Chapter 587: Why Not Just Give the Empress Title to Wu Sanmei

"Your Majesty's grace to the Zheng family is as vast as heaven itself; Zhilong can only repay a fraction of it with his life."

On his lips Zheng Zhilong spoke words of gratitude, but his black heart had leapt into his throat.

There is no princess in this world who comes for free — at the very least, no one gets such an enormous favor from the Hongxing Emperor without a reason!

This emperor is shrewd through and through; he is surely scheming something wicked!

Zhu Cilang smiled with perfect sincerity. Now that he was emperor, he naturally had to set an example for all under heaven and could no longer be as crafty as before.

This time he had his eye mainly on Zheng Jiangong's potential — the boy was a stock with room to grow! If there was one man under heaven who could run a naval academy properly for the Great Ming, that man was surely Zheng Jiangong!

Zheng Zhilong would not do, nor would Zheng Sen; only Zheng Jiangong could do it.

Because Zheng Zhilong had his own pirate enterprise and could not possibly devote himself wholeheartedly to the Great Ming's service. And Zheng Sen was destined to become Grand Secretary Zheng — he could not be allowed to abandon the classics for the sea, or else who would succeed the great minister Wei? From now on Zheng Sen's biography would have to be modeled on the "Biography of Cao Can." Besides, Zheng Sen had spent too long among men like Qian Qianyi and had become too much of a scholar-official.

Of course, apart from valuing Zheng Jiangong's potential, Zhu Cilang also needed the marriage of Princess Kunxing to placate Zheng Zhilong. Because he had already decided to make Wu Sanmei his empress — no matter whether the child Sanmei was carrying turned out to be a boy or a girl!

"Duke of Quanguo, rise quickly — We still have matters to discuss."

At these words from Zhu Cilang, Zheng Zhilong hastily drew a cold breath, rose, returned to his chair, and sat down properly, waiting to hear the price — a princess's worth was surely an astronomical figure! Several million taels might not even suffice.

But Zhu Cilang's next words were not addressed to Zheng Zhilong; they were spoken to everyone present. "We intend, after the Northern Expedition succeeds, to make Wu Sangui's younger sister, Wu Sanmei, Our empress!"

What?

The position of empress goes to Wu Sanmei, just like that?

Zheng Zhilong's black heart sank. Now he understood how that boy Shichizaemon had picked up a princess for nothing — the Hongxing Emperor was going to make Wu Sanmei his empress, and the princess was a consolation gift to the Zheng family.

Wu Xiang's heart sank too. Why wait until the Northern Expedition was won? Why not establish the empress right now? What was that boy Sangui scheming? Even as his father, he could not make sense of it!

The Chongzhen Retired Emperor, for his part, frowned in deep thought. Was that unfilial son marrying his sister off to "Tian Qi" to placate the Zheng family? And making Sanmei empress — was that to win over Wu Sangui? Or to strike a bargain with the Wu family? And what about that little girl from Dorgon's household? What was to become of her?

How complicated it all was! Even establishing an empress and marrying off a princess involved so much calculation. Being emperor was truly exhausting; better to retire early and be done with it!

Chongzhen thought for a moment, then asked, "Our son, is the Northern Expedition truly at hand? How long have we been secure in Jiangnan? Is this not a bit hasty?"

Zhu Cilang thought to himself: You muddle-headed sovereign, you want to be a Retired Emperor content to hole up in one corner! That is wrong — even as Retired Emperor, you ought to show the spirit of "while life endures, the Northern Expedition never ceases"!

"Imperial Father," Zhu Cilang said with a solemn face, "we must not imitate Zhao Gou and content ourselves with the ease of a corner of Jiangnan!"

Hmph, that is because YOU cannot imitate Zhao Gou! Chongzhen thought to himself: We, for Our part, would rather like to.

"Then Our son will again lead the campaign in person?" Chongzhen asked.

Zhu Cilang said, "Naturally We shall lead it in person, but it is still early; We estimate We shall not march north until winter." He paused. "From now on, it is all preparation for war. The Art of War says the highest form of warfare is to attack the enemy's plans. From now on, besides preparing for war, We shall attack plans. As long as Wu Sangui can stand on our side, and the Dai princedom can hold out in the Lüliang Mountains, our chances of victory remain great."

Chongzhen nodded gently. "If Sangui can truly turn his spear around and strike, it would be a great blessing for the Great Ming!"

Nanjing inner city, the Duke Protector's residence. Deep within this luxurious and splendid mansion, in a study, Wu Xiang, who had already returned from Duke of Xuanhu, sat before his desk in a daze. On the desk lay a sheet of letter paper, along with a brush and an inkstone, in which the ink had already been ground. Yet the letter paper was still perfectly clean — not a single character had been written on it.

Beside old Wu stood a burly man — none other than his adopted son, the Right Military Adviser, the Jinzhou-Overcoming Marquis Wu Guoyong.

