Chapter 469: Capital Mound

After the first messenger arrived, a steady stream of couriers followed one after another, practically running into the Forbidden City on each other's heels.

Among them were not only riders dispatched by the Three Systems, but also fast couriers sent by Sun Chengzong and a certain Regional Commander surnamed Cao, who had galloped the whole way bearing revealing cloths to report the victory.

By this point, for the Donglin Party to jump out and question it again would be sheer brainlessness, because even the messengers sent by the civil official system themselves reported back that they had personally verified the Tartar heads.

So now the square before Huangji Hall was boiling over — every single person was excitedly discussing this unprecedented great victory. Even the censors responsible for maintaining decorum, breaking all precedent, were pulling messengers aside to question them. The solemn Palace Square, for the first time ever during morning court, had uncharacteristically turned into a vegetable market.

It was only natural for people to react this way.

During the previous capital encirclement campaign, everyone in Beijing had mentally prepared themselves for the Tartars to break in and massacre the city. Countless people had been jolted awake in terror in the middle of the night, and many had readied themselves to kill their own wives and daughters before hanging themselves — and among these, the officials now standing in the square were the most numerous.

So today, upon learning the good news, it was like a drowning man being rescued by a firefighter. The enormous psychological swing of this desperate counter-strike instantly released the Ming Officials from their long-suppressed, gloomy state of mind, and they threw off all restraint, no longer caring one bit about protocol.

The great square was like a boiling pot, and the circle before Huangji Hall was equally lively.

At this moment, the Chongzhen Emperor sat upright on the Dragon Throne with a faint smile, questioning a messenger at his feet.

Having resolved some doubts in his mind, the Emperor nodded with a face full of satisfaction. "Grant a reward."

The messenger then kowtowed, received his silver, and left. Then the next messenger was led forward, and the Emperor once again began to smile and ask the same questions from a few different angles.

Meanwhile, on the crimson stair platform one level below the Emperor, the old thespian Wen sat on a campstool, stroking his beard with one hand, watching the Emperor show off with a face full of kindly affection.

Earlier, upon hearing the news, the old thespian had immediately swayed as if about to collapse. But this time it was genuine: from last night until now, old Wen had appeared utterly unshaken, but in truth he had been under enormous pressure. Now that it was released, he could barely hold up.

Fortunately, the people around old Wen were all sharp. The moment they realized who the victor was, several hands reached out and steadied him.

Seeing this from the platform, the Emperor promptly seized the opportunity, raised the old thespian's seating position, and granted him a campstool, letting him sit in the spot closest to the Emperor.

The lively scene before the hall continued until the Emperor had finished questioning the very last messenger.

At that point, the Civil Official Bloc, led by Senior Grand Secretary Zhou Yanru, finally got itself organized and formally began the Three Kneelings and Nine Kowtows with over a thousand civil officials, congratulating His Majesty, congratulating the Great Ming, and celebrating this unprecedented, astonishing great victory.

The Chongzhen Emperor, who had already lost his composure many times today, felt his heart surge with emotion. Full of ambition and confidence, he accepted the ministers' congratulations and once again burst into laughter with complete disregard for decorum.

Only then did the assembled ministers realize that the Emperor, always so cold, hard, and gloomy, was still a young man after all!

That day's morning court, from the sovereign above to the ministers below, was filled with numerous breaches of protocol, setting a new record of sorts since the founding of the Ming. But in the face of such an astonishing victory, this trifle was only to be expected.

After morning court ended, before noon, the Ming people in Beijing who had learned the truth began setting off firecrackers. For a time, the whole city was filled with smoke and fireworks. Even the eunuchs and palace maids within the Imperial City set off fireworks, creating a festive atmosphere of universal celebration.

The young Emperor, whose mouth had not closed since that moment in the morning, broke precedent yet again. He uncharacteristically issued an order granting a collective reward to all the palace servants on this day that was no holiday at all.

The same scenes were playing out in every household across Beijing.

Aside from the wage-earning class, not to mention the princes, dukes, and Nobility — any household with servants gave out celebration money to some degree. It could truly be called a universal rejoicing.

Spreading alongside these scenes were several terms that shot to the top of Beijing's trending list — "Cao Chuan," "Zhangchao Deputy Regional Commander," "Green Jacket Battalion," "Jin Righteous Followers," "Box Carts hauling heads," "Amin," "Shuo Tong."

And in the two days that followed, the people of the Capital fell into a state of both blissful and anxious waiting.

Every time a scout with an urgent dispatch flag strapped to his back rode in from the east, information would ripple outward like water: the Green Jacket Army has reached Ji Garrison, the Green Jacket Army has reached Sanhe, the Green Jacket Army has reached Tongzhou, they're outside the city...

Santun Camp was three hundred li from Beijing; a fast horse could cover it in two days at most.

The scouts sent out from Beijing had met Cao Zong halfway. After that, because Cao Zong was traveling with box carts, his speed was somewhat slower.

It was not until the second day after morning court, on the evening of April 6th, that the main cavalry force led by the Transmigrators passed Tongzhou and requisitioned houses to settle in outside Guangqu Gate, east of Beijing.

Although some troops had already arrived outside the city before this, including Sun Chengzong and other commanders who entered the city early, none of these people caused much of a stir.

However, when Cao Zong's Green Jacket Army arrived at its station, Beijing instantly went wild. Crowds of people poured out of Guangqu Gate, all wanting to see what these legendary divine soldiers looked like.

