Chapter 108: Shaobing Song "Demon method!"
The Meng Yuan soldiers on the pontoon shouted and squeezed towards the bridge ends on both sides with all their strength.
However, the narrow bridge deck and the dense number of people once again limited their movement speed and range.
Almost helplessly, they watched the red scarf soldiers on the big ship pour two bags of black stuff into the dragon's eyes one after another, then picked up a thick wooden stick and pounded it inside a few times, and then , began to slowly adjust the bow.
Turn, turn, the heavy grain boat slowly turned against the current.
Every inch of movement takes as long as ten thousand years.
The Mongolian and Goryeo soldiers, who were blocked by their own robes on the bridge, leaned back and swung their bodies left and right, trying their best to avoid the dragon's eyes.
Even if it means squeezing the accomplices around him into the water and drowning, he will not hesitate.
Ten thousand years will eventually come to an end.
After adjusting the angle to the lower left by about one-eighth of a circle, the faucet finally stopped again.
Immediately afterwards, his left eye flashed suddenly, and he sprayed more than a hundred projectiles onto the bridge deck again.
"Ah" the Mongolian soldier who was hit let out a shrill wail.
Those who were lucky enough not to be affected by the projectiles actually let out a sigh of relief.
"Boom", before they could exhale all the air in their mouths, the dragon's right eye flashed again, and more than a hundred projectiles were fired, smashing into a sieve the dozen or so Mongolian soldiers facing the direction of the dragon's head.
The ship began to move again, as clumsily as before.
Under the strange firelight, a dozen Red Turban soldiers were running around near the dragon head.
Their movements are slow, almost as clumsy as dragons.
However, the Mongolian soldiers on the pontoon no longer had the courage to wait for the next flash of the dragon's eye.
Or he could raise his machete and chop at the Korean servants standing in front of him.
Or just jump into the Yellow River and leave your fate to the rolling torrent.
"Don't run, don't run.
Keep crossing the river, keep crossing the river."
The deputy commander made Kuo Mao wave his steel knife, blocked the south side of the pontoon, and chopped down the Mongolian and Yuan soldiers who were retreating in panic one by one.
A long spear came over from the side and blocked his blade.
Another shield pushed hard on his stomach, pushing him staggering.
Several short and stout Mongolian warriors were pushed by the accomplices behind him, collided with him, and knocked him to the ground.
Immediately afterwards, hundreds of pairs of big feet stepped on his chest, each pair without hesitation.
"My lord, my lord, my lord, my lord has fallen.
Don't squeeze.
Don't squeeze.
My lord, my lord, has fallen."
The wealthy soldiers rushed forward to rescue them, but they were knocked around by the flow of people.
The strange big boat on the river made everyone lose their courage.
I'm afraid that if I hide a little slower, I'll become Longan's next "favored" target.
"Red Scarf Army, Red Scarf Army" someone exclaimed, quickly spreading fear into everyone's hearts.
A team carrying torches suddenly came out from somewhere on the south bank.
The scale is as big as the Tianhe River bursting.
The straw that breaks the camel's back is often the last straw.
For the Meng Yuan soldiers whose morale was already on the verge of collapse, even if hundreds more Red Turban troops were killed from the south at this moment, it would be enough to scare them away.
What's more, the number of troops coming over with torches was tens of thousands.
Suddenly, no one cared about the situation on the north bank.
All the Meng Yuan soldiers who stayed on the south bank and those who had just ran off the pontoon screamed and ran away.
I just regret that my parents didn’t give me a fifth leg The soldiers of the Red Turban Army who came over with torches followed closely behind the defeated troops.
Everyone is dressed in cloth, and in their hands, apart from the torch, they only have a short knife or a wooden stick.
However, in the eyes of escapees, even daggers and wooden clubs contain endless power.
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No one dared to turn around and resist, allowing the red scarf soldiers to catch up from behind and knock them to the ground one by one with wooden clubs and knife handles.
"Woo, woo, woo," the cry for help from the North Shore was still ringing, but the sound was already filled with despair.
Near the lonely battle flag, Puxian Nu was carrying a steel knife inlaid with gems and making his final struggle under the protection of more than a dozen soldiers.
Wei Zixi, the commander of Fengziying, led three hundred soldiers and surrounded them tightly.
The eyes of every Red Turban soldier were filled with pity at this moment.
Yes, they are pitying their enemies.
It is the mercy of the strong towards the weak.
Because they suddenly discovered that the legendary Mongolian masters who could each fight a hundred were actually no different from themselves.
Unexpectedly, I also know fear and pain.
After realizing that the situation is over, I am also at a loss.
These legendary Mongolian masters who were so powerful in martial arts that they could even tear apart tigers and leopards with their bare hands were, from a certain point of view, not as good as everyone else.
At least when everyone is forced into a desperate situation, they still know how to jump up and fight for their lives.
But the hands of these old Mongolian men holding the knife were trembling all the time.
Their two thighs that looked extremely strong were as soft as noodles at the moment, and the curvature of the knees could be seen from the opposite side.
