Transmigrating to the Chongzhen era, I started by confiscating the Donglin Party.

Chapter 17 Aftershocks and Thunder - New

On the 19th day of the tenth month of the fifteenth year of Chongzhen's reign, at the beginning of noon.

In front of the West Market Archway.

The autumn sun hung high in the sky, blindingly bright, making it impossible to open one's eyes.

The wind was cold, blowing from the north, stirring up dust and withered leaves from the ground, swirling them in the air like a silent, sorrowful dance.

The execution platform was newly built, and the wood still smelled of fresh wood shavings.

The platform is three feet high and two zhang wide, with a wooden stake as thick as a bowl standing in the center.

The executioner was a burly man in his fifties, shirtless, with bulging muscles and a scar running from his forehead to his chin. He was sharpening his knife.

The whetstone was made of fine bluestone, and the water was freshly drawn from the well, clear and icy cold. The knife was a demon-head knife, thick-backed and thin-edged, its blade gleaming with a dark, murky sheen. As the blade moved back and forth on the bluestone, it made a monotonous "swish-swish" sound.

With each stroke of the millstone, the onlookers shuddered.

There are a lot of people.

The line stretched from the archway to the end of the street, a dense, dark mass of people, numbering at least tens of thousands. Men, women, the elderly, and children were all huddled together, craning their necks, standing on tiptoe, their eyes fixed on the person kneeling on the execution platform.

Zhu Chunchen.

He was wearing a clean white prison uniform, without any bloodstains or dirt.

Her hair was neatly combed and held up with a wooden hairpin. Her face was expressionless, her eyes staring blankly ahead at the dark, silent crowd.

Three days ago, he was still the Duke of Cheng of the Ming Dynasty, a hereditary title that would last forever, and he would live and die with the nation.

Three days later, he knelt here, waiting to be beheaded.

Ah, life.

It's like an absurd dream.

The supervising official was Chen Wenqi, the Right Vice Minister of the Ministry of Justice, a thin old man. He sat in the execution chamber on the east side of the execution platform, holding a cup of hot tea but not drinking a drop. His face was pale, sweat beaded on his forehead, and his eyes kept glancing towards the palace.

He is waiting.

Wait until noon.

Waiting for that final... imperial decree.

"Dad..." A five- or six-year-old boy tugged at his father's sleeve from the crowd and asked timidly, "Who...is that person?"

The father was a man in his thirties, his face weathered, his hands rough—clearly the work of a manual laborer. He looked down at his son, then up at Zhu Chunchen on the execution platform, his voice hoarse:

"He's... a bad guy."

"What bad thing did he do?"

"He..." the man thought for a moment, "He left us without food."

The little boy nodded, seemingly understanding but not quite.

A subtle commotion began to stir among the surrounding crowd.

People were whispering among themselves:

"I heard he hoarded 60,000 shi of grain, driving the price up to 2.8 liang..."

"My mother starved to death around that time..."

"Damn it!"

"Bah! Traitorous minister!"

It started as sporadic sounds, then grew more numerous and louder. Some people spat towards the execution platform, while others picked up stones from the ground and threw them—though they couldn't possibly throw them that far.

Zhu Chunchen listened to the curses, the insults, and the outpouring of anger.

His face remained expressionless.

His eyes, however, seemed even more vacant.

Noon, 2:45.

A troop of cavalry galloped from the direction of Chang'an Avenue, their hooves thundering, startling the crowd into giving way. Leading them was a commander of the Imperial Guard, carrying a yellow silk scroll in his hands.

The executioner, Vice Minister Chen, quickly rose and went to meet him.

The commander dismounted, unrolled the scroll, and proclaimed in a loud voice:

"Imperial decree—!"

"kneel--!"

Everyone on and off the execution platform, including Zhu Chunchen, knelt down.

"By the grace of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: Zhu Chunchen, Duke of Cheng, has received the Emperor's favor for generations, yet he does not think of repaying it. Instead, he colludes with merchants to hoard goods and incite a mutiny, intending to rebel."

