Take control of Wei Zhongxian at the start and confiscate 100 million from him!

Chapter 173 Sun Chengzong: I am in danger! Zhu Youjian: My dear minister, it's cold, put on another layer of clothing.

The season has entered the depths of winter.

In the freezing cold, everything is desolate. This is a season when even the heavens are weary. Farmers huddle at home to keep warm, all industries are shut down, and even the most diligent warhorses snort with an air of impatience.

Inside the warm pavilion of the Shengjing Imperial Palace, the underfloor heating made the entire space as warm as spring, a world apart from the bone-chilling cold outside the window.

However, Huang Taiji's heart seemed even colder than the snow and ice outside the window.

His greatest daily expectation was the military reports that his spies would bring back from all over the country.

However, after news came from the southern Mongolian tribes that they had chosen to "obey orders but not proclamations" and become assimilated, and after Xuanfu and Datong became as solid as iron, with no cracks to be pried open, bad news became commonplace.

Huang Taiji's heart grew colder and colder with the weather.

Today's military report remains the same.

A battle report from the front lines lay quietly on the table. The Later Jin army had suffered another setback in a small-scale scouting operation, stumbling upon a fortified village that had been reinforced and modified at some unknown time.

The losses were minor, even negligible, but the frustrating feeling of punching cotton and getting your hands pierced by steel needles hidden inside caused the Qing Dynasty's spirit to gradually fade away with each insignificant blow.

Sitting below Huang Taiji, Fan Wencheng's confident composure had long been replaced by a deep sense of helplessness.

After suddenly gaining Huang Taiji's favor, he racked his brains and offered all sorts of brilliant and ingenious strategies, whether open or cunning. However, they all disappeared without a trace when they reached the young emperor of the Ming Dynasty.

No, it can't even be called a crack.

Breaking the deadlock is like facing a worthy opponent, a back-and-forth exchange, where you react to each move with skillful maneuvering and evasion.

But Emperor Chongzhen's response was both laughable and terrifying—in the face of all the fancy moves, he simply threw a punch. With endless silver and an incomprehensible absolute trust in his soldiers and civilians, he channeled an unreasonable and immense force to shatter all the ingenious plans.

One brute force can overcome ten clever schemes.

Fan Wencheng felt extremely bitter.

“Mr. Fan,” Huang Taiji finally spoke, his finger gently tapping the word “Shanhaiguan” on a huge geomantic map in front of him.

"How many more options do you think we have?"

Fan Wencheng bowed, his voice hoarse: "Your Majesty, with our mighty army and righteous forces, the warriors of our Great Qing are fearless in the face of the world. Although the Ming Dynasty may not be considered to have strong cities and powerful cannons, with the experienced and shrewd minister Sun Chengzong stationed in Liaodong, we are advancing step by step, steadily and surely... It is feared that we will find it difficult to make a breakthrough in the short term."

“Yes, Sun Chengzong…” Huang Taiji suddenly sneered, the laughter echoing in the warm pavilion, carrying a sinister chill. “The Ming army’s powerful cannons and strong fortifications are all inanimate objects. Zhu Youjian’s greatest reliance is his absolute trust in Sun Chengzong, Mao Wenlong, and Man Gui. This trust is his strongest fortress, and also his… only weakness.”

A glint flashed in Fan Wencheng's eyes, and he instantly understood Huang Taiji's meaning.

Huang Taiji finally removed his finger from Shanhaiguan, as if an invisible knife was slowly slicing across the map, ultimately pointing towards Beijing.

“This time, our swords won’t cut the city walls,” he said, each word uttered with a cruel glee, “but will cut people’s hearts.”

Fan Wencheng was deeply shaken and looked up at Huang Taiji.

Huang Taiji stood up, paced a few steps, and seemed to exhale all the pent-up frustration in his chest at that moment.

……

The Forbidden City, Wenhua Hall.

Zhu Youjian put down the last memorial in his hand and rubbed his temples.

The sunlight outside the hall filtered through the window lattice, casting dappled shadows, but it couldn't dispel the faint, oppressive atmosphere in the air.

Huang Taiji's new tricks came sooner than he had anticipated.

After the morning court session, several memorials from officials of the Censorate were presented.

The content was largely the same: they all began by lamenting certain recent "rumors" in the capital, then quoted classical texts, from Han Xin of the Han Dynasty and Guo Ziyi of the Tang Dynasty to Yue Fei of the Song Dynasty, and finally changed the subject, earnestly requesting the emperor "to be wary of the power of military generals and to nip problems in the bud" for the sake of the country.

