Don’t talk about the Little Ice Age—its effects were felt in the north, but in the south, it only meant a thin layer of ice formed on Lake Tai during winter. The three major grain-producing regions—Sichuan, the Jianghan Plain, and the Yangtze River Delta—were completely unaffected. Although grain cultivation in Jiangnan had greatly decreased due to the booming textile industry, don’t forget that sweet potatoes were already being grown in Guangdong and Fujian by this time, so there was absolutely no way this region would run out of surplus grain.

　　Even the northern gentry had some in their hands.

　　If they had been willing to spend their money and grain to help the disaster victims, the common people would never have been forced to rebel.

　　This issue was already raised by an official at the beginning of the seventeenth year of Chongzhen’s reign.

　　“Today’s wealthy gentry live off rents and taxes, sucking the lifeblood of the people. In peacetime, they manipulate profits to fool the people and monopolize the benefits. When trouble comes, they expect the poor to risk their lives to protect them—how is that reasonable? The Prince of Qin was the richest in the land, and when the bandits broke into the Xi’an treasury, they seized no less than ten million, all of which funded the bandits. If, in peacetime, he had taken less from the people and spent more to reward the soldiers in times of trouble, things might not have come to this. I also heard that when Laiyang fell, the local gentry Zhang Hongde tried to profit from the bandits’ retreat, chasing after the villagers to collect rewards, flogging and tormenting them. One family rebelled, and the whole county suffered. When the invaders arrived, they forced Hongde to reveal his hidden wealth, took a million in gold, and then slaughtered his entire household. Today’s wealthy gentry should take this as a warning. If we borrow a bit from the equal-field system and have the rich donate a little to relieve the poor, it would also be a way to save the people and restore order.”

　　This was a memorial from the Censorate of the Ministry of War at the beginning of the seventeenth year of Chongzhen’s reign.

　　Likewise, if it weren’t for those corrupt officials wantonly annexing land, even forcing the core military households of the Ming army into serfdom, the army wouldn’t have rotted to such an irredeemable state. Frankly, defeating the Jianzhou Jurchens shouldn’t have been so difficult—if you brought back the Ming troops from Zhu Yuanzhang’s era, or even Zhu Di’s era, before the military household system decayed, they could have used their pike formations to topple the “wild boar skins” all the same.

　　Heavy infantry with shield carts was not an unsolvable problem.

　　Similarly, if the northern gentry hadn’t preferred to let foreign tribes enter the pass rather than accept Abraham Lincoln, there wouldn’t have been the Battle of Shanhai Pass, nor would they have acted as accomplices, letting the Manchus sweep across the land. In the end, it was the rebel peasant armies who became the defenders of the Ming.

　　The Ming dynasty was destroyed by the gentry.

　　Not by the starving people.

　　The former was the cause; Abraham Lincoln was merely the inevitable result.

　　If it hadn’t been Abraham Lincoln, someone else would have taken Beijing.

　　Brian Carter was lost in thought when suddenly a familiar figure appeared in his line of sight. In the crowd across the street, the Jin Yiwei who had originally been with him, but then fled first without a second thought, was now looking at him in confusion...

　　Brian Carter suddenly had a bad feeling.

　　Almost at the same time, that guy suddenly burst out of the crowd and dropped to his knees in the middle of the street. Two cavalrymen at the front immediately shouted angrily and raised their spears.

　　“King Chuang, someone is trying to assassinate King Chuang!”

　　That guy screamed.

　　The two cavalrymen immediately reined in their horses.

　　At the same time, a general behind Abraham Lincoln spurred his horse forward. The street erupted into chaos on both sides, but Abraham Lincoln simply stayed on his horse, calmly watching as the cavalry quickly surrounded him.

　　The general quickly reached the front, and under the Jin Yiwei’s direction, immediately turned his gaze to Brian Carter.

　　Brian Carter looked at him gloomily.

　　“Ha, let’s see where you run this time!”

　　The general whom he had shot back at Zhengyang Gate said gleefully.

　　“Uh, we meet again.”

　　Brian Carter stood up and said helplessly.

　　Almost as he spoke, he grabbed the official beside him who was there to greet King Chuang. The official was truly unlucky—he was just waiting to pledge his loyalty to King Chuang, never expecting that an assassin was hiding behind him. Just as he was about to flee this place of trouble, Brian Carter grabbed his belt and flung him forward. The general thrust his spear, instantly piercing the old man through the chest, then roared and flung him aside. The official fell with a miserable scream, but at the same time, as he threw the man, Brian Carter crashed into the courtyard gate behind him. The general waved his spear, and dozens of cavalrymen immediately vaulted over the wall on horseback. As they landed, Brian Carter had already scrambled onto the roof.

　　However, Brian Carter had miscalculated.

　　He had just reached the roof and hadn’t even found his footing when a dozen sharp arrows flew at him almost simultaneously. He hurriedly dove forward but rolled off the roof, and before he could get up, a Yanling saber was already at his ear. In a split second, he rolled aside to dodge, and as the blade struck the ground, he grabbed a pot of winter plum and stood up, pushing it forward.

　　The second saber strike came down, scattering petals and smashing the flowerpot.

　　But it bought him a chance.

　　Amid the falling red petals, he grabbed the general’s sword hand with his right hand, yanked it back, and at the same time slammed his left shoulder into the general’s chest. The general was knocked violently backward, and Brian Carter’s right hand slid back, pushing the saber guard so that the blade instantly came into his own hand. But just then, two more soldiers arrived, their Yanling sabers coming down together. Brian Carter, now holding the saber in reverse, blocked upward and pushed them aside. The general took the opportunity to steady himself and caught a spear handed over by a subordinate, then, without hesitation, thrust it straight at Brian Carter’s chest. But Brian Carter twisted his body with ghostlike agility, rolling almost flush against the spear shaft into the general’s arms. In the next instant, the Yanling saber was pressed firmly against the general’s neck.

　　“Impressive skills!”

　　Abraham Lincoln’s applause sounded at the gate.

　　“General, my apologies!”

　　Brian Carter straightforwardly handed the saber hilt back to the general.