Chapter Twelve: The Imperial Army of Great Shun!

In front of the Imperial Pole Hall.

Zhu Youjian gazed at the ever-growing piles of gold and silver, mountains of precious metals rising beneath the grandeur of the palace, land deeds and slave contracts scattered across the marble floor, stunned by the spectacle’s sheer scale.

“These damned civil officials! No wonder they'd rather surrender to rebels than leave the capital!”

According to the rough estimates from the Embroidered Uniform Guards, the confiscated wealth amounted to over forty million taels, and that was with more than half the officials yet to be investigated.

Such staggering sums, monopolizing more than a tenth of the empire’s wealth, were unparalleled even in the annals of global history.

Yet Zhu Youjian felt no concern. Without these nobles, and with the execution of these officials, both capitals and the thirteen provinces of Ming would grind to a halt.

The scholars of the Chongzhen era were either fearful or indignant, unwilling to enter the capital for official posts, but that mattered little; the Hongwu and Jianwen reigns had no shortage of frustrated, capable ministers.

Especially under the high-pressure rule of the Grand Ancestor in the Hongwu era, those officials would have gladly paid to work in the palace.

“External support remains external; the fate of the Chongzhen dynasty is still turbulent. It seems only true gold and silver will restore the morale of the army and the people.” Zhu Youjian pondered quietly.

When the confiscations were complete, at least several tens of millions, perhaps even hundreds of millions of taels would be gathered. Even forcibly distributed, such wealth could feed the people of several provinces for two years.

No measure to boost confidence among the populace was as effective as placing gold and silver directly in their hands.

As for the outside, there was no need for concern. As long as Chongzhen lived, Wu Sangui guarding Shanhai Pass would not turncoat to the Qing. When the armies of Hongwu and Jianwen were ready to march, the Manchus and Tartars would be destroyed with a mere snap of the fingers.

Once the fortunes of the Chongzhen reign stabilized, new realms would open: Yongle, Hongxi, Xuande... How could there be any shortage of talented ministers?

“During the Xuande era, the Cricket Emperor Zhu Zhanji’s cabinet was the Three Yangs: Yang Shiqi, Yang Rong, Yang Pu.”

“In the Zhengde era, the Leopard House’s master Zhu Houzhao had Wang Shouren governing the two provinces of Guangdong and Guangxi, and Li Dongyang, Yang Tinghe and his son as chief cabinet ministers.”

“In the Jiajing era, the earnest immortal emperor Zhu Houcong…”

“Looking across sixteen dynasties, talent flourishes everywhere.”

Thus, Zhu Youjian executed nobles and officials without hesitation, showing no mercy—more ruthlessly than even the Grand Ancestor.

…

The Zhang Residence

Within the pavilions and waterside terraces, a secret chamber lay hidden.

“Madness, utter madness!”

“What are we to do? The city gates are guarded by those soldiers. No amount of silver can get us out; the mansion is sealed off—this mad emperor is truly insane!” Yang Rucheng, Vice Minister of the Ministry of Rites, paced anxiously, his expression frantic.

Ye Chuchun, Vice Minister of the Ministry of Works, sighed deeply, worry etched on his face. “Our spies report that the mad emperor has executed Zhou Kui by slow slicing—a thousand cuts before he died! What does he intend, to drag us, his trusted ministers, down with him?”

Zhang Jinyan took a deep breath and decided, “Enough, we cannot sit and wait for death. Nearly half the nobles and officials in the city have been slaughtered; surely the rest are furious and terrified. Quickly, dismiss the spies and go rally the household troops and retainers of our fellow dignitaries!”

“Inform them: in three quarters of an hour, we Eastern Grove gentlemen will set the capital ablaze to create chaos. They must flee in the confusion—even if they have to force their way out, they must break through a city gate!”

“Once outside, we must present ourselves before the ruler of Great Shun and denounce this mad emperor. Flaying him alive and slicing him a thousand times would not suffice to vent our anger and right the injustices!”

“Brother Zhang, you are a man of great righteousness! We shall act at once!”

Yang Rucheng and Ye Chuchun, suddenly inspired, showered Zhang Jinyan with praise.

Soon, as spies scurried from mansion to mansion among the ministers, the capital became tense and fearful.

When a fire broke out at the foot of the imperial city, it was as if fuel had been poured on flames; chaos erupted.

“Where are you headed, sir?”

“I’ve bribed a few soldiers at Zhengyang Gate; I’ll slip out in the confusion and pay respects to the new ruler. Perhaps I’ll secure a post!”

“Your foresight is admirable, sir. May I accompany you?”

