My father is Chongzhen? Then I have no choice but to rebel.

He dared not turn around, as if if he did, he would see countless fiery eyes and countless faces twisted with rage, rushing out of the darkness to tear him apart.

Do you feel guilty?
Perhaps there is even a slight chance.

But he was more overwhelmed by immense, overwhelming fear. The Jurchens' iron hooves, the people's anger, the unknown future... all of this made him want to escape, to escape as far away as possible.

Shenyang became his only lifeline.

As for the country and the people behind him... he was powerless to think about it, and dared not think about it.

The wheels rolled over the snow, making a monotonous and rapid sound, like the frantic heartbeat of a desperate fugitive.

Before and behind the carriage were other officials' carriages and escorting cavalry, equally flustered, forming a long line that looked like a frightened snake fleeing northward in the snowy night.

Behind them, the land of North Korea burned, wept, and cursed. And they, without looking back, rushed towards the north that had promised "safety," utterly abandoning their homeland and people to a fate of blood and fire.

Several days later, in Shenyang, at the Imperial Palace, in the Imperial Study.

The 20th day of the twelfth lunar month is the eve of the Lunar New Year.

The city of Shenyang was already immersed in the festive atmosphere and the joy of the emperor's upcoming birthday, but inside the imperial study, there was still a quiet and focused atmosphere that was out of place with the celebrations outside the window.

On the huge rosewood desk, detailed maps of Liaodong and Korea were spread out, with military reports and secret letters from various parties piled up beside them.

Two enormous palace lanterns illuminated the room as bright as day, while a bronze animal-shaped charcoal brazier in the corner burned brightly, emitting the unique fragrance of pine wood and creating a warm, spring-like atmosphere.

The Chongzhen Emperor was not wearing his dragon robe, but only a black casual robe with a light mink vest over it. He was sitting upright behind his desk, holding a secret report on the latest situation in Korea that had just been presented by the Embroidered Uniform Guard. He read it slowly and carefully, his brows sometimes furrowing and sometimes relaxing.

Zhu Cilang stood to the side, also dressed in casual clothes, with an upright posture and a calm face. Only a glint of shrewdness occasionally flashed in the depths of his eyes, revealing the turmoil in his heart.

After a long while, Chongzhen put down the secret report and let out a long, slow sigh.

The breath was long and deep, as if it released all the pent-up emotions that had been building up in the chest for a long time.

He looked up at Zhu Cilang, his face not immediately showing a smile, but a complex mix of relief and sigh.
"The people have lost all their support and are now deserted by everyone."

Emperor Chongzhen's voice rang out in the quiet study, calm and undisturbed.

"Lang'er, you've succeeded in this step. The Lee family in Korea is now like a tree without roots or water without a source."

Zhu Cilang bowed:
"This is not my achievement; it is the Li family's self-destruction from the people. I merely... went with the flow and revealed the truth to the world."

Chongzhen nodded, his gaze returning to the map, his finger sweeping across the Yalu River and pointing to Seoul:

"Go with the flow... That's easy to say. This 'flow' was created and guided by you. The Jurchens entering Korea was a flow; the Joseon Dynasty fleeing north was a flow; the people's hearts were boiling, and that was also a flow. You brought all these 'flows' together, and what they ultimately pointed to was the ownership of Korea."

He paused, then looked directly at Zhu Cilang:

"However, this 'momentum' is stained with the blood of the Korean people and fueled by the fires of their homeland. Future historians will not simply say 'going with the flow'."

Zhu Cilang remained calm and met his father's gaze with composure:
"Father, whether your historical writing is skillful or clumsy, it will be a legacy for all ages. If we can eliminate the border troubles of Korea forever, free our Great Ming from all obstacles in the northeast, ensure unimpeded sea routes in the East China Sea, and allow the lands of the Three Hans to be bathed in the blessings of our Chinese civilization, even if there is some bloodshed and violence, I believe it will be worthwhile."

Moreover, the primary culprit in this bloodshed lies with the Jurchens, and the secondary cause is the Yi family's moral failings. Our Great Ming army is about to cross the sea eastward to relieve the people's suffering and punish the guilty. After the pacification, we will reduce taxes and corvée labor, promote education, and within a generation, the people of Joseon will only remember the Great Ming's benevolence in restoring them; who will remember the Yi family's moral failings?

These words are logically sound and have a clear objective, cleverly combining practical interests, military necessity, and moral high ground.

As Chongzhen listened, the last trace of doubt in his eyes vanished, replaced by the composure and sharpness of a chess player after seeing a key piece placed.

He stopped focusing on the methods used in the process and instead turned his attention to the results.

"That's enough, it's too late to dwell on it."

Emperor Chongzhen waved his hand, his tone becoming more pragmatic.

"Is Liaodong now largely stable?"

"Yes."

Zhu Cilang walked to the map and began to give a detailed report.

