Chapter 853: Kill Wang Zhen

From the northern campaign until the Emperor formally assumed command, the army kept losing, including veteran generals like Zhu Yong, Wu Kezhong, Jing Yuan, and Xue Shou; Zhu Yong and Song Ying died outright in battle.

This made the Emperor doubt the capabilities of Great Ming's military officers, and his resentment toward the Duke of Ying, who had long opposed him, reached its peak.

Wang Zhen was also dissatisfied with the Duke of Ying.

Avoiding the crowd, Wang Zhen whispered to the Emperor: "The Duke of Ying is naturally a hero, but heroes grow old and act too conservatively. The entire army reveres him, every general regards him as the top commander; since the campaign began, officials have mostly followed his advice, opposing Your Majesty—yet which battle have they won?"

The young Emperor forgot that although the Duke of Ying had continually offered suggestions, actual command rested with Wang Zhen, and the army had never truly followed the Duke's advice.

At this moment, his mind was filled with the Duke of Ying's repeated, furious expressions.

Wang Zhen was different—he commanded the army quietly, or subtly guided the Emperor into issuing orders that aligned with his own thinking.

He made no noise, worked in silence, treated losses as if they never happened, and flattered the Emperor on victories.

As the Emperor recalled, his mind was filled with the chattering voices of the Duke of Ying, Cao Nai, and others, the daily reports of defeats, and this period of humiliation.

This humiliation stirred his shame, making him unwilling to recall it; his eyes saw only these past two days' consecutive victories.

Two days, four battles—he commanded them all himself, and won every one!

Was it that the Oirat army was simply too strong, and we truly could not match them—or were we simply incompetent, failing in command, yet blaming it all on me?

The Emperor's expression shifted unpredictably; anger rose from his heart.

He once again rejected the Duke of Ying's advice.

That night, dark clouds filled the sky; scouts rushed in, panicked: "Oirat forces spotted to the east—over twenty thousand men…"

"Report—Oirat forces spotted to the north—over ten thousand men…"

"Report—Oirat forces spotted to the west and south, Your Majesty—we are surrounded!"

The Emperor leapt to his feet, incredulous: "How? Where are Wu Kezhong and his brother? Weren't they holding the north against the enemy? What about Yang Hong? How did so many enemy troops cross Xuanfu? West… where is Jing Yuan? He guarded Yao'er Ridge—how did the enemy get through?"

The Duke of Ying asked urgently: "How many enemy troops are on the west and south?"

The scout: "The night is too dark to see clearly, but roughly ten thousand."

The Duke of Ying thought briefly, then said: "We've advanced too far north; the Oirats could have bypassed Jing Yuan by circling behind Yao'er Ridge. Also, Jing Yuan has had no word for two days—I fear…"

All hearts sank.

As for Wu Kezhong and his brother, the Duke of Ying did not ask—he knew: with so many Oirat troops closing in from the north, they were likely dead.

What troubled him was the south: the Duke of Ying's gaze darkened. "If Yang Jun was ordered to reinforce Huailai City's north, how could an Oirat force have slipped behind us?"

Until now, he had been certain he could lead the Emperor out—but now, he was no longer sure.

Wang Zhen was also alarmed, and quickly told the Emperor: "Your Majesty, we are close to Xuanfu; Xuanfu is garrisoned by imperial troops, and the Oirat force to the north numbers only ten thousand—why not break through northward?"

The Duke of Ying suddenly raised his head, finally losing patience; with a swift motion, he drew his sword, took three strides forward, and plunged it into Wang Zhen's chest with a wet thud.

Wang Zhen's eyes widened, staring in disbelief at the Duke of Ying.

The Duke of Ying's sudden strike startled the Emperor; the young Emperor went limp, stunned, staring at the Duke: "Y-you… are you rebelling, Duke of Ying?"

The Duke of Ying's face was like ice; he looked at the Emperor with anguish: "Your Majesty, will you still let this eunuch control you?"

The Duke of Ying's suppressed fury broke free: "Wu Kezhong and his brother went to block the pursuing Oirat forces; Jing Yuan engaged the western Oirat army at Yao'er Ridge to draw them away—our army was supposed to move south as planned, evading pursuit! Yet you repeatedly listened to this eunuch's provocations, driving deeper into enemy traps—and now, will you still follow his reckless advice and walk into this trap?"

The young Emperor's hands trembled; he frantically looked around—but the court officials stood motionless, lowering their eyes, avoiding his gaze.

Wang Zhen, pierced through the chest, was not dead; he frantically pulled out the sword, collapsed to the ground, and crawled on hands and feet toward the Emperor, grabbing his pant leg.

The Duke of Ying would not stop—he advanced, raised his sword in fury, and stabbed repeatedly; after a dozen thrusts, Wang Zhen was reduced to a bloody pulp.

The ministers stared, stunned—moments before, Wang Zhen had lorded over them; now he lay crushed beneath the Duke of Ying's blade.

The Emperor's limbs turned cold; in shock, he could not speak.

Only now did the imperial guards outside sense something wrong and burst in; seeing the gruesome scene, they froze, then drew their swords and surrounded the Emperor, watching the Duke of Ying warily.

The Duke of Ying did not press further; he stepped back three paces, sword in hand, meeting the Emperor's pale face across the line of guards.

"Your Majesty, do you truly still believe your command was correct?"

The Emperor's face was pale.

The Duke of Ying spoke with sorrow: "Wu Kezhong and his brother have sent no word—they are likely dead. Yao'er Ridge is perilous; the Northern Yuan cavalry is fierce—Jing Yuan is probably… What shocks me is that the Oirats have crossed Yang Hong's line and blocked us to the south—this is the second time.

The Duke of Ying's heart ached: "This means Yang Jun's prearranged reinforcement line failed. We do not know the state of Xuanfu or Yang Hong—how can we dare speak of advancing north when we know nothing? This eunuch's military advice is like flatulence, yet Your Majesty treats it as perfume—how can I not rage, how can I not grieve!"

"Now we are surrounded on all sides—can you not see that their retreat these past two days was a trap to lure us deeper?"

The Emperor snapped back: "Duke of Ying, are you rebelling because of this?"

"I am not rebelling," the Duke of Ying said calmly, stepping back two more paces. "I am teaching Your Majesty: each craft has its master. Governing, listen to civil officials; fighting, listen to military officers! As Emperor, you need not master everything—only know how to use talent."

The Emperor seemed to realize the Duke of Ying had no intention of rebellion; he immediately pointed at him in fury: "You killed my Mr. Wang Zhen before my eyes—is that not rebellion?"

The Duke of Ying knelt on one knee, sword propped beside him, and said with solemn grief: "Your Majesty, I will serve you and Great Ming with my life! But before that, I must get you out of here!"

The silent civil and military officials all knelt down, their gazes heavy with sorrow as they looked at the Emperor: "Your Majesty, Wang Zhen's death is not worth mourning—please, preserve yourself!" (End of chapter)