Chapter 2: Appointing Wu Xiang as Commander of the Capital Camps

"What a bunch of worthless reports—couldn't there be at least one piece of good news?"

After reading for an entire morning, even without any particular worry for state affairs, the Chongzhen Emperor had grown furious. He swept the memorials off the imperial desk with one motion and refused to look at another one.

This was an utterly ordinary gesture, but it sent several eunuchs and palace maids outside the door rushing in, kneeling and crying out—anyone watching would have thought the Chongzhen Emperor was about to punish them.

"What are you people doing?"

These memorials, plainly put, were reports of this place being attacked by the roving bandits, that place surrendering to Li Zicheng at the first rumor, and others about officers and soldiers in some region, seeing the court on its last legs, rioting over pay and looting while the fire burned—that sort of thing.

In any case, the Chongzhen Emperor had read for a whole morning and found not a single thing worth rejoicing over. No wonder the historical Chongzhen had worried his youthful hair white, grieving in vain!

Back in the modern era, the reason he'd been interested in the Ming dynasty was that it was the last great unified dynasty established by the Han people—no consort clans like the Han, no military governors like the Tang, no annual tribute like the Song. The Son of Heaven guarded the nation's gates; the sovereign died for the altars of state.

Speaking of it, what spine that was!

But only when one truly sat in Chongzhen's seat could one appreciate just how irredeemable things had become. The once-mighty Ming, which had campaigned against the Mongols five times, sailed the western seas seven times, and drawn ten thousand nations to its court, now stood at sunset, so straitened and desperate.

Pitiful! Lamentable!

The historical Chongzhen Emperor could die for the altars of state, but to be honest, this transmigrated one hadn't lived his fill yet and had no intention of being that sacrificial lamb. Even for the sake of his own life, he ought to consider a way out.

Suddenly, Li Chun, who had been waiting outside the door, hurried in with quick little steps and knelt with practiced ease, saying:

"Reporting to Your Majesty, the old General Wu has arrived."

Hearing this, Chongzhen only then remembered the matter.

Wu Xiang, a military jinshi from the Tianqi era, had once held the key post of Liaodong Regional Commander and was the father of Wu Sangui, the notorious traitor of the late Ming. Over the years, though his defeats had outnumbered his victories, he could at least be said to have long weathered the battlefield.

Originally, the historical Chongzhen had intended to consult him about transferring Wu Sangui to the capital, but this one was clearly different.

The Chongzhen Emperor's mind was a tangled mess, and he had no interest in it at all—he simply wanted to send Wu Xiang back.

But on second thought, he was after all an emperor now; whatever he said counted as an imperial edict. The man had come rushing at the summons, and to push him away again wouldn't be right. He'd just go through the motions.

With that in mind, the Chongzhen Emperor stretched lazily and said offhandedly:

"Have him wait for me at Wuying Hall—ahem—wait for Us."

Li Chun's face was full of delight. He didn't notice the Chongzhen Emperor's utter discomfort, acknowledged the order with a "yes," and ran off to relay the message.

Wuying Hall had always been the place where the emperor received his ministers. At this moment, a middle-aged man of large build, dressed in the everyday robes of a military officer, stood at attention there after receiving the decree from the palace eunuch, as if waiting for someone.

Suddenly, Li Chun changed his expression, stepped outside the door, coughed a few times, and said in a low voice:

"His Majesty is coming."

Wu Xiang gave a start. Hearing the footsteps draw near, he didn't hesitate and immediately prostrated himself, crying out:

"Long live Your Majesty, ten thousand years, ten thousand times ten thousand years!"

In both his past life and this one, the Chongzhen Emperor was receiving such a grand salute for the first time. Though he'd prepared himself mentally in advance, he still instinctively bent down to help Wu Xiang up.

To be honest, the moment his hand touched Wu Xiang's body, the Chongzhen Emperor regretted it.

This gave Wu Xiang quite a fright. He thought to himself, had he committed some offense? Why was the emperor being so good to him—could it be he meant to kill him?

Wu Xiang's suspicion was understandable, because everyone the Chongzhen Emperor had personally helped up in the past was now dead.

"Your servant is terrified, your servant is guilty..."

But on careful reflection, Wu Xiang couldn't think of what he'd done wrong, so he just kept repeating that he was guilty.

Chongzhen had no idea what Wu Xiang was thinking. He merely shook his head, strode grandly over to sit behind the imperial desk, picked up a memorial and flipped through it, saying without looking up:

"My minister is a man of merit—what guilt could you have?"

Before coming, Wu Xiang had heard people say that this Chongzhen Emperor, though young, was given to unpredictable moods, and that summoning him now was most likely about transferring troops into the capital to defend the throne.

In fact, Wu Xiang had already formed a plan and prepared a set of arguments.

Wu Xiang weighed his words carefully, but in the end, he was just a veteran soldier of some seniority—he couldn't detect any hidden meaning in the Chongzhen Emperor's words, so he timidly raised his head for a glance.

But he suddenly remembered that today's Chongzhen seemed different from the rumors. The footsteps approaching earlier hadn't sounded weak or unsteady, and his gaze wasn't as dull as those court officials had described.

Wu Xiang came from a military jinshi background. Though he had no great military achievements to speak of now, he had nonetheless spent years on the Liaodong battlefields and sat in the high seat of Regional Commander, so naturally he could perceive that the young emperor walked with great steadiness, his eyes darting about—nothing like a sickly weakling.

After confirming repeatedly that Chongzhen had no intention of calling him to account, Wu Xiang relaxed somewhat, but then immediately became overwhelmed by flattered surprise.

