Chief Armaments Master of the Ming Dynasty

In the fifth month of the third year of Chongzhen's reign, in Yan'an Prefecture.

The Yansui Governor's Office was located in the center of the prefectural city. It was originally the seat of Yansui Town, one of the nine important border towns of the Ming Dynasty. Later, the governor was given the additional title of military commander and was in charge of the military affairs of Yan'an, Qingyang and Pingliang prefectures. This office became the central hub of military and political affairs in northern Shaanxi.

Hong Chengchou sat in a grand chair in the second hall, with a map spread out in front of him.

The map marks the mountains, cities, roads, and activity areas of various "bandits" in northern Shaanxi—Wang Jiayin occupied Fugu, Li Zicheng occupied Ziwu Ridge, Shen Yikui was in Liushujian, and there were dozens of other groups of varying sizes, scattered like lice throughout the mountains and ravines of northern Shaanxi.

"Commander, Cao Wenzhao has arrived," his staff member, Mr. Zhao, announced as he entered.

Hong Chengchou raised his head.

Cao Wenzhao strode into the second hall.

He was in his prime, and thirty-five years had built up a physique as imposing as a mountain, making him stand like a sturdy iron tower.

He was from Datong, rose through the ranks of the military, and accumulated merits to become the deputy commander of Yansui Town. He was Hong Chengchou's sharpest blade.

"This humble general pays his respects to the Commander-in-Chief." Cao Wenzhao clasped his hands in a salute, his armor clanging.

"Sit down," Hong Chengchou said, pointing to the chair next to him.

Cao Wenzhao sat down, his gaze already fixed on the map. "The commander summoned me; is it to wage war against Wang Jiayin?"

"No rush." ​​Hong Chengchou waved his hand, stood up, and walked to the map. "Wen Zhao, let me ask you, of Wang Jiayin, Li Zicheng, and Shen Yikui, who do you think is the most difficult to deal with?"

Without hesitation, Cao Wenzhao replied, "Li Zicheng."

Why?

"Although Wang Jiayin has a large and powerful army, his retreat from Yichuan and Yanchang all the way north, finally retreating to the isolated city of Fugu, shows his poor military strategy. Fugu is bordered by the Yellow River to the north and Jiazhou to the south; once besieged, it will be cut off from external support and become a death trap. Shen Yikui has less than a thousand men, and although he has established a foothold in Liushujian, he is ultimately just a minor ailment. Only Li Zicheng," Cao Wenzhao paused, "is a cunning and unpredictable commander who never stays in one city for long. He has been building up his defenses at Ziwu Ridge for a long time, and he also has a craftsman surnamed Lin who makes cannons and forges steel for him, so his strength is increasing day by day. If he is not eliminated soon, he will become a major threat."

Hong Chengchou nodded slightly. "You're right. But precisely because Li Zicheng is the most difficult to deal with, I will put him last."

Cao Wenzhao's eyes flashed. "The commander-in-chief means..."

"First clip its wings, then sever its arms, and finally rip out its heart." Hong Chengchou pointed to several points on the map with a thin wooden stick. "Fugu is Wang Jiayin's lair and also the banner of the Shaanxi bandits. If this banner falls, the other smaller groups will surrender at the mere sight of it. Therefore, the first one to be attacked is Wang Jiayin."

His wooden stick moved towards Fugu.

"Wang Jiayin seized Fugu, opened the granaries to distribute grain, and the people's hearts were won over. Now his army has swelled to nearly ten thousand men. But he made two fatal mistakes. First, he gathered his troops into the city. The reason why bandits are difficult to suppress is because they are elusive and will run away if they can't win. Once they enter the city, they become sitting ducks."

"When does the Commander-in-Chief plan to make his move?" Cao Wenzhao asked.

"We haven't prepared the supplies yet, so let's not move for now." Hong Chengchou moved his wooden stick toward Willow Tree Stream. "But before we move against Wang Jiayin, we must first remove the thorns on the flank."

Cao Wenzhao nodded.

He knew that the "nail" Hong Chengchou was referring to was Shen Yikui. Although Shen Yikui had fewer than a thousand men, most of them were from the border army and were formidable fighters. If Hong Chengchou's main force besieged Fugu, Shen Yikui's flank attack on the supply lines would be a fatal problem.

"Commander, allow me to remove this thorn," Cao Wenzhao said, clasping his hands in a fist salute.

Hong Chengchou glanced at him. "Shen Yikui also came from the border army. You and he were comrades."

Cao Wenzhao was silent for a moment, then said, "I am a soldier who eats the emperor's food and should be loyal to him. He is a traitor, and I am a soldier. The bond between comrades is long gone."

