Chapter 467: Telling a Story

Ciqing Palace lay in the eastern part of the Forbidden City, north of East Prosperity Gate, right next door to the Imperial Horse Agency.

This place was originally called Qingning Palace, the crown prince's residence. In later ages, Ciqing Palace has already vanished. During the Qing dynasty, Xiefang Hall was built on the original site, and later it was expanded into the Southern Three Residences. Those princes that brainless fangirls in Qing court dramas adore most — basically all of them grew up in the Southern Three Residences.

In fact, as early as the final years of the Tianqi reign, since the Tianqi Emperor had no sons, Ciqing Palace had already become Empress Zhang's bedchamber. By the Chongzhen reign, until the crown prince took a consort, Empress Zhang still lived here.

Empress Zhang was named Zhang Yan, the Tianqi Emperor's principal empress.

Because back when the Tianqi Emperor lay critically ill, Empress Zhang alone advocated at his sickbed that Zhu Youjian, then still the Prince of Xin, should succeed to the throne, Chongzhen, after taking power, held this widowed sister-in-law in the highest esteem.

Chongzhen not only conferred upon Zhang Yan the honorific title "Empress Yi'an," but throughout his entire reign, Empress Zhang received the emperor's utmost respect and ceremonial courtesy of the highest specification.

Why, since ancient times, have people fought tooth and nail to claim the great merit of supporting a dragon's ascent? This gives a glimpse of the reason.

Today the sunlight was beautiful, neither cool nor hot, and it happened to be the Clear Brightness Festival — a good day for an outing to relax the mind. Yet an activity like strolling arm in arm and playing around in the Imperial Garden was, for certain people, not so appropriate... a sister-in-law and a brother-in-law, for instance.

So everyone simply had to sit down, drink a couple of cups of beer, eat some skewers, and chat about idle matters — on the white marble moon terrace before the gates of Ciqing Palace, an open-air banquet was just being held.

To call it a banquet was really just some melons, fruits, and pastries laid out on tea tables — no beer and no lobster either — a rather casual, medieval-era cold buffet.

The cold buffet had only one host and one guest each; all the rest around them — those palace maids, female officials, eunuchs, and guards — were all hired hands, and they had to stand.

Wearing a red-sleeved robe, with an embroidered cape and a red silk vest, a pearl-and-emerald phoenix crown upon her head, sitting in the host's seat behind the tea table was, naturally, the owner of Ciqing Palace — "gracefully tall and well-proportioned, face like Guanyin, eyes like autumn waves, lips like red cherries, nose like a suspended gall-bladder, teeth white and fine" — historically ranked among China's Five Great Beauties among empresses: Empress Zhang, Zhang Yan.

And to Empress Dowager Zhang's left, wearing a gold-thread Golden-Winged Hat, dressed in a Black Brocade Dragon Robe, his face thin and lean, sporting two wisps of a mustache, the young man was none other than the owner of the vast Ming Empire: the Chongzhen Emperor, Zhu Youjian.

At this moment, Chongzhen was smiling as he watched two child performers putting on an acrobatics show below the moon terrace. The children's skill was superb — now doing handstands, now folding their bodies, and finally ending the performance with a breathtaking single-foot-supported tumbling move, winning full applause from the crowd.

"Mm, the little ones performed well — they must have suffered plenty under their master. See to a reward."

Empress Zhang was twenty-four this year, just the finest age for a woman. But this was the 17th century, with its rampant ritual codes; having been a widow for several years, Zhang Yan spoke in an old-fashioned, world-weary manner, already beginning to demand of herself the mindset of an elder everywhere she went.

After distributing the rewards, the young sister-in-law turned her head to glance at the even younger brother-in-law, and discovered that the other party, while seemingly smiling and nodding repeatedly, was somewhat distracted, a faint trace of melancholy still lingering between his brows.

With a soft sigh, Empress Zhang reached out and raised the cup of Osmanthus Dew on the table, saying, "Emperor, do have some tea."

"Oh!" Snapping back to attention, Chongzhen hurriedly picked up the Rose Drink before him and took two sips.

"Now that the Tartar Captives have withdrawn their troops, and the Emperor is growing daily more adept at handling court affairs, we've managed to pull through the hardest stretch. Once the Emperor is a few years older, things will eventually get better."

