Chapter 320: The Deep Crimson Longhua River

Though it was already deep in the night, Lei Sanxiang still ordered the soldiers to march through the night.

His fifteen thousand men had boarded ships on the Zhang River, disembarked on the Gan River, and marched over mountains and ridges all night to get here.

To prevent the troops from scattering during the night march, every squad leader hung a red lantern from the pack on his back.

The lanterns only cast light backward in a single direction—enemies to the front or sides could not see them, while the troops behind could follow the light to march.

By this time, the soldiers had already marched more than thirty li continuously through the hills.

The staff officer accompanying the army walked up to Lei Sanxiang and said breathlessly: "Regional Commander, we've been marching all day—should we let the troops rest a while?"

Lei Sanxiang wiped the sweat from his brow, pondered a moment, and said: "Have the troops rest in place for two quarters of an hour, eat some dry rations, but don't loosen their leg wrappings."

"Yes!" The staff officer acknowledged, and moments later, the order was passed down level by level through the column.

The troops were now in the hills, unaware of the situation at Huangtu Ridge.

But by all reasonable expectation, Zhang Moye's thousand-odd men could at most hold off tens of thousands of Ming troops for a day or two. If they did not march urgently, Zhu Dadian—that big fish—might slip away. That was why Lei Sanxiang was marching through the night.

Though the straight-line distance from the Gan River to this spot was barely over thirty li, the hilly terrain rose and fell unpredictably, and the soldiers had actually covered nearly forty li. Their strength was severely depleted, and with battle approaching, they still needed to recover their stamina.

Lei Sanxiang patrolled among the troops while issuing orders: "Spread all the sentries out and scout out the Ming army's dispositions."

Even as he gave orders, Lei Sanxiang walked into a banner company of the Sixth Battalion.

"Regional Commander!" The squad leader immediately rose and clasped his fists, and the soldiers in the squad also rose one after another to salute.

"Sit down." Lei Sanxiang pressed his hand downward, then walked up to a soldier. "You grew up by the sea, didn't you?"

Hearing this, the soldier tried to rise again, but one of his feet was clearly injured, and his movements were very slow: "Reporting to the Regional Commander, my family is from Fuzhou."

Lei Sanxiang crouched down, stared at the soldier's leg wrappings, then said: "Take off the leg wrappings."

Leg wrappings were what the Great Ming called puttees. They could ease walking fatigue and also ward off mosquitoes, leeches, venomous snakes, and the like. Nearly everyone in the mountain regions knew how to bind them, but not many coastal fishermen did.

"Yes!" The soldier acknowledged, removed his leg wrappings, and both his calves were revealed to be badly swollen.

Lei Sanxiang said: "You bound them wrong. Leg wrappings should be bound from the inside of the ankle, wrapping from inside to outside, from bottom to top—they should be tied tight at the bottom and loose at the top."

As he spoke, Lei Sanxiang gave a brief demonstration, then said to the squad leader: "Check who else has leg injuries, and send them all to the rear casualty camp."

"Bang! Bang! Bang——"

Just then, from the mountains to the southwest, the sound of gunfire suddenly rang out, followed by flashes of firelight.

Lei Sanxiang recognized at once the sound of Ming troops firing three-barreled guns. This was clearly a warning signal to the main camp—which meant the Ming army's main camp might be nearby!

"All troops, prepare for battle!" Lei Sanxiang shouted.

At the same time, in the Ming army's main camp at Huangtian Duan, Zhu Dadian, who had been pacing restlessly, heard the gunfire and immediately ordered the entire army to prepare for battle.

His subordinate said in confusion: "Your Excellency, it might just be a small band of roving troops. Waking the whole army in the dead of night—isn't that—"

Zhu Dadian cursed: "This commander has said it—all troops, prepare for battle!"

His subordinate could only obey. Moments later, the deep, grim sound of conch horns rang out through the camp, and Ming soldiers poured out of their tents, quickly forming into hollow square formations.

By now, the gunfire from the eastern mountains was growing increasingly intense, and the soldiers' expressions were extremely tense.

Someone in the formation muttered softly: "It couldn't be the bandit troops from Huangtu Ridge coming to kill us, could it?"

Though Zhu Dadian had ordered news of the disastrous defeat sealed, He Guodian had led a few hundred battered remnants fleeing back in utter disgrace—the old veterans had long since guessed what had happened.

