Chapter 201: Waging Political War Through Battle, Cleansing the Turbid and Exalting the Pure

What Li Zicheng, Zhang Zicheng, Wang Zicheng — it makes no difference.

If Gao Shiming didn't compile and brief him on current affairs once a week, Zhu Youjian would have almost forgotten the matter entirely.

To him, even dispatching the Messenger Office to the Nine Frontiers to distribute rewards and gather intelligence already felt like something that happened last year.

Since his enthronement, he has gone full throttle, exploiting every gap in people's hearts and interests to throw his weight around.

Personnel, military, security, finance and taxation —

affair after affair surged like tidal waves, one piling atop the next, gradually turning the tide of the times.

Among all these matters, which one was not more important than that other "Yongchang Emperor"?

And ever since the day before yesterday, when Ma Shilong's victory telegram reporting a "great triumph" reached the capital, even these important affairs have been somewhat pushed to the back burner.

Fast as the telegraph may be, the content it carries is ultimately limited — a single line can transmit at most fifteen hundred characters per day, enough only to convey the most essential military intelligence and imperial edicts.

So content-heavy materials like the Ming Times, traditional official documents, tax and grain ledgers, and frontline military dispatches still had to rely on the traditional courier routes.

And this military dispatch that had just arrived in Zhu Youjian's hands was exactly such a case.

The dispatch, sent by 600-li express, recorded every detail of the Battle of Qingcheng in exhaustive depth:

the course of engagement during the battle, the post-battle tallies of casualties, captives, and spoils, the dates when the Tumed and Kharchin tribes sent envoys to offer tribute, and so on.

This was, without any doubt, an epic triumph.

Nearly every strategic objective had been perfectly achieved.

Only, regarding the fifty thousand taels of reward silver promised beforehand, Ma Shilong's reply actually stated that in the end only thirty-five thousand taels had been paid out.

— Well then, the funds had actually turned out to be more than enough.

Zhu Youjian shook his head with a smile, read through the dispatch's contents carefully once more, and slowly turned over the thoughts that had been brewing in his mind for days.

The soldiers' war is already over, but the political and diplomatic war has only just begun.

Every ounce of victory must be squeezed for a hundredfold in value — let alone this indisputably epic triumph?

Both at home and abroad, there is far too much capital to be made from it.

All manner of calculations churned in Zhu Youjian's mind like boiling water.

A moment later, his deliberations finally complete, he spoke decisively: "Companion Gao, notify them — half a shichen from now, all relevant personnel are to assemble at Wuying Hall for a conference!"

Half a shichen later.

Inside Wuying Hall, the buzz of voices filled the air.

"What did I tell you? This old man said from the start, this battle would be a sure victory!"

"Indeed! A month of preparation, a thousand-li stealth march, then a sudden strike — smashing through as easily as snapping dry weeds and rotten wood! This is the true way of military science: still as a mountain, then moving like a thunderbolt!"

"I hear that when victory was won, the sky had barely begun to lighten — truly a divine host descending from the heavens!"

The assembled ministers took their seats one after another, clustering in twos and threes across the rows, their discussions rising to a clamorous din, almost entirely composed of effusive praise for the campaign.

In particular, Huang Liji, Li Guopu, Huo Weihua, and the others who had been deeply involved in this battle and were tightly bound to the new policies — every one of them was glowing with delight, utterly unable to contain their joy.

On one hand, this battle had been fought far too brilliantly, suiting the tastes of these civil officials far too perfectly.

No protracted, grinding stalemate, no ruinously expensive logistics — just a single precise, swift, and dazzling raid, and such astonishing results had been achieved.

This fit their imaginings of "the highest art of war lies in stratagem" and "if one does not fight, then fine; if one fights, a single battle settles the cosmos" to absolute perfection. And on the other hand, it was barely more than a month ago that everyone had been right here in this very hall, deciding upon the grand strategy to send troops into the southern desert.

Now that the great deed was accomplished, how could this ledger of merits possibly lack their own contribution of "devising stratagems from the command tent"?

