Urgent military dispatches tore through the night along the northern frontier of Ming. The Oirat Grand Councillor Toghon had unleashed his full force—100,000 troops—before Datong's walls. Banners fluttered, hooves thundered, as though the entire border was about to be reduced to dust. But the true shock for the Ming commanders was not the sheer size of the enemy army—it was the unexpected tactical choice: Toghon's main force staged a feint before Datong, while his elite cavalry surged straight for the grain depots at Xuanfu.
Zhu Gaochi acted decisively, executing Li Ming's plan at once. When the military governor at Xuanfu and nearby outposts received the imperial orders—summoning them to abandon their fortified positions and lie in ambush in open terrain—they were stunned. No such gambit had ever been attempted before. Yet, the command came stamped by the new emperor himself and backed by the "prophetic insight" of the ailing Crown Prince Grandson. With hearts pounding, every officer resolved to carry it out.
Inside the Crown Prince's tent in the capital, Li Ming sat before a massive military sandbox map—a precise, high-resolution terrain rendering drawn at Wang Zhen's direction, using data from the "Super Library." Mountains and rivers, hidden ravines, dense woodland—all were depicted in stunning detail, giving the illusion of real presence.
Li Ming's finger traced the route of the Oirat cavalry on the sand. He began issuing orders tightly tied to specific hours, noted by Wang Zhen and swiftly approved by Zhu Gaochi before being sent off with dispatch horses across the frontier:
"Xuanfu cavalry brigade must reach Black Wind Pass by 7 a.m. tomorrow. Show presence, but hold fire—lure the enemy deeper!"
"Huailai garrison: set three successive obstacles on either side of Falling Horse Ravine. No killing—just delay!"
"Tongzhou bows and crossbows: hide on the cliffs above Eagle's Beak Gorge. When the Oirat cavalry enters the kill zone, unleash volleys of arrows!"
Every directive was surgically precise, targeting the cavalry's weaknesses. Li Ming had adapted modern military principles—"baiting the enemy in," "divide and encircle," "focus fire"—to the cold weapons era. Yang Shiqi, observing beside him, marveled: this sickly prince possessed the foresight of a battlefield genius.
Yet reality on the ground was messier than any war room projection.
The battle-hardened Xuanfu commander Zhang Fu received the imperial mandate with apprehension. Would the Oirat really take that route through Black Wind Pass? He sent forward his cavalry, holding his main force in reserve—a prudent hand of his own.
As expected, the Oirat vanguard thundered into Black Wind Pass like a storm. The cavalry commander squinted at the black mass of riders and slaughter horns. Doubt stirred; he felt the urge to withdraw.
Then a messenger burst in, waving a banner reading "Order of the Crown Prince Regent."
"Urgent! The Regent commands—do not retreat! Advance five more li! Set up a decoy position behind Soul-Breaking Slope! Let the Oirat vanguard see you!"
The cavalry commander froze. Five more li meant closer to the enemy—but he dared not defy the "Regent's" command. Knowing it came directly from the capital's genius commander, he ordered his men forward. Sure enough, positioned behind Soul-Breaking Slope, their feint drew the Oirat cavalry who charged, believing they faced a weakened foe.
They fired a few cold arrows and then staged a feigned retreat. The Oirats took the bait, roaring in chase.
At the same time, in Falling Horse Ravine, the Huailai garrison followed orders. They laid simple "tiger traps" and low snares on both sides of the ravine—but the commander remained uncertain. Would the Oirats really ride into this ambush?
Another dispatch arrived:
"Order of the Regent: At ten li outside the gorge mouth, scatter iron caltrops and leave small fires—as if a camp is in place!"
It sounded more like inviting trouble for themselves than setting a trap, but the commander dared not refuse.
Sure enough, the Oirat cavalry, drawn by spoils, surged into Falling Horse Ravine. When they saw the caltrops and flickering fires ten li in, their experienced leader sounded the alarm:
"Trap! Halt!"
But it was too late. As their force flooded the ravine's center, shouts and sparks rang from the cliffs—not Ming's main force, but Tongzhou's archers on Eagle's Beak Gorge, loosing lethal bolts in the dark.
"Fire!"
The arrows fell like plague, pinning the Oirat cavalry. Though the narrow terrain limited range, the surprise assault and hidden threat were devastating. At the same time, Huailai's troops deployed their crude barriers, blocking escape—delaying chaos was the goal, not killing.
"Damn it—this is deceit!" the Oirat leader roared. They had fallen into the trap.
All the while, war reports streamed back to Li Ming's war room via day-and-night pigeons and relay riders. He tracked each moment on the sandbox map, faintly smiling.
"Zhang Fu, you old fox… you almost ruined everything by preserving a reserve," he murmured, disdain lacing his voice.
Then he struck, eyes blazing with renewed vitality:
"Wang Zhen! Issue orders at once! Direct Zhang Fu to lead Xuanfu's main force through the northern mountain pass, encircle Falling Horse Ravine, and strike decisively—no hesitation! Report any delay to the Emperor for dereliction of duty!"
This new order cut through Zhang Fu's last misgivings. Li Ming aimed for far more than battlefield victory—he intended total command. He would remind all commanders that a new authority now ruled, and there would be no room for old self-interest.
In the capital tent, the "regent" strategized—thousand miles away, the frontline bloodshed raged on.
The Oirat's 100,000-strong host did not yet realize it: they were facing not a benevolent emperor, but a dark, calculating, wounded dragon, sharpened by ambition—exactly the kind of ruler that would shape the fate of the realm.