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

Chapter 53 Wuchang Choice

June 25th, the sixteenth year of Chongzhen's reign, Wuchang.

The Yangtze River has entered its flood season, and the water level has risen sharply. The muddy yellow river water has overflowed the lowest stone steps of the dock, pounding against the mooring bollards and making a deep, mournful sound.

The air was filled with the smell of water and rotting reeds, which clung to the skin and couldn't be pulled off.

Zuo Liangyu had been standing under the old locust tree in the back garden of the General's Mansion for half an hour.

He wore a casual indigo robe, no crown, and his gray hair was hastily tied up with a wooden hairpin. He clutched three letters in his hand—all delivered around midnight last night, the corners of the paper damp with sweat.

The first letter was written by Zuo Menggeng from Jiujiang, in hasty handwriting: "After thirteen days of stalemate, Zheng Sen is not giving way, and our supplies are running out. On the eighteenth, I received my father's order to lead the army back, and we should reach Wuchang on the twenty-third."

The second letter was delivered at great risk by a scout from Xiangyang: "On June 15th, Sun Chuanting's 8,000 cavalry burned the grain supplies at Lushan. Liu Zongmin retreated, and the siege of Nanyang was lifted. Sun's troops have returned to Tongguan."

The third letter, the shortest, was sent by Jin Shenghuan from outside Nanchang: "The siege was unsuccessful, and the soldiers are exhausted. I heard that Jiujiang has retreated, so I also led my troops back, arriving around the 25th."

Three letters, three directions, all rejected.

Zuo Liangyu held the letters one by one up to the flame of the stone lantern.

The paper corners curled up, charred black, and turned to ash, falling onto the damp blue bricks, where the night dew soaked them, leaving behind several smudges.

"General."

The strategist Lu Ding's voice came from under the corridor, so softly it was as if he were afraid of disturbing something.

Zuo Liangyu didn't turn around: "Has Xu Wenjue arrived?"

"We've just arrived at the dock and are changing horses. We'll be at your residence within 15 minutes."

"Have him come directly to the study." Zuo Liangyu paused. "You, and Jin Shenghuan—come with him when he arrives."

"Yes."

Lu Ding withdrew, his footsteps disappearing at the end of the corridor.

Zuo Liangyu remained standing, gazing at the river. In the distance, fishing lights flickered, like pairs of peering eyes in the thick darkness.

He is waiting.

Waiting for Xu Wenjue's eyes, for the things he brought back from Nanjing.

At the same time, at Wuchang Wharf.

As Xu Wenjue stepped from the plank onto the pier, his legs buckled and he nearly collapsed to his knees. His personal guards caught him, but he waved his hand and took a few deep breaths of the damp, cold river wind.

From Nanjing to Wuchang, an 800-li waterway, he traveled day and night, changing ships three times, finally arriving back tonight. The cabin was cramped, and he barely slept a wink; every time he closed his eyes, he saw images of Nanjing: clean streets, stable grain prices, bustling construction sites, and merchants chatting confidently in teahouses…

And Li Ruolian's eagle-like eyes.

"Mr. Xu is a smart man, a smart man... knows how to choose."

Those words were like a needle stuck in his eardrum, impossible to pull out.

"Mr. Xu," the steward who came to fetch him said in a low voice, "the commander is waiting at the mansion."

Xu Wenjue nodded and got into the carriage. The curtain was drawn, shutting out the noise of the dock. He leaned against the side of the carriage, feeling as if his bones were about to fall apart, but the string in his mind was taut.

What should he say?

If I tell the truth, the commander-in-chief will be furious.

If I don't tell the truth, the commander will die.

Horse hooves clattered on the stone pavement, and the night streets of Wuchang were unusually quiet. Occasionally, a night watchman would strike his clapper, the hollow sound carrying far.

The General's Study.

The four tallow lamps burned brightly, the oil had been freshly added, the flames were steady, and there was hardly any smoke.

Zuo Liangyu sat in the main seat, now dressed in a dark blue silk robe; his face appeared ashen under the lamplight. Lu Ding sat to the lower left, his eyes downcast.

Jin Shenghuan had just returned from Nanchang. Still in his armor, he sat on the lower right, looking exhausted, with stubble and dirt still clinging to his beard.

When Xu Wenjue entered, three pairs of eyes stared at him simultaneously.

He bowed, his voice hoarse: "This student... greets the Commander-in-Chief."

"Sit down." Zuo Liangyu gestured to the empty chair opposite Lu Ding. "Tea."

A guard brought over a teacup, which Xu Wenjue accepted. His hand trembled slightly, and the lid tapped against the rim of the cup, making a soft clinking sound.

"Tell me," Zuo Liangyu said calmly, his voice devoid of emotion. "Nanjing, what's it like?"

