Chapter Thirty-Three: The Eight Beauties of Qinhuai

Let us turn again to Wang Pu.

After leaving Suzhou, he traveled by water for three days and nights until he finally arrived in Nanjing.

Nanjing, also known as Jinling, is a city where tigers crouch and dragons coil, commanding the grandeur of the south of the Yangtze. Eastern Wu, Eastern Jin, and the Southern Dynasties of Song, Qi, Liang, and Chen all made this their capital in succession; these are the six dynasties referenced by the phrase “the glittering elegance of Six Dynasties.” If we add the later Southern Tang, Southern Song, Ming, and the Republic of China, it becomes truly the ancient capital of ten dynasties—a city with a long and storied history.

Mention of Jinling inevitably brings up the Qinhuai River, and to speak of the Qinhuai River is to recall the Eight Beauties of Qinhuai. The so-called Eight Beauties were Liu Rushi, Li Xiangjun, Dong Xiaowan, Li Shiniang, Chen Yuanyuan, Gu Mei, Kou Baimen, and Bian Yu Jing—eight renowned courtesans of southern operatic tradition who lived during the transition from Ming to Qing.

In the late Ming era, the courtesans of Jiangnan fell into two categories. One consisted of those who traded in flesh—prostitutes in the modern sense, known as the “Northern School.” The other comprised the “Southern School,” or “Old School,” who sold only their talents, not their bodies—essentially the celebrities of the performing arts, yet far more versatile and accomplished than today’s stars.

Liu Rushi and her peers were such accomplished artists—they could write poetry and paint, sing and dance, combining beauty and talent in equal measure.

Among the scholars of Ming-era Jiangnan, socializing with courtesans was considered a refined pastime. Friends gathering would often invite several famed Southern School courtesans for company; the women themselves enjoyed associating with such scholars, who could advertise them through their poetry, paintings, writings, and reputations.

It was, in essence, a transaction: the courtesans offered wit and artistry to entertain the scholars, who in turn promoted them with praise. Sadly, many of these courtesans failed to recognize the arrangement for what it was, and would often invest genuine emotion into these relationships, only to be left disappointed.

By the end of the Ming, most scholars were skilled in empty eloquence and evasion of responsibility, preferring debates and mutual slander over action. This was not an isolated phenomenon, but a pervasive trait of the time. Under the twisted influence of Cheng-Zhu Neo-Confucianism and the rigid examination system, the values and outlooks of late Ming scholars were utterly distorted.

Nanjing.

Outside the Chaoyang Gate, all the officials from the Six Ministries, the Censorate, the Imperial College, and the Yingtian Prefecture, along with the city’s nobility and gentry, had already assembled, lining up to welcome Wang Pu on his triumphant return. The Chongzhen Emperor had decreed that Wang Pu be honored as an Imperial Envoy, so naturally none of Nanjing’s officials dared to neglect the occasion.

What is an Imperial Envoy?

Even a mere groom, once granted the title of Imperial Envoy, became the Emperor’s representative—as if the Emperor himself were present. Who would dare not attend the welcome?

Upon hearing the news, the gentry and commoners of Nanjing also flocked to the Chaoyang Gate, eager to glimpse the style and bearing of Wang Pu, the General of Datong. More than anything, they wished to see whether the captive barbarian leader Huang Taiji was truly as the stories claimed—ten feet tall, with eyes as large as bells, and able to tear tigers and leopards apart with his bare hands.

Among the common folk, storytellers described Nurhaci and his son Huang Taiji in just such fantastical terms.

By midday, a great procession finally appeared on the distant road. The hundreds of thousands of Nanjing citizens waiting outside the gate burst into thunderous cheers, shaking the very hills.

Wang Pu, leading from horseback at the forefront, was astonished by the sea of people outside the city. Was it truly necessary to make such a grand spectacle over the capture of Huang Taiji?

What Wang Pu did not realize was this: since the Battle of Sarhu, the Ming armies had suffered defeat after defeat. The soldiers and people of the Ming Empire had been so cowed by the very name of the Manchu that this victory—storming Shengjing and capturing Huang Taiji alive—was like lifting a great weight from their chests. The joy that erupted after such prolonged despair could only be described as frenzied.

This was the reason for the rapturous welcome Wang Pu had received from Songshan to Nanjing; even Redfoot Zhang San, the notorious pirate of Lake Tai, sincerely considered Wang Pu a true hero!

Chang Yanling and Li Zushu hung back by a few paces, giving Wang Pu and his group the place of honor. The men riding behind Wang Pu—Zhen Youcai, Scarface, Little Seven, and the rest—were so moved they trembled all over. Scarface, tears in his eyes, choked out, “General, if only all the bearded ones were still with us, how wonderful that would be!”