"Since I ordered the investigation of corrupt officials, the distribution of land and grain, and the acceptance of various tribes, order has been basically restored in the prefectures and counties of Liaodong. The scattered people have returned to their hometowns one after another, and the cleared unclaimed wasteland has begun to be registered and prepared for distribution next year. The promotion of honeycomb briquettes is going smoothly, and the number of people who have frozen to death this winter has been greatly reduced compared with previous years."

The thirteen Mongol tribes and seven Jurchen tribes that had submitted have all been settled, and their chieftains have all expressed their loyalty to the Ming Dynasty and their willingness to fight against the Jurchens. Currently, Liaodong has a force of 500,000 available troops, with ample supplies and stable morale.

He then pointed to North Korea:

"After the Jurchens crossed the river, although their advance was unstoppable, their brutal plundering had aroused strong resistance from the Korean people. Defeated soldiers like Lee Si-baek had begun to break up into smaller groups and harass behind enemy lines. Most of what they plundered was used to feed themselves, which was not sustainable."

Furthermore, their forces were divided and scattered for looting. Our scouts reported that their main force is currently concentrated along the Pyongyang-Seoul line, intending to secure this route and scavenge for food to survive the winter.

As Chongzhen listened, his fingers unconsciously tapped the table, his mind racing with calculations.

After a long silence, he abruptly stood up, walked to the enormous "Complete Map of the World" hanging in the imperial study, gazed intently at the Korean Peninsula, and said in a deep voice:

"Since that's the case, the time has come! Issue my decree—"

His voice suddenly rose, carrying an undeniable determination:
"In that case, let's proceed according to your original plan!"

"Your subject will certainly not fail in his mission!"

Zhu Cilang's voice was resolute.

The emperor and his minister then discussed for a long time the details of transporting provisions, stockpiling gunpowder, distributing new firearms, and contacting and supporting the retreating Korean soldiers.

Outside the window, the snow had stopped sometime earlier, and a crescent moon hung high, its clear light shining on the snow-covered palace, making everything appear pristine.

When Zhu Cilang took his leave and gently closed the door to the imperial study, Chongzhen stood alone by the window, gazing at the cold moon, remaining silent for a long time.

The long-cherished wish of recovering Liaodong, and even the opportunity to expand the territory, was now within reach. Were you excited? Of course. But more than anything, you felt a heavy responsibility and the awe-inspiring weight of being an emperor who would soon decide the fate of millions.

"Completely eliminate the Jurchens and revitalize the Ming Dynasty..."

He repeated the goal in a low voice, his gaze growing increasingly determined.

January of the eighteenth year of the Chongzhen reign.

The city of Shenyang, in the dead of winter, welcomed an unprecedented, almost boiling-out celebration ahead of schedule. The Emperor's birthday and the Spring Festival were celebrated together.

This marks the first time in over two centuries since the Yongle Emperor moved the capital to Beijing that a Ming emperor has celebrated his birthday in the "frontier" region, in the "former capital" that had just been recovered from enemy forces.

Its significance has long transcended a simple birthday celebration, becoming a grand ceremony that proclaims divine mandate, declares victory, and unites people's hearts.

Starting from the 20th day of the twelfth lunar month, the city of Shenyang turned into a sea of ​​red.

At each city gate and along both sides of the main streets, shops and residences all hung up brand-new red lanterns and the Ming Dynasty's red flag.

The government organized artisans and common people to clear the snow from the main streets and lay down red carpets brought from the warehouse. Dozens of decorated archways were erected along the streets, adorned with colorful silk flowers and lanterns, and inscribed with auspicious phrases such as "Long Live the Emperor," "Peace Throughout the Land," and "Heaven Blesses the Ming Dynasty."

What's even more striking is the crowd.

Not only did the people of Shenyang turn out in droves, but prominent gentry from various prefectures and counties in Liaodong, Mongol Taiji who had submitted to the emperor, leaders of the Jurchen tribes, and even merchant representatives who had traveled from Shandong and Beizhili to "pay homage" also crowded the city of Shenyang.

The inns were packed, the taverns were thriving, and the various accents and clothing blended together to create a unique and vibrant hustle and bustle.

On the very day of the Emperor's birthday, at dawn.

The square in front of the palace was already packed with people.

Elite troops from the Beijing Garrison and meritorious soldiers selected from various units, gleaming in armor and carrying halberds and swords, formed a neat and imposing procession along the square and the imperial road.

Civil and military officials, nobles and relatives, leaders of various departments, and representatives of gentry stood solemnly below the steps according to their rank and order.

At the exact hour of Chen (7-9 AM), bells and drums sounded in unison, and the Shao music was played.

Emperor Chongzhen, dressed in a dragon robe with twelve imperial symbols and wearing a winged crown, slowly ascended the temporarily erected and lavishly decorated Longevity Terrace, surrounded by Zhu Cilang and a group of civil officials and generals.

"Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor! Long live the Emperor!"

The thunderous cheers, like a thunderclap from a clear sky, seemed to shake the snow on the square.

The voices contained the officials' respect, the soldiers' passion, the surrenderers' awe, and, above all, the heartfelt excitement and gratitude of countless ordinary people who had survived the catastrophe.

