Emperor Ming Dynasty

A manor that is only thirty miles away from Shengjing.

Due to its proximity to the Liaohe River and its fertile land, it is only a day's journey to Shengjing, so it has long been in the pockets of the nobles of the Eight Banners.

As usual, Luo Bei came out of the dilapidated thatched house like a doghouse, and then, like other neighbors, began to weed the rice under the harsh eyes of the stewards.

If you accidentally pull off the rice, you will be served with a leather whip, and you will be beaten until your head is broken and bloody.

He is over forty years old, and in this small manor, he is not even free to marry.

Even those who are disliked by the stewards are not his turn to marry.

All this is because he is a serf, a serf who joined the manor for less than five years, a soldier slave brought back from the pass.

In the eyes of all the people in the manor, he is the lowest level character, unlike them who have followed their masters for a long time, and some have even been slaves for three consecutive generations.

The only chance to stand up is to serve as a soldier, but Luo Bei doesn't have this chance either.

He used to wag his tail and flatter him like a dog, but he didn't get any response. He still didn't have enough food and clothing every day, and he didn't have the chance to reproduce at all.

Day after day of hard work had made him numb.

Originally, he heard that Da Ming had returned from killing him, and this was his best chance to stand up, but it was quickly evaporated like raindrops falling into the ground.

Will this be the case in the future?

Suddenly, he raised his head and saw a surge of dust outside the fence, accompanied by a strong sound of horseshoes.

After that, the manor fell into silence.

Soon, several stewards were forced to kneel down, and the serfs did not dare to neglect, but could only kneel along with them, full of fear and uneasiness.

Ming army——

Luo Bei was shocked. The familiar military robe and the legendary red triangle scarf all showed that this was the Ming army.

I saw that there were about a hundred cavalrymen in this team, one with two horses, looking tired.

The leader didn't even look at them, and directly took out a piece of paper from his pocket:
"From now on, Daming will take over everything in Liaodong. All the land cultivated by serfs will be allocated to the serfs on the ground. Each household has [-] mu—"

"No way, General, this is my master's land, why give it to these lowly slaves?"

The steward who was kneeling on the ground opened his mouth and couldn't help shouting loudly.

"Pa—" What greeted him was a crisp slap.

The man looked at him arrogantly and disdainfully: "Your master? The only master in the world is the Ming Emperor. In the whole world, is it the king's land, and the shore of the land, is it the king's ministers."

"Your Jianzhou Jurchen with pigtails of money has already fled far away, and will never come back."

After all, he felt that it was not enough, so he couldn't help kicking a few more times, which caused a burst of yelling.

"On the way, I have encountered many unscrupulous people like you who took the land for private use and even hoped for another master to come back. Do you think you deserve to die?"

"Tie it up and bring it back for trial."

After venting, the man turned his head and faced the stunned serf with a smile:
"One hundred acres per household, bring the land deeds, and I will divide them one by one."

"From now on, you are not serfs, but civilian households in Ming Dynasty. You can take the imperial examination, join the army, and do business..."

Luo Bei was shocked, unbelievable, all this happened too fast.

Until he held a land deed worth 100 mu in his hand, he still didn't believe it was true.

His eyes were red, he pursed his lips, trembled a few times, and finally shouted: "Long live Daming—"

……

"Man Qing can't do it anymore."

Horqin Grassland, on a piece of grassland, the beautiful sunset is about to end, but a group of Mongolians are wearing Mongolian robes, riding on horses, hunting indulgently.

The Horqin tribe belonged to the fiefdom of Gaisar, the second brother of Genghis Khan, and belonged to one of the Khans of the Eastern Mongolia.

In the third year of Jiajing, the 14th Sun Kuimeng Tashala of Hesar moved to the Nen River Basin to escape the war, so it is also called Nen Horqin.

In order to rule the affiliated Mongolian tribes, the Qing government implemented the alliance flag system among the various Mongolian tribes, and appointed the highest officer of the flag, Zasak.

That year, five banners and ten kings were established in Horqin.

These ten kings, unlike other titles in the Manchu Qing Dynasty, all issued edicts to be hereditary.

Xietuhan Badali couldn't help touching the mane of the war horse under his crotch. The smooth and delicate horse hair made him fondle admiringly:
"Former allies, now I'm afraid it's our turn to come to the rescue, what do you think?"

King Tujun Khan showed surprise on his face: "What about allies, who controlled us to death, now it's all over, and I can finally feel at ease."

Zhen Guogong curled his lips: "You think it is simple."

"There is nothing on the grassland, silk, grain, porcelain, tea, beauties, slaves, these are not provided by the Jurchens, and our life in the grassland will be very difficult."

"Although there were a lot of constraints in the previous days, I was happy after all!"

King Tujun Khan couldn't help but retort: ​​"If it weren't for the chahar boys messing around, how could we form an alliance with the Jurchens and become a veritable subordinate..."

"Let's grab these things if they're gone. The south is the Ming Kingdom, so why don't you worry about not having anything?"

"Okay!" King Shetu Khan shook his head: "No matter what the result is, we must be of one mind. There are not many soldiers on the right-wing Five Banners. Only by gathering together can we have strength."

Although the words are not speculative, several people agree with this proposal.

King Xietu Khan, sweating all over his forehead, rode his horse back to the camp.

"Khan, how are you doing?"

A Mongolian man came over with an inquiring look on his face.

"It's not good." King Xietu said helplessly, "These two old boys just don't answer the conversation, pretending that they don't understand anything, but they are actually more villainous than anyone else."

"Fortunately, they promised me three people, otherwise it would be really hard to end."

"Prince Tujun is your nephew, you should be obedient."

"No, I'm old, and my words don't count."

King Xietu shook his head and smiled wryly.

But such an expression appeared on his stern face, which seemed very strange.

The big man nodded in agreement: "Khan, the Qing people have come, when will you see them?"

"Is the Ming army here?"

King Xietu sighed: "Just one person can't fetch a good price."

The big man showed a sly smile: "So I shunned you and went out, and I won't be back until two days later."

"By that time, the Ming people should also come."

King Xietu could only nod his head, and then waited for two more days. He couldn't shirk it, so he could only meet the Qing envoy.

"The Qing Dynasty needs five thousand troops from the right wing."

As the boss of Horqin's right wing, King Xietu naturally has a great say.

The envoy directly declared his intention.

"Five thousand?" King Xietu was taken aback: "There are not so many people. Hao Erlang has drawn the Eight Banners in the past few years. How can there be so many soldiers?"