"Surrender, I will spare your life."
Wei Zixi had no interest in killing all the prey that had fallen into the trap.
According to the precedent set by Xuzhou Zuojun, capturing the enemy has the same merit as beheading it.
Moreover, after the prisoners are captured, they can be redeemed by the gentry on the north bank for money, which will bring everyone a predictable dividend.
"No."
Puxian Nu obviously understood Chinese and let out a mournful cry.
I saw him raising the knife high and staggering forward a few steps.
His chest almost hit the bright tip of the spear on the opposite side, but he didn't have the courage to bear the pain of being stabbed by the spears.
So he staggered back again, three steps back, two steps forward, three steps back, and two steps forward.
Finally, he dropped his sword, sat on the ground, and howled loudly.
"Woo" The soldiers and trumpeters also dropped their weapons and squatted on the ground in despair, covering their faces with their hands.
Most of them were on the battlefield for the first time.
The explanations about how weak the Han people are and how powerful the Mongols are still come from my grandfather or even great-grandfather who has been dead for many years.
When you find that everything is completely opposite to what your ancestors said, you can imagine the panic and loss in your heart.
In other locations on the north shore, the battle situation also showed a completely one-sided trend.
The Mongolian and Goryeo soldiers were either captured or killed, and almost completely lost their ability to resist.
Even some well-organized Mongolian centurions didn't know how to break out or escape in the chaos.
They just stood blankly on the shore and watched the red scarf troops in iron armor pushing towards them.
Then they were either hacked to death in despair, or fell to their knees and surrendered.
The soldiers of the Red Turban Army, who had high morale, were divided into hundreds of troops under the command of the trumpets and drums.
Led by brave centurions, they hunted down the remaining enemies.
When encountering organized resistance, several nearby Centuries quickly gathered together to trap the stubborn enemy troops, and then killed them one by one.
When encountering scattered escapees or lost souls, they would order them to drop their weapons, hold their heads in their hands, and wait for the auxiliary soldiers of the Red Turban Army to take them in.
Unknowingly, the east began to light up, and the scene on the battlefield became more and more clear.
The Mongolian soldiers who were fleeing for their lives and huddled together at a loss were far more numerous than the Red Turbans wearing iron armor.
However, they could not organize effective resistance at all, and were driven by the latter like sheep, with panic written in their eyes.
When professional robbers lose their nerve, they do no better than professional farmers.
What's more, this group of professional bandits has not heard of war for many years, but the professional farmers have been organized, and everyone has undergone at least three and a half months of specialized training.
Obedience, honor and discipline have slowly penetrated into the bones of every Red Turban soldier in the boring formation drills and military appearance training every day.
No matter how fierce the enemy is, their first thought is to maintain their formation and fight side by side with their teammates.
Instead of throwing down their weapons and running away like they did in November last year.
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Lu Luzeng, who stood blankly on the river beach, almost watched the whole process of Xuzhou Red Scarf dividing and outflanking the Mongolian and Yuan soldiers, defeating them one by one, and then chasing them to the north.
He suddenly realized that the nightmare he had last night was so ridiculous.
How could such a team with bright armor and neat orders put down their weapons and let others slaughter them?
Even without the "Palm Thunder" and "Palm Thunder" that rolled into the belly of the horse and exploded randomly With the help of the mysterious dragon boat, they can still defeat multiple enemies.
Even if the battle situation takes a turn for the worse, or the enemy army becomes ten times or even a hundred times their size, they will still fight tenaciously until the last person falls to the ground and the last drop of blood is drained.
Instead of obediently laying down their weapons and handing over the lives of themselves and their parents, wives and children into the hands of the enemy.
They have changed, become so tall, so strange.
They are no longer weeds that can be trampled on by others.
There is a brand-new vitality that has never been recorded in books, which is slowly being nurtured in their bodies and slowly spreading out in all directions.
Each of them proudly held their heads high and their backs straight, and led the captives, who were nearly twice as thick as themselves and several times their size, from all directions towards the already deserted military camp.
They proudly walked past Lu Zeng, not bothering to step forward to capture a bad old man with white hair, or they didn't notice Lu Zeng's existence at all.
A feeling of being insulted came to Lu Luzeng's heart again.
The rising sun shed thousands of golden lights, illuminating every angry wrinkle on the old Jinshi's face.
"Let Zhao Jun come and see me," he shouted loudly as he rushed towards the centurion of the Red Scarf Army who was nearest to him.
"I want to see Mr.
Zhao treat me with sincerity.
He actually dares to use me to let him out.
I want to ask him clearly today."
The centurion looked at him with pity, pointed to the military camp, and motioned for him to take the initiative to be a prisoner.
How can it be so easy to want to see Zhao Changshi?
Zhao Changshi is the second in command of our Red Scarf Army.
If anyone can see him if he wants to, what has become of the handsome tent of our Xuzhou Red Scarf Army?
"I want to see Zhao Junyong, I want to see Zhao Junyong."
Lu Zeng was furious, jumping on his feet and shouting loudly.
