Who killed the Ming Dynasty?

"His Majesty is here; you must not be rude!"

The argument between the two angered Jiang Yueguang.

His silver beard twitched slightly, and he said in a deep voice:

"In the scorching heat of June, the two generals' 'fiery tempers' only intensify!"

Huang Degong narrowed his eyes to slits and bowed to the throne:

"Your Majesty, please forgive me! This humble general is a crude and uncouth soldier; I've always been like this since I was in Kaifeng with Gao Yaozi."

Before he finished speaking, he had already slapped Gao Jie's shoulder armor.

"We rough men always have to shout a few words before we fight, but when it comes to killing the Tartars, my spine is Brother Gao's shield."

Gao Jie shook off Huang Degong's hand, but then laughed as well:

"Exactly! We old-timers in the camp may talk as bluntly as farting, but our skills in killing are as fine as a needle."

Their laughter collided, short and rough, like two chipped old knives suddenly clashing.

Zhu Cilang rose abruptly, his voice shaking the roof tiles:

"Huang Qing's iron whip shatters armor, Gao Qing's hawk wings cut through the wind; the backbone of these two generals is the Great Wall of the Ming Dynasty."

With a clang, the Emperor's Sword was drawn three inches from its sheath.

"Today I want to see whether the Jurchen's Niru are sharper or the backbone of my Great Ming's General is harder."

Governor-General Lü Daqi, the military governor of the capital, stepped forward and pointed to the map:

"The two generals are commendable for their loyalty and bravery. The disastrous defeat at Songshan in the fifteenth year of Chongzhen was not due to the generals' lack of courage or the soldiers' poor performance, but rather to Hong Chengchou's greed for merit and recklessness, which led him to fall into the trap of the enemy turning the tables."

He cupped his hands in a gesture of respect towards Zhu Cilang.

"Your Majesty is wise. There are many secret collusion agents in Shandong's prefectures and counties, and Fang Dayou, a former official of the Ming Dynasty, is also trying to instigate a rebellion."

"If we advance rashly with light cavalry, we risk repeating the mistakes of Governor-General Hong!"

Zhu Cilang knew that although the Jurchens had few soldiers, they should not be underestimated.

The 30,000 troops accompanying the emperor on this expedition, though nominally the emperor's personal guard, upon closer examination, were only about 50-60% capable of fighting.

Huang Degong's troops had been through many battles and could be considered an iron cavalry; Gao Jie's troops, although brave and skilled in battle, still had not shaken off their bandit habits.

As for those noble sons of the Beijing Garrison, they probably haven't even had their blades sharpened.

He pondered for a moment.

"Minister Lü is well aware of the cunning of the enemy. I have never forgotten the disaster caused by the four-pronged attack at Sarhu."

"Xuzhou is a thousand miles away from Dezhou, and the military situation is unclear. We should not advance rashly."

"Once we reach Shandong, we will decide based on the military situation. Our top priority right now is to advance as quickly as possible."

Having finished speaking, he raised his voice and gave the order:

"A decree is issued to all towns:"

"The vanguard cavalry marched day and night, while the main force of the central army prepared its equipment and supplies."

"We will not withdraw our troops until Texas is captured!"

"Your humble servant obeys!"

Gao Jie, Huang Degong, Lü Daqi, and others agreed in unison.

The generals inside the hall immediately gathered in several concentric circles, discussing military matters in hushed tones.

Zhu Cilang paced to the map, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

He turned abruptly, his gaze fixed on the shadows in the corner:

"Zhu Yun'ao!"

"Your subject is here!"

A figure suddenly sprang up from the shadows.

Zhu Yun'ao, who was wiping the sweat from his forehead, suddenly straightened up.

"I hereby order you to immediately requisition 30,000 fine iron hoes and transport them to Dezhou at once."

All the whispers in the hall stopped abruptly, their gazes fixed on Zhu Yun'ao's suddenly turned expressionless face.

Jiang Yueguang and Lü Daqi quickly exchanged a puzzled look, and Huang Degong's beard twitched almost imperceptibly, both secretly astonished by this inconceivable situation.

Zhu Yun'ao asked cautiously:

"Does Your Majesty intend to build deep trenches and high walls? I can order laborers to bring shovels and picks to accompany the army."

Before he could finish speaking, Jiang Yueguang's silver beard trembled slightly, and he asked in confusion:

"This old minister remembers that the army already has sufficient supplies and tools, so there is no need to requisition hoes from Xuzhou."

