Chapter 2645: The Capital (Part 1)

Luo Heying found himself thinking of Taoist Wood Stone, who had once laid out a grand Feng Shui formation in Guangzhou, scheming to ruin the Kun Thieves' royal qi. Yet in the end, the Kun Thieves had still broken through. And now this "New Taoism" was spreading everywhere... Perhaps they had truly learned some overseas arts of Qi Men Dun Jia—the Strange Gates Escaping Armor techniques...

With these thoughts in mind, he pricked up his ears and listened carefully, eager to hear what insights this speaker might offer. But to his disappointment, the man proved to be nothing more than a layman, rambling on without any real substance. After just a few sentences, Luo Heying recognized the words for what they were—Wei Yan Song Ting, frightening words meant to scare people. The man had no real knowledge to offer. Luo Heying felt a twinge of disappointment.

That evening, he brought up the matter as a joke while speaking with Gou Xunli. To his surprise, the old fox narrowed his eyes and began stroking his sparse rat-like whiskers.

"True or false, it matters not," the Walrus Monk said in a low voice. "Having something to talk about is enough..."

"What does Master mean?"

"When the Kun Thieves arrived, the local populace remained calm and untroubled. The common folk bear them no ill will—quite a few have even benefited from their presence. So if we simply invoke Heaven's decree to move against the Kun Thieves, it won't work."

"Naturally," Luo Heying nodded. "Even if we proceed, the people would go through the motions without putting in real effort."

"Therefore, we need some evil deed that will fill the people with righteous indignation."

"An evil deed?" Luo Heying thought for a moment. The locals had never been massacred by the Kun Thieves. Speaking of evil deeds, he truly couldn't think of any. Though some of their policies had caused dissatisfaction among the common people, it hadn't reached the point where they would take up arms in rebellion.

"If there are none, then we shall help the Kun Thieves along." Gou Xunli had already formulated his plan. He lowered his voice immediately. "Didn't they level the Charity Cemetery land when building their camp?"

"That's right. But they paid the landowners. Though the graves were leveled, those with owners received money to relocate the remains. Even the unclaimed bones were collected properly..." Luo Heying trailed off as sudden understanding dawned. "You mean...?"

"Grave robbing and tomb desecration are among the Ten Unpardonable Evils. And such matters touch the hearts of common folk and gentry alike. So, we need only do this..."

After hearing the plan, Luo Heying drew in a sharp breath of cold air. "Isn't this far too lacking in virtue? If the Li Family finds out, we're finished."

"Naturally, it must be done with the utmost secrecy," Gou Xunli sneered. "Rest easy. Others will handle this task. You need only grasp the timing."

Luo Heying couldn't help but ask, "The timing, the timing—when exactly will this timing arrive?"

At these words, Gou Xunli raised his eyes to the sky. After a long while, he finally sighed. "You ask me, but I don't know either! I've been waiting for ten years already!"

Luo Heying was about to curse, but Gou Xunli continued: "Don't be anxious. It's only a matter of these next few months. Rest assured. Taoist Wood Stone said that as long as a suitable opportunity arises, we can make our move!"

"If we're speaking of suitable opportunities," Luo Heying said, "now is the time."

First, the Australians were currently building roads and constructing stockades, digging and excavating everywhere. This made framing them for grave robbing perfectly convenient. Second, the Puppet Troupe that had come to perform at Li Family Enclosure was currently staying at Xiaoyao Market.

Attacking the stockade might not succeed. But attacking the troupe lodging at the Market Hotel was as simple as reaching out one's hand.

"This Puppet Troupe was established entirely by the Kun Thieves. If we seize this chance to eliminate them, the Kun Thieves will be enraged."

Gou Xunli nodded silently. He thought to himself that this man truly possessed some strategic sense—not merely a reckless warrior.

In truth, Taoist Wood Stone had already revealed the bottom line to him. The Court had decided to send forces south to punish the Kun Thieves—it was already settled. Though no official decree had been issued, both the Cabinet and the Emperor had made their determination. Within the next two or three months, there would certainly be action.