The evidence is irrefutable, and this is an outrage against humanity. He is hereby executed, and his family property confiscated, as a warning to others. So be it!

The voice was loud and clear, echoing across the empty execution ground.

The crowd was deathly silent.

The cursing and swearing that had just been heard all disappeared.

Only the wind and... the sound of sharpening knives remained.

The commander put away the imperial edict, nodded to Minister Chen, mounted his horse, and led his men away.

Vice Minister Chen wiped the sweat from his brow, walked to the execution platform, looked at Zhu Chunchen kneeling there, hesitated for a moment, and whispered:

"Duke Cheng...do you have anything else to say?"

Zhu Chunchen slowly raised his head and looked at him.

Looked for a long time.

Then he smiled.

The laughter was bitter, the laughter was sarcastic.

"Minister Chen," he said, his voice hoarse but clear, "I trouble you... to pass on a message to His Majesty for me."

Minister Chen's heart skipped a beat: "...Please speak."

Zhu Chunchen looked towards the palace and spoke slowly and deliberately:

"Your Majesty...you can kill me alone."

"Could we slaughter all...the gentry and nobles of the land?"

Vice Minister Chen's expression changed drastically, and he subconsciously took a half step back.

Zhu Chunchen stopped looking at him and turned to the people below the stage, to the dark, silent crowd.

He raised his voice, which carried on the cold wind:

"You...do you really think you'll have food to eat if you kill me?"

"Do you really think... the emperor is some kind of savior?"

"Wrong!"

He hissed, his eyes bloodshot:

"If you kill me, Zhu Chunchen, today, there will be a Zhang Chunchen and a Li Chunchen tomorrow! This Ming Dynasty belongs to the gentry and the nobility! The emperor alone... cannot change this!"

The crowd remained silent.

But something different emerged from the silence.

It wasn't anger, it wasn't hatred.

Yes... I'm confused.

Minister Chen's forehead was covered in cold sweat. He knew he couldn't let Zhu Chunchen continue.

"The time has come!" he roared hoarsely. "Execute them—!"

The executioner put down the whetstone, stood up, and walked behind Zhu Chunchen.

Two constables stepped forward and pressed Zhu Chunchen down onto a wooden stake, exposing his neck.

The decapitation sword was raised.

The sword reflected a straight, dazzling light in the midday sun.

Zhu Chunchen closed his eyes.

At the last moment, what he heard was not cursing or insults.

It is silence.

Then--

"cut!"

The sword fell.

A sharp, piercing sound cuts through the air—"Clang!"

Blood splattered.

A head rolled onto the execution platform.

His eyes were still open, gazing at the sky, at the dazzling white sun.

The crowd remained silent.

Only the wind is still blowing.

The wind blew up dust, withered leaves, and a faint smell of blood.

Minister Chen slumped into his chair, utterly exhausted.

The executioner wiped his sword, bent down, picked up the head, and put it into the wooden box.

The yamen runners began to clean up the execution platform and wash away the bloodstains.

The people began to slowly disperse.

No one cheered, no one celebrated.

There was only a heavy silence.

It felt like a huge rock weighing on my heart.

An old woman, holding her grandson's hand, turned to leave and whispered:

"Let's go...home."

"Grandma..." the grandson asked, looking up, "That bad guy is dead, so... will we really have food to eat from now on?"

The old woman did not answer.

He simply held his grandson's hand tightly, very tightly.

On the same day, at 1:00 PM, in the West Warm Pavilion of Qianqing Palace.

Li Ce stood by the window, holding a newly delivered report in his hand.

This is a detailed list of today's grain prices submitted by Shuntian Prefecture:

"October 19th, noon, the price lists in various wards of the capital—"

"Japonica rice: 1.45 taels."

Brown rice: 1.3 taels.

"Wheat: 1.2 taels."

Prices have stabilized.

Moreover, it is still slowly declining.

Wang Chengen entered quietly and whispered:

"Your Majesty, the matter at the West Market... is settled."

Li Ce didn't turn around: "How is the public's reaction?"

"At first... some people cursed. Later..." Wang Chengen paused, "...they all fell silent."

"Silence," Li Ce repeated, "is better than insults."

