MLMD -Chapter 365 A Sudden Withdrawal

Yang Guozhu and Hu Dawei had followed the army for more than ten—indeed, several dozen—years, and they were well aware of many of the sordid affairs within the court. Logically speaking, a county magistrate who abandoned his jurisdiction, deserted his city, and fled would, in the Hongwu or Yongli reigns, have had his head chopped off ten times over without the slightest injustice. But by the late Ming, the culture of officials shielding one another had grown far too entrenched. As long as an official did not infringe upon the interests of other officials, even if he committed wrongdoing, those handling the case would turn a blind eye, making big matters small and small matters disappear. After returning, that magistrate who had fled the city only needed to grease the palms both above and below; as long as the matter did not reach Zhu Youjian himself, his superiors would surely close one eye and let it pass. Such “everyone’s happy” maneuvering had always been the forte of the civil officials.

Thinking of this, Yang Guozhu and Hu Dawei could only feel helpless. They shook their heads and fell silent. The waters of the court were too deep and too murky—far beyond what rough military men like them could navigate.

Hu Dawei, being a blunt man and not knowing how to console others, could only pat Wang Xin on the shoulder and say, “At the very least, you’ve kept your life. That’s far better than those common folk who died under the Tatar blades.”

Wang Xin forced a bitter smile and sighed softly. “Yes. Compared to the brothers who died in battle, I’m already much luckier. What is there left to complain about? As for Magistrate Qian and the rest… let things be as they will.”

After comforting the defending officer, Yang Guozhu and Hu Dawei did not linger. Instead, they led their troops onward toward Liangxiang and Shunyi. Time was tight; they had no leisure to tarry in the small county of Deng.

Before long, the two men resumed their march with the army. What puzzled them, however, was that along the way they encountered very few Qing soldiers—and those they did see were almost all scouts. They never once ran into a large formation. This left them deeply perplexed, and with no other choice they reported the situation to Yue Yang in the rear.

“Huh… this really is strange. Where have all those Tatars gone?” Yue Yang muttered when he received the report.

He too was baffled. This time, the Qing troops who had entered the passes numbered as many as one hundred thousand. A hundred thousand men were not a hundred thousand rats—they could not simply vanish without a trace. What on earth was going on?

While Yue Yang was still pondering, another piece of news arrived from the front—one that truly shocked him. The Qing army had begun to withdraw. Numerous night scouts reported that Qing forces were steadily pulling back toward the Miyun and Huairou areas. They were retreating beyond the passes while carrying off large numbers of abducted people, along with grain, gold, and silver. To speed up their retreat, the Qing troops had even discarded some of their cumbersome equipment.

“What is Dorgon up to? Did he just grab a haul and run? That doesn’t seem like the Tatars’ style at all!” Yue Yang was now utterly confused by the Qing army’s actions. Judging by their past behavior, the Qing never withdrew until they were thoroughly sated—how had they suddenly changed their nature? Not only Yue Yang, but even the Qing soldiers who were happily plundering were somewhat at a loss.

At the Qing army’s temporary stronghold in Changping Prefecture, the city had been occupied twice by Qing forces within two years, and its people had been looted twice. The able-bodied men and women had either been slaughtered or carried off, leaving behind only a handful of old, weak, and sick who could not flee. Dorgon’s temporary headquarters was set up in what had once been the prefectural yamen, now tightly guarded by elite troops of the Plain Yellow Banner.

In the main hall—the largest building on the grounds—Dorgon sat upright at the center, with the Qing generals seated on either side. His attire differed from when he had been Prince Regent: now he wore a dragon robe, embroidered with true dragons on the front, back, and both sleeves—two on the chest and back, four marching dragons; two more on the shoulders; and one true dragon on each cuff. His bearing was indeed imposing. At this moment, the princes, beiles, and generals in the hall were arguing heatedly over the withdrawal order.

