In the Ming Dynasty, I became invincible simply by extracting memories!

Wu Ping wrote a letter.

"Wu Ping of Meiling bows respectfully to General Yu. Last night's attack breached my camp, burned my supplies, and killed my soldiers. General Yu has capable men under his command, which I greatly admire. However, General Yu should also know that last night's battle was merely a test. I have brought over eighty warships, five thousand elite troops, sixteen cannons, and enough firearms and ammunition to last three months. General Yu, on the other hand, is trapped in an isolated city with fewer than two thousand soldiers, running out of gunpowder and arrows. How many days can he hold out? Three days? Five days?... "

Shen Lian scanned the so-called "letter of request for grain" from beginning to end and casually handed it back to Tang Kekuan. The letter was laced with barbs, sharp and menacing. Wu Ping politely stated that his purpose in coming was not to attack the city, but only to "borrow grain." He said that if Yu Dayou was willing to "lend" him three thousand shi of grain and ten thousand taels of silver, he would immediately withdraw his troops and not harm a single blade of grass in the city. If he refused, he would leave no one alive on the day the city fell.

The handwriting on the letter was neat and elegant, unlike that of a rough and uncultured person; it was most likely written by one of Wu Ping's advisors. At the end of the letter, a vermilion seal was prominently stamped: "Wu Family of Meiling".

Meiling was Wu Ping's old stronghold in Zhao'an.

"General Tang," Shen Lian raised his head, his eyes clear and bright, showing no sign of the exhaustion from last night's raid on the camp and being rolled in the crossfire, "Let's go see Commander Yu."

Tang Kekuan was taken aback: "Mr. Shen, you're still injured?"

"Flesh and blood wounds, nothing serious." Shen Lian said, already taking a step, his pace as fast as the wind. In the past, others would have assumed that his gait was simply due to his naturally strong physique. But Tang Kekuan didn't know that Shen Lian hadn't been idle during his time in Yu Dayou's military camp. Using this identity, he cultivated good relationships with the military instructors, frequently seeking their guidance and exchanging sparring, receiving a great deal of instruction from the battlefield. Coupled with his passion for martial arts from both his past and present lives, he practiced diligently day and night, honing his skills to become increasingly formidable.

Tang Kekuan had no choice but to follow. Traveling swiftly, Shen Lian's mind raced. The true meaning of Wu Ping's letter lay in the ten characters at the end: "If you do not lend grain, not a single chicken or dog will be spared on the day the city falls." This wasn't lending grain; it was blatant blackmail. Wu Ping was merely testing Yu Dayou's resolve. If Yu Dayou lacked confidence and wanted to preserve his forces, he would send someone to negotiate. And what Wu Ping wanted was precisely that opportunity to negotiate. Once negotiations began, he could use the letter to maneuver, ascertain the city's troop deployment, grain reserves, morale, and even contact his inside agents, thus firmly grasping the initiative.

This letter cannot be replied to.

Shen Lian and Tang Kekuan hurried to the outside of the council hall, where they heard Deng Cheng's cursing voice rolling out like thunder.

"What do you mean 'borrow grain'? This is clearly an open robbery! Do you really think our Ming army is so easy to bully? I'll just give them a taste of what it's like to have a cannonball fired at them!"

Shen Lian stepped into the room and replied, "General Deng is absolutely right!"

The candlelight flickered in the hall. Yu Dayou sat behind his desk, his face grim. Deng Cheng stood in the hall, blood still seeping from the bandage wrapped around his chest, yet he was already standing with his hands on his hips, berating them. Tang Kekuan followed Shen Lian in and stood beside Yu Dayou. Shen Lian stepped forward, cupped his hands to Yu Dayou, and said in a deep voice, "Commander Yu, this humble general also believes that we should directly send Wu Ping a cannonball to teach him a lesson!"

Yu Dayou's gaze fell on Shen Lian. Last night had been filled with wind and frost, a bloody raid on the camp, and a roll in the gunfire. The young man's eyes were still bloodshot, his face bore the soot of smoke, and the cloth wrapped around his hand was stained with faint blood. Yet, the posture he exuded was sharp and intimidating, like a honed steel blade.

