Chapter Twenty-One: The Military Dispatches of the Directorate of Ceremonial

After Zuo Liangyu defied military orders, plundered the camp, and fled, Li Zicheng’s response was swift.

At the first light of dawn, Li Zicheng dispatched elite units to intercept him. Zuo Liangyu, who still commanded tens of thousands of troops despite his retreat, suffered the most. Although he had seized every pack animal he could, his massive numbers made him a conspicuous target. After an assault by Li Zicheng’s forces, his formation fell into complete disarray.

Seeing this, Zuo Liangyu decisively abandoned the troops caught in the fray and continued his retreat to the south.

However, in his desperate, directionless flight, he inadvertently led his remaining forces straight into a network of trenches previously prepared by the rebel army.

Immediately, Zuo Liangyu’s officers and men trampled one another in the chaos, resulting in heavy casualties.

Realizing the situation was hopeless, Zuo Liangyu acted with his characteristic ruthlessness: he abandoned his remaining tens of thousands of soldiers once more, taking only a few thousand of his most trusted men and all the military’s pack animals, and fled madly toward the south.

Perhaps it was because he was traveling light that his speed increased, or perhaps the rebel army, having captured tens of thousands of soldiers, was too overwhelmed to pursue effectively. In any case, Zuo Liangyu finally managed to escape toward Xiangyang, and by all appearances, he would make it back safely.

Meanwhile, Ding Qirui did not retreat to Runing with Yang Wenyue as historical records would suggest; instead, he led his troops into Kaifeng City. It was said that this was due to a lack of manpower to block the rebel forces coming from the northwest. This shortage, in turn, was caused by Li Zicheng’s sudden deployment of Li Yan to Dongming County in the northeast to intercept the Ming army.

Zhu Cilang was, of course, unaware of these subtle shifts in history. At this moment, he felt a heavy heart as he processed the shocking military report. Soon, however, his thoughts began to clear. As a political animal, though his heart was heavy, he keenly grasped a few opportunities.

"At this moment... I should report a great victory. A victory over ten thousand rebels... hmm, I must exaggerate it a bit. Let’s say we crushed forty thousand!" Zhu Cilang thought, then added, "However, I must clarify the actual casualties in the secret memorial. Also... Hou Xun should be arriving in Henan soon..."

"With this in mind... I must deliberate on the timing of this victory report... and plan accordingly..."

***

In the Directorate of Ceremonial, Wang Cheng'en stared at the memorials on his desk, speechless for a long time.

In private, Wang Cheng'en would certainly have cursed bitterly, "What kind of useless trash are those people in Henan?" But with the other attending eunuchs of the Directorate present, he suppressed the urge to vent. Sometimes, knowing too much made even Wang Cheng'en consider a terrifying thought: "Has the Ming Dynasty truly reached the end of its destiny?"

Most people did not believe in such things as "destiny" at first. Men like Yuan Chonghuan, Lu Xiangsheng, and Zhu Youjian... Wang Cheng'en had once been the same, scoffing at the notion that the Ming’s mandate was exhausted. Those who said such things were either planning to rebel or already doing so. A rebel’s words were naturally biased; how could one expect any truth from them?

But now...

Watching as two Ming supreme commanders, four regional commanders, and an army of 180,000 descended into chaos without even fighting a single battle, Wang Cheng'en felt a genuine sense that the Ming’s time had indeed run out.

A person’s life has its end, and a sword, once drawn, will eventually rust... There is no such thing as an eternal dynasty.

Perhaps Wang Cheng'en had been lost in thought for too long, as the other eunuchs began to cast glances his way, seemingly probing for information.

Seeing this, Wang Cheng'en replied indifferently, "A military report has arrived from Henan. Is there anyone who wishes to deliver it to His Majesty for review on my behalf?"

Upon hearing this, the other eunuchs immediately averted their eyes, all feigning diligence and consideration. "Eunuch Wang, you are the Emperor’s trusted advisor; how would I dare to interfere with such a task?"

Whether a report from Henan was good or bad rarely required opening the seal; one only had to look at the expression of the courier. If it were a victory report, no matter how composed a high-ranking eunuch might be, the courier—having received a reward—would inevitably leave with a joyful smile. Now, with Wang Cheng'en looking so grim, no one wanted to inherit such bad luck.

Wang Cheng'en was about to make a sarcastic remark when he saw his foster son, Feng Xin, hurrying toward him, causing him to raise an eyebrow. As expected, Feng Xin whispered a few words, and Wang Cheng'en’s expression turned hesitant. After a moment of thought, Wang Cheng'en whispered, "If that is the case... go and intercept that man’s memorial immediately..."

Having said this, Wang Cheng'en left the Directorate and met a eunuch waiting in the corridor with a smile—Si En.

***

In the Qianqing Palace, Zhu Youjian let out a long sigh and stretched.

The weather was growing warmer, and the Manchu invaders, having fully digested their spoils, apparently had no intention of expanding the war and had withdrawn to the east, showing no sign of further aggression for the time being.

As for the Central Plains, Zhu Youjian had done everything he could. He had repeatedly issued strict orders for Ding Qirui to leave the city and suppress the rebels, and had sent Hou Xun south with 200,000 taels of silver—funds he had specially allocated—to reward the army. In Zhu Youjian's view, these arrangements were the absolute limit of his efforts... or rather, he had no more cards left to play.

All that remained was to wait for the fast couriers to bring reports from Henan to the capital. With the burden of the two great wars in Henan and Liaodong temporarily lifted, Zhu Youjian felt a rare sense of lightness. In recent days, his pale and sickly complexion had even begun to show a hint of color.

As Zhu Youjian set aside a memorial, Empress Zhou, who had been standing behind the screen for some time, walked over with a gentle smile, carrying a bowl of refreshing lotus seed soup. "Your Majesty, I have prepared some lotus seed soup. Please, have a taste to soothe your heart."

Zhu Youjian smiled faintly. "You’ve worked hard, Empress. After reviewing memorials all morning, I am indeed a bit weary. Very well, I shall have a taste."

Seeing the Chongzhen Emperor so appreciative, the Empress’s smile deepened. But soon, she noticed the Emperor stop after only a few bites.

"Wang Cheng'en, what are you doing lurking behind the door?" Zhu Youjian frowned, his sharp eyes catching the sleeve of a robe appearing and disappearing outside the door.

"I shall go get another bowl for Your Majesty," the Empress said, her expression remaining unchanged; she was clearly accustomed to such scenes.

No sooner had the Emperor spoken than Wang Cheng'en, with a strained smile, scrambled into the Qianqing Palace, knelt, and said, "Your Majesty... a military report has arrived from Henan. It is quite urgent..."

"Oh?" Zhu Youjian’s eyes flickered, but he continued to eat the soup. "If it is an urgent report, why are you still standing there like a fool?"

"Read it!"