Amid the howling, bitter wind, the vanguard cavalry of the Zhejiang troops appeared just over a mile from Suzhou’s east gate. As they neared the gate, the cavalry reined in their horses, slowing their pace before fanning out to the sides. In the second echelon, Zhu Ping’an, flanked by Liu Dadao and others, spurred his horse forward, emerging from the ranks.
When they were about two hundred meters from the gate, Zhu Ping’an raised his right fist high, and the Zhejiang troops behind him halted their mounts in unison.
This discipline stemmed from Zhu Ping’an’s modern background, influenced by the military parades of his homeland, where he demanded strict adherence to both discipline and formation.
In terms of military discipline and organization alone, the Zhejiang troops under Zhu Ping’an’s command had already far surpassed other Ming armies by a wide margin.
On Suzhou’s city walls, Prefect Shang and a group of officials and soldiers watched, awestruck, as the Zhejiang troops stopped in perfect sync at Zhu Ping’an’s signal.
“Order and discipline—an army of strength! Say what you will, but Lord Zhu has a knack for training troops. The Zhejiang army is truly formidable,” one official remarked, stunned by the precision and order.
“Indeed, their formation is impeccable, beyond what most armies can achieve,” another added.
A few officials, shaken by the Zhejiang troops’ disciplined ranks, couldn’t help but voice their admiration.
“What’s the use of neat formations? War isn’t won by looking pretty. They might just be a shiny spearhead—nice to look at, useless in a fight,” a martial officer muttered, unconvinced.
“Lord Zhu favors firearms over blades, relying too heavily on them. That’ll cost him dearly in open combat,” another grumbled.
These martial officers were partly genuinely skeptical—those officials’ praise implicitly diminished their own forces—and partly indignant on General Wang’s behalf. The Zhejiang troops had accused their commander of defecting to the Japanese pirates without evidence, a slap in the face that fueled their resentment.
Prefect Shang gazed at Zhu Ping’an and the Zhejiang troops outside the city, his expression complex. Truth be told, he deeply admired Zhu Ping’an.
A poor scholar who topped the imperial exams, offended Grand Secretary Yan, and was demoted to the perilous Jingnan County, yet within half a year, not only staged a comeback but rose higher, becoming a fourth-rank official.
That wasn’t something just anyone could pull off.
Moreover, Zhu Ping’an excelled in both civil and military affairs—topping the exams with his pen and racking up battlefield merits with his sword. Take the recent battle at Fengqiao Camp: thousands of pirates fell, enough for another leap in rank.
Yet, in martial matters, while Zhu Ping’an outshone him, he was still a latecomer, young and green, lacking experience. As those outspoken officers noted, his heavy reliance on firearms clashed with the times. Neither the emperor’s guards, the border armies, the garrisons, nor even the pirates ravaging Jiangnan leaned so heavily on firearms—typically a mere thirty to forty percent of their arsenal.
But Zhu Ping’an not only favored firearms, he stubbornly clung to them, deaf to advice.
This made Prefect Shang uneasy.
Today, General Wang sallied out from the east gate, while Zhu Ping’an, ten miles away, somehow concluded he’d defected to the pirates.
True, the pirates’ ploy to lure them out was obvious, but Shang had warned General Wang repeatedly. Surely Wang had taken precautions before chasing them—couldn’t he have turned the tables and returned victorious?
And yet, the Zhejiang troops were brazenly shouting, “General Wang has defected! Those entering the east gate are pirates!” This could easily spark hostility and confrontation. If mishandled, it might even trigger a mutiny among the troops.
With pirates at the gates, a mutiny among the defenders—what would that mean?!
Zhu Ping’an was still too green, too inexperienced.
Of course, he was young, barely past twenty, so his lack of experience was understandable. Given time, with more seasoning, he’d soar—securing a place in the court, perhaps even rising to grand secretary.
But for now, he was still raw.
As Prefect Shang watched Zhu Ping’an, surrounded by his troops outside the city, his mind swirled with thoughts.
“This Zhu guy’s no pushover. Not only does he wield firearms well, but he’s got a real knack for leading and training troops. His men follow orders to the letter! Hasn’t the Zhejiang army only been recruited for a few months?!” Xu Hai, watching from outside, felt his wariness of Zhu Ping’an deepen as the troops halted neatly two hundred meters away.
Under the gaze of Shang and the others, Zhu Ping’an dismounted, advancing slowly with Liu Mu and others guarding him.
Seeing over a thousand disguised pirates still barred from entering, Zhu Ping’an felt a slight relief, but when he saw the gate still open, he couldn’t help but sigh and shake his head.
His voice was hoarse from shouting…
“Lord Shang…” Zhu Ping’an rasped, offering a distant salute to the prefect on the wall.
“Lord Zhu, good to see you well. Regarding your claim that General Wang defected to the pirates, we need to confirm it with you,” Shang returned the salute from the wall, about to question him when a commotion erupted at the gate. General Wang stormed out, furious.
“Zhu Ping’an, Lord Zhu, we’ve had no grudges past or present—why slander me?! Saying I surrendered to the pirates, that my victorious men are pirates—what’s your game?!” General Wang strode out, standing before the disguised pirates, pointing at Zhu Ping’an with gritted teeth.
“Exactly! We fought and bled with the general, chasing pirates, taking wounds, finally winning—yet Lord Zhu turns it all upside down with one baseless claim, calling us pirates?! Why treat us like this?!”
“My family’s been loyal for generations, and now Lord Zhu calls us pirates, disturbing my ancestors’ rest. If you don’t explain, I’ll smash my head against this wall today to prove my innocence with blood!”
The disguised pirates erupted in outrage, acting like wronged souls straight out of a tragedy.
“General Wang—no, you don’t deserve that title anymore. You surrendered to the pirates, colluding to seize Suzhou, making you an enemy of the city’s hundreds of thousands, of His Majesty, of the Ming! I’m tasked with protecting Suzhou—it’s my duty to expose your plot with the pirates and keep the city safe!” Zhu Ping’an’s hoarse voice rang out, his piercing gaze fixed on the blustering General Wang.
“Bullshit! Utter nonsense! All your one-sided lies!” General Wang spat, snarling, “The truth is, you’re jealous of my success against the pirates, afraid my merits will outshine yours. To protect your top spot, you’ll stoop to anything—slandering me as a traitor!”
“Hah, you’re not worth it…” Zhu Ping’an sneered, his lip curling as he looked at General Wang with disdain.
