Chapter 167

“Could it be...” Lan Yu muttered under his breath, voice low, expression desolate: “Am I truly inferior to Zhu Ying?”

As he spoke.

A complex glint flashed in Lan Yu’s eyes—a sense of defeat too profound for words.

Like suffering a battle on the battlefield with no chance to fight back.

“Is it destined that Huaixi will fade in the future Great Ming?”

This thought stabbed into Lan Yu’s heart like a sharp dagger, filling him with an unspoken dread.

As one of the last remaining Huaixi generals, still holding military command.

Lan Yu knew better than anyone the value of battlefield merit—it was a lifeline.

He thought of Hu Weiyong, once of Huaixi, a civil official who had his entire family slaughtered before the current Emperor.

If Huaixi truly fell to such ruin, would the Emperor spare them?

“Sigh.”

“I never thought that after years of dominating the battlefield, I’d be overshadowed by a green boy.”

“If my brother-in-law were still alive, he’d surely laugh at me,” Lan Yu thought bitterly.

A general under twenty, repeatedly earning battlefield merit—from Liaodong to this northern campaign—Zhu Ying’s name had gradually risen in the army, across the entire Great Ming, growing ever more brilliant.

At first, when the Liaodong campaign began, Zhu Ying’s appearance, his achievements!

Lan Yu had thought perhaps he was merely lucky—but as time passed, Zhu Ying kept winning, delivering shock after shock of astonishing victories, clearly beyond mere fortune.

Ten thousand Northern Yuan cavalry!

Lan Yu had long estimated in his mind: if given an equal number of cavalry—even just one or two thousand fewer—he had full confidence he could defeat them, relying on his troops’ morale and spirit.

But!

The actual battlefield outcome was utterly unequal.

The Great Ming cavalry was never strong; in Lan Yu’s view, facing ten thousand Northern Yuan cavalry, the Ming army should have lost—revising tactics was the only sensible course.

Yet precisely when Lan Yu thought this, Guo Ying’s military order arrived.

Had Guo Ying’s handwritten order and detailed battle report not been laid before him, Lan Yu could never have believed it.

Ten thousand Northern Yuan cavalry had been shattered!

Under Zhu Ying’s command, they were crushed; Zhu Ying slew countless enemies and captured innumerable prisoners.

This result left Lan Yu stunned into silence—he knew such a feat was impossible for him.

“Sigh...”

Lan Yu let out a long breath, filled with helplessness and awe: “Zhu Ying... is no ordinary man.”

At this moment,

Lan Yu could not help but utter this sigh in his heart.

Though he still disliked Zhu Ying, filled with hostility,

as a fellow military commander, deep inside, he could not help but admire Zhu Ying’s extraordinary command ability.

After a moment passed,

Lan Yu slowly came back to himself, his gaze sweeping over the generals in the tent, his expression regaining some composure as he said sternly: “Generals, the Northern Yuan cavalry has been shattered.”

“Now, our assault on the city will no longer face threat from Northern Yuan cavalry raids.”

“Grand General has ordered: launch full-scale assault on the city.”

“At that time, the second army will fully coordinate to break the surrounding guard battalions of the Yuan capital.”

As his voice fell,

“We obey the order!”

All generals responded in unison, following command.

As for the shock brought by the battle report, many commanders silently buried it deep within.

“Enough. Go prepare,” Lan Yu waved his hand, unwilling to say more.

Afterwards,

The generals all withdrew from the tent.

But Lan Yu’s gaze remained fixed on the military order in his hand, still lost in the unimaginable battle report.

“Northern Yuan cavalry shattered.”

“Next, the obstacles may be minimal.”

“The Northern Yuan seems to have reached its final hour.”

As Lan Yu deeply pondered the battlefield situation,

“Uncle.”

Chang Mao’s voice suddenly rang beside Lan Yu, urgent and confused: “Tell me—what kind of man or demon is Zhu Ying? How did he do it?”

This sudden voice jolted Lan Yu—he snapped back from his thoughts.

He looked up, bewildered, startled, at Chang Mao still standing in the tent, frowning: “Why haven’t you left?”

Lan Yu glanced around the tent—once filled with generals, now only Chang Mao remained, standing right before him.

