The Ming Dynasty: A bookstore sells the history of the Ming Dynasty, leaving Emperor Chongzhen bewil

On the second day of the tenth month of the second year of Chongzhen's reign, after much deliberation, Huang Taiji took almost all of the Later Jin's possessions and began his westward march.

One hundred thousand people.

Huang Taiji mentally counted again: two yellow banners, two white banners, two red banners, two blue banners, plus the Mongol tribes that had submitted, plus the newly formed Han army firearms battalion—this was the largest military operation since the founding of the Jin Dynasty.

They won; from then on, the Ming Dynasty would become a storehouse for the Jurchens to take whatever they wanted.

We lost...

Huang Taiji sat calmly on horseback; he had never considered losing.

October 14th, deep in the grasslands, the Later Jin camp.

The army has been gone from Shengjing for twelve days and has entered the depths of the Mongolian grasslands.

The grassland became increasingly desolate, the grass grew shorter and the wind became stronger. A few days ago, you could occasionally see a few yurts, but these days there wasn't a soul in sight. The 100,000-strong army stretched out like a long dragon, walking between heaven and earth, like a group of lonely souls abandoned on the wasteland.

At night, the wind howled through the tents.

Inside the central command tent, Huang Taiji was still looking at the map. He had looked at it hundreds of times, and he knew every mountain ridge and every river by heart. But he still dared not put it down, afraid that he might have missed something or that there was something he hadn't figured out.

The tent curtain was suddenly lifted.

A cold wind blew in, making the map rattle. Huang Taiji looked up and saw two people standing at the door; they were Daišan and Mangultai.

Daishan's face was very ugly. This great prince was always composed and never showed his emotions, but at this moment there was something in his eyes that Huang Taiji had never seen before, a kind of anxiety that was almost desperate.

"Eighth Brother," Dai Shan's voice was deep, "Your Fifth Brother and I have something to say."

Huang Taiji put down the map and stood up: "Eldest brother, fifth brother, come in and talk."

Mangultai kicked aside the stool beside him and stood straight in the tent: "Eighth brother, I'll be frank, this battle cannot be fought."

Daishan didn't speak, but he stood there, clearly conveying the same meaning.

Huang Taiji's expression did not change. He remained silent for a moment before slowly speaking, "Eldest brother, fifth brother, you have come to persuade me to withdraw my troops."

"Advice?" Mangultai looked worried. "Eighth brother, look outside! What kind of place is this? This is the Mongolian grassland! How many miles are we from Shengjing? How many miles are we from the Great Wall? We have 100,000 men, how much food do we need every day for the men and horses? If the Ming army attacks from behind and our retreat is cut off, we will all die here!"

At this moment, Daishan also spoke up, "Eighth Brother, have you thought about this? What if the Ming army knows our movements and sets up an ambush at the Great Wall pass, and we just walk right in? What if the Liaodong soldiers at Shanhaiguan cut off our rear from the east? What if the Mongols turn against us and intercept us on the grasslands? What if our supply lines are cut off? What will 100,000 people eat in this wasteland?"

He took a step forward, staring into Huang Taiji's eyes: "Eighth Brother, I know you want to attack the Ming capital, and I also know that if we win this battle, we can turn our fortunes around, but... what if we lose?"

The tent was eerily quiet, with only the wind howling outside.

Huang Taiji stood there, motionless.

After a long silence, Huang Taiji spoke: "A wise man follows the Way, but if he gives up halfway, I cannot stop him."

However, Daišan and Mongol Ertai became more and more agitated as they spoke, and the more they felt they should withdraw their troops. Huang Taiji initially tried to explain patiently, but as the conversation progressed, he also lost his temper.

The three brothers' voices grew louder and louder, and their tempers flared more and more. Gradually, their conversation turned into an argument, which escalated until late at night, with none of them able to convince the others.

They parted on bad terms.

Huang Taiji was so angry that he trembled all over, his face turned ashen, and his heart was pounding. Could it be that all the princes thought the same way?

The scene at Ningyuan's front line during the Battle of Ningjin, where "none of the princes responded," is truly unforgettable!

Are we really going to have to withdraw our troops?

Huang Taiji was unwilling to give up. He walked to the tent entrance and said to the guards, "Go and invite Prince Yuetuo and Prince Jirhalang. They should come now."

Half an hour later.

Yuetuo and Jirhalang entered the main tent. Both were in their twenties. One was Huang Taiji's nephew and Daishan's eldest son, and the other was his cousin.

Huang Taiji sat before the map without looking up. His voice sounded weary, as if it came from a great distance: "Daišan and Mangultai have come. They insist on withdrawing their troops. I also think they have a point. Tomorrow... we will withdraw our troops."

Yuetuo stood there without saying a word.

Jirhalang also remained silent.

Huang Taiji finally raised his head and looked at the two young men. The flickering candlelight in the tent cast shadows on his face, and there was something indescribably complex in his eyes—the tentative gaze of a desperate man in his final moments. "What do you think?"

Yue Tuo spoke up.

There was only one word: "No".

Huang Taiji's heart skipped a beat.

Jirgalang took a step forward, his voice not loud, but firm and resolute: "Great Khan, this expedition has great potential; we must not retreat."

Huang Taiji looked at them, and his eyes finally lit up.

He recalled the looks in Daishan and Mangultai's eyes earlier. They were the eyes of seasoned strategists, the eyes of loyal ministers, but also, the eyes of those afraid of losing.

The two young men in front of me had only one thing in their eyes: faith.

They believed in him.

I believe we can win this battle.

Huang Taiji took a deep breath, slowly stood up, walked to the map, stretched out his hand, and pressed it heavily on the line of the Great Wall: "Tomorrow, the army will continue westward."

Yuetuo and Jirhalang knelt on one knee: "Yes, sir!"

October 26th, outside the Great Wall.

The army marched across the grasslands for a full twenty-two days.

During those twenty-two days, Huang Taiji experienced countless sleepless nights. He despaired when scouts reported that there was no water ahead. He was furious when some complained about the lack of supplies. He worried when the gale-force winds made it difficult for men and horses to stand.

He was also excited when the mountain shadow finally appeared on the horizon.

That mountain silhouette is the Yanshan Mountains.

Behind the Yanshan Mountains lies the Great Wall.

At this moment, Huang Taiji, mounted on his horse, gazed at the distant gray dragon winding through the towering mountains, and a surge of emotion welled up within him.

Qin Shiming Moon and Han Shiguan, Wanli Long March people have not returned.

Now, he is the man on the Long March, and the emotions he has suppressed for twenty-two days have turned into boundless ambition. At this moment, there are only two words in his mind: the world!

Huang Taiji pointed with his whip: "Look, Jurchen warriors! That's the Great Wall. Beyond the Great Wall lies the Central Plains!"

The 100,000-strong army erupted in cheers.

Huang Taiji loudly ordered: "Divide the troops into three routes—"

"Jirhalang and Yuetuo, lead the right wing to attack Da'ankou!"

"Abatai, Ajige, and Dorgon, lead the left wing and attack Longjing Pass!"

"Daišan and Mangultai, follow me and lead the central army to attack Malanyu!"

"Remember—advance is allowed, retreat is not!"

The three armies, like three black rivers, flowed from the grasslands toward the Yanshan Mountains.

That night, the battle report reached the central command:

Da'an Pass, breached!

Malanyu, breached!

Just as the intelligence indicated, the Ming army was completely unprepared.

The two armies crossed the Great Wall almost without bloodshed and converged in the valley south of the Great Wall.

However, the third army was nowhere to be seen.

What happened?

Huang Taiji grew increasingly anxious as he waited. Had something unexpected happened?