Wang Pu nodded solemnly. “We will never forget the Bearded One, nor all the brothers who did not live to return to Ming soil. Today’s glory belongs to them—it was bought with their lives.”

At that moment, He Xiongxiang, Minister of Rites in Nanjing—a position that ranked above the Ministry of Personnel and below only the Ministry of War—along with Zhao Zhilong, the Nanjing Commander-in-Chief and Marquis of Xincheng, came forward with the assembled dignitaries to greet Wang Pu. Hastily, Wang Pu dismounted and exchanged formal courtesies with the principal officials.

Ordinarily, as a mere general, Wang Pu would never be accorded the honor of being greeted by such high officials or the nobility, nor would they wait outside the gate for him. But three days earlier, an imperial edict from the Chongzhen Emperor had conferred upon Wang Pu the title of Imperial Envoy—a status of incomparable distinction.

Supported by two minor officials, He Xiongxiang, carrying a wine jug, carefully approached Wang Pu and said respectfully, “General Wang, your military genius led you to strike at the heart of the enemy and capture their leader alive, greatly boosting the morale of our imperial troops. On behalf of the millions in the southern capital, I offer you this cup.”

A servant took the cup, and once He Xiongxiang had filled it, presented it to Wang Pu.

Wang Pu accepted the cup, turned to face the northeast—toward Liaodong—and spoke with solemnity, “I wish to borrow this cup from Lord He to honor all the Ming soldiers who fell on the Songshan front. Without the desperate struggle and sacrifice of those countless Ming soldiers, who drew the full force of the Manchu armies to Songshan, I could never have taken Shengjing, nor captured Huang Taiji alive.”

With that, Wang Pu solemnly poured the wine onto the ground.

He Xiongxiang refilled the cup, and Wang Pu, holding it aloft, continued gravely, “This second cup I offer to the countless millions of the Ming Empire, including the citizens of the southern capital. Without your frugality and sacrifice, pinching and saving every morsel to provide grain and pay for our border troops, we would never have achieved today’s victory!”

“Well said, splendidly said!” He Xiongxiang, visibly moved, replied, “General Wang, you are neither arrogant in merit nor haughty in high office—a rare virtue indeed! I have served in office for fifty years; though I have few achievements, I have never done anything to shame my conscience. I believe this clean pair of sleeves can represent the people of the southern capital. On their behalf, and for all the common people under heaven, I drink this cup!”

With that, He Xiongxiang drained the cup in one gulp.

Of all the dynasties of Ming, none was more cruel in its persecution of ministers by the emperor. Yet, precisely because the Ming was ruled by Han Chinese, it was also the era when ministers dared to speak most boldly, and when both loyal and treacherous officials flourished in great numbers. In short, the Ming was perhaps the most complex and baffling dynasty in China’s long feudal history.

Wang Pu honored the fallen border soldiers first, then the people of the empire, deliberately omitting any toast to the Chongzhen Emperor in Beijing. This greatly appealed to the likes of He Xiongxiang and other censors in Nanjing who championed the principle, “the people are most important, the ruler least.” As a result, he easily won their favor.

“Well spoken, Lord He—with such integrity, you truly represent all the people.”

Wang Pu led the applause, and soon everyone joined in. Then Wang Pu turned and waved his hand; the two columns of his retainers parted, and four squads of Imperial Guards swaggered forward, escorting four prison carts. Inside were Huang Taiji, Dai Shan, Hailanzhu, and Bumubutai.

The crowd of onlookers outside the gate exploded in wild jubilation.

Amid the thunderous cheers, He Xiongxiang gestured to Wang Pu, “General Wang, please.”

Wang Pu quickly returned the courtesy, “After you, Lord He. After you, gentlemen.”

He Xiongxiang and Zhao Zhilong walked to either side of Wang Pu, with the other officials following behind in sequence along the red carpet, the four prison carts bringing up the rear.

The citizens lining the road became frenzied, hurling whatever they could at the prison carts—eggs, tomatoes, anything in their hands. If not for the two lines of Imperial Guards holding them back, those uncontrollable crowds might well have swarmed the carts and torn the captives apart on the spot.

That afternoon, He Xiongxiang and the other officials hosted a banquet at the Ministry of Rites to welcome Wang Pu and wash away the dust of travel.

This was followed by three days of grand processions. Clad in the splendid “Generalissimo’s Robes,” a gift from the Chongzhen Emperor, Wang Pu led his retainers as they paraded Huang Taiji and Dai Shan through the city, receiving the cheers of Ming subjects who had come from miles around. For Wang Pu and his two hundred men, it was a hero’s triumph beyond their wildest dreams.