MLMD -Chapter 126 Everyone with Their Own Designs

Upon learning that the men he had dispatched had already obtained Yue Yang’s latest model of matchlock firearms, Dorgon could not contain his excitement. Even with his normally deep reserve, he could not help but throw back his head and laugh aloud.

“Excellent, excellent, excellent! It seems even Eternal Heaven favors us. Who would have thought we could obtain this kind of firearm so easily? As long as we can successfully produce this type of matchlock, when we head south in the future, we will surely sweep aside the Great Ming!”

After rejoicing for quite some time, Dorgon suddenly remembered something. “Right—Wu Keshan, where are those two craftsmen? Have them bring all the matchlocks over for me to take a look at. And quickly invite Consort Zhuang as well—let her share in the joy!”

“Yes…”

Before long, a carriage slowly rolled up. Da Yu’er, dressed in a purple qipao, stepped down from it. As soon as she alighted, the two men hurried forward and loudly said, “This minister brother (this servant) Dorgon, Wu Keshan, pays respects to Your Highness!”

“All right, all right, we’re all family—why bother with such empty formalities? Hurry and get up.” The graceful and charming Da Yu’er quickly helped the two of them up. After all, one was her younger brother-in-law and the other her own elder brother—having them kneel and salute her was hardly appropriate.

“Thank you, Your Highness!” The two rose together.

After the greetings, Da Yu’er turned her bright eyes toward Wu Keshan. “Big Brother, I heard that the men you sent have already obtained my dear brother-in-law’s firearms. Is that true?”

“Your Highness, congratulations,” Wu Keshan replied, unable to hide his excitement. “The men we sent have already brought back the matchlocks. The two craftsmen we dispatched stayed in the Wuli Village military workshop for over a month and have learned the entire method of producing the firearms. They also brought back six newly made matchlocks. As long as we take these back and have our craftsmen copy them, we’ll be able to produce the same weapons ourselves. From now on, Later Jin will no longer have to fear the Ming’s firearms.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Da Yu’er was instantly delighted, joy lighting up her face. She praised Wu Keshan, “Big Brother, this time you’ve rendered great service. No wonder the Khan values you so highly.”

Wu Keshan modestly clasped his hands. “Thank you for Your Highness’s praise. This was simply my duty.”

Watching the two of them exchange compliments, Dorgon—who had originally been overjoyed—began to feel displeased. It had been his idea to send men to Wuli Village to steal the firearms and learn their manufacturing methods, yet now Da Yu’er seemed to have suddenly forgotten all about his contribution.

“Hmph. Enjoy yourselves while you can. There will come a day when we settle accounts.”

Suppressing his displeasure, Dorgon coughed lightly and said, “Wu Keshan, have those two craftsmen arrived? Bring the matchlocks over for me to take a look.”

Seeing the faintly expressionless look on Dorgon’s face, Wu Keshan immediately realized he had gone a bit too far in his excitement. He straightened at once and bowed. “Reporting to Your Lordship, I have already sent someone to summon the two craftsmen.”

Very soon, the two craftsmen were brought over by Wu Keshan’s son, Bilta Hahar. They were both Han craftsmen, plain-looking, dressed in tattered short jackets. Clearly warned beforehand, they knelt the moment they saw Dorgon and cried out, “This humble one pays respects to the Beile, and to all the honored lords!”

“Rise,” Dorgon said with a reserved air as he dismounted and helped them up. “You two have rendered great merit this time. I will certainly not treat you poorly. As long as you loyally serve Later Jin and work for me, silver and women will be yours. Do you understand?”

“Thank you, Beile!” The two craftsmen were overjoyed and immediately knelt again to kowtow.

“All right. Present the matchlock for me to see,” Dorgon said, barely able to contain himself.

When the craftsmen brought forward a matchlock, Dorgon took it in hand. As he examined the darkened barrel, the smooth wooden stock, and the exquisite workmanship, the smile on his face slowly faded into contemplation.

Handing the firearm back to the craftsmen, Dorgon pointed to a large tree a hundred paces away. “Fire a shot at that tree and let me see.”

“Yes…”

The two craftsmen quickly took out powder and lead balls and began loading. In less than a minute, one of them raised the loaded matchlock, aimed at the tree, and pulled the trigger. With a dull bang, a puff of white smoke rose into the air.

“Let’s go, take a look,” Dorgon said, waving his hand as he mounted his horse and galloped toward the tree. Wu Keshan, Da Yu’er, and the others exchanged glances and followed.

When they reached the tree, it took some searching before they found the lead ball. It had sunk nearly an inch deep into the trunk, and the originally round bullet had been crushed into an irregular shape by the tremendous force.

