Chapter 459: The Emperor

The Chongzhen Emperor summoned them mainly to discuss the strategic question of Jinzhou.

Chen Xinjia had been advocating his four-pronged offensive strategy before him, while Hong Chengchou firmly opposed it. Viceroy Hong was seasoned in military affairs, and the Chongzhen Emperor still trusted him; moreover, Hong Chengchou was close to Ningyuan and Jinzhou and understood the actual fighting on the front lines. Could those in the rear be merely armchair strategists?

In his heart, the Chongzhen Emperor supported Chen Xinjia’s plan and urgently hoped the Great Ming could win a major victory to shake off the fear of Liaodong campaigns that had gripped everyone since the Wanli era. Yet war was perilous and fraught with danger — one misstep and they would repeat the disaster of Dalinghe, with the elite of the Nine Frontier Garrisons destroyed in a single day. That forced the Chongzhen Emperor to be cautious.

So he wavered, desperately hoping for sound advice from all sides.

In the Chongzhen Emperor’s mind, Wang Dou possessed unique insight in both strategy and tactics, far beyond the ordinary military man, so he especially wished to hear Wang Dou’s opinion in person.

Chen Xinjia, Zhang Ruoqi, and the others had already said more than enough. Wang Chengen was responsible for provisions and merit records — it was inconvenient to let him meddle in strategic matters, and he was unfamiliar with Liaodong and could not offer anything substantial. So the Emperor had the several military officers present each express their own views.

But Wang Pu and Fu Yingchong, Vice General of the Shenji Battalion’s Forward Battalion, could say nothing of substance, only declaring they would devote themselves wholeheartedly and fight diligently for the nation. Fu Yingchong even thumped his chest and declared, “Your Majesty need only rest assured — our Shenji Battalion will surely fight bravely and slay the foe, and show those slave rebels that we sons of the capital can fight too.”

Seeing Fu Yingchong’s manner, the Chongzhen Emperor was pleased and said, “Since the Tumu Fortress, the scions of meritorious noble houses have rarely distinguished themselves. General Fu’s words give me great comfort, and I look forward to the Shenji Battalion winning its own prestige and momentum.”

At this point, he recalled another Shenji Battalion officer, the current Liugou Regional Commander Chen Jiugao. He had heard that after Chen arrived on the Nanshan Route, he and Wang Dou had clashed badly, and Chen Jiugao had even submitted a memorial accusing Wang Dou of arrogance and insolence toward him. That Chen Jiugao said such things actually pleased the Chongzhen Emperor.

Yang Guozhu certainly understood the situation beyond the passes, but he had always believed that strategic planning was the business of court ministers and civil officials, and that his own duty was simply to fight well.

Yet since the Emperor was asking, he had to speak his true thoughts. He understood that what each person said now could very well determine the fate of a future campaign involving over a hundred thousand troops — not something to treat lightly. So he pondered carefully, weighing and refining his words, and for a long time he remained silent, not uttering a single word.

Everyone’s eyes turned to Wang Dou.

Wang Dou said, “I make bold to ask — would Your Majesty permit the Liaodong map to be brought?”

Very quickly, a Liaodong map was brought. This map was naturally the Great Ming’s most detailed map of the lands beyond the passes. Though somewhat inferior to Wang Dou’s sand table, it was already extremely accurate, utterly different from the impressionistic maps Wang Dou had seen before. Maps circulated publicly in the Great Ming, due to the need for secrecy, were often drawn with great exaggeration; the map before them was far more realistic.

Wang Dou pointed to the cities of Jinzhou and Ningyuan on the map and said, “It is obvious that the eastern slaves’ strategy is to besiege the point and strike the reinforcements, so when the great army meets them in battle, they will certainly use every means imaginable. From Jinzhou to Ningyuan is nearly two hundred li, and the supply route is long. The slave rebels will surely try every method to sever our army’s provisions. No scheme is more vicious than cutting off supplies — once the supply route is severed, the great army is in mortal danger!”

Zhang Ruoqi and the others all nodded. Even Wang Pu and Yang Guozhu wore grave expressions — what they feared most was precisely the failure of supplies and the army going hungry.

The Chongzhen Emperor also furrowed his brow in deep thought. Wang Dou continued, “The Ji-Liao Grand Coordinator Hong says we should fight while maintaining a defensive posture and must not divide our forces, lest we be destroyed piecemeal by the slaves. That being so, the hundred-thousand-strong army must concentrate in one place — and where is that place? It is Songshan!”

As soon as Wang Dou said this, everyone understood. Songshan, Xingshan, Tashan, and Ningyuan were mutually dependent and could support one another. If they were Hong Chengchou, they would certainly deploy in the same way.

Wang Dou said, “Our Nine-Frontier great army will concentrate, with over a hundred thousand troops at that time. Meanwhile, the slaves at Jinzhou number no more than forty thousand. Would they meet our army in battle with only forty thousand? The slave chieftain’s ambitions are not small, nor is he an ordinary figure. When the time comes, he will surely pour out his entire nation against us. Where will they attack our army?” …

Wang Dou traced an arrow from Jinzhou westward across the Xiaoling River and the Nüer River, skirting the Xingshan mountain range, then suddenly turning east and landing heavily on Xingshan Fortress: “Right here!”