“Great Khan, we’ve been in Ming territory for less than half a month—why must we withdraw in such haste? The warriors haven’t plundered enough yet!” The one speaking was Ao Bai, his face full of defiance.

Ao Bai was no longer the minor company commander he had been five years earlier. He was now a banner commander of the Bordered White Banner, a figure of real importance in the Qing state. Dorgon had only recently ascended the throne, and his foundation was far from secure. Aside from the Plain Yellow, Bordered Yellow, and Plain Blue Banners under his control, only Dai Shan’s Plain Red and Bordered Red Banners supported him among the remaining Five Banners. The Plain White, Bordered White, and Bordered Blue Banners had instead banded together, advancing and retreating as one—something that greatly vexed Dorgon.

Seeing Ao Bai dare to oppose him so brazenly, a flash of killing intent passed through Dorgon’s eyes. He then spoke calmly, “Yesterday, our forward scouts sent back news. They discovered the presence of Xuan–Da troops around the capital. Does your Bordered White Banner have a company commander named Qi Hala? According to the scouts, he and over a thousand of his men were annihilated by the Xuan–Da army the day before yesterday. Moreover, news from the Ming capital says that the Chongzhen Emperor has ordered Yue Yang himself to lead a great army to relieve Beijing. Given this, tell me—could I possibly refrain from ordering a withdrawal?”

“This—”

As soon as Dorgon finished speaking, the hall erupted in uproar. Many Qing generals’ faces changed color at once. By now, from the emperor down to the generals, many in the Qing ranks had grown fearful at the mere mention of the name “Yue.” Hearing that Yue Yang was personally leading troops to the rescue immediately unsettled them all. Even Ao Bai, who had just stood out to question Dorgon’s command, could not help but pale slightly.

Observing the expressions below, Dorgon sneered inwardly. Ever since ascending the throne, he had tried to consolidate all military power into his own hands, but had been consistently resisted by some generals—especially those formerly of the Plain Yellow, Bordered Yellow, and Bordered Blue Banners. Having been demoted from the Upper Three Banners to the Lower Five, these men were full of resentment and habitually challenged Dorgon’s words at every turn.

Looking at Ao Bai’s altered expression, Dorgon said coolly, “Ao Bai, I know you think the Bordered White Banner hasn’t plundered enough. Very well—I’ll allow your banner to remain where it is for three more days before returning to Changping to rejoin the main force. What do you say?”

“What? Stay put for three days?” Ao Bai was stunned. Is this a trap? Another three days of plundering—if the Xuan–Da army encircled them, wouldn’t that be suicide?

Hot-tempered by nature, Ao Bai immediately flared up. “Great Khan, the main army withdraws, yet my troops are ordered to remain behind—would that not place the soldiers of the Bordered White Banner in grave danger?”

Bang!

Dorgon slammed the table and roared, “You were the one who just expressed dissatisfaction with my order to withdraw. Now I grant your Bordered White Banner three more days, and you’re still dissatisfied. What—Ao Bai, is this how you treat my decrees? Or do you believe I truly cannot kill you?”

Seeing the killing intent flicker in Dorgon’s eyes, Ao Bai finally realized he had fallen into Dorgon’s trap. By withholding news of the Xuan–Da army at first, Dorgon had dug a pit for those who opposed him—and Ao Bai had foolishly leapt straight into it. Damn it, I really am a fool.

As Ao Bai stood there dumbstruck, the killing intent in Dorgon’s eyes grew impossible to suppress. He barked coldly, “Guards—drag Ao Bai out—”

“Great Khan—spare him under the blade!”

At once, Abatai, Turgur, Soni, Turai, Xihan, Gong A’dai, and more than ten other generals and ministers close to Ao Bai hurriedly stepped forward and knelt before Dorgon.

Soni pleaded, “Great Khan, Ao Bai merely spoke rashly. He harbors no disrespect toward you!”