After setting down the crystal-clear, transparent glass highball cup in her hand, Empress Zhang said slowly, "Emperor, you must not dwell on state affairs at every moment, lest you harm your spirit. You must balance tension with relaxation."

"We understand. Thank you, Imperial Sister-in-law, for the reminder."

Hearing this, the young emperor's brow smoothed out a little, and he nodded in assent.

Seeing the emperor and empress chatting so pleasantly, the old eunuch attending nearby tactfully clapped his hands, and then the next crew of performers coming out to display their art arrived below the moon terrace, ready to perform a section of Cuju play for the nobles.

Just at that moment, the emperor sitting on the moon terrace furrowed his brows again — behind the performers, at the palace gate, a figure was running over from afar.

Chongzhen's eyesight was good, so before long, he made out the newcomer's outfit: a suit of bright red Fighting Bull Attire. In that instant, the emperor's expression instantly turned cold and hard — the person most likely to be running wild through the palace in the colors of a high-ranking eunuch was someone from the Directorate of Ceremonial, and it surely foretold that a major incident had occurred.

With a sudden motion, Chongzhen rose from his chair. He had already made out the face of the newcomer: Fang Zhenghua, Director of the Directorate of Ceremonial.

The young emperor, who had never received a single piece of good news since his enthronement, had long since made a habit of blocking out the possibility of anything good happening, so when he saw the panting newcomer, his mind had already rehearsed several kinds of emergencies: Had the Tartar Captives turned their troops around again? Had chaos broken out again in the direction of the Ji Garrison? Or was there another alert from the Nine Border Garrisons?

In this moment, the emperor's face was ashen; the slightly relaxed attitude from just moments before had long been flung beyond the highest heavens. And Empress Zhang, tactfully, swung her hand, signaling the eunuch to dismiss the performers.

Accompanying this total chill in the atmosphere was Fang Zhenghua, drawing closer and closer.

Very soon, when Fang Zhenghua reached the foot of the moon terrace, a broken, intermittent shout came through: "Your Majesty, great joy, great joy! A great victory at the front, a great victory!"

"Huh?" The young emperor, who had been standing with his hands behind his back and a dark expression, suddenly froze. Then, his face full of astonishment, he turned his head to glance at his imperial sister-in-law, as if seeking to confirm his own judgment: Did We mishear?

Empress Zhang was equally dumbfounded; her lovely face was all bewilderment, seemingly even carrying a trace of fear, and she exchanged a helpless look with her brother-in-law.

Fortunately, the answer was soon revealed. Fang Zhenghua dashed up the steps in one breath, then dropped to his knees with a "thud" before the emperor, and while gasping for air, said, "Reporting... reporting to Your Majesty, the... the front... a great, a great victory! Regional Commander Cao, Cao, Cao Chuan, he... in battle, beheaded... beheaded Amin, captured four... four thousand... enemy heads..."

With a loud clatter, the emperor swayed his head and staggered back a step, knocking the chair to the ground. The next moment, his face cold and hard, the emperor strode forward one step, pointed at Fang Zhenghua, and cursed fiercely, "You fool, speak clearly! Has Amin beheaded some other Regional Commander?!"

"Your Majesty, Amin has been beheaded! It was our Great Ming's Regional Commander who beheaded Amin!"

"Ah!"

The emperor's mouth hung wide open as he froze for a moment. After sorting out his train of thought, he bent forward, pointed at Fang Zhenghua, and asked in a deep voice, "Could it be that someone else's battle report has come to deceive Us?"

Seeing the emperor's finger, pointing at the tip of his nose, trembling ever so slightly, Fang Zhenghua understood: His Majesty appeared calm, but inside, his heart was already boiling over. "There are heads, Your Majesty! Heads are on the way! Amin's, and four thousand sturdy Tartar heads — all on the way!"

His face full of astonishment, utterly unable to believe this answer, the young emperor slowly straightened up again, swept his gaze over everyone around him, and finally exchanged another look with his sister-in-law.

After confirming he had not suffered an auditory hallucination, the emperor's face instantly flushed crimson. In his agitation, he coughed a few times, then asked, "Who delivered this news?"

"Reporting to Your Majesty, it was Minister Zongbo."

