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

Chapter 220 Wu Sangui: See you at Bowangpo

Liu Mu knew perfectly well that Chen Moxing, this tomb raider, would never perform any rituals to help the souls of the dead find peace.

If you really want to chant sutras to save wronged souls, then the monks of temples and the Taoist priests of Taoist temples will handle it. Sending him there is just a formality on your behalf!

Digging up someone's ancestral graves is something that should never be done.

Digging up graves is a major taboo that damages one's virtue. Not only will it be condemned by the world, but it will also create an irreconcilable blood feud. He now commands 100,000 elite troops and controls half of the country, so there is no need for him to do something so reprehensible.

More importantly, we should put ourselves in others' shoes. What if, after we die, our graves are dug up and people desecrate them, leaving us no peace in the afterlife? Wouldn't that be ridiculous?

After much thought, Emperor Guangwu Liu Xiu's approach was the best. He buried his dead simply, with only two sets of old clothes in his tomb and no gold or silver as burial goods. Not to mention tomb robbers, even those who were looking for trouble would feel pity upon seeing such a meager tomb and would probably leave a couple of copper coins before leaving. This way, he could ensure peace after his death and gain a good reputation, which was the best long-term solution.

As Liu Mu was contemplating his affairs after his death, Zhou Peigong suddenly stepped forward, his brows furrowed, and bowed urgently, pleading, "Your Majesty, the Wu army has just suffered a defeat and lost Fangcheng. Their morale is low, and they are fleeing in disarray. I implore Your Majesty to order a pursuit immediately! If we allow them to regroup their forces and wait for Wu Sangui to reorganize and fight again, they will become a major threat, needlessly wasting our resources and manpower!"

Liu Mu snapped out of his thoughts, looked up at Zhou Peigong, and smiled confidently. His tone was firm yet tinged with disdain: "Wu Sangui's loss of Fangcheng is tantamount to handing over the fertile lands of Nanyang. With Nanyang lost, even the rice-producing regions of Hubei cannot be defended. Without supplies and a source of manpower, he will only grow weaker with each battle and will have no strength to fight back."

As Liu Mu spoke, his gaze drifted out of the tent, as if piercing through layers of tents to see the direction of Wancheng. He slowly said, "He must be retreating to Wancheng right now, frantically gathering up the defeated troops from all sides, scavenging for food and weapons, clinging to his last hope, determined to fight me to the death in Nanyang. We don't need to rush our advance. We can set up camp here to rest and recuperate. It's him who's in a hurry, not us."

Zhou Peigong remained deeply worried and bowed again, saying, "Your Majesty, I fear that Wu Sangui is cunning. Seeing that Nanyang cannot be held, he might plunder grain and supplies from Hubei and lead his elite troops to retreat to Hunan. Hunan is covered with dense forests and has a treacherous terrain. If he follows the example of the Southern Ming and hides in the mountains to wage guerrilla warfare, our firearms and artillery will be difficult to use, and our main force will be unable to deploy. The pacification may be delayed for several years!"

Liu Mu shook his head slightly. In terms of troop deployment and strategic planning, he was not as good as Zhou Peigong and his generals. However, after being emperor for several years, he had long seen through the thoughts of these separatist warlords.

Wu Sangui was stubborn, suspicious, and selfish throughout his life. He only trusted himself and not others. He did not trust Li Zicheng in the past, nor did he trust Kangxi later. Now that he was at his wit's end, he would not trust his grandson Wu Shifan to protect the southwest after his death.

Such a proud person would never linger in the mountains and forests, but would instead take a desperate gamble and actively seek out his own doom.

"He won't," Liu Mu said with unwavering certainty. "Not only will he not flee, but he will also come looking for me and fight me to the death."

Seeing the emperor's confidence, Zhou Peigong's anxiety gradually subsided. Now the Han Dynasty had occupied seven-tenths of the land, with a strong army and sufficient food supplies. Even if Wu Sangui launched a desperate counterattack, it would be difficult to shake the foundation of the Han Dynasty. So he said no more and bowed to the side.