But exactly when this action would come—we wait like parched land longing for sweet rain!

Capital

Chongzhen Ninth Year, Twelfth Month, First Day (December 27, 1636)

The hour was already approaching Xu Hour, between seven and nine in the evening. The vast city of Beijing had fallen into deep silence. In July, the Eastern Barbarians—the Dong Lu—had invaded, their blades conquering Changping, Liangxiang, and Shunyi in succession, pointing directly at the Capital itself. For a month, alarms had sounded multiple times. Though the Eastern Barbarians had since retreated, many of the refugees generated by this invasion remained detained within the city. Public order was unsettled, and the government strictly enforced the Night Ban. The night markets and pleasure quarters both inside and outside the city had grown quiet and still. Only the distant sound of night watchmen striking their clappers could be vaguely heard. Inside and outside the city walls, all lay in darkness—especially gloomy and desolate.

Though it was already the Twelfth Month—La Yue—there was no festive atmosphere of the approaching New Year within the city. Times were hard, and the common people struggled merely to survive.

The brothels and great households still held their banquets with singing and dancing, as was customary. But all doors and courtyards remained covered, curtains hung low. Not a sliver of light escaped from the crimson candles burning high or the Australian oil lamps. The songs of entertainers and musicians were hushed, curling softly at the ears of hosts and guests. Even they rarely spoke loudly, conversing only in whispers.

These past few years, the war had gone poorly. The nation's momentum declined daily. The Emperor's temper worsened with each passing day. The eunuchs and Depot Guards—the spy agency—who had been rejected a few years prior, gradually regained their prestige once more. Though the faces had changed, their methods retained the familiar flavor of old times. Officials and wealthy men now pursued their pleasures more discreetly, lest word be deliberately carried to the Emperor's ears, disturbing his state of mind and drawing down his thunderous wrath.

The lanterns and candles on the Imperial City Gate swayed in the wind, their light falling upon the pitted, uneven stone slabs of the road and the armor of the Big Han Generals standing guard, casting a faint gleam. For the master of this realm, Chongzhen's Ninth Year had been neither too bad nor particularly good. Of course, for the Emperor, bad news had become the norm. As long as nothing worse occurred, it counted as supremely great fortune.

Compared to the previous year, when in the First Month the Thirteen Families of Roving Bandits had conquered Fengyang and set fire to the Great Ming's Ancestral Tombs, and in the Second Month the Kun Thieves had launched their surprise attack on Guangdong, taking Guangzhou and Zhaoqing in succession before claiming both Guangs—compared to all that, the situation in Chongzhen's Ninth Year was not so terrible. The best news was that the Roving Bandits, who had once burned like a prairie fire, had lost their former momentum under suppression by the official forces commanded by Lu Xiangsheng, Hong Chengchou, and others. Especially in July of this year, when the ringleader Gao Yingxiang had been captured and escorted to the Capital for execution—for a Court that had been burning at both ends, this was nothing short of a shot of medicine to the heart.

Yet looking at the broader situation, the Great Ming's circumstances had not truly improved. Gao Yingxiang's capture meant only that the strongest branch of the Roving Bandits had suffered a major setback. On the whole, bandit activities remained extremely frequent. Li Zicheng and his units operated in Shaanxi, Ningxia, and Gansu. Zhang Xianzhong, the Five Battalions of Ge Zuo, Luo Rucai, Liu Guoneng, Li Wanqing, and others galloped across the vast territories of Henan, Huguang, and Anhui. As for the smaller-scale Roving Bandits, Local Bandits, Mountain Bandits, and Sea Bandits—they rose and fell like sparks scattering everywhere. The Court could not attend to one crisis without losing sight of another, responding and engaging without a moment's rest, falling into a passive state at every turn.

Beyond Shanhai Pass, the Eastern Barbarians had proclaimed their own emperor this year, naming themselves Manchu and formally establishing a rival court against the Great Ming. If this were merely an empty name, then in July, Ajige leading the Eight Banners Army through the pass to raid and plunder had once again driven a fierce blade into the already devastated lands of the North.

