xymnovel Chapter 5 Anne-New
Chapter 5 Anne-New
On the ninth day of the tenth month of the fifteenth year of Chongzhen's reign, at the beginning of the Mao hour (5-7 AM).
The fields outside Changping City were shrouded in a layer of gray-white morning mist.
The fog wasn't thick, but it was enough to blur the view a hundred paces away. Frost crystals covered the withered grass blades, and when horses trod on them, they made a soft, teeth-grinding sound.
Zhou Yuji stood at the very front of the army formation.
He wasn't wearing a helmet, letting the cold autumn morning wind brush against his rough cheeks like sandpaper.
The repair marks on his shoulder armor from the previous night gleamed coldly in the dim light. He was thirty-eight years old, had served in the military for twenty years, and every line on his face looked as if it had been carved by a knife.
Behind him, two thousand Shanxi soldiers stood in a thick square formation.
Most of these soldiers were newly recruited after the ninth year of the Chongzhen Emperor's reign, but they had followed Zhou Yuji in suppressing bandits in Shanxi and had seen bloodshed.
At this moment, they gripped their spears and muskets, gazing at the rising dust three miles away. Their eyes held tension, but even more so, the fierce determination that had been forged in battle alongside their commander.
The flag was half-furled in the breeze, with a faded "Zhou" character embroidered on it.
It was very quiet.
Apart from the occasional snorting of the horses and the soft rustling of their armor plates, the two thousand people were almost silent.
Everyone stared at the edge of the fog—where smoke and dust were slowly rising.
Instead of neat columns of smoke, there were scattered, patches of yellowish-brown dust rising up, like the dust kicked up by a pack of hungry wolves running across the wilderness.
The sound of horses' hooves finally came.
Like muffled thunder, it started out distant, gradually became clearer, and finally turned into a continuous, rolling rumble that made the frozen ground beneath our feet tremble slightly.
Zhou Yuji squinted.
He saw the flag.
White flag with black tiger design – the symbol of Xuanfu Town. Red sun flag – Datong. Blue wolf flag – Jizhou Town.
They were the fiercest and most troublesome troops in the Nine Border Regions. They were also the troops that had been in arrears with their pay for the longest time, harbored the deepest resentment, and were the most easily instigated.
"General." The deputy general rode forward, his voice low and tense, "The scouts report that the total force is about three thousand, all light cavalry. The leader is indeed Ma Ke, the deputy general of Xuanfu, a confidant of Wang Pu."
Zhou Yuji nodded without saying anything.
He was calculating in his mind.
Our two thousand men had three hundred muskets, five hundred crossbows, and the rest were armed with spears, swords, and shields. In a head-on confrontation, we couldn't stop the charge of three thousand light cavalry from the border.
But His Majesty's order to him was not to "stop him".
It means "no refunds allowed".
It was to "let Marco see that the border troops of the Ming Dynasty were not the private army of Wang Pu's family."
"Form ranks—"
Zhou Yuji took a deep breath and gave the order in a deep voice.
The command flag was waved.
The square formation slowly moved forward fifty paces, stabilizing itself in the center of the official road. Musketeers led the way, followed by archers and crossbowmen, with spearmen bringing up the rear. The formation wasn't particularly sophisticated, but it was solid, like an iron nail driven firmly into place.
The smoke and dust on the other side were getting closer and closer.
The figures are now clearly visible.
There was no orderly formation; they were scattered like a pack of wolves hunting for food, but the overwhelming killing intent was real—they were soldiers who had actually chopped off heads.
Three hundred steps.
Two hundred steps.
One hundred and fifty steps.
Zhou Yuji gripped the reins tightly.
At that very moment—
A lone rider suddenly charged out from the opposing army's formation!
The man was in his forties, with a face full of scars, wearing a shiny mountain-patterned armor, carrying a ten-foot-long horse spear. He charged straight into the open space between the two armies, reined in his horse, and pointed the spear tip diagonally at the ground.
"Brothers on the other side!"
A rough voice echoed across the open field:
"I am Ma Ke, the deputy general of Xuanfu! I have been ordered by the Ministry of War to enter the capital to defend the emperor and purge the court of corrupt officials!"
"Those who know what's good for them, get out of the way! Swords and spears have no eyes; don't hurt your own brothers!"
