Chapter 627: There's Hope of Getting Out of This Trap!

Qufu had always been the Kong family's domain. From the Five Dynasties onward, the land of Qufu County had been under Kong family rule most of the time, and countless direct-line descendants of the Kong clan had served as Qufu magistrate or Qufu registrar. By the early Ming, the post of Qufu magistrate had even been made hereditary for the Kong family!

Qufu County had thus become the Kong family's fief!

Six or seven hundred years of rule had long accustomed the people of Qufu County to treating the Kong family as heaven. Once the Duke for Perpetuating the Sage fled, the residents within Qufu's walls would surely fall into extreme panic.

And with Qing cavalry scouts active outside the city, once they discovered chaos within Qufu and the common folk fleeing in droves — well, why stand on ceremony? Wouldn't they come charging in to loot graves and make a fortune?

But Kong Yinzhi could no longer worry about all that. All he could think of now was getting out of Qufu fast — in any case, he could not let the Qing army seize this old bag of bones of his, so close to the grave as it was.

Yet the Qufu Kong family was, after all, a thousand-year-old great house, with a huge population and even more accumulated movable wealth, and now it kept several thousand household retainers and armed servants — slipping away quietly was impossible. So the moment the Duke's order went out, before nightfall, the whole city of Qufu was thrown into chaos.

The city's commoners, soldiers' families, the descendants of the Qufu Kong clan, the officials under Shi Kefa, Governor-General of Seven Provinces, and their families — half the city's residents took to the streets, crowding before the gates of the Duke's mansion and at Qufu's several city gates, clamoring without cease.

Some wanted to flee along with them.

Some wanted to stop the Duke from fleeing.

Still others were simply panicked, with no idea what to do, and only wanted someone to lean on.

The din and clamor rose over the high walls of the Duke's mansion and reached the ears of Kong Yinzhi, the Duke for Perpetuating the Sage, who had already changed into traveling clothes.

Kong Yinzhi was fifty-six this year. He did not look old, but his health was very poor and he had been ill all along. Now, having to abandon his ancestral estate and flee, his heart was both vexed and stifled; gold stars swam before his eyes, and his ears buzzed. The clamor coming in from outside, reaching his ears, somehow took on the sound of war drums and battle cries, making him even more flustered and terrified.

He sat on a grand armchair under the veranda, cushioned with soft padding, watching the servants and maidservants packing up the household's valuables in the courtyard, watching chest after chest of heavy silver being carried up from the cellar by the household's strongmen and then borne through this courtyard toward the rear gate of the Kong mansion, and only then did his heart settle a little.

Kong Yinzheng, who always called him "Brother Sage Duke," was actually quite capable. In less than half a day he had organized the escape almost completely. As soon as it grew dark they could leave Qufu, this place of heartbreak, and go to Yidu for a few days of peace. Nanjing they would not go to — Nanjing was the domain of that black-hearted imperial prince; going there would only drain away the two million-plus taels of silver they had left.

Fortunately, Kong Yinzhi was on good terms with Zhu Yihai and could go seek refuge with him. Moreover, the situation in Qingzhou Prefecture was far better than here in Qufu. With Gao Hongtu holding the line in Jinan Prefecture, the eastern barbarians had not managed to break through in the past two or three years.

Furthermore, the Kong family had a mountain stronghold in Mount Taihe in Qingzhou Prefecture, situated on treacherous terrain and with very fine scenery. It could perfectly serve as a place for Kong Yinzhi to recuperate.

He was just fantasizing about cultivating his health and spirit in Mount Taihe when he saw Kong Yinzheng, the steward he had newly appointed, stride in wearing iron armor and riding boots, and salute uneasily: "My Lord Duke... the household troops are fully assembled. Two thousand picked men, half musketeers, half armored soldiers, ready at any moment to escort Your Grace out of the city."

Kong Yinzhi looked at him: "What of outside the city? Has any large force of eastern barbarian cavalry appeared?"

Kong Yinzheng shook his head: "No large force of eastern barbarians has been spotted, though a few small parties of their cavalry have come. My Lord Duke, must we truly go?"

Hearing Kong Yinzheng's words, Kong Yinzhi let out a long breath of relief. "We go. We have held Qufu so long — we have done right by the Zhu family!"

Had Kong Yinzhi not made this departure, he would indeed have done right by the Zhu family's many years of favor. But by leaving, he untied a great knot for Dorgon in his predicament.

