Nine dragons fight for the throne, I don't want to sit on this throne

The water of the Yangtze River in September is not as turbulent as it is in midsummer, but it still carries a bit of the heat.

A thin mist was rising from the surface of the river, glowing with a golden halo under the morning sun.

The reeds on the north bank have begun to turn yellow, making rustling sounds as they sway in the wind. Occasionally, a few egrets are startled from the reeds and fly across the sparkling water.

In this hazy morning mist, five huge black shadows slowly emerged.

At first, there were only a few vague outlines, but as the distance got closer, the towering ship tower and the hull as thick as a city wall gradually became clear.

This is the Fuchuan, a mobile fortress on the Yangtze River, built with great effort by the Han craftsmen.

The leading flagship "Zhenjiang" was the first to break out of the fog.

The bow of the ship stands high like a dragon's head, and the animal face patterns painted in vermilion lacquer and gold sparkle in the morning sun.

The three-story ship tower stands tall and majestic, with shooting holes on each floor, and the black crossbow arrows flashing coldly.

The most eye-catching thing is the three giant catapults on the deck, with the tendon ropes on the capstans as tight as bowstrings.

The twelve pairs of oars on the side rose and fell in unison, stirring up white waves on the river.

Although the four Fu ships following closely behind are similar in shape, differences can be found upon closer inspection.

The hulls of the "Breaking Waves" and "Fubo" were painted with new and shiny paint, the sails were taut, and the sailors were moving swiftly between the masts.

The remaining three ships looked much rougher.

The portholes of the Dingyuan had not yet been fitted with wooden bars, the steering wheel of the Pinghai was only temporarily fixed with hemp ropes, and the unfinished bulkhead skeletons of the Jingjiang could even be seen, like the ribs of a giant beast stripped of its flesh and blood.

"Look! It's a Fu ship!" The soldier on the watchtower on the north bank suddenly shouted.

The cry was like a stone thrown into still water, instantly causing ripples.

The boatman who was repairing the fishing net threw down his tools, the patrolling soldiers rushed to the shore, and even countless figures rushed out from the tents where smoke was curling up.

I don't know who raised the spear and cheered first, but in a blink of an eye, the whole river bank was boiling.

The sailors on the boat were even more excited. Some took off their leather armor and slapped the side of the boat, while others threw their water scoops high into the air. The splashing water reflected colorful light in the sunlight.

"His Majesty has arrived!" With the loud voice of the messenger, the crowd parted like a tide.

The Han Emperor Liu Che, dressed in a bright yellow uniform with dragon patterns, strode forward surrounded by his imperial guards.

The September sunshine gave him a golden edge, and the jade pendant on his waist jingled with every step.

The navy commander, Zhou Yu, stepped forward quickly, his armor clasping his fists in salute as he saluted.

"Your Majesty, the craftsmen worked day and night and lived up to your trust."

Liu Che stroked his beard and smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes smoothing out. "Excellent! With such a sharp weapon, why worry about the Chu army not being defeated?"

As he spoke, his eyes were always fixed on the river surface, and the Fu ship reflected in his pupils seemed to have smashed the enemy ship.

At this time, the flagship was just approaching the shore. The collision between the hull and the dock stirred up waves, which wet the clothes and armor of the soldiers on the shore, but no one dodged - everyone looked up at this behemoth.

With a dull thud, an elm board more than three meters long was placed heavily onto the dock.

General Jiang Mao, who had stepped off the Zhenjiang, knelt on one knee, water droplets dripping off his armor.

"The blessed ship is ready, Your Majesty, please review it!"

His voice was loud, but if you looked closely you could see beads of sweat beading on his temples.

When Liu Che stepped onto the springboard, the wooden board groaned under the heavy weight.

Zhou Yu hurried forward to support him, but the emperor waved his hand to refuse.

The moment the dragon-patterned boots stepped onto the deck, the entire ship seemed to sink slightly - this was not a real scene, but a common illusion of the surrounding soldiers.