“Heh.” Dodo sneered from the side. “Everyone saw what happened just now. No matter what the Great Khan said, Ao Bai spoke in opposition. If that isn’t disrespect, then tell me—what is?”

Abatai also stepped forward and said, “Ao Bai is a rough man. Earlier, he was unaware that the Xuan–Da army had already marched, which is why he offended the Great Khan. As the saying goes, ‘the ignorant are not to blame.’ I beg the Great Khan to spare him this once.”

“Heh—‘the ignorant are not to blame,’” Dodo pressed relentlessly. “So next time someone offends the Great Khan, can they simply use ‘ignorance’ as an excuse to get away with it?”

“This…” Abatai was at a loss for words. Yet he knew one thing for certain: no matter what, they had to save Ao Bai’s life today. Dorgon already held the moral high ground, and their faction was weaker. If Ao Bai were killed as well, their situation would become even more perilous.

With that in mind, Abatai gritted his teeth and dropped to his knees with a sob. “Great Khan, we are willing to stand surety for Ao Bai. Please spare him this once!”

“Great Khan—please spare Ao Bai this once!” Following Abatai, Turgur, Soni, Turai, Xihan, Gong A’dai, and others all knelt down, and in an instant the hall was filled with kneeling figures.

Dorgon gazed coldly at the line of kneeling men, then a gentle smile appeared on his face. He rose and said, “Enough. All of you may rise. I was merely momentarily angered just now—how could I truly intend to kill Ao Bai? However… Ao Bai did show disrespect first. To leave him unpunished would be improper. Thus, I will strip Ao Bai of his post as commander of the Bordered White Banner as a warning. He may redeem himself through meritorious service; should he achieve further military exploits, his rank may be restored. What do you all think?”

As soon as Dorgon finished speaking, everyone in the hall sucked in a sharp breath. This move—softening while striking—was ruthless indeed. First, he dug a pit for Ao Bai; then he pretended to mete out severe punishment, knowing full well that no one would stand by and let Ao Bai be executed; finally, he turned and stripped Ao Bai of his command. At this point, what could they say? All they could do was kneel again and respond in unison, “We obey the decree!”

Thus, with a simple display of authority, Dorgon removed Ao Bai from his command. It was Dorgon’s first show of power since ascending the throne, revealing a shrewdness and ruthlessness no less than that of Hong Taiji. Dai Shan, Dudu, and others—who had remained silent—felt it keenly for the first time.

After Ao Bai was dealt with, no one dared question Dorgon’s withdrawal order again. As the dissent faded, the hundred thousand Qing troops—long prepared—began withdrawing beyond the passes in successive waves. All of this occurred within just a few days, leaving Yue Yang, who rushed to Changping, somewhat caught off guard.

“We underestimated Dorgon. He really did plan to grab what he could and run,” Yue Yang sighed helplessly as he looked at the now-empty city of Changping.

This campaign had seen Yue Yang deploy seventy thousand troops, consuming enormous quantities of supplies, yet they had achieved the destruction of fewer than two thousand enemy soldiers—a deeply disappointing result.

“Young Master, what do we do now? Do we keep pursuing them?” Shunbao asked unwillingly from the side. In the entire Xuan–Da army, only he dared to address Yue Yang this way. To him, “Young Master” was a title earned through years of following Yue Yang from childhood—not something just anyone could use.

Yue Yang sighed and shook his head. “No. We weren’t prepared for operations beyond the passes. If we rashly pursue, we’ll inevitably face supply shortages. That would be disastrous for us. We should—”

Before he could finish, someone arrived from the rear to report that a delegation from the capital had come, supposedly to deliver an imperial edict.

“What does this emperor want now? Issuing edicts nonstop—does he even want people to live?” Shunbao muttered irritably, only to be silenced by a sharp look from Yue Yang.