“Uncle,” Chang Mao stepped forward, face filled with worry: “I originally planned to seize the northern campaign’s greatest merit, restoring Huaixi’s prestige at court.”

“But now, months into the campaign, though our army has won many victories, compared to Li Jinglong’s second army, compared to Zhu Ying’s achievements, our merits have been completely overshadowed.”

“After this battle, can Uncle really be granted the title of Duke?”

Chang Mao knew his uncle’s heart well—unlike his own hereditary dukedom, most Huaixi generals followed Lan Yu, yet Lan Yu had long held the rank of Marquis, yearning to rise further to Duke.

But now, though Lan Yu led his army forward steadily, he had yet to secure merit of sufficient weight.

Even the merit of breaking the city came from Li Jinglong’s second army breaking through first, triggering the Northern Yuan’s retreat.

In short,

Lan Yu’s first army had benefited greatly from the second army’s success.

Hearing Chang Mao’s words,

Lan Yu’s face instantly flushed with anger—as if his sore point had been pierced.

But then,

The anger dissolved into a helpless, bitter smile: “Even so, what can I do?”

“Can I kill Zhu Ying?”

“With Zhu Ying’s current status and his famed Bawangzhili , even if you surround him with a thousand troops, you still couldn’t kill him.”

“And if Zhu Ying were to die, do you think the Emperor wouldn’t investigate?”

Lan Yu snapped at Chang Mao, his inner frustration growing heavier.

Kill Zhu Ying?

Many had thought of it during the Liaodong campaign.

But who could do it?

Moreover,

If anyone dared act, it would be the height of stupidity—suicide.

Do you really think the Emperor’s Embroidered Uniform Guard doesn’t exist?

“Then what do we do? This northern campaign determines Uncle’s promotion to Duke—can’t let that brat ruin it!”

Chang Mao pleaded, brows knotted, eyes brimming with resentment.

He truly worried for Lan Yu.

“Sigh!”

Lan Yu sighed again, his body slumping as if drained, leaning back helplessly in his chair: “The Crown Prince said, as long as we achieve merit in this northern campaign, he will guarantee my promotion to Duke!”

“I originally hoped to earn great merit, so my dukedom would be deserved, and not disappoint the Crown Prince.”

“But now, it’s clear I’ll be overshadowed by Zhu Ying.”

“Enough!”

“We’ll take it one step at a time. His command ability is this strong—perhaps I truly am inferior.”

“From now on, avoid him as much as possible. He’s already fully grown—he’s beyond our control.”

“And the Emperor favors him more, to counterbalance Huaixi. I know his intent, but I’m powerless.”

Hearing this,

Chang Mao’s face darkened, filled with resentment, his mouth opening as if to speak—but he closed it again, equally helpless.

Yuan Capital, Northern Yuan Imperial Council Hall!

“Report!”

A shrill cry shattered the previously calm atmosphere of the court.

“Your Majesty, disaster!”

A messenger, pale and trembling, stumbled into the hall, fell to his knees with a thud, voice quaking: “The Grand General... the Grand General is dead!”

These words struck like thunder, instantly exploding the Northern Yuan court.

Shattering the court’s stillness.

For some time, the Northern Yuan had layered defenses, dispatched ten thousand cavalry to attack the Ming, and stationed over three hundred thousand infantry to guard key guard battalions, making the Yuan capital appear utterly secure.

Even the anxious Yuan Emperor had momentarily relaxed his taut nerves.

Even the anxious Emperor Yuan temporarily relaxed his tense nerves.

I thought crushing the Ming army was certain!

But now, this sudden urgent report shattered all calm in an instant.

The Yuan Emperor, seated on the dragon throne, turned pale—his terror even greater than when he heard his son Depu’s death.

He leapt to his feet, gripping the armrests of the throne so tightly his knuckles bulged with veins, staring fixedly at the kneeling messenger, his voice hoarse with panic and shock: “You… what did you say? Say it again!”

“Your Majesty,” the messenger trembled violently, nearly collapsing to the ground: “The Grand General… is dead.”

“Our ten thousand iron cavalry have suffered catastrophic losses and have been crushed by the Ming army.”

“According to the Third Prince’s report, fewer than twenty thousand of our ten thousand iron cavalry returned to the guard city, and most were wounded.”