Hong Chengchou nodded. "Good. I will give you two thousand cavalrymen. March day and night and launch a surprise attack on Willow Tree Ravine. Remember, Shen Yikui is the most popular man among the troops; the starving people who have surrendered all regard him as their savior. If he surrenders, he will not be killed. If he does not..."

He didn't continue.

Cao Wenzhao clasped his hands in a fist and said, "This subordinate understands."

Hong Chengchou's wooden stick was eventually moved towards Ziwu Ridge.

"Whether it's Wang Jiayin or Shen Yikui, the one I worry about most is Li Zicheng. The scouts I sent have returned. In the past six months, he has produced quite a few cannons at Ziwu Ridge, and the new army has been trained to a respectable standard. That craftsman surnamed Lin, named Lin Fan, is said to have escaped from Wang Ziyong's side and has been loyal to Li Zicheng ever since. It was this man who smelted steel, made cannons, and even got Li Zicheng to plant sweet potatoes at Ziwu Ridge."

He paused, then drew a circle with his finger in the valley of Ziwu Ridge.

"Ziwu Ridge is easy to defend but difficult to attack. Li Zicheng is holed up inside, and it would take the government troops at least 20,000 men to break through from the front."

Zhao's advisor chimed in, "Is the commander-in-chief's strategy to disintegrate from within?"

"Exactly. Ziwu Ridge may seem like an impenetrable fortress, but it has cracks within. I've heard that Li Zicheng has an old general named Liu Zongmin who served him with great merit, but now, for some reason, the two have developed a rift. Last time, I sent someone to deliberately leak some 'information' to Li Zicheng, making him realize that something was amiss with that man. If he's going to suspect someone, who can he suspect? Suspecting the enemy outside is useless; he can only suspect the people around him. Once he becomes suspicious, the cracks will appear. Once he gets angry, he'll make a mistake."

He gazed at Ziwu Ridge, his eyes deep and unfathomable.

"Li Zicheng and Wang Jiayin are two tigers. What I need to do is not to fight both tigers at the same time. I need to make them suspicious and wary of each other first. Then, I will remove the nails, break the flagpole, and finally deal with the most troublesome tiger."

He turned to Cao Wenzhao and said, "Wenzhao, return to camp immediately and prepare for battle. Before the fifteenth of May, I want to see Shen Yikui of Willow Tree Ravine—either surrender or die."

"Your subordinate obeys!" Cao Wenzhao clasped his hands in a fist salute, turned around, and strode away.

Hong Chengchou sat back down in his armchair, gazing at the letter that Li Zicheng had sent back.

The letter was written by Gu Jun'en, and its language was polite but neither servile nor arrogant: "The mountains are high and the roads are long, so the Commander-in-Chief need not send any more messengers. If the Commander-in-Chief is willing, Li Zicheng will surely welcome you back on the battlefield in the future."

A slight smirk appeared on his lips.

Li Zicheng, do you think that just because you're hiding in the Ziwu Ridge, I can't do anything to you?

You don't know yet, but the game has already begun.

---

The eighth day of the fifth lunar month, in Fugu.

Wang Jiayin is reading a letter from Shanxi.

The letter was written by Wang Zishun. In essence, he and Miao Mei had already occupied Yonghe and Hongdong, and their forces had grown to nearly 10,000 people. He asked Wang Jiayin to rest assured.

Just as he was considering how to reply, Wang Ziyong rushed in, his face covered in sweat.

"Brother! Shen Yi Kui's men have sent an urgent report!" Wang Ziyong lowered his voice, but couldn't suppress his excitement. "Hong Chengchou is about to make his move!"

Wang Jiayin's hand paused. He put down the letter, raised his head, and his gaze was terrifyingly calm. "Speak."

"Hong Chengchou dispatched Cao Wenzhao with two thousand elite cavalry, who set off from Yan'an Prefecture five days ago, traveling day and night towards Liushujian. Judging by the journey, they should arrive in one or two days."

Wang Ziyong's voice was like muffled thunder, "Shen Yikui sent someone to ask for help, saying that once Willow Tree Ravine is breached, the northern flank of Fugu will be unprotected. We'll be next."

Wang Jiayin stood up and walked to the map.

His fingers traced a path from Fugu northward, across Shenmu, and landed in Liushujian.

It was a tiny village, located in the north of Bao'an County, right next to the Great Wall.

Shen Yikui had been operating there for several months and it was already quite successful.

But now, Hong Chengchou wants to remove it.

"Brother, should we save him or not?" Wang Ziyong asked anxiously.

Wang Jiayin did not answer immediately.

He stared at the map and remained silent for a long time.

"Save them," he finally spoke, "but not now. Cao Wenzhao is a former night scout, and his specialty is surprise attacks. He's leading cavalry, so they'll arrive like lightning. By the time our reinforcements reach Willow Tree Ravine, he'll have already finished his attack and retreated."

