Imperial Study.
The Chongzhen Emperor, Zhu Youjian, sat beneath the hanging lamps, a stack of memorials spread before him like a battlefield after defeat.
His face was dark. Not the theatrical darkness of anger, but the exhausted, sinking darkness of a man who had lost the habit of hope.
The rebels in Shanxi were no longer merely rebelling.
They were devouring the land.
Aside from the narrow corridor linking Puzhou, Hejin County, and Pingyang Prefecture—desperately held together by the pacified bandit Xing Honglang—the rest of Shanxi had already been torn apart. Villages burned, granaries emptied, roads severed. Fires of war bloomed everywhere, red as open wounds.
The Governor of Shanxi, Song Tongyin, had long since retreated into Taiyuan, clinging to the city walls like a man hugging a plank in floodwaters. Beyond Taiyuan, nearly half the province lay at the mercy of rebels.
Zhu Youjian slammed a memorial onto the table.
"Where is Cao Wenzhao?" he demanded sharply. "What is Cao Wenzhao doing?"
Chief Eunuch Cao Huachun stepped forward at once, head lowered. "Cao Wenzhao is currently suppressing bandits in northern Shaanxi. The rebel Bu Zhan Ni led tens of thousands from seven different bands, crossed the river, and returned to Shaanxi. Cao Wenzhao is locked in a prolonged stalemate with them."
Zhu Youjian's brows knit tighter. "The White Pole Soldiers from Sichuan?"
Cao Huachun replied cautiously, "Their numbers are too small, and provisions are insufficient. At present, they can only maneuver along the line between Daling County, Puxian, and Pingyang Prefecture—constant fighting, constant retreat. The troops are utterly exhausted."
Zhu Youjian pressed on, voice growing colder. "And the Grand Commander of Shanxi, Wang Guoliang?"
"He is defending Taiyuan with all his strength."
Silence fell.
The emperor stared at the memorials, then at nothing at all.
For a long moment, Zhu Youjian said nothing. His thoughts seemed to stall, like a cart stuck in mud. Finally, he exhaled sharply.
"So," he said, voice hollow, "are you telling Me that not one of My mighty Ming generals can fight—every last one of them inferior to a pacified bandit?"
Cao Huachun hesitated, then cleared his throat. "Well… Xing Honglang simply has more troops."
Zhu Youjian's eyes flicked up.
Cao Huachun continued carefully, "Back when she was still a bandit, she accumulated considerable wealth and manpower. At present, she commands five thousand elite soldiers. By comparison… Cao Wenzhao has only three thousand. The White Pole Soldiers number three thousand. Wang Guoliang has merely two thousand five hundred."
"Five thousand…" Zhu Youjian repeated.
His expression twisted into something almost grotesque.
As emperor, he could not curse aloud.
But the thought was written plainly on his face.
After a long pause, he muttered bitterly, "Indeed. Rebels always seem to have troops appear out of thin air. As if the heavens themselves are issuing them soldiers."
Seeing his mood darken further, Cao Huachun hurried to console him. "Your Majesty, not all is bleak. There are capable officers among the imperial forces. Under Wang Cheng'en, the Grand Commander of Shaanxi, there are two thousand-household commanders of exceptional valor."
"Oh?" Zhu Youjian glanced up. "Who?"
"One is named Shi Jian, the other Wang Xiaohua. At present, one defends Pingyang Prefecture, the other guards the bridgehead at the Dragon Gate Yellow River Bridge. They have repelled repeated rebel attacks and rendered notable service."
"The Dragon Gate… Yellow River Bridge?" Zhu Youjian frowned. The words sounded strange to his ears. "Since when does the Yellow River have a bridge?"
Cao Huachun replied, "According to reports from below, an immortal constructed a colossal bridge spanning the Yellow River. Vast, magnificent, awe-inspiring—"
"Absurd!" Zhu Youjian scoffed. "What nonsense are these memorials feeding Me now?"
Cao Huachun coughed lightly. "Your Majesty knows how officials exaggerate. Take Shi Jian's memorial—he claims he charged into the enemy ranks alone, fought in and out three times, and had over two jin of arrows removed from his body afterward. He also happens to be the one stationed at the so-called Dragon Gate Bridge."
