Chapter 206: Entering the Pass

(Very sorry.)

(The last chapter was supposed to be free, but it was accidentally posted as paid. Paid chapters can't be changed to free or deleted, so little brother is making up five thousand today.)

(Thank you again, brothers, for your support.)

(Wishing you brothers a pleasant holiday again.)

After eliminating Hong Taiji and annexing Korea, the only real impact on Wang Yan was that his territory had become too vast, making administration inefficient and weakening control over local regions. Those causing trouble couldn't be eliminated immediately, which somewhat undermined social stability. Other matters, like a hundred thousand new population additions or similar, were essentially no problem.

During the warmer season, forced laborers and slaves were working hard to repair the road stretching from Shenyang all the way to Outer Khingan and Western Siberia, divided into three sections. The women and children assigned by the state may have initially struggled to adapt, but once they settled into a stable life, few wished to return to their former state. Of course, they still remembered the past—but mostly for the sweetness it contrasted with.

The biggest issue at this stage was that these women and children were all foreign barbarians; despite constant emphasis, Wang Yan's civilian male population—especially the long-term bachelors—still treated them poorly, frequently yelling at and beating them, despite repeated prohibitions. Now, the Security Bureau, while promoting legal awareness, is primarily occupied with beating men: anyone who fails to treat their state-assigned women and children well, committing domestic violence, gets a severe beating the first time, and direct three-year forced labor the second.

Land? Even with all of Northeast China including Outer Khingan and Western Siberia, his more than ten million people simply couldn't cultivate it all...

Of course, even with more land, Wang Yan would never implement private ownership. He understood the dangers: no matter how much land there was, it couldn't withstand human greed. Thus, all land within his territory belonged to Wang Mou himself. Farmers who reclaimed wasteland were exempt from taxes for three years; after that, they paid one-tenth as tax. If a farmer died, his land could be inherited by his children upon payment of a portion of the land tax—essentially becoming hereditary.

In the future, he would even need to consider issues like rice prices falling and harming farmers, or crop failures due to natural disasters—but these matters already had mature, proven solutions, so he could simply follow them. When rice prices fell, he would annually set a standard price, have the treasury purchase surplus, then supply it to the market, maintaining granaries for reserves and using grain for brewing. When disasters struck, he would directly subsidize farmers to ensure no peasant was forced to sell land or lose his home.

The land belonged to Wang Mou himself—it could be leased or contracted, but never bought or sold. Anyone who dared lay hands on land would have his entire family worked to death as forced laborers, then buried in the soil to fertilize this magnificent landscape.

While Wang Yan was absorbing the population, the areas inside the pass grew even more violent, as leaders of various peasant armies declared themselves kings.

Multiple peasant armies united and fought desperately against rising Ming commanders like Hong Chengchou, Lu Xiangsheng, and Sun Chuanting. Since the peasant armies had been fighting for over a decade and had absorbed many regular troops, their combat effectiveness was not weak. Meanwhile, the regular troops, suffering from lack of pay and food, low morale, and other factors, saw their combat effectiveness decline significantly—they were temporarily unable to match these roving peasant forces. Though not a total collapse, the regulars were struggling badly.

At the same time, Wang Yan was inciting them from behind; his operatives guided multiple rebel factions into Shaanxi, Shanxi, Henan, and Shandong, effectively surrounding Zhili. Despite the regular troops' fierce resistance, they could not halt the peasant armies' relentless advance toward Jingcheng.

Finally, in the tenth month of the fourteenth year of Chongzhen, all forces gathered around Jingcheng, ready to utterly end this empire that had lasted over two hundred years.

The battle for Jingcheng lasted half a month. The outcome, of course, was inevitable: Zhu Youjian killed his wife and daughters, then ordered his loyal attendants to escort the Imperial Prince southward. Long before this, many Ming imperial clan members and families of loyal ministers had already fled south.

Though the timeline had been accelerated by over two years, Zhu Youjian still followed history's path: covering his face with his hair, he hanged himself on Coal Hill. The old eunuch Wang Chengen, a loyal servant, followed him in death.

Likewise, as Jingcheng fell, many others chose to die with Zhu Youjian...

