The Revolt of the Three Feudatories: All-in at the start in Beijing

Chapter 192 Zhang Ying: The Emperor's Nephew is an Old Silver Coin

Twenty thousand elite Mughal cavalry, along with the initial three thousand, inflicted indelible scars on western Bengal, killing no fewer than one hundred thousand in the first wave.

Not to mention those indirectly persecuted, such as those whose food supplies were disrupted, causing large-scale famine, and those Muslims who were not completely eradicated and took the opportunity to cause trouble.

With such large-scale killings and the westward migration of refugees, Amba Singh's army grew larger and larger, soon exceeding five thousand men, a thousand of whom were fully armored and had all plundered Mughal cavalry.

They even developed a navy of two hundred cavalry and dozens of warships, capable of ambushing enemies along the Ganges River, and their forces grew faster and faster.

Amba Singh's team is just one of many; the others range from hundreds to thousands, and there are even more formidable teams.

……

While the rebels were blocking their way everywhere, Mughal cavalry commander Amir had already arrived in Rajir.

This is where two major rivers meet. Once the Ganges is crossed, we can quickly reach Kacheng and cut off Liu Weiqing's supply lines at the front.

But the bunker on the other side was full of cannons, and a cavalry force of three thousand men was confronting them on the opposite bank. They had no fleet and could not cross the river at all.

But that's not the hardest part. The hardest part is that Amir realized something was wrong, because as the main force, he always maintained an army of 5,000 and had already killed more than a dozen teams, each with hundreds of people.

Fearless and undaunted, that's the only word to describe Amir. Knowing he was outnumbered, he still came to ambush them with a knife. This guy is not a native of India; he seems to be a different race.

With his back to the rolling waters of the Ganges, Amir looked north with a hint of doubt in his eyes.

"Your Majesty, you may have gone too far. These Indian untouchables don't seem so weak and easily bullied!"

Yes, Amir had already realized that these Indian natives were awakening and slowly learning to resist. The thought of Hindus, who made up more than 70% of the country, sent chills down his spine!

……

In contrast to the fierce fighting in western Bengal, the front lines were unusually quiet. Aurangzeb did not launch any attacks, while Liu Weiqing simply conducted drills on the spot.

The military formations that hadn't been taught before, as well as the three-person combined attack technique, were being practiced hastily.

Meanwhile, Liu Weiqing, the person in charge, was receiving Zhang Ying, who came from Beijing, in the military camp.

Inside the large tent, Liu Weiqing was dressed in a red round-necked python robe and a golden crown. Zhang Ying, sitting to his left, was dressed in a green official robe of a seventh-rank official. His face was tanned dark and even had sunspots.

On both of their tables, beef was stewing.

Yes, Liu Weiqing loved beef, but cattle were also a very important resource in the hands of the Mongols, and after they entered the Central Plains, they hadn't eaten beef for a long time.

Nowadays in India, cows really roam everywhere, and there's a calf every three or ten days.

As for Hindus not eating beef?

What does this have to do with Liu Weiqing?

"Mr. Zhang, come on, have some beef!"

After Liu Weiqing finished speaking, he picked up a large piece of beef shank, put it in his mouth, and showed an expression of enjoyment as he chewed!

As a scholar, Zhang Ying was quite refined; he picked up a tiny bit and ate it slowly, but it tasted like chewing wax.

Upon seeing this, Liu Weiqing put down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth.

"Mr. Zhang, His Majesty wrote to us long ago. He knows your talent well. Given what has happened, keeping you in the capital is not a good thing. It would be better for you to come and serve me!"

Liu Weiqing clapped his hands immediately after saying this.

Soon, the sound of musical instruments arose from behind the screen, and twenty Persians wearing red saris appeared. (Chapter 192, "Zhang Ying: The Emperor's Nephew is an Old Silver Coin," updated! Read now!) She swayed her hips as she entered, keeping time with the music.

Liu Weiqing had probably seen it too many times and didn't feel much, but Zhang Ying had stared at it intently.

This was a Persian women's troupe that Shahsta Khan, the Mughal emperor's maternal uncle, purchased from the Dutch.

Having followed Liu Mu for a long time, Liu Weiqing's personality and hobbies were similar; they both loved good food and beautiful women, and they definitely wanted to keep such a good thing as the Persian girl group in their hands.

Men understand men best. Zhang Ying is only in her thirties now, and talking about ambitions is too lofty. Liu Weiqing simply had the girl group come out to entertain them and sweep away Zhang Ying's melancholy at being far from home.

As expected, with a beautiful woman by his side, Zhang Ying's appetite was whetted. She picked up a large piece of beef shank and began to eat it with gusto. Afterwards, she even skillfully drank a glass of wine.

After a few rounds of drinks, the Persian women's group left, leaving only the two of them in the tent. Liu Weiqing stood up and patted his belly.

"Mr. Zhang, I won't waste any more time. Now that you've come to my kingdom of India, the position of Prime Minister is yours. You can take a look at the general situation I've compiled behind you!"

Zhang Ying, having eaten and drunk her fill, plus the three gifts Liu Weiqing bestowed upon her... He was in a very good mood at the moment. He wiped his mouth and shook his head to let the effects of the alcohol wear off. Then he picked up the booklet behind him and began to read it. He frowned after reading only half of it.

"Your Majesty, it is not wise to let those rebel armies fight independently. A thousand or two thousand soldiers are fine, but if they reach twenty or thirty thousand, and given that Bengal is a land of plenty, they are very likely to declare themselves kings!"

"Furthermore, Your Majesty, you are, after all, an outsider, with a different skin color and language. If a capable person were to emerge and resonate with all Hindus, your position would be in grave danger!"

Upon hearing this, Liu Weiqing's expression changed drastically after a moment's thought. He had previously only considered raising Gu to become an army, since he wasn't Indian. But now, he realized that not being Indian was his biggest weakness.

Just like at the end of the Yuan Dynasty, who could have imagined that the one who would eventually seize power would be Zhu Yuanzhang, a beggar?

Thinking of this, Liu Weiqing pushed back his chair and rushed forward, grabbing Zhang Ying's wrist.

"Do you have any ideas?"

Zhang Ying blinked, stroked his goatee and pondered for a moment before revealing a confident expression.

"Your Majesty, you must know that the people's hearts reside in their bellies!"

Liu Weiqing wasn't stupid; upon hearing this, he immediately understood that western Bengal, attacked by Mughal cavalry, was now desperately short of food.

As long as one invokes the will of the Indian king and delivers food to the local area along the river, coupled with the previous delivery of weapons and provisions provided by the Indian king, one can suppress the righteousness of others.

Thinking of this, Liu Weiqing clapped his hands, and a personal guard immediately walked in from outside the tent.

"Go and relay the order to General Ji Nanshou!"

"Order them to transport 100,000 shi of grain along the Ganges and its tributaries to deliver food to the displaced people!"

Upon hearing that 100,000 shi was too little, Zhang Ying was about to ask if it was too little, but Liu Weiqing interrupted him.

"Prime Minister, India is not like the Central Plains. It usually doesn't experience major disasters for ten or twenty years. The grain in the landlords' granaries is practically overflowing!"

"I will send troops disguised as Mughal cavalry to plunder, and then we can switch to our own people to distribute the supplies!"

Upon hearing this, Zhang Ying felt a chill run down her spine.

His Majesty the Emperor's nephew is generous, a trait inherited from his father, but he seems to be a bit of a shrew, as he can come up with such a despicable idea.

It seems I'll have to be more careful in the future.