The Xia army won every battle they fought, while the Ming army lost every one they fought. Five thousand men losing to a thousand—to the common soldier, that was only to be expected.

Someone else in the formation replied: "I'm not afraid of the bandit troops from Huangtu Ridge coming to kill us. What I fear is the bandit navy sailing in from Poyang Lake."

"Pah! Don't be a jinx!" another soldier cursed.

At this time, the Great Xia land army was still not well known, and having been trapped before the walls of Ganzhou for over half a year, the common soldiers did not fear them much.

But the Great Xia navy had truly scared the Ming army out of their wits. Before Lin Qian had raised his banner, the Nan'ao navy had already struck north against the Jianzhou barbarians and pacified the red barbarians in the south.

After raising his banner, they had never tasted a single defeat. In the Battle of Poyang Lake, the Great Xia navy had driven straight in for over a thousand li, seized control of the grain transport routes, threatened Nanjing, and annihilated the elite of the Ming navy to the last man—so enraging the Emperor that he had Minister Yuan executed by a thousand cuts.

Since that battle, Ming soldiers from top to bottom had all contracted a fear of water. Not to mention daring to fight the Great Xia navy—even merely approaching a riverbank or lakeshore made their livers tremble.

Their main camp at Huangtian Duan was separated from the Gan River by over forty li of mountain roads, so they did not worry about the Great Xia navy coming up the Gan River.

But the Longhua River ran right through Huangtian Duan. If the enemy sailed in from the Longhua River, things would surely turn bad!

The gunfire lasted for roughly an hour, then gradually fell silent, and the woods returned to emptiness.

The soldiers muttered quietly among themselves, guessing whether the enemy had withdrawn or whether their own dispatch riders had all been killed.

"Shut up!" A company commander growled, and the soldiers' whispers ceased at once.

At the center of the square formation, Zhu Dadian frowned deeply, staring at the woods to the east.

A general under his command said: "Your Excellency, this officer will take two hundred men to scout it out."

Zhu Dadian shook his head: "Not allowed."

Apart from the Night Scouts, most Ming soldiers suffered from night blindness, and with clouds covering the moon tonight, charging recklessly into the mountains would be suicide.

Moreover, night fighting disadvantaged the attacking side, so no matter what tricks the enemy had, forming up and holding fast was the best response.

Another general proposed sending troops to guard the upper and lower reaches of the Longhua River. The proposal sounded utterly absurd, because in the dry season the Longhua River was so shallow one could wade across it—even if a navy came to attack, they would be rowing fishing boats.

Not to mention that the upper reaches were still completely under Ming control.

The Great Xia navy was too formidable—the Ming generals were truly afraid.

Zhu Dadian pondered for a moment, agreed to the proposal, and ordered two chiliarchs to each take over a thousand men, break off from the formation, and station themselves at the upper and lower reaches of the Longhua River respectively.

After much more time passed, a rustling sound of grass and trees stirring rose from the woods to the east.

All the nearby Ming soldiers braced themselves. The bird-gun musketeers raised their guns to their shoulders, aimed into the darkness, and their breathing grew heavier and heavier.

Moments later, the sound of footsteps approaching from far to near came out of the darkness.

"Bang!" One bird-gun musketeer, in his nervousness, pulled the trigger, and then gunfire rang out in a continuous volley. In the darkness, grass and trees were struck, making cracking sounds, mixed with the sound of bodies hitting the ground.

"Chirp! Chirp!"

Sparrow calls sounded from the darkness—this was the secret signal for Night Scouts returning to camp, used specifically to distinguish friend from foe at long range.

But the Ming bird-gun musketeers were all startled birds. Having already opened fire, they paid no heed to whatever bird calls came—they all fired desperately toward wherever the sounds came from.

"Stop! Cease fire!" The Battalion Commander galloped behind the musketmen, shouting five or six times before the gunners finally halted.

The Battalion Commander then called out: "Are you brothers the Night Scouts across there?"

"Fuck your grandmothers!" someone cursed from the darkness.

Before long, five or six Night Scouts emerged in the firelight, dragging three or four wounded soldiers with them.

As the Night Scouts passed through the main formation, their resentment blazed skyward, and the looks they shot at their own comrades were filled with murderous intent.

Paying no mind to settling scores with their fellow troops, the leading Night Scout hurried to pay respects to Zhu Dadian.