Xu Wenjue composed himself and took out a small notebook from his sleeve—a record of his observations during his five days in Nanjing, densely filled with writing.

"The student arrived in Nanjing on June 14 and left on June 19. What he saw and heard can be divided into four parts."

"Firstly, grain tax." He opened the notebook, "The grain price in Nanjing is stable: one tael and two mace for japonica rice and one shi for wheat. There are stable grain warehouses in the market, and the government controls the price, so there is no grain shortage. The canal transport is now open, with more than two hundred boats passing through the canal every day. The canal workers are paid three taels a month, which is paid directly to them without any deductions."

Zuo Liangyu tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest of the chair.

"Secondly, military and political affairs," Xu Wenjue continued. "The new army has trained about 50,000 men, equipped with flintlock muskets and cannons, and they drill daily at Xiaolingwei, with strict discipline. Zheng Sen's navy has over a hundred Fujian ships, controlling the Yangtze River. Huang Degong's troops are stationed in Anqing and can advance westward at any time."

Jin Shenghuan frowned when he heard the name "Huang Degong".

"Thirdly, the administration of officials." Xu Wenjue's voice was even lower. "The Anti-Corruption Bureau has been established, dedicated to investigating corruption. I personally witnessed the yamen runners posting judgments: a clerk in Yingtian Prefecture accepted a bribe of fifty taels of silver, was exiled three thousand li, and his family property was confiscated. The atmosphere in all levels of government offices in Nanjing is now very orderly."

The study was so quiet that only the crackling of the lamp wick could be heard.

"Fourthly, public sentiment." Xu Wenjue closed his notebook, looked up at Zuo Liangyu, and said, "I overheard merchants and commoners discussing the benefits of the new policies in teahouses and taverns. One silk merchant said, 'The court now operates according to regulations; whatever is due is what is due, and there's no extortion or bribery.' Another grain merchant said, 'The customs checkpoints only take fifteen minutes to inspect goods, whereas before it would have taken half a day.'"

He paused, his voice hoarse: "General, Nanjing... is not the Nanjing of the past. The imperial court has money, grain, and soldiers, and more importantly—the hearts of the people have turned to it."

Zuo Liangyu closed his eyes and remained silent for a long time.

Jin Shenghuan couldn't help but ask, "Isn't Mr. Xu being a bit too..."

"Too what?" Zuo Liangyu opened his eyes, his gaze sharp as a knife. "Too encouraging of others?"

Jin Shenghuan choked.

"He's telling the truth." Zuo Liangyu stood up, walked to the map hanging on the wall, and traced a line from Wuchang to Nanjing, then to Jiujiang. "Meng Geng's 30,000 troops and 200 ships were blocked by Zheng Sen's 80 ships for 13 days, unable to advance an inch. Sheng Huan, you had 20,000 troops, and you attacked Nanchang for three days. Did you take it?"

Jin Shenghuan's face flushed red: "This humble general..."

"Sun Chuanting's eight thousand cavalrymen marched six hundred li from Tongguan, burning the grain supplies in Lushan. Liu Zongmin's thirty thousand elite cavalry had no choice but to retreat." Zuo Liangyu turned around and stared at the three men. "What is this? This is strength. The imperial court has strength now. It is no longer the court that begged us to suppress the bandits in the fourteenth year of Chongzhen's reign."

He walked back to the table, picked up the now-cold tea, and drank it all in one gulp: "Xu Wenjue, what else did Li Ruolian say?"

Xu Wenjue's Adam's apple bobbed: "He said... His Majesty, considering the General's status as a veteran of three reigns, will grant him leniency. He will relinquish his military power, retire to Nanjing in comfort, and retain his title and wealth. If he remains obstinate..."

"how?"

"He didn't finish." Xu Wenjue lowered his head, "But on the day I left, I heard that Qin Liangyu's nephew, Qin Yiming, led 5,000 White-Spear Soldiers eastward out of the Three Gorges and had already reached Zigui."

"Qin Liangyu!" Jin Shenghuan suddenly stood up.

Zuo Liangyu waved for him to sit down, a bitter smile appearing on his face. "Qin Liangyu to the west, Huang Degong to the east, and to the north... Sun Chuanting just finished attacking Nanyang, will he move south next? Zheng Sen controls the river to the south." He looked at Lu Ding, "Mr. Lu, we're surrounded, aren't we?"

Lu Ding was silent for a moment, then slowly said, "General, given the current situation, a direct confrontation is not the best strategy. The imperial court has already taken control of the finances of Jiangnan, with an annual revenue of no less than eight million taels, enough to support an army of three hundred thousand."

Although our Huguang region is wealthy, years of war have made tax collection difficult, and our 100,000-strong army is running out of resources and cannot sustain this situation for long.

"So, what does sir mean?"