Zhou Yuji kicked his horse's belly and went into battle alone.
He didn't bring any personal guards or raise any flags; he was alone with just one horse, and the goose-feather saber at his waist wasn't even drawn.
Thousands of eyes from both armies were fixed on him.
He walked to within thirty paces of Marco and reined in his horse.
Between the two, withered grass lay flattened, and frost crystals shattered on the ground.
"Deputy General Ma," Zhou Yuji spoke, his voice not loud, but in the quiet of the morning, every word was clear, "You said you were acting on a secret order from the Ministry of War—where is the secret order? Where is the tiger tally? Where is His Majesty's edict?"
Marco's face darkened: "Zhou Yuji! You're just a junior officer, what right do you have to check my orders?!"
"Without authorization, it is tantamount to mobilizing troops without permission." Zhou Yuji said slowly and deliberately, "According to the Great Ming Code, anyone who moves border troops without authorization shall be beheaded. Anyone who is coerced into doing so shall be exiled to the border."
A slight commotion arose from the border troops behind Marco.
"Stop trying to intimidate us with the law!" Marco raised his voice, pointing his spear towards the capital. "In the capital, the Embroidered Uniform Guard is framing loyal officials, and His Majesty is being misled by scoundrels! We border troops have been owed wages for half a year, we can't even fill our stomachs, and we still have to guard the Great Wall against the Jurchens!"
"With treacherous officials in power now, if we don't purge the emperor's inner circle, are we just going to wait until the Ming Dynasty falls and become slaves to the Jurchens?!"
That's a harsh statement.
It directly hit the border troops' most painful spot—unpaid wages.
The commotion within the ranks grew even greater. Some whispered among themselves, while others gripped their sword hilts tighter.
Zhou Yuji looked at Ma Ke and suddenly smiled.
That smile was cold, like frost on a knife's edge.
"Marco".
He said.
"In the winter of the eleventh year of Chongzhen's reign, the Jurchen invaded at Yehuling in Xuanfu."
Marco's expression changed drastically.
Zhou Yuji's voice wasn't loud, but it was like a heavy hammer, each word striking the cold morning air:
"You led three thousand cavalry to guard the valley entrance. According to military orders, you were supposed to hold off the Jurchens for half a day until the main force could encircle them. But instead, you didn't fire a single arrow and led your army to retreat thirty miles south."
"This led to the Jurchens breaking through the siege and the massacre of three villages in Xuanfu, resulting in the deaths of 1,743 people."
"Have you forgotten about this?"
Marco's hands, gripping the spear, veins bulging, screamed: "You... what nonsense are you spouting!"
Zhou Yuji ignored him completely, took out a roll of paper from his pocket, and unfolded it.
The paper is yellowed and the ink is old, but the bright red official seal is still clearly visible.
"Afterwards, you falsely reported your military achievements, claiming that you repelled the Jurchens and beheaded two hundred."
He held up the paper, making it visible to the Shanxi soldiers behind him and to the opposing border troops:
"The Ministry of War's reward records are still there; you received a reward of three thousand taels of silver—but where did those two hundred heads from Wild Fox Ridge come from? Do I need to explain this to the brothers of the three armies?"
Dead silence.
The border troops stood in deathly silence.
These veteran border soldiers hated two things the most: unpaid wages and false credit. The former meant going hungry, and the latter meant using the blood of their brothers to stain their own hats.
Behind Marco, several officers began whispering rapidly in the ranks.
"That...that's slander!" Marco roared, his voice trembling. "Zhou Yuji! You've been framed by a treacherous official..."
Spring of the twelfth year of Chongzhen's reign.
Zhou Yuji interrupted him and continued reading, his voice as steady as if he were pronouncing a verdict:
"You embezzled 20,000 taels of silver from the Xuanfu Left Guard's pay, exchanged old rice for new grain, and profited 8,000 taels by reselling the grain. When the Left Guard soldiers mutinied, you killed 37 people during the suppression—"
He looked up at the silent border troops in the opposite formation:
"Should any of the veterans from Xuanfu still remember this?"
Suppressed murmurs emanated from within the ranks.
Some people lowered their heads, while others turned their faces away.