"Shen Lian," Yu Dayou asked in a deep voice, "why did you also make such radical remarks?"

Shen Lian's gaze sharpened as he spoke eloquently, exuding an aura of authority: "Commander Yu, Wu Ping's letter was a deliberate test from beginning to end. He first praised our army's night raid and camp breach as 'commander Yu has capable men under your command,' his flattery was beautifully worded, but the real truth was the phrase 'not a single chicken or dog was spared.' He merely relied on his slight advantage—more ships, more soldiers, and more gunpowder—and wanted to treat us like mice, playing a cat-and-mouse game. Moreover, now that he has just gained power, he wants to subdue the enemy without a fight and gain both fame and fortune."

"In my humble opinion, given the current situation, a major battle is unavoidable. Rather than engaging in empty rhetoric and wasting energy playing word games, we should respond directly with artillery fire! Let our military strength clearly state our position, and let artillery fire solidify the entire army's resolve to resist the Japanese. Firstly, this will stabilize the morale of the troops in the city. Last night's raid was a great success, and the soldiers' morale is high. If we were to reply with a letter of negotiation now, it would only make them seem weak. Secondly, last night's night raid already gave us the upper hand and dampened the Japanese pirates' spirit. Now, responding forcefully with artillery fire will tell Wu Ping: You want to test us? We don't have time to play games with you!"

His words were well-organized and compelling. A glint flashed in Yu Dayou's eyes. Deng Cheng, listening nearby, felt his blood boil and slammed his hand on the table, making the teacup jump: "Well said! Commander Yu, Mr. Shen's words have struck a chord with me!"

Yu Dayou's gaze was like iron. He immediately slammed his hand on the table and said loudly, "Good! As you say. Deng Cheng, pass down the order: point those three firing cannons at Wu Ping's ship and blast them to smithereens!"

Deng Cheng grinned broadly, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth, and clasped his hands in a triumphant gesture, shouting, "Understood! Bomb them! Use artillery fire as a response to Wu Ping!"

A moment later, three muffled cannon shots rang out from the city wall. Three iron projectiles whistled out, splashing white sprays of water onto the sea, missing Wu Ping's ship by at least several dozen feet. But everyone knew that whether they hit or not was unimportant. What mattered was Yu Dayou's answer.

Wu Ping's fleet began to move.

Dozens of ships, like a school of fish searching for food, scattered across the sea, each looking for a suitable landing point. Dacheng Fortress is surrounded by the sea on three sides, with a coastline stretching for miles. Wu Ping's forces outnumbered the defending troops several times over, allowing him to land at multiple points simultaneously, overwhelming the defenders.

Just after noon, the Japanese pirates began to land.

The first to land were Wu Ping's elite troops—about five hundred men, divided into dozens of small boats, who stormed the mudflats from the southeast. They were clearly very familiar with the waterways of this beach, their small boats precisely avoiding reefs and whirlpools, heading straight for the gentlest part of the mudflats. The moment the keels of the boats touched the mud and sand, the Japanese pirates jumped off, wading through knee-deep water, shouting as they charged toward the city walls.

Tang Kekuan stood atop the city wall in the southeast corner, his eyes fixed intently on the approaching boats. His right hand, raised in mid-air, was as steady as a scale. As the hull of the first boat touched the mud and sand of the tidal flat, he swung his hand down sharply.

"Archers, prepare—"

On the city wall, twenty muskets were mounted on the crenellations, their dark muzzles all aimed at the mudflats. Smoke hissed from the matchlock ropes, flickering in the sea breeze.

"put!"

Twenty muskets simultaneously spewed fire and smoke, a dense barrage of bullets raining down like an iron hail. The Japanese pirates, barely off their small boats and before they could even settle on the mudflats, were felled in droves. Screams and curses mingled together, blood seeping into the gray mud, staining the mudflats a dark red. The sea breeze, carrying the stench of gunpowder and blood, assaulted their senses, stinging their eyes.

