The wind rises at the end of the Ming Dynasty

On the 21st day of the first month of the 16th year of Chongzhen's reign, at dawn.

At the same moment that determined the fate of the South, the clock of destiny was also ticking in the North.

The Qing army's siege cast a gloomy atmosphere over the already desolate northern land.

The capital of the Ming Dynasty.

Under the continuous artillery fire, the city wall of Deshengmen let out its last mournful cry. Cracks spread like a spider web, and bricks and stones poured down like a waterfall, stirring up clouds of dust.

With a deafening roar, another large section of the city wall collapsed.

Before the smoke and dust had even cleared, the Qing army soldiers, who had been waiting outside the city for a long time, surged like a tide over the ruins formed by the collapse of the city wall and swept into the city.

Inside the city, the Beijing garrison hastily formed ranks to try and plug the exposed gap, but the Qing army was already pressing in like an iron wall.

Each spear is sharp and piercing, each dagger is cold and menacing.

The Ming army's formation collapsed instantly. The defeated soldiers abandoned their armor and weapons and fled in all directions, their cries of agony filling the air.

The same situation is gradually emerging in all directions of the capital.

With the war having progressed to this point, everyone already knows the answer in their hearts.

Being able to hold out for so long is, in a sense, a miracle.

There were no external reinforcements to come to our aid, and no elite troops to rely on internally.

With the canal transport disrupted for a long time, the capital's grain supplies had long been exhausted.

The sudden plague dealt a heavy blow to the soldiers defending the city.

Just as the epidemic was beginning to subside, the Qing army's iron cavalry was already at the city gates.

The grain transport system had been interrupted for a long time, and the capital city had long been short of grain.

The sudden plague devastated most of the soldiers guarding the capital.

Not long after the plague subsided, the Qing army immediately besieged the city.

The four garrisons that originally guarded the capital had about 40,000 troops.

The four garrisons were stationed outside the city and had taken precautionary measures in advance, but they were still affected.

However, by the time the Qing army attacked, only about 30,000 men remained with fighting strength.

The situation inside the city was even worse. Due to lax discipline, many soldiers in the Beijing garrison were infected with diseases, resulting in numerous deaths and injuries.

The high-ranking officials in the imperial court discussed and argued all day long, but they couldn't come up with any strategy.

The person who ultimately stepped forward was Fang Zhenghua, the Grand Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial.

Because Zhou Yanru led his troops westward, Fang Zhenghua was not sent to Baoding to garrison as he was historically appointed by Emperor Chongzhen, but remained in the capital.

Fang Zhenghua, along with the palace's eunuchs and conscripted guards from the Eastern Depot and the Embroidered Uniform Guard, imposed martial law on the capital, thus curbing the spread of the epidemic.

But it was all too late...

The Qing army is coming...

Just as the Battle of Yangzhou was coming to an end, the outer city of the capital was also breached at the same time.

The Qing army, as fierce as wolves and tigers, poured into the streets and alleys of Beijing.

On Deshengmen.

Fang Zhenghua stood at the side gate of the city tower, leaning on his spear, calmly watching the Qing soldiers surging in through the breach in the collapsed city wall not far away.

The north wind was like a knife, and sweat mixed with blood slowly slid down Fang Zhenghua's face.

Chaos reigned both inside and outside the city walls, with soldiers and officers running around and shouting everywhere.

Some are still fighting desperately, but many more have already abandoned their armor and fled in panic.

On the city walls, corpses lay strewn about, and banners were toppled.

Thick smoke billowed from the burning watchtower, obscuring half the sky.

"Master Supervisor!"

A hoarse shout rang out, and a commander of the Imperial Guards staggered up the city wall, half of his body stained with blood, and only half of the goose-feather knife in his hand remained.

When the commander of the Imperial Guards saw Fang Zhenghua standing there, his body went limp and he knelt down on the ground.

His voice trembled, filled with despair.

"The Jurchen army...has entered the city...This humble servant...is incompetent..."