The sailors on the deck knelt down in unison, and the sea breeze, carrying the smell of tung oil and rust, blew in their faces.

"This is the ship's catapult."

Jiang Mao led everyone toward the catapult in the center of the deck, his knuckles turning white from exertion.

"The range is 200 steps, and it can throw kerosene stones."

As he spoke, he opened the wooden box next to him. It was filled with pottery jars, and the pungent smell of pine oil from a fierce fire could be faintly smelled.

Liu Che nodded with satisfaction, but did not notice that the rope that fixed the catapult was brand new - it was clearly a device that was urgently installed last night.

When everyone entered the cabin, the difference became more obvious.

The bottom holds of the first two Fujian ships were tightly divided, and a bronze plaque with the words "Yongchang Wood Company" was nailed to each watertight compartment.

The bulkheads of the last three ships were just hastily erected wooden frames, and even the waterproof paint had not dried thoroughly.

When passing an unfinished compartment, Zhou Yu suddenly quickened his pace and used his body to block the emperor's sight - the compartment was full of sawdust and broken wood that had not been transported away in time.

"strangeness."

Liu Che suddenly stopped and asked: "Why is there a sound of water accumulating in the rear cabin?"

Jiang Mao's face turned pale instantly.

Zhou Yu thought quickly and said, "Your Majesty, this is a specially designed water storage tank. In wartime..."

Before he could finish his words, the sound of breaking wood suddenly came from a distance, followed by the hurried footsteps of the sailors.

Everyone's hearts were in their throats.

Fortunately, the emperor's attention was drawn to the scene on the top deck.

Standing on the five-meter-high command platform, you can have a panoramic view of the entire river.

The Chu army's water fort on the south bank was faintly visible, and several patrol boats were turning around and heading back in a panic.

Liu Che held onto the copper-clad railing and laughed, "Pass on my order: tonight at midnight, attack the Chu camp!"

When getting off the boat, Liu Che suddenly asked, "Where is Chu Ning?"

Zhou Yu secretly breathed a sigh of relief: "The scouts reported that it will take at least three days."

A gleam of light flashed in Liu Che's eyes. "Very good! Within three days, I will sink the Chu army's flag to the bottom of the river!"

His back as he left with a flick of his sleeves cast a long shadow in the autumn sun, but he did not see Jiang Mao's trembling hands behind him.

After the imperial carriage had gone far away, Jiang Mao grabbed Zhou Yu's arm armor and said, "General! Two ships against five is still manageable, but we only have two capable of fighting!"

His nails almost dug into the gaps in the armor.

Zhou Yu coldly shook him off: "Shut up! The Chu army only has two Fu ships, the outcome is still uncertain."

After saying this, he put down his sword and left. The sound of his iron boots clattering on the pier was like a death knell to Jiang Mao's heart.

At the same time, on the observation deck of the "Feiyun" Fuzhou ship on the south bank, Ran Ming's bald head was shining green under the scorching sun.

He held on to the parapet with his strong arms, unaware that the deck was scorching from the sun.

"Five blessed ships?"

He sneered and wiped away the sweat that trickled into his eyes: "The old Han Emperor is quite generous."

Deputy General Zhou Tai handed over the water bag with a worried look on his face: "Our army only has two Fuzhou ships. If a battle breaks out, I'm afraid we will be no match for the Han army."

"Why are you so cowardly!"

Ran Ming tilted his head back to drink water, and the leaked liquid flowed down his neck and into the chain mail. "Our ships were built several years earlier than theirs, and our soldiers have long been proficient in operating them!"

As he spoke, he suddenly threw the water bag against the side of the boat, startling a group of river gulls.

"Order! All baton poles are coated with kerosene, and crossbow arrows are replaced with barbed arrows—we will wait here for His Majesty to arrive!"

The river wind gradually rose, sweeping up the murderous aura from both sides of the river.

The unfinished Fuchuan on the north bank creaked and whimpered in the wind, like some ominous omen.

The Yangtze River continues to flow in the autumn, carrying the atmosphere of the impending bloody battle to even greater distances.