The following three days are packed with exciting content: Chapter 220 Wu Sangui: See you at Bowangpo (Full text available, click here). Liu Mu remained inactive, spending his days inspecting and reviewing his troops, checking the weaponry, provisions, and troop deployments of each guard, ensuring that his 100,000-strong army was in top condition.

At the same time, he specially brought Gao Qilong along to introduce his subordinate generals and guerrilla generals one by one, explaining in detail the troop strength ratio and combat characteristics of each guard. The upcoming decisive battle at Bowangpo was then handed over to Gao Qilong, who was skilled in field battle formations, for full command.

As for Jiang Muning, Liu Mu ordered him to take his trusted men and carry the Ministry of War's ultimatum to Korea. However, considering his commendable filial piety and the advanced age of his mother, Liu Mu granted him special permission to return to his hometown to serve her for a month before setting off for his post. Jiang Muning was deeply grateful, knelt down and kowtowed to express his gratitude, and then accepted the order and left.

Just then, a soldier from the Wu army came and handed over a letter. Upon opening it, the handwriting was messy and full of despair: "In half a month, the decisive battle of Bowangpo will take place. If the Wu family is defeated, I beg that a single bloodline of the Wu family be spared. The youngest son, born out of wedlock, shall not concern himself with worldly affairs and shall be released to the common people, never to be involved in military or political affairs again."

After reading the letter, Liu Mu gently placed it on the table, his smile widening, confirming that his judgment was absolutely correct.

Wu Sangui was already at his wit's end, or rather, his body was about to give out. He had even entrusted his bloodline to others beforehand. In this battle, he had no chance of escape.

In 1677 AD, the year 1878 of the Han Dynasty, in mid-spring, the hundred-mile plain of Bowangpo was covered with lush green wheat seedlings, which were growing vigorously.

In a peaceful year, a bountiful harvest would surely be in sight, but now, this fertile field has become the battlefield of a decisive battle. Twenty thousand Han cavalrymen swept through first, trampling and crushing all the tender green wheat stalks.

On the vast plain, the northern and southern armies faced each other from afar, the air so heavy it seemed to freeze, even the spring breeze carried a chilling atmosphere.

At this time, to the south of Bowangpo was 200,000 Wu troops. The number seemed huge, covering half of the plain in a dark mass, but in reality, they were strong on the outside but weak on the inside.

The only truly capable and skilled warriors were the 100,000 elite troops in the central army. These soldiers had followed Wu Sangui for many years, were fully armored and equipped, and their ranks were fairly orderly, with a hint of ferocity in their eyes.

On both sides of the central army were civilians and surrendered soldiers who had been temporarily conscripted. Their uniforms were tattered and messy, their weapons were all kinds of mismatched, and they didn't even have a piece of iron to protect themselves. They were just cannon fodder to make up the numbers and had no combat power whatsoever.

To the north were the twenty guards of the Han capital, a total of 100,000 troops. Although their numbers were less than half of the Wu army, their military strength and morale far surpassed those of the Wu army.

At the forefront, 60,000 musketeers were neatly divided into 60 squads. The soldiers wore uniform khaki uniforms, carried ammunition pouches at their waists, and held flintlock muskets. They advanced slowly with synchronized steps, without the slightest disorder, demonstrating the demeanor of a strong army.

Behind the musket formation, 20,000 spearmen followed closely, dressed in khaki cloth-covered iron armor, which was both lightweight and sturdy.

This distance allows them to rush to the front lines at any time to form a shield formation, resist enemy charges, and provide cover and protection for the musketeers, making it a solid barrier to safeguard the musketeer formation.

The 20,000 elite cavalry were divided into western units, which were positioned outside the infantry formations to protect the flanks of the main army, guard against enemy cavalry raids, and be ready to launch a surprise attack at any time.

At the rear of the army, a large number of artillerymen, along with tens of thousands of able-bodied laborers and a large number of oxen and horses, slowly pushed the artillery carts forward.

There are too many cannons!