Who killed the Ming Dynasty?

Chapter 119 Song An, Song 3 Lang

The sunlight streaming through the lattice window was just enough to illuminate the space.

The spray of blood mist transformed into crimson silk in the sunset, dyeing Zhu Cilang's robe a dark crimson color, like a crown.

The copper bells hanging from the ceiling were still vibrating, their last lingering sound blending into the deepening light.

Two columns of soldiers charged forward swiftly like arrows released from a bow.

The six spears in the front row gleamed with a cold light.

"Put your gun away! Take three steps back—!"

General Hui's loud shout rang out.

The spear tip froze instantly, the red-tasseled spearhead only three inches away from Zhu Cilang's throat.

Hui Can strode into the light and shadow, his gaze sweeping over the soldiers in the hall.

"Open your eyes wide, you bastards!"

"The rebel leader tricked and killed General Hao; the evidence from the corpse has been examined. Brothers, you have rendered meritorious service by following me in slaying the rebels—"

He suddenly drew his ghost-head saber.

"Bury the stove at midnight and collect the reward at dawn. Which good-for-nothing dares to utter a single word of nonsense? Military law recognizes brothers, but my devil-headed sword doesn't discriminate."

The soldiers' Adam's apples bobbed rapidly beneath their cloth armor, their gazes shifting between Zhu Cilang and General Hui, creating a tense atmosphere.

A soldier in the back row suddenly took half a step back, and the scabbard of his waist knife hit a pillar with a hollow sound.

"Can't you hear the military orders? Are you deaf?!"

Hui Can's eyes were bloodshot, and the muscles in his hand gripping the knife were taut.

However, the twenty-four spear tips seemed to be frozen in place, firmly fixed in the light and shadow, neither moving forward nor backward.

Zhu Cilang felt a chill run down his spine; the intervention of this Assistant Commander Hui was completely unexpected.

In this stalemate, Zhang Youyu suddenly plunged into the hail of gunfire:

"This minister is acting on behalf of the Emperor. The evidence against Hao, the traitor, for colluding with bandits, is irrefutable. You have now abandoned the darkness and joined the light, and you are still the Emperor's personal guard. Do you want to test the sharpness of the guillotine that will exterminate your entire family?"

Upon hearing Zhang Youyu's stern words, the soldiers' expressions finally changed. After a slight metallic scraping sound, they all put away their weapons.

The soldiers in the front row exchanged glances, then suddenly knelt down on one knee in unison. The soldiers in the back row followed suit, bending their knees and bursting into a jumbled roar:

"I am willing to obey your orders, sir!"

"As you command, Minister!"

Zhang Youyu's long beard fluttered even without wind. He stepped forward steadily, his gaze fixed on the square-faced military general:

"General, your decisive action in a time of crisis is as clear as the sun and moon in your loyalty and righteousness. May I ask your name?"

"This humble general will ascend to the position of Prime Minister!"

Hui Dengxiang clasped his hands in a deep fist salute, his gaze sweeping briefly across Zhu Cilang's face, his voice booming like a bell:

"This humble general was originally a guerrilla under Zuo Liangyu. Last year, during the breakout from Fancheng, three hundred of my brothers were lost, and that's why this filthy scoundrel took me under his command."

He kicked away Hao Xiaozhong's half-broken waist badge.

"I've been eating meager meals with Hao Xiaozhong for the past six months, and I'm so incredibly frustrated."

This was not the first time Zhu Cilang had heard of Hui Dengxiang's name.

This man was originally a leader of the peasant army under Li Zicheng. In the eleventh year of the Chongzhen Emperor's reign, he led his troops to surrender to Xiong Wencan and became one of the leaders of the rebel army that was granted amnesty by the Ming Dynasty.

Zhang Youyu's gaze swept quickly over Zhu Cilang, catching the emperor's imperceptible nod.

The frost on his face instantly melted away like a spring breeze:

"What a fine General Hui, who has been sifted through the turbulent waves! He is hereby promoted to the rank of Deputy Commander-in-Chief, and I will report this to His Majesty with urgent news."

"This humble general is willing to defend Jingzhou for the imperial court!"

Hui Dengxiang knelt on one knee, his eyes flashing as he looked up:

"I beg Your Excellency to allow me to personally eliminate those treacherous spies."

That night, the four gates of Jingzhou were locked.

At dawn the next day, the cold fog had not yet dissipated.

When Zhu Cilang and his party passed through the passageway on the east side of the drill ground, forty-eight heads of "Shun rebel spies" were piled up into a mound on the still-wet blue brick ground.

The single, glaring eye at the very top is Hao Xiaozhong's head.

Before leaving, Zhu Cilang transferred the 10,000 taels of silver originally intended for Chengdu to Jingzhou, and left Zhang Youyu, the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue, to stay there.