"I could fuck your mother!"... Had Chongzhen not been so young, this mental whiplash would already have given him a cerebral hemorrhage. "Wen Tiren is the Minister of Rites — where would a battle report come from?!"

"Reporting to Your Majesty, this battle report was delivered into the city by the Wen household's staff!"

The young emperor, in his urgency, coughed a few more times, then realized he could not continue communicating with Fang Zhenghua like this. "Where is Wen Tiren?"

"Just outside Ciqing Palace, waiting to bring Your Majesty the happy tidings!"

"Then summon him at once!"

"Aye!"

The next moment, a nimble-footed eunuch sprinted toward the palace gate like a madman.

Thus, under the watchful eyes of the crowd and the emperor's fiery glare, Wen Tiren, at a pace slightly quicker than usual, unhurriedly and composedly arrived before the emperor.

"Your humble minister pays his respects..."

"Spare the formalities, spare the formalities! Someone, grant Minister Wen a seat!"

The exceedingly impatient emperor cut off old Wen's courtesies at the first moment.

Seeing that the emperor's appetite had been thoroughly whetted, old Wen no longer kept him in suspense, and proceeded to recount the entire story from beginning to end.

Old Wen's story was this: Previously, due to old ties with Xiong Wencan, a certain Regional Commander surnamed Cao, who had come this time for the King's Rescue, had recently sent someone from Tianjin to bring old Wen some Fujian local products.

At the same time, Regional Commander Cao, in his letter to old Wen, had also complained about his circumstances. This included the Southern Soldiers' inability to adapt to the climate, which had him stuck in Jinwei, as well as the chaotic war situation, leaving him feeling he had nowhere to put his skills to use, and so on.

At that point, Minister Wen, warm-hearted and well-versed in military strategy, in his reply letter, pointed out a clear path for Regional Commander Cao: Do not come to the Ji Garrison to join the main battle; General Cao might instead dispatch strange troops to directly attack the Yongping Three Cities from the south, cutting off the enemy's rear — it might just yield miraculous results.

And so matters proceeded step by step: After seeing the letter brought by the Wen Mansion's messenger, Regional Commander Cao acted accordingly. Relying on his subordinates' sharp firearms and a surprise attack, he caught the Tartars in the Yongping Three Cities completely off guard — the foolish Tartars had never imagined that divine troops descending from the sky would come raiding from the south.

After defeating the Tartars in the Yongping Three Cities one by one, Regional Commander Cao then led his morale-surging, valiant troops straight to Santun Camp. When the Tartars on the city walls saw Amin's head, their morale instantly evaporated, and they began fleeing the city in a rout.

Then, after occupying Santun Camp, Regional Commander Cao very soon also met the massive force fleeing from Zunhua.

And so, under the brilliant strategic guidance of the military expert Minister Wen, Regional Commander Cao adopted a divide-and-conquer strategy and achieved an unprecedented great victory in one stroke, leaving behind a total of four thousand Tartar heads, including Amin's.

After hearing Wen Tiren's account, Chongzhen was too agitated to contain himself and pressed repeatedly, "My beloved minister, is there proof of what you speak?"

"There is, there is!"

Wen Tiren drew a letter from his bosom.

The handwriting of this letter was neat and orderly, clearly written by an adviser accustomed to handling official documents.

This was normal; since many military officers in ancient times could not write letters well, the officer would dictate while the adviser wrote on his behalf, and finally a seal and signature would be affixed — and that was that.

This letter was written in Regional Commander Cao's voice. Its content was nothing more than thanking Minister Wen for showing him the clear path, enabling him to reap a great number of Tartar heads. Thus, at the first moment after the battle ended, he wrote this letter atop the walls of Santun Camp to report the good news to Minister Wen.

The letter also stated: even as he was writing, Sun Chengzong's great army had already joined forces under the walls of Santunying Fortress. Therefore, the victory dispatches sent separately by the frontline commanders would soon reach Beijing. Regional Commander Cao would also, before long, bring the four thousand heads to Beijing to offer congratulations to His Majesty.

After reading this letter through with trembling hands, Chongzhen once again rose from his chair and, unable to wait a moment longer, loudly declared, "Someone, summon Luo Yangxing, Zhou Yanru, and Wang Zhixin to see me at once!"