Chapter Sixty: Defending Wang Pu to the Death

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Outside the Guangqu Gate, at Wang Pu’s military camp.

Night had already fallen. Zhen Youcai was speaking quietly with Xiao Qi and A Mu when Scarface suddenly entered the command tent, his expression dark and thunderous. Xiao Qi immediately stood up and asked, “Scarface, any news?”

Scarface replied woodenly, “The retrial verdict on the Bearded Man has come down. He’s not a deserter. He’ll be released from prison tomorrow afternoon.”

“Who the hell was asking about the Bearded Man?” Xiao Qi snapped anxiously. “I meant the general!”

“The general!?” A wild, bestial glare flashed in Scarface’s eyes as he fixed his gaze on Zhen Youcai, growling, “There’s news about the general too. Tomorrow at noon, he and the captive chieftain will be taken to Caishikou… to be executed by slow slicing!”

“What?”

“Executed by slow slicing?”

Xiao Qi and A Mu were both stunned, and even Zhen Youcai drew in a sharp breath.

“Zhen Youcai, you damned bastard!” Scarface lunged forward and grabbed Zhen Youcai by the collar, cursing furiously, “This was all your rotten idea, all your rotten idea! I ought to strangle you right now, strangle you—”

As he spoke, Scarface spread his hands and throttled Zhen Youcai’s throat. Zhen Youcai, with his short, thin frame, was no match for Scarface’s brute strength. In moments, his eyes rolled back, and he was on the verge of suffocating. Xiao Qi and A Mu, still reeling from shock, failed to react.

At that moment, a gentle voice sounded from outside the tent. “Scarface, is what you said true?”

Scarface turned and, seeing it was Lady Chen Yuanyuan, immediately released his grip. Zhen Youcai seized the chance to cry out, “Madam, save me, save me—”

With a thud, Scarface landed a heavy fist on the back of Zhen Youcai’s head. Darkness closed over Zhen Youcai’s vision and he fell unconscious. Scarface tossed his limp body to A Mu as if he were a sack and barked, “A Mu, keep a close watch on this wretch. If we’re not back by tomorrow afternoon, cut him down.”

A Mu grunted his assent and dragged Zhen Youcai away.

“Scarface.” Lady Chen Yuanyuan asked again, “Is everything you said just now true?”

Scarface hung his head and replied gloomily, “Madam, it’s all true. The dog emperor’s decree has come down, and the notice has already been posted.”

Lady Chen Yuanyuan staggered, her graceful features suddenly drained of color.

Scarface and Xiao Qi both reached out instinctively to support her, but drew back their hands halfway. She shook her head gently, striving to compose her turmoil, and said to Xiao Qi, “Xiao Qi, may I ask a favor?”

“Madam, just say the word.”

“Could you help me purchase two coffins?” she said mournfully. “One must be made of the finest nanmu wood, the other, just plain pine will suffice.”

“Two coffins?” Xiao Qi was dumbfounded. “Madam, what do you mean by this?”

“The fine nanmu coffin is for my husband’s remains,” Lady Chen said softly, her beautiful eyes brimming with sorrow. “The simple pine coffin is for myself.”

Xiao Qi and Scarface were aghast. “Madam, you—”

Two streams of tears slid down her pale cheeks as she spoke in a voice heavy with grief. “If my husband is gone, I have no wish to live either. After tomorrow at noon, if he truly is no more, I must trouble you to lay us to rest together. I do not ask to be interred in the same grave as the general—only to be buried near him, not too far apart…”

Xiao Qi and Scarface were left speechless in the face of such despair.

“I must trouble you, then.” With that, Lady Chen Yuanyuan bowed deeply to both men and turned to leave.

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Watching Lady Chen Yuanyuan’s figure disappear into the darkness, Scarface gave a sudden snort and turned to go. Xiao Qi called after him, “Scarface, where are you going?”

