Chapter Twenty-Three: The Trapped Dragon Descends into the Sea

As the carriage swiftly left the city, Gu Zhenhua felt his tension ease considerably. Though the journey had not been entirely smooth, the gains far exceeded his expectations. Weapons, treasures, even the crown prince and the imperial edict—all were capital for building his foundation! If only he were granted a little more time, he was certain he could elevate the descendants of Wild Boar Skin to prominence.

Just as Gu Zhenhua was quietly calculating and preparing to depart the city together, suddenly the soldiers at the city gate shouted in alarm. Two enormous war chariots charged in from outside. The Great Shun army hid behind them, continuously firing arrows at the convoy.

A charioteer was struck by an arrow and died on the spot; the carriage halted abruptly. The following carriage couldn’t stop in time and collided with the first, sending three chariots crashing into the moat. The bird guns mounted atop them all fell into the water.

“Not good!”

Xie Bin, commanding at the gate, was shocked. One war chariot was over three meters wide and nearly six meters tall, almost as wide as the city gate itself. Two of them side by side completely blocked the drawbridge. Their only escape route was sealed off. This was a dire situation!

“Fire!”

The crack of muskets filled the air.

A dozen musketeers fired at the war chariots, but the lead balls only made a few holes in the thick tanned leather, occasionally splintering some wood. Against such a colossal beast, the damage was negligible. The chariots hesitated only briefly before pressing forward.

At the same time, the Great Shun archers aimed at the musketeers; arrows flew like locusts, and in moments three musketeers were wounded. Gu Zhenhua’s veins bulged on his forehead. Victory seemed within reach, yet such a situation had arisen—it was as if they were leading themselves into a death trap!

“Fire!”

Another volley of shots tore the leather further, splinters flying, yet the massive war chariots remained unshaken, steadily advancing onto the drawbridge, sealing off the two large gates and blocking any hope of escape.

Several soldiers, seeing muskets were ineffective, charged forward with swords and sabers, hacking furiously. But the Great Shun army rained arrows through the gaps, killing them all. Their bodies fell into the moat.

Witnessing this scene, cold sweat drenched the faces of both Gu Zhenhua and Xie Bin. What to do? What to do? Gu Zhenhua repeatedly questioned himself.

“Sergeant Xie, bring the cannon! Use the big cannon to blast them apart!”

Hearing this, Xie Bin snapped to attention. Gu Zhenhua had brought two European-style cannons from Wang Gong’s arsenal; one had already been transported outside, and another remained inside the city. This was the perfect moment to use them!

“Sir, setting up the cannon will take about the length of an incense stick,” a soldier reported.

“Good. Leave it to me!” Gu Zhenhua responded without hesitation. He spurred his horse forward to the gate, brandishing his saber with one hand to deflect incoming arrows, while pushing the gate closed with the soldiers.

The gate situation was critical. Inside, the Great Shun army was amassing, and outside, two war chariots blocked the way, effectively encircling Gu Zhenhua’s forces. Without holding back the Great Shun army, there would be no time to set up the cannon. Thus, Gu Zhenhua chose to close the city gates first, temporarily barricading the chariots.

The creaking gate groaned agonizingly, slowly closing. From behind the chariots, a dozen soldiers burst forth, trying to break into the city. Gu Zhenhua swung his saber wildly, like a man possessed, cutting down three or four attackers in rapid succession.

“Close the gates!” he shouted.

With Gu Zhenhua’s roar, the massive gates finally shut. The soldiers hurriedly bolted them, temporarily holding back the Great Shun forces.

At that moment, Gu Zhenhua felt sharp pain in his shoulder and abdomen—two feathered arrows had pierced him, blood staining his armor instantly.

“Sir, are you alright?” Xie Bin asked in alarm.

“I’m fine.” In such a critical moment, he had to hold on. Gu Zhenhua knew the arrows hadn’t penetrated deeply—just flesh wounds.

Suddenly, rapid hoofbeats sounded in the distance. A large banner fluttered high, emblazoned with a giant character—Liu.

Gu Zhenhua instinctively sensed danger. “Sergeant Xie, I’ll hold off the Great Shun army. Hurry and prepare the cannon!”