"Take a step back for now," Lu Ding said calmly. "On the surface, comply with the imperial edict and relinquish some military power to reassure the court. The commander-in-chief can temporarily reside in Wuchang to 'rest' and observe the situation."

If the dynasty truly achieves a revival, the Marshal will undoubtedly be a founding hero; if the dynasty faces further turmoil... Wuchang will still be in our hands.

"How many troops should we hand over?" Jin Shenghuan asked urgently.

"Thirty thousand," Lu Ding said. "Let General Meng Geng lead thirty thousand troops 'northward to assist in defense,' but in reality, hand them over to the court for reorganization. We'll leave seventy thousand elite troops to control Wuchang, Yuezhou, and Jiujiang. In this way, the court can save face, and our foundation won't be damaged."

Zuo Liangyu sat down again, rubbing his temples with his fingers.

The study fell silent again. A breeze from the river seeped in through the window cracks, causing the lamplight to flicker and the shadows on the wall to tremble.

After a long silence, Zuo Liangyu spoke, his voice weary: "Xu Wenjue."

"The students are here."

"Draft a memorial in my name," Zuo Liangyu said with his eyes closed. "Say that... Your subject is old and ill, and can no longer bear the hardships of military service. I request to resign from the position of Commander-in-Chief of Huguang, and recommend Li Ruolian to temporarily replace him. Your subject Meng Geng is willing to lead 30,000 troops north to assist in the defense of Xuanfu, in order to atone for his past mistakes."

Xu Wenjue was stunned: "General, this..."

"Write it as is." Zuo Liangyu opened his eyes, which were bloodshot. "But add one clause: My body is injured and ill, and I cannot bear the hardships of travel. I request to stay in Wuchang to recuperate for the time being, and go to Nanjing to pay my respects to Your Majesty in the spring of next year."

Lu Ding's eyes lit up—this was a backup plan. He was in Wuchang, his troops were in Wuchang, and his so-called "resignation" was merely a temporary measure.

"Also," Zuo Liangyu looked at Jin Shenghuan, "Shenghuan, your 20,000 troops, don't go back to Wuchang. Station them in Yuezhou, controlling the mouth of Dongting Lake. Not a single soldier is allowed to move without my order."

"This subordinate obeys!"

"Go ahead, all of you," Zuo Liangyu waved his hand. "Let me have some peace and quiet."

The three left the study.

Zuo Liangyu remained alone under the lamp, then took out a letter from his bosom—a secret letter that had arrived that morning, from outside Shanhaiguan. The letter was short, containing only one line: "When autumn is high and the horses are fat, you may head south."

There was no signature, but he recognized the handwriting.

Dorgon.

He held the letter up to the lamplight as well. The paper burned quickly, and the flames licked his fingertips, making him shudder.

The ashes fell into the inkstone, mixing with the uncrushed ink, forming a pool of filth.

When autumn is high and horses are fat...

It's the end of June now.

Three months left.

June 28th, Wenhua Hall, Nanjing.

Li Ce read Zuo Liangyu's memorial three times.

Ni Yuanlu, Li Ruolian, and Li Jizhen stood below, all holding their breath.

"What do you think?" Li Ce put down the memorial.

Ni Yuanlu spoke first: "Zuo Liangyu's resignation as general, his recommendation of Ruolian to replace him, and his sending his son north have already shown enough humility. But his request to stay in Wuchang to 'recuperate' is clearly a wait-and-see approach."

Li Jizhen nodded: "He surrendered 30,000 troops and left 70,000. Wuchang, Yuezhou, and Jiujiang are still under his control. This is only a temporary retreat, not a true surrender."

Li Ce looked at Li Ruolian: "What do you think?"

Li Ruolian pondered for a moment: "Your Majesty, Zuo Liangyu is a man of two minds, and cannot be entirely trusted. But for now, he has already done quite well. The court has just lifted the siege of Nanyang, and the standoff at Jiujiang has only just ended. We should not push him too hard. I believe... we can grant his request."

"allow?"

"He is permitted to resign as general, Meng Geng is permitted to go north, and he is permitted to reside temporarily in Wuchang," Li Ruolian said. "But there are three conditions: First, the Yuezhou troops must be reduced to five thousand, and the rest must be dismissed. Second, the defense of the Wuchang River must be assisted by the imperial navy. Third, he must come to the capital for an audience with the emperor next spring."

Li Ce tapped his fingers on the table, tap, tap, tap.

After a long pause, he said, "Let's add one more thing. Zuo Menggeng will head north, not along the Yangtze River, but along the Han River, passing through Xiangyang and Nanyang to Xuanfu. He will be 'escorted' by Sun Chuanting's troops along the way."

Ni Yuanlu was taken aback: "Your Majesty is worried about..."