As for their earlier hesitation, conservatism, buck-passing, and the utter disgrace of being roundly cursed out by the Emperor and strong-armed into passing the resolution — all of that had long since been selectively tossed by them beyond the ninth heaven and the outermost clouds.

Humans are, by nature, creatures who beautify their own memories.

This is also why the white moonlight of one's first love is best never seen again in this lifetime.

The ministers had not been debating long when, from beyond the hall, came the eunuch's distinctive long, drawn-out announcement: "His Majesty arrives —!"

The hall instantly fell silent; all the ministers hurriedly adjusted their robes and headdresses, bowing and standing in solemn reverence.

"Your subjects pay homage to Your Majesty. Long live His Majesty, ten thousand years, ten thousand times ten thousand years!"

The assembled ministers knelt as one, their acclamation of "ten thousand years" rising like a mountain cry.

"Rise."

"We thank Your Majesty."

The ministers gave thanks and rose, each returning to their seat.

Yet, in the very instant of rising, Li Guopu and Huang Liji at the front of the ranks inadvertently exchanged a glance, and each saw a flicker of surprise in the other's eyes.

Something was off.

This conference had been called on short notice, convened at the fourth ke of the shen hour, already nearing dusk.

By the new sovereign's habits since his enthronement, he only wore his riding and shooting field dress when reviewing the Valiant Guard Camp in the morning or when reading memorials.

For summoning ministers in the afternoon or holding meetings, he ought to have changed into the slightly looser and more comfortable ordinary casual robes.

But today, His Majesty was still clad in a full set of close-fitting martial attire.

This unusual choice of dress meant either that His Majesty had just returned from the drill ground and had not even had time to change —

or — he had done so deliberately!

A few ministers of sharper perception had also noticed this, but the atmosphere in the hall was solemn, and no one spoke up to point it out.

Zhu Youjian swept the room with a sharp gaze, offered not a single word of preamble, picked up a small wooden gavel, and gave a light tap.

For short meetings it's fine, but in a long meeting, rapping the table with your fingers really will make them swollen.

After the last great assembly, Zhu Youjian had learned his lesson the hard way and specially prepared this imperial-use small wooden gavel, entrusting it to the attending eunuch to carry on his person.

"Begin," Zhu Youjian said flatly. Gao Shiming caught his meaning, rose from the desk, cupped his hands, and announced: "The subject of this conference is 'The Commencement and Deployment of All Related Work Following the Battle of Qingcheng.'"

He paused, then turned to Huo Weihua, the Left Vice Minister of the Ministry of War.

"Next, the Left Vice Minister of the Ministry of War, Huo Weihua, will first brief us on the latest battle situation summary as of this moment."

The assembled ministers sat composed and at ease, their expressions perfectly natural, showing not the slightest surprise at this procedure.

After more than a month of high-intensity "mountains of paper and seas of meetings," this open-the-door-and-get-straight-to-the-point meeting style had been accepted and grown habitual for everyone.

Even the Depot and Guard men like Gao Shiming, Tian Ergeng, and Wang Tigan sat among them in the same ranks, and the crowd had long since ceased to find it strange.

At the very beginning, there had indeed been one or two oblivious civil officials who jumped out, quoting classics and precedents, vehemently denouncing "Depot and Guard misrule," "the ancestral system cannot be violated," "the collapse of sovereign-minister propriety," and so on.

And His Majesty's reply was truly heartwarming: "What my minister has said greatly comforts us. In that case, to set an example, from now on you may stand through the meetings.

"Thus you may also be counted as a white crow rectifying the rites." After standing only twice, no one spouted nonsense anymore.

Too cutting — this punishment was even more humiliating than a court beating.

Take a beating from the court rods and you can still win a fine name as an "upright remonstrating loyal minister" — but what was this penalty-standing supposed to be? The ultimate in mortification.

Ever since that grand court assembly in the tenth month, this young sovereign had made no effort to hide his two faces.

Toward those willing to keep step with him and push reform forward, even if they argued until red in the face, he was as mild as a spring breeze — you could call it letting spittle dry on his face.

Toward those who could truly point out faults, he was overjoyed, endlessly piling on effusive praise — Zhang Liang, Xiao He, and the like — heaping it on them without restraint.