Seeing his adoptive father's dazed expression, Wu Guoyong said in a low voice, "Adoptive Father, this Northern Expedition is Changbo's chance to turn his spear and strike. When it happens, our family will have three dukes in one household — an honor without a second example since the founding of the Ming!"

Wu Xiang did not pick up his adopted son's thread, but only said slowly, "Ningxia and Gansu are barren, bitter lands, and the Ming has always had its Western Army, which has never been of one road with our Liaodong garrison. The second boy must be utterly worn out, barely managing to hold on, no?"

Wu Guoyong was also a veteran of the Ningyuan Army, and of course he knew the old Ming army's factions. The southern army and northern army looked down on each other, and within the northern army the Liaodong and Shaanxi forces were riddled with conflicts. And Wu Sangui, taking Liaodong troops into Shaanxi, had also sweet-talked a batch of Gansu-Shaanxi Ming military families into surrendering to the Qing — internal stability there would be a miracle!

Moreover, the Gansu-Shaanxi Ming forces were numerous — a great mass of military garrisons and guard posts, countless hereditary military families, and among them many who could fight!

Most of this lot had now submitted to Wu Sangui, and together with the Liaodong troops he had brought, they were crammed into the cramped territory of the northwest, Gansu and Shaanxi. It would be a miracle if their days were easy. The men below were having a hard time, and they could all fight; Wu Sangui, sitting on top of them, was being roasted over a fire.

Wu Xiang paused, then sighed again. "His Majesty making Sanmei empress is of course what I, as her father, have dreamed of — but what Sangui needs most is hard silver! If he is truly to raise troops, without one or two million taels, will the Shaanxi-Gansu officers below him so much as stir?"

"One or two million taels... there's no way to get it through!" Wu Guoyong shook his head. "The eastern barbarians and Zhang Xianzhong block the road. How could that much silver get across?"

Wu Xiang sighed again.

Wu Guoyong said, "Fortunately His Majesty is no miserly sovereign, and he has ample coin and grain. If Changbo truly sends out his troops, His Majesty's hand will not be small."

"Do you still keep contact with Guogui?" Wu Xiang asked in a low voice.

His own contact with Wu Sangui had in fact already been cut off — such contact did neither father nor son any good, because strictly speaking it amounted to colluding with the enemy! When no one pursued it, there was no problem, but the moment an investigation began, heads could roll.

"Yes!" Wu Guoyong nodded.

He and Wu Xiang's other adopted son, Wu Guogui, had grown up together and were as close as brothers; even though they now served different masters, they still kept in contact privately.

Of course, his contact with Wu Guogui had been reported to the Southern Provost Office of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, so it could not be counted as collusion with the enemy.

"Very well," Wu Xiang sighed, and picked up the brush. "Then write letters to Guogui and Sangui."

"Well? Has the letter been written? Will Wu Sangui turn his coat?"

"Your Majesty, the Duke Protector has written the letter. Wu Sangui will certainly turn his coat, but..."

"But what?"

"The Duke Protector worries that Wu Sangui cannot command the loyalty of the men in Gansu and Shaanxi."

Nanjing, the Forbidden City, the Hall of Fengtian, inside the Eastern Warm Pavilion. Zhu Cilang was at once reading, head lowered, the "Travelogue of Japan" written by Zheng Sen, and listening to Wu Guoyong's report.

"Why can he not command their loyalty?" Zhu Cilang raised his head and looked at Wu Guoyong.

Wu Guoyong said, "At present Wu Sangui has two forces under him. One is his own Guanning Army, some thirty or forty thousand strong, all old brothers who have followed him all the way from Ningyuan. The other is the troops of the Gansu-Shaanxi military families, also thirty or forty thousand strong. Too many troops, too poor a land, all crowded together — conflicts are inevitable."

"Can he not expand a little?" Zhu Cilang smiled. "There is still plenty of territory in Qingtang and the Western Regions, is there not?"

"Easier said than done," Wu Guoyong said, shaking his head. "Your Majesty may not know, but in the tenth and eleventh years of Chongzhen, many Oirat tribesmen surged in from the west into the Qingtang region. They are called the Khoshut tribe, and their leader is titled Güshi Khan, the overlord of the Oirat tribes — not to be underestimated. He first attacked and killed the Khalkha Mongols' Tsogtu Khan in Qingtang and swallowed up his followers. In the fifteenth year he marched south into Tibet and destroyed the Tsangpa Khan. By now he has unified all of Qinghai and Tibet; his troops are strong and his horses stout, and he is very hard to deal with. And the Oirat tribes today include more than just the strong Khoshut — there are also the Choros, Dörbet, and Torghut, three great tribes, all to the west of Gansu and Shaanxi.

Furthermore, there is also a Yarkent Khanate entrenched in Turpan. Its strength is nothing much, but it sits wedged between the great Oirat tribes and Gansu, and is not easy to deal with either."

(End of Chapter)