MLMD -Chapter 429 Shenyang in Panic

Jinzhou City — a civilian house not far from the barracks

Day had already broken bright. Bai Kai, wearing a short jacket, yawned as he walked slowly out of the house. In his left hand he held a tea mug; in his right, a toothbrush with toothpaste already on it. It looked like he was heading out to wash up.

“Sir… your towel.” A woman’s voice came from behind him. A moment later, a figure hurried up and draped a towel around his neck.

“Oh—almost forgot.” Bai Kai nodded. He walked over to a large rock, squatted down, and began brushing his teeth. After finishing, savoring the faint minty taste that spread through his mouth, he nodded in satisfaction. “Mmm… this toothpaste really is good. No wonder it sells for ten cash a stick outside. Just the flavor alone is worth the price.”

He spat out the last mouthful of water, wiped his mouth carelessly with the towel, then stepped down from the rock and went to the well. Scooping up a ladle of well water, he washed his face. A cool sensation flowed from head to toe, leaving him feeling much refreshed.

When Bai Kai returned to the room, he saw a slender figure standing by the bed, quietly folding the quilt. He plopped down on a chair beside her and said, “Su Wan Gualjia, I heard you still have several relatives north of Shengjing. Is that right?”

The woman stiffened all over. She turned to look at him, her voice trembling. “Sir… are you going to raid again?”

Bai Kai didn’t answer. He just sat there silently, looking at her—an unspoken confirmation.

Seeing his tacit admission, the woman dropped to her knees with a thud and kowtowed, pleading, “Sir… I beg you, please show mercy and leave my family a way to live. I’ll work like an ox or a horse to repay your kindness.”

The woman kneeling on the floor had somewhat dark skin, but her features were quite pretty—one of those faces that grew more pleasing the longer you looked at her. She was a Manchu woman whom Bai Kai had seized half a year ago while raiding near Shengjing. Her name was Su Wan Gualjia. Half a year earlier, she had gone to Mantun Village to visit relatives, only for Bai Kai and his band of night scouts to massacre the village and capture her. After returning to Jinzhou, she was assigned to Bai Kai. In the end, he couldn’t resist taking her into his bed.

He felt no particular guilt about it. This was permitted by the army. For non-Han women seized during raids, soldiers had the right to dispose of them as they pleased—sell them or keep them. Bai Kai chose to keep her, and before long they ended up sharing a bed.

At first, Bai Kai had thought that after being taken, she might try to kill herself or fight him desperately. To his surprise, she quickly accepted her fate and followed him, which puzzled him for a time. Later, he came to understand that Manchu customs differed from those of the Han. Han women emphasized lifelong fidelity—marry the husband, follow the husband; if the husband dies, follow the son. The Manchus, on the other hand, believed that the weak must submit to the strong.

Before the Manchus were unified, they fought one another constantly. The losers’ property and even their children became possessions of the victors. This was a rule nomadic peoples had followed for generations. For example, before unifying the Mongols, Genghis Khan’s wife Börte was once captured by the Merkits. Over a year later, when Genghis Khan reclaimed her, she was already pregnant. Whose child it was needed no explanation. Yet Genghis Khan was not especially angry; instead, he magnanimously allowed Börte to give birth to the child. This showed how lightly such matters were regarded among nomadic peoples of that era.

Looking at the woman kneeling before him, Bai Kai asked in puzzlement, “Su Wan Gualjia, why are you panicking again? I never said I was going to raid your home. Why are you so frightened?”

Only then did the young woman stop sobbing. “What? You’re not going to raid Shengjing?”

Bai Kai shook his head. “Of course not… But I’m going out on a mission tomorrow. I might pass by your home. Tell me where it is—if something comes up, I may be able to look after your family a bit.”

Hearing this, Su Wan Gualjia’s eyes regained their light. After hesitating for a moment, she said,
“Sir… my home is a place called Wozigou, about 120 li east of Shengjing. My parents and two younger siblings are still there. If you happen to pass by and have time, please tell my parents that I’m living well now and ask them not to worry.”

“Oh, I see. Fine… when I have time, I’ll make a trip. But if I go there, your parents won’t grab knives and try to kill me, will they?” Bai Kai joked.

“How could they?” Su Wan Gualjia gave a bitter smile. “Our Manchu strength is long gone. Life is already hard enough—we wouldn’t dare oppose the Great Ming anymore. If, for the sake of how I’ve served you these days, sir could reward my family with a little something, they’d be grateful beyond words.”

Bai Kai fell silent for a moment, then nodded. Under the young woman’s service, he put on his uniform, stab-resistant armor, and helmet. Then he took up his firelock and other weapons, mounted his horse, and rode off toward the barracks.

When Bai Kai reached the main camp, he saw a figure who rarely appeared there in person—the head of all Jinzhou cavalry and the direct superior of the night scouts: Guerrilla General Wu Chengfeng. The moment Bai Kai saw Wu Chengfeng, his heart sank. He immediately realized that a major battle was coming.