Yet after heaping it on for so long, the Emperor ultimately could not quite keep them straight.

As things stood now, Huang Liji was simultaneously Zhang Liang, Xiao He, and Jiang Ziya, while Li Guopu was Wei Zheng and Fang Xuanling —

and the rest — Guan Zhong, Di Renjie, Fan Zhongyan, and others — appeared in an endless stream.

The assembled grand ministers studied this for a long time and finally reached the rueful conclusion that there was probably no pattern to it; His Majesty likely just assigned whoever came to mind on the spur of the moment.

But toward those who only knew empty talk and stirred up trouble for no reason, this new ruler was simply merciless in his cutting wit — the sharpness of his words and the humiliating force of his methods truly made men shrink back in dread.

And so, over time, the ministers all figured out the lay of the land.

That shabby excuse of "the ancestral system" was raised by fewer and fewer people.

Huo Weihua rose, cupped his hands, and without even glancing at his notes, began directly: "This campaign formally commenced on the third day of the ninth month. First, Supreme Commander Sun and Regional Commander Ma jointly selected crack troops from the Nine Border Garrisons and concentrated them at Tongzhou."

"From the tenth day of the ninth month onward, the Ministry of Revenue, the Ministry of Works, and the various other bureaus and offices cooperated fully, throwing all their weight behind allocating and issuing the required armor, padded winter coats, warhorses, fodder, beans, and all other military supplies."

"On the twentieth day of the ninth month, the transferred troops from the various garrisons around the capital region arrived in succession and were fully equipped; after initial consolidation and combined drill, Regional Commander Ma Shilong immediately set out for Datong Garrison to await orders."

"On the sixth day of the tenth month, Regional Commander Ma Shilong finalized the 'Qingcheng Left-Flank' campaign plan; the entire army shifted to Datong Left Guard and lay concealed, awaiting the moment."

"On the seventh day of the tenth month, Governor Zhang Fengyi of Datong and Datong Regional Commander Qu Jiazhen began full cooperation, allocating large horses,

heavy armor, and detaching wagon battalions to join the drills."

"On the tenth day of the tenth month, the Chahar tribe and the Mongol Right Wing coalition fought at Jining Lake; after half a day of bitter combat, the Right Wing coalition was routed."

"On the twelfth day of the tenth month, after one day of rest and reorganization, the Chahar tribe advanced to the walls of Qingcheng."

At this point, Huo Weihua paused slightly, then continued: "On that day, Regional Commander Ma Shilong issued the order at the yin hour: the entire army was to dig field kitchens and prepare a meal. Once the three armies had eaten their fill, by the faint light of the stars and moon, they advanced along the western mountain road."

"At the second mark of the mao hour, the entire army emerged from the mountain road, formed ranks, and pushed forward toward the Black River line."

"At the fourth mark of the mao hour, enemy scout riders spotted the traces of our great army and sent an envoy forward to demand an explanation."

"Regional Commander Ma Shilong, seeing the enemy still wavering between fighting and fleeing and their morale unsettled, immediately gave the order: the left wing under You Shiwei and the right wing under Cao Wenzhao, each leading three hundred iron cavalry, all mounted on double-armored large horses, were to charge the enemy lines first!"

"The moment the left and right wings made contact, he then ordered the central army's four commanders — Tong Weikun, He Kegang, and the others — each to lead six hundred elite riders, with heavy armor and large horses, to strike directly at the enemy's center!"

"Once these six formations struck, Ma Shilong, observing from high ground that the enemy formation already showed signs of collapse, immediately gave the order: the command banner forward, the remaining three thousand elite riders, all-out general assault!"

"Yet before our central-army main force could even charge home, the barbarian horsemen had already collapsed across the entire line and were fleeing for their lives!"

"Our great army drove the troops forward behind them, squeezing the routed enemy soldiers into the valley mouth east of Qingcheng; enemy men and horses trampled one another, were cut down, were crushed underfoot — the dead and wounded were beyond counting!"

Huo Weihua drew a deep breath; by this point, his voice was trembling uncontrollably.