After that, seeing the onlookers growing ever larger, the Transmigrators sensed trouble. They hurriedly brought out the box carts loaded with heads for the onlookers to view, while the troops maintained a vigilant guard. Aside from Xue Haiyuan, who had come to meet them, all idle persons were strictly forbidden from approaching.

This only drew even more people. Had a team of mounted officials not dispersed the natives, Guangqu Gate would likely have been jammed solid that day.

This team of officials was Cao Zong's theoretical superior, sent by the Ministry of War to deliver an imperial edict, and mixed in among them were several officials from the Ministry of Rites.

The one responsible for delivering the edict was a Director from the Bureau of Military Appointments in the Ministry of War.

An incense table was set up, and they knelt to receive the edict. The next moment, the Director began to recite the ancient text in a cadenced, rhythmic voice.

Zhang Dongdong had been moving in and out of Ming officialdom for the past two years and had already leveled his classical language skill to expert proficiency, so he understood the edict's meaning without much trouble.

The content of the imperial edict was simple: Chongzhen first lavishly praised Cao Zong with a few lines, acknowledging his hardships, and then bestowed wine and meat upon the Green Jacket Battalion.

At the end of the edict, the soldiers were told to rest well — early the next morning, the Prisoner-Presenting Ceremony would be held in Beijing!

After kowtowing to receive this edict, the Ministry of War Director instantly switched from the Emperor's spokesman back to an ordinary official. All smiles, he chatted up Cao Jiangjun to build rapport while directing his subordinates to unload the wine and meat from the wagons to feast the troops.

At this point, the Ministry of War officials' task was complete. Next, the Ministry of Rites officials took the stage.

The Ministry of Rites officials were even more enthusiastic: their higher-ups, thanks entirely to Cao Zong, were about to enter the cabinet. So all those who came were subordinates personally assigned by Wen Tiren, to ensure nothing went awry.

The Ministry of Rites had two matters to handle. One was to communicate the procedure for tomorrow's grand ceremony with Cao Zong. The second was training.

Training in what? The etiquette for an audience with the Emperor.

Just like the newly graduated Presented Scholars, Cao Zong was also entering the capital for his first audience with the Emperor. So the Ministry of Rites had thoughtfully sent people to conduct overnight training, ensuring that Cao Zong and the others who would be granted an audience all knew the proper rules and formalities.

And so, Cao Zong's first night in Beijing passed in a rush.

The moment the sun rose on April 7th, Guangqu Gate slowly opened. The Transmigrators' final major task in leading troops north this time — entering the capital to present prisoners — began its overture.

In truth, today's event was no longer "presenting prisoners" but "presenting heads."

A unit of cavalry dressed in Ming Army uniforms, escorting a shocking convoy of carts, entered the city first. The original box carts had their side panels removed, turning them into flatbed carts, and four thousand heads were laid out in neat rows upon the cart beds.

As the knights and the long string of flatbed carts advanced, the Beijing natives who had long since packed both sides of the main street burst into cheers, unable to hold back any longer.

The Ming people in their long robes shouted as they stared at the clearly visible, hideously ugly heads on the carts, gritting their teeth, their eyes revealing a mix of hatred and terror.

Not long ago, these very heads had been rampaging outside the city, turning the Capital region into a barren wasteland. Over these past months, nearly every household among the natives of Beijing wore mourning. From the princes, dukes, and Nobility above, down to the Commoners below, all had suffered grievous losses.

Now, seeing these bandits brought to justice, every native felt a surge of pure satisfaction in their hearts. The convoy had not advanced long before the heart-wrenching wails of women rose from the crowd. Had it not been for the many yamen runners and soldiers holding them back, the natives would have long since snatched every head from the street and taken them home to vent their fury.

The long convoy entered through Guangqu Gate in the east, proceeded all the way west, traversed half the Outer City, and then arrived at Beijing's Central Axis, the boundary point between the Outer City and Inner City: Zhengyang Gate.

This location was roughly near the Monument to the People's Heroes of later generations.

At this moment, both sides of the road, including the windows and roofs of the street-facing shops, were crammed with Ming people of all ages and both sexes. And starting from the Inner City, the clothing and complexions of the Ming people showed a marked improvement — truly fitting for the number one city that gathered the most wealth in all the Great Ming.

From here, the convoy made a right-angle turn north, heading toward the Imperial City.

Beyond Zhengyang Gate was a square plaza enclosed by stone balustrades. In the Ming dynasty, this was a bustling market street, commonly known as "Chessboard Street."

After passing through Chessboard Street, the convoy finally reached its terminus.

Here stands the Dismounting Stele — civil officials must leave their sedan chairs, military officers must dismount. And directly opposite, a towering city gate, the very symbol of national authority for both the Ming and Qing dynasties — the Great Ming Gate.

The Great Ming Gate was the main southern gate of the Beijing Imperial City. In the Qing Dynasty it was called the Great Qing Gate, during the Republic Era it was called the China Gate, and in later generations, it was eventually demolished and rebuilt into a memorial hall.

Inside the gate lies the Imperial Way. Aside from the dragon carriage of the Emperor or the phoenix chariots of the Empress and Empress Dowager, all others may only pass through on foot.

Seeing the convoy approach, the large number of soldiers already waiting here surged forward and began removing the heads from the carts.

These soldiers were agile and coordinated. On both sides of the Great Ming Gate's main entrance, they began using the heads of the Tartar Captives to pile up the pyramid-shaped, indispensable prop the Han People use to boast of their martial prowess — the Jingguan.

And just at this moment, far to the east at Guangqu Gate, another burst of astonished cheers erupted: the troops led by Zhangchao Deputy Regional Commander Cao Chuan had officially begun their entrance into the city.