Chapter 44: Eunuch Wang Zhen!
Zhu Yuanzhang's expression darkened as he pressed, "Grandson, tell me in detail—how did Zhu Qizhen, leading two hundred thousand elite troops, nearly bring our nation to ruin?"
"The commander was foolish. The Oirat leader, Esen, waited, then pursued with twenty thousand men. The Ming troops, exhausted, saw their two hundred thousand elites scatter in defeat," Zhu Youjian replied concisely.
Old Zhu Di, upon hearing the disparity in numbers, could not contain himself. He slammed the table and cursed, "Useless! Truly useless!"
Emperor Xuande, Zhu Zhanji, felt his heart pounding once again. Though his illness had improved, he still felt as if he hovered at death's door.
He glanced at Zhu Yuanzhang and Zhu Di, sensing that if he didn't speak, doom awaited him today.
Summoning his courage, Xuande asked, "Your Majesty Chongzhen, during the Yongle era, Oirat became a Ming vassal; since the Xuande reign, they have caused no trouble, dutifully offering tribute with no hint of rebellion. Why would they suddenly harass our borders? And how could their handful of troops dare pursue the Ming's two hundred thousand elite soldiers?"
"It was all that eunuch Wang Zhen's doing," Zhu Youjian sighed and shook his head.
After the founding of the Ming, Zhu Yuanzhang repeatedly led northern campaigns, utterly breaking the Northern Yuan and dividing it into three major tribes: Tartar, Oirat, and Uriankhai.
Later, Zhu Di, nominally emperor but in truth a grand general of the northern expeditions, campaigned against Mongolia five times, forcing Oirat to start paying tribute of cattle, sheep, and horses to Ming during the Yongle reign.
Zhu Di treated foreign tribes with courtesy; thus, when Oirat sent tribute, the court, to demonstrate its grandeur, bestowed generous rewards upon them.
In reality, it was akin to buying their livestock, maintaining the Ming's sovereign relations over the Oirat Mongols.
All was amicable; during the Hongxi and Xuande reigns, Oirat caused little trouble.
In the fourteenth year of the Zhengtong reign, the Oirat leader Esen sent over two thousand tribute horses to Ming.
By then, the court was dominated by the eunuch Wang Zhen, with even officials like the Vice Minister of Works shaving their beards, going so far as to say when Wang Zhen asked, "If the father doesn't keep a beard, how dare the son?"
Wang Zhen despised even the highest ministers, his arrogance towering above all, so how could he respect these foreign tribes?
So, as the Oirat dutifully waited for their customary rewards, Wang Zhen advised Zhu Qizhen not to bestow too much.
"Follow Master Wang's orders!"
Zhu Qizhen eagerly agreed.
As a result, the Oirat, after their arduous journey to present tribute—led by their chief, no less—received rewards so meager that even their travel costs weren't covered!
Who wouldn't feel slighted by such treatment?
Furious, Esen became restless, unable to sleep or eat for days, and upon returning home, began looking for reasons to stir up trouble.
Wang Zhen, for his part, had purposefully provoked this incident. He had power, wealth, everything—except fame.
Indeed, this wretch wanted to be remembered throughout history, to achieve everlasting glory.
Moreover, Zhu Qizhen had ascended the throne young and was inevitably naïve. He dreamed of glorious scenes like "mounting the horse to subdue the barbarians," envied the heroic conquests of Taizu and Taizong over the grasslands.
Wang Zhen, knowing Zhu Qizhen's heart, persuaded him to personally lead a campaign against Oirat when trouble erupted, to show them Ming's might.
Zhu Qizhen's eyes sparkled, his spirit soared.
"Follow Master Wang's orders!"
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In terms of strength, Oirat, though surpassing Tartar and Uriankhai, was no match for Ming, whose noble ranks remained strong and whose power far exceeded Oirat's.
A standard campaign would have rallied all support.
But Zhu Qizhen insisted on leading the army himself.
Others may have been unaware of his military abilities, but the regents Zhang Fu and Hu Ying knew all too well.
Upon hearing Zhu Qizhen's intention to personally command, ministers urged him to reconsider.
The Minister of War Kuang Ye and Minister of Personnel Wang Zhi firmly opposed his campaign, but could not dissuade him from risking his life.
Even the seventy-five-year-old Duke of England, Zhang Fu, struggled against age to volunteer to lead the northern expedition in Zhu Qizhen's stead.
