Late Ming Dynasty: Summoning players from Liaodong to support the Ming Dynasty

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The chaotic sound of horses' hooves shattered the frozen soil of the Yanshan Mountains.

A cold wind, mixed with ice shards, lashed against Wu Jingjing's bare back.

He was tied horizontally to the horse's back.

The rope wrapped around his neck and waist, digging tightly into his flesh.

With each jolt, the hemp rope would embed itself half an inch deeper into the flesh, drawing out blood that would then freeze into an ice shell in the cold wind.

With each rise and fall of the horse's hooves, Wu Jingjing's spine creaked.

The stomach sac rested against the raised hardwood of the saddle.

My intestines were tangled up and my internal organs were churning, and acidic fluid surged up my throat, burning my esophagus.

His mouth was stuffed with a rag that smelled of mutton, and all the vomit was stuck in his mouth and sprayed out through his nose.

A feeling of suffocation washed over me.

The ripped underwear was already soaked in mud and blood, and after freezing, it was repeatedly rubbed against the cracked skin at the base of the thighs.

Several of the brothers riding horses nearby were also tied up, their heads drooping as they swayed with the horses' gait, their fate unknown.

100% pain feedback.

This option, designed to create a sense of realism, has now become a living hell.

The pain of tearing flesh and the chill that seeps into the bone marrow, coupled with the soreness from the compression of internal organs, bombard the cerebral cortex from all sides.

Wu Jingjing's eyes bulged out and were bloodshot, and a hoarse sob came from his throat.

The physical torment was secondary.

What truly broke him was the mental torment.

Live specimen.

These four words echoed repeatedly in his mind, making his very soul tremble.

He knew all too well the weight of those four words.

These savage NPCs don't play by the rules at all.

They didn't treat him as a defeated soldier who had surrendered, nor as a spy who was sending false information.

He was directly labeled as an immortal monster created by Chu Ze using demonic magic.

They must be escorted back to the capital's main camp.

It should be handed over to the shaman priest for study.

The forums have already explained what kind of people the shamans in this game are like.

They skinned people alive, extracted their hearts and livers while they were still alive, and used poisonous insects to gnaw on their bone marrow.

Those shamans are capable of using any kind of perverse methods.

The image of him soaring into the sky amidst the wind and the sinister face of Hu Yongqiang flashed alternately before my eyes.

Live specimen.

slice.

Shaman.

These words cut into his fragile nerves, one cut at a time.

He even began to fantasize about what tools the shamans would use to pry open his skull and what insects would burrow into his veins.

Once someone is sent into the shaman's tent, they will be tormented to the point of wishing for death.

Dying here only results in dropping one level.

However, if an NPC determines that the character is a special living entity, the system will forcibly lock the character's status, preventing them from logging off or committing suicide.

Unless the account is deleted.

But he couldn't bear to part with the character he had practiced for over half a month, and even more so with the promise of that lightning-fast spear.

Greed and fear were wrestling wildly in my mind.

The line suddenly stopped.

A half-frozen stream lies ahead.

Turgh's rough voice boomed in the night wind.

"Stop! Water the horses! Give these survivors some water, don't let them die of thirst."

Dozens of soldiers from the Plain Yellow Banner dismounted and led their mounts toward the stream.

The Later Jin soldiers guarding Wu Jingjing also walked away cursing and went to the stream to break holes in the ice.

opportunity.

Wu Jingjing gritted her teeth, enduring the excruciating pain of her churning internal organs, and concentrated all her thoughts.

The player system panel is brought up.

A translucent, pale blue light curtain unfolded in front of the retina.

This light screen is only visible to the player; to the NPCs nearby, Wu Jingjing just appears to be twitching and rolling his eyes.

Mind lock.

Guild Channel.

Reverse scale.

Encrypted private chat list.

Find the ID "Descendant of the Dragon" that wears a golden dragon head.

The cold wind, carrying shards of ice, lashed against Wu Jingjing's bare skin.

He clenched his teeth tightly, forcibly suppressing the excruciating pain in his stomach and the acid in his throat.

His bloodshot eyes were fixed on the dark blue light screen in front of his retina, a screen visible only to him.

Thoughts manifest as invisible fingers striking the virtual keyboard.

Extreme panic and physical torture brought his consciousness to the brink of collapse.

The characters typed were riddled with errors, punctuation marks flew everywhere, and every word and sentence was an accusation.

"Long Shuo, I'll fuck your grandpa."

The first sentence, filled with grief and indignation, was hurled directly into the encrypted private chat box.

At this moment, Wu Jingjing wished she could rub Long Shuo's face into the stinking horse manure.

"The script is completely ruined, completely ruined."

"These Tartars are out of their minds; they won't listen to me at all."

"I shouted that I wanted to be a traitor, I shouted that I love the Great Jin Kingdom, but the NPC named Hu Yongqiang said that I was acting."