"Enough!" Marco pointed the spear at Zhou Yuji, but his hand was trembling.
"not enough."
Zhou Yuji stared at him, then took out a second document from his pocket:
"In the autumn of the thirteenth year of Chongzhen's reign, you secretly sent your servants out of the pass to trade fifty horses with the Mongol Tatar tribe using salt, iron, and tea bricks. Among them were twenty bows and fifty suits of armor—this is the crime of treason."
"That Hu Baihu under your command has already confessed everything in the Jinyiwei prison."
Marco's face went from red to white, then from white to green.
The commotion behind him turned into uproar.
Several officers turned sharply to Marco, their eyes filled with surprise and anger. The border troops could tolerate deductions, and even false credit, but collusion with the enemy—that was the bottom line.
"Springtime in the fourteenth year of Chongzhen's reign."
Zhou Yuji's voice grew even colder:
"Under the pretext of clearing the village, you forcibly seized more than 700 mu of farmland belonging to military households in Xuanfu Town and resold it to merchants in Zhangjiakou."
This matter led to the deaths of three people—you should remember that, shouldn't you?
Marco began to tremble all over.
It wasn't anger, it was fear.
Some of these things he thought he had kept secret, and others he thought no one had mentioned for many years. But now, one by one, they were all brought up in front of thousands of soldiers from both armies.
"These things..." his voice was dry, "How did you know..."
"I not only know."
Zhou Yuji took out the last item from his pocket—a palm-sized bronze plaque engraved with intricate patterns and a prominent character "Chen" in the center.
The waist tag used for entering and leaving Chen Yan's residence was found by the Imperial Guards last night during a search of Chen Yan's study, along with a letter to Ma Ke.
He held the waist badge high:
"I also know that your trip to the capital with your troops this time is not to support the emperor at all."
"Someone offered you 50,000 taels of silver to force His Majesty to release the prisoners—"
He paused, then his voice suddenly rose:
"Release that Grand Secretary Chen Yan, who's already been imprisoned!"
"The silver you accepted was sent by Chen Yan through Shanxi merchants! Chen Yan wants you to save himself!"
boom--!
The border troops' formation was completely thrown into chaos.
Soldiers may not understand court intrigue, but they understand money and betrayal.
If Marco is truly working for money, then what are these people? Pawns sent to their deaths? Stepping stones used to exchange their lives for others' wealth?
"Brothers, don't believe him!" Marco roared back, his voice cracking. "It's a forgery! It's a divisive tactic by the Beijing Garrison! I, Marco, swear to God..."
"Do you swear to God?"
A voice suddenly rang out from the border troops' ranks.
Everyone turned their heads.
From the ranks of Xuanfu Town, a single rider suddenly charged out!
The man was in his early thirties, with a scar running from his brow bone to his chin, and bloodshot eyes. He rushed to the front lines, drew his sword, and pointed it at Marco, his voice hoarse with excitement:
"Marco! What the hell does your swearing do?!"
"Those two hundred heads at Wild Fox Ridge were the corpses of refugees that our night patrol dug up from a mass grave! You made us pickle the heads with lime to pretend they were from the Jurchens!"
"Of the three thousand taels of reward money afterward, you gave me fifty taels—I still keep those fifty taels hidden in the sole of my shoe, I haven't dared to spend them! Because that was the blood money of the brothers!"
Ma Keke's eyes widened in fury: "Liu Sanba! You're asking for it!"
He spurred his horse forward and thrust his spear straight at the enemy!
Liu Sanba didn't dodge. He suddenly turned to the side, his blade slicing upwards along the shaft of the spear—sparks flew as metal clashed!
Marco was caught off guard, had two fingers severed, and fell off his horse with a scream.
Liu Sanba jumped off his horse, stomped on Ma Ke's chest, pressed the tip of his knife against his throat, and roared at the border troops:
"Brothers of Xuanfu! Are you still going to follow this bastard to your deaths?!"
Dead silence.
A long, deathly silence.
The wind swept across the fields, and the withered grass lay flat.
Then--
"Clang."
A knife was thrown on the ground.
Then came the second game, and the third game.
In the Xuanfu formation, an old soldier knelt down, his hands on the ground: "I...I won't fight anymore."
Like a toppled domino effect.