"It's not that I'm worried," Li Ce said calmly. "It's to show him how much territory the imperial court can control and how many troops it can mobilize. Even after the recent battle in Nanyang, there are still troops escorting his 30,000-strong army—let him figure out what kind of strength that is."

He picked up his vermilion brush and wrote four characters on the memorial:

"I understand."

Noncommittal.

That's attitude.

July 3rd, Wuchang.

When Zuo Liangyu received the imperial reply, he was feeding fish in the back garden.

Dozens of koi carp, red and gold, swam leisurely in the pond. He scattered some fish food, and the fish gathered around, vying for it, creating ripples on the surface of the water.

The guard presented the document. He wiped his hands and unfolded it.

"I understand."

Just these four words.

There was no right or wrong, no blame or reassurance.

It's like punching cotton.

Zuo Liangyu stared at the four large vermilion characters for a long time, then suddenly smiled.

"Your Majesty... has grown up."

He held the document close to the fishpond; a koi leaped up, splashing water that dampened a corner of the paper. The cinnabar dissolved in the water, resembling blood.

"Send word to Meng Geng," he turned around, his voice calm, "that 30,000 troops be mustered and set off on the tenth day of the seventh month, heading north along the Han River. Inform the prefectures and counties along the way that the court has given its approval and to treat them well."

"General, are we really going to take the Han River? That's Sun Chuanting's territory..."

"It's precisely because this is Sun Chuanting's territory that we're leaving." Zuo Liangyu looked north, "Let him see what kind of force our Zuo family army is."

The guards received their orders and withdrew.

Zuo Liangyu continued feeding the fish. After the fish food was finished, the surface of the pond returned to calm, the koi sank to the bottom, and only a few fallen leaves floated on the surface.

The autumn wind is about to rise.

The grass in the north must be turning yellow by now.

On the night of the fifth day of the seventh lunar month, in Nanjing.

Li Ce stood on the terrace of Wenhua Hall, gazing at the starry sky to the north.

The handle of the Big Dipper points west, indicating that autumn is approaching.

"Your Majesty," Ni Yuanlu said softly, "the matter of Zuo Liangyu is temporarily concluded. Next..."

"Next," Li Ce continued, "it's time to look to the north."

He was clutching two newly arrived secret reports in his hand.

A report from Xuanfu Ma Ke states: "Mongolian cavalry are frequently patrolling, seemingly scouting ahead."

A document from Shanhaiguan states: "Wu Sangui's memorial requesting funds became increasingly urgent, containing the phrase 'the morale of the army is wavering.'"

There was also a reminder he received last night, a "seven lifetimes of memories" that only he knew about:

In August of the sixteenth year of the Chongzhen Emperor's reign, Huang Taiji died. In September, Dorgon seized power. In October, the Qing army was about to launch a major offensive.

It is now July.

Time is like sand slipping through your fingers; the tighter you grasp it, the faster it flows away.

"Mr. Ni," Li Ce suddenly asked, "if you were Dorgon, what would you do in this situation?"

Ni Yuanlu pondered for a moment: "I will wait. I will wait until autumn is high and the horses are fat, until the internal strife in the Ming Dynasty is even worse, and until there is an opportunity... to strike decisively."

"He won't wait any longer." Li Ce shook his head. "Huang Taiji is seriously ill, and Dorgon needs a great victory to consolidate his power. When the autumn horses are fat and strong... that will be his opportunity."

He turned around, went into the hall, and walked to the map.

The finger traces from Shanhaiguan to Xuanfu, to Datong, and to Juyongguan.

"Issue the decree," his voice deepened, "Order Zhou Yuji: The defenses of Xuanfu can be abandoned on the outer perimeter; hold the city firmly. Order Ma Ke: The same applies to Datong. Order Wu Sangui…"

He paused, then said, "I hereby bestow upon Wu Sangui the title of Earl of Pingxi and grant him 50,000 taels of silver. Tell him: 'If you defend Shanhaiguan, I will not fail you.'"

"Your Majesty, this reward is too generous..."

"Only by paying a heavy price can we buy his loyalty." Li Ce pointed to Shanhaiguan. "At least, we can buy his loyalty this autumn."

Ni Yuanlu took notes, her hand trembling slightly.

"Also," Li Ce looked at Li Ruolian, "you go to Dengzhou and Laizhou in person to see Shen Shikui. Tell him that the navy is preparing for war and ready to march north at any time. Zheng Sen's mission on the Yangtze River has been completed, and he will be transferred to Liaodong soon."

"I obey your decree."

The officials withdrew.

Li Ce stood alone before the map, gazing at the vast northern landscape that was about to be stained with blood and fire.

Zuo Liangyu's crisis has been temporarily resolved.

But the real life-or-death struggle has only just begun.

Outside the window, the night wind rose, making the iron gate on the eaves clang.

Like the drumbeats before a battle.