Yet, under Wang Zhen's manipulation, Zhu Qizhen persisted in his resolve. In a centralized monarchy, an emperor's obstinacy is unstoppable.
Thus,
On the seventeenth day of the seventh month in the fourteenth year of Zhengtong,
Emperor Zhu Qizhen, accompanied by Wang Zhen and more than a hundred civil and military ministers, mobilized the three main armies of the capital—two hundred thousand elite troops—and departed in grand procession for the northern expedition!
Duke Zhang Fu, a veteran of four reigns, possessed vast experience, but Zhu Qizhen denied him any command authority and ignored his counsel.
He obeyed Wang Zhen alone.
But Wang Zhen had never fought a battle. He forced the two hundred thousand troops into a forced march, with no proper preparation of supplies or provisions. By the time the army reached Datong, they were nearly starving, with no energy left for fighting.
At this moment, news arrived from the front: the Oirat army had suddenly withdrawn north.
Zhang Fu sensed something amiss and personally reported to Zhu Qizhen in the main tent: "Your Majesty, not a single Oirat soldier remains north—this is very strange. If we advance further, we may fall into an ambush!"
Wang Zhen, hearing this, became furious. These old men were once again blocking his path to eternal fame, and he wished he could whip Zhang Fu and the others.
To show his supposed magnanimity, he merely scolded Zhang Fu and his peers.
He ordered the army to continue north.
At that moment,
The eunuch Guo Jing, guarding Datong, hurried to report to Wang Zhen: "Father, Oirat recently won a great victory in the north. Their morale is high—they would not withdraw so easily!"
"From the looks of it, north of Datong may be a trap set by Oirat. If we advance, Father, you might be in danger."
Guo Jing was Wang Zhen's trusted protégé, and his words immediately set off alarm bells in Wang Zhen's mind.
Suddenly fearful, Wang Zhen rushed to see Zhu Qizhen, analyzing the situation with great seriousness, and ultimately suggested, "Let us not fight. I am concerned for Your Majesty's safety!"
"Follow Master Wang's orders!"
Zhu Qizhen nodded repeatedly, and, heeding Wang Zhen's advice, immediately ordered a retreat.
Zhang Fu and the others felt relieved; at this point, returning to the capital would preserve the court's dignity.
But Wang Zhen had more tricks up his sleeve.
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Returning to the capital from Datong, there were two routes: west through Zijing Pass or east via Xuanfu. Wang Zhen was a native of Weizhou, and the western route passed through his hometown.
As the saying goes, riches unreturned to one's hometown are like wearing fine clothes at night.
Unable to achieve eternal fame, Wang Zhen settled for showing off before his fellow villagers, and ordered the army to return via Zijing Pass.
At this point, Oirat discovered the Ming army was retreating; their painstakingly laid trap was about to fail, and Esen was unwilling to let it go.
Under Esen's command, the Oirat army rushed south, hoping to catch up with the Ming forces.
Under normal circumstances, even if Oirat pushed themselves to the limit, they could not have overtaken the Ming army.
However, after covering most of the western route, Wang Zhen suddenly realized that two hundred thousand troops passing through Weizhou would trample his hometown's crops. His own people would curse him.
So he hurriedly ordered Zhu Qizhen to reroute the army east via Xuanfu.
Zhang Fu and the others pleaded, "From here, Zijing Pass is only forty li—why take the longer route?"
But Wang Zhen refused to listen, insisting on the change.
"Follow Master Wang's orders!"
Zhu Qizhen, always obliging Wang Zhen, ignored Zhang Fu and the others completely.
Thus,
Two hundred thousand Ming troops detoured, and by the time they reached Xuanfu, the Oirat had already caught up to the Ming army's rear.
Esen was stunned; he had meant only to give a token chase, never expecting to actually catch up.
His suspicious nature made him wonder if this was a Ming trap.
He did not attack, but waited.
When the scouts reported the situation, Zhu Qizhen was terrified, panicking and hurriedly sent Duke Cheng, Zhu Yong, with thirty thousand troops to cover the retreat.
But, rushed preparations and exhausted troops meant Zhu Yong's forces were no match for Oirat, and they were quickly defeated.
This confirmed to Esen that the Ming had laid no trap, filling him with confidence to strike boldly!
By the time Zhu Qizhen retreated to Tumubao, it was too late.
The Ming army fell into ambush again; weary and famished, they were herded by the well-rested Oirat army, their morale shattered and fighting spirit gone!
Two hundred thousand troops were swiftly routed, and the Ming soldiers' blood flowed like rivers.
...