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

The atmosphere in the [Reverse Scale] guild's exclusive encrypted channel was deathly silent.

On the screen, the last message was still from half an hour ago, Wu Jingjing's humiliating report. That phrase, "Failed," was like a cold slap across the face of every member who had fantasized about "riding the coattails of success."

None of the dozens of core members in the channel dared to speak up.

Fear and frustration spread silently. The cold sabers of the two Later Jin cavalrymen shattered their dreams of opportunism. The NPCs in this game don't play by the rules at all.

"Are they all mute?"

Finally, a line of cold text appeared. Sender: Long Shuo.

Wu Jingjing's heart skipped a beat. He could almost picture the chairman's gloomy face on the other side of the screen.

"President...I..." Wu Jingjing's fingers trembled as she typed for a long time, but she didn't know how to explain.

"What do you mean, 'what do you mean, 'what do you mean, 'I'? Did you lose your courage after dying once'?" Long Shuo's words were utterly blunt, carrying a chilling edge.

Immediately, someone in the channel echoed, trying to exonerate Wu Jingjing: "President, this can't be blamed on Brother Chong. Those Tartars are completely unreasonable; they just came up and started chopping people down without letting them say a word."

"Yes, our plan was correct, it's just that the game's AI is too savage."

"Yes, yes, that's it."

Long Shuo ignored these weak excuses. He let these voices linger in the channel for several seconds before typing on the keyboard again.

"Quiet."

Those two words again. The entire channel fell silent instantly.

Long Shuo picked up the now-cold tea on the table and took a sip. The bitter tea slid down his throat, completely calming his slight smugness at Qian Shi's success.

"This failure is my fault."

In the simple command room, Long Shuo's fingers hovered over the keyboard. The faint glow of the screen illuminated his expressionless face. The cold tea slid down his throat and into his stomach, completely subsiding the slight smugness he felt from successfully obtaining Qian Shi into absolute calm.

The words he typed were like a boulder thrown into stagnant water. The dozens of core members in the encrypted channel fell silent instantly. The complaints and fear that had been scrolling through the screen were abruptly frozen, leaving only the blinking cursor, conveying a silent tremor.

Wu Jingjing's eyes widened in disbelief. He was prepared to be severely reprimanded, or even kicked out of the inner circle. But Long Shuo actually took the blame.

"I underestimated the situation." Long Shuo's fingertips tapped lightly on the keyboard, making a rhythmic "tap-tap" sound. His voice echoed in the dead silence of the channel. He showed no emotional fluctuation, like an extremely calm chess player reviewing a lost game.

"We made three fatal mistakes."

"First, the target was chosen incorrectly. Those low-ranking scouts who were sent out to plunder were not messengers at all; they were a pack of mad dogs who only cared about heads and military merits. In their eyes, any living creature wearing Ming army uniforms was a battle achievement hanging around their necks. Expecting them to pass on intelligence was like casting pearls before swine."

"Secondly, the timing was wrong. If a few enemies waving white flags suddenly appeared in the middle of nowhere during a battle, what would you think? You would only think it's a trap. Remember, this is a battlefield, not a negotiating table. Any unsolicited goodwill is a potential threat."

"Third, and most importantly, your posture is wrong." Long Shuo typed these words, his fingertips pausing heavily, making Wu Jingjing shudder. "You all look too much like you're surrendering. You're like a flock of lambs with nowhere to go, kneeling before the butcher begging for your lives. You'll only arouse the butcher's murderous intent, not the general's interest. For a force like the Later Jin that believes in the law of the jungle, the weaker you are, the faster you'll die. They don't want cowardly wagtails; they want valuable allies."

His words were clear, logical, and well-organized.

In the channel, the complaints and fear vanished instantly. In their place came a near-reverent awe.

Wu Jingjing looked at the analysis on the screen, his face burning. He had to admit that every word the chairman said hit the nail on the head. At the time, he was only thinking about sending the letter out as soon as possible, his mind filled with the merits of being a "minister of the rise of the dragon," and he hadn't thought about any of this.

"Then... President, what do we do next? This path is blocked." A member asked cautiously.

Long Shuo switched to a military map he had prepared beforehand. On the map, the marching route of Chu Ze's army was marked by a thick red line. On both sides of the red line, several symbols representing the organizational structure of the Later Jin army were moving.

He drew several circles on the map.