The cavalry dismounted, the infantry laid down their weapons, and a dark mass of them knelt down.
Of the three thousand border troops, only five hundred of Ma Ke's personal guards remained standing in the blink of an eye. They were teetering on the brink of collapse, looking at each other, their weapons growing heavier and heavier.
Zhou Yuji slowly exhaled.
He rode forward and walked up to Liu Sanba.
"Commander Liu," he said, "I will truthfully report today's achievement to His Majesty."
Liu Sanba sheathed his sword, clasped his hands in a fist salute, his eyes red-rimmed: "This humble general dares not claim credit! I only beg... I only beg the imperial court to truly reimburse the wages, so that the families of those brothers who starved to death in Xuanfu... may have a way to survive."
Zhou Yuji took out a silver note from his pocket and handed it over.
Liu Sanba took it and froze.
Face value: 50,000 taels.
"This is what His Majesty instructed me to bring," Zhou Yuji said. "Xuanfu Town has been in arrears with its pay the longest, so we'll make up for one month's worth first. The rest will be credited to the accounts within half a month after the number of people is verified."
Liu Sanba's hands began to tremble.
The soldiers of Xuanfu Town all saw him from behind.
I don't know who cried out first, but then there was a suppressed chorus of howls, like wolves.
These men, who had spent over a decade risking their lives on the frontier, knelt on the ground, kowtowing towards the direction of the capital.
He bumped his forehead until it bled.
Zhou Yuji turned his face away, unable to bear to look.
He turned to Ma Ke, who was still lying on the ground, being trampled by Liu Sanba:
"Tie him up."
"The other officers of the rank of brigadier general and above shall accompany me to the capital to report on my duties."
"The soldiers returned to their respective towns, and their pay was delivered to the military camp by a messenger."
The order was passed down without objection.
Liu Sanba suddenly remembered something and lowered his voice:
"General, this humble servant... has another message."
"explain."
"In Liaodong, Wu Sangui's troops in Ningyuan have been making unusual moves recently." Liu Sanba's voice was even lower. "A fellow townsman of mine in Liaodong wrote a secret letter the day before yesterday saying that Wu Sangui is frequently summoning his generals for meetings, and there seems to be spies from the Later Jin in the Guan-Ning army."
Zhou Yuji's eyes sharpened.
"Understood." He nodded. "This matter will be reported to His Majesty in secret."
Liu Sanba clasped his hands in a fist salute, turned around, and roared at the still kneeling Xuanfu soldiers:
"Form ranks! Return to camp! Wait for pay!"
Cheers erupted, mingling with cries, echoing across the field.
Looking at the long-lost smiles mixed with tears on the faces of the border soldiers, Zhou Yuji felt a heavy weight in his heart.
Marco solved it.
But Liu Sanba's words were like a thorn, piercing his heart.
Liaodong.
Wu Sangui.
That's the real deadly knife.
Early noon, in the West Warm Pavilion of Qianqing Palace.
When Li Ce received Zhou Yuji's secret report, he was reviewing the interrogation records that Li Ruolian had just sent.
"Ma Ke has been captured, three thousand border troops have surrendered, and Liu Sanba has turned against us." Wang Chengen read the report, his voice trembling. "Your Majesty... the crisis in Changping is over."
Li Ce remained silent.
He took the secret report, read it carefully, and focused on the last few lines:
"...Liu Sanba secretly reported that Wu Sangui's troops in Liaodong were making unusual movements, and the army suspected that there were Later Jin spies among them."
Wu Sangui.
This name was too sensitive in the historical records of the late Ming Dynasty.
Li Ce closed his eyes.
Memories of my past life surged up—the slowly opening city gate of Shanhaiguan, the blades of the Guan Ning cavalry turning around, the deafening cries from Beijing…
He opened his eyes, his gaze icy cold.
"It's rumored to be Li Ruolian."
At 3:45 PM, Li Ruolian entered the palace.
He still carried the damp, cold smell of the imperial prison, and there was a trace of ink on his cuff.
"His Majesty."
"How far can the Embroidered Uniform Guard in Liaodong infiltrate?" Li Ce asked bluntly.
Li Ruolian pondered for a moment: "We have people around officers of the rank of 1,000 or above."