"What should we do then?"

"Pass on my orders." Wang Jiayin turned around, his gaze as hard as iron. "Tell Shen Yikui to abandon Willow Tree Ravine and retreat with his men towards Ziwu Ridge. Li Zicheng is there; send him to meet him."

Wang Ziyong was stunned. "Send Shen Yikui to find Li Zicheng? The two families have never had any dealings before. What if Li Zicheng doesn't come to our aid..."

"He will answer," Wang Jiayin interrupted him. "Li Zicheng once said, 'If the lips are gone, the teeth will be cold.' If Shen Yikui is wiped out, I will be next. If I am wiped out, he will be next. He understands this better than anyone else."

He paused, his gaze deepening. "Also, send someone to Ziwu Ridge to tell Li Zicheng that Cao Wenzhao's cavalry is heading north. Tell him to prepare."

Wang Ziyong opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end he just nodded and turned to leave.

Wang Jiayin stood alone in front of the map, gazing at the dense array of black arrows representing government troops in the mountains of northern Shaanxi.

You've arrived. Hong Chengchou, you've finally come.

He wasn't panicked, but a bitter feeling lingered in his heart. Li Zicheng had advised him to abandon Fugu, saying it was a dead end. He had listened, but not entirely—he couldn't bear to leave the city, nor could he bear to leave the people who called him "King Wang."

Now, Hong Chengchou has raised his sword. Can he hold out?

he does not know.

But he knew that even if he couldn't hold on, he had to.

Because he was Wang Jiayin, the leading figure of the Shaanxi-Gansu-Ningxia Border Region uprising. When that figure fell, the people's hearts scattered.

---

May 11th night, Willow Stream.

The moon was obscured by clouds, letting out only a few pale silver rays of light that fell upon the small village built against the mountainside.

The village is small, with dozens of earthen cave dwellings and shacks scattered on the hillside, and only a flat courtyard in the center of the village.

Shen Yikui stood in the courtyard, gazing at the hazy night sky to the south.

He had already received Wang Jiayin's urgent report that Cao Wenzhao's cavalry was rushing towards Liushujian.

He also received Wang Jiayin's instructions—abandon Liushujian and retreat towards Ziwuling.

He doesn't plan to leave.

It's not that I don't want to leave, it's that I can't.

His group of about a thousand men consisted of border troops he had gathered, as well as starving people who had come to him with their families. The only thing these people had in common was that they had no horses—they couldn't travel fast.

Cao Wenzhao's cavalry will arrive in no more than one day.

They would be caught up with before they could travel fifty miles.

In the open field, infantry fighting cavalry is tantamount to suicide.

So he decided to stay and guard it.

They waited by Willow Tree Stream for Wang Jiayin's reinforcements.

Although he knew in his heart that reinforcements might not come.

"Brother, why don't you go first? I'll stay behind to cover the rear." Liu Guoneng walked to his side and whispered.

He was Shen Yikui's old subordinate and his most trusted deputy.

"Where would I go? If I leave, would the brothers still be willing to stay?" Shen Yi-kui retorted.

Liu Guoneng remained silent.

Shen Yikui patted him on the shoulder. "Guoneng, I know you mean well. But we didn't stay in Willow Tree Valley for half a year for nothing. Have the brothers hide all the gunpowder, and when the Tartar government troops come in, let them taste what it's like to be blown to bits."

Liu Guoneng gritted his teeth and nodded emphatically. "Yes!"

Just then, the sound of horses' hooves came from outside the village.

Not just one or two. Hundreds or even thousands.

The sound of horses' hooves came simultaneously from the south and the east, like muffled thunder, shaking the earth.

The sentry at the village entrance cried out in a piercing voice, "Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"

Cao Wenzhao didn't wait until dawn. He was a former night scout, and his specialty was night raids. A dark and windy night was the perfect time for a kill.

"kill--!"

A dark mass of cavalry surged out of the darkness, their iron armor reflecting a cold, gleaming light in the dim moonlight. They didn't form ranks, they didn't shout, they simply launched their charge.

Horse hooves pounded the dry yellow earth, raising clouds of dust. The cavalrymen held their sabers high, the blades gleaming with a deathly cold light.

Shen Yikui stood on the threshing ground, watching the surging cavalry, his face expressionless.

He drew his sword, his voice like muffled thunder: "Light it!"

"Boom—!" The first gunpowder trap exploded.

Several explosives buried at the village entrance were detonated simultaneously, sending flames soaring into the sky and scattering gravel and iron filings everywhere.

The first few warhorses were blown off their feet, screaming and flying through the air.

