Late Ming Dynasty: Starting from Crossing Li Zicheng and Establishing Xinshun

Frost's Descent in the Jiashen Year, Inside the Old Camp (October 23, 1644) The morning light on the Loess Plateau had just climbed onto the tent's felt curtain, and Li Zicheng was dipping brown rice cakes in sesame oil and listening to Li Guo's report on the progress of the new camp's reorganization. On the cowhide map, the Tongguan defense line was marked with a red rope as "Old Camp Zuoying Garrisoned", and half a basket of dried jujubes from northern Shaanxi were piled in the corner - this was the "taste of hometown" that Gao Guiying specially asked the red accountant to prepare. "Report! The Ming army general who was captured yesterday wants to see him." The soldiers opened the curtain, and a cold wind blew the butter lamp wick flickering. The middle-aged general who came in had not taken off his armor, with the Ming court's "Pingtai General Seal" hanging from his waist with a broken tassel, and the soles of his shoes were still stained with red clay from the Henan battlefield. Ming Jiang just stepped into the tent and saw Li Zicheng sitting behind a rough elm table. He knelt down without even having time to distinguish the figures on the table: "Here's the palm plate! The last general..." Before he could finish his words, suppressed sneers suddenly sounded in the tent. Hao Yaoqi banged his dry tobacco stick on the brazier: "Brother, your name is more authentic than Ma Bian in our old camp!" Several old brothers who followed Li Zicheng from Mizhi exchanged glances, and someone secretly muttered in northern Shaanxi dialect: "When we were in the children's camp, those who dared to call "the master of the plate" were all masters who could memorize the grain book of the Red Accountant." The brown rice cake in Li Zicheng's hand was hanging in the air, and his eyes swept over the stiff back of the Ming general - on the lining of this man's chest, the four words "loyalty, filial piety, justice" could be faintly embroidered, which was typical of the Qing style of the Ming army. He put down the cake, stood up and walked around the table. The rustle of his boot soles on the felt blanket made the tent instantly quiet. "Raise your head." The voice was rich with a northern Shaanxi accent. When General Ming raised his head, he met Li Zicheng's slightly narrowed eyes. There was a shallow scar at the end of his eye, which was left by being whipped by the postmaster at the post station. "Do you know what 'taking charge of the plate' means in the old camp?" Li Zicheng suddenly laughed and tapped the opponent's armor with his fingertips. "That was what the brothers shouted behind my back. Anyone who dared to shout in front of me was either a child who followed me to beg for food from Mizhi, or a ruthless person who could break into the camp with his head on his belt." The sound of the drill horn of the new camp came from outside the tent, and the Ming general's Adam's apple rolled twice. Just when he was about to change his name to "Your Majesty," Li Zicheng waved his hand: "Don't learn from the bad words of the new camp, our old camp is not so particular. Are you from Chenzhou, Henan?" He pointed to the red clay on the soles of the other party's shoes, "In the fifteenth year of Chongzhen, I opened a warehouse in Chenzhou, where were you at that time?" General Ming was stunned, and the veins under his armor were beating in his neck: "The last general... Was in Sun Chuanting's army at the time, and was responsible for escorting the transportation of grain and grass." "Oh, grain and fodder." Li Zicheng turned around and grabbed half a crumpled "Military Grain Distribution Map" from the corner of the table. The map was marked with cinnabar, "Chenzhouyi Grain Depot has been burned." "The grain and grass you escorted that year ended up in the stomachs of the hungry people. Now that you are here, do you want to continue to escort me to transport grain and grass, or do you want to continue to fight against me?" The old brothers in the tent burst into laughter, and General Li Gui Ming stuffed a piece of brown rice cake into his hand: "Eat, let's treat people more kindly than that boy in Chongzhen. When Hong Chengchou surrendered, he didn't let him kneel for so long." General Ming took a bite of the cake, and the rough wheat bran rubbed the corner of his mouth sore, but he suddenly discovered that Li Zicheng's belt was modified with post reins, and there were three pieces of leather on the upper. This almost shabby attire was completely different from the rebels he imagined who "arrogated the throne". "The last general, Zhang Shiyan, was originally under Zuo Liangyu." He suddenly took off his helmet, revealing his gray temples, "I heard Zhang..." He paused and switched to a northern Shaanxi accent, "I heard that the old master established households in Guanzhong and granted land to the soldiers, so that the soldiers could have three acres of thin farmland. Most of the brothers under the last general are refugees from Henan. If you can..." "What a great Zhang Shiyan." Li Zicheng patted him on the shoulder, turned to the soldiers and said, "Take him to the Red Account Division to register, and he will be incorporated into the right battalion of the old camp - let him learn to sing "Mizhi Diao" with Hao Yaoqi first, so as not to call the 'shopkeeper' as 'the shopkeeper's' next time." A burst of louder laughter broke out in the tent, and Hao Yaoqi stood up with a curse: "Granny, when we robbed the grain boat on the Yellow River, did you shoot three arrows at me? Let's go and identify the horse piles in our old camp first, and don't turn around and feed the war horses into mules!" When Zhang Shiyan followed Hao Yaoqi out of the camp, Li Zicheng sat down again and rubbed the "master's seal" on the desk with his fingertips - it was an old jujube wood engraved with the copper bell of the inn, and there were still teeth marks on the corners of the children's campsite. Li Guo looked at the map and suddenly said: "This guy is smart and knows that our old camp values the title of 'one of our own'." "Only the wise can survive." Li Zicheng grabbed the dried dates and stuffed them into his mouth. The sweet taste was mixed with the grit of wheat bran. "Xinying shouted 'Your Majesty' all day long until his throat smoked. It's not as practical as our old brother saying 'take charge of the plate'. No." Pass..." He glanced at the direction of the new camp outside the tent, where the sound of "Long Live the Emperor" was heard, "When they enter Beijing, you should let your sister-in-law teach them when to call 'Your Majesty' and when to call 'Master'." The morning light passed through the felt curtain, casting tiny spots of light on his patched robe. This "man in charge" who came out of Mizhi is now the patriarch of the brothers in Laoying, the civil servant of Xinying, and the khan of the prince of Fanying - and all the titles ultimately point to the same goal: so that those who follow him, whether they are Laoying, Xinying or Fanying, can have a piece of land to grow food and a mouthful of food to eat in this troubled world. Outside the tent, Zhang Shiyan was singing "Welcome the King of Chuang" in northern Shaanxi dialect with Hao Yaoqi. His off-key voice mixed with the neighing of war horses spread in the frosty morning mist. The brothers in the old camp laughed and cursed, but no one noticed that Li Zicheng quietly turned over the "head seal" to reveal the four words "Equal land and no tax" engraved on the bottom - this was the title he really wanted everyone to remember.

Don't worry, the writing is quite unique.

How much does the author know about the Peasant War in the late Ming Dynasty?