MLMD -Chapter 436 News Leaks Out

A sinister glint flashed across Jiang He’s gaunt face. He turned to the man in black beside him and asked in a low voice, “There weren’t any loose ends just now, were there?”

The black-clad man bowed. “Reporting to my lord, everything has already been arranged. The patrolling soldiers have all been dealt with as well—they won’t let anything slip.”

“Good.” Jiang He nodded in satisfaction, then added with emphasis, “This is a task personally assigned by the Marquis. We must handle it properly. Otherwise, what’s the point of the Marquis allocating us so much silver every year? We might as well disband and go home to hold our children.”

“Yes, my lord is absolutely right,” the man said, bowing again. A trace of indignation crept into his tone. “Over the years, has anyone in You Mountain Division ever failed to carry out orders for the Marquis and the Madam? Unlike those people from You River Division—set up for so long, yet they’ve never done anything that truly impresses us.”

“Shut up. Matters concerning You River Division are not for you to criticize.” Jiang He turned back and snapped quietly.

The man shrank his neck and fell silent, though there was no trace of panic on his face. He knew Jiang He was merely speaking offhandedly. You Mountain Division and You River Division were both sharp blades in Yue Yang’s hand—one for internal affairs, one for external. Though they rarely clashed outright, mutual dislike was only natural.

Jiang He glanced at his unconcerned subordinate and sighed inwardly. Unlike him, Jiang He had access to far more information. Compared to the formidable reputation of You Mountain Division, You River Division kept a much lower profile—but that was no reason to underestimate it. At the very least, Jiang He knew that every year You River Division received several times the operating funds of You Mountain Division. From that alone, one could tell which of the two Yue Yang and Hai Lanzhu valued more.

Gazing at Shengjing ahead—dark as a beast waiting to devour its prey—Jiang He murmured to himself, “I only hope that after Shengjing falls, the Marquis will also assign Liaodong to You Mountain Division to manage.”

A steady rain poured from the sky, turning the once-dry ground into a muddy quagmire. A man burst out of the Ming army camp, stumbling and slipping as he ran toward the walls of Shengjing. Reaching the city, he shouted at the top of his lungs in Manchu, “Someone come! Lower a basket and pull me up—I have urgent business to report to His Majesty! Hurry, pull me up!”

The Manchus’ defenses were indeed tight. Not long after his cries rang out, a basket was lowered from the wall and the man was hauled up.

Half an hour later, Dorgon—already asleep—was awakened by the eunuch on night duty. Anyone would be displeased at being roused from a deep sleep, yet Dorgon did not curse immediately. Instead, he sat quietly on the edge of the bed and looked at the eunuch. He knew that unless something truly momentous had occurred, even with ten times the courage of a leopard this eunuch would not dare disturb him in the dead of night.

Facing Dorgon’s grave expression, the eunuch trembled as he spoke. “Your Majesty, our agent embedded in the Ming army returned overnight. He says there is a matter of great urgency that he must personally report to Your Majesty.”

“Bring him in!” Dorgon’s voice carried a chill that seemed capable of freezing a man to the bone in the dark night.

After some time, amid hurried footsteps, several burly eunuchs escorted a man in black—his body caked in mud—into Dorgon’s bedchamber. Upon seeing Dorgon, the man burst into tears and sobbed, “Your Majesty, disaster has struck! Our… our Great Qing people are all about to be carried off by the Ming army!”

Dorgon roared, “What exactly happened? Explain yourself clearly!”

“Y-yes… it’s like this… back then, this servant…”

The agent, snot and tears streaming, recounted everything in meticulous detail. After hearing him out, Dorgon did not immediately react. Instead, he stood there dazed and muttered, “So you’re saying that within a hundred li of our Great Qing, there are no Manchu commoners left at all?”

The agent nodded tearfully. “That’s right. This servant heard that the Ming army gathered all our Manchu people—men and women, young and old alike—and split them into two groups. One group was sent to Shanxi; the other was transported by land and sea to Shandong, Jiangsu-Zhejiang, Guangdong, and other regions. Anyone who refused to go was executed on the spot. The people dare not speak, though their anger is boundless.”

“Pfft—”

Before the agent finished speaking, Dorgon spat out a mouthful of dark red blood and collapsed backward.