"Your Excellency, in the mountain forests to the east, near Qincen Hollow and Tongmu Hollow, there are several hundred rebel soldiers. We engaged them in successive skirmishes but could not prevail, and have withdrawn in batches."

"Only several hundred?" Zhu Dadian confirmed.

"Only several hundred, but all elite troops."

Since the Xia army's attack this time was a surprise assault, the entire force had imposed strict light discipline—even the guiding red lanterns were shrouded on three sides. In their haste, this band of Night Scouts had failed to spot the Xia army's main force concealed among the mountain ridges.

Zhu Dadian hesitated briefly, then said: "Dong Yue."

"Your subordinate is here." A Mobile Corps Commander General stepped forward with clasped hands.

"Take three hundred household retainers into the mountains and wipe out this band of rebel soldiers."

"Errr—yes." Dong Yue hesitated slightly, acknowledged the order with clasped hands, and quickly mustered his men before heading up the mountain on foot.

The Great Ming's household retainers were all elite warriors. In peacetime they were supplied with ample meat, wine, rice, and noodles; with proper nutrition, they suffered no night blindness, making them well-suited for night combat.

At this time, the Ming army stationed at the Huangtian Forge camp numbered over twenty thousand. By all rights, several hundred rebel soldiers should have posed no concern, but Zhu Dadian was extremely cautious—he would only disband the formation after the retainers had driven off the rebels.

After the retainers went up the mountain, barely a quarter of an incense stick had burned before gunfire sounded once more. This time it was closer, and the reports were denser, sending flocks of birds scattering from the eastern ridges in great agitation.

The weather was slightly cold, and a temperature inversion layer near the ground carried the sounds even farther.

From within the camp, one could hear shouts intermingled with the gunfire from beyond the mountain.

"—The rebels are to the east, behind that rock formation—kill them!"

"Old Ge? Who goes there?"

"Where's the rear squad? Shoot arrows toward the firelight!"

As the shouting grew increasingly panicked and urgent, the gunfire beyond the ridgeline intensified as well, gradually merging into a continuous roar that scarcely paused at all—thunderous in volume, echoing endlessly between the peaks.

In the Ming army's main camp, war horses pawed the ground restlessly, while the faces of the musketmen on the perimeter grew ever more terrified.

The various Battalion Commanders paced back and forth through the formation, repeating: "Don't panic! Hold steady!"

Then more sounds came.

"Sir—Commander sir—he's dead! Too many of them, retreat now!"

Zhu Dadian, standing within the Ming formation, could not make out the retainers' shouts, but he could read the gunfire—that dense, unbroken wall of reports could not possibly come from only a few hundred men.

He summoned the leading Night Scout and demanded harshly: "How many rebel soldiers are there in total?"

"This—" Cold sweat beaded on the Night Scout's forehead; he could not answer.

Zhu Dadian roared in fury: "False reporting of military intelligence—drag him away and behead him!"

The Night Scout panicked instantly and begged for mercy: "Your Excellency! Your Excellency, I'm willing to scout the mountain again—Your Excellency, spare my life, I'm willing to atone through merit—Your Excellency, Your Exce—"

With a "puchi" sound, the pleas ceased abruptly. The Night Scout's head tumbled to the side, blood spurting in torrents from his neck, splattering noisily across the ground.

At this moment, sounds came from the nearby hillside.

The Battalion Commander nearby knew it was the retainers returning to the formation and quickly ordered: "No firing!"

Before long, several dozen household soldiers came tumbling and scrambling back into the formation. One of them, his face twisted in grief, reported before Zhu Dadian: "Your Excellency, General Dong took a bullet and is dead—"

Zhu Dadian pressed urgently: "How many enemy troops are there exactly, and in what position?"

The household soldier paused, then said: "Several thousand or so—they've already surrounded us, on the two or three ridges nearby."

Zhu Dadian hurriedly said: "Issue orders to the entire army—reinforce—"

Halfway through his words, he suddenly saw hundreds upon hundreds of orange-red flashes on a nearby ridgeline, followed by a thunderclap-like booming roar.

Countless whistling sounds filled the air, and at the edge of the square formation, several dozen soldiers went limp and collapsed.

"The rebels are on the eastern mountain—return fire toward the flashes!" Zhu Dadian bellowed from within the formation.

"Your Excellency, you're in danger." His subordinates immediately rushed forward and dragged him behind cover.

The Battalion Commanders and Company Commanders at the formation's edge also spotted the position of the muzzle flashes and ordered muskets and cannons to engage the mountain.