The messenger’s voice, thick with unspeakable dread, echoed through the imperial council hall.

Each of these words struck like a sledgehammer, slamming into the hearts of the Northern Yuan ministers.

Upon hearing this,

every single Northern Yuan civil and military official changed color.

The court erupted in chaos; ministers whispered to one another, faces filled with shock and dread.

At this moment, the situation had utterly surpassed their expectations.

“How could this be? How could this happen?”

The Yuan Emperor now stood frozen, expression stiff, stumbling on his feet, as if he might collapse at any moment.

“My ten thousand iron cavalry—these are the finest troops of the Great Yuan! How could the Ming army possibly defeat them?”

The Emperor’s voice carried a note of despair.

Clearly,

he refused to believe this truth, and could not accept such a catastrophic defeat.

“Your Majesty,” Shi Liemeng stepped forward immediately, calm and resolute: “There must be some reason behind this.”

“Do not be overly alarmed. Our Yuan iron cavalry are unmatched under heaven—the Ming army could never be their match.”

“Moreover, the Grand General chose the Imperial Pasture as the battlefield—perfect terrain for our iron cavalry to charge, unstoppable. No matter how formidable the Ming army, they could never prevail.”

Shi Liemeng spoke these words to soothe the Emperor—and to offer himself and the court a sliver of comfort.

Upon hearing this,

the Emperor slowly came to his senses, grasping it like a lifeline, hope flickering in his eyes: “That’s right, Chancellor, you’re correct.”

“How could my ten thousand Northern Yuan iron cavalry suffer such a rout?”

“Even if the Ming army had a thousand cannons, they could never stand against our iron cavalry.”

As he spoke, the Emperor seemed to be constructing excuses, trying to convince himself none of this was real.

Regaining his composure,

the Emperor turned sharply to the messenger, eyes filled with desperate hope, as if begging for a different answer: “Tell me—this news is false.”

“Your Majesty.”

The messenger trembled, struggling to speak: “This urgent report is true. It was delivered personally by the Third Prince and confirmed by countless cavalrymen who escaped back to the guard city.”

“Zhu Ying—that Ming general, Zhu Ying—killed the Grand General with his own hands.”

“Moreover, our ten thousand Northern Yuan iron cavalry did not fall solely from frontal assault. The Ming army had laid an ambush, deploying a specialized formation designed to neutralize our cavalry, trapping nearly half our horsemen within it.”

“Finally, the Ming general Zhu Ying led his cavalry against the Grand General, shattered our forces in open battle, and personally slew the Grand General.”

The messenger kept his head bowed, voice growing fainter—he dared not raise his eyes, fearing the enraged Emperor would kill him on the spot.

“Ambush formation? Frontal annihilation?”

The Emperor’s face turned deathly pale, as if all strength had been drained from him.

Thud.

He collapsed onto the dragon throne, eyes vacant, muttering to himself: “Impossible… this cannot be…”

He screamed in near madness, voice hoarse with despair and fury.

“Your Majesty, calm yourself!”

The court officials shouted in unison, falling to their knees in perfect unison, hoping to quell the Emperor’s rage.

In this moment!

An oppressive silence swept through the entire hall, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

“Chancellor, Grand Marshal,”

the Emperor’s eyes burned red, fixed on Shi Liemeng and Manzi, voice trembling: “Tell me—how could we lose? This is impossible!”

“Your Majesty!”

Shi Liemeng stepped forward immediately, bowing respectfully: “The Ming army is treacherous—they must have used deceit and trickery to defeat our iron cavalry.”

“But Your Majesty need not panic. Even if our cavalry has fallen, we still hold several guard cities and dozens of thousands of troops.”

“Our Yuan warriors will swear to protect Your Majesty and defend the Great Yuan.”

Shi Liemeng’s voice was firm and strong, striving to restore the Emperor’s confidence.

“The Ming army has seized our ten strongest border cities.”

“Our most elite force—the ten thousand iron cavalry capable of sweeping the world—has been shattered by the Ming army.”

“Can our remaining troops truly stop them?”

The Emperor was now visibly shaken, his eyes filled with confusion and terror, his future brimming with dread.