"He said I was a spy sent by Chu Ze to deliver false information."

The cold wind howled through the empty valley, and the torches held by the soldiers of the Plain Yellow Banner illuminated the ice surface, making it flicker.

Wu Jingjing's body convulsed violently as his mount snorted, and the rope sank deeper into his flesh once more.

He widened his eyes and continued typing.

When Wu Jingjing typed out the words "live sample," she almost clenched her molars to pieces, and blood seeped into the rag stuffed in her mouth.

"A live specimen, it's going to be sliced ​​for research."

"The shaman is going to skin us alive!"

"Guild Master, help! This stupid quest is impossible to complete!"

"I've set my pain receptors to 100%, or I'm going to go crazy."

"Find a way to kill me, or send someone to rob me."

"Otherwise, I'll have to delete my account; I really can't take it anymore."

As Wu Jingjing typed the last exclamation mark, he felt all the strength drain from his body in an instant.

He closed his eyes in despair, two lines of turbid tears squeezing out from the corners of his eyes.

The tears froze into two streaks on her bluish-purple cheeks as soon as they welled up.

send.

The pale blue light screen flickered slightly, and the data stream carrying his last hope for survival disappeared into the darkness.

This private message, filled with blood, tears, and numerous typos, crossed boundaries and went straight to Long Shuo's private chat box.

Wu Jingjing was unsure how Long Shuo would react upon seeing the letter.

He didn't care anymore.

The Mind Collapse system panel shut down instantly.

The harsh winds of reality swept over him again, making him shiver violently.

The sound of horses' hooves.

Hu Yongqiang walked slowly over, stepping on the broken ice.

The glow of the pine torches cast shadows on Hu Yongqiang's fair skin, the interplay of light and shadow revealing his undisguised greed and fanaticism.

Hu Yongqiang stared at Wu Jingjing, who was lying on the back of the horse, barely alive.

These are hardly a few half-dead Ming auxiliary soldiers.

These are all the roads leading to wealth and prosperity.

With the Jin Dynasty about to enter the pass, Huang Taiji, a man of great talent and ambition, was wary of Chu Ze's heavenly army that had appeared out of nowhere.

The Manchu Eight Banners suffered a crushing defeat at the Battle of Guangning, resulting in heavy losses and a significant drop in morale.

It's all because of these monsters that can't be killed or eradicated.

Now I've got them alive.

As long as these prisoners are handed over to the Khan intact, the shaman priests can devise a way to break the magic of immortality.

The Jin cavalry will surely be able to completely crush Liaodong and strike at the heart of the enemy.

By then, I, a Han Chinese bondservant, will surely be able to turn my life around completely, and I might even be granted a title of nobility, a high-ranking official, or even a king of a different surname.

Hu Yongqiang took a deep breath to suppress his overwhelming joy.

The premise is that these precious little ones absolutely cannot die on the way.

Although these monsters can transform into light and ascend to heaven, it is only after they have suffered fatal injuries.

If they weren't fatally injured but simply suffered from cold and hunger, would they also turn into light and run away?

Hu Yongqiang would never dare to gamble away such immense wealth.

If these monsters, which can transform into white light and ascend to heaven, were to freeze to death halfway through their journey, his dream of becoming a high-ranking official would be completely shattered.

His thin fingers quickly reached into his robes and pulled out a small celadon bottle from his chest.

Use your thumb to forcefully pry open the tightly sealed cork.

With a muffled pop, a pungent herbal aroma filled the air.

This is a secret life-saving medicine made by the Manchurian army, containing ginseng that can prolong life and several potent and dangerous medicines.

As long as a living person has the last breath of warmth in their chest, this medicine can pull their soul back from the clutches of the King of Hell.

Such precious items were normally only carried by Manchu generals of the rank of Bayara or above.

Hu Yongqiang strode over the crunching ice to the horse's belly.

He suddenly reached out with his left hand and grabbed Wu Jingjing's muddy, messy hair tightly.

With a sudden burst of strength, he forcefully pulled Wu Jingjing's drooping head back.

Wu Jingjing felt a sharp pain in her scalp, her neck was pulled straight up, and she was forced to look up at her tear-streaked face.

By the flickering firelight, he stared intently at the small celadon bottle in Hu Yongqiang's hand.

"My lord, please, just give me a quick death!"

Wu Jingjing's lips trembled violently, and tears mixed with snot streamed down her face and dripped down her chin.

He forced out a hoarse plea, each word filled with despair.

Hu Yongqiang let out a cold laugh, his shrill voice scraping harshly in the wind and snow.

"Die!" Hu Yongqiang's eyes flashed with a sinister cold light. "That little beast Chu Ze went to great lengths to deliver you bunch of precious darlings into my hands. How could I bear to let you die?"

