Chapter 139: What on Earth Has Happened to the Great Ming

"Fan Wencheng, Hong Chengchou, Zu Dashou — what do you make of this?"

The Qing regent, Prince Regent Dorgon — long-faced, small-eyed, with a full beard running down his cheeks — narrowed his little eyes as he studied the report in his hand. On the table also lay a letter requesting troops to help suppress the bandits, issued in the name of the Prince of Ding, Zhu Cijiong.

Silence filled the room. Only after a long while did Zu Dashou break it: "My lord, my son would not lie to me. Wu Sangui has certainly never left Shanhai Pass, and the Guanning Army has not moved."

Dorgon's gaze suddenly shot like lightning toward Hong Chengchou, who had a somewhat shifty, rat-like look about him. "Minister Hong, what do you think?"

Hong Chengchou, fifty-one this year, looked older than his age, gaunt and bony — a dried-up old man. Yet this very dried-up old man could be called the pivotal figure who might decide the rise and fall of the Ming, the Qing, and the Shun.

Had the Chongzhen Emperor been able to make proper use of this Hong Chengchou, he might not have been able to turn back the tide, but he could at least have prolonged the Ming's life.

Even if he could not use him, had he left him to the Southern Ming to replace Shi Kefa or Ma Shiying, perhaps half the realm could have been preserved.

Regrettably, so important a man had been ruined by Chongzhen and the then Minister of War, Chen Xinjia, and made a captive of Hong Taiji. He then became a turncoat official, and the foremost authority on Ming and Shun affairs in the Qing camp.

Previously, Hong Chengchou's series of judgments about the Shun's eastern campaign had all been astonishingly accurate. Li Zicheng's eastern campaign had unfolded almost exactly as he had predicted. And the Ming army's thousand-li collapse had likewise been entirely within his expectations.

He had even foreseen that Wu Sangui would not arrive in time to relieve the capital, and that Chongzhen would die for his country or be captured — only on this final point had there been a slight miscalculation.

The Chongzhen Emperor had actually failed to fulfill the duty of "guarding the gate of the realm and dying for the altars," and instead fled Beijing. This made Hong Chengchou think somewhat less of his former master — the Ming was already in this state; what was the point of Chongzhen fleeing Beijing but to cling to a few more wretched days? Better to cling on than to go out gloriously, and at least leave a fine name in history.

And fleeing in such panic — how many more days could he cling to? So when news of the battle at Tianjin Garrison arrived, Hong Chengchou had once again misjudged. He had originally reckoned Tianjin Garrison could not hold for even a day, yet the result was a defeat for the Shun army!

Hong Chengchou frowned, evidently deep in thought: "My lord, if what Young Master Zu says is true, and Wu Sangui and the Guanning Army have indeed not moved from Shanhai Pass, then this subject dares guarantee: Chongzhen is either already dead, or has been sidelined! The one wielding power in Tianjin Garrison is certainly not the Chongzhen Emperor, but someone ten or a hundred times more formidable than he!"

Fan Wencheng, a Grand Secretary of the Inner Court, a few years younger than Hong Chengchou and with a dignified square face, gave a cold laugh: "Then tell us, Brother Hengjiu, who in the Ming is ten or a hundred times more formidable than the Chongzhen Emperor?"

Hong Chengchou shook his head and said: "Though the Ming has a vast population, among whom there may be no lack of heroes, yet upon the court, among the nobility, among the imperial kinsmen, within the palace, there is no one of consequence. Chongzhen has four sons still living, but all were raised deep within the palace, lacking experience, and all are young — the eldest, the Crown Prince, is only sixteen, and presumably cannot shoulder such a burden."

It turned out that the news of the palace coup at the Gate of Supreme Pole and Zhu Cilang's seizure of power had not been picked up by Qing spies — before the coup at the Gate of Supreme Pole, the Qing spies lurking in Beijing's inner city had already withdrawn, because in their view Beijing was certain to fall, and there was nothing left worth spying on. Better to withdraw outside the city first and avoid the storm, then re-enter after Beijing changed hands.

So this crucial piece of intelligence was something Hong Chengchou still did not know!

"Aiyo, if Minister Hong had not mentioned the Crown Prince, this old man would nearly have forgotten." Zu Dashou patted his forehead. "Truly senile. My son told me that the Chongzhen Emperor's Crown Prince received an edict to take command of the army on the sixteenth day of the third month, before the city fell! From the seventeenth onward, the Ming troops inside Beijing were under the command of the army-supervising Crown Prince. So the breakout on the twenty-first was also directed by the Crown Prince."

Zu Dashou was not senile — he simply did not know how to extricate himself from this mess!

That Wu Sanmei was his niece!

And now his niece had turned into the Empress of the Ming! How was he supposed to carry on his work as a traitor with any peace of mind?

If the Qing masters ever grew suspicious of the Zu family, what then?

