Who killed the Ming Dynasty?

The "Lumi Cannon" that Zuo Maodi referred to was a firearm designed by Zhao Shizhen, a firearms expert during the Wanli era.

One of its most distinctive features is that a fine steel blade is embedded in the butt of the stock via a mechanism.

When the gunpowder and lead bullets are exhausted, or when enemy cavalry charges rapidly to close range...

Gunners can instantly reverse the gun barrel, turning the firearm into a horse-slaying saber, and immediately engage in close-quarters combat.

However, the new "divine machine gun" supervised by Zhu Cilang explicitly abandoned the old system of "combining gun and sword".

On the training ground, the young emperor's gaze swept over the assembled officials, and he immediately posed the core question:

"Do any of you gentlemen have a good plan to both preserve the advantage of the musketeers' long-range attacks and guard against the danger of enemy cavalry charging into the enemy lines?"

Zuo Maodi flicked his sleeves and bowed in response:

"Your Majesty, if we follow the old system and conceal a fine steel short blade within the stock of the new musket, which can be sheathed for protection during normal times and drawn out when facing an enemy, wouldn't that be a wonderful example of 'combining long and short blades'?"

Upon hearing this, the Ministry of Works officials exchanged quick glances, silently conveying their opinions, and then nodded in agreement.

Zhu Cilang's brow crease was pressed into his eyebrows:

"The short blade of the musket is only a little over a foot long; how can it withstand the heavy armor of the Tartars?"

In his view, the short blade had very limited use in actual combat.

He then abruptly changed the subject, proposing a completely different solution:

"The musketeers should be equipped with seven-inch goose-feather sabers, with a blade length of four feet three inches and a weight of six pounds, capable of cleaving through three layers of iron armor."

He raised his robe sleeves, and the wind seemed to blow through them.

"When encountering an enemy within ten paces, discard your gun and draw your sword; this is called 'sacrificing your weapon to save your life.'"

"A seven-foot-tall man wielding a three-foot-long blade, combined with infantry in a coordinated attack, is he not far superior to a short-bladed musket?"

Zuo Maodi frowned, a look of worry on his face:

"Your Majesty, this gun was crafted by artisans through countless hammer blows, and each one cost more than eight taels of silver."

"To abandon them in the face of battle is like throwing away a thousand pieces of gold and jade on the road; it is not the way to enrich the country and strengthen the army."

He took a deep breath and said solemnly.

"Weapons are the foundation of warfare; the proper measure in this matter rests with Your Majesty!"

Zuo Maodi was calculating economic benefits, Zhu Cilang explained to Zuo Maodi:

"Sun Bin's strategy of reducing the number of cooking fires and Han Xin's strategy of facing the river with his back to the enemy are both examples of 'sacrificing a pawn to gain the upper hand.' Temporarily setting aside the muskets is not abandoning them, but rather using retreat as a means of advancement."

He turned around abruptly.

"To prejudge gains and losses before the outcome is decided—isn't that putting the cart before the horse?"

The sound pounded on everyone's eardrums:

"What I want are living gunners, not corpses clutching their muskets."

The ministers all shuddered, and an invisible chill suddenly swept across the training ground.

Zuo Maodi staggered half a step, lifted his robe, and attempted to kneel and present his memorial:

"Your Majesty is wise and insightful, while I am foolish and dull. I only know how to cherish utensils, but I do not know how to cherish people."

"Now we know that 100,000 living soldiers are better than a million cannons."

"I have always known that Minister Zuo is loyal and diligent in serving the country."

Zhu Cilang stepped forward, his palm firmly supporting the elbow, preventing him from kneeling.

"Soldiers are the lifeblood of a nation. If we have 100,000 elite soldiers, why worry about losing our firearms?"

Upon hearing this, the ministers' tense shoulders subtly relaxed, and a hint of awe appeared in their eyes.

At that very moment—

Clang!

A slight metallic clanging sound suddenly came from the west side of the drill ground.

Zhu Cilang turned his head and looked over. There were several blurry, swaying figures on the west side of the drill ground.

"BOOM!!!"

A deafening roar, like a muffled thunderclap, suddenly erupted from the west side.

The ground trembled slightly, and a shockwave carrying sand and gravel rushed towards us.

Zhu Cilang's dragon robe was billowed by the shockwave, but remained completely still; a cold glint flashed in his eyes.

"Who has used firearms without authorization?"

The color drained from Gao Zhuo's face instantly, and his lips trembled.

"Your Majesty... Your Majesty is guilty! It must be the 'Thunderbolt from the Ground' in the treasury..."

