Outnumbered? I'll conquer America with an unlimited number of suicide soldiers.

Chapter 149 Today, the plowing of the court and the sweeping of the den.

Yingkou, outside the Great Wall.

The snow came earlier than usual this year. Just after the third day of the ninth lunar month, snowflakes began to fall. At first, there were only a few scattered flakes, but by the afternoon, it had turned into a flurry of heavy snowflakes.

This area is not far from the sea, and with the moisture rising from the Liao River, the first snow was a heavy snow, turning everything in the world into a white expanse in less than half a day.

Scattered among the white mountains and black waters are rows of low-lying mud-brick houses.

The house was made of rammed earth, with a layer of straw mud plastered at the base of the walls. Over the years, most of the mud plaster peeled off, revealing the blackened adobe bricks underneath. The thatched roof was blown about in clumps by the wind.

The house inside Shumulu Guanmafa was not much better than the one outside.

The heated kang (a traditional heated brick bed) was icy cold. He was wrapped in a tattered cotton-padded coat with dozens of patches, and he leaned against the wall, coughing occasionally.

"Honey, have some water."

His wife, Zhulong'a, came over with a bowl of water, her expression blank. "The firewood distributed by the government isn't enough. Even if we burn it sparingly, it'll only last for two months. We need to think of something, otherwise we might not make it through this winter."

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Old Guan took the bowl and drank it all in one gulp, the icy water suppressing the itching in his throat. He wiped the water from his mouth, looked at the white sky outside the window, and remained silent for a while before saying, "The hunting season is about to begin. I'll talk to the others in the village and see if we can take the opportunity to cut some wood in the forest and get some mountain products."

The imperial court decreed that forests were the property of the government and the royal family, and logging was strictly prohibited. Anyone who violated this prohibition by entering forests to cut down and sell timber would be exiled to the malarial and malaria-ridden areas of the south as a soldier.

But Lao Guan no longer cared.

Or rather, the Manchu people in the village didn't really care about this rule.

Life was getting worse year by year, and the imperial court often shortchanged or deducted the grain and pay it. Of the hundreds of bannermen in the village, only about 20% could become armored soldiers or supply soldiers.

In addition, Manchu people were not allowed to farm, work, or do business.

What to do with the remaining Manchus? They could only rely on the mountains and rivers for sustenance.

Take Lao Guan himself, for example. After his quota of soldiers was taken by someone else, he lost even the nominal monthly salary of one tael.

The thirty-six mu of banner land under my name was rented out to Han people for cultivation, with an annual rent of no more than five taels of silver. Nowadays, a dou of rice costs five hundred wen, so I can only exchange it for twenty-two dou of rice.

Twenty-two bushels of rice wouldn't last a family more than four months.

If they don't try to find a way to go into the mountains to trade in some mountain products and cut some firewood during the winter hunting season, a family of four definitely won't survive.

"In addition, I'll go talk to those Nikans who rent our land and mention the rent, so that we can have an easier time."

Upon hearing this, Zhulong'a's face showed a hint of worry: "Should we bring it up again? Our rent is already the highest in the village. If we bring it up again, what if those Nikan don't want to rent next year? We don't have the money to refund their deposits!"

"Not renting? Those Nikans dare?"

Old Guan said fiercely, "I'll contact everyone in the village tomorrow and raise the rent together. Everyone's had a tough time these past two years, they'll definitely be happy to."

"Moreover, I asked them a few days ago, and the Nikan family had a decent harvest this year. They sold nearly forty taels of grain, so they would definitely accept a one or two tael increase in rent."

Just then, a commotion of voices suddenly arose outside.

"Old Guan, are you home?" A man shouted at the top of his lungs outside the door, "Something's happened, come out now!"

"Akton, what's wrong?"

Old Guan, wrapped in a cotton-padded coat, pushed open the door and went out. A cold wind, carrying snowflakes, rushed into the room, making him shiver.

The visitor was Gasanda from the village, in charge of the village's Manchu population's household registration, security, and corvée work. A man in his forties, usually speaking with a strong voice, his face was as white as snow.

Something's happened.

Akdun looked serious and said urgently, "Fulonga saw a large ship at the mouth of the Liao River. It didn't belong to the imperial court; it belonged to foreigners. He has good eyesight and noticed that none of the people on board had queues."

Old Guan exclaimed, "Could they be Cantonese bandits?"

Although they were located outside the Great Wall, they still knew a little about what was happening inside. For example, the Cantonese bandits who had captured Nanjing had sent troops to attack the capital two years ago.

Who knows, maybe a group of Cantonese bandits will sail north and try to attack the area outside the Great Wall?

"That's possible."

