

Expose the holes in the flag's corners and the bloodstains on its surface, and set it up against the inner city wall!

"Have the soldiers below the city shout loudly to tell Huang Taiji and the Jurchens who are still resisting in the inner city."

The prince they had placed so much hope in now had only two heads left.

Their proud Eight Banners elites either died in Fushun or were buried in the Suzi River!

If they surrender now, this strategist will spare their lives.

If they dare to resist any further, once the breech-loading cannons breach the inner city, not a single one will be spared!

"The last general takes command!"

The guards responded loudly, then turned and left, holding Amin's head in their hands.

After giving these instructions, Xiong Tingbi returned to his desk, then suddenly remembered something and turned to look at his advisor Zhou Wenhuan beside him:

"Also, send a fast messenger to Liu Xingzuo, Qi Jin, and Li Hongji, instructing them to immediately withdraw their troops from Fushun Pass and reach Hetu Ala within three days!"
Tell them to tighten the encirclement as much as possible, especially around Longgang Mountain to the east and Suzi River to the west; not even a single bird should be allowed to escape!

Upon hearing this, Zhou Wenhuan quickly bowed and greeted him, his tone carrying a hint of probing:

"Does Your Excellency mean that Huang Taiji's only option left is to break out of the encirclement?"

"Or does he have other options?"

Xiong Tingbi sneered.

"In the past two weeks, the ammunition for the breech-loading cannons transported from Liaoyang has filled three warehouses."

The inner city's stone walls are sturdy, but our cannons bombard them day and night. Even the strongest walls will eventually be breached.

“With Ajige dead, the supply lines will not be cut off; with Amin defeated, the surprise attack has become a pipe dream.”

Huang Taiji had only 20,000 old, weak, and disabled soldiers left, guarding an isolated city without any outside help. He had no choice but to break out under cover of night.

Zhou Wenhuan followed his gaze and nodded thoughtfully:
"Understood, Your Majesty. I will immediately draft the imperial edict, ordering Generals Liu Xingzuo and his two companions to guard all the key roads and ensure that Huang Taiji does not escape!"

time flies.

Soon, it was the next day.

The dawn light had not yet pierced the thick fog over Hetu Ala.

The Ming army had already moved.

Heavy shield infantry escorted two shield wagons, slowly making their way towards the inner city wall of Hetu Ala.

The wheels of the Ming army's chariots rolled over the gravel road, making a dull "creak" sound that was particularly jarring in the quiet morning light.

Two maroon chariots moved side by side, their wheels still stained with mud from the previous night. Three large flags were diagonally inserted into the shafts of the chariots: the indigo of the Plain Blue Flag and the crimson of the Plain Red Flag and the Bordered Red Flag fluttered in the fog, and the edges of the flags, torn by swords and spears, rolled up in the wind.

At the top of the flagpole of both the Plain Red Banner and the Plain Blue Banner, a blackened head is nailed.

On the flagpole of the Zhenglan Banner at the very front, Ajige's head had wide-open eyes, and his beard was still covered with congealed blood scabs.

On the flagpole of the Red Flag next to him, Amin's severed head was ashen-faced, his lips pressed into a stiff arc, as if he were still roaring before his death.

Ming soldiers pushed their chariots to a stop on an open ground a hundred paces from the inner city.

As the fog gradually dissipated, the Jurchen defenders on the city wall finally saw the scene at the top of the flagpole, and gasps of astonishment filled the air.

"It's...it's the head of the Great Prince!"

Behind the battlements, a wrinkled veteran of the Two Red Banners suddenly trembled as he gripped his bow and arrow, and the arrow shaft clattered to the ground.

He had followed Amin into battle at Sarhu and witnessed the sight of this great prince wielding his sword to kill a Ming army centurion.

But now, that familiar face is nailed to the enemy flag, its empty eyes staring at its own people.

The young soldier beside him was a newly conscripted Jurchen boy; his lips were still trembling.
"And the Fourth Prince..."

Didn't Ajige Beile go to harass the grain supply route?

how come……"

Before he could finish speaking, he was shoved by a Han Chinese soldier next to him.

The Han army soldier stared at the severed head on the flagpole, his face paler than the boy's, and the muzzle of his musket drooped unconsciously.

The whispers on the city wall grew louder and louder. Many of the hands that had been gripping their swords and spears tightly loosened their grip, and even the soldiers of the Bordered Yellow Banner in the supervisory team had a hint of panic in their eyes.

"What's the noise?"

A furious shout came from the arrow tower. Huang Taiji, wearing a cotton armor with yellow trim, strode up the city wall, followed by Fan Wencheng and Tong Yangxing.

As he approached the top of the battlements, his gaze was fixed on the three large flags, and his pupils suddenly contracted.

He would never mistake the old scar on Ajige's brow bone or the mole on Amin's chin.

A chill ran from the soles of my feet to the top of my head.

It’s over.

Ajige's five thousand cavalry and Amin's four thousand elite troops were his only hope outside the city. Now, even their heads have become spoils of war for the Ming army. Hetu Ala's inner city has truly become an isolated city.

He could feel the gazes of the soldiers around him, filled with fear, doubt, and a hint of barely concealed wavering.

If this continues, the people in the city will have to scatter before the Ming army even attacks.