The pungent smell of sulfur and gunpowder filled the air, making people cough.

As the smoke cleared, three figures, covered in soot and wearing tattered official robes, tumbled and crawled out of the smoke.

The elderly man at the head of the group had a scorched and curly beard and hair, and his face was covered in soot, but he didn't care about his own disheveled appearance. He tightly hugged half of the charred remains in his arms.

It was Chen Zilong, the chief clerk of the Department of Military Affairs of the Ministry of War.

He staggered forward, raising the piece of wreckage high:

"Your Majesty! I...I deserve to die a thousand deaths! I was just rehearsing the 'Thunderbolt from the Ground' in the reservoir area..."

He coughed violently a few times.

"Who knew that this 'King Yama Cannon,' due to its age and rust, would be accidentally triggered and detonate. Disturbing the imperial procession is a grave offense!"

Zhu Cilang's gaze fell on the charred remains, and he calmly asked:

What is this item called in the military?

Chen Zilong's voice was hoarse, tinged with lingering fear:

"The soldiers all shouted... Yama's Cannon."

He composed himself and then reported:

These landmines, buried underground (voluntary mines), have an outer shell made of cast iron and are filled with gunpowder.

Once the enemy steps on the trigger, a spark will ignite the gunpowder.

The metal shell shattered instantly, scattering fragments everywhere, its power covering an area of ​​several meters.

The Nanjing arsenal still contains a large number of these "ground-lying, sky-piercing bombs".

Zhu Cilang's eyes grew even colder, puzzled:

"If it's called the 'King Yama's Cannon,' it should be able to intimidate the enemy. Why is it stored away in a rusty warehouse instead of being sent to the border?"

Chen Zilong, the chief clerk of the Bureau of Personnel Management, knelt down and explained the reason:

"Your Majesty, please allow me to say that although this item is advantageous, it has many drawbacks and is hardly suitable for major use."

Zhu Cilang frowned deeply:

"Explain in detail."

Chen Zilong held up three fingers, blackened by the smoke, and began to list them off one by one:

Firstly, the mechanism malfunctions and corrodes during the rainy season, and the fire door becomes blocked by ice during winter frost, making the fuse difficult to ignite when damp.

Secondly, the triggering was delayed, and the mines were often detonated only after the enemy cavalry had already passed the area, making the minefields a "afterthought."

Thirdly, and most dangerously, this thunder cannot distinguish between friend and foe.

Accidents frequently occur, resulting in the injury of infantrymen rushing to the aid of the troops, or even innocent civilians being accidentally injured.

The Ordnance Bureau ambassador, kneeling to the side, added in a trembling voice:

"Last year, the Ministry of Works ordered each garrison to distribute 100 rounds, and 90% of them are still stored in the warehouse."

"Zhou Yuji, the former garrison commander of Datong, bluntly stated that he would rather fight with a three-barreled gun than touch this soul-snatching iron watermelon."

Zhu Cilang lightly tapped the thunder shell with his fingernail, already understanding its meaning—

The name "King Yama's Cannon" likely stems from the fact that it injures the user more than the enemy.

"Such inferior equipment is a waste of iron."

......

Qianqing Palace.

The dim, yellowish light flickered, creating an inexplicably oppressive atmosphere.

At 7:45 PM, Zhu Cilang was having his meal, with a faint wisp of steam rising from the rim of his bowl.

Suddenly—

"Your Majesty, an urgent dispatch from Dezhou!"

A sharp shout pierced the silence.

The eunuch Han Zanzhou practically tumbled into the palace gate, his official hat askew, his face deathly pale, and his lips trembling.

He held a bright yellow memorial in his hands, and on one corner of the scroll were a few dark red stains.

Zhu Cilang's brows furrowed suddenly.

He snatched the memorial from his hand; in the candlelight, each word was like blood:

Your humble servants, Censors Lu Shijue and Zhao Jiding of Dezhou, and Lieutenant General Zhu Shuaiqin, kneel and weep with blood as they present this memorial:

The Jurchen's sword has already been drawn towards Dezhou.

When the shaving order was issued, those who defied it stained the streets with blood, and even the cries of infants ceased.

Although the banner of righteous indignation was raised in Texas, the rebel forces were overwhelming...

The tattered battle flag bearing the character "Ming" on the city wall still flutters and roars in the bloody wind.

If the king's army does not arrive within ten days, the loyal bones of the entire city will be reduced to dust.

We, your humble servants, swear that even in our ruined state, we shall perish with this banner!

Zhu Cilang's heart tightened; this was a desperate plea for help from Dezhou.