Chapter 178: A Traitor Framed into a Martyr! (Please Subscribe!)

After receiving Zhu Cilang's decree, Hooge dispatched his own bayara commander Oboi to ride at full speed with the decree to Dorgon's main camp.

Hooge's thinking was simple: didn't they just want a Hong Chengchou? Didn't the Great Qing happen to have one right here? Just summon Hong Chengchou, have him take over the defense of Beijing, and then hand it over to the Great Qing — wouldn't that settle it? No need to storm the city, and no need to sacrifice so many brave warriors of the Eight Banners.

So Oboi set out with the decree, riding day and night for a full day and night until he reached Yongping Prefecture, where Dorgon was stationed, and personally delivered the decree to Dorgon, whose face was so grim it looked fit to kill.

Dorgon took the decree and read it through once, then passed it to Fan Wencheng at his side and had him read it too. Only after Fan Wencheng finished did Dorgon ask, "Well? Is it Zhu Cilang's own hand?"

"It should be," Fan Wencheng said. "The handwriting is identical to that in the letters Zhu Cilang sent Hong Chengchou."

Dorgon nodded and asked Oboi, "What does Hooge mean by this?"

Oboi answered, "The Banner Lord Beile simply wishes to ask Minister Hong to make a trip, so that our brave warriors need not suffer heavy casualties beneath the strong walls of Beijing."

Dorgon nodded and waved a hand, dismissing Oboi to wait outside for word.

The moment Oboi was out the door, Dorgon let out a heavy snort.

Fan Wencheng, standing nearby, gave a shudder and said hurriedly to Dorgon, "My Prince, perhaps we should let Hong Chengchou make the trip to Beijing and redeem himself through meritorious service!"

Dorgon shot Fan Wencheng a sideways glare. "Do you dare vouch for him? What if he enters Beijing and takes charge of a stubborn defense? He knows how to fight, and now there is no Chongzhen Emperor above him making a mess of things — could we take a Beijing that he holds?"

"This slave—" Fan Wencheng dropped to his knees with a thud before Dorgon. "This slave is but a booi, and has no standing to vouch for him."

"You will not vouch for him — what of the others?" Dorgon's gaze swept coldly across the great tent. "Is there anyone willing to vouch for him?"

Dodo said, "What is there left to vouch for? The evidence is already conclusive. Beijing recognizes him as their Hong Chengchou, and Shen Zhixiang, the Duke Who Continues Obedience, has sent word from Xuanfu that Jiang Xiang in Datong has raised the Ming banner, refused to submit to the Great Qing, and allowed the troops of Zhu Cijiong and Wang Yongji to enter his territory. This Hong Chengchou is plainly living in the Qing camp with his heart in the Ming!"

"If we let him enter Beijing, I fear this whole expedition inside the Pass will have been for nothing!"

Dorgon's trusted confidant, the Grand Secretary of the National History Academy Gūwalgiya Ganglin, spoke up: "Though the evidence is conclusive, he should still be given a chance to defend himself — at least let him die fully convinced of his guilt."

This Ganglin was on fairly good terms with Hong Chengchou and wanted to lend him a hand. But vouching for old Hong was out of the question — their friendship had not reached that degree of iron.

"Very well, so be it." Dorgon nodded. "This prince will give him one last chance, and hear what he has to say."

Hong Chengchou was soon brought in, not bound, merely watched by two bayara of the Plain White Banner. Dorgon had Zhu Cilang's decree shown to him, and after reading it, Hong Chengchou's whole frame collapsed.

This Zhu Cilang was too cunning! Every piece of evidence could be strung into a chain — how was he supposed to talk his way out of this?

And why did Zhu Cilang want to ruin him like this? Hong Chengchou truly could not fathom it. He had become a traitor, yes. But in this age there were so many traitors — even the brother of Zhu Cilang's beloved consort Wu Sanmei, Wu Sanfeng, and her uncle Zu Dashou were traitors.

Zhu Cilang had not gone after any other traitor! He had not schemed against the Three Obedient Kings and the One Obedient Duke, nor had he tried to harm Fan Wencheng. Why had he gone to such elaborate lengths, laying so many traps, to destroy him, Hong Chengchou? What grudge did he bear against the great Crown Prince Zhu? There was none!

How to explain it? Clever as Hong Chengchou was, he had no idea what was going on — and at this moment he could not possibly know how great a contribution he would have made, in history, to the Manchu Qing's conquest of the realm!

So he simply had no way to defend himself. All he could do was wait for death!

Yet he was, of all things, a coward who feared death — had he not feared death, he would have become a martyr long ago. It was because he feared death that he had become a traitor. But now he, a traitor, had actually been framed into a martyr! Faced with such a thing, how could a man not break down?

Hong Chengchou had always had a rather shifty, mean look about him, and now he looked even more like a sly, petty scoundrel. He knelt there listlessly, trembling all over, with the look of a man half-dead.

"This, this—" Dorgon, watching his worthless appearance, shook his head repeatedly. "This Hong Chengchou does not even look like a Lord Guan who lived in Cao Cao's camp with his heart in Han!"