But the cavalry behind did not hesitate at all. Cao Wenzhao's troops were the elite border troops of Yansui Town, and one of the most ferocious border cavalry in the Ming Dynasty.

They'd fought Mongols and Jurchens; what kind of scene hadn't they seen? A few explosions couldn't scare them.

The cavalry bypassed the explosion point, flanking the village from both sides like two iron torrents converging on it. A flash of blades, and several militia soldiers guarding the village entrance were cut down. Blood splattered, and screams echoed throughout the village.

"Hold on! Hold on!" Liu Guoneng roared hoarsely, leading dozens of his old brothers in a desperate resistance at the village entrance. They were all former border soldiers, skilled in swordsmanship and horsemanship, and formidable in combat. But in that brief moment, the defensive line was torn apart by the cavalry that surged in.

There were too many government troops. Although the rebels in Liushujian were brave and fierce, their numbers were far inferior. Cao Wenzhao led two thousand cavalrymen, while Shen Yikui had less than five hundred men who could fight.

The battle lasted less than half an hour. The defensive lines were breached one by one, and the brothers fell one by one.

Liu Guoneng was pierced through the chest by a long spear. Before he died, he dragged the cavalryman who had stabbed him off his horse and bit through his throat with his teeth.

Shen Yikui was surrounded in the courtyard. Only a dozen or so people remained by his side.

He was stabbed in the left arm, the wound so deep that the bone was visible.

An arrow had slashed his face, leaving half of it bloodied. But his eyes still burned with an indomitable flame.

Cao Wenzhao slowly rode forward. The firelight illuminated his cold, stern face. He looked at Shen Yikui, covered in blood and still fighting desperately with his sword, a complex expression flashing in his eyes. He didn't recognize this man. But in the past, in the border town of Yansui, they might have fought side by side.

"Shen Yikui, put down your knife." Cao Wenzhao's voice was not loud, but very clear. "Commander Hong has ordered that if you are willing to surrender, your past actions will be forgiven, and you may even be given the position of deputy general."

Shen Yikui laughed loudly. His laughter was hoarse and mournful, echoing over the burning village.

"Cao Wenzhao! I'm a border soldier of the Ming Dynasty, serving the court for over a decade. The court dismissed me with a single word! A severance pay of two taels of silver, leaving me with only three coins! Now that I'm living on my own, you're trying to persuade me to surrender? Let me tell you, I will never serve the Ming Dynasty again in my life!"

He raised his knife and pointed it at Cao Wenzhao.

Then, he turned around and looked at the last dozen or so old brothers beside him.

Those young faces were obscured by blood and dirt, but there was no fear in their eyes, only a calm acceptance of death.

"Brothers," his voice was hoarse but as steady as a rock, "follow me, charge one more time."

A dozen or so rebels launched a final charge against hundreds of government troops.

When the battle ended, Cao Wenzhao's troops had completely taken control of the burning village. Grain, livestock, ironware—everything usable was gathered up. The prisoners were strung together and crouched in the open space at the village entrance, trembling.

Cao Wenzhao dismounted and walked to a seriously wounded old rebel soldier.

"Shen Yikui is dead. Do you have anything to say?"

The old rebel leader raised his head, his mouth full of blood and foam, and chuckled twice. "Our king died a worthy death."

Cao Wenzhao remained silent for a moment, then turned and left. His heart remained unsettled for a long time. Shen Yikui, we were comrades. But now, I stand here, and you lie there.

Why? Because you're a thief, and I'm a soldier. That's fate.

The fire in Willow Creek burned for an entire night.

By the time the fire was extinguished, the rebel army's banner had been reduced to ashes. The few hundred surviving prisoners were tied together with ropes and, escorted by cavalry, staggered southward.

Cao Wenzhao, mounted on his horse, glanced back at the charred ruins. The newly reclaimed fields, the newly built cave dwellings, the chickens, ducks, pigs, and sheep that had been raised for less than half a year—all gone.

Shen Yikui's hard work and months of struggle vanished overnight.

He withdrew his gaze and spurred his horse south.

The good news arrived in Yan'an a few days later.

"Good!" Hong Chengchou put down the military report, a rare smile appearing on his face. "Cao Wenzhao has lived up to my expectations. Shen Yikui has been executed, and the thorn in our side has been removed."

Zhao's advisor cupped his hands and said, "Congratulations, Commander-in-Chief, on your first victory."

"What kind of victory is this?" Hong Chengchou waved his hand. "Liushujian is just a small force of about a thousand people. We've only pulled out one nail. The real battle is yet to come."

He stood up, walked to the map, and bent down to examine it closely. His finger moved southeast from Willow Tree Stream.

Wang Jiayin, now I can finally deal with you without restraint.