“Yes, sir!” Xie Bin quickly rallied the soldiers, choosing their positions and readying the artillery. Gu Zhenhua spurred his horse forward to meet the charge.

Riding near was Liu Zongmin, who had lost half an ear to Gu Zhenhua’s shot. Though not fatal, the injury marred his features, and future honors of marquis or king would surely become a laughingstock. More infuriating was the loss of three girls he had taken a liking to—such beauties he had never seen before, now gone. His anger and hatred burned fiercely.

Furious and vengeful, Liu Zongmin had his medics hastily bandage his ear and led his troops in pursuit, vowing to personally slay that detestable man.

As the troops neared the Chaoyang Gate, Liu Zongmin spotted the chariots from afar. This time, he was wiser—Gu Zhenhua’s muskets were deadly; no need to take unnecessary risks.

With a wave of his hand, Liu Zongmin’s soldiers surged forward like a tidal wave. The two sides drew closer. Gu Zhenhua squinted, fixating on the charging Liu Zongmin.

“Musketeers—ready—fire!”

Gunfire erupted instantly. The soldiers at the front fell in a row, but these fierce warriors paid no mind and pressed on relentlessly. Shot after shot rang out; the Great Shun army fell steadily. The forty-step distance became an impassable chasm, a dense bullet storm forming a deadly barrier.

Liu Zongmin fumed with rage, screaming wildly, yet was powerless. At that very moment, the cannon was finally set up.

Victory or defeat hinged on this moment! Xie Bin clenched his fists.

“Open the gates!”

Outside, the Great Shun forces battered the gate relentlessly, nearing collapse. The soldiers threw the gates open and hastily stepped aside. The Great Shun troops hesitated, caught off guard.

Xie Bin suddenly signaled, lighting the fuse. With a deafening roar, the cannonball struck the gate, bricks shattered, splinters flying. The Great Shun soldiers charging inside were blown to pieces.

When the dust settled, Xie Bin’s face turned pale. The shot had been slightly too high, hitting the bricks rather than the chariots. Though the chariots had been partially damaged, about three feet of them remained intact, still blocking the way like twin gates.

“Not good!” Xie Bin sensed the danger and shouted, “Reload! Fire again!”

At that moment, arrows rained down from the city walls, knocking out the gunners. Xie Bin was struck twice in the shoulder and chest. These archers had been placed by Li Yan; a frontal fight with muskets was unwise, so he had quietly sent archers up the walls to ambush Gu Zhenhua’s forces. The plan worked perfectly—the gunners were eliminated, and Gu Zhenhua could no longer blast through the war chariots.

Outside, the Great Shun soldiers recovered from the blast and surged into the city. In an instant, Gu Zhenhua and his men were surrounded on three sides—Liu Zongmin’s main army, Li Yan’s archers, and the soldiers outside. Like three massive hands, they clenched tightly around Gu Zhenhua’s neck, intent on crushing him.

Gu Zhenhua noticed the peril immediately. It felt as if he had fallen into an icy abyss in the dead of winter, chilled to the bone. Even combining both his past lives, he had never faced such danger. His mind raced endlessly, seeking any possible solution, but hope seemed nonexistent. Was this to be his end?

Liu Zongmin’s arrogant laughter rang in his ears. The Great Shun army surged forward. The musketeers had expended all their ammunition; their firepower waned and could no longer hold back the enemy. Li Yan’s forces were closing in. Only about thirty men beside Gu Zhenhua were still standing, while hundreds—perhaps thousands—of foes pressed relentlessly, their numbers swelling.

Xie Bin pounded his feet, beating his chest, lamenting, “It’s my incompetence! I deserve to die!”

But Gu Zhenhua remained calm, his voice grave: “Brothers, I’m sorry we couldn’t get everyone out safely. We can only stand and fight together here. Are you willing?”

“Yes!”

“Yes!”

Though their time together had been short, Gu Zhenhua’s leadership had earned their respect. Each man braced himself, ready to fight to the death.

Just then, a loud shout rang out: “Master Gu! You saved me! I have nothing else to give but my life!”

Gu Zhenhua recognized the voice and looked over. Three carriages were bound together side by side. Standing on the center shaft was a man, cracking his whip fiercely, urging the horses madly toward the city gates.

“To the invaders—may you all be blown to hell!”