Emperor Chongzhen stood in the center of the high platform, his gaze slowly sweeping over the dark mass of people below, over those familiar and unfamiliar faces, all of which were filled with excitement and anticipation.

He raised his hands and pressed them down slightly.

As the clamor subsided, all eyes turned to the world.

He didn't use the ornate and lengthy congratulatory message prepared by the eunuchs; instead, he spoke slowly in his slightly weary yet exceptionally clear and resonant voice:
"My people, my soldiers!"

"Today is my birthday. But what I wish to celebrate with you all even more is the glorious military achievements of my Great Ming army, the victory in the recapture of Liaodong! It is the joy of joining hands with you to weather the harsh winter and welcome a new life!"

His voice trembled slightly with excitement, yet it possessed a powerful infectious quality:
"At this time last year, the stench of blood and gore still lingered here, and the false title remained! At this time last year, you were either barely surviving under the iron hooves of the Jurchens, or struggling to survive in the mountains and snowfields! I, like you, suffered torment in my heart and could not sleep at night!"

Hearing this, many people recalled the suffering they had endured not long ago, and their eyes reddened as they sobbed softly.

"Of course!"

Chongzhen's voice suddenly rose in pitch and became full of power.

"Heaven's justice is clear, and righteousness endures forever! Thanks to the soldiers' bravery and bloodshed on the battlefield; thanks to the new weapons, our national prestige is enhanced; and even more so thanks to you all who cherish China, never forget your roots, and persevere with gritted teeth! Today, the red flag of our Great Ming Dynasty flies high above Shenyang! The joyous cheers of our Han people echo throughout Liaodong!"

"Long live! Long live!"

The cheers erupted again, even more enthusiastic than before.

After the clamor subsided, Emperor Chongzhen issued his most important and practical decree of the day:
"I know that after thirty years of war, Liaodong is utterly exhausted! The Jurchens have plundered the land to the extreme; you have no surplus grain, no decent clothes, and no roof over your houses! This is a loss for the nation, and a loss for me! My heart aches terribly!"

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room, each word striking like a heavy hammer against everyone's heart:

"Therefore, I hereby swear to Heaven and to you all: from this day forward, in all the newly recovered areas of Liaodong, in all prefectures, states, and counties, regardless of whether they are Han, Mongol, or Jurchen, as long as they are subjects of my Great Ming, they shall be exempt from land tax, poll tax, and miscellaneous levies for five years!"

"Within five years, I will allow you to recuperate and rebuild! The court will provide funds and grain to help you rebuild your houses and distribute seeds and oxen! Within five years, any official or clerk who dares to impose any additional taxes on you under any pretext, or who oppresses or exploits you, will be executed without mercy once verified! I mean what I say!"

"boom--!!!"

The entire square, no, the entire city of Shenyang, seemed to be ignited by this imperial decree! Five years of tax exemption! Housing repair assistance! Distribution of seeds and oxen! Execution of corrupt officials!

For these people who had just crawled back from the brink of hell and had nothing left, this was nothing short of a godsend, a true lifeline, and a tangible hope!
"Long live the Emperor! The Emperor is wise and benevolent!!"

"A benevolent and righteous ruler! A truly benevolent and righteous ruler!!"

"Long live the Ming Dynasty! Long live the Emperor!!"

"We're saved! We've found a way to survive!!"

The sounds of crying, cheering, kowtowing, and laughter mingled together, creating a deafening cacophony.

People hugged and jumped around like madmen, many throwing their last copper coins or even the steamed buns they had just received as a reward into the air, laughing and crying at the same time.

Many of the Mongols and Jurchens who submitted to the government, although they did not have a deep understanding of the concept of "land tax", understood the terms "exemption from taxes", "assistance in repairs", and "execution of corrupt officials", and they shouted excitedly and pounded their chests.

The people's hearts were completely ignited by this tangible benefit that could save their lives and build their families, and they were then firmly and willingly bound to the Ming Dynasty and to Emperor Chongzhen's chariot.

Zhu Cilang stood behind Chongzhen, watching the scene that was boiling over to the point of being out of control. He saw his father's face, which was slightly flushed with excitement and high spirits due to the people's love and admiration. His heart was also filled with surging emotions.

There was relief, a sense of ease at the successful sale, but more than anything, there was a heavy sense of responsibility.

Wei has already established his authority with rifles and steel behemoths, and with the steel knife used to investigate corrupt officials.

Indeed, Emperor Chongzhen's "five-year tax exemption" is the best interpretation and the most popular foundation.

Next, we should use this immense, condensed power to drive the already set sail on the war machine and complete the final, and most difficult, step.

The birthday celebrations lasted for three whole days.

The emperor hosted a banquet for the meritorious generals and rewarded his officials. The city of Shenyang was filled with a continuous stream of feasts. Although the dishes weren't particularly exquisite, the joy of surviving a calamity, the anticipation for the future, and the sense of glory of "the emperor sharing joy with the people" were incomparable to any delicacy. (End of Chapter)