The commander of the Imperial Guard lowered his head and slammed his fist hard on the ground.

In the end, this seven-foot-tall man choked up and couldn't speak, only able to press his forehead against the cold ground, his shoulders shaking violently.

At Desheng Gate, all the officers and soldiers guarding the city focused their attention on Fang Zhenghua.

Everyone is waiting for Fangzhenghua's decision.

"My lord, the outer city can no longer be defended."

An officer from the Eastern Depot approached, his helmet long gone, his disheveled hair stuck to his face with blood.

"The bells at Xizhimen and Andingmen have already rung..."

"My lord, let us retreat to the inner city!"

A soldier from the Clean Army spoke, his voice trembling with fear.

"The inner city walls are high and thick. If we protect our commander and fight our way out, we can hold out for a while longer."

The moment the samurai soldier uttered those words, he gained the support of many.

"Weren't the troops from Liaozhen supposed to be coming quickly? What will happen when the Guan Ning troops arrive...?"

More people joined in the persuasion, and voices rose and fell.

"Yes, Chief Supervisor, we..."

However, after a short while, the noisy crowd finally calmed down.

Because Fang Zhenghua did not answer any of them, nor did he say a single word.

Fang Zhenghua stood alone in front of them, silently gazing down at the city below.

Finally, when everyone around the gatehouse fell silent, Fang Zhenghua turned around.

"The trend is such that it is beyond human power to reverse."

Fang Zhenghua looked at everyone in the room and spoke calmly.

"I am in a state of panic; gentlemen, please do what is best for me."

The outcome was already predetermined, and Fangzhenghua knew it better than anyone else.

"When I received the order, I already knew that I was powerless to do anything but repay the Lord's kindness with my death."

After Zhou Yanru led reinforcements to the western suburbs of the capital, only to be defeated in a single battle...

As reinforcements from Liaozhen failed to arrive in the capital...

If Liaozhen could come, he should have come long ago...

all.

It's all over.

……

Inside the Forbidden City, chaos had already broken out.

The palace maids and eunuchs in the inner palace were already in a state of panic, and the crowd surged towards the various palace gates like a tide.

A young palace maid, around sixteen years old, was swept along by the crowd, stumbling and running in the long corridor.

Her hair was disheveled, her hairpins were askew, and her face was filled with terror as she was helplessly swept forward by the crowd.

Amidst the surging crowd and the chaos, the young palace maid, unaware of her surroundings, tripped over her own skirt and fell to the ground.

"what--"

A painful sound came from her throat, but no one in the crowd behind her turned away at that moment.

A soap boot slammed down on the back of her hand, making a cracking sound from the knuckles.

She screamed in pain, but her voice was immediately drowned out by the louder cries.

Immediately afterwards, the second and third kicks followed...

Some people stepped on her skirt, some stepped on her hair, and some even stepped directly on her back.

She struggled to get up, but as soon as she managed to prop herself up halfway, she was slammed back to the ground by an even greater force.

Blood seeped from the corner of her mouth, and her vision began to blur...

Everyone was running for their lives.

The gates of the Qianqing Palace were wide open, and the memorials on the dragon desk were scattered all over the ground, but no one paid any attention to them.

Inside the warm pavilion, a gilded incense burner lay overturned on the ground, its ash scattered in a cloud, mixed with footprints left by someone unknown.

On either side of the palace gate, several elderly eunuchs held swords, their bodies trembling and their faces filled with fear, yet they stubbornly remained at their posts.

They stood trembling on either side of the palace gate, just as they had every dusk for the past ten years.

Inside the warm pavilion, Emperor Chongzhen's body trembled uncontrollably, and the sword in his hand was now stained with blood.

Just now.

He held a final banquet with Empress Zhou and other concubines to bid them farewell.

He even killed his two daughters with his own hands.

If it falls into the hands of the Qing soldiers, I fear...

"His Majesty."

Wang Chengen knelt on the ground and said in a trembling voice.

"Her Majesty the Empress has hanged herself in service to her country..."