Unlike history, where Li Zicheng himself captured Jingcheng and restrained his troops from plundering for a time, now it was a coalition of "this king" and "that king" who stormed the city together. As a result, officials and civilians in Jingcheng were looted immediately—and this responsibility fell on Wang Yan...

Because multiple factions had jointly taken Jingcheng, and the Great Ming Emperor was dead, the Great Ming had naturally ended. The most pressing issue now was: who among them would be the supreme leader?

All were rebels who had risen from the ground; now, sharing victory, none were willing to yield. Thus, they began internal power struggles, open and covert, each refusing to submit to another. This upper-level conflict seeped downward: the brutal soldiers who had looted and burned also despised each other. Even the dumbest knew that only when their own leader rose would they benefit. So fights broke out frequently; deaths were commonplace.

Just as their conflicts accumulated like a bomb, waiting only for a spark to ignite, news arrived from the north, diverting their attention. Everyone knew Wang Yan was a formidable opponent, commanding hundreds of thousands of troops. What happened later could wait—right now, they must unite to crush Wang Yan, lest all their hard work end with him reaping the harvest.

Wang Yan received word of Zhu Youjian's suicide on Coal Hill in late October. For this day, he had waited fifteen years... Though his mind had long been unmoved by external events, and though he had always known this day would come, he was truly shaken. The thought of entering the Central Plains, becoming the sole sovereign, dominating the Four Seas—Wang Yan was profoundly stirred...

Thus, the moment he received the news, Wang Yan issued a series of military and administrative orders. He then instructed his women to pack and prepare for relocation, and immediately set out with a thousand personal guards, galloping to Qiantun.

After unifying the northern lands beyond the pass, Wang Yan gradually concentrated his troops along the Great Wall at border regions. Beyond the Wall lay mostly grasslands, or else deserts. Whether grassland or desert, all bore Wang's name. His westernmost reach had already extended into the Western Regions—today's Xinjiang Autonomous Region.

He deployed his forces in five columns: each column of frontline troops numbered thirty thousand, crossing the Great Wall to reach Shanxi, the Hetao Plain, Ningxia Garrison, etc. Combined with his own direct command of the fifty-thousand-strong force stationed at Qiantun, he fielded a total of two hundred thousand frontline troops, advancing southward to seize control of the four northern provinces immediately.

He did not mobilize the navy, because he had already recalled part of his frontline troops. Deploying warships for coastal landings might have been faster, but the damage to his overseas interests would have been considerable—too costly to be worthwhile. On land, he was invincible; he could advance south gradually.

He received the news on October 22; on that same day, Wang Yan arrived at Qiantun.

On the 23rd, the rested troops marched directly to Shanhai Pass and entered the pass without resistance, reaching Yongping Prefecture, governed by Sun Chengzong.

In Shanhai Pass Garrison—later known as Qin Huangdao City—Sun Chengzong was mourning the fall of the Great Ming when Wang Yan walked in. Sun showed no surprise, even glared at Wang Yan.

Wang Yan said: "Old Sun, what's that look for? I admit, the fall of the Great Ming is partly my doing. But even without me, would the Great Ming not have fallen? Moreover, I take this realm—it's better than letting barbarians rule it, isn't it?"

Sun Chengzong knew the Great Ming was beyond saving, but its actual end still pained him: "Congratulations. All your ten years of effort have finally borne fruit."

Wang Yan smiled: "What's your plan? Will you serve with me for a few more years, or just retire?"

"I'll pass..." Sun Chengzong shook his head and sighed. "This world belongs to the young. My old bones are nearly in the grave. I'll just rest well, try to live a few more years, and watch how this number-one rebel turns out."

Wang Yan had no patience for this dying old man: "So, will you come with me to Jingcheng, or stay here?"

"The late Emperor entrusted me to guard this place specifically to prevent your southern advance. Now you've silently appeared in my study—what face do I have to enter Jingcheng?"

"Fine, do as you wish. If you don't go to Jingcheng, we probably won't meet again... Live well. Watch how this brute, this rebel, governs the world."

Saying this, Wang Yan turned and waved without looking back: "I'm leaving..."

He had taken time to check on Sun Chengzong's condition—his fifty-thousand-strong frontline troops hadn't paused at all. After suppressing unruly elements in Yongping Prefecture, they marched straight toward the city.

Sun Chengzong sat motionless in his chair, staring at the bright sky outside, silent for a long time...