Fortunately, the Kun Thieves, who had shaken both court and countryside by conquering the Two Guangs the previous year, had halted their advance. Throughout the entirety of Chongzhen's Ninth Year, they made no major movements. It seemed they had grown satisfied with occupying two provinces.

Whatever the Kun Thieves' true intentions might be, as long as they caused no trouble, it was already good news for the young Emperor.

Now it was the Twelfth Month. Though the year had been anxious and withering, the Palace still required its customary display of ceremony. The Inner Officials of the Palace had prepared Gourd Scene patches and Python Robes for the New Year attire. Young eunuchs and palace maids swept the palace rooms while craftsmen repaired buildings and utensils. Peach Talisman boards, General Charcoal, and Door Gods were readied for New Year use. Paintings of the Fortune God, the Ghost Judge, Zhong Kui, and others were hung indoors. Gold and Silver Eight Treasures, Tibetan prayer wheels, and dragons woven from yellow money were hung on beds. Sesame stalks were inserted into eaves and pillars, and cypress branches were burned in courtyards... All manner of necessary items were continuously prepared and sent into the Palace by the Twenty-Four Yamens. The palace halls, usually cold and desolate, heavy with lifeless air, now carried at least some trace of vitality.

The First Watch clapper had already sounded. In Qianqing Palace, the Emperor finally set down the vermilion brush in his hand, temporarily stepping away from the mountain of memorials.

Though the memorials never brought him any happiness—indeed, they were often the source of endless vexation—he was reluctant to leave them. He had a feeling that if he failed to open and review these memorials, they would transform into raging flames that would consume the Great Ming's rivers and mountains entirely.

Sometimes he felt that even a death row prisoner had it better than he. A condemned man merely awaited death. But he—he was like a drowning man, fighting desperately for his life, yet unable to grasp even a single straw...

"Your Majesty..." An Imperial Front Eunuch, seeing him rise, hurried to seize the opportunity to report. Today, dinner had originally been planned at Noble Consort Tian's quarters.

Dinner was usually served at the second quarter of Shen Hour, around half past three in the afternoon. Now it was already past the first quarter of Xu Hour—after a quarter past seven in the evening. Noble Consort Tian had long since sent several waves of eunuchs to inquire outside Qianqing Palace when the Emperor might finish reviewing his memorials. But none of the Imperial Front Eunuchs had dared to remind him.

"Ah, Zhen nearly forgot." Chongzhen pressed his palm to his forehead. His skin felt ice-cold. The palace hall was vast and tall; even reviewing memorials in the Warm Pavilion during winter, after enough time had passed, hands and feet grew equally cold.

The Manager Eunuch of Qianqing Palace immediately signaled, and a eunuch promptly brought freshly prepared tribute tea. In winter, having hot tea available at any moment was extremely difficult. The only method was to keep a charcoal stove burning constantly under the corridor, water simmering at all times. But ever since Lingao had sent thermos bottles as tribute, the charcoal expenditure remained the same—only now the silver went into the pocket of the Qianqing Palace Manager Eunuch instead.

"This is autumn tea." The cup was perfectly warm, the fragrance overflowing. For the exhausted Emperor, it was most welcome. Especially pleasing was the cup before him—thin as an eggshell, translucent like carved white jade, inlaid with a Hundred Flowers pattern in enamel color set with silver wire. Looking upon it lifted his spirits and improved his mood considerably. "Where did this tribute come from?"

"Replying to Your Majesty, it is Wuyi Mountain tea from Fujian," the Manager Eunuch replied. "An offering from Zheng Sen, the Assistant Commander of the Zhongzuo Suo."

The name Zheng Sen stirred a small ripple in his mind. He seemed to faintly recall the former Fujian Governor Zou Weilian mentioning this name. But he could not quite place it.

Seeing the doubtful expression on his face, the eunuch quickly reminded him in a low voice: "He is the son of the late Dudu Tongzhi, Zheng Zhilong. He has inherited his father's hereditary post..."

(End of Chapter)