Everyone was jolted with alarm. The Chongzhen Emperor’s face turned ashen, and a chill ran through his entire body. Wang Dou’s assertion that the slave rebels would come with their whole nation was entirely plausible.

When the time came, if the slave army fiercely assaulted Xingshan Fortress, the rear-guard troops were few — how could they hold? Moreover, the Xingshan range was not far from the sea, and the eastern slaves were most adept at digging trenches. They might even, as they had at Jinzhou, dig several long trenches in front of Xingshan Fortress, instantly cutting the Songshan army off from contact with the rear.

Without provisions, the great army would collapse nine times out of ten, and all his countless efforts would vanish like smoke.

Even if they were not cut off, the relief army would still have to fight continuous, bloody battles with the slaves to contest the rear route — losses that could have been avoided in the first place.

The Chongzhen Emperor gave a heavy snort and said, “He has a forward strategy but no rear defense. Hong Chengchou claims to be seasoned in military affairs, yet he cannot see such an obvious blunder?”

For a moment, the thought of replacing Hong Chengchou arose in him, but he forcibly suppressed it.

Chen Xinjia’s eyes flickered. Wang Dou was indeed a prodigy at commanding troops and fighting battles, and equally outstanding in strategy.

Although he himself had touched on this point, he had not explained it with such penetrating clarity and gripping force as Wang Dou. For a moment, a surge of jealousy welled up in him. But at this moment, Wang Dou was on the same side as him; the more brilliantly Wang Dou performed, the more persuasive his own strategy became.

At this point, he actually spoke in Hong Chengchou’s defense: “Viceroy Hong also has his reasons. The defeat at Sarhu was precisely because Yang Hao divided his forces and advanced recklessly — a lesson from the past that we must guard against.”

The Chongzhen Emperor snorted, “Before planning for victory, plan against defeat. The relief army goes to lift the siege of Jinzhou, but it must at least guarantee it will not be defeated itself. If the great army falls into a death trap, where would I find reinforcements?”

Wang Pu and Fu Yingchong, their faces pale from the prospect Wang Dou had just depicted, both hastily chimed in, “His Majesty is sagely wise — the rear route is indeed vital, and the supply line must not be lost.”

The Chongzhen Emperor pointed at Xingshan and said, “The rear route must be firmly held. As for the rest of the strategy, Loyal and Valiant Count, explain it carefully for me.”

He had developed great trust and conviction in Wang Dou and could not wait for him to continue his exposition.

Wang Dou knew he had said enough on this point. What followed, he explained, was a decisive bloody battle with the slaves at Songshan and Xingshan, advancing step by step, seeing who could outlast whom. If an opportunity presented itself, they could then implement the four-pronged offensive strategy that Chen Xinjia had proposed.

“With our great army outside, the slaves will not dare press a deadly assault on Jinzhou. The eastern slaves have few troops, and forming an army is not easy — each man lost is one less. They cannot outlast our Great Ming in a war of attrition. Once they feel the gains are not worth the losses, they will withdraw of their own accord, and the siege of Jinzhou will be lifted. When they retreat, their edge will be lost, and our troops’ morale will be high. We can then attack Dalinghe, Yizhou, and other places, recovering lost territory for our Great Ming.”

The Chongzhen Emperor nodded repeatedly. The plan Wang Dou laid out was still very prudent. Although he dearly wanted a glorious, decisive victory, he also sensed that was unrealistic.

If they could recapture Yizhou and other places, it would be something to show both the court and the common people. Recovering lost territory would count as a great victory, and the boost to military morale and spirit would be self-evident.

He mused privately that making Wang Dou Minister of War would be more fitting than Chen Xinjia — though, of course, that was merely a passing thought.

…

The audience lasted until the shen hour before ending. Wang Pu and Fu Yingchong were beside themselves with excitement, still intoxicated by their exchange with the Emperor just now.

Yang Guozhu was deep in thought over Wang Dou’s words, while Chen Xinjia chatted and laughed amiably with Wang Dou.

Stroking his beard with a smile, Chen Xinjia said, “Loyal and Valiant Count, your words are pure gold and fine jade. What you said just now has suddenly opened this Minister of War’s mind.”

Wang Dou laughed and replied, “It was only because this Minister of War laid out the gems first; I merely picked up the crumbs from your table afterward.”

The two exchanged flattery as they followed the eunuch’s guidance out along the path of the Imperial Garden.

Just as they reached a small pond, they saw beside a cluster of flowering trees a graceful young maiden in palace attire, accompanied by several palace maids.

The maiden wore a long skirt, her black hair hanging low, set off by the flowering trees, indescribably elegant and gentle. Something stirred in Wang Dou’s heart, and two lines of verse suddenly surfaced in his mind. Unconsciously he murmured them aloud: “The most tender moment is when she lowers her head, like a water lily shy before the cool breeze.” …

Though his voice was low, Wang Pu and Fu Yingchong had sharp ears and both heard it. Their eyes lit up, and they praised, “Fine poetry indeed.”

