The Jurchen tribes were extremely mixed, and the number of tribes was not one hundred but eighty. There are so many people who want to unify the Jurchens, why has Nurhachi succeeded in hundreds of years? There's a reason for that.

In a slave society, the pressure from the rulers was always from hostile forces from without, and it was difficult for internal forces to threaten them. Because of the high concentration of power, for hundreds of years, the Jurchen leaders did not think about how to integrate and improve the internal forces - including the subordinates at the middle level and the slaves at the bottom. Nurhachi was the first to do so.

Power is not granted from superiors, but from subordinate obedience. Not everyone understands this.

In the "Manchu Old Files", it is recorded that many small Jurchen tribes and even Mongols traveled thousands of miles to the Jianzhou Department, and four of the five ministers who made great contributions to Nurhachi in the early days were considered outsiders. The Great Khan of the State Ministry used discipline and favor to gather strength, and only then did he grow stronger in decades of war.

Today, He Zhuo led his troops to attack the steppe, and the Mongols' scattered sand problems were exposed after suffering two severe blows. Only more than 2,000 people died, more than 100,000 horses, and tens of thousands of young people were helpless. After the stunned force at the beginning was forcibly beaten, no one was willing to go up and die. And at this critical time, the 30,000 Jurchen army brought by Amin can be top.

The Jianzhou Jurchens are good at infantry and are neatly arrayed. More than half of their firearms were equipped with more than half of their training, and their training was far better than that of the 'Tianyou' army of Han Chinese slaves. When they went into battle, there was obvious pressure on the Wehrmacht and militia on the opposite side.

At a distance of five hundred meters, the battalion artillery of the Wehrmacht began to fire solid shells. In the sound of the cannon, the shot put shot made a beautiful ricochet path on the flat grassland. The projectiles seemed to be floating on the surface of the water, and a single fall together could cause many casualties.

Lu Xiangsheng had just fired a few shots with an arquebus, and felt that he had killed a few Tartars, and he could be regarded as having experienced a battle. He was proud in his heart, so he despised this war, and felt that fighting a war was nothing more than that—the alien races in the north were not terrible, and a group of militia could be cleaned up with three or two strokes.

Because of his good performance, Lu Xiangsheng was sent to work as a porter for an artillery crew, mainly to help carry artillery shells. Because according to the regulations, it is not allowed to store too many shells on the gun position. Basically, how much to use, how much to move, and it is strictly forbidden to pile shells on the gun emplacement.

The battalion artillery used fixed ammunition, with two rounds in a wooden box. Lu Xiangsheng squatted beside the ammunition truck behind him and watched, and through the improvised gun emplacement, he could see the Jurchens who were advancing a few hundred meters away. When you see your own shells flying in the enemy's ranks, you can see the stumps and broken arms flying into the sky even from a distance of several hundred meters.

And the Jurchens continued to line up as if nothing had happened. Neither fast nor slow, he has always maintained a steady pace, and Lu Xiangsheng was stunned by this on the spot. Just now, the Mongols rode horses and charged, which can be said to be unable to stop the momentum, or it can be said that the momentum has risen regardless of life and death. But the slow queue in front of him is really indifferent to life and death.

"They ......, how can they do this?" Lu Xiangsheng was stunned. He looked around, hoping someone would answer. But there were also migrant workers around, and they were no longer afraid of the Mongols' rush and killing, but the Jurchens' slow pace of moving forward frightened them. Lu Xiangsheng continued to shout: "Are these still people? Aren't they afraid? It can't be a puppet. ”

Lu Xiangsheng could be flustered by the sound of the shelling behind the artillery, and he felt that if he faced the shelling directly, he would turn around and run away at the first time. But no one answered his questions, only the guns on the gun emplacements kept rumbling.

Zilharang, who was commanding a thousand-man team, stared nervously and excitedly ahead. The Dutch taught this 'line to shoot' tactic by emphasizing discipline and using formulas to indicate how much fire would kill at what distance, and finally came to the conclusion that if the enemy had how many guns, how many guns, and how far away, how many people would have died.

The numbers are cold, but the pressure of facing the artillery is real.

Zilharang had just been a hero in front of his brother, but now that he had really led the team, he found that the cannon in the distance had brought him tremendous mental pressure. The Dutch instructor said that a few people could die far away - but in the face of artillery, this death was a complete gamble.

The stress of the ordinary Jurchen soldiers can be relieved by the accompanying shamanic priests, whose minds are as stiff as stones in the sound of prayer, completely unmoved by death. But Zilharang's pressure was on his own, and he was already trembling a little, and his bladder was filled with urine.

Zilharan prayed to the Trinity's mortal Pope Boar Skin for help. He did get help, and the entire array of 1,000 people lit up to stabilize the formation and provide defense. But this bit of defense was useless against the shells, and the cannon in the distance could still kill several people each time it fired.

It's scary not to know who the next shell will kill?

Zilharang was still young, and he expected a vigorous war, not this death-waiting bet on the probability of being shot. He deliberately chose an attack surface with only one enemy artillery, but he was still hit by that cannon and had a nervous breakdown.

"Speed up." Zilharang couldn't help but give this order, his face flushed and his breath was short. If he continues to walk slowly and methodically like this, even if he is not killed, he will be overwhelmed by psychological pressure. The thousand-man team immediately increased almost twice the speed under his command, from the original marching in unison to trotting.