Sure enough, when he arrived, nearly all officers of the night scout camp at the rank of squad leader or above were already there, crowding the not-so-large room until it was packed full.

After everyone had arrived, Wu Chengfeng spoke. “Gentlemen, our Xuan-Da Army has been stationed in Liaodong for over a year now. I’m sure you’re all well aware of the situation here by now.”

Without waiting for a response, he continued, “You’ve all seen it—the Tartars are at the end of their rope. It’s time to deal with them!”

At this, excitement lit up everyone’s eyes. Bai Kai blurted out, “Sir, are we going to retake Shengjing?”

A flash of amusement passed through Wu Chengfeng’s eyes. He scolded Bai Kai with a grin,
“You little brat. You’ve been a soldier for years—don’t you know the rules? Is this something a squad leader like you can ask about? Did you stuff the secrecy regulations into a dog’s belly? You’re lucky it’s me. If General Yue were here, see how he’d deal with you!”

Bai Kai scratched the back of his head awkwardly and laughed. It was rather interesting—Wu Chengfeng, who seemed blunt-tempered, was actually quite lenient with his subordinates, while Shunbao, the former bookboy who looked easygoing, was extremely strict when it came to discipline. This was one of the oddities of the Xuan-Da Army.

After reprimanding Bai Kai, Wu Chengfeng continued, “Some things you just need to know—but remember, keep them secret. Starting tomorrow, all night scouts are to be sent out. Operate in squads or teams around Shengjing. You have one objective: harass the Tartars as much as possible. If you encounter isolated units, wipe them out. If you run into large forces, avoid them. The goal is simple—make their lives miserable so they can’t even sleep without keeping one eye open. Is that clear?”

“Yes!” The officers answered in unison, their voices nearly lifting the roof.

Clatter clatter…

Urgent hoofbeats echoed along the road as a cavalryman in leather armor galloped forward. Ahead loomed the towering walls of Shengjing. When the rider reached the city gate, the guards who were about to stop him saw the three small red flags stuck into his collar and hurriedly cleared the way. A cavalryman bearing three red flags meant an urgent dispatch—under such circumstances, even a prince or beile would be at fault if struck down while blocking the way.

The rider sped into the palace, rolled off his horse, then pulled out a wooden box and handed it to the gate guard. The guard took it and ran toward the palace, shouting as he ran, “Eight-hundred-li express! Make way—eight-hundred-li express!”

“Your Majesty… an eight-hundred-li express has arrived!”

The wooden box was soon delivered into the hands of Dorgon, who was eating lunch with several consorts. After carefully checking the seal and wax, Dorgon opened it. A memorial appeared before his eyes. After reading it, his expression changed dramatically. In a grave voice, he ordered, “To the Imperial Study. Summon all banner lords and ministers to enter the palace immediately!”

“Yes!”

Half an hour later, Dorgon’s study was packed with dozens of hastily arrived officials. His face dark as water, Dorgon addressed them, “Gentlemen, I have just received news that the Ming forces stationed in Jinzhou have been unusually active today. As early as yesterday, they sent large numbers of night scouts to infiltrate the area around Shengjing, attacking our Great Qing civilians and even isolated warriors. I believe these are signs that the Ming army intends to attack Shengjing. What do you think we should do?”

The officials’ faces all turned grim. Since Hong Taiji’s death, the Manchus’ days had gone from bad to worse. Their annual raids south of the pass had been forced to stop; the Mongol tribes were growing restless; even Korea was showing signs of instability. Everyone was scraping by. They endured it only because the Ming now had that freak Yue Yang—if you couldn’t beat him, you had to swallow your pride. But now, even that option was gone. The Ming weren’t letting them lie low at all—they were flipping the table.

Dodo leapt to his feet and shouted angrily, “Your Majesty, if those Ming dogs won’t leave us a way to live, then let’s fight them to the death! We still have a hundred thousand elite troops. Even if Yue Yang is formidable, we can at least knock out a few of his teeth and show him the unyielding spirit of the Manchus!”

His voice boomed, making the study hum. Yet few were stirred by his words. Hooge rolled his eyes and said coolly, “Prince Yu speaks so passionately—why not have you command the army and fight the Ming to the death? We’ll cheer for you.”

“What nonsense is that, Hooge!” Dodo exploded, glaring at him.

“They’re about to knock on our door! Shouldn’t we fight with our lives? Are you even a descendant of Nurhaci? Are you worthy of the late emperor’s teachings?”

“Being a descendant of Nurhaci doesn’t mean dying for nothing,” Hooge shot back. “The situation is obvious. The Ming army is strong—fighting head-on would only be suicide. I don’t support a decisive battle.”

Dodo scowled. “Then what do you suggest?”