Every word was a loyal warning, a tearful lament, but the target of the attack, however subtle, was clearly Sun Chengzong, far away in Liaodong.

As Zhu Youjian looked at these memorials, he even felt a little amused.

These censors are like ducks in a pond; when the water gets a little turbulent, they're always the first to quack.

They may have no ill intentions, and may even consider themselves pillars of the nation, unaware that they are merely a group startled by others testing the waters.

Zhu Youjian remained expressionless, only writing three words in vermilion ink on the memorial: "Understood."

Neither praising nor reprimanding. Always maintaining the most enigmatic imperial demeanor.

Soon, a second wave of snowflakes arrived.

This time, it was Wei Zhongxian who came. He dismissed his attendants and presented a secret report that was tightly wrapped in oilcloth.

“Your Majesty,” Wei Zhongxian said in a very low voice, “this was found by the Northern Garrison Commanders on the body of a captured Jinniu Banner chieftain in the southern grasslands. That Tartar was stubborn and committed suicide before being tortured, but this matter is of great importance to me, so I dare not conceal it.”

Zhu Youjian took it, opened the oilcloth, and inside was a yellowed letter.

The texture of the letter paper, the aging of the ink, even the creases on it, all bore the marks of time. He slowly unfolded it; the familiar formula, the familiar scent…

It is a replica of the "divide and conquer" tactic that has led to the deaths of loyal ministers and the collapse of border defenses countless times throughout history.

However, this time the protagonist is Sun Chengzong.

The contents of the letter are ambiguous, only mentioning vague phrases such as "the wind and snow outside the pass, my old friend is well" and "I have never forgotten your kindness in the past." Apart from the extremely similar handwriting, the private seal at the end is clearly the same seal that Sun Chengzong used in his early years.

It looks so realistic.

Zhu Youjian stroked the letter, feeling its almost lifelike texture, yet his heart remained coldly calm.

Huang Taiji indeed followed the same old path.

"Leave the things behind," he said calmly. "I will handle this matter myself."

Wei Zhongxian dared not ask any further questions, and bowed to take his leave.

Then, the third wave arrived as expected.

An urgent battle report from Liaodong arrived in the capital.

General Zhao Shuaijiao, under Sun Chengzong, ambushed and defeated the Later Jin Ajige tribe. In this battle, the Ming army beheaded more than 300 people at a very low cost and captured countless cattle, horses and armor. The Jin army then fled in disarray, abandoning their armor and weapons.

The good news has brought great joy to the government and the public!
For a time, everyone in the capital, from peddlers to princes and ministers, praised Commander Sun's brilliant military strategy, saying that a great victory in Liaodong was just around the corner.

However, amidst the jubilant cheers, Zhu Youjian keenly noticed that the officials who had submitted their memorials earlier now looked even more worried during the court assembly.

This plan is quite interesting. Sun Chuanting's military achievements are so outstanding, and his prestige is so high that even Huang Taiji's own brother was defeated by him... If this is combined with the secret letter, doesn't it raise suspicions of him raising an enemy to enhance his own power? Does it mean that there is indeed some kind of tacit understanding between him and the Later Jin?

All the chains of evidence seemed to be perfectly closed.

Rumors were the motive, secret letters were the evidence, and this glorious victory became the catalyst, pushing everything toward a most dangerous conclusion.

……

Zhu Youjian summoned several cabinet ministers and the six ministers, and presented them with the forged secret letter along with the victory report from Liaodong.

The emperor remained silent, sitting upright on his throne, his gaze as deep and cold as a pool of water, slowly sweeping over the faces of everyone present.

The brain of this empire was now like a frozen mausoleum, with silence replacing the usual endless arguments and discussions.

The letter from the grasslands was no longer just a thin, yellowed sheet of paper; it was like a bottle of deadly poison with its cork removed, its invisible aura spreading and eroding the minds of everyone present.

The first person to touch the letter was Han Kuang. His aged hand trembled slightly. He glanced at it, and his cloudy eyes narrowed sharply before returning to their usual calm, as if he hadn't seen anything at all. He simply handed the letter to the next person silently.

The letter lay on the emperor's desk, like a death warrant, passed from hand to hand, some withered, some plump, some refined.

