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

The report bearing the words "Iron Plow" was gently pressed down by Chu Ze's slender fingers.

The candlelight on the table reflected the enigmatic curve of his face.

What exactly caused the Ming Dynasty to perish?

After arriving in the Ming Dynasty, Chu Ze had been pondering this question.

The Later Jin in Liaodong?

Or were they the Northwest Uprising Army?

Chu Ze felt that neither was the case.

What do you need to fight a war?

I need money!

With rampant corruption and embezzlement in officialdom, the meager tax revenue had to support a large number of parasitic imperial relatives. Where would Chongzhen find the money to maintain his army?

Iron Plow and this group of players brought a glimmer of hope to the Ming Dynasty, which was almost dead.

Productivity determines everything!

With productivity comes food, tools, weapons and armor, and money!

Chu Ze smiled, a very happy smile.

Meanwhile, a hundred miles away in the Later Jin camp, another completely different feast was reaching its climax.

Inside the enormous command tent, the aroma of alcohol mingled with the smoky scent of roasted meat, creating a warm, intoxicating atmosphere. The burly Amin, shirtless, his bronze skin glistening in the light of the tallow candles, held a shivering Han woman in his arms. With his other hand, he gripped a sizzling, oily leg of lamb, tearing off a large chunk and stuffing it into his mouth, chewing with gusto.

fifteen days.

Fifteen days have passed.

In his view, those poor Han dogs in Guangning City were probably starving and gnawing on the mud on the city walls.

"Your Highness! Your strategic brilliance is unparalleled throughout history!"

A sharp voice came from beside his feet. Hu Yongqiang was kneeling on the ground covered with tiger skin. Most of his wounds had healed, and he was now all smiles, holding a wine glass, lowering himself to the lowest position.

"Without losing a single soldier of our Great Jin, we have trapped the stubborn Chu Ze in the city! Such an achievement is enough to make even the Great Khan take notice!"

Amin let out a thunderous laugh, which shook the dust off the tent roof.

He kicked the low table in front of him, spilling food and drinks all over the floor. The Han woman in his arms screamed in fright, but he didn't care at all.

"Achievement? Hahaha! What kind of achievement is this! This is just playing with monkeys!"

Amin threw away the lamb leg bone in his hand, grabbed the wine flask on the table, tilted his head back and gulped it down. The strong liquor flowed down his messy beard and soaked the scars on his chest.

"That Chu Ze thinks he's something special, but in my eyes, he's nothing more than a monkey jumping around in a cage! I let him live, and he lives; I let him die, and he dies!"

The other Later Jin generals in the tent also burst into laughter, their words filled with contempt and disdain for the garrison of Guangning.

"Your Highness is right! A bunch of cowards from the Southern Dynasty dare to fight against the warriors of our Great Jin!"

"I bet people in the city have already started exchanging their own children to eat! Hahahaha!"

As Hu Yongqiang listened to these words, a smile plastered on his face, but a barely perceptible sense of pleasure flashed through his heart. He could almost see how Chu Ze's usually calm and collected face would contort into a ridiculous shape under extreme hunger and despair.

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps came from outside the tent, accompanied by the cry of an eagle.

A Ghoshha, who was in charge of intelligence, strode into the tent, knelt on one knee, and raised a slender bamboo tube high with both hands.

"Report! Your Highness! An urgent message from Guangning!"

The commotion inside the tent instantly subsided.

All eyes were drawn to the small bamboo tube.

Amin snatched the bamboo tube, crushed the wax seal with his thick fingers, and poured out a crumpled strip of cloth.

He unfolded the strip of cloth and, by the light of the candle, read it aloud word by word, his arrogant smile widening across his face.

"Within the city... cannibalism has been discovered..."

He paused deliberately at this point, glancing around at everyone in the tent as if sharing the funniest joke.

"The morale of the army collapsed, and many soldiers wanted to surrender, but Chu Ze forcibly suppressed them all..."