“Your Majesty, rest assured—our Yuan warriors will defend the Great Yuan and protect you.”

Shi Liemeng declared again, demonstrating his loyalty.

“Your Majesty.”

Manzi stepped forward, solemn and loud: “I repeat: our Yuan territory must not be lost—but Your Majesty’s safety is paramount.”

“Now that our iron cavalry has been defeated, it is clear the Ming army is formidable.”

“Their intent is unmistakable: to destroy our Yuan court and kill Your Majesty.”

“For the prosperity and survival of the Great Yuan, I beg Your Majesty to return to our ancestral homeland at once.”

“Only then can we maneuver with flexibility.”

“Even if the capital falls, Your Majesty’s safety will be preserved.”

Manzi’s words were heavy with concern—he understood the gravity of the situation and hoped the Emperor would act for the greater good.

And to preserve the very foundation of the Yuan court.

If the Emperor perished, the Northern Yuan would truly be finished.

This time, unlike when he first proposed it, the Emperor was beginning to consider it.

Yet,

his eyes still held hesitation. Though he did not wish to abandon this luxurious city, the thought of his own safety made departure seem less unbearable.

Recalling Guili Chi’s former glory when commanding troops, now slain by a Ming general, his ten thousand cavalry annihilated—the Emperor felt not only anguish, but profound terror.

Just as the Emperor was about to speak and agree to Manzi’s proposal to retreat to the ancestral homeland,

“Your Majesty, absolutely not!”

A minister immediately stepped forward, solemnly opposing.

This man was Guili Chi’s eldest son, the chief heir of Guili Chi’s tribe: Ma Erke’er.

Now that Guili Chi was dead, he was almost certain to inherit control of the tribe.

“My father died for the Great Yuan, slain by a Ming general.”

“He gave his life for the Great Yuan, to protect Your Majesty.”

“If Your Majesty flees to the ancestral homeland, it will demoralize the countless warriors guarding the guard cities—and destroy the very foundation of the Great Yuan.”

“Your Majesty is the Emperor of the Great Yuan, the pillar of our warriors.”

“Unless the guard cities truly fall and the capital is in imminent danger, Your Majesty must not retreat—otherwise, our troops’ morale will collapse, and the Great Yuan will surely be swallowed by the Ming.”

Ma Erke’er spoke with solemn conviction, his voice loud and unwavering.

It sounded

as if his words were filled with loyalty to the Yuan court.

But more than that, he wanted the Emperor to remain in the capital.

“I second that!”

“Your Majesty, please reconsider!”

“Your Majesty must not retreat to the ancestral homeland!”

“For the eternal stability of the Great Yuan, Your Majesty must remain in the capital—we will fight the Ming army to the death!”

…

Immediately after Ma Erke’er’s words, one Northern Yuan minister after another rose to oppose, their voices rising and falling across the hall, declaring their stance and resolve.

Though it was unclear how much of it was genuine.

This scene mirrored exactly what had happened when Guili Chi first proposed retreat.

“This…”

The Emperor, who had just been leaning toward retreat, now hesitated again.

His eyes were filled with conflict—on one hand, fear for his own safety; on the other, concern over his ministers’ words.

If his retreat truly crushed the army’s morale, it would push the Great Yuan into even greater peril.

Moreover, the Emperor truly did not wish to reside long-term in some remote ancestral land.

“If Your Majesty perishes, that is when the Great Yuan will truly collapse.”

"What you all care about is merely the interests of your own tribes."

"At this very moment, do you truly intend to let the Ming state swallow our Great Yuan?"

Seeing most of the court ministers step forward in opposition, the barbarian roared in fury.

His face flushed crimson, his eyes blazing with rage, furious at the ministers' actions.

But this did not frighten them at all.

"Grand Marshal."

Ma Er Ke Er turned his head and coldly said to Man Zi: "My father died on the battlefield for Great Yuan—surely that is not loyalty enough?"

Ma Er Ke Er’s anger flared as he invoked his dead father, his gaze unwavering as he stared down Man Zi, seizing the upper hand.

Many of Gui Li Chi’s former subordinates glared angrily at Man Zi; a strange, tense atmosphere instantly filled the court, as if about to explode.