“What do you think?” Scarface snapped, his face black with anger. “I’m gathering the brothers. We’re storming the Imperial Prison to break him out!”

“Scarface, come back here! For heaven’s sake, use your head!” Xiao Qi barked. “There are thousands of garrison troops outside the camp. How do you plan to get out? The gates of both the outer and inner city are shut. What can our two hundred-odd men possibly do—break down the city gates?”

“Why waste time talking?” Scarface retorted impatiently. “Either way, we fight!”

“Rushing in blindly will only get the brothers killed, not save the general,” Xiao Qi said heatedly.

“Then what do you suggest?” Scarface squatted on the ground, buried his head in his hands, and burst into tears. “By noon tomorrow, the general will be executed by slow slicing. We can’t just stand by and watch him die, can we?”

Xiao Qi said in a low voice, “We need to consult Master Zhen.”

“That wretch?” Scarface bellowed. “You still want to ask him? The general is in this mess because of that fool’s rotten ideas, and you want to listen to him?”

“What do you know?” Xiao Qi flared, “Master Zhen has been loyal to the general from Liaodong all the way to the capital. He would never harm him. Come on, let’s go see Master Zhen now.”

With that, Xiao Qi strode off, and Scarface, grumbling under his breath, reluctantly followed.

Meanwhile, in the cabinet, Grand Secretary Zhou Yanru had conveniently fallen ill these past few days.

But illness kept him from court, not from knowing everything that transpired in the halls of power. Every evening, his disciples and old retainers gathered at his residence to report the latest news. Tonight, as dusk had just fallen, Gong Dingnie, Wang Xiyan, and a host of others were already assembled at the grand secretary’s mansion.

“Grand Secretary,” Wang Xiyan reported, “His Majesty has approved the memorials of Liu Zongzhou and Li Banghua. Wang Pu has been sentenced to execution by dismemberment, and he’ll be taken to Caishikou for execution tomorrow at noon. Also, it looks like Chen Xinjia is about to meet with disaster as well.”

Gong Dingnie added, “Word is that Liu Zongzhou and Li Banghua, these so-called upright officials, are making a big issue of Wang Pu being Chen Xinjia’s protégé. They’ve listed eight capital charges and plan to impeach Chen Xinjia at tomorrow’s early court session. In my opinion, Chen Xinjia won’t escape this time.”

Zhou Yanru, however, dismissed their worries. “You’re all overestimating those so-called upright officials. They can’t sway His Majesty.”

Gong Dingnie asked, “Then what do you think, Grand Secretary?”

“In my view, this storm has already passed,” Zhou Yanru replied. “The three-judge tribunal has reached its conclusion—the Bearded Man was entirely framed by Zhao Wuzhu. That means Wang Pu’s act of defying the imperial edict and storming the execution ground can be explained, both emotionally and logically. Tomorrow at court, you will join me in submitting a joint memorial, petitioning His Majesty to pardon Wang Pu of all charges.”

“What?”

“But Wang Pu’s already been sentenced to death by dismemberment!”

“Grand Secretary, wouldn’t a joint petition at this time put us at odds with His Majesty?”

Wang Xiyan, Gong Dingnie, and the others exchanged bewildered glances, unable to guess the grand secretary’s intent.

Zhou Yanru smiled. “If His Majesty hadn’t already sentenced Wang Pu, I wouldn’t dare make such a prediction. But now that Wang Pu has been sentenced—and to the most brutal punishment, no less—I can confidently say that His Majesty is hinting to us, his ministers, that he’s ready to back down. He wants us to plead for Wang Pu at tomorrow’s court!”

“Oh, so that’s how it is.”

“Right, even if Wang Pu deserved death, execution by dismemberment is excessive—there’s more to this than meets the eye!”

“No one can match the grand secretary’s foresight!”

“If we submit a joint petition to save Wang Pu, not only do we align ourselves with His Majesty’s true intentions, but we also curry favor with both Wang Pu and Chen Xinjia. Two birds with one stone.”