"Can't get through? No. We just knocked on the wrong door."

"Based on the information I found and the analysis of the background of 'Iron-Blooded Jiangshan,' the intelligence transmission of the Later Jin Dynasty relied heavily on a special type of soldier—the scouts. They usually worked in teams of a dozen or so, did not participate in looting, and were specifically responsible for relaying military orders and gathering intelligence between the main force of the army and various banner camps. These were the truly intelligent and discerning individuals."

"Our new target is them." Long Shuo emphasized the moving symbols on the map with his fingertips.

"But... they appear and disappear like ghosts, how are we supposed to find them?" Wu Jingjing asked anxiously.

"Find them? Why should we be the ones to find them?" Long Shuo sneered. "What we need to do is make them come to us."

He zoomed in on the map and drew a huge red circle in a mountainous area about thirty miles to the flank of Chu Ze's army's marching route.

"From now on, your squad will have a new identity. You are no longer traitors who have gone to surrender, but a small logistics unit of the Ming army that has been abandoned by Chu Ze's army, has nowhere to go, and is on the verge of despair."

"You know what 'extortion' means, right?"

"You must have your own 'storyline'." Long Shuo's voice, conveyed through cold words, carried an undeniable magic. "For example, you were auxiliary soldiers responsible for escorting a batch of important supplies, but you were scattered halfway through by Chu Ze's 'heavenly soldiers.' Your leader was killed, the supplies were stolen, and you barely escaped, only to get lost in these deep mountains and forests. You are filled with fear of Chu Ze's unreasonable 'heavenly soldiers' and utterly despair of the Ming Dynasty that abandoned you."

The channel fell silent. Everyone was stunned by Long Shuo's shockingly detailed script.

This is no longer just playing a game; it's directing a play.

"A story alone isn't enough; you have to act convincingly!" Long Shuo issued one order after another. "Wu Jingjing, you immediately take some men to find the NPC veterans in the military camp and learn! Learn how they treat wounds and how they bandage them. I want every one of you to have injuries, and the wounds must look neither new nor old, as if they were caused by blunt force trauma or falls, not by sharp blades! Only then can we prove that you were defeated by your own people!"

"And your armor and weapons, make them all tattered! Go to the blacksmith, burn them, smash them with stones! I want the 'battle damage' marks left after a fierce battle! Your faces should be smeared with mud and ash, your lips chapped, your eyes filled with despair and exhaustion, yet also with a hint of resentment and malice!"

"You must act like a group of truly defeated soldiers, a group of lost souls struggling on the brink of death. Only in this way, when the Later Jin scouts discover you, their first reaction will not be threat, but curiosity! They will want to know what exactly happened to you, this group of defeated soldiers."

Looking at this series of instructions, Wu Jingjing felt a chill run from the soles of her feet straight to the top of her head.

The chairman's scheming has reached such a level of sophistication. He not only outmaneuvered the enemy, but even meticulously planned the expressions and wound locations of his own men.

"But...but how do we get the letter to them?" Wu Jingjing asked the most crucial question.

"No need for a letter." Long Shuo's answer surprised everyone.

"Faith is dead, but people are alive. You are the living testament to their loyalty."

"When they capture you and interrogate you, you must recount everything you saw beneath the walls of Guangning City in the most exaggerated and terrified tone! Remember, emphasize two things: First, the heavenly soldiers are immortal and indestructible, behaving bizarrely; they are ghostly soldiers summoned by Chu Ze using evil magic. Second, Chu Ze is extremely ambitious; he is not here to defend the emperor, but rather to use the opportunity of the defense of the capital to annex various armies, accumulate power, and become emperor himself!"

"At the same time, you must 'casually' reveal that the 'important supplies' you are escorting are actually a generous gift that Chu Ze prepared to give to a certain important figure in the capital, containing detailed troop deployments and firearms blueprints. And this batch of supplies has disappeared without a trace after being seized by the Heavenly Soldiers."

"In this way, you've transformed from a group of ordinary defeated soldiers into 'messengers' carrying a shocking secret. The Later Jin scouts would never dare kill you; they'd treat you like treasures and deliver you intact to Huang Taiji!"

The channel was deathly silent.

After a long silence, someone finally typed out a line with trembling fingers: "President... awesome..."

This is no longer a conspiracy, but a calculated scheme. A scheme woven with countless details, so inscrutable that it is impossible to detect.