But Wu Sangui himself... he was extremely strict in disciplining his troops, and his personal guards were all men from Liaodong who had served him for many years; the Embroidered Uniform Guard couldn't infiltrate them.
"Then let's start with the people around him." Li Ce tapped the table. "His generals Yang Kun and Guo Yunlong, as well as his Wu family's relatives and old friends in the capital... keep a close eye on them. Pay special attention to whether anyone has any dealings with the eight great Shanxi merchants."
"Shanxi merchants?" Li Ruolian was taken aback.
"Fan Yongdou, Wang Dengku, Jin Liangyu..." Li Ce recited several names. "These people travel between the interior and exterior of the pass year-round, ostensibly to do business, but in reality—they are the eyes and wallets of the Later Jin within the pass."
Li Ruolian's pupils contracted slightly: "Your Majesty means that Wu Sangui may have connections with the Later Jin through Shanxi merchants?"
"It's not a possibility." Li Ce stood up, walked to the map, and pointed to Ningyuan. "It definitely exists. But what I need to know now is—to what stage has this connection reached? Is it private trade, or... has a price already been agreed upon?"
Li Ruolian took a deep breath.
If Wu Sangui truly had a secret agreement with the Later Jin, then the Liaodong defense line could collapse from within at any time.
"I will investigate immediately," he said in a deep voice, "but it will take time. Shanxi merchants have deep roots in Shanxi and also have many businesses in the capital. It will take at least ten days to half a month to find out their connections with Liaodong."
"I'll give you time." Li Ce turned around, "but the news about Changping will be kept secret for three days before being made public."
Li Ruolian's eyes lit up: "Your Majesty means..."
"Let's turn the tables on them." Li Ce walked back to his desk, picked up a vermilion pen, wrote a few words on a blank piece of paper, and handed it to Li Ruolian. "In the next three days, have the Embroidered Uniform Guard spread the word in the capital that I have compromised under pressure from the border troops and will soon release some of the arrested officials."
Li Ruolian took the note; it contained only four words:
"Lue the snake out of its hole."
"Your Majesty understands." He carefully put away the note. "Your Majesty will arrange for reliable people to spread the news. Those in the court who haven't been purged yet, the spies in the capital from Jiangnan, and... those who might have ears in Liaodong, will all hear it."
"Go."
Li Ruolian bowed and withdrew.
Li Ce was left alone in the warm pavilion again.
He sat back down at his desk, looking at the flintlock musket design. The structure of the reed, anvil, and powder chamber was clearly drawn on the drawing, with small red annotations by Johann Adam Schall von Bell: "If mass-produced, it can rival the Jurchen archery and horsemanship."
technology.
army.
silver.
He now has a little bit of all three things.
The flintlock pistol was still on paper, but it had a direction.
After this purge and the deterrent effect in Changping, the Beijing garrison should be able to stabilize for a period of time.
The million taels of silver confiscated from the house can be used to pay salaries, buy grain, and recruit soldiers, which should last for a while.
But not enough.
Far from enough.
Outside the window, the sky was bright, the morning mist had dissipated, and the pale autumn sunlight shone on the glazed tiles of the Qianqing Palace.
Wang Chengen quietly entered and brought over a bowl of hot porridge.
"Your Majesty, it's time for your meal."
Li Ce didn't move.
He watched the steam rising from the bowl, then suddenly spoke, his voice barely a whisper:
"Wang Chengen, you said... if a person knows that he has already fallen to his death six times on the road in front of him."
When he went up again, should he be afraid, or numb?
The old eunuch was stunned. He opened his mouth, but didn't know how to answer.
Li Ce didn't wait for his answer.
He picked up the bowl and drank it all in one gulp.
The porridge was still hot, so hot it hurt his throat, but he seemed not to feel it.
He put down the bowl, walked to the window, and opened it.
A cold wind blew in, causing his robes to flutter.
"But I had no choice."
He looked out at the pale sunlight streaming through the window and said softly:
"I can only move forward."
"Take one step at a time, and you'll get back on track."
"Walk until you can't walk anymore."
Outside the window, withered leaves were swept up by the wind, swirling and drifting into the depths of the palace.
But an even bigger storm is quietly brewing in this seemingly calm autumn day.