"Hahaha! Suppression? What does he use to suppress? His own bones?" Amin laughed wildly and continued reading.

"Chu Ze himself also gradually went mad, often sitting alone on the city wall until dawn..."

"Crazy! Good! Good riddance!"

Amin suddenly crumpled the strip of cloth into a ball, threw it on the ground, and then stomped on it, grinding it hard.

"I want him to go mad! I want him to watch his soldiers and his people starve to death! I want him to watch his city, which he has so desperately defended, turn into a living hell!"

He reveled in the pleasure of crushing the enemy's spirit and body together; this feeling was even more exhilarating than cutting off a hundred heads on the battlefield.

Hu Yongqiang immediately prostrated himself on the ground, shouting in an almost chanting tone, "The Prince's methods are unpredictable! It's his good fortune to die at the Prince's hands!"

"die?"

Amin's laughter stopped abruptly. He lowered his head, and a cruel light flashed in his small eyes.

"That's too easy on him."

He strolled to the entrance of the main tent, lifted the curtain, and gazed at the distant, silent outline of Guangning City, which seemed to be shrouded in death.

"Pass on my orders!"

He gave the order in a deep voice to the outside of the tent.

"Keep waiting, wait another two weeks!"

Even Hu Yongqiang was taken aback when this order was given.

Half a month? The city has already reached the point of cannibalism, why wait any longer?

Amin seemed to see through everyone's thoughts. He turned around, his face contorted with a ferocious expression, like a cat toying with a mouse.

"I'll make those Han dogs in the city gnaw their bones clean before I open the city gates!"

"In half a month, I want to see Chu Ze crawl out of the city, kneel on the ground, and lick the hooves of my warhorse!"

These words caused all the Later Jin generals in the tent to gasp in shock.

They looked at Amin with a feeling that was no longer one of awe, but rather one of deep-seated fear.

This second prince's cruelty has reached an appalling level.

But after the fear subsided, there was an even more frenzied echoing and praise.

Under Amin's leadership, a strange mix of lethargy and revelry quickly spread throughout the Later Jin camp.

Victory is within reach; it's only a matter of time.

The generals no longer cared about city defense and training; instead, they spent their days drinking, gambling, and sharing the wealth and women they had plundered from within the pass.

The lower-ranking soldiers also became lazy, their weapons were carelessly discarded in corners, and they didn't bother to clean their armor. They lay in groups of three or five on the grass, basking in the sun and discussing how much spoils they would get after entering the city.

The entire camp was immersed in a false atmosphere of victory, and corruption spread rapidly from top to bottom.

They firmly believed that Guangning City was already a corpse stuck on a chopping board, just waiting for it to rot and stink on its own.

However, in this camp filled with singing, dancing, and the smell of alcohol, there was only one corner that was cold.

On the edge of the camp, inside an inconspicuous black tent.

An old man dressed in shamanic attire, with strange paint on his face, was kneeling on the ground.

In the brazier in front of him, a huge tortoise shell was burning red-hot, making a soft "crackling" sound.

He muttered incantations, his withered fingers drawing symbols in the air that no one could understand.

suddenly.

"Click—"

A crisp cracking sound.

Without warning, a crack appeared in the middle of the red-hot tortoise shell.

The shaman's incantation came to an abrupt halt.

He moved closer and, by the firelight, stared intently at the crack.

The crack was long, thin, and straight, displaying an ominous, blood-red pattern.

The direction it pointed was none other than Guangning City.

A bone-chilling cold instantly shot from the shaman's tailbone to the top of his head.

Great omen!

He felt a sharp, intense heartbeat, and almost couldn't breathe.

He wanted to rush out and report to Amin Beile, who was celebrating wildly.

However, the unrestrained laughter coming from the distant command tent made him unable to move.

The shaman slumped to the ground, covered in cold sweat. He stared at the cracked tortoise shell, feeling as if the blood-red crack had transformed into a venomous snake, its tongue slowly flicking out at him.