“Your Majesty… Your Majesty… what’s wrong? Please don’t frighten this servant…”
“Someone, come quickly! Are all those useless wretches outside dead? Summon the imperial physicians—now!”

As darkness closed in on Dorgon, he vaguely heard the chaos of hurried footsteps and the panicked shouts of the eunuchs.

When Dorgon awoke, several palace maids were busy at his bedside. His principal consort, Borjigit, sat beside him, gently wiping the sweat from his forehead.

In a weak voice, Dorgon asked, “What time is it now? How long was I unconscious?”

Borjigit’s face lit up when she saw him awaken. “Your Majesty, you’re awake! I’ll immediately summon the imperial physician to take your pulse.” She started to rise, but Dorgon grabbed her hand.

“There’s no rush for that,” he said anxiously. “Answer my question first.”

At his words, tears welled up in Borjigit’s eyes. Though she wanted to reproach him, seeing the urgency in her husband’s expression, she answered truthfully. “You were unconscious for only a few hours. It’s breakfast time now.”

“And the agent who reported last night—where is he?”

“Without Your Majesty’s instructions, I dared not decide on my own. I had the chief eunuch detain him and keep him from contacting anyone else.”

“Good.” Dorgon let out a long breath, then murmured, “It’s not too late yet. Immediately issue my decree—summon the Fifteenth Prince and all the princes and ministers to the palace.”

Borjigit hesitated. “Your Majesty, but your health—”

Dorgon waved his hand impatiently. “There’s no time to worry about that. Have them come at once!”

“…Very well.”

Having been married to Dorgon for many years, Borjigit understood his temperament. With no choice, she rose and went to summon them. Before long, Dodo and the assembled ministers entered the chamber.

When they saw Dorgon lying in bed, all were greatly shocked. Dorgon was only twenty-eight years old, in the prime of life. Ordinarily, he appeared vigorous and energetic. Yet now his cheeks were sunken, his complexion sallow—he looked like a gravely ill man.

Dodo rushed forward first, kneeling at the bedside and crying out, “Your Majesty, what’s happened? What on earth went wrong? How could you become like this?”

The others also stared at Dorgon in astonishment. Under Borjigit’s strict orders, the events of the previous night had not spread. Everyone knew only that Dorgon had fallen ill—not how serious it was, nor the cause. Seeing him now, their hearts sank.

Though shocked, the ministers’ thoughts differed. Those loyal to Dorgon, like Dodo, were frantic with worry. But men such as Hooge and Oboi, who harbored their own ambitions, secretly rejoiced.

“Your Majesty, what happened? I only missed seeing you for one night—how did things become this?” Dodo asked, his voice filled with anxiety and anger.

Dorgon gave a bitter smile. “Fifteenth Brother, you’re still as impatient as ever. Very well—I’ll tell you.”

From his bed, Dorgon recounted the entire affair from beginning to end. When he finished, everyone stood dumbstruck. None had imagined that the Ming army would resort to such a ruthless, exterminating strategy—they were digging up the Manchus by the roots!

Looking at the stunned faces around him, Dorgon said with a bitter smile, “What’s done is done. You should all think about how to deal with this.”

No one spoke. After a long while, Hooge muttered, “How can they do this? How dare those Ming dogs act like this!”

No one took up Hooge’s words. Dodo even shot him a withering look. Whether Hooge was truly ignorant or merely pretending, hadn’t the Qing done such things countless times themselves? Over the years, the Manchus had abducted untold numbers of Han people from within the passes—hundreds of thousands at least. Now the Ming army was simply returning the same methods upon them.

After a moment, the white-haired Daišan spoke gravely, “Your Majesty, this Ming tactic is unspeakably vicious. There are still many families of Eight Banner soldiers outside Shengjing. If they learn that the surrounding areas have already been swept clean and their families taken away, morale will collapse at once. Therefore, this matter must be kept absolutely secret. Anyone who leaks even a word—exterminate nine generations!”

As he spoke, a murderous aura filled the room. Everyone shuddered and nodded repeatedly. They all understood: if this news spread, the Ming army wouldn’t even need to attack—half the Eight Banner forces would fall apart. In that case, Shengjing would truly be in danger.

Just as Daišan finished, a voice asked, “Prince Li, we naturally won’t speak of it—but what if the Ming army spreads it outside the city?”