For that alone, he deserved a grand funeral.

When Kong Yinzhi led the entire household of the Duke's mansion, along with tens of thousands of commoners, soldiers' families, officials' families, officials, and troops residing in Qufu, fleeing the city in a chaotic mass — the Qing Imperial Ama Dorgon had no intention whatsoever of attacking Qufu. He still clung to the illusion of using war to seek peace, hoping to obtain a precious peace through negotiation.

To achieve that end, he had no choice but to array his forces once more south of the Dawen River, centered on the high ground of Mount Gui, facing off against Zhu Cilang on Mount Yunmeng and Mount Mati north of the Dawen.

It was a mere standoff. Both sides put on a show of bared fangs and brandished claws, but neither had the courage to fight again.

For Zhu Cilang, he could not afford to lose now — although the capital in his hands was substantial, replenishing his military strength would take time!

Muskets, cannon, iron armor, pikes, and the like would take considerable time to transport to Shandong. And recruiting new troops, then completing their training, was not the work of a single morning or evening.

In addition, Zhu Cilang planned to take the opportunity to reorganize the armies of the four garrisons of Shandong and the Huaibei garrison, consolidating them into twenty model regiments and achieving "semi-centralization."

Before this series of tasks was complete, he needed the thirty thousand men in hand to hold the field. If he rashly gave battle and was shattered by Dorgon, the situation in Shandong would likely become unmanageable!

As for Dorgon, he could not afford to win. He still had seventy-two thousand troops in hand — more than double Zhu Cilang's force! Moreover, after capturing the cannon and muskets of the various Shandong armies, Dorgon's firepower was no longer inferior to his opponent's.

If he launched a full assault, his odds of victory were still considerable.

But Dorgon truly could not afford to win!

He already knew that the forces on Mount Yunmeng and Mount Mati were the model troops of the Hard-New Army, and they were now holding strong defensive terrain. If the Qing army attacked in force, their losses would likely exceed the enemy's!

Kill ten thousand of the enemy, and lose twenty thousand of one's own!

After such a battle, the Great Qing would not be far from victorious destruction. Dorgon had no wish to become the last Imperial Ama of the Great Qing!

So he too dared not fight.

With neither side daring to fight, there was nothing for it but to negotiate. The envoys of both sides came and went, deceiving and coaxing, and within less than two days had made several trips back and forth.

"Imperial Ama, this slave has seen the Southern Emperor himself this time. He is on Mount Yunmeng."

The one reporting on the progress of negotiations in Dorgon's great tent was still Zuo Maotai. He had been enrolled in the Plain Green Banner, and so was qualified to call himself a slave.

"What are his terms?" Seeing Zuo Maotai hesitating, Dorgon pressed him.

"He does not trust Imperial Ama." Zuo Maotai said, "Unless the Princess is sent over first."

"What?" Dorgon scratched his scalp. "How can this be agreed to? It is not that We are unwilling to let Dong'e go over early, but we must wait until both sides have reached an agreement. What would it amount to if she went over now?"

"Imperial Ama," Fan Wencheng was also in Dorgon's great tent, "the Zhu emperor, I fear, still wants to fight!"

Dorgon sighed bitterly: "He has not been hurt badly enough. But how can we hurt him badly?"

Fan Wencheng and Zuo Maotai exchanged a glance, and neither had anything to say.

What cannot be won on the battlefield — how could it possibly be won at the negotiating table?

Zhu Cilang had lost one battle, but he could afford to lose. He could keep losing, losing on and on, until Dorgon was cleaned out — war is not gambling, and armies are not chips. The troops Zhu Cilang lost would not become Dorgon's troops.

So long as Zhu Cilang replenished faster than he lost, and Dorgon replenished slower than he lost, the outcome of the war was certain: Dorgon would lose everything.

Fan Wencheng paused, then added: "Imperial Ama, Zhu Cilang still has one trump card he has not played!"

Dorgon drew a sharp breath: "Wu Sangui!"

Fan Wencheng nodded: "Wu Sangui could turn on us at any moment. We cannot fail to guard against him!"

A flash of livid anger crossed Dorgon's sallow face. He was about to speak when from outside the tent came Suksaha's voice, full of delight: "Imperial Ama, good news! The Ming army at Qufu has abandoned the city, and the Duke for Perpetuating the Sage, Kong Yinzhi, has fled!"

(End of Chapter)