"Shut up, everyone!"

Huang Taiji suddenly turned around and shouted to the crowd behind him:

"This is a feint by the Ming army!"

The flag was a fake, and the severed head was also counterfeit!
Xiong Tingbi just wanted to trick you into surrendering so he could slaughter my Eight Banners soldiers!

He reached down and drew the iron sword from his waist, the blade pointing at the chariots below the city.

"Anyone who dares to spread rumors again will be executed without mercy!"

The commotion on the city wall was temporarily suppressed, but the soldiers' bowed heads and evasive eyes spoke volumes about their disbelief.

Just then, the fog completely dissipated, and a hundred or so people dressed in tattered prison clothes suddenly appeared, beyond the range of the crossbows below the city.

They were all Jurchen soldiers who had been captured a few days earlier. Some had blood-soaked burlap wrapped around their arms, and some had marks of shackles on their legs. They were being escorted by Ming soldiers and stood in a row.

At the very front was a tall man with a scar on his face; he was none other than Bolo, the Meile Zhangjing of the Plain Blue Banner.

He cleared his hoarse throat, and his voice drifted up to the city wall on the morning breeze:

"Brothers on the city walls, I am Bolo!"

Don't listen to Huang Taiji's lies. Fourth Prince Ajige did indeed die in battle. I saw with my own eyes the place where he committed suicide near the grain depot outside Fushun Pass!

He raised his bandaged hand and pointed to the plain blue flag.

"The severed head on that flag is his!"

Immediately afterward, a disheveled Jurchen man stepped forward; he was Tiele Baturu, the head of the Plain Red Banner.

His armor had long been confiscated by the Ming army, leaving him only in a single layer of clothing. He was shivering with cold, yet he shouted with all his might:

"Even the eldest prince Amin is dead!"
Yesterday, he launched a surprise attack on the Ming army's central camp, but was blocked by He Shixian's cavalry on the banks of the Suzi River and was killed by a hail of spears!
I was in the prisoner-of-war group, I saw it all clearly!

"The Ming army has 200,000 troops, and their grain supplies are piled up higher than mountains. We only have 20,000 people in the inner city, and our grain supplies are only enough to last for half a month!"

Bolo continued shouting, his voice filled with the will to survive.

"Surrender now, and the Ming army will grant you land and exempt you from taxes, allowing you to live! If you continue to resist with Huang Taiji, when the city falls, not a single chicken or dog will be spared!"

The soldiers on the city wall were completely thrown into chaos.

Bolo and Tiele Baturu were both acquaintances in the army, and their words were a hundred times more effective than Huang Taiji's roar.

The old Manchu soldier squatted on the ground, holding his head in his hands, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably.

The supervising officers wanted to draw their swords to intimidate the soldiers, but seeing more and more soldiers wavering around them, they couldn't bring themselves to raise their hands.

"enough!"

Huang Taiji could no longer contain himself. His eyes were bloodshot as he stared down at the city walls. He grabbed Jirgalang's arm and shouted:
"Jirhalang! Take three hundred Bayara, open the city gates, and reclaim the flags and heads! Anyone who dares to retreat will be beheaded!"

Jirhalang gritted his teeth, turned around, and rushed down from the city wall.

After a while.

The drawbridge in the inner city creaked and groaned as it was lowered, and the city gates slowly opened. Three hundred heavily armored Bayara cavalrymen, gripping their sabers, spurred their horses and charged toward the Ming army's chariots.

But they had only rushed fifty paces when a deafening drumbeat suddenly erupted from behind the earthen slopes on both sides.

The Ming infantry, who were well prepared, rushed out pushing shield carts, and the musketeers hidden behind the carts pulled their triggers in unison.

The sound of gunfire exploded in the morning mist, and a number of Bayara cavalrymen in the front row fell instantly. Their horses, startled, reared up and threw their riders to the ground.

"Withdraw! Quickly withdraw!"

Seeing that the situation was not good, Jirhalang roared and gave the order.

Before they could retreat back to the city gate, the sound of horses' hooves suddenly came from afar.

He Shixian's cavalry has arrived!

Hundreds of Ming cavalrymen, brandishing their sabers, flanked the Bayara cavalry from both sides, leaving them no choice but to flee towards the city gate in disarray.

The Ming cavalry pursued them relentlessly, almost charging into the inner city, until the archers on the city walls fired arrows desperately, barely managing to force them back.

The drawbridge was raised again, the city gates were closed, but the morale on the city walls had completely collapsed.

Huang Taiji stood on the battlements, looking at the two glaring heads on the Ming army's chariots below the city walls, and then at the dejected soldiers around him. Suddenly, he felt a wave of dizziness.

Ajige and Amin died in battle.

Morale in the city was low.

The end is truly coming for Hetu Ala.

"Uh-huh~"

"Pfft~"

Huang Taiji couldn't catch his breath, let out a scream like Wang Lang, spat out a mouthful of blood, and fell straight down.

PS:

Thank you so much to "Fire Chicken Noodles Are Really Not Spicy" for the 15000 Qidian Coins reward! This is the first time I've received so many rewards. I'll add an extra chapter tonight!
Also, I'd like to ask for your subscription and monthly pass.

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(End of this chapter)