At those words, Hong Chengchou seemed to seize on a life-saving straw and immediately responded, "Your Highness sees clearly — this subject was never a figure like Lord Guan. This subject is but a petty man; how could my heart possibly be in the Ming camp?"

Dorgon shook his head and sighed. "Hong Hengjiu, stop pretending. What you have done is even more splendid than Lord Guan! The Great Ming was already destroyed, and you, all by yourself, brought it back to life! That is why the Zhu Crown Prince wants to make you a Grand Secretary and enfeoff you as a marquis!"

"You, sir, are destined to go down in history! Destined for the Biographies of Loyal Subjects. But our Great Qing cannot keep you! Ah, this prince can only say that it is a pity we did not meet sooner!"

Hong Chengchou had nowhere to weep even if he wanted to. What kind of business was this? He was plainly a dyed-in-the-wool traitor, and now he had somehow become a hero of the anti-Qing resistance! And in a moment he was going to die a noble martyr's death.

"Prince Regent, this subject has been wronged!" Hong Chengchou, knowing things had taken a bad turn, burst into loud weeping. "This subject is truly no loyal minister destined for the history books — this subject is nothing but a petty man who clings to life and fears death!"

Dorgon shook his head. "Ah, do not slander yourself. You are a martyr — a martyr of the Great Ming!"

"Gentlemen, do you not all think he is a martyr?"

Dodo nodded. "He is a martyr, no doubt about it!"

Prince Zheng, Jirgalang, gave a thumbs-up. "He may not look the part, but what he has done is unquestionably the work of a martyr!"

Fan Wencheng bowed deeply. "Hong Hengjiu, please accept Fan Wencheng's bow!"

Grand Secretary Ganglin also bowed. "Hong Hengjiu, Ganglin is full of admiration!"

Well now — they were all bowing to him.

Dorgon sighed. "Since everyone agrees that Hengjiu is a martyr, then we shall not keep him. Drag him out and behead him! Fan Wencheng, you will oversee the execution!"

Hong Chengchou was truly desperate now, and shouted at the top of his lungs, "I have been wronged! I, Hong Chengchou, am truly not Zhu Cilang's inside agent — my loyalty to the Great Qing is absolute!"

But by now no one in the tent believed he was a traitor, so no matter what he shouted, the two bayara warriors still hauled him out beyond the camp gate. Fan Wencheng, overseeing the execution, followed along, and had somehow obtained a jug of wine. Seeing Hong Chengchou, weeping like a man made of tears, bound and held there, he carried the wine over to offer him a final cup.

"Brother Hengjiu, drink before you go!"

How could Hong Chengchou get it down? He merely wailed, "I have been wronged! I, Hong Chengchou, am truly not Zhu Cilang's inside agent — my loyalty to the Great Qing is absolute!"

Fan Wencheng shook his head. This acting was truly first-rate; one could not help but admire it. He waved a hand and said to the two bayara warriors, "Give him a quick end!"

Then the blade rose and fell. The blade was very quick; Hong Chengchou was in great pain.

The fifth day of the fifth month, the seventeenth year of Chongzhen of the Great Ming. Outside the Desheng Gate of Beijing.

The man the people of Beijing had been craning their necks for — the Keeper of Beijing for the Great Ming, Governor-General of Military Affairs for Northern Zhili, Grand Secretary Hong Chengchou — had finally arrived! In black gauze official cap and python robe, dressed as a Grand Ming Supreme Commander, he came seated in a coffin — he had been beheaded, so what else would he sit in but a coffin? And not some flimsy thin-plank coffin either, but a fine coffin of Manchurian ash, lacquered red, looking grand and dignified. And it was delivered personally by Oboi, newly promoted to First Warrior of the Manchus, leading white-armored troops of the Plain Yellow Banner — one could hardly imagine a more imposing escort.

"Th-this — how is it a coffin?"

"Could Supreme Commander Hong be—"

Luo Yangxing and Guang Shiheng, who had led a crowd of turncoat officials and bankrupt Beijing gentry outside the barbican of Desheng Gate to welcome Hong Chengchou, were so shocked at the sight of the coffin that they could not even finish their words.

Oboi had already spurred his horse forward, coming up before Luo Yangxing and Guang Shiheng. From horseback he cupped his hands and said, "Gentlemen, the Hong Chengchou you asked for has been delivered. He is inside the coffin — please sign for him."

"H-how, how did he end up packed inside a coffin?" Luo Yangxing asked. "Is he dead or alive?"

"Dead, of course," Oboi said with a wry smile. "If he were alive he would ride in a sedan chair or a cart — how could he sit in a coffin?"

"How did he die?"

Oboi spread his hands. "Commander Luo, that is a long story. Perhaps you should first inspect and sign for the delivery, and we can talk it over slowly afterward."

Oboi was just the delivery man. Whether Hong Chengchou was dead or alive was no concern of his; his job was simply to deliver.

(End of Chapter)