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

Chapter 198 When the cunning rabbit dies, the hunting dog is cooked; this happens in every country.

While Amba Singh and his generals were eating and drinking, Ji Nanshou led his men and horses at full speed to the outer camp.

Seeing the orderly arrangement of the inner and outer camps, separated by barricades, one couldn't help but sigh in admiration.

"Circumstances create heroes; this is a born leader!"

"The Prime Minister is right. If such a person harbors even the slightest rebellious intention, then the land of India will truly be difficult to covet!"

Just as Ji Nanshou approached the camp, the camp had already gathered more than 5,000 men, all armed with spears and ready for battle.

A general with a scarred face rode up on horseback.

"Who are you people?"

Ji Nanshou's eyelids twitched. He had come from the fortress, at such a close distance, it was impossible for the general not to know that he was a man of the Indian king.

However, his words just now carried a strong interrogative tone, clearly indicating that he only recognized Amba Singh and was unaware of the King of India.

Trying to put on a friendly expression, Ji Nanshou took out the Hanuman Eagle carving given to him by Amba Singh and held it high.

"General Amba Singh, let me take command of the army, arrange tomorrow's battle plans, and follow the King of India to the front lines to drive out the Mughals!"

Upon seeing Hanuman the Eagle, the scarred general instantly transformed from arrogant and unruly to humble and polite, and clasped his hands together.

"I'm willing to follow your instructions!"

Ji Nanshou was even more terrified upon seeing this. The personal charisma of this Amba Singh was so powerful that he could command an army with just a carving. This chieftain was like a succubus.

Without hesitation, he immediately led his troops into the camp.

Of these three thousand people, most were loyal to Liu Weiqing, and the rest were Bhutanese who spoke Bengali.

Before nightfall, Ji Nanshou dispersed the army and appointed his men as captains, centurions, and chiliarchs according to the military ranks of the Han Dynasty.

At the same time, in the name of the King of India, each person was given thirty rupees, which was equivalent to ten taels of silver. Moreover, the purchasing power in India was even stronger, which immediately won over the general's heart.

For these ordinary soldiers, tangible gold and silver are more real than loyalty to someone.

This silver was actually plundered from the landlords and merchants in West Bengal, who spent it without a second thought.

Meanwhile, the generals promoted by Amba Singh were all gathered together and tricked into coming to the camp under the pretext that the King of India was going to reward them for their merits and arrange new soldiers for them.

"etc!"

The further away from the camp, the more flustered the scarred general felt. When he was about 200 meters away from the camp, he suddenly stopped, ordered the middle-ranking generals to stop, and then looked at Ji Nanshou with a puzzled expression.

"General, I think it would be better to wait for General Ambassinger to return before making arrangements for us!"

Ji Nanshou glanced at the camp, then at Scarface, and with one hand gripping the hilt of his sword, he swiftly drew his blade.

Scarface was also on guard, drawing his knife to parry, then revealing a look of resentment.

"What are you doing?!"

"Does this mean you want to kill General Ambassinger?"

No sooner had he finished speaking than the sound of crossbow bolts came from behind him, and Scarface and the other mid-level officers were instantly shot dead on the spot.

Ji Nanshou shook his head, stepped forward and closed Scarface's eyes, then clasped his hands together and bowed.

"His Majesty the Emperor and the Empire need land and people, not your knives!"

"May you rest in peace, and may you be reborn into a better family in your next life!"

"Dig a few good holes and bury them!"

Ji Nanshou gave a few instructions and then returned to the camp with his personal guards. In addition to giving them rupees, he also promised these soldiers land and women.

loyalty?

It's never absolute!

……

Meanwhile, Amba Singh was already well-fed and well-drinked. As expected of a super warrior, he ate half a lamb and ten eggs, and could still drink a pot of wine.

At this moment, Dorje limped in again. Seeing that the other generals were all drunk, he went up to them.

"General Ambah Singh, the King of India has just awakened and wishes to invite you to discuss tomorrow's battle!"

Ambasinger was about to agree when he felt a sharp pain in his heart, but he didn't care. In the fortress, who could kill him? So he reached out his hand.

"Please lead the way!"

After the two walked away side by side, Dorje put his hands behind his back and extended his thumb. In the shadows, thirty people quickly emerged.

These men, dressed in night clothes, approached the generals, quickly drew their broken blades, covered their faces with one hand, and swiftly slit their throats with a dagger in the other.

"The general said, carry them out and bury them!"

"One person, one pit; after all, they are warriors who fight the enemy!"

……

Inside Liu Weiqing's tent, more than twenty candles were lit, illuminating the interior. When Ambasinger entered the tent, he saw Liu Weiqing sitting upright in a chair.

I immediately sensed something was wrong.

Her complexion was rosy and she didn't look injured at all.

Even around the western edge of the tent, black figures were moving about, and the wounds from their muskets were already showing.

Almost at the same time that Amba Singh was about to turn around, Dorje, who was standing next to him, with neither a limp nor a trembling hand, held a short musket to his forehead.

Liu Weiqing stood up, holding two glasses of wine, took a sip, and handed one to Ambasinger.

"This is wine from Persia!"

"It tastes sweeter than rice wine!"

Ambassinger couldn't understand Chinese. Upon hearing this, he just frowned and stared intently at Liu Weiqing. He thought the cup contained poison, but he didn't want to die immediately.

He wanted to know why, so he took the wine glass but didn't drink it; instead, he looked at Liu Weiqing.

"I want to know, why?"

The question was tinged with melancholy. Just now, to maintain proper etiquette, Ambassinger even tidied his hair and had cinnabar marks drawn on his forehead again.

Unexpectedly, upon entering, they found themselves in a dead end.

Yes, under such circumstances, Ambassinger no longer believed he could survive, which is why he was so open and honest.

Heroes appreciate each other. Liu Weiqing couldn't understand Hindi, but he knew from the expression what Amba Singh was asking: why the King of India wanted to kill him.

So his expression was very conflicted at this moment. In fact, he was reluctant to kill such a general who could fight and command troops, but when he remembered Zhang Ying's words, he became determined again.

"You rose to power too quickly, and you have too many troops under your command!"

"I have no way to control you!"

"Bangladesh cannot afford a second war!"

The power is high.

Or perhaps it's a case of "when the cunning rabbit dies, the hunting dog is cooked!"

Although they did not share a common written language, every country had one without exception. Akbar, the third emperor of the Mughal Empire, was placed on the throne by his adoptive father after the chaos of war.

The result was exile, and he was eventually assassinated by the Persians. But anyone with common sense would know that the Persians had no reason to kill a powerless person; it was Akbar who did it.

Having figured things out, Ambassinger had no more doubts. He put his hands together and looked at the wine glass in Liu Weiqing's hand and the muskets around him.

"Poisoned wine or a musket?"

"Of course, if I could, I'd like to end it myself!"

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