Emperor Chongzhen's face twitched violently, his eyes swirling with indescribable pain.

He slowly closed his eyes, his hand gripping the sword trembling slightly from the excessive force, and the sword emitted a faint ringing sound.

The dynasty, which had ruled for nearly three hundred years, was ultimately brought to an end in his hands.

Now that things have come to this, he has no face to go to the underworld to meet the former emperors, to meet the founding emperor. The Song dynasty collapsed, and the Yuan dynasty, with its northern barbarians, ruled China for ninety-seven years.

Emperor Taizu rose from humble beginnings, drove out the northern barbarians, rescued the people from suffering, and ultimately restored the dignity of Han officials.

However, this time...

The land was shattered and overthrown once again.

When the people's clothing and manners are ruined, the country is in danger.

"Dang Cang——"

The sword slipped from Chongzhen's trembling hand and crashed heavily onto the floor of the warm pavilion, emitting a clear and mournful cry.

"His Majesty……"

Wang Chengen's body trembled uncontrollably as he choked out his words.

"Let's go..."

Emperor Chongzhen smiled bitterly and lightly flicked his sleeves.

"The Ming Dynasty already has one captured emperor; it cannot afford to have another one."

There was no fear in Chongzhen's eyes.

His eyes were filled with exhaustion.

The world is doomed, and the state is lost.

There's nothing he can do right now.

He was not a wise ruler.

He couldn't save the collapsing edifice.

It's also impossible to turn the tide and prevent a complete collapse.

However, there is one thing he can do now.

I have no words to say to the people, and I am ashamed to face my ancestors.

The Ming Dynasty must never suffer the same humiliation as the Song Dynasty, repeating the Jingkang Incident.

He would never linger on like Huizong and Qinzong, suffering humiliation at the hands of the Jurchens.

The emperors of the Ming Dynasty had their own ways of dying!

Emperor Chongzhen clenched his fists and took a deep breath.

then.

Without hesitation, he strode out of the warm pavilion.

A fierce wind howled, carrying large snowflakes, swirling between the palaces and corridors, turning the world into chaos.

Emperor Chongzhen walked through the snow, his dark blue Taoist robe fluttering in the wind, revealing the worn lining beneath as the robe billowed.

"His Majesty!"

Wang Chengen stood up, wiped away his tears, and staggered out of the warm pavilion.

The emperor's figure could be seen appearing and disappearing in the snow.

The palace lanterns on both sides of the palace road had long been extinguished, and only the distant flames pierced through the snow curtain, casting a blood-red glow on Chongzhen.

The fire roared and melted the ice and snow.

The eaves of the Forbidden City cast menacing shadows in the firelight.

Those once magnificent glazed tiles, those once towering and splendid palaces...

Just like the last tears of this dynasty, it vanished completely in the flames.

Emperor Chongzhen and Wang Chengen walked one after the other through the burning palace, through the chaotic crowd, and through the magnificent halls and corridors.

At the foot of Coal Hill, herds of cranes and deer are kept.

In this chaotic situation, the domesticated deer were running amok in the snow.

Their hooves overturned the frozen feeding troughs, they pounded desperately against the railings blocking their way, and their hooting cries tore through the silence of the early morning.

Those pampered white cranes finally remembered that they could still fly, and flapped their wings, trying to fly to a safe place.

The surrounding area was in complete disarray, a scene of utter chaos.

Supported by Wang Chengen, Chongzhen walked steadily, step by step, towards the top of Coal Hill.

The snowflakes pelted my face like tiny ice needles.

The north wind in January is bitterly cold, like a steel knife scraping your bones.

The wind and snow brought with them the fierce sounds of Manchu.

The Qing army has already stormed into the palace.

When news of the fall of the outer city arrived, the entire capital city collapsed like a dam breaking.

Emperor Chongzhen sighed softly.

He rang the court bell in the Imperial Hall, intending to summon all the officials, but no one entered the hall even after the bell had rung for a long time.