This person was required to act as an imperial envoy, maneuvering among Zuo Liangyu's troops, and also shouldering the important responsibility of strategically connecting the military affairs of Jingzhou with the troops of General Ma Jinzhong in Wuchang.

On his departure, Zhu Cilang issued a special edict to Zhang Youyu:

The newly promoted Deputy Commander-in-Chief Hui Dengxiang's troops must be directly under Ma Jinzhong's command, and a clear distinction must be drawn between them and Zuo Liangyu's military and political affairs.

This edict reveals a deep-seated fear of Zuo Zhen's growing military power and also establishes a system of checks and balances for the Jingxiang defense line.

Zhu Cilang further ordered Zhang Youyu to act as an imperial envoy:

The lawless tax officials of Wuchang Prefecture were to be purged. Zhang Youyu was ordered to arrest all the tax officials of Wuchang Prefecture and send them to the three judicial departments in Nanjing for joint trial.

Before the morning mist had dissipated, Zhu Cilang's merchant ship quietly set sail.

Flags fluttered atop the city walls, and the traces of last night's bloodshed and fire had been transformed into the ink marks on an official document: "Forty-eight traitors and collaborators have been eliminated."

Only the river wind of Jingzhou, carrying the stench of blood, swept across the river and carried away into the unseen distance.

......

Meanwhile, in Chengdu.

In early autumn, Chengdu is bathed in the thick darkness of night.

A light drizzle was falling from the sky.

The bluestone path shimmered with a faint, watery light, and the occasional warm glow of lanterns was diffused in the rain and mist.

Song An deliberately tore open the collar of his brocade merchant's robe, revealing his worn-out inner shirt.

He strode through the streets with unsteady steps, putting on a dissolute air as if he had just come from a brothel.

Rainwater dripped from the eaves, hitting his shoulders and soaking his outer robe.

He strolled into the tavern below the North Gate tower, ordered a bowl of turbid wine, and casually pulled over a long bench to sit down.

The wine bowl was rough, and he tapped the rim of it lightly with his chopsticks, humming a tuneless little tune.

The rain outside the eaves grew heavier, and the tavern was sparsely populated with dim lights.

Just then, a man in his thirties, wrapped in a raincoat, hurriedly rushed into the tavern. Water droplets from the raincoat fell to the ground, splashing up small water droplets.

Song An caught a glimpse of the person out of the corner of his eye, paused for a moment, and then resumed his rhythm.

When the man looked up and saw Song An's face clearly, his expression changed drastically, and he turned to leave.

"Hey! Brother Chen? Who are you hiding from?"

Song An quickly got up and grabbed his raincoat.

The man froze, his hand instinctively reaching for the sword at his waist.

"Postmaster Song? No... should I call him Manager Song now? I suddenly remembered something else..."

Song An's gaze fell on the hilt of the sword. The inscription "Chen, Commander of Chengdu Guard" was still on the hilt, but the scabbard had been changed to the style of the Great Western Army.

"When old friends meet, why must weapons be used?"

Song An sneered and slammed his chopsticks on the table, making a crisp sound.

"That goose-feather saber of Commander Chen must have killed three of his fellow Chengdu Guards before he survived, right?"

Commander Chen's expression changed instantly, and his eyes darted around in a panic.

Two rough-clothed men in the corner of the tavern suddenly coughed. One of them pretended to choke on his drink, but half of an iron ruler was sticking out of his sleeve.

"Commander Chen intends to burn paper money for the deceased brothers on the seventh day after their deaths..."

Song An lowered his voice, his gaze sweeping over the two men's pale faces.

"The new dynasty's spies love stories of loyalty and heroism. Last night, they just had someone executed at Caishikou for weeping and mourning a former dynasty's military household."

Chen Qianhu's back suddenly stiffened beneath his raincoat, his hand on the hilt of his sword was covered in cold sweat, leaving wet handprints on the scabbard.

Song An clearly remembered that three days ago he had personally witnessed the owner of the Xicheng Rice Shop being dragged away, simply because he had told a regular customer that "this year's grain prices are even more severe than in the sixteenth year of the Chongzhen Emperor's reign."

At this time in Chengdu, soldiers disguised themselves as civilians and infiltrated the city to listen to people's conversations.

If any dissatisfaction with the new dynasty was discovered, the person would be immediately arrested and executed, leading to a situation where "even close relatives would not dare to greet or comfort each other on the road."

Commander Chen suddenly jolted, grabbed Song An's arm, and coldly rebuked him in a low voice:

"Song San, are you crazy? You think you can hear me? Find somewhere else to talk."

A barely perceptible smile played at the corners of Song An's lips. This was exactly the result he wanted. The person he had come specifically to find was this old friend—Commander Chen.