“Then it depends on whether anyone believes it!” Daišan’s killing intent grew heavier as he snarled through clenched teeth. “Anyone who disturbs morale—kill without mercy!”

The atmosphere in the room grew stifling. Just the day before, these Qing grandees had been mocking the Ming army outside the walls as cowards—boasting a hundred thousand troops yet daring only to dig trenches, erect chevaux-de-frise, and set obstacles, lacking the courage to attack. They believed that once Ming supplies ran low, the might of Qing cavalry would be revealed. Yet in a single night, everything had reversed. It wasn’t that the Ming dared not attack—their objective was far more than Shengjing. They meant to uproot the Manchus entirely.

If all Manchus beyond the passes were relocated inside, even if Shengjing could be held in the end, what meaning would it have? With only the two hundred thousand Manchus inside the city, could they sustain the vast territory of the Great Qing?

“Your Majesty, let us sally forth and fight!” Oboi suddenly shouted. “Since those Ming dogs want to cut off our roots, let’s fight them to the death!”

Silence answered him—deathly silence. Outside Shengjing, the Ming army’s trenches, chevaux-de-frise, and barbed wire already encircled the city. Any force leaving the gates would become a target, leisurely slaughtered from afar by Ming musketeers and artillery.

Lying in bed, Dorgon looked at the ministers’ grim faces and sighed inwardly. Once, Qing warriors scoffed at the mere mention of the Ming army. Now, they lacked even the courage to leave the city and fight. What a tragedy.

Yet Dorgon did not blame them. Times had changed. The Ming army they faced was no longer the weak, incompetent force of old. They were well trained, high in morale—and above all, their weapons were terrifyingly advanced. Manchu warriors trained from childhood, honing their bodies and martial skills over many years to become elite fighters. Yet against these Ming troops, such warriors were cut down in showers of blood before they could even close the distance. This reality crushed the Manchu spirit.

As the new leader of the Manchus, Dorgon keenly sensed that the age when individual valor decided wars had passed. But though he sensed it, he had no solution. This was no longer a matter of courage or tactics—it was a disparity in technological power. Limited by his era, Dorgon did not yet grasp this truth clearly.

After hours of discussion with no effective solution in sight, Dorgon could only dismiss the ministers.

Once they had left, he beckoned Borjigit closer and whispered, “Prepare at once. Have Dorbo and Dong’e ready. In a few days, I plan to order a sortie against the enemy. You and the two children must break out during the chaos. Once out, head north… as far as you possibly can.”

“What?” Borjigit cried in alarm. “Your Majesty, what’s wrong? Can Shengjing really not be held?”

Though Shengjing had been tightly encircled by the Ming army, no Manchu inside had ever truly believed the city would fall. After decades of reconstruction and reinforcement, Shengjing had become a formidable fortress—with eight gates, a circumference of over ten li, walls two and a half zhang high and wide enough for four carts abreast, and over a hundred thousand troops inside. To everyone, the idea of the Ming capturing such a city was sheer fantasy.

Influenced by this belief, Borjigit had never considered Shengjing in danger. Now, hearing Dorgon tell her to flee with their children, she was stunned.

Seeing her shock, Dorgon smiled bitterly. “I once believed Shengjing impregnable too—at least until our food ran out. But now I see I underestimated Yue Yang and the Xuanda army. Since Yue Yang has already seized all the Manchus around Shengjing, he surely has an even crueler move waiting. Shengjing will not hold. If the city falls, given the blood feud between Manchus and Han over these years, there will be no good ending. So, to leave a seed for our Aisin-Gioro house, you must take Dorbo and Dong’e and leave Shengjing.”

Borjigit was reeling. She clutched Dorgon’s hand and pleaded, “Your Majesty, then come with us! Let’s return to Hetu Ala together. Once we reach there, we’ll be safe!”

“You’re too naïve,” Dorgon said with a bitter smile. “If I stay, you might have a thirty percent chance to break out. If I go with you, you won’t even have a half percent. Enough—say no more. Go prepare. In a few days, I’ll find an opportunity to send you out of the city. And remember: don’t think Hetu Ala is safe. You must keep heading north—until the Ming can no longer find you.”

At that moment, Dorgon spoke as if arranging his final affairs, repeating his instructions tirelessly, pouring them out without regard for whether she fully understood.