He didn't know how long they walked; all Chongzhen knew was that he was almost carried to the mountaintop by Wang Chengen.

On the hillside in front of us stands a vermilion pavilion.

Chongzhen remembered the name of that pavilion: it was called the Red Pavilion.

It was specially built by him to inspect the troops in the palace.

Looking down from the Red Pavilion, one can see not only most of the Forbidden City, but also the scenery of the inner and outer cities.

Many times, Emperor Chongzhen liked to stay in the Red Pavilion, watching the Imperial Guards training in the palace, the palace maids and officials walking around the palace, and the bustling activity of the inner and outer city.

Now it has become a viewing platform overlooking the end of the road.

"Your Majesty, let's rest for a while."

Wang Chengen helped Chongzhen to sit down in the Red Pavilion.

Emperor Chongzhen obediently sat down; he was simply too tired.

From this vantage point, the training grounds where the imperial guards once practiced are now deserted, the once magnificent palace is now wailing amidst the flames, and the bustling streets have been transformed into a living hell.

Emperor Chongzhen gave a bitter smile.

"I have never treated my officials poorly, but now that the country is in peril, why is not a single one of my ministers following me? Unlike the previous dynasty when, during the Jingnan Rebellion, there were still loyal ministers like Cheng Ji..."

As he was speaking, Chongzhen stopped talking.

After a moment of silence, Chongzhen sighed and muttered to himself.

"Given the current chaos and turmoil, perhaps they were unaware of the news and thus were unable to arrive in time."

Next to the Red Pavilion stands a crooked locust tree.

That old locust tree stood there, dark and imposing, against the backdrop of the snow.

Emperor Chongzhen gazed at the eastern horizon, where it remained a chaotic, leaden gray.

The orange-red flames illuminated the rising sun, distorting the sunlight into an eerie crimson-gold hue.

The old locust tree's bare branches rustled, shaking off a pile of snow.

As the first rays of sunlight struggled to pierce through the clouds, the white silk ribbon was already tied into a knot on the old locust branch.

In the final moments of his life, Emperor Chongzhen looked at Wang Chengen kneeling on the ground, and a ripple of emotion stirred within him.

Throughout his life, he made many mistakes and misjudged many people.

After Cao Huachun left, he felt as if he had no one left by his side.

He felt increasingly isolated and alone, and increasingly felt that there was no one he could trust.

But now he realizes that there are still many people willing to stand with him.

"Cheng'en, you should run for your life."

Emperor Chongzhen felt ashamed and sighed.

He wanted Wang Chengen to live.

Sincerely...

"His Majesty……"

Wang Chengen knelt on the ground and wept bitterly.

He sensed the guilt Chongzhen felt towards him in his words.

“This servant accompanied Your Majesty from the Prince Xin’s residence to the Qianqing Palace. This servant has been following Your Majesty since I was a child.”

"Let this servant accompany Your Majesty on this final journey..."

Amidst the wind and snow, Chongzhen's face was as pale as paper, with only a glimmer of light in his eyes as the distant flames of the burning city walls flickered within them.

Her long, gray hair danced wildly in the snow, like a wisp of smoke about to die out...

Emperor Chongzhen glanced back at the south one last time.

all.

It doesn't seem to be truly over yet.

However, he will never see the final outcome.

The wind and snow grew increasingly fierce, obscuring everything in the mountains and silencing all human voices.

I don’t know how much time has passed.

The snow finally stopped.

A titmouse landed on a branch, tilting its head to examine the two snow-covered figures beneath the tree.

Two white ribbons hung from the horizontal branches of the old locust tree, swaying gently in the morning light.

A gentle north wind blew by, revealing a blood-stained silk scroll:
"I have reigned for sixteen years, yet I am of meager virtue and lack the ability to govern. I have incurred the wrath of Heaven, which has led to the capture of our country by the barbarians."

"If I die, I will have no face to meet my ancestors in the underworld."

"Cover your face with your hair and die. Let the thieves tear my body apart, but do not harm a single one of my people." (End of Chapter)