He turned around, walked to the imperial desk, and picked up another report.

It was Li Ruolian who presented the final inventory results regarding the confiscation of Zhu Chunchen's property:

"Cash: 457,000 taels"

"Gold: Nine thousand two hundred taels."

"Estimated value of jewelry and jade artifacts: 220,000 taels."

"Estimated value of the land deeds: 850,000 taels."

"Grain: 58,000 shi (already on the market)."

"Total value in silver: approximately 1.58 million taels."

A detailed allocation plan is attached below:

"Sixty percent of the back pay for the nine border regions (950,000 taels) will be allocated to the four garrisons of Datong, Xuanfu, Jizhou, and Liaodong."

"Thirty percent of the new army will be recruited (470,000 taels of silver), with 30,000 able-bodied men to be recruited from Beizhili and Shanxi, and trained by Zhou Yuji."

"One-tenth of the funds (160,000 taels) will be used to repair the Yellow River dikes and allocated to the river management departments in Henan and Shandong."

After reading it, Li Ce picked up his pen and wrote a comment in vermilion ink:

"Approved. To be implemented immediately."

He put down his pen and asked:

"How's the soup kitchen setup going?"

"Your Majesty, all ten soup kitchens are now open," Wang Chengen reported. "They are using Zhu Chunchen's grain, and are being distributed twice a day, at Chenshi (7-9 AM) and Shenshi (3-5 PM), with each person receiving a bowl of thick soup. The people... are queuing up to receive it in an orderly manner."

"Alright." Li Ce nodded. "Tell the Shuntian Prefecture that the soup kitchens will continue for three months. If there are still hungry people after three months, we'll discuss it again."

"Yes."

"What other opinions are there among the people?"

Wang Chengen hesitated for a moment: "Some said the Emperor was wise, some said... said it was good to kill him. But there were also some... less pleasant things to say."

"explain."

"To say that the Emperor's methods are too ruthless, killing Xun Gui like slaughtering a dog, I fear... I fear he will lose the hearts of the people."

Li Ce smiled.

His laughter was cold.

"Human hearts?" he repeated. "When they're hungry, they want food. When they're full, they start wanting 'human hearts'."

He paused:

"Tell those who gossip—what I want is not their hearts. What I want is for them to... obey the rules."

Wang Chengen lowered his head: "This servant understands."

Just then, hurried footsteps came from outside the hall.

Li Ruolian has arrived.

His expression was solemn, and he held a sealed letter sealed with wax in his hand. He knelt down immediately upon entering the hall.

"Your Majesty, an urgent report from Liaodong."

Li Ce's eyes sharpened: "Speak."

"Wu Sangui's troops began to consolidate their defenses three days ago." Li Ruolian unfolded the secret letter. "The twelve forts surrounding Ningyuan have all been abandoned. Their forces have been reduced to the three cities of Ningyuan, Jinzhou, and Shanhaiguan. Scouts report that Wu Sangui himself has moved from Ningyuan to Shanhaiguan and is staying indoors."

"reason?"

"They said it was because of insufficient troops and the need to concentrate on defense." Li Ruolian paused, "But our inside informant in Shanhaiguan reported that Shanxi merchant Fan Yongdou's convoy has been frequently entering and leaving Shanhaiguan in the past two weeks, at least seven times."

The goods were covered with tarpaulins, making them difficult to see, but the guards whispered among themselves that the wheel tracks were extremely deep, suggesting...it might be ironware or grain.

Li Ce's fingers tapped lightly on the imperial desk.

One moment, one moment.

"Fan Yongdou." He read the name aloud. "The head of the eight great Shanxi merchants, specializing in business outside the Great Wall, and having close ties with the Jurchens..."

"Yes," Li Ruolian said. "I have sent people to closely monitor the Fan family's strongholds in the capital, but... they are very cautious and have not yet found any substantial evidence against them."

"Keep an eye on it," Li Ce said. "Wu Sangui is shrinking his defenses, either because he's truly short of troops and supplies, or... he's waiting for the right price to go up."