The Ming army was also heavily equipped with firearms—especially at the outermost ring of the hollow square formation, where the famed chariot camp was deployed.

The so-called chariot camp was built around war chariots that could be pulled by mules and horses or pushed by manpower. The chariots were made of thick timber capable of stopping arrows and lead shot, and mounted one to two Folangji cannons each—suited for both offense and defense.

The musketmen fired from behind the chariots, while sword-and-shield men and spearmen stood behind the musketmen, forming the outer ring of the hollow square.

Inside the formation were elite units—cavalry and household retainers—ready to sally forth from the four corners once the enemy showed signs of fatigue, and crush them.

Though the Ming army had been taken by surprise, their sheer numbers of men, guns, and cannons allowed them to pound the ridgeline indiscriminately, and for a time they actually suppressed the rebels' fire.

What the Ming army did not know was that this round of shooting was merely a feint by the Xia army. They had deployed only skirmishers, scattered across various points on the ridgeline and hidden behind cover. The Ming army's wild volleys sent the pine forest rustling, but inflicted virtually no casualties on the skirmishers.

During gaps in the Ming barrage, the skirmishers popped out from cover and fired toward the Ming formation.

The Ming soldiers all suffered from night blindness, and being inside the camp with its many torches blazing within the square formation, they made a large, glittering target in the darkness. Even firing blindly in the direction of the Ming formation occasionally found its mark.

While the skirmishers pinned the enemy down, Lei Sanxiang ordered his soldiers to take the mountain paths and seize the remaining ridgelines, forming a complete encirclement of the Ming army from all four sides.

According to Ming dynasty military manuals, night battles could only be fought by small bands of elite raiders—never by a full army in decisive engagement, for night favored the defender, and a pitched battle at night was sure to end in defeat.

Because he himself was unskilled at night fighting, Zhu Dadian had developed a fixed mindset, assuming the enemy was the same—and so he showed no reaction as the Xia army seized the high ground.

Lei Sanxiang stood atop the ridge, watching the Ming army's turtle-shell formation remain utterly motionless, allowing itself to be surrounded and devoured, and felt the scene was strangely familiar.

More than a decade earlier, on that night beneath Jilin Cliff, Du Song had faced Nurhaci's cavalry and ordered the entire army to form up and light torches for defense—only to be used as target practice by the Later Jin's horsemen.

Now, over ten years had passed, and he never expected the Ming army's tactics to have changed not one bit.

And he, Lei Sanxiang, had gone from being a corpse beneath the cliff to a gravedigger standing above it.

"Bring the cannons up!"

Lei Sanxiang gave the order, and his men successively carried over a large number of assorted cannons — captured tiger-crouch cannons, Folangji cannons stripped from the Sea Wolf, and disassembled three-pounder field guns.

On mountain marches, mules and horses struggled to pass; these cannons had all been carried by hand and shoulder. They were all light pieces of small weight, but there were so many of them that every banner team could be equipped with five or six.

While cannons were being set up on the eastern mountain ridges, two units each from the north and south were threading around to encircle. Once in position, they would fire a red signal rocket.

Moments later, at the Ming army's south, north, northwest, and southwest, red signal rockets burst open with a crack.

The Ming soldiers were greatly alarmed; someone muttered: "Disaster, the rebel navy is here!"

The Xia army rarely used red signal rockets, but the navy used them far too often. During the Poyang Lake naval battle, the eagle ships had chased Yuan Chonghuan firing them endlessly like it was New Year's. Word spread from one to ten, from ten to a hundred, leaving the Ming army with a deep psychological shadow.

Rumors spread through the army that seeing a red signal rocket was like seeing the King of Hell's death warrant.

At this moment, even a fool could tell the army was surrounded; morale immediately wavered.

Zhu Dadian heard his subordinate's report, pondered a moment, then commanded: "Light all the torches and braziers!"

He knew that lighting fires made them a target for the enemy, but if they didn't light up, they might not even need the enemy to attack — they would scatter on their own.

At the same time, Zhu Dadian said: "Have the town garrison troops cooperate with three hundred household retainers to occupy the mountain ridges due west."

On the eastern mountain of the Ming army, Lei Sanxiang never received the signal rocket from the west. Knowing something had gone wrong there, and seeing the moon had already shifted west — roughly the fifth watch, with dawn not far off — he could wait no longer.