But these Japanese pirates did not retreat. The first wave fell, and the second immediately surged forward, stepping over the corpses of their comrades to continue their charge. Crouching low, carrying rattan shields, they advanced rapidly towards the city wall in skirmish formation. The arquebuses were too slow to load; after each volley, there was at least a half-cup of tea's worth of downtime—loading the powder, loading the bullet, compressing it, and igniting it—each step was stretched infinitely long by the pirates' charge. And it was precisely this gap that allowed the pirates to surge forward madly, crossing most of the mudflats in the blink of an eye.

"Fire!" Tang Kekuan ordered sternly.

A hail of arrows rained down from the city walls, a dark mass falling onto the mudflats. The arrows struck the rattan shields with a dense, thudding sound, like a downpour hitting banana leaves. The Japanese pirates' rattan shields were thick and tough, blocking most of the arrows; only a few were pierced through the legs and feet, falling to the ground with screams. Their advance was astonishingly fast, and in the blink of an eye, they were close to the barbed wire array that Tang Kekuan had previously laid out along the edge of the mudflats.

The first Japanese pirate to step on the barbed wire let out a piercing scream, writhing on the ground clutching his foot. The four sharp spikes of the barbed wire had pierced his foot through, and when it was pulled out, it was still covered in blood and bits of flesh. Then came the second, the third—screams echoed one after another. But chillingly, the pirates' charging formation remained intact. The pirates at the front even used rattan shields to pave a bloody path through the barbed wire, and the pirates behind them continued their charge, stepping over the shields and the corpses of their comrades.

Shen Lian could see everything clearly from the city wall. The fighting spirit of these Japanese pirates was even stronger than he had anticipated. They were not a rabble, but highly trained professional warriors. For every man who fell, someone immediately took his place; for every rattan shield that fell, another was immediately placed in its place. Their eyes gleamed coldly behind the shields, showing no fear, only a chilling certainty.

At the same time, shouts of battle echoed from the north and west. Wu Ping's main force had begun a multi-pronged attack. The city was surrounded by the sea on three sides, with breaches everywhere, while the defending army numbered less than 1,500, with only 300 to 400 men assigned to each side of the city wall. The disparity in troop strength was so great that it was a hopeless situation.

The battle raged from noon until dusk.

Wave after wave of Japanese pirates charged, but the defenders on the city walls repelled them wave after wave. The breech-loading cannons glowed red-hot from firing; the gunners wrapped the barrels with seawater-soaked cloths to cool them, hissing white steam rising as they reloaded once the barrels had cooled slightly. The musket barrels were scalding hot, blisters forming on the musketeers' hands, but no one retreated. They simply wiped their palms haphazardly on their clothes and picked up their guns again. When the arrows ran out, the soldiers lay prone on the battlements, pulling out the arrows the pirates had shot onto the city walls, nocking them on their bows, and firing back. One young soldier, while pulling out an arrow, had a piece of flesh scraped off his palm by the barb; tears streamed down his face from the pain, but he gritted his teeth, nocked the arrow, cursed, "Fuck you," and released it.

Shen Lian had lost count of how many Japanese pirates he had cut down on the city walls. His blade would chip, he'd throw it away, and get a new one. Chips again, then another. By the fourth one, he'd simply given up – a chipped blade was just a useless iron bar; even if it didn't kill, it'd leave a bloody mess. His arms ached so much he could barely lift them; each swing required all his strength, leaving his hands split open in several places, blood dripping down the hilt and soaking the cloth wrapped around his hands. Yi Dong and Yi Xia remained by his side, the three of them back to back, forming a small battle formation. Yi Dong's left hand was slashed by a Japanese sword, blood gushing out, but he only hastily wrapped it with a cloth, his right hand swinging with undiminished speed. Yi Xia's old shoulder wound reopened during the battle, bright red blood seeping through the gauze; her face was as white as paper, yet she gritted her teeth and remained silent, her short sword flashing up and down, each strike aimed at the enemy's vitals.

As dusk fell, the Japanese pirates finally retreated.

On the sea, Wu Ping's fleet retreated five miles away and anchored to rest. Below the city, hundreds of corpses lay scattered haphazardly on the mudflats, some Japanese pirates, others Ming soldiers. Blood drifted into the sea with the ebb and flow of the tide, turning the receding foam a pale red. Several seagulls circled above the piles of corpses, emitting mournful cries, their wings beating against the twilight like a flock of restless souls.