"Jiang Qing!"

Zhu Cilang suddenly relaxed his brows, as if he were carrying out a grand plan.

"Once the hoes arrive in Dezhou, I will invite Minister Jiang to the city tower to see what kind of dragon battles and mysteries these 30,000 fine iron hoes can unearth—"

He paused, then suddenly raised his head.

"I want these hoes to grow a million-strong army in Texas!"

Zhu Yun'ao lowered his body and replied in a trembling voice:

"I will take care of it immediately, but the hoe blade needs sharpening..."

"Just follow the regulations for agricultural tools."

Zhu Cilang slightly raised his hand.

"Remember, the money for buying the hoe comes from my private treasury. If any clerk dares to withhold even a single coin—they will make up for it with the missing corner of a person's head."

"My lord, I obey your order!"

Zhu Yun'ao accepted the order, though he had many doubts, he dared not ask any further questions.

Before the last of the incense could be burned out, the imperial boat had already broken through the waves and headed north.

Dragon flags flutter, and the fleet sails in a mighty array, cleaving through the verdant banks.

Meanwhile, Huang Degong's troops and Gao Jie's troops advanced side by side along the land route of the canal.

Soon they arrived in Shandong. Wherever the army went, people along the Grand Canal came to welcome the king's army with food and drink.

An old man with white hair even offered a bowl of turbid wine, his eyes filled with tears, and shouted "The royal army has pacified the north!" His voice was eventually drowned out by the sound of oars, but it made the soldiers on the deck straighten their chests.

At that time, Shandong was indeed in a power vacuum.

The fleet sailed day and night, passing through the four lakes of Weishan, Zhaoyang, Dushan, and Nanyang in one go.

The bow of the boat cleaved through the bluish-gray lake surface, and in the sweltering heat of the sixth day of the sixth lunar month, the boundary marker of Yanzhou Prefecture flashed past the porthole.

However, the boat's speed gradually decreased, stopping and starting intermittently.

Zhu Cilang put down the map in his hand, his heart sinking: Could it be that they have encountered enemy troops?

He turned to the eunuch Han Zanzhou beside him and instructed him:

"Han Daban, quickly go and find out the reason, then invite Jiang Yueguang here!"

Han Zanzhou accepted the order and left.

Before long, Jiang Yueguang, his clothes slick with sweat and the smell of water, rushed into the cabin.

"Your Majesty, after the ship enters Yanzhou Prefecture, the water flows uphill, and the ship travels uphill. It needs to pass through dams and locks, so its progress is slow."

"Is the boat heading up the mountain?"

Zhu Cilang was puzzled.

Jiang Yueguang's lips curled slightly, clearly indicating that he knew this waterway intimately.

"Your Majesty's wisdom has been shown in this inquiry. This section belongs to the Huitong River, and the Nanwang section is elevated, like the spine of the water, hence it is called the 'Water Ridge'."

"The Wenhe River splits here, with seven parts flowing north and three parts flowing south. Boats must pass through locks at each level, like climbing a ladder, hence the saying 'Boating at Nanwang is like climbing to heaven.'"

"Is boarding the ship like climbing to heaven?"

Zhu Cilang's surprise instantly turned into burning curiosity.

"How high is the mountain? Where does the water come from? How long does it take?"

Jiang Yueguang bowed deeply:

"Your Majesty, the Huitong River rises from Nanwanglong, forming a ridge over 35 feet high, which is the vital point of the Grand Canal."

His gaze was distant, as if he were looking back over a hundred years.

"During the Yongle era, when Minister Song Li was in charge of the canal transport, he received a suggestion from the old man Bai Ying. He built a dam to divert water and set up a reservoir to store the flow, which made the Wen River flow westward for seventy miles to facilitate the transport. It can be described as a marvel of ingenuity."

"As for the time it takes to pass through the gate..."

He made a rough estimate,

"Each lock takes about 15 minutes, and the entire journey across the water ridge takes six hours."

Zhu Cilang fell silent, his pupils reflecting the invisible, colossal ridge outside the window—

That majestic water ridge stretched across the landscape like an insurmountable barrier.

The roar of the Wen River flowing westward against the current for seventy miles is a magnificent tribute to the ingenious craftsmanship of humankind.

The fleet continued its slow ascent.

Once a vessel enters the lock chamber, water is injected to gradually raise the water level until it is level with the water level of the next lock level, after which the vessel can continue to move forward.