At this point, Chongzhen set down the memorial. Having no patience for beating around the bush, he spoke directly:

"The situation is urgent, so I will speak plainly with my minister. The bandits closing in on the capital is only a matter of time. The priority is to summon troops from all directions to defend the throne. If Wu Sangui comes to defend the capital, how much military pay will he need?"

Just as the Chongzhen Emperor had expected, Wu Xiang's face immediately showed difficulty upon hearing this. After a long pause, he finally responded:

"This... the ancestral lands—not an inch can be abandoned! Your Majesty should put the altars of state first..."

The same old tune. The Chongzhen Emperor's face turned cold before he could finish, and turning his back, he said:

"I merely want your son Wu Sangui to come to the capital to defend the throne. This concerns the people and the altars, concerns all the world's millions—but Wu Xiang, at a time like this, you still make excuses!?"

"Your Wu clan has received the great grace of the Ming for generations—is this how you repay Us!?"

This sudden fury from Chongzhen caught Wu Xiang completely off guard. He didn't know how to answer, and could only thud to his knees, head bowed, not daring to breathe, trembling with terror.

Seeing this, the old bastard was about to pull that trick of playing dead in silence. The Chongzhen Emperor gave a cold snort and said flatly:

"My decision is made. Transfer Shanhai Pass Regional Commander Wu Sangui to the capital to defend the throne!"

Hearing this, Wu Xiang finally raised his head and wailed:

"Your Majesty, you can't! Absolutely you can't!"

"Beyond the pass there are still hundreds of thousands of Liaodong commoners! And coming to defend the capital is no small matter—the military pay needed is far more than a million! Your Majesty~!"

Watching Wu Xiang's frantic crying and shouting, he was much the same as the ministers in the Chongzhen Emperor's memory—all of them finding excuses to shirk their duty.

But the Chongzhen Emperor now was no longer the one of before. He would not be manipulated by them again. Nothing could stop his plan to save his own skin.

Chongzhen had long anticipated Wu Xiang's words. Unlike the historical Chongzhen, he didn't fly into a rage. He merely crouched down quietly, his gaze burning as he stared at the old general before him.

Wu Xiang waited a while without hearing any reaction from the emperor, and only then looked up in confusion—but the moment he did, he nearly jumped out of his skin. The Chongzhen Emperor was crouching right before him, staring at him from arm's length away.

Seeing the terror in Wu Xiang's eyes, the Chongzhen Emperor frowned and asked:

"Wu Xiang, I ask you only one thing: this decree—do you accept it, or not!?"

Hearing this, Wu Xiang's heart sank with a thud. He thought to himself, what's gotten into the emperor today? Never before had he heard of the emperor possessing such resolve. Could those ministers be deceiving me?

If he accepted, he would be opposing the entire court, civil and military alike, and whether or not the capital could ultimately be held, he alone would bear the infamy of abandoning territory and retreating through the pass.

But if he refused, he might well lose his life on the spot—and with his life gone, what point was there in discussing reputation or anything else?

The Chongzhen Emperor seemed to have grown somewhat impatient. He gave a cold laugh, rose and turned his back once more, tossing the memorial in his hand to the ground as he said icily:

"Wu Xiang, it seems you hold me in not the slightest regard—you dare to defy my decree right before my face!"

Though Wu Xiang had not been on the battlefield for some time, he could still hear the murderous intent that had suddenly surfaced in the Chongzhen Emperor's words. He no longer dared to hesitate, thinking to himself that nothing mattered more than keeping his own head, and hastily kowtowed as he said:

"In answer to Your Majesty—I, I accept the decree!"

Wu Xiang had not expected to say such words himself; he was already regretting them before he had even finished speaking. Just as he was about to add something to make excuses, he saw the Chongzhen Emperor's face break into a delighted smile as he said:

"My minister, rise quickly!"

Wu Xiang had heard people say that the Chongzhen Emperor changed his face very quickly, but he had not imagined it could be this fast—a moment ago his expression had been murderous, and now he gave one the feeling of a spring breeze.

Just as this thought crossed his mind, he heard the Chongzhen Emperor call out toward the door:

"Convey my decree: the old general Wu Xiang's ambition is undiminished from his younger days. He is hereby appointed to command the Capital Camps, to take office immediately. Today I shall go with my minister to inspect the Capital Camps, to behold the martial bearing of our Great Ming officers and men!"

Hearing the first half, Wu Xiang had been both startled and distressed, but after hearing it all, only shock remained.

Indeed, the things that startled Wu Xiang today had come one after another. He felt that the Chongzhen Emperor was not merely as headstrong as others said—he was even more so, changing his face as swiftly as a storyteller.

For some unknown reason, Wu Xiang instead felt that the Chongzhen Emperor before him was truly different from the man of rumor.

"Your Majesty could go in a few days' time—according to protocol..."

Chongzhen waved his hand and said with a chuckle:

"The Capital Camps are the imperial guard of our Great Ming capital, always strong and elite. My minister, you may return first to don your armor and await me. I must also inform the Empress."

The Chongzhen Emperor gave Wu Xiang no room or opportunity to reply at all. Having finished speaking, he turned and walked out of Wuying Hall on his own, leaving behind a dumbfounded Wu Xiang.

This audience with the sovereign today had not gone as he had anticipated—he had prepared a bellyful of arguments, yet in the end had barely used a few sentences of them.

Most importantly, Wu Xiang, who had originally intended to stay out of worldly affairs, had this time carelessly picked up a hot potato—a thoroughly stifling situation.