Chapter Forty-Five: Return to the Capital

Iron-Blooded Ming

Purple Forbidden City.

The moment the news spread that Jining had fallen and the Grand Canal supply route was blocked, the entire imperial court erupted in chaos.

The Left Censor-in-Chief, Liu Zongzhou, was the first to step forward, memorializing, “Your Majesty, with the loss of Jining and the obstruction of the canal, the capital and the nine border garrisons will soon face famine. I believe we must immediately summon Liu Zeqing, Commander-in-Chief of Shandong, to the capital in shackles. Moreover, Chen Xinjia, who recommended Liu Zeqing for the post, must also be held accountable.”

Liu Zongzhou was known for his integrity and incorruptibility—this was indeed true. But an upright official is not always a good one! At times, a righteous man’s stubbornness can be more dangerous than the corruption of traitors or villains. In moments of crisis like this, such men are quick to demand accountability, never seeking first to resolve the pressing issues at hand.

The Chongzhen Emperor’s expression was dark and stormy; he remained silent.

Chen Xinjia turned deathly pale, not daring to utter a word in his own defense.

The Chongzhen Emperor was no longer the naive Prince Xin who had been placed upon the throne fourteen years ago. Then, in his youth, he had believed the empty promises of Yuan Chonghuan, who claimed he could pacify Liaodong in five years, and in a fit of rage, he had sent the backbone of Ming, Xiong Tingbi, to the distant frontiers.

But now, the Chongzhen Emperor would no longer be swayed by the words of any one man. He kept his thoughts to himself, waiting—waiting for some astute minister to divine his intentions and speak on his behalf.

The court fell into uneasy silence; all eyes turned to Cheng Jiming, the leading Grand Secretary.

Cheng Jiming lowered his head, unsure of the emperor’s mind and unwilling to speak rashly.

Finally, Zhou Yanru, the deputy Grand Secretary, stepped forward and presented his memorial: “Your Majesty, Jining commands the vital artery of the Grand Canal, and this concerns the very fate of our nation. The urgent priority is to swiftly muster heavy forces from the nine border garrisons to suppress the rebels, reclaim the lost territory, and restore the supply route.”

The Chongzhen Emperor nodded lightly. Only Zhou Yanru among all the officials truly understood his mind.

The stone in Chen Xinjia’s heart finally dropped. Although the emperor had not been angry during yesterday’s secret audience—merely sternly rebuking him for deploying troops—no one could be certain what would happen at court today. If the ministers had unanimously called for his censure, it was hard to say if the emperor would protect him. His Majesty’s thoughts were growing more inscrutable by the day.

“Chen Xinjia.” The emperor’s stern gaze fell upon him. “Did you hear what Minister Zhou just said?”

“Your Majesty,” Chen Xinjia hurriedly stepped out and knelt before the vermilion stair, reporting, “I have already dispatched troops to Shandong. Jining will be recovered and the canal cleared in a matter of days.”

“A report—urgent dispatch from Jining!”

No sooner had he spoken than a young eunuch rushed into the hall, holding aloft a dispatch. Wang Cheng’en, the chief eunuch, hurried to receive it. The emperor impatiently waved his hand. “Read it!”

“As you command.” Wang Cheng’en bowed, opened the dispatch, and read in a high, clear voice, “Your subject, Wang Pu, General-in-Chief of Datong, humbly reports to Your Majesty…”

Wang Cheng’en, ever shrewd, paused deliberately at this point.

All eyes in the court snapped to him—even the emperor rose from his seat in anticipation. “Quick, read on!” he urged.

Wang Cheng’en cleared his throat and continued, “With five thousand troops, your subject fought for three days and nights, utterly defeating the fifty-thousand-strong coalition of White Lotus and bandit armies, slaying over ten thousand. The remnants of the White Lotus scattered at the news, and Jining has been retaken. The canal is open! May Your Majesty set your mind at ease regarding the state’s vital supply lines. Your subject, Wang Pu, General-in-Chief of Datong, bows in gratitude.”

“Jining has been retaken?”

“The canal is open again!”

“Five thousand regulars defeated a fifty-thousand-strong alliance of White Lotus and bandits?”

“And slew over ten thousand! No one compares to General Wang!”

The hall erupted in whispers. Even the Chongzhen Emperor’s face was flushed with excitement—a rare sight. One thought filled his mind: Wang Pu truly had the art of war in his hands! He was a pillar of the nation, bestowed by Heaven upon the Ming.

Yet, the emperor’s worries only deepened. Wang Pu was simply too capable—far beyond what he had imagined. And he was not a civil official who had risen through the imperial examinations, but a military commander from the border garrisons…

Shandong, Jining.