“Minister Wu, your defection is wise—you're one of us. No reason we shouldn’t go together. But... what are you doing, Minister Wu?”

“Take him to the imperial prison and await orders!” Wu Mengming waved his hand. From the shadows, several Embroidered Uniform Guards emerged and seized the man on the spot.

“The old man doesn’t know his history. He really thinks a bit of silver will buy him Hongwu soldiers—he clearly underestimates the Grand Ancestor’s majesty!” Wu Mengming sneered. These men truly were mad: to escape, they tried bribing the soldiers of Hongwu.

When the officers saw a chest of silver appear in the tent, they were so frightened they rushed, silver in hand, to report to the palace without delay.

“Those troublemakers must have already appeared before the emperor. I must hurry there myself, before others claim the credit!” Wu Mengming calculated the time, gathered dozens of Embroidered Uniform Guards, and headed for the city gate.

…

Desheng Gate

During the Zhengtong era, after the Tumu Fortress disaster, the capital defense battle broke out during the Ming dynasty’s peak!

Minister Yu Qian, then Minister of War, stood at this gate and, singlehandedly, rallied the civil and military officials, soldiers, and people of the capital, saving the Ming dynasty and extending its life for two centuries.

Now

Zhu Youjian stood atop the city wall, hands clasped behind him, coldly regarding the Minister of War of two centuries hence, Zhang Jinyan, and found the scene deeply ironic.

Below, Zhang Jinyan cursed, “I am the Minister of War of this dynasty, acting under imperial orders. You are all under my command—disobey and you will be punished!”

“Sir, without imperial orders, we truly cannot open the gates at will,” a Hongwu-era officer replied blandly.

“Insolence! The three of us are leaving the city under imperial orders—how dare you delay us? Open the gates at once!” Yang Rucheng shouted, feigning bravado.

Suddenly,

A chilling voice echoed from the wall, freezing them in place.

Zhu Youjian spoke coldly: “Ah, my dynasty’s officials command the soldiers of a previous era. The three of you truly wield remarkable authority!”

“Your... Your Majesty?!”

“We bow before Your Majesty! May you enjoy perfect health!”

The shouting ceased instantly. The three men, terrified and stupefied, dropped to their knees.

Unlike the Qing, the Ming did not require kneeling at every encounter with the emperor; their legs simply gave way from fear.

Zhu Youjian asked, “I hear my Minister of War is not on the court managing affairs, but is instead personally setting the capital ablaze and, with false orders, opening the gates to welcome the enemy?”

“Your Majesty, I am terrified!”

“False slander, treacherous words, Your Majesty!”

Yang Rucheng and Ye Chuchun, pale and trembling, prostrated themselves in terror.

“Death approaches, yet you refuse to repent. For setting fire in the city and breaking through mansion blockades—your households shall be confiscated, your clans exterminated!” Zhu Youjian’s tone was murderous.

“Tyrant! You will die a miserable death!” Zhang Jinyan, realizing he could not escape, shouted in anger: “Were it not for your misrule, your tyranny and slaughter of loyal subjects, we would not be in this plight!”

“The armies of Great Shun will breach the gates and destroy your ancestral foundation. The Ming dynasty will perish by your hand, and you, the emperor who lost the realm, will be reviled for generations, your name forever tainted—”

Bang!

Wu Mengming, his eyes bloodshot, rushed in and kicked Zhang Jinyan, silencing him. He quickly knelt and cried, “I am late, Your Majesty. I deserve death!”

“No, your timing is perfect. Bring Zhang Jinyan up to the wall,” Zhu Youjian replied with a cold laugh.

“As you command!”

Zhang Jinyan, dazed, was dragged up the wall. Fortunately, Wu had held back just enough; the kick stunned but did not cause lasting harm.

“Now, look upon your Great Shun army.”

Zhang Jinyan was slapped twice, awakening him. He opened his eyes and saw the vast army outside the gates, tens of thousands stretching beyond sight. Yet most were like wilted eggplants, stumbling under the Ming troops’ prodding.

Clearly, these were prisoners.

“Great Shun has been defeated?!”

Zhang Jinyan was dumbfounded, thunderstruck, and overcome with regret. He wailed, “Your Majesty, I deserve death! I must have been bewitched earlier—thanks to Minister Wu’s awakening blow, I now realize my terror. I beg to serve the Ming once more, even as a criminal, to offer what little I can!”

“Your Majesty, the same goes for me—the same for me!” Yang Rucheng and Ye Chuchun now regretted bitterly, wishing they could devour Zhang Jinyan alive. Had they known, remaining in their mansions might have offered a slim chance of survival.

But now...

…