Wang Xiyan, Gong Dingnie, and the rest were thoroughly impressed. The Chongzhen Emperor always left himself an escape route with his words and actions. Charitably, one could call this deep scheming; less charitably, it meant he was always ready to shift blame onto his ministers if things went awry. That’s why the ministers had to be meticulous in guessing his intentions—one misjudgment, and the consequences could be dire.

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In the art of reading the emperor’s mind, Zhou Yanru was undoubtedly an expert.

Qianqing Palace.

The Chongzhen Emperor finally finished reading the last memorial. Stretching long and wearily, he asked Wang Cheng’en, who stood at his side, “Cheng’en?”

Wang Cheng’en promptly bowed. “Your servant is here.”

“What hour is it now?”

“Sire, it is the fourth watch.”

“The fourth watch?” The emperor looked out at the pitch-black sky, his voice tinged with melancholy. “So it’s the fourth watch. Another new day.”

Wang Cheng’en dared not respond, well aware of what weighed on the emperor’s mind.

It was already the fourth watch. In four more hours, it would be noon, and at the third quarter of the hour, General Wang Pu would be led with the Manchu chieftain Hong Taiji to Caishikou for execution.

“Cheng’en,” the emperor said suddenly, “there’s something I want you to answer honestly.”

Wang Cheng’en replied with utmost respect, “Your servant obeys and will answer truthfully.”

The Chongzhen Emperor asked quietly, “In the matter of Wang Pu, have I made a mistake?”

Wang Cheng’en shook his head. “You have not, Sire.”

“Then are you saying Wang Pu is at fault?”

“Sire, Wang Pu is not at fault either.”

The emperor feigned puzzlement. “Then I don’t understand. Between Wang Pu and myself, one of us must be in the wrong—otherwise things wouldn’t have reached this point.”

Wang Cheng’en replied, “Sire, your insistence that Wang Pu divorce and remarry was from an emperor’s perspective, for the sake of the realm. That is not wrong. Wang Pu’s refusal to divorce his wife was the stance of a husband, unwilling to abandon his wife of humble origins. That is not wrong either. However… what Your Majesty insists upon is a matter of great consequence, while what Wang Pu clings to is of lesser importance. The two cannot be compared as equals.”

Wang Cheng’en’s words were not mere flattery. The emperor’s pressure on Wang Pu truly was for the sake of the dynasty. Wang Pu was a general of rare talent—so talented, in fact, that the emperor was uneasy about keeping him.

Wang Pu, with just a thousand cavalry, had razed Shengjing and captured Hong Taiji alive—a feat others wouldn’t even dare dream of, yet Wang Pu accomplished it with ease. The emperor could not help but wonder: if Wang Pu ever rebelled, might he not capture Beijing itself with his thousand horsemen?

Wang Pu, after all, was a man of the sword—not as loyal, in the emperor’s eyes, as the scholar-officials.

After days of Wang Pu’s defiance and his assault on the execution ground, the emperor, after his initial fury, now found himself reflecting on what Empress Zhou and Consort Tian had said: that Wang Pu was simply a straightforward and deeply loyal man. Such men, no matter how unruly, would never upend the heavens. And if Ruer could always be at his side, then surely there would be no trouble.

The emperor gazed at Wang Cheng’en for a long time, then sighed. “Ah, Cheng’en, you truly understand me best.”

Wang Cheng’en, a eunuch whose entire mind was bent on serving the emperor, could, without exaggeration, discern the emperor’s every mood and need. He could tell at a glance whether the emperor wished to relieve himself or something more. Naturally, he could also see into the emperor’s heart now, and offered comfort. “Sire, please rest assured. At this morning’s court, Grand Secretary Zhou will surely speak up to defend Wang Pu.”

The emperor nodded and murmured, “Let us hope so.”