At that moment, the maiden looked over — about fourteen or fifteen years old, pure and beautiful, shy and reticent, with eyes as clear as autumn water. Chen Xinjia and Yang Guozhu were stunned: “Princess Kunxing?”

None of them dared be remiss and hurried forward to pay their respects.

But Princess Kunxing, Zhu Meichuo, was simply gazing at Wang Dou, her pretty face a mixture of surprise and delight. She lifted her skirt and ran over in small steps, exclaiming happily, “Loyal and Valiant Count?”

Suddenly she let out a soft “Ah!”, realizing she had lost her composure. She snapped open a fan to cover her blushing face, lifted her skirt, and scurried away in a flash, leaving the palace maids scrambling after her in confusion.

Wang Dou: “……”

The remaining people looked at one another in bewilderment. Wang Pu and Fu Yingchong, in particular, glanced from the princess’s retreating figure to Wang Dou, their eyes darting back and forth.

…

On the twenty-sixth day of the sixth month of the fourteenth year of the Chongzhen reign, outside the Desheng Gate, at the Grand Parade Ground.

At the beginning of the mao hour, the area around the parade ground was already a sea of people. Today was the day of the Emperor’s grand military review, and virtually every able-bodied resident of the capital had come. The taller buildings near the parade ground had all been rented out, and the rooftops of houses at every alley entrance around the ground were densely packed with people.

From Deshengmen Avenue all the way to the parade ground entrance, there was a tidal surge of humanity. This kept the runners and soldiers of Shuntian Prefecture frantically busy; together with the war-wagon battalions of the capital garrison, they formed line after line of cordons to hold back the surging crowds, every man drenched in sweat from exhaustion.

Inside the parade ground, the troops of the Jingbian Army, the Xuanzhen Army, the Datong Army, and the Shenji Battalion soldiers set to go on campaign all stood in full armor, arrayed in solemn silence since early morning. They formed one endless square formation after another, stretching nearly beyond sight.

The soldiers of the Shenji Battalion indeed all looked tall, mighty, and imposing, with gleaming helmets and shining armor, banners and pennants standing like a forest — their appearance was beyond reproach.

Besides the troops going on campaign, countless capital notables and noblemen who had been granted permission to enter filled the enormous parade ground to bursting. Inside the grounds, it was a dense mass of heads and nothing but heads.

At the hour of dawn, a roar of "Long live His Majesty" rose from within the capital, the sound rolling along the route, a colossal wave of noise that seemed ready to blow the clouds from the sky. Amid grand ceremonial music, the Chongzhen Emperor, his path cleared by three thousand cavalry of the Divine Pivot Battalion, entered the parade ground in an endless procession with his full imperial retinue.

Drawn by twelve horses, before his great imperial chariot came a dense array of yellow banners, instruction-transmitting pennants, halt-proclaiming pennants, azure dragon canopies, white tiger canopies, black tortoise canopies, and an endless succession of single-dragon fans, double-dragon fans, embroidered floral fans, and more, all displaying the majesty, vastness, and solemnity of the emperor.

After the imperial retinue followed the dense throng of civil and military officials.

The Court of Imperial Sacrifices struck up the tune "The Blazing Essence Begins the Cycle," and the grand movement resounded: "The August Ming holds the ultimate, inheriting far from Yu and Tang. The rivers are clear and the seas calm, goods abound and the people are at peace. Might extends to the Yi and Liao barbarians, virtue blankets the Rong and Qiang..."

Amid the grand music, the Chongzhen Emperor rode his horse to review the troops. He was fully clad in martial attire, wearing a phoenix-winged helmet, a long coat of armor, arm guards, and a sharp sword at his waist; his armor and helmet were all lacquered in bright imperial yellow.

Wang Dou, Yang Guozhu, Wang Pu, and Fu Yingchong, also in full martial attire, rode their horses in a line behind him.

The five riders advanced on horseback, passing before one military formation after another.

From within the formations, a powerful voice suddenly roared: "Our Emperor, may you live ten thousand years!"

All the officers and soldiers shouted in unison: "Ten thousand years! Ten thousand years! Ten thousand years!"

The force of their voices seemed to carry for a thousand li.

A shrill voice cried out: "Our Emperor, ten thousand years!"

"Ten thousand years! Ten thousand years! Ten thousand years!"

Another voice shouted: "Our Emperor, ten thousand years!"

"Ten thousand years! Ten thousand years! Ten thousand years!"

A voice hoarse from strain yelled: "All soldiers, ten thousand victories!"

Countless men raised their weapons: "Ten thousand victories! Ten thousand victories! Ten thousand victories!"

The Chongzhen Emperor sat on his horse, watching the exultant army, his heart surging with emotion.

In his heart he silently prayed: "May the ancestors protect and bless us, grant a great victory in Liaodong in this campaign, and also protect and bless the descendants of later generations, that they may restore the Great Ming." (To be continued. 'This text provided by @小艾332335' If you enjoy this work, welcome to come to ◣the original publisher◥ to cast recommendation votes and monthly votes. Your support is my greatest motivation.)