After Wang Yan passed through Yongping Prefecture, other forces along the Great Wall also received word and crossed south. Those already corrupted surrendered easily. Those who held firm and refused passage were bombarded directly. By now, the Great Ming was gone—anyone still resisting stubbornly was clearly a dangerous separatist; eliminate them immediately.

Wang Yan could only apologize for the ordinary people who died in this process. War never spares lives—especially now, when vying for the Central Plains and claiming the throne. All who stood in the way must die.

Of course, Wang Yan wasn't that bloodthirsty. Aside from the first wave of executions meant to establish authority, the rest were disarmed and gathered for detention, to be used later as forced labor. After leaving a thousand or so troops to maintain order in each city, the main force continued along its planned route.

By the time the news reached the peasant armies in Jingcheng—who had barely enjoyed a few days of peace and were still bickering among themselves—Wang Yan's forces were already less than five hundred li from the capital.

With a great enemy at the door, internal disputes were set aside: crushing Wang Yan came first.

Thus, over two hundred thousand peasant army troops, rather than defending the city, moved to Tongzhou, fifty li outside the capital, to engage Wang Yan's fifty-thousand-strong frontline force in open battle...

On November 3, the campaign proceeded far more smoothly than Wang Yan had expected. He had thought it would take at least half a month—but in reality, including battles, capturing cities, rest, and marching, it took only eleven days to reach Tongzhou.

Along the way, cities encountered offered little resistance; most surrendered outright. Wang Yan could guarantee that although he had infiltrated the region, he had not bribed any civil or military officials—they surrendered on their own.

In fact, this was understandable. Throughout the entire pass region, from south to north, east to west, the only truly formidable troops were those under Sun Chengzong in Yongping. Though previously deployed to suppress peasant armies, many remained stationed there specifically to guard against Wang Yan's southern advance. Now that Wang Yan had arrived at their gates, the implication was clear: either Sun Chengzong had died, or he had surrendered. Resistance by others was pointless.

Moreover, a state cannot be without a ruler. Compared to the peasant armies, Wang Yan's ascension seemed a better option. Anyone with sense knew the level of development in Wang Yan's territory—he openly allowed inspection. So military officers knew the treatment and conditions of his officers and soldiers; civil officials knew Wang Yan desperately needed administrators.

Although the teachings promoted in Wang Yan's territory, and the education of girls, showed some disrespect for the sages and rituals, it didn't matter. Later, they would teach this Wang man how to educate and govern—he would learn. The realm would belong to Wang, but ultimately, it would belong to us...

Arriving at Tongzhou and seeing the vast, disciplined enemy force before him, Wang Yan genuinely wanted to ask them: how have you been so bold all along?

To prevent them from retaliating by burning the Forbidden City or causing destruction, Wang Yan sent a letter warning them: do not set fire to the Forbidden City—any such act would result in flaying and skinning...

Then came a one-sided battle—essentially a massacre. A few volleys of artillery, a few volleys of musketry at close range, ten thousand cavalry charging back and forth—battle ended.

The Forbidden City was indeed set on fire—perhaps Wang Yan's warning had the opposite effect: they hadn't thought of it until he mentioned it, then realized they couldn't leave it for Wang Yan...

In truth, even without his warning, these men would have burned it anyway. He mentioned it only to leave room for a possible exception. When he sent the letter, he already anticipated this rebellious psychology—it was crude, but not a problem: rebuild it later. He had plenty of money...

Of course, Wang Yan kept his word. Once he identified which faction was responsible, he sent ten thousand cavalry to capture only that group's leaders and high-ranking officers, bringing them back to the Forbidden City's Huangji Gate, where they were flayed alive for three days and two nights...

As for the peasant army troops, Wang Yan left ten thousand to maintain order in Jingcheng, while the remaining forty thousand split into multiple columns, chasing the peasant forces into chaos.

Wang Yan's order was to drive them south of the Huaihe River. Though his military strength could have settled everything in one battle, he couldn't govern them effectively—capturing them would be useless. Even the region north of the Huaihe would take considerable time to fully absorb.

Moreover, southern gentry and landlords were so powerful that Wang Yan absolutely needed the peasant armies to ravage them first. As for ordinary civilians who died in the chaos—Wang Yan could not control that. They had to endure this ordeal anyway. If he had done it himself, even more might have died. After all, these illiterate peasants were easiest to incite; if manipulated by schemers, he would kill more, and more brutally.