He stood up, walked to the huge "Complete Map of the Ming Dynasty", and pointed to the location of Liaodong.

"He's waiting," Li Ce said, "waiting for me and the Jurchens... to both be severely weakened."

"Or..." Li Ruolian said in a low voice, "wait for the Jurchens to make an offer."

A brief silence fell over the hall.

Only the candlelight flickered uneasily.

"What about the Later Jin?" Li Ce asked. "What's Huang Taiji up to?"

"Urgent report from the scouts." Li Ruolian took out another secret letter from her bosom. "Huang Taiji's main force has moved westward from Shenyang, heading straight for Xuanfu."

The force numbers approximately 80,000, including 20,000 Han Chinese bannermen, 30,000 Mongol bannermen, and 30,000 Jianzhou Jurchen troops. They are expected to reach the outskirts of Xuanfu within five days.

"General of Xuanfu... Wang Chengyin."

"Yes." Li Ruolian's voice was even lower. "Wang Chengyin has been making unusual moves recently—he has closed three beacon towers outside Xuanfu and dismissed the military households stationed along the route. Our night watchmen in Xuanfu have been reporting that Mongol merchants have been frequently coming and going from Wang Chengyin's residence lately."

Li Ce's eyes turned completely cold.

Xuanfu.

A strategically important town on the border, and the gateway to the capital.

If Xuanfu falls, the Jurchen cavalry can march straight to Juyong Pass. Juyong Pass is only 150 li from the capital, a distance that cavalry can cover in a day.

"Zhou Yuji." He turned around. "Where are you?"

"General Zhou has already reorganized his troops at Juyong Pass. He has three thousand soldiers from Shanxi under his command, plus two thousand new recruits transferred from the Beijing garrison, totaling five thousand," Li Ruolian said. "Supplies and weapons are ready, and we are ready to fight at any time."

"Not enough." Li Ce shook his head. "Five thousand men are enough to defend Juyong Pass, but if Wang Chengyin really opens the city gates..."

He didn't finish speaking.

But the meaning is clear to everyone.

"Your Majesty," Li Ruolian raised her head, "I have a plan."

"speak."

"Zu Dashou," Li Ruolian uttered three words.

Li Ce's eyes flickered.

Zu Dashu.

He was originally the General of Jinzhou. After the Battle of Dalinghe in the fourth year of Chongzhen's reign, he surrendered to the Qing Dynasty. However, his family was still in Jinzhou, with more than a hundred members under the control of the Ming army.

Although this man surrendered, he was not entirely loyal to the Jurchens, and he was Wu Sangui's uncle.

"Go on."

“Zu Dashou surrendered to the Qing to save his life, not out of loyalty,” Li Ruolian said. “His family is in Jinzhou and has always been ‘protected’ by our people.”

Your Majesty, I believe we should secretly instruct Zu Dashou—if Wu Sangui makes any unusual moves, he can "rebel" and seize Shanhaiguan, cutting off Wu Sangui's retreat.

Li Ce remained silent for a moment.

"Would he agree?"

"He must agree," Li Ruolian said calmly. "His son and grandson are in our hands. Moreover... His Majesty can promise him that after the deed is done, he will be pardoned and will remain the General of Jinzhou."

"What if he feigns agreement but is actually colluding with the enemy?"

"Then his family members will suffer a terrible fate," Li Ruolian said. "Zu Dashou is over sixty years old and values ​​the continuation of his family line the most. I believe... he will weigh the pros and cons."

Li Ce walked to the imperial desk, picked up a brush, and wrote a few lines on a blank yellow silk.

Then, he handed the yellow silk to Li Ruolian:

"Send this to Jinzhou via express courier, 600 li. Tell our people—if Zu Dashou agrees, show him this. If he doesn't…"

He paused:

"Kill his eldest son, send his head to Shenyang as a gift to Huang Taiji."

Li Ruolian accepted the yellow silk with both hands and bowed, saying, "Yes."

"And one more thing," Li Ce continued, "order Zhou Yuji to proceed to Juyong Pass in three days. Do not wait for the imperial decree; if any disturbance is detected in Xuanfu, execute him first and report later."