When Yue Yang saw the visitor, however, he was startled. The one delivering the edict was none other than Wang Chengen, Chongzhen’s chief eunuch. Though Wang Chengen no longer held the post of head eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, no one dared underestimate him. If one spoke of loyalty and trust, there was likely no one in the entire Ming besides him whom Chongzhen trusted more.

“Eunuch Wang, we haven’t met since our parting in the capital years ago. You still look as dignified as ever. But what great matter requires you to deliver the edict personally?” Yue Yang greeted him with a smile, striding forward.

Wang Chengen returned a faint smile and said softly, “Marquis Yue, might we find a quiet place? I have matters to discuss with you.”

“Of course.” Yue Yang nodded, a slight unease rising in his heart. Soon, the two sat down in a secluded room.

Once inside, Wang Chengen took out a folded document from his sleeve, raised it high, and solemnly announced, “Loyal and Brave Marquis Yue Yang—receive the edict!”

“Again…” Yue Yang sighed inwardly. Before his final break with Chongzhen, he still had to kneel at the sight of this thing. He stepped forward to do so, but Wang Chengen stopped him.

“Marquis Yue, His Majesty has said that this is a zhongzhi—an internal edict. You need not kneel.”

“A zhongzhi?” Yue Yang was taken aback.

During the Ming, governance emphasized a balance between imperial and ministerial authority. Imperial edicts required endorsement by the Grand Secretariat to be considered formal. If an emperor issued an order without passing through the Secretariat, it was not an official edict and was known as a zhongzhi. As recorded in The Gazetteer of Suizhou · Biography of Yuan Keli: “Keli said, ‘Those who kill must die—such is the law of the court. Can a favored courtier truly escape it?’ Later, an internal edict granted a pardon, yet Keli was unmoved.”

“Eunuch Wang, what is going on? Why would His Majesty suddenly issue a zhongzhi?” Yue Yang sensed something amiss.

“You’ll know once you read it,” Wang Chengen said helplessly. “Aside from His Majesty and a few grand secretaries, no one else in the entire Ming knows of this yet. See for yourself.”

He handed the document to Yue Yang.

Unfolding it, Yue Yang’s heart leapt violently at the very first line: ‘There are treacherous ministers within the realm who colluded with the Qing, allowing them to enter the passes, bringing devastation upon the people…’

He kept reading, growing more and more shocked with each line. By the end, even someone as bold as Yue Yang felt chilled. This was a pit—and a massive one designed to bury people alive.

After finishing, Yue Yang raised the edict and asked grimly, “Eunuch Wang, are you certain this edict was written personally by His Majesty?”

“Absolutely,” Wang Chengen replied quickly. “It was indeed written by His Majesty himself.”

“Then why does everything in it reek of a scheme to kill people?” Yue Yang snapped, waving the edict. “You want me to lead troops to take over the Liaodong defenses—do you know how many people will die? I could use this very edict to execute you on the spot!”

After so many years in command, Yue Yang had presided over countless deaths. When his killing intent surged, even a man of firm will could crumble—Wang Chengen was no exception. He was badly shaken.

Wang Chengen frantically waved his hands. “Marquis Yue, you mustn’t wrong this servant! Even if I had ten thousand lives, I would never dare falsify an edict! This truly is in His Majesty’s own hand! The Emperor says the Liaodong army colluded with the Tatars, secretly allowing Qing forces through the passes—their crime deserves death without pardon. If you doubt it, you may personally question His Majesty later!”

Seeing Wang Chengen’s face pale green with fear, Yue Yang knew the edict was almost certainly genuine. He himself had been deeply puzzled by how the Qing troops had so easily breached the passes this time—especially since his spies in Shengjing had sent no warning whatsoever. It had been utterly abnormal. Now, after reading Chongzhen’s edict, the mystery was finally solved: the Liaodong army had let the Tatars through.

Yet Chongzhen’s order for him to take over the Liaodong defenses carried both advantages and grave dangers. Mishandled, it could spiral into an uncontrollable disaster.