Before he finished speaking, his thin, bony hand suddenly slid down Wu Jingjing's cheek.

With his five fingers clamping tightly onto Wu Jingjing's jawbone, he suddenly pushed his wrist down and dislocated it.

The crisp cracking sound of bones dislocating was particularly clear in the night wind.

Wu Jingjing's jaw dislocated instantly, forcing his mouth to open wide.

Saliva mixed with blood gushed from the corners of his mouth, making it impossible for him to close it.

Hu Yongqiang tilted the small porcelain bottle with his right hand and aimed the black medicine inside, which emitted a pungent smell, at Wu Jingjing's wide-open mouth.

He poured it all in at once.

The medicine slid down my throat, the burning sensation almost as intense as swallowing scalding hot charcoal.

Spicy, bitter, and scalding hot.

The potent medicinal power exploded instantly in Wu Jingjing's frozen stomach.

The heart, which was about to stop beating due to the extreme cold, began to pump blood in the chest cavity after being stimulated by this powerful drug.

A wave of heat surged through his limbs and bones.

The pain receptors were amplified by the drug's effects.

The pain in my groin and the marks on my chest became sharper and clearer, piercing straight to my cerebral cortex.

Hu Yongqiang held Wu Jingjing's dislocated jaw with his left hand and slammed his palm together with his palm facing upwards.

A snap.

The chin was forcibly repositioned.

Wu Jingjing was forced to swallow the mouthful of spicy medicine, and the strong irritation made him cough violently.

His chest heaved violently, and large clumps of dark red blood spurted from his mouth, splashing onto the horse's mane.

"Cough cough cough, what did you give me to drink?"

Wu Jingjing stared wide-eyed in horror, her eyeballs bulging and bloodshot.

He stared in despair at the pale blue light that popped up in front of his retina.

The health bar, which had been almost depleted, suddenly stopped decreasing and even began to slowly recover at a steady pace.

The system notification sounded in his mind, completely shattering his last glimmer of hope.

Ding! You have been affected by an unknown drug, increasing your health recovery rate by 20%.

You are in a state of forced survival, in which you cannot die by conventional means such as hunger or cold.

Wu Jingjing's psychological defenses completely collapsed at this moment, and her rationality was torn to shreds.

They won't even let you die.

Even the most desperate escape routes of starving to death or freezing to death were completely blocked by these barbaric NPCs with a bowl of medicinal soup.

These Tartars went to extreme lengths to preserve him as a living specimen.

Hu Yongqiang suddenly raised his thin hand and slapped Wu Jingjing's bruised cheek hard with his muddy fingertips.

It makes a crisp popping sound.

His fair skin twisted into a sinister smile in the flickering firelight, his eyes gleaming with fanaticism and greed.

"This is the finest Liaodong ginseng tonic," Hu Yongqiang's voice boomed in the howling north wind, "Even if I have to go bankrupt and risk my life, I will make sure your life is preserved intact before the Great Khan."

He suddenly moved closer to Wu Jingjing, his foul-smelling breath hitting Wu Jingjing's face.

He squeezed out chilling words through gritted teeth.

"You don't even have the right to die until the shaman priests of the Great Jin Kingdom personally pry open your skull and scoop out your brains."

After saying that, Hu Yongqiang suddenly straightened up and shoved Wu Jingjing's head away.

He turned to face the Manchu soldiers watering their horses by the stream and roared at the top of his lungs.

"Stop dawdling, all of you! Light up the torches, mount your horses, and travel through the night!"

Turgh's massive body strode from the stream, his heavy leather boots shattering the ice on the ground.

He roughly pulled on the reins of his warhorse and slapped the horse's rump hard.

He flipped himself onto the horse's back, his strong legs firmly gripping the horse's belly.

The warhorse, in pain, reared up and let out a long neigh.

Dozens of elite soldiers from the Plain Yellow Banner mounted their horses in unison, their movements swift and decisive.

The heavy hooves pounded the frozen soil and remnants of ice in the foothills of the Yanshan Mountains, and the thunderous sound of hooves instantly tore apart the deathly silence of the valley.

A violent north wind whipped up a blizzard of snowflakes and ice shards, pelting the cavalry that had been galloping through the night.

Wu Jingjing was tightly bound to the swaying horse, the rough hemp rope digging into her flesh once more.

He could only close his eyes in despair, letting his tears quickly freeze into icicles on his purplish cheeks.

With each leap of the warhorse, it plunged into an endless abyss of darkness.

The drug's effects surged through his body, keeping him conscious and allowing him to clearly feel the excruciating pain from each jolt.

This is ten thousand times more vicious than the most potent poison.

His only hope now is that Long Shuo can see that private message and quickly find a way to save him.

Even sending a few assassins to kill him would be fine.

Whatever you do, don't let yourself be handed over to that shaman priest.

Absolutely not.