"Yes."

"Order Zheng Zhibao to assemble all ships of the Dengzhou-Laizhou naval forces at Tianjin Port. Prepare sufficient provisions and fresh water, and be ready to act at any time."

Li Ruolian was taken aback: "Your Majesty, this is...?"

"Just in case." Li Ce looked at him, his eyes unfathomable. "If something unexpected happens... my crown prince needs a way out."

Li Ruolian's heart skipped a beat, and he lowered his head: "Your subject... understands."

He knew what the emperor's words meant.

This means that the emperor was already preparing for the worst.

This means that the war might be lost.

"The situation in Jiangnan," Li Ce said finally, "it's time to settle things."

He walked back to his desk, picked up his brush, and wrote another imperial edict:

"Tell Han Zanzhou—it's time for my governor of Jiangnan to take office."

"Have him recommend three candidates. I'll... mark one."

But tell him—

Li Ce stopped writing and looked up:

"This person must be able to keep the gentry in check, and also... be able to kill people."

Li Ruolian accepted the imperial edict with both hands and bowed deeply:

"Your Majesty, I will take care of it immediately."

He left the hall.

Inside the hall, only Li Ce remained.

He walked to the window and looked north.

On an autumn afternoon, the sun shone brightly, the sky was azure, and there wasn't a cloud in sight.

It's a nice day.

Suitable for... murder.

It is also suitable for... to die.

He stood there for a long time.

Then, he turned around, walked back behind his desk, sat down, and picked up a vermilion brush.

Continue reviewing.

Continue governing the country.

Continue...the battle.

Outside the window, the autumn wind howled.

Like the neighing of warhorses.

Like swords clashing.

Like this era, the final... elegy.

October 20th, Chen hour (7-9 AM).

Juyong Pass.

Zhou Yuji stood on the city wall, gazing northward.

Beyond the pass lie rolling mountains, where the late autumn frost has painted the maple leaves red and the birch forests yellow, a scene of vibrant color yet also one of desolation. The wind is strong, making the flags flutter and chilling the armor to the bone.

The lieutenant walked over and whispered:

"General, the scouts report that the smoke of war has been extinguished for three days in the direction of Xuanfu."

Zhou Yuji remained silent.

The smoke of war died down three days later.

This means that the outposts surrounding Xuanfu have either been captured or... surrendered.

"What about Wang Chengyin?" he asked.

"Still no movement," the lieutenant said. "They're staying indoors and refusing to see any envoys. Our men can't get in, but we heard from the soldiers who escaped that... there have been quite a few people with Mongolian accents in Xuanfu City recently."

Zhou Yuji nodded.

He had expected this.

From the moment the emperor ordered him to secretly relocate to Juyong Pass, he knew that Xuanfu... was unreliable.

"General," the lieutenant hesitated, "we only have five thousand men. If the Jurchens really come, they'll have at least eighty thousand... Can we hold them off?"

Zhou Yuji turned around and glanced at him.

His gaze was calm, yet carried an undeniable firmness.

"Even if we can't hold it, we have to."

他 说:

"Behind us are the capital, the emperor, and more than a million people."

"If we withdraw, what will happen to them?"

The lieutenant remained silent.

"Tell the brothers," Zhou Yuji turned and looked towards the pass, "the grain is plentiful. The pay is full. The knives are sharpened. The arrows are nocked."

He paused, then spoke slowly and deliberately:

"From this day forward, Juyong Pass—"

"You are allowed to enter, but not to leave."

"We will either die on the walls of the pass, or... step over the corpses of the Jurchens to get home."

The lieutenant's eyes welled up with tears, and he clasped his hands in a fist salute:

"yes!"

He turned and left.

Zhou Yuji stood alone on the gate wall, his hand pressed against the cold bricks.

The bricks are cold.

Like this era.

But he knew that some things were colder than bricks, and harder than bricks...

For example, people's hearts.

For example, the spine.

He gazed towards the capital and murmured to himself:

"Your Majesty, I... am here."

"Don't worry."

"As long as I am alive—"

"This door will not be opened."