Akdun nodded emphatically and said, "I have already sent someone to Niuzhuang to report this matter to the garrison commander. Our village can't sit idly by either; everyone, young and old, must be mobilized to guard against the Cantonese bandits attacking our village."

Akdun's mobilization caused quite a stir in the village.

The village had about a hundred Manchu households, with a total population of only about two hundred, and the number of able-bodied men that could be mobilized was at most sixty or seventy.

The weapons in the storeroom were passed down from the Qianlong era. The spearheads were rusted, the bowstrings broke easily when pulled, and the arrow shafts were riddled with insect holes.

The women hastily rubbed the spearheads on the rocks before stuffing them into the men's hands, and picked out all the usable arrows they could find, managing to gather less than thirty.

Old Guan took a long spear. The shaft slipped in his palm, so he tore off a piece of cloth and wrapped it around the handle. After wrapping it several times, he gripped it tightly and tried to get it out of his hand. At least it was not easy to slip out.

The rammed earth wall was built during the reign of Emperor Kangxi, and it hasn't been properly repaired in over sixty years; some parts have collapsed, and others are gaping.

The men carried sacks of earth to block the breach, while the women and teenagers moved stones onto the wall. The snow fell heavier and heavier. Old Guan piled stones on the wall while looking out over the snow-covered plains beyond the village. The world was a vast expanse of white, and nothing could be seen clearly.

A black dot suddenly flashed through the snow in the distance. Old Guan squinted and held his breath, staring at it for a few moments.

"They're here!"

A flurry of activity erupted at the wall, the men gripping their weapons tightly, all eyes fixed on the black line that gradually emerged from the snow.

The group emerging from behind the snow curtain was not in a hurry.

The infantrymen at the front were arranged in two columns, carrying bayonets-equipped muskets on their shoulders. Their dark gray cotton uniforms stood out against the white snow.

In the middle of the column were mules pulling cannons, their wheels leaving deep black tracks in the snow. Cavalrymen circled around from both sides, their horses tall and strong, riders holding the reins, a thin layer of snow clinging to the muskets on their saddles.

"Are they really Cantonese bandits?" The men on the wall who came to defend the area stared wide-eyed.

"They don't have braids on their heads, so it's almost certain."

"They have cannons, can we defend against them?"

"Can it even defend against my ass!"

Someone muttered in a low voice, "That cannon looks like it weighs at least several thousand pounds. It could easily take down a brick city wall, let alone our broken rammed earth wall!"

Panic immediately erupted in the crowd, and someone shouted, "Should we run? Don't the Nikan people always say, 'Where there's life, there's hope'?"

Akdun shouted, "Run? Where can you run in this snow? Without a horse, you'll die as soon as you go out!"

The troop stopped about two miles outside the village.

Old Guan saw two men rein in their horses at the front of the group. One pointed towards the village, while the other turned his head and said something.

The distance was too far, and I couldn't hear the content of the conversation clearly; I could only catch a few fragmented syllables.

Then Lao Guan saw that the other side had started working on the artillery.

A few dozen breaths later, accompanied by a flash of fire, a shell streaked across the snow and headed straight for them. Before the villagers could react, a deafening roar filled their ears.

boom!

Like a thunderbolt from the sky, the rammed earth wall instantly blasted open a gaping hole half a meter wide. Clods of earth and rubble were scattered, smashing into a dense array of black holes on the snow.

Old Guan was far away, but the strong wind pushed him off the wall and he landed on the snow. He struggled to get up, his ears ringing, and he couldn't hear his own voice when he opened his mouth.

There was a person lying motionless on the ground next to me. He was missing half of his head, and red and white fluids were flowing out and onto the snow, which looked rather jarring.

boom!

Another cannonball fell from the sky and crashed into the crowd.

Old Guan witnessed five or six people being thrown into the air, flipping once in the air, and then crashing onto the wall in contorted positions, clearly dead.

Countless drops of blood and flesh fell with a thud, hitting the snow and landing on people, crimson and warm.

"Run! Run now!"

The village's defenses collapsed completely at that shout, and everyone began to flee. Two powerful explosions in succession terrified them.

Aktun was still standing on the wall, staring in disbelief at the large crater left by the shell explosion, muttering, "Impossible."

The earth trembled slightly, the sound of hundreds and thousands of horses' hooves pounding the ground.

Old Guan got up from the ground and staggered home.

He saw Zhulonga, who was standing at the door of the adobe house, her expression blank and fearful.

She opened her mouth and shouted something to him, but Lao Guan couldn't hear it clearly. However, he could read her lip movements.

Run away!

The sound of horses' hooves grew louder and louder behind him. Suddenly, Lao Guan's legs gave way, and he looked down to see his body slump to the side as snow rushed towards him.

Zhulong'a watched helplessly as the man shrunk down at the courtyard gate. She screamed, but quickly fell silent.