And Zilharang's order also had a chain reaction, because no one could stop him, and the other Jurchen officers of the Thousand Men could only follow. After all, he is not the only one who is under pressure, and everyone hates to hurry up and start fighting. When one person breaks the rules and is not corrected, the rules quickly do not exist.

Soon Zilharang gave another order, "Increase the distance between the queues." ”

Small strides increase the speed, but they also disrupt the formation. However, it is not without its benefits that it reduces the amount of time spent under fire. But if they ran fast, the Jurchens' thousand-man team entered the range of 300 meters of the artillery one by one, and the solid bullets on the opposite side were immediately replaced by chain bullets that could spin in the air.

A chain bullet flew over, breaking the waist of four or five Jurchen soldiers. There was a commotion in the mood of the soldiers, who had remained steady, and the shaman priests behind them were frightened. The blood thrown out of the chain bullet spilled onto Zilharang's body, and the young Jurchen nobleman was even more mad. So he asked for more spacing in the queue so that there would be fewer dead people.

"Master, it's okay if the queue is big." A Jurchen veteran couldn't help but come to advise, "The Great Khan used to lead us to fight, and he had to line up in a dense line. If the procession is dispersed, it will not kill anyone, but will be killed. ”

The chain bullet just now made Zilharang sweat nervously, and he also knew that the queue would lead to failure, but the queue was too dense, and the artillery on the opposite side was cool. He didn't care about the old soldier, but shouted again: "Rush up, rush up and line up again." ”

The Jurchen old soldier couldn't stop him if he wanted to, so he could only hold an iron spear and follow the charge. He also shouted, "Wrong, wrong." That's not how the battle is fought. Since we are afraid of the Han artillery, we can't rush like this. This start was doomed to lose. ”

After the Jurchen infantry entered the 150-meter formation, the Wehrmacht artillery was simply replaced with canned shotguns. Although the formation on the opposite side was much looser, a single shotgun could still easily kill a piece of Jurchen foot soldiers.

The shouting old pawn rushed through the ranks, and a rain of bullets sprayed over, knocking him to the ground on the spot, covered in blood and water, unable to move. He cried to the death, 'This is not how the battle is fought, we will die in vain.' ’

Zilharang felt that he had done the right thing, and he led his team of 1,000 people all the way from a few hundred meters away to a distance of 100 meters from the Han army. The terrain on the grassland was flat, and it took about three minutes during this period, which is considered very fast. The cannon on the opposite side fired more than a dozen shells, especially after the distance was closer, and it fired three or four shells in one go.

"Fortunately, fortunately, I ordered to spread out the formation and run over quickly." Zilharang felt that if he hadn't ordered to speed up on the spot, he didn't know how many shells he would have suffered. Although the loss is not small now, it is only sixty or seventy. The morale of the Jurchen infantry formation is still there, and they are already able to start shooting.

"Queue, queue!" Zilharang finally knew that the platoon gun was to line up, otherwise it would not kill many people if it dispersed. He especially hated the cannon opposite, and pointed his knife at the gun emplacement of the Han artillery. It was a makeshift gun emplacement, unobstructed, and a good target for fire. "Aim at that cannon and aim at it."

The Jurchen foot men with arquebuses hurriedly began to line up, but when Zilharang gave the order to fire, he found that all the musketeers on whom he had high hopes were reloading the gunpowder—not to mention the wind blowing on the steppe, and the ignition on the arquebus had long since been turned upside down by trotting all the way. It is impossible to reload in advance.

When this race against time didn't go off, Zilharang didn't know who to scold, and if he wanted to scold, he would scold himself, and he ordered him to run up. Not only did he run up by himself, but he also ran up with a number of Jurchen thousand-person teams nearby, and as a result, everyone had to reorganize and load gunpowder when they ran up. It's just a little bit of work, but it takes time!

At this moment, the Wehrmacht on the opposite side opened fire first.

As the formation of Jiannu's infantry began to concentrate, the gunners of the flintlock pistols began to aim. When the opposite side lowered its head to reload gunpowder, the rows of guns spewed flames and white smoke. A series of gunshots sounded, and a group of people fell in the Jurchen infantry formation, which had finally finished the formation.

Zilharang stood in the second row, feeling that he was already brave. Just as he was waiting for his men to pack the ignition powder, his eyes suddenly lit up, and one of the musketers standing in front of him fell limply. He didn't know why, so he hurriedly stood in a row again, and was about to raise the scimitar in his hand again.

As a result, the knife still did not fall, and there was another volley of guns on the opposite side, and the firecracker in front of Zilharang was shot and fell down with a snap. This distance of 100 meters has not yet reached the optimal range of arquebuses. Zilharang couldn't hold back at all to fight a wave to improve morale, but now his morale has not improved, but people have fallen a lot.

Twice in a row by the Wehrmacht, Zilharan could not wait any longer. He didn't retreat either, but angrily waved down his scimitar and shouted, "Hit it if it's loaded." ”

Bang bang bang......

The two sides of the duel fired a wave of projectiles at the same time, and Zilharang was full of hope that the Han people on the opposite side could also taste their own strength. But after the gunshot, he felt like he had been hammered to the chest, as if someone had hit him hard with a mace. His face turned pale, and he sat down with a plop, and the strength in his body began to dissipate.

"I was hit? I am a master, I am a nobleman, and I am the head of these thousands. This bullet is really not long-sighted, how could it hit me so quickly? ”