He swept his gaze around the great hall and pronounced, word by word: "At that moment, it was only the sixth mark of the mao hour! The light of day had just barely broken!"

"In a mere two marks of time, our Great Ming, six thousand against thirty thousand, shattered the Tiger Chieftain's great army beneath the walls of Qingcheng!"

As his words fell, inside Wuying Hall there was first a deathly silence, and then an eruption of cheers like roaring mountains and tsunamis!

"Magnificent!" "Great Ming, mighty and triumphant!"

The exhilaration and wild joy that had been brewing for days now burst forth entirely in this moment.

Whether capital nobles or sober senior ministers, none could now restrain the excitement in their hearts; every face was glowing, every spirit soaring.

Six thousand against thirty thousand!

Two marks of time to break the enemy!

Beneath the walls of Qingcheng, settled in a single battle!

And all of this had happened less than two months after the new sovereign's ascension.

In Huo Weihua's clear and lucid narration,

the vivid imagery and visceral impact of meticulous planning, steady advances, and a final single lethal strike were far beyond what the dry words of a military dispatch could convey.

No one knew who was the first to clap in excitement.

The crisp, solitary applause sounded extraordinarily abrupt amid the boiling sea of voices.

Then — clap! clap! clap!

The applause swiftly merged into a single wave, from scattered points instantly surging into a roaring tide that resounded through the entire solemn and stately Wuying Hall!

Zhu Youjian before his desk was not the least bit angered; on the contrary, he too joined this tide without hesitation.

— In this era, no one understood better than Zhu Youjian how to stir men's hearts.

Just half a shichen before the meeting began, he had personally summoned Huo Weihua to the Western Park and, word by word, refined and polished this battle briefing draft.

The glory of victory must of course go to the officers and men who fought bravely at the front, to the decisive Regional Commander Ma Shilong who seized the moment, and even more to the great Emperor of far-sighted vision.

But it must also go to all the civil officials who contributed effort, shed sweat, or even merely nodded in silent assent during this campaign.

This was not a logic of evaluating merits and distributing rewards — it was a logic of consolidating a political force!

Zhu Youjian had to bind the interests, honors, and disgraces of the New Policies faction together as tightly as possible from the very start.

Beginning with this Battle of Qingcheng before their eyes!

Beginning with the capital New Policies! With the Northern Zhili New Policies! With the Shandong New Policies! With one New Policy after another, whether bloody or bloodless!

This was the greatest meaning of victory!

This, too, was precisely the first and most important fruit he, Zhu Youjian, after days of deliberation, intended to pluck from this glorious victory!

What he wanted had never been merely the personal prestige of an emperor, but something deeper — the allegiance of hearts and the unity of thought!

Thump! The small wooden mallet struck again.

Zhu Youjian rose slowly to his feet, his burning gaze sweeping across the face of every minister.

"This victory is the merit of the frontline officers and men who gave their lives, and of Regional Commander Ma Shilong, who seized the moment with decisive resolve! It is also the merit of all you ministers, who collaborated with wholehearted devotion and exerted every effort!"

"Only because our Great Ming has nurtured its scholars for three hundred years could we have today's unity of civil and military, the raising of six thousand elite cavalry in a single month, and the victory at Qingcheng over the barbarian chieftain!"

He spread his arms wide, his gaze fervent, exerting every art of incitement: "Gentlemen! Hail the officers and soldiers! Hail Ma Shilong! Hail all you ministers and officials! Hail our Great Ming!"

The moment Zhu Youjian's words fell, even before the first cheer could rise—

Thunderous applause instantly erupted throughout the great hall.

Every civil official and ennobled aristocrat, whether sincere or feigned, rose to their feet in excitement, clapping with all their might.

Even those officials from the Ministry of War who had offered countless conservative opinions when drafting the rescripts now clapped until their palms flushed red, as though they themselves had been the chief advocates for battle.

In this moment, victory belonged to the officers and soldiers, glory belonged to the ministers, and splendor belonged to Great Ming!

And Zhu Youjian, who had orchestrated it all, merely sought to harvest their hearts for his use.