"The Crown Prince? A sixteen-year-old Crown Prince?" Hong Chengchou looked stunned. "How is that possible? How could a mere child be so formidable? Besides, the Chongzhen Emperor is obstinate and self-willed by nature. Even if he issued an edict for the Crown Prince to command the army, it would be in name only — he would never actually grant real power."

"Minister Hong makes a fair point," Zu Dashou said.

Cold sweat was already beading on Zu Dashou's forehead. Of course he knew about the coup at the Gate of Supreme Pole! But he did not believe it was the work of a mere child like Zhu Cilang. In his mind, the coup at the Gate of Supreme Pole must have been orchestrated behind the scenes by Wu Xiang and his son Wu Sanfu.

Who would have thought that Wu Xiang, who looked so honest, was actually a treacherous hero like Cao Cao! Brazenly playing the trick of holding the Son of Heaven hostage to command the feudal lords.

But how was he supposed to report this to his Qing masters?

Wu Xiang was his brother-in-law!

Dorgon had listened to the three men talk for a long while and still felt thoroughly confused, but by now he was like an arrow on a drawn bowstring — there was no reason not to let fly.

As early as the third day of the fourth month, Dorgon — then still a prince regent — and the other prince regent, Jirgalang, had jointly announced that they would launch a great southern campaign and seize the opportunity to take Beijing. The entire court had been stirred to enthusiasm at once: everyone had long been looking forward to this day! For more than ten years now, every time the Qing troops entered the passes, it had been like marching through uninhabited territory. They always returned in triumph, carrying off countless slaves, cattle, horses, and valuables, and every warrior who followed the campaign came back laden with spoils. And this time, the objective of the campaign was to occupy Beijing!

Beijing was the capital of the Great Ming, where the wealth of all under heaven was gathered! It was said that gold, silver, pearls, and jewels were piled up like mountains, and beautiful women spread like clouds. If they could take Beijing, every man among them would make a fortune.

And if they could make Beijing their capital and rule all under heaven from it, then their sons and grandsons would enjoy inexhaustible wealth and honor!

So this time the mobilization of the Eight Banners was on an unprecedented scale. Every man strove to be first, every one of them brave and eager, terrified of being left behind. Only Hooge, Hong Taiji's eldest son, knew he would not get much out of it, so his enthusiasm was low, and he claimed he had never had smallpox as an excuse not to join the campaign. As a result, Dorgon seized on this pretext, gave him a thorough dressing-down, and also secured for himself the title of regent from the orphan and widow — Shunzhi and Empress Dowager Xiaozhuang.

Now that he had just become regent, how could Dorgon back down? That would make him the common enemy of the Eight Banners! Did he still want to be regent or not?

So Dorgon laughed heartily a few times, rubbed his nearly shaven scalp, and said: "A sixteen-year-old brat — even if he is formidable, what of it? Our Eight Banners' crack troops are invincible under heaven. How could a mere child stand in their way?"

He paused. "Since Wang Yongji and Wu Sangui wish to welcome our Qing troops through the pass, then we shall not stand on ceremony. Zu Dashou, this afternoon bring your son to the princely residence. This prince will make an agreement with him to jointly campaign against the roving bandits!

Tomorrow this prince will personally lead the great army, march on Beijing, and establish our rule over the Central Plain!"

Shanhai Pass, the office of the Governor-General of Ji-Liao.

Wu Sangui, Wang Yongji, and Tian Cunzhi were at that moment all stunned by the news they had just received.

The news had been brought by Feng Yuanyang, and there was a great deal of it, all of it sensational. Had it not come from the mouth of Feng Yuanyang, Governor of Tianjin, they would not have dared believe any of it was true.

"Governor Feng," Wu Sangui said, frowning and weighing his words, "is the army-supervising Crown Prince truly, truly in full command? He hasn't — hasn't been seized control of by someone, has he?"

Feng Yuanyang gave a bitter smile: "Is the Earl of Pingxi asking whether the army-supervising Crown Prince is being manipulated from behind by your esteemed father?"

Wu Sangui was instantly embarrassed and said hastily: "No, no, no. My father is a loyal subject. He would never be a traitorous minister..."

Wang Yongji and Gao Di, the Regional Commander of Shanhai Pass, both frowned deeply and eyed Wu Sangui warily out of the corners of their eyes — this man still looked a bit treacherous! Like father, like son — who would have thought your old Wu family would produce such a treacherous hero for these troubled times!

Feng Yuanyang nodded. "No one knows a father better than his son. Although old General Wu has been employed by His Highness the Crown Prince as a trusted right-hand man, the real power at Dagu still rests in the hands of His Highness the Crown Prince. This Thousand Years is exceedingly skilled at winning people's hearts — he knows how to hand out offices and promises, how to rouse the soldiers, how to share hardship with his officers and men, and at critical moments he can lead the charge himself. He has already won the hearts of the troops, and he has also secured a group of senior court officials. He is by no means anyone's puppet!"

(End of Chapter)