Shen Lian sat down against the edge of the battlements, panting heavily. His vision was blurry, his ears were ringing, and every part of his body ached. He looked down at his hands—the blood on his thumb and forefinger had congealed and stuck to the hilt of his knife, impossible to tear off. Yi Dong walked over, squatted down beside him, and silently handed him a water pouch. Shen Lian took it, gulped down a large mouthful, water trickling down his chin, washing away the dried blood. Yi Dong looked at him, hesitated, and finally just sighed softly.

Yu Dayou walked over from the other end of the city wall. His battle robe was mostly soaked in blood, making it impossible to tell whether it was from the enemy or himself. A bandage was wrapped around his left arm, blood seeping through it, but his steps remained steady and powerful, as if the injury didn't exist. He stopped beside Shen Lian, looked at the chipped blade of the knife in Shen Lian's hand, the dense slits on the blade like serrations, and said, "Shen Lian, you're a pale-faced scholar, but your swordsmanship is quite good."

Shen Lian answered after catching his breath. Of course, he couldn't tell the truth. He had been secretly learning from the Yu family's military camp, exchanging skills with the instructors, and even secretly learning the secret techniques of Deng Cheng and a few other veterans under Yu Dayou's command.

He could only vaguely reply, "When I was in Beijing, I studied under several masters, but my learning was haphazard and lacked a systematic approach. After joining Commander Yu's army, I learned some real battlefield skills from the camp's instructors, but it was all just learning on the spot."

Yu Dayou snorted noncommittally, then turned to Yi Dong and Yi Xia, the twin sisters who were guarding Shen Lian on either side. The two were also covered in blood. "You two, are you Shen Lian's guards?"

Yi Dong and Yi Xia exchanged a glance. Yi Xia nodded: "Yes."

"Impressive skills." Yu Dayou's praise was concise and powerful, without any unnecessary embellishment. "Just now, from a distance, I observed that your swordsmanship style is not the military style. Your short swordsmanship is geared towards close combat, with ruthless attacks aimed directly at vital points. This doesn't seem like battlefield martial arts; it's more like—"

Shen Lian picked up the conversation and interrupted, saying, "Commander Yu has a good eye. These sisters were brought from the capital by me. They used to make a living in a security escort agency, where they practiced survival and killing skills, which are indeed different from the more aggressive style of the military."

Yu Dayou glanced again at the pile of Japanese pirate corpses lying haphazardly beneath the battlements, and said in a casual tone, "Tell me, how many did you kill today?"

Shen Lian said, "I don't know."

"Didn't count?" Yu Dayou glanced back at him, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips. "Today, a total of twenty-five Japanese pirates passed by my blade. The section of the wall you, Shen Lian, guarded was attacked most fiercely by the pirates, with several waves of men taking turns attacking. There are at least a dozen corpses piled up at your feet. I heard that last night in the pirate camp, you cut down no fewer than five people with your sword. So, if I calculate it that way, you've probably killed no fewer than twenty enemies these past few days."

He continued, half-jokingly and half-seriously, "How about it? Can you compare to this old man?"

Shen Lian laughed so hard he coughed, aggravating his wound and causing him to wince in pain, but he still laughed: "How dare this humble general compare to Commander Yu? This humble general kills with the courage of a common man; Commander Yu kills with the skill of a warrior capable of defeating ten thousand men. The difference between a warrior capable of defeating one man and a warrior capable of defeating ten thousand men is as vast as the difference between heaven and earth."

"You've got a way with words," Yu Dayou chuckled, his gaze fixed on the "Wu" flag still fluttering in the twilight on the sea. "Wu Ping was just testing the waters today. He only set up ladders; he didn't even deploy the battering rams, and he didn't fire a single shot from those six cannons. He's probably determined to take the city, intending it as his future stronghold. Today, he's just using infantry to wear us down with his strength and ammunition. Tomorrow will be the real siege."

On the sea, another fleet of ships was sailing towards Dachengsuo from afar. The ships with the characters "Xu" and "Wang" were faintly visible. Xu Chaoguang and Wang Boxuan, those venomous snakes lurking on the sea, were waiting for their chance to strike.