Although Wang Yan wouldn't deal with those peasant rebels in the short term, in the end they couldn't escape. The worst they could do was flee to places like Champa in the south—today's East Asian Five—where the coastal regions were all Wang Yan's… So in the end, all their wealth, except what they'd eaten, they couldn't take with them, and those hundreds of thousands would be forced into hard labor until death to atone for their crimes.

Rebelling because you can't survive isn't wrong—it's a death either way. But they held the lives of ordinary civilians in their hands, and to wreak havoc on the common people was unjust. Wang Yan was highly double-standard: he could kill, he had excuses, and he never harmed civilians; others killing was the problem—ultimately, his fist was bigger, and he called the shots…

It took Wang Yan half a year to initially secure the entire region north of the Huaihe and achieve stability across most areas. Restoring production and construction would take much longer.

After suppressing the noisy calls from his subordinates to proclaim himself emperor, Wang Yan turned to consolidating his territory.

For governing officials who surrendered and cooperated, just as he had done in Liaodong, Wang Yan gladly let them retain their original posts. To settle accounts would have to wait until his little ones grew up. Only twelve years had passed; his first generation of children hadn't even come of age yet—he still had to wait.

Speaking of this, one must mention the Duke of Yansheng. There were indeed peasant rebels who marched into Shandong, yet even then, Wang Yan's men wanted to massacre the Kong family—until Liu Siming personally stopped them. Just how powerful was that Kong family?

And unlike when Hong Taiji entered the pass, now that Wang Yan had risen to power, the Kong family's posture was utterly brazen—they truly must've grown tired of life…

For aiding disaster victims, Wang Yan's preparations were thoroughly adequate. Not to mention anything else, the food for survival was shipped in wagon after wagon, forming long lines into the pass. He had stockpiled enough grain to feed thirty million people three full meals a day, every day, for a full year. Though no official census existed, the population had always been around forty to sixty million. For the northern regions, even if people only ate two thin meals a day, this stockpile was more than enough to sustain them for a year.

With that year's time, Wang Yan's grain production in the north, the grain from his lands beyond the pass, the grain from the occupied southern territories, plus the grain he'd seized during his campaign against the Mughal Empire—all of it added up. After accounting for reserves meant for eventual southern unification, he might even end up brewing alcohol and feeding pigs.

As for other things—cement, bricks, tiles, steel, gold, silver, cloth, clothing, and so on—he had stockpiled mountains of them.

At the same time, Wang Yan once again organized manpower to repair cities, the Forbidden City, and roads. This time, he intended to build a road from Jingcheng all the way to Shanhai Pass, connecting it with the main highway at Qiantun. All other major highways linking the provinces were to be built as dual-lane, eight-lane roads.

As for land surveys, they were inevitable—but because the existing civil officials still held power, colluding with local gentry, and because the war had just ended and accounts were a mess, progress was slow. A few batches of corrupt officials could be arrested, demoted to hard labor, and worked to death, and that would suffice.

For a time, every corner south of the Huaihe became a construction site, everywhere alive with work.

Wang Yan also didn't forget the merchants who had made him rich. Due to geography, northern merchants did more business with him than others.

And when speaking of northern merchants, one must mention the Eight Jin Merchant Families that Wang Yan had long coveted.

Wang Yan didn't care who they were or what power they held—he simply sent troops to confiscate all eight families. Men and near-adults were demoted to hard labor; women were sent with their children to Liaodong as state-assigned spouses; troublemakers were sent straight to the front to serve the army.

Some high-ranking civil officials, feeling themselves powerful, still tried to plead for mercy—Wang Yan paid them no mind and confiscated their homes. This had nothing to do with moral orthodoxy or the foundations of governance—it was purely a case of corruption.

Though many civil officials grumbled, those who had just joined Wang Yan's side hadn't yet understood the situation, and besides, Wang Yan's troops were strong and ruthless—they truly killed. So after a few minor disturbances, a few more deaths, and a few more homes seized, it was all over.

But the struggle with civil officials was drawing near, for he was certain to implement education—and if he followed the pattern of the lands beyond the pass, the outcome could be foreseen: rivers of blood…