Lei Sanxiang said in a deep voice: "Total assault, now!"

"Whoosh—crack!" A red signal rocket soared up from the mountain ridge.

Moments later, around the Ming army camp, ten thousand guns fired at once. The roar of gunfire and cannon was earth-shattering, shaking birds and beasts into flight for over ten li. The ground trembled violently, as if the earth dragon itself were turning over.

In the Ming soldiers' eyes, the flashes of gunfire covered the entire river valley and mountain ridges; for an instant, heaven and earth were dazzled bright as day.

Then solid iron shot, grapeshot, canister, and lead balls rained down like droplets, the air filled with the whistling shriek of projectiles.

The musketeers in the front ranks of the formation only heard put-put sounds from all directions — the sound of lead balls striking earth and wood. The man beside them might be loading his ammunition one moment, then fall to the ground with a muffled grunt the next, a mist of blood bursting into the air.

Battalion Commanders, Company Commanders, and squad leaders shouted themselves hoarse, ordering soldiers to fire toward the flashes — but flashes were everywhere, and in their panic, the soldiers could only shoot wildly at random.

The entire Longhua River valley, seven or eight li in every direction, roared without cease like a thunderstorm. After just one exchange of fire, gunsmoke had already filled the entire battlefield.

On the high ground to the east, Lei Sanxiang's blood was boiling. From his vantage point, using the Ming army's own torches, he could clearly see their entire deployment.

Countless Ming soldiers were crushed like ants beneath the cannonballs. Side-shield carts, assault carts, and single-wheel war carts were struck by ammunition one after another, detonating in sympathetic explosions that blasted clusters of fire across the Ming formation — a magnificent sight.

The Ming musketeers and spearmen in the front ranks fell in rows like wheat being harvested. Orders, screams, explosions,

and the mournful cries of war horses mingled into a single din across the valley, piercing eardrums with pain.

But to Lei Sanxiang's ears, this was simply heavenly music. He did not have His Majesty's compassionate, heaven-pitying heart; he understood only one principle — enemies must be slaughtered ruthlessly.

Massacring the Ming army right now was the scenery he most loved to watch.

After several exchanges of fire between the two armies, the Ming formation gradually fell into chaos and their firepower weakened. Xia army sentries seized the opportunity to creep forward, closing in to hurl fierce-fire jars and thermite agents into the Ming ranks.

In an instant, raging flames and poisonous smoke ravaged the Ming formation, which gradually began to show signs of collapse.

"Hahahahaha————" Lei Sanxiang watched with rising excitement, threw back his head in wild laughter, and reached a hand toward his personal guards: "Give me the gun!"

A subordinate officer tried to dissuade him: "Regional Commander, the front line is dangerous."

Lei Sanxiang cursed: "Dangerous my ass! Do you see any counterattack left from that Zhu bird-man's men? Give me the gun!"

The guard could not argue with him and could only hand the gun to Lei Sanxiang.

When Lei Sanxiang had been a soldier, he had used the three-barreled musket; he excelled at firearms and had long since mastered this flintlock musket.

He skillfully checked the trigger, hammer, and powder chamber, cleaned the bore, then reached out a hand.

The guard understood his meaning and handed over the oil-paper-wrapped paper cartridges.

Lei Sanxiang tore open the powder charge with his teeth, loaded with practiced ease, then raised the gun and fired. Bang! Smoke billowed — whether he had hit any enemy, no one could tell.

Lei Sanxiang was greatly excited. He loaded another round and advanced toward the front line. Along the way, Xia soldiers saw the Regional Commander personally coming to the front and their morale surged; they too surged forward.

As the two armies closed in, the flintlock's accuracy and lethality improved markedly. The front ranks of Ming soldiers were mowed down in swaths, and together with the supervising squads behind them, they were pushed back toward the center of the formation.

Zhu Dadian dispersed his remaining household retainers throughout the formation, but still could not reverse the decline. He could only roar: "Hold on! Dawn is almost here — the enemy will surely withdraw!"

Amid the hail of gunfire, a subordinate burst into the tent and shouted: "Your Excellency, the enemy is charging up!"

A staff officer said: "Please, Your Excellency, temporarily avoid the enemy's spearhead!"

Zhu Dadian's face flushed blood-red: "I am the dignified Governor-General of Jiangxi — avoid the rebels' spearhead?"