Zhu Youjian snorted. "I understand now. This 'Dragon Gate Bridge' is nothing more than a chain or rope stretched between banks, anchoring a pontoon bridge or raft. As for Shi Jian's achievements—half of them are surely inflated."
"Most likely," Cao Huachun agreed at once.
Zhu Youjian rubbed his temples.
He was angry. He was weary. But in the end, even exaggerated merit was still merit.
Better to have someone boasting of victories than no victories to boast of at all.
If officers who could fight were rewarded, those who could not would be forced to reflect—or be replaced.
At last, Zhu Youjian straightened. "Draft an edict."
Cao Huachun immediately dipped his brush.
"Xing Honglang, Shi Jian, and Wang Xiaohua have rendered meritorious service and deserve reward. Order the Ministry of War to examine their records and propose appropriate promotions."
He paused, then continued coldly, "As for the Governor of Shanxi, Song Tongyin—he has failed to suppress the bandits and ease Our worries. Dismiss him from office and send him home."
His voice hardened.
"Those with merit shall be rewarded. Those without ability shall be punished. Let this distinction be clear, so all civil and military officials take heed."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Cao Huachun began writing rapidly.
Just then, a young eunuch rushed in, nearly stumbling as he knelt. "Your Majesty! An urgent secret dispatch from the Jinyiwei!"
Zhu Youjian's heart skipped.
An urgent Jinyiwei dispatch could only mean blood.
He took the letter at once and read it carefully. As he did, his expression changed—shock first, then anger, then something colder and heavier.
The report was from Shi Kefa.
Though only a hereditary Jinyiwei centurion, Shi Kefa's lineage was impeccable. His family had served the Jinyiwei for generations, loyal to the imperial house without blemish. His rank might be low, but his credibility was absolute.
The report stated clearly:
The Prince of Qin's estate had dispatched death-sworn agents to attack government transport convoys.
One had been captured alive.
And he had confessed.
Zhu Youjian felt as though the floor had dropped out beneath him.
Cao Huachun, having finished drafting the edict, could not help but glance at the letter. Sweat slid slowly down his back.
"Your Majesty…" he whispered. "This… what is to be done?"
Zhu Youjian let out a low, heavy grunt. "The Prince of Qin's estate has become utterly lawless."
Cao Huachun swallowed. "Shall we… move against them?"
Zhu Youjian shook his head—slowly, firmly.
"We cannot touch them."
The words hung in the air.
For generations, the Ming emperors had carried a quiet guilt toward the Prince of Qin's estate.
First, to consolidate imperial authority, the emperors had stripped the Prince of Qin of military power, reducing his tens of thousands of troops to a mere five hundred personal guards. Compensation had followed—land, stipends, indulgence.
Second, the matter of succession.
The Ministry of Rites had delayed the confirmation of the Prince of Qin's heir for decades—since the Wanli era. Civil officials feared land accumulation, so they stalled endlessly. Emperors repeatedly issued edicts to rebuke them, yet the issue remained unresolved even into Chongzhen's reign.
The imperial family had wronged the Prince of Qin.
Zhu Youjian spoke slowly, each word weighed down by history. "If We make an example of the Prince of Qin over this matter, the other princes will grow fearful and resentful. How shall We face Our ancestors in the afterlife?"
Cao Huachun hesitated. "But… this time, there is a living captive. The civil officials will not let this pass."
Zhu Youjian frowned deeply. Time passed. Then, with a weary sigh, he said, "Draft another edict."
Cao Huachun stiffened.
"Instruct Shi Kefa to escort the captive to the capital… and arrange for him to be silenced along the way."
Cao Huachun's breath caught.
"I will personally write an edict," Zhu Youjian continued, voice flat, "severely admonishing the Prince of Qin's estate. I will scold Zhu Cunji harshly, command him to restrain himself, and let this matter be buried."
Cao Huachun whispered, "Your Majesty… the civil officials will accuse you once again of tyranny."
Zhu Youjian waved his hand dismissively. "Let them curse."
His eyes were cold.
"Beyond scolding, those civil officials are useless. Do you think We fear their words?"
And thus, the decision was made.
That very night, Zhu Youjian personally penned an imperial edict—its language fierce, its rebuke merciless—commanding Zhu Cunji to behave properly, cease his provocations, and stop stirring trouble.
Otherwise…
Even the emperor himself would no longer be able to protect him.