Wu Jingjing's breathing became rapid, and his blood boiled again. The humiliation of being killed by those two scouts was completely dispelled by this near-perfect script, replaced by an extreme desire for success.

Long Shuo was very satisfied with this result. He knew that dealing with a hot-blooded young man like Wu Jingjing required more than just threats; he also needed to offer incentives.

"Wu Jingjing," Long Shuo called out individually.

"Here!" Wu Jingjing responded immediately, her tone filled with excitement.

"This mission is a do-or-die situation. It's our only chance, the only chance for the [Rebel] guild. The Ming faction is already overcrowded, with tens of thousands of hardcore players vying for a pitiful amount of merit. But we're going to take a different path, a path to become the protagonist of this version."

"The 'Rise of the Dragon' questline is the game's most exclusive hidden storyline. Once we successfully connect with Huang Taiji, when the Manchus enter the Central Plains, we will be true subjects of the dragon! Titles, fiefdoms, and top-tier equipment that others wouldn't even dare to dream of will be within our grasp!"

"Once this is done, you, Wu Jingjing, will be the vice president of our [Reverse Scale] guild, in charge of PvP. That [Lightning Chaser] weapon in the guild warehouse is yours."

【Swift as the Wind】, a rare spear with exceptional attributes, is a weapon that Wu Jingjing has always dreamed of obtaining.

"Don't worry, President!" Wu Jingjing felt her heart was about to jump out of her throat. "I guarantee I'll complete the mission! No, I'll definitely complete the mission!"

He had been completely brainwashed by the blueprint drawn up by Long Shuo. What was considered betrayal had become, in his view, a wise move of "following the trend of history" and "investing in the future." He even felt that he was carrying out an extremely glorious and great mission.

"Very good." Long Shuo turned off the guild channel, leaned back in the cold chair, and slowly exhaled a breath of stale air.

He picked up the popular science booklet from the late Ming Dynasty on the table, and lightly ran his fingertip over the line "Yuan Chonghuan was executed by slow slicing for treason".

The expression on his face was one of arrogant confidence.

Chu Ze, you are indeed very strong, strong enough to reverse the outcome of a local battle. But in the end, you are just an NPC, a pitiful wretch swept along by the tides of history.

And I, Long Shuo, am the only player who has seen through the course of this game.

What I want to do is not to overturn the chessboard, but to maximize my own interests in this game whose outcome is predetermined.

……

Dark as ink.

To the south of Chu Ze's army's route lay a rugged hilly area.

Wu Jingjing, along with his five loyal brothers, moved like a group of ghosts through the withered forest.

Each of them underwent the most professional "makeup" according to Long Shuo's script.

Wu Jingjing's left arm was haphazardly wrapped in a rag stained with chicken blood and hung in front of his chest. His once brand-new light armor was now pitted and dented from being hit by stones, with charred edges from being burned. His face was covered in mud and ash, his lips were chapped and peeling, and he walked with a hunched back, stumbling along, panting heavily every few steps while leaning against a tree trunk.

Some of his men were lame, using a thick tree branch as a crutch; others had thick strips of cloth wrapped around their foreheads, revealing only a pair of terrified and desperate eyes.

They no longer actively sought any goals. They simply wandered aimlessly through this desolate mountain region, exhausted, hungry, and desperate.

They are waiting.

They were waiting for the Later Jin scouts, whom they considered "prey," to come to them.

What they didn't know was...

Five miles behind them, on a mountain ridge, a figure that blended completely into the darkness lay quietly behind a cold rock.

Hu Yongqiang pressed his ear firmly against the frozen ground, and the thick fog could not block the glint of poison in his eyes.

He heard it.

To the north, in addition to the heavy and slow marching of Chu Ze's army, there was also a faint and extremely chaotic sound of footsteps.

Besides the main force, there was also a strange small force.

In another shadow further away.

Qin Jue remained motionless, like a lurking cheetah. His gaze pierced through the darkness, firmly locking onto the few elusive "desperate soldiers."

What are they doing?

Qin Jue frowned in confusion.

These people did not have the slightest trace of the bloodshed and dejection that real defeated soldiers should have.

They acted very well.

But, it's all just acting.

The mantis catches the cicada, and the oriole is behind.

This foothills of the Yanshan Mountains, shrouded in thick fog, has unknowingly become a shared hunting ground for hunters from three different groups.

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