Late Ming Dynasty capitalists
"Fire!" Jibudil roared. He then fired his rifle first. With a bang, it struck the horse Liu Zongmin was riding. The horse shuddered, then continued charging forward.
Jibudil's men were armed with muzzle-loading arquebuses, obsolete from Tang Tong's army. Liang Shangtong's subordinates were now armed with muskets. Jibudil, as the battalion commander, also possessed a musket. After Jibudil's shot, Liu Zongmin rode forward another thirty paces, seemingly about to charge the enemy camp. A cruel smile played upon Zongmin's face, but it quickly faded.
A burst of gunfire rang out. Dozens of guns fired at Liu Zongmin, instantly turning him into a hornet's nest. Liu Zongmin, riding his horse, ran forward a dozen or so steps under the influence of inertia. Finally, he collapsed about ten steps away from Jibudil and the others. The black iron hammer in his hand landed on the ground, rolled several times, and then came to a stop. It swung a few times in its original position. Not far away, Liu Zongmin looked up at the sky, his eyes wide and lifeless, staring at the white clouds in the sky.
The two men following Liu Zongmin watched as Liu Zongmin and his horse continued to twitch. A wave of grief washed over them. They followed Liu Zongmin without stopping, charging towards Jibudil and his men. In this situation where survival was clearly impossible, they could only fight with all their remaining strength. This time, Jibudil and his men did not fire again. Dozens of them, swords drawn, charged at the two men. Although these two men were among the elite of Zicheng's men, their long escape had left them somewhat exhausted.
The two men died quickly under the sword. As they fell, Liu Zongmin's convulsions continued. One of Jitir's men rushed forward and chopped off Liu Zongmin's head, intending to present it to Jibudir. Glancing at Liu Zongmin's eyes, which were still open in death, Jibudir sighed and said to the man, "Bury these three men. After all, they were brave men. Let them rest in peace according to Ming custom."
As Zicheng watched his pursuers gradually lose sight of him, he felt a small sense of relief. After all, this was the vast Taihang Mountains. If he could escape their pursuit, finding him again wouldn't be easy. He had seen his men die one after another along the way. Even Liu Zongmin, his trusted confidant, had finally abandoned him. A wave of rage flared within Zicheng.
But after this rage ignited, Zicheng felt a wave of despair and desolation. He had worked so hard all these years, thinking he could secure a place in the world. But after all his hard work, he'd come up empty-handed. Listening to his own panting after a long run, Zicheng felt a slight daze and a sense of daze. The events of the past few years flooded back to his mind, one by one. People he'd once known but now forgotten came to mind one by one.
He joined Gao Yingxiang in the rebellion and gradually became a powerful general under Gao Chuang Wang. After Gao Yingxiang's death, his rebel army split with Zhang Xianjiang's. He supported the Tang Dynasty leader and occupied Henan, proclaiming himself king. He later established the Dashun Dynasty and ascended the throne as His Majesty the Emperor. He was once a peasant, a mere peasant seeking a way out, and ultimately became the emperor of a nation. Although this nation was small and its founding was short, he certainly didn't disgrace his ancestors. If you knew, you would be proud of your ancestors.
Zicheng gasped. All the events of his life, from childhood to adulthood, surfaced in his mind one by one. It was a very unpleasant feeling. It was like a person nearing the end of his life, looking back on his life for the last time. His parents, brothers, sisters, and friends. Their long-fuzzy memories became clear again at this moment. So many things. So many people. He should have forgotten them. But at this moment, it seemed as if they had just happened before his eyes. Zicheng thought about it and suddenly laughed at himself. He could hear his breathing getting heavier. He felt his legs getting heavier as he ran, as if there were heavy iron blocks tied to his legs. The air in his chest felt hotter and hotter, and gradually it felt like a burning fire.
Amidst this burning feeling, Zicheng suddenly thought of his favorite concubines. Their beautiful faces ignited another kind of heat in his heart. He thought of his magnificent palace. He thought of the concubines he had finally abandoned. He thought of the women he favored. Perhaps they were moaning in the arms of the man they had left behind. Thinking of this, Zicheng's face twitched a few times. His eyes showed a look of pain that shouldn't have appeared in him.