“Move the capital,” Hooge said without hesitation, shocking everyone. “The only solution is to move the capital back to Hetu Ala to avoid the Ming’s edge. If we stay in Shengjing, there’s only one road—death.”

“Move… the capital?” Most people were stunned. No one expected the usually rash Hooge to suggest something so openly submissive. Many stared at him as if the sun had risen in the west.

“Do you even know what you’re saying?!” Seeing Dorgon trembling with rage, Dodo finally lost control. He rushed over, grabbed Hooge by the collar, and roared, “You disgrace our ancestors! Saying such cowardly nonsense—believe it or not, I’ll cut you down right now!”

Clatter!

At his movement, Abatai, Tantai, Tazhan, and others who supported Hooge all stood up, glaring at Dodo. Abatai said coldly, “Prince Yu, don’t forget—this is the Imperial Study, not your own manor. Prince Su is not your household slave. You don’t get to bark orders here!”

From the dragon throne, Dorgon ground his teeth. Though he had been emperor for over a year and had reshaped Shengjing to his liking, men like Abatai, Soni, and Turai still supported Hooge. This made Dorgon wary—he dared not strike Hooge down outright. The Qing were already badly weakened; another bout of internal strife might destroy them without the Ming even attacking.

Staring at Hooge, who stood his ground and met Dodo’s gaze without fear, Dorgon wished he could order the guards to drag him out and chop him into eighteen pieces. Yet he couldn’t. The frustration nearly drove him mad.

In truth, Dorgon understood Hooge’s reasoning. Hooge was no longer the Qing emperor; he didn’t want to waste his limited troops on Shengjing’s walls. The power of the Xuan-Da Army’s firearms was common knowledge—countless Qing warriors had proven it with their blood. If the capital were moved to Hetu Ala, they’d at least be safe for a few more years.

But Dorgon couldn’t think that way. Hetu Ala, while the Manchu birthplace and first capital, was just a small county town—low walls, cramped terrain, incapable of housing the entire Manchu population of hundreds of thousands. Moving the capital there would be a disaster for the Qing. Hooge knew this perfectly well. But position determined perspective: Hooge controlled only the Plain White and Bordered White Banners—fewer than thirty thousand men—easy enough to settle in Hetu Ala, or retreat into the mountains to hunt if need be. Dorgon, however, had to bear responsibility for seven to eight hundred thousand Manchu people. If he moved the capital back to Hetu Ala, his reign wouldn’t last long. A leader who couldn’t keep his people alive would inevitably be abandoned.

Bang!

Dorgon slammed the table. His chilling voice echoed through the study. “Hooge, you are the late emperor’s eldest son and a model for the court. Shengjing was conquered and designated as the capital by the Taizu Emperor himself. When Taizu was alive, he declared Shengjing the land of Manchu prosperity—not to be abandoned lightly. All Aisin Gioro descendants must obey this. Have you forgotten?”

“Times change,” Hooge retorted.

“Was the Taizu Emperor not wise and mighty? Would he ever have been beaten by the Ming to the point of being unable to defend the capital?”

“You—”

Dorgon felt the veins on his forehead throb. At last, he pointed at Hooge and shouted, “Hooge, if not for your status as the late emperor’s eldest son, I would not have tolerated you again and again. If you utter the words ‘move the capital’ once more, I will have you executed!”

The murderous intent in Dorgon’s words chilled the entire room. Hooge felt it keenly; despite his bravado, cold sweat broke out on his back. Sertu beside him tugged lightly at his sleeve.

Hooge took a deep breath. “Your Majesty, please quell your thunderous anger. I was only discussing the matter objectively, not expressing dissatisfaction with Your Majesty. You are the ruler of the realm—if you refuse to move the capital, I will naturally obey your command.”

Seeing Hooge finally soften, Dorgon’s fury slowly subsided. Fixing him with a sharp gaze, he said coolly, “I hope you mean what you say. In this moment of great peril, if you dare speak again of moving the capital, I will show no mercy.”

At this point, Fan Wencheng, who had been watching coldly from the back, stepped forward. “Your Majesty speaks wisely. Shengjing is the foundation of our Great Qing. If Shengjing stands, the Great Qing stands; if Shengjing falls, the Great Qing is imperiled. In my humble opinion, though the Ming army comes with great momentum, defending the city is not without hope. Shengjing has high walls and deep defenses, and within the city are hundreds of thousands of civilians. Even if the Ming attack with over a hundred thousand troops, as long as our army and people stand united, Shengjing will be as solid as iron. Moreover, if we can defeat the Ming beneath Shengjing’s walls, we may pursue them in victory—perhaps even seize Jinzhou in one stroke. Thus, our Great Qing could turn danger into safety!”

“Excellent—Minister Fan speaks with reason!”

Hearing this, Dorgon was invigorated as if injected with a tonic. He declared loudly, “From this day forth, anyone who speaks of moving the capital shall be executed without mercy!”

“Yes!” With Dorgon’s words, all the ministers responded in unison.