Faced with this rebuttal, Man Zi’s expression changed, and he fell silent, unable to counter.

After all, Gui Li Chi had truly died—that was an unchangeable fact.

Although Man Zi knew from his understanding of Gui Li Chi that he could never have lost his life, death was death regardless.

"Grand Marshal, let it go."

The Yuan Emperor sighed, his face weary, and said gravely: "As Emperor of Great Yuan, I must stand with the sons of Great Yuan."

"Let us set aside the proposal to return to our ancestral lands—for now."

The Yuan Emperor’s voice carried a hint of resignation and compromise; in the end, he chose to yield to the majority of ministers.

After all,

If they truly retreated,

The entire court’s spirit would shatter.

The troops gathered from each tribe would become a joke, no longer willing to hold their ground.

The Yuan Emperor knew this well.

"Your Majesty is wise!"

Ma Er Ke Er immediately knelt and bowed, a faint, barely noticeable look of triumph crossing his face.

"Your Majesty is wise!"

Many ministers followed suit, kneeling in unison and chanting in unison, their voices echoing throughout the court.

It seemed as if the Yuan Emperor were truly supremely wise!

But Man Zi, watching this scene, wore a look of deep helplessness.

He lowered his head slightly, sighing inwardly—he had seen through the situation. If the Yuan Emperor remained, the consequences would be unpredictable.

Yet the ministers in court each had their own agendas; even though he perceived the danger, he was powerless to change it.

"Father, rest easy."

In Ma Er Ke Er’s eyes as he knelt, a gleam of ambition flashed—he silently swore to himself: "I will fulfill your wish, Father."

…

The capital of Great Ming: Yingtian City.

At the city gates, the scene remained bustling and lively.

Sunlight spilled across the ground, casting a golden glow over the prosperous capital.

Citizens came and went—some carrying loads on poles, others pushing carts—lined up orderly to enter the city.

On their faces: some showed exhaustion, some hope, others a quiet satisfaction with life.

After all, this was the capital of Great Ming—opportunities were endless.

And just then,

"Trot-trot, trot-trot-trot..."

A rapid clatter of hooves echoed from the road outside the city, drawing nearer.

The sound was like a drumbeat, urgent and insistent.

Many people paused their actions, curiously turning toward the road outside the gate.

Three swift riders galloped toward Yingtian City.

The soldiers on horseback wore focused expressions.

Behind each of them, a banner fluttered loudly in the wind.

And behind each rider, a mounted warhorse was led—empty, riderless.

Clearly!

They had changed horses at relay stations along the way, racing to deliver their message at maximum speed.

"Urgent report to the capital—clear the way!"

The Battalion Commander on guard at the gate shouted loudly.

His voice spread instantly across the gate.

Instantly,

The previously crowded entrance lane was swiftly cleared.

The gate guards sprang into action, holding spears to maintain order and barring anyone from entering the emergency passage.

As the three riders neared the gate, they all shouted together: "Great Victory in the Northern Campaign!"

"Great Victory in the Northern Campaign!"

Their voices rang high and proud, filled with joy and triumph.

Though they rode hard, the cry of victory spread ahead of them.

Hearing it, the citizens waiting outside and those within the city all wore smiles.

"Great Victory in the Northern Campaign? If it’s called a 'great' victory, the gains must be massive. Do you think the Northern Yuan Emperor was captured?" a young man exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

"Impossible. Even weakened, the Northern Yuan is still a major power—tens of millions of people. They couldn’t be crushed so easily," said an older man, shaking his head.

"I agree. The Northern Yuan isn’t that easy to defeat."

"Probably slaughtered many of their troops and captured several cities," someone else added.

"As subjects of Great Ming, wiping out those barbarians is the only way. You don’t know how cruel they were before," an old man clenched his fist, a flash of hatred in his eyes.

"That’s right—Great Ming will triumph, and we will destroy the Northern Yuan..."

Many citizens began discussing, their voices intertwining, brimming with anticipation for the Northern Yuan’s fall.

And now!

The three riders’ urgent report had entered the Yingtian Imperial Palace.

One courier held an urgent report bamboo tube.

Another carried a wooden box; the third held a sword.

They hurried toward the Fengtian Hall.

…

(End of Chapter)