In just over two quarters of an hour, there was no longer a single living creature left in the village.

The cavalryman rode back to his unit and reported to Li Wenzhong: "Commander, the threat has been eliminated."

"Um."

Li Wenzhong nodded and said, "These Manchus are on guard; they might have already reported our movements to their superiors. Full speed ahead! We must reach Niuzhuang, fifty li away, tonight and take it!"

"Take care of all the Manchu villages encountered along the way, just like the cases from the Chenghua era!"

"yes!"

Niuzhuang, the garrison headquarters.

Niuzhuang is an important town on the lower reaches of the Liao River, holding a river transport port. Since the Qianlong era, it has had a garrison commander with three hundred armored men.

This place has been peaceful for a long time, and the only thing to worry about is preventing some starving animals from attacking the village in winter.

This is precisely why the number of armored soldiers has been decreasing over the years. Today, it has dwindled from a peak of three hundred during the Kangxi era to just eighty.

The current garrison commander is named Nesuken, a fourth-rank official, who has been stationed in Niuzhuang for twelve years.

At this moment, he was sitting on the heated kang in the back hall of the yamen, drinking liquor with peanuts.

Snowflakes were falling heavily outside the window, covering the windowsill with a thick layer of white, but the heat emanating from the fireplace made the room warm and cozy.

He was only wearing a gray cotton-padded jacket and a pair of old official boots, with his legs crossed high.

Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded outside the door, followed by a report: "Sir, something has happened!"

"What could be so urgent?" Nesuken frowned, put the wine bowl on the kang table, and said, "Goshha, come in and talk."

"twitter!"

Goshha pushed open the door and entered. He took a few steps to the kang (a heated brick bed) and knelt down on one knee: "A group of people from a village came to the yamen and kept shouting that the Cantonese bandits were attacking."

Seeing the urgency in his tone, the servant realized it didn't seem fake, so he came to inform the master.

Nesuken's brow furrowed even deeper: "What did he say?"

"It is said that a large foreign ship sailed into the mouth of the Liao River. The people on board did not have queues at the back of their heads and looked like Cantonese bandits."

Nesuken listened expressionlessly, then suddenly scoffed, "Fool!"

In June of this year, the Grand Council issued a decree to the world: the Cantonese bandits who attacked the north had been wiped out, and bandit leaders such as Lin Fengxiang and Li Kaifang had been captured and executed.

It's the dead of winter now, and you're telling him that the Cantonese bandits have reached the mouth of the Liao River on foreign ships?

"I remember you also read the official report about the annihilation of the Cantonese bandits. Why do you believe everything others say? Go down and get two lashes to teach yourself a lesson."

"twitter."

Goshha pushed it out backwards.

As soon as he stepped out of the back hall, his expression changed. His pent-up shame and anger, with nowhere to vent, transformed into a raging inferno, and he stormed headed straight for the yamen gate.

Outside the yamen gate, in the knee-deep snow, a Manchu man named Fulonga waited anxiously. Soon, he saw the person who had gone to report return.

"big----"

Before he could finish speaking, Goshha pulled out a riding whip from his waist and began to strike.

The first lash struck Fulonga's face, the leather whip cracking damply, leaving a red mark that stretched from his cheekbone to his ear. The second lash landed on his shoulder, tearing his cotton-padded coat and revealing the dirty cotton inside.

The third lash struck the back of his neck, and Fulonga collapsed to the ground, curling up in pain, crying out, "My lord, spare me! My lord, spare me!"

"You motherfucker, you're lying to a man like that!"

Seeing this, Goshha whipped him even harder: "The Cantonese bandits in the north were wiped out by the Prince Seng this May. You come here to spout nonsense and cause us to be punished by the magistrate."

"I won't be able to vent this anger in my heart until I finally get my hands on you today!"

Fulonga wailed, repeatedly saying, "My lord, it's true! It's true! I saw it with my own eyes!"

"roll!"

Goshha threw the whip on the ground, signaling several guards to drag the man away so he wouldn't be an eyesore at the door.

The guards each grabbed one of Fulonga's arms, lifted him up from the ground, and dragged him away from the yamen.

Fulonga was thrown onto the snow and covered his face, wailing. When he was tired of crying, he got up and continued walking towards the government office with a limp.

His horse is still at the yamen gate; this beast cannot be lost.

Meanwhile, Nesuken, sitting on the heated kang (a traditional heated brick bed), picked up his wine glass again and began humming a tune.

Having had a good drink, he went to another room and, seeing the woman with her white legs exposed and shoes hooked on her feet by the bed, lewdly pounced on her.

As the night deepened and he slept soundly, someone frantically pounded on the door: "Sir, something terrible has happened! Horsemen, all of them horsemen, they've surrounded the entire city!"

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