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  The Artillery Is Brought to Bear — Yu Tonghai’s Counterstrike

  Yu Tonghai was the commander most proficient in artillery operations during this campaign.

  He did not hesitate. From Zhu Yuanzhang’s command ship, he issued the order at once.

  “Commence artillery fire!”

  The cannon ships that had been held in reserve revealed themselves.

  Their gunports rotated toward Chen Youliang’s charging vessels.

  “Fire!”

  Smoke and flame swallowed Poyang Lake.

  Dozens of Chen Youliang’s ships shattered in an instant.

  Within moments, gunpowder smoke and mist mixed together, blurring the boundary between sky and water.

  The roar of cannon fire rolled low across the lake.

  Cannonballs struck the surface, throwing up columns of water that briefly rose like hills before breaking apart across the decks.

  The spray, heated by the blast, struck iron plating and rang with sharp metallic echoes.

  Zhang Dingbian’s Charge

  At that moment, Zhang Dingbian—one of Chen Youliang’s elite commanders—spotted a white banner through the haze.

  It was Zhu Yuanzhang’s ship.

  “There! Zhu Yuanzhang is there!”

  Clutching his battle robe, Zhang Dingbian lashed three ships together in a single line and charged forward.

  He forced his way into the shallows, pressing directly toward Zhu Yuanzhang’s vessel.

  The area was a broad sandbar.

  Zhu Yuanzhang’s ship, recoiling from artillery fire, was pushed onto the sandbar.

  Its movement slowed—then stopped completely, like a stake driven into the water.

  The wind fell silent.

  The surface current smoothed and stilled.

  In that instant, Zhang Dingbian’s assault ships slammed in from both sides.

  Zhu Yuanzhang gripped the railing and steadied himself.

  “Defend him! His Majesty is in danger!”

  But the large ship could not be freed at once.

  At that moment, an arrow tore through the air and struck with piercing force.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  It hit Zhang Dingbian squarely in the chest.

  “Captain Yi!”

  Yi Xianzhang, firing from afar, had saved Zhu Yuanzhang with that shot.

  Still, Zhu Yuanzhang’s ship remained trapped on the sandbar.

  Just before they were fully surrounded, a small allied vessel—fleeing the battle—brushed past.

  Yi Xianzhang seized Zhu Yuanzhang and transferred him onto the smaller boat.

  That was when it happened.

  Chen Youliang’s artillery roared, and Zhu Yuanzhang’s flagship exploded.

  From the small vessel, Zhu Yuanzhang gasped for breath as he watched his burning command ship.

  A single delayed breath, and he would have died there.

  Flames surged.

  Fragments of banners scattered through the air.

  Yet his gaze reached beyond the fire.

  Even now, his mind was already calculating how today’s disorder could become tomorrow’s alignment.

  The outcome of the day had not yet decided the entire war.

  The true decision still lay ahead.

  The Second Day of the Battle of Poyang Lake

  When the full engagement began on the second day, a dry north wind pushed down from the upper reaches of the lake.

  It was a shift in the very conditions of fate.

  Each change in the wind altered the course of the battle.

  In missile combat, fighting with the wind at one’s back was decisive.

  At the center of the lake, the direction in which the banners of Zhu Yuanzhang’s and Chen Youliang’s fleets leaned made it clear where fortune rested.

  The wind drove Chen Youliang’s tower-ship fleet directly toward Zhu Yuanzhang’s vessels.

  “The wind—it's coming down!”

  Chen Youliang’s fleet surged as one.

  Sails billowed tight, and the oarsmen could drive the great ships forward with less effort.

  Each taut stretch of canvas translated directly into speed, pulling the massive vessels onward.

  Chen Youliang’s main fleet was a floating fortress.

  Tower ships rising thirty zhang high, three and four decks tall.

  Iron plates and metal fittings reinforced their sides to deflect arrows.

  On the upper decks stood rows of catapults, arrow racks, and stone-throwers.

  Below, the lower decks held cavalry and infantry staging platforms.

  On the highest decks, tens of thousands of arrows were stacked and ready.

  As the great ships caught the wind at the center of the lake, they looked like massive red masses racing across the water.

  Waves split and rejoined beneath them, producing a deep, low thunder.

  Chen Youliang’s forces loosed their arrows first.

  With the wind behind them and firing from higher elevation to lower targets, their range increased dramatically.

  Zhu Yuanzhang’s lighter ships rocked under the impact.

  Thud. Thud. Thud.

  The sound of arrows striking iron mixed with the groan of strained hulls.

  They were disadvantaged in both position and scale.

  Chen Youliang’s ships pressed down from above, while Zhu Yuanzhang’s ships endured from below.

  Zhu Yuanzhang’s line was pushed back.

  Ming light vessels surged forward, searching for gaps in the storm of arrows pouring from the tower ships.

  They slipped into thinning currents, gliding into the enemy formation.

  The wind continued to press downward, driving the great fleet forward.

  When a single large ship shifted course, dozens of smaller vessels moved with it.

  The shock of that mass alone rocked Zhu Yuanzhang’s small craft, knocking sailors into the water.

  Those who fell grabbed ropes or outstretched hands along the hulls and pulled themselves back aboard.

  Yu Tonghai raised his hand.

  “Prepare artillery. Open the gunports.”

  Small Ming cannon ships emerged from both flanks.

  In that instant, artillery fire erupted toward the tower fleet.

  Flames burst along the sides of Chen Youliang’s ships, and hulls shuddered.

  But the tower ships endured.

  Their mass absorbed the impact.

  Iron plates rang, nails flew loose—but the hulls righted themselves.

  Then, from behind the tower fleet, hundreds of small assault craft surged forward.

  They were the shock troops.

  Low-decked, highly maneuverable vessels, with javelin throwers and fire-lance crews along the sides.

  Hooks were mounted at the bow, ready to latch on the moment they made contact.

  Their target was singular.

  As the assault craft charged toward Zhu Yuanzhang’s command ship, shouts rose from his deck.

  “Block them! Don’t let them attach!”

  But the small boats slipped swiftly between the larger vessels.

  The wind favored Chen Youliang’s side—Zhu Yuanzhang’s ships were pushed back, while the attackers were driven forward.

  It was not only ships that surged toward them.

  A rain of arrows followed with the wind.

  From above, high-angled arrows and stones poured down.

  From below, hooks and ropes flew upward.

  Zhu Yuanzhang’s banner was torn by arrows, leaving only half of it clinging to the railing.

  The remaining banner still stood.