Huang Degong had ultimately failed to catch up with the Red Lady and the White Lotus leader, so Wang Pu ordered the secret tunnel destroyed.

After three days stationed in Jining, Liu Zeqing, the Commander-in-Chief of Shandong, arrived in haste with five hundred cavalry. He had been closely watching the situation, and upon hearing of Wang Pu’s victory, rushed back to claim a share of the credit. He had little talent for command, but when it came to taking credit, he was unmatched.

Unfortunately for him, Wang Pu was no easy mark. He had already sent a dispatch to the capital, exaggerating the results fivefold. Whatever credit Liu Zeqing hoped for, he would find only scraps to fight over.

Wang Pu was a man from another world, and Zhen Youcai had long lived beyond the border. Neither truly understood the treacherous waters of Ming officialdom. In the present court, too much merit was not always a blessing! Still, both men strove with all their might to win victories for the emperor and the dynasty.

After handing over defense of Jining to Liu Zeqing, Wang Pu led his troops toward the capital. Passing through Dongchang Prefecture, they were again harried by White Lotus bandits, but these were mere raids—insufficient to threaten Wang Pu’s main force.

The journey was otherwise uneventful. Half a month later, they reached Tongzhou, where three thousand capital troops, sent by Minister of War Chen Xinjia, had been waiting for some time. These three thousand should have gone to Jining to assist Wang Pu, but the commander, fearful of the White Lotus, had refused to advance beyond Tongzhou.

The naval fleet docked at the port. Chang Yanling and Li Zushu were overseeing two thousand Embroidered Guards, busily unloading supplies. From here to the capital, river transport was no longer needed, and Huang Degong’s fleet, being an out-of-town force, was forbidden by Ming law from entering the capital. At Tongzhou, they would have to return to Nanjing.

On the dock, Huang Degong was bidding a reluctant farewell to Wang Pu.

“General, we have reached Tongzhou, and the capital troops have arrived. My task is complete—I must return to Nanjing to report to Minister Shi,” Huang Degong said.

Wang Pu solemnly handed him a ronin’s sword. “Vice General Huang, I know you care nothing for riches, but please accept this blade. I extorted it from the King of Joseon—consider it a token of my regard. If you refuse, you insult me.”

Huang Degong accepted the sword with a hearty laugh. “Then I shall accept it with thanks.”

Wang Pu clapped him on the shoulder. “Take care!”

“General, take care,” Huang Degong replied, bowing deeply, before striding away without a backward glance.

At some point, Zhen Youcai had sidled up to Wang Pu and whispered, “General, the man is truly a master, both at leading men and in battle.”

“You see it too?” Wang Pu asked softly.

“I do,” Zhen Youcai nodded. “The men of Jiangnan are weak, and their garrisons are useless—but the three thousand sailors under him are a pack of tigers and wolves!”

Qianqing Palace.

The Chongzhen Emperor was reviewing memorials when Wang Cheng’en hurried in, knelt, and announced breathlessly, “Your Majesty, he’s here! He’s here!”

“Who is here?” The emperor did not look up from his documents. “You’re practically giddy.”

Wang Cheng’en caught his breath. “General Wang—Wang Pu, General-in-Chief of Datong, has arrived.”

“Is that so?” The emperor’s delight was clear as he sprang to his feet. “Where is he now?”

“He has passed Tongzhou and will soon be outside Guangqu Gate,” Wang Cheng’en replied with a fawning smile.

“Draft an edict at once,” the emperor commanded. “Wang Pu and his men are to camp outside Guangqu Gate. The Five-Military Command shall make all arrangements for their quarters and provisions—no mistakes will be tolerated.”

“As you command,” said Wang Cheng’en, delighted.

“Also, have the Hall of Supreme Harmony refurbished. Tomorrow at noon, I will receive Wang Pu there.”

“The Hall of Supreme Harmony?” Wang Cheng’en was momentarily taken aback, but quickly recovered. “At once, Your Majesty.”

The Hall of Supreme Harmony was the grandest structure in the Forbidden City; only coronations, the investiture of the empress, princes, or on great festivals such as New Year’s or the Winter Solstice were ceremonies held there. Usually, the emperor received officials in the antechambers—this time, breaking with custom, he chose the Hall of Supreme Harmony, showing how much importance he placed on this audience.

But Wang Cheng’en understood. It was less about honoring Wang Pu and more about demonstrating Ming’s might to Huang Taiji, the Manchu khan. Since the troubles in Liaodong, the great empire had been battered by the Jurchen upstarts, and the emperor had long yearned for a moment of glory. Now that the opportunity had finally come, he was determined to showcase Ming’s grandeur in the most resplendent hall of all.