Bang. A gunshot awoke Zicheng from his dizziness. He felt a burning pain in his shoulder. This sensation made him realize he had been shot. He turned around and saw that a dozen men in light gray clothing had suddenly followed him. Each of them was armed with a gun, and they were running at an extremely fast speed. They all looked incredibly tough.
Zicheng had never seen anyone in such uniforms before. But he knew in his heart that these men must be the Tang prince who wanted him dead. Moreover, they appeared to be the most elite soldiers under the Tang prince. Zicheng's guess was correct. These men were indeed Tang Tong's most elite soldiers. They were Tang Tong's special forces. This time, to prevent Zicheng from escaping, Zicheng not only mobilized over 10,000 cavalrymen to hunt him down, but also used his own special forces.
This small special forces team followed the trail of the Djibouti flare. Their superior physical strength meant that although they arrived later than the cavalry and couldn't ride on horseback on the mountain road, they quickly caught up with Zicheng and his group. Following the first gunshot, more than a dozen more rang out. Zicheng was quick to roll over, but several of Zicheng's men were not spared, falling to the ground after being shot. The rifles these special forces soldiers carried were Tang Tong's most advanced weapons, with the longest range. They were also very skilled marksmen. Zicheng was lucky to have only been shot in the shoulder.
Zicheng waited until the gunfire had finished. Based on experience, there was a safe window of time. So, Zicheng and his men immediately scrambled to their feet and ran forward. They had only taken a dozen steps when a second round of gunfire rang out. This time, even more men fell. Zicheng was unlucky this time. He was shot once in the waist and once in the back. The feeling of the bullets piercing his body made him feel suffocated for a moment. All his strength seemed to rapidly disappear.
One of Zicheng's men saw him falling to the ground. He quickly grabbed him and then, with a single hand, carried him to his back. Another shouted, "Oh no! Your Majesty has been shot. Everyone, protect your Majesty!"
At this moment, Zicheng felt dizzy. Hearing the man's shout, he couldn't help but curse the idiot in his heart. Wasn't this telling the other party that he was in a serious situation? But at this time, Zicheng no longer had the energy to curse anyone. He lay on the man's back. The pain from the injured side made his consciousness more and more confused. Zicheng didn't know. The subordinate who had just been trying to protect him, after shouting those words, suddenly rolled down a slope and fled alone along a creek. The pursuers behind him ignored the fleeing man and just chased Zicheng and his men relentlessly. After the third round of gunfire, several more of Zicheng's men fell.
At this moment, a dozen of Tang Tong's men suddenly turned and charged at the pursuers, hoping to buy Tang Tong some time to escape. Unfortunately, Tang Tong's special forces had undergone rigorous training. Despite their excellent physical strength and close combat skills, their marksmanship was generally quite good. However, in the face of bullets, Tang Tong's men, no matter how skilled they were in close combat, were no match for the bullets. As the dozen or so men approached, they were quickly shot down.
Zicheng was in a daze. He heard the sound of gunfire. It sounded closer and closer. A sudden feeling of deep sorrow washed over him. He thought of himself as a hero, only to end up fleeing in such a desperate situation. He had no idea that what he had just thought about would be the last thing he would ever see. Another volley of gunfire rang out. Zicheng had no idea how many of his men had fallen. In his daze, he heard the heavy breathing of the man carrying him on his back.
It was the gasping sound of a dying struggle. Zicheng could sense the pain contained in his subordinate's gasps. It was pain both physical and spiritual. Zicheng could also sense the decreasing pace of the man carrying him. He knew this death struggle had reached its final stage. The last bit of strength. The last bit of pain. And finally, the last bit of life. The last bit of life's experience in this world.
The gunfire from behind stopped. In a daze, Zicheng seemed to feel as if he was alone beside the person carrying him. The mountain breeze rustled in his ears. After the gunfire stopped, the gentle humming of the mountain wind was surprisingly beautiful, like a song. A Shaanxi Xintianyou.
Zicheng laughed, and the hazy feeling gradually faded away with that smile.
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