With a scrape he drew his saber, strode out of the tent in a few steps, mounted his war horse, and bellowed: "Soldiers, follow me to kill the enemy!"

Having said this, without caring whether anyone followed, he spurred his horse and charged straight toward the densest concentration of enemies to the east.

The Ming army had been on the verge of collapse, but seeing the Governor-General charge alone into the enemy formation without even wearing armor, they were greatly inspired and turned back to fight one after another. Especially the household retainers who maintained discipline — they immediately spurred their horses forward to protect Zhu Dadian.

The cavalry soon crashed into the Xia formation, hacking and killing at will with tremendous momentum, forcibly beating back the Xia army's bayonet charge.

Lei Sanxiang had just reached the foot of the mountain at that moment. Seeing this, he roared: "That's a group of household retainers! Form ranks, prepare double-volley fire!"

The Regional Commander directly commanding banner teams — that shout had skipped who knew how many levels of command. Fortunately, the Xia army was well drilled and quickly formed up under Lei Sanxiang's orders.

"Raise guns! Fire!" Lei Sanxiang shouted.

"Bang! Bang! Bang————" Along the firing line, muzzle flashes joined into a continuous sheet of light.

A whole layer of Zhu Dadian's household retainers fell in an instant. He located the enemy's direction, pointed with his saber, and shouted: "Follow me and kill them!"

With that he charged ahead first, the retainers rushing after him in unison, their horse hooves thundering like rolling drums — an utterly terrifying sight.

Lei Sanxiang kept commanding his soldiers to fire. Under the double-volley system, the retainers fell in rows.

Moments later, the cavalry was upon them, crashing directly into the thin firing line and tearing a great gap through it. A dozen or more Xia soldiers had their bones broken and sinews snapped on the spot, collapsing to the ground.

A dozen or so retainers also fell from their horses, and bayonets clashed with wild-goose sabers in close combat.

Lei Sanxiang's blood surged to his head; he too charged forward with his bayonet. Compared to the wild-goose saber, the bayonet was longer and had the advantage in close-quarters grappling.

The Ming retainers were all skilled in martial arts, but having been thrown dizzy and facing four or five bayonets at once, they could only be stabbed to death.

In the melee, Lei Sanxiang spotted a man with graying hair protected in the center of the retainers. This man wore no armor and held his saber awkwardly — surely a high official.

Lei Sanxiang let out a great shout, raised his bayonet, and charged fiercely forward. Before the retainers on either side could react, Lei Sanxiang had already plunged the bayonet into Zhu Dadian's belly, twisted it viciously, then yanked it out.

Zhu Dadian's face was full of shock; blood gushed endlessly from the wound. He braced himself with his saber, knelt to the ground, and died with eyes wide open.

"Lord Governor! Lord Governor is dead!"

Someone shouted loudly.

The household retainers around were retainers of the Jiangxi Assistant Regional Commander and Battalion Commander, not Zhu Dadian's retainers. With the Governor-General dead, they had no reason to fight to the death—their will to fight collapsed entirely, each fighting for himself as they retreated outward.

But Lei Sanxiang suddenly leaped out from his own formation, startling the nearby personal guards and line infantry. Now, as if taking revenge, they surged forward and stabbed the fleeing retainers one by one.

Lei Sanxiang wiped the blood from his face and said to those around him: "You lot, shout quickly—say Zhu Niao——say Zhu Dadian is dead, surrender and you won't be killed!"

For their own commander to have stabbed the enemy Governor-General to death amid the chaos of battle was a story straight out of a tale-book. The surrounding soldiers, seeing Lei Sanxiang's ferocity, had their morale raised to the absolute peak. At his words, they all strained their throats and shouted, charging with bayonets as they yelled, stabbing to death every Ming soldier they saw.

The Xia army on the surrounding mountains also charged down together, their momentum like fierce tigers descending the mountain. Everyone's eyes were red with bloodlust, and as the cry of "surrender and you won't be killed" was shouted again and again, it dwindled down to just "kill."

Only when the sun rose in the east and the smoke of gunpowder dispersed over Huangtian Forge did the Xia army gradually stop.

Lei Sanxiang climbed to a high point and saw that in the river valley, layers of Ming corpses lay scattered in every direction—a mountain of bodies stretching endlessly to the horizon. Not a speck of soil or blade of grass could be seen on the ground, and the entire Longhua River had been dyed deep red.

Yahei

Fenyuan

Pen