“Hiss…”

Seeing the bullet embedded so deeply, everyone drew in a sharp breath. None of them were ignorant men; they all knew the power of Ming firearms. Ordinary matchlocks usually had an effective range of only fifty or sixty paces. Yet this one could still penetrate a tree at a distance of a hundred paces—its lethality was obvious.

Wu Keshan took a breath and turned to ask the craftsmen, “I ask you—what is the maximum range of this type of firearm?”

The craftsman answered honestly, “Reporting to Your Excellency, this matchlock can fire over four hundred paces at most, but to wound a person, three hundred paces is required.”

“Three hundred paces…”

The crowd fell silent. The strongest Jurchen bows had a range of only about seventy paces—and that required the strongest warriors and the best bows. Yet this firearm could casually kill enemies at three hundred paces. Worse still, anyone could use it—even frail women or children. With only brief training, they could pick up such a weapon and kill heavily armored warriors who had trained for years. That was the truly terrifying part.

“Gulp…”

Someone nearby swallowed hard before stammering, “At least… at least we can also manufacture this kind of firearm now. Then we won’t need to fear the Ming armies anymore. You two slaves—after you return, you must work hard to produce these firearms for Later Jin. Rewards will certainly be generous.”

“Yes… this servant thanks the master for his reward.” The two craftsmen were overjoyed and, imitating the Jurchens, kowtowed again, causing everyone to burst into laughter.

After a long while, Da Yu’er smiled lightly and said, “All right, enough laughter. Now that we have the firearms and their method of production, it’s time to prepare for Bilta Hahar and Yatu’s wedding. Big Brother, didn’t you write to Elder Sister and Brother-in-law, inviting them to the Khorchin tribe for the wedding? Well… have they arrived yet?”

“This…”

Da Yu’er’s words struck exactly where it hurt. Wu Keshan’s face flushed, and he stammered for a long time without managing to reply.

Seeing his embarrassment, Da Yu’er sighed inwardly and said gently, “Big Brother, Elder Sister is still our family. You know her character well. Do you really think such a simple trick could deceive her and Brother-in-law into coming?”

“Yes… Your Highness speaks wisely,” Wu Keshan said, his face turning the color of liver. He lowered his head and fell silent. In truth, writing that letter had been Dorgon’s idea; he had merely carried it out. But how could he possibly say that in front of Dorgon now? The frustration in his heart was indescribable.

Compared to Wu Keshan’s discomfort, Dorgon appeared utterly unconcerned, gazing calmly into the distance. This sight made Da Yu’er secretly grit her teeth. She could not help recalling Hong Taiji’s usual assessment of his fourteenth brother: “If the Fourteenth Brother had been a few years older when Father Khan passed away, with his intelligence, the position of Great Khan might well have fallen into his hands.”

So much for there being no familial affection in royal houses. Now, Dorgon had already consolidated the Plain White Banner until it was like an iron wall, and he was actively plotting to secure the Bordered White Banner for his younger brother. If the two brothers succeeded in controlling both banners, they would have the capital to contend with Hong Taiji.

What Hong Taiji feared most was that after Nurhaci’s death, in order to seize the position of Great Khan, he had gone so far as to falsely proclaim Nurhaci’s final command and force Dorgon and Dodo’s mother—the Great Consort Abahai—to be buried alive with her husband. That had forged an irreconcilable hatred, nothing less than the enmity of killing one’s mother.

If Hong Taiji truly believed that the Dorgon brothers would continue to serve him loyally out of brotherly sentiment, then he was being far too naïve. Yet Dorgon’s scheming nature was so deep that, whether in public or private, he remained respectful and proper, leaving Hong Taiji no handle to grasp. This, too, was a source of Hong Taiji’s frustration. Though he was the Khan, he could hardly dispose of his own brothers without cause—doing so would plunge Later Jin into chaos.

Looking at Dorgon, who seemed entirely at ease, Da Yu’er sighed softly. Then she put on a warm smile and said to him, “Fourteenth Brother, now that the firearms are in hand, the next step is to hold Bilta Hahar and Yatu’s wedding. As an elder, you’ll have to drink a few extra cups tomorrow.”

Dorgon nodded, glanced at Bilta Hahar, and allowed a faint smile to appear. “Your Highness may rest assured. Forget a few cups—even if I drink myself under the table, this younger brother will not refuse.”

“Good, then it’s settled!” Da Yu’er said happily. “All right, since everything is taken care of, let’s go see Father.”

And so, a group of people—each harboring their own thoughts—chatted as they made their way toward the encampment of the Khorchin tribe…