No matter how hard the four servants around me tried to persuade him, they couldn't stop him.
The nearby Red Scarf Army officers turned their heads over and looked at the crazy old man curiously, their eyes full of pity.
The white-haired old man in front of everyone was not the only one who went crazy on the battlefield today.
Many Mongolian and Goryeo generals, after being forced to lay down their weapons and surrender, became demented, as if their souls were no longer in their bodies.
They were used to conquest, to massacres and victories, and to hearing the legends from their ancestors about Mongolian warriors ravaging the entire Central Plains.
After discovering that all the glory and martial arts were gone like dreams, they didn't know what meaning they had left in their lives.
Lu Zeng was obviously more crazy than anyone else.
Finding that the nearby Red Turban Army soldiers ignored him, he moved his legs and walked toward the military camp while continuing to shout.
Almost every Red Turban Army general who passed the camp gate saw his madness.
Every pair of compassionate ears heard his presence.
Finally, a familiar face came over and held his arm, "Good Lord, please wake up.
I am Tongfu.
I am Tongfu.
Do you still remember me?
Good Lord, don't be afraid of this plan.
Isn't it?"
It’s against you.
No one in the Red Turban Army wants to deal with you.”
"Tongfu" Lu Luzeng tightly clasped Hu Dahai's arm armor with his fingers as if he had grasped a life-saving straw, making a heartbreaking sound.
"Quickly, take me to see Zhao Junyong, take me to see him quickly.
If he's not free, your Governor Zhu can tell them to stop chasing him, and they must let Yue Kuo Cha'er go and let him go, right?"
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Your Xuzhou Red Scarf only has benefits and absolutely no harm.”
"Ah" Hu Dahai was stunned.
He couldn't figure out why the old Jinshi was so crazy that he had fallen to such a point and actually tried to plead for Yue Kuochaer.
Unexpectedly, Lu Lu Zeng was so anxious that his eyes were burning.
With the rare strength of an old man, he shook his arm and continued to shout loudly: "Tuo Tuo is using a strategy of exhausting his troops.
He is now busy dealing with the Yingzhou Red Scarf." , I don’t have any extra energy to deal with you, so I thought of this.
This idea keeps you busy fighting every day, leaving no time for rest.
After dealing with the Yingzhou Red Scarf, he will personally lead an army to deal with you.
Yue Kuo Cha'er is from another faction in the court.
You must keep him.
Leave him to stab Tuotuo in the back."
"Ah ah ah, I understand.
You have always been waiting here.
I will go find our governor right now."
Hu Dahai was stunned with fright and exclaimed several times before coming back to his senses.
While calling people to come forward to protect Lu Luzeng, he ran towards the depths of the military camp.
Lu Luzeng, an old Jinshi, finally got his wish.
He bent down, held his knees with both hands, and breathed heavily.
Groups of Red Turban Army soldiers escorting prisoners walked past him quickly, with pride and joy written all over their faces.
This pride and joy did not belong to him for the time being, Lu Luzeng, but the old man didn't mind.
He has lived a long life, and his temper is no longer as impatient as his youth.
There will be enough time and opportunity in the future to slowly share it with everyone.
"Holding a ninety-nine steel knife, I will kill all the beards before I stop."
Some soldiers who had returned from victory sang folk songs loudly.
The tune was weird and the lyrics had nothing to do with elegance.
But Lu Luzeng heard it and found it full of charm.
And as he listened, he started humming along with everyone else.
Holding a ninety-nine steel knife, he stopped after killing all Hu'er.
A man who is upright and upright is why the Tartars are like horses and oxen.
A strong man drinks all the wine in his bowl and never looks back on a journey of thousands of miles.
The golden drums are beating together and the crowd is roaring, and the yellow dragon will not stop until it is broken.
Holding a ninety-nine steel knife, he stopped only when the smell was gone.
The immortal soul of the man is still there, flowing like a river forever.
The immortal soul of the man is still there, flowing like a river forever.
This song spreads along both sides of the Yellow River.
Flying over cities, over forests, mountains, farmland, and wilderness, it spread throughout the Central Plains, the entire sky and the earth in the blink of an eye.
The giant dragon that had been sleeping for nearly a hundred years really woke up and leaped into the sky amid singing, with thousands of auspicious colors and flying claws.
The end of the first volume of Shaobing Song Note 1: The Shaobing Song is said to have been written by Liu Bowen.
In fact, it is the war song of the Red Turban Army in the late Yuan Dynasty.
The original lyrics and music are no longer testable.
Except for the first sentence, the online version is all fabricated.
Note 2: Regarding the combat effectiveness of the Yuan army at this time, please refer to the history of the Yuan Dynasty.
In May, Timur also stationed at the Shahe River and did not dare to enter for several days.
The army was frightened at night, and Timur escaped first, controlling his horses from left to right to keep him.
First, Timur cut him with his saber and said, "I am not my life."
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Then he ran away.
All the armies were defeated, and all the military resources were accumulated by Fu Tong.
In this battle, the number of Yuan troops killed was as many as 300,000: