Who killed the Ming Dynasty?

People on both sides scattered and fled.

The sweet potatoes that rolled out of the bamboo basket were trampled into mud, and the earthenware pot was smashed to pieces in the pushing and shoving, with fragments mixed with mud splashing everywhere.

Zhu Cilang straightened up, his gaze piercing through the chaotic crowd, and saw two rows of Ming soldiers approaching from both sides of the street thirty paces away.

The chainmail gleamed coldly, and although the goose-feather dagger was not yet drawn, the red tassels adorning its scabbard exuded a chilling aura.

Zhu Cilang was all too familiar with the crisp sound of the metal scales rubbing together—

In the late autumn of yesteryear, at the Changping drill ground, the Beijing garrison practiced encirclement tactics, and the same sounds echoed through the night.

This is clearly a defensive formation used to capture prisoners in a fortified city!

Zhu Cilang felt a chill run down his spine.

This formation was specifically designed to suppress bandits and had even boasted of its ability to counter elite cavalry, yet now it was pressing down on unarmed refugees.

This small town had only one street, and the refugees had nowhere to retreat, so they were all blocked and killed by the soldiers in the middle.

Amidst the cacophony of cries,

"Da da da—"

The sound of hooves shattered the bluestone slabs, and three warhorses charged out from behind the right flank of the soldiers' ranks.

The leading officer yanked the reins, and the warhorse reared up with a neigh.

His face was dark, he wore waist-high fish-scale armor, and a black lacquered phoenix-wing helmet. His eagle eyes were sharp and piercing, and his voice was like thunder.

"By order of General Liu, wipe out the bandits and tie them all up!"

Suddenly, a cane was raised in the crowd, and an elderly man with a white beard, hunched over, stepped forward:

"The blue sky and the bright sun are above!"

"We are all refugees from Dezhou, our fields and homes destroyed by war, and we've traveled eight hundred li by gnawing on tree bark!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a lame old man staggered forward and pulled out a yellowed scroll of documents.

He held the document above his head:

"Please have mercy, sir!"

"This is a copy of my family's household registration certificate! The red seal of the Xuzhou prefectural government is still there!"

"It records my family's household registration for three generations. For generations, we have been law-abiding citizens who paid taxes and performed corvée labor, and we have never been involved with bandits!"

"Please, sir, take a look and spare our lives!"

The surrounding refugees also joined in their lamentations:

"Sir, please have mercy and give me a way out!"

"My family has been farmers for generations, paying taxes to the government. How could we be bandits!"

The officer in the fish-scale armor had prominent cheekbones, and his riding whip cracked with a thunderous sound.

"Bandits are cunning and adept at disguising themselves as law-abiding citizens!"

"But I have discerning eyes and will surely see through the disguise; I will not wrong an innocent citizen!"

"Tie him up first!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the soldiers rushed into the crowd, their rifle barrels slamming into the backs of the refugees.

The scabbard was swung wildly, tearing the clothes of the refugees.

More than thirty refugees were tied up like rice dumplings.

Half a clay cake fell out of the lame boy's clothes and was instantly crushed into powder by the military boots.

Zhu Cilang's gaze swept across the area with lightning speed—

Twenty-five spearmen on each of the east and west flanks deployed in a goose-feather formation, with eight light cavalrymen patrolling and providing support.

The words 'Liu Zhen' are faintly visible branded on the soldier's chainmail plates.

A chilling rage gathered in his chest; these swords and spears, meant to defend against enemies, were instead aimed at the people of the Ming Dynasty.

suddenly!

A hunched-over young man suddenly let out a low growl.

His muscles tensed instantly, and he struggled outwards with both arms.

"Boom!"

The hemp rope snapped, and the tattered hemp clothing was torn open by the force.

A soldier nearby reacted quickly and grabbed his shoulder tightly.

The young man, however, shrank back like an eel and slipped out from under the soldier's armpit.

"You corrupt officials! Do you dare to use your swords to kill the Tartars?!"

The roar pierced Zhu Cilang's ears. The government soldiers were afraid of foreign invaders, but they were as brave as tigers when it came to the common people.

A scarred soldier's jawline suddenly twitched:

"You damned bandit, how dare you cause trouble!"

Before the goose-feather saber was even drawn, the three-foot-long spear had already thrust out.

"puff--!"

The spear tip pierced the young man's chest in an instant.

The young body convulsed violently on the gun barrel, his fingers scratching at the blood-stained wooden shaft, his fingernails filled with clay dust.

When Scarface kicked him in the chest, Zhu Cilang clearly heard the crisp sound of ribs breaking.

Blood splattered onto the knees of an old woman who was slumped over seven steps away.

Several young and strong refugees turned red in the neck and swallowed back the angry roar that was about to come out of their mouths;

The limping boy suddenly bent over and began to dry heave.

Zhu Cilang instinctively wanted to step forward, but then remembered that his identity as the crown prince could not be verified, and he stopped himself in his tracks.

"Liu Rutu! The Liu Rutu the old man at the crossroads spoke of is actually Liu Zeqing, the General of Huai'an!"

Just as he was in shock, a lean man carrying a satchel with the character "驿" (post station) on his back suddenly emerged from among the refugees.

Wearing a net over his head, he abruptly pushed aside the approaching gun barrel, pulled a mailbox from his right hand, and held it high:

"My lord, please accept my greetings!"

"I am Song An from Tianjin Post Station, carrying urgent military intelligence delivered over a distance of six hundred li!"

"This is a fire-tallying talisman issued by the Military Commissioner!"

When the courier Song An took out the fire token, Zhu Cilang's pupils contracted slightly.

The edges of the bronze plaque were badly worn, as reported in the Shaanxi Tangbao newspaper three years ago.

At that time, Li Zicheng was still a postman at Yinchuan Post Station, and he wore such a talisman at his waist.

He remembered that the Ministry of War's memorial clearly stated:

With this item, couriers could enter the camp of a military commander directly, and those delivering urgent messages over 800 li could even disrupt the governor's entourage.

The scout took the fire token and rubbed the indented edge with his thumb.

He turned the talisman over, and on the back were engraved the words "Issued in March of the tenth year of Chongzhen".

His Adam's apple bobbed involuntarily twice, and he held the talisman up to the front of the saddle with both hands:

"Commander Wang, this 'Ci-character Jinwei Post Station No. 365 Talisman' was indeed issued by the Tianjin Military Commissioner."

He lowered his voice, and his eye twitched slightly.

"This man is undoubtedly a courier... Now... what should we do with him?"

The chestnut horse suddenly snorted, and beads of sweat from its mane splashed onto the talisman.

Commander Wang's cheekbone twitched twice as he glanced at the young corpse behind him.

He then glanced at the group of bound refugees, as if looking at a pile of troubles waiting to be dealt with.

He responded in a low voice:

"Whether they're post station workers or imperial censors... I'll deal with all of these dozens of people cleanly!"

"If even a single word gets out, our heads will be in danger!"

As he spoke, his left hand remained pressed against the hilt of the knife.

"The 180,000 taels of silver for wages have been allocated to the camp; the brothers are waiting to go back and collect their rewards!"

The sound of the wind and the neighing of horses masked some of the words, but Zhu Cilang managed to catch a glimpse of "180,000 taels of silver in military pay," and his stomach clenched violently.

He realized that this money was intended to be used to reward the group of butchers before him.

In a daze, I felt it was absurd, but I couldn't reveal my identity to stop it.

In the distance, Wang, the battalion commander, swayed in the bumpy ride—

However, this fifth-rank Wude General, with only a hundred soldiers under his command, had the audacity to plunder the national treasury even more rampant than a garrison commander.

The scout, his cheeks clenched so tightly he seemed to have developed sharp edges, replied with a fist salute:

"Understood, sir!"

Having said that, he yanked the reins sharply, and as the horse turned its head, the whip snapped, pointing at Song An.

"You audacious scoundrel! How dare you forge a post station messenger's pass! Guards, tie him up tightly!"

Two soldiers pounced on him, grabbed Song An's arms, and tied him up like a dumpling in the blink of an eye.