Zhu Youjian's gaze seemed to wander casually, but in reality, it was as sharp as an eagle's, capturing, analyzing, and recording every subtle change in expression.

When someone saw the contents of the letter, he was first taken aback, and then a faint, almost imperceptible glint of excitement flashed in the depths of his eyes, which always held a look of concern for the country and its people. His lips moved slightly, as if a thousand words of passionate speech were churning in his throat, but he restrained himself well, only frowning more deeply and making his expression of grief and indignation even more pronounced.

The Minister of War's face was flushed, his breathing was heavy, his hands were clenched into fists, and his knuckles were white. He stared at the letter as if he wanted to burn it through. This dog of Wei Zhongxian was quite the actor.

Of course, some people are simply panicked.

Several less senior ministers turned pale, their foreheads damp with cold sweat that soaked the edges of their hats.

When they passed the letter around, their hands trembled like withered leaves in the wind, as if it were not a letter, but a red-hot branding iron.

They dared not believe that Governor Sun would collude with the enemy, dared not question the authenticity of the physical evidence, and dared not speculate on the emperor's intentions. Their minds were blank, filled only with fear.

"Like a reed in the wind, swaying to both sides." Zhu Youjian already had a plan in mind.

He took in everyone's expressions.

Huang Taiji's move was like throwing a boulder into the deep waters of the Ming Dynasty court, blasting out some fish that were lurking beneath the surface.

The emperor deliberately remained silent for a long time.

His slender fingers began to tap unconsciously on the smooth rosewood dragon throne armrests. One tap after another.

The sound had no fixed rhythm; sometimes it was rapid like rain pattering on banana leaves, and sometimes it was slow like the dripping of a water clock. Each strike seemed to strike directly into the hearts of the ministers, causing their heartbeats to sometimes rage and sometimes stop in sync with this strange rhythm.

……

Liaodong, the central command tent of the Guan Ning Army.

The wind and snow outside the tent howled like ghosts and wolves, turning everything in the world into chaos.

Inside the tent, the giant bronze brazier was glowing red with silver frost.

Sun Chengzong held a military book in his hand, but his gaze remained fixed on a single page for a long time. Before him lay a secret letter, sent through the most clandestine channels by his former students and friends in the capital.

The contents of the letter were piercingly incisive.

It made this old general, who had spent his entire life on the battlefield and had never flinched even amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood, break out in a cold sweat for the first time.

The rumors in the capital, the seized secret letter, and that perfectly timed victory...

In a split second, Sun Chengzong connected everything.

He could even clearly picture Huang Taiji sitting in Shengjing, sneering.

This was a dead end, an almost unsolvable open scheme. He could imagine the strange and turbulent waves that were currently being stirred up in the imperial court in Beijing.

"Commander!" The trusted advisor beside him was extremely anxious, his voice trembling slightly. "This...this is a blatant frame-up! You must immediately submit a memorial to defend yourself, explain everything to His Majesty, and reveal your true intentions!"

Sun Chengzong slowly shook his head, a bitter smile appearing on his face.

"To defend oneself?" he said softly. "To submit a memorial now would be to show guilt; not to submit one would be to admit it."

Sun Chengzong picked up the secret letter from the capital and, without the slightest hesitation, threw it into the blazing brazier. The letter quickly curled and turned black, and the chilling words struggled in the flames for a few moments before finally turning into a wisp of smoke.

"The insidious nature of this strategy lies in its psychological attack. It does not depend on whether the evidence is conclusive, but on whether it can sow the seeds of suspicion between the ruler and his ministers. Once this seed is planted, it is wrong to argue, and it is also wrong not to argue."

The advisor was stunned; only then did he realize the true horror of this plan.

Sun Chengzong stood up and walked to the tent entrance. He lifted the heavy curtain, and a biting cold wind rushed in, making his silver hair and beard dance wildly like weeds.

"The one who can resolve this situation is not me, nor is he in Liaodong," he said, gazing southward at the snow-covered area, his voice unusually firm, "but rather, it lies with Your Majesty, solely in Your Majesty's decision."

The moment he uttered those words, that unforgettable night unexpectedly surfaced in his mind.

That was the night he was summoned back to the capital. He was a retired official who thought he would spend the rest of his life in the countryside, but he was urgently summoned to the capital by an imperial edict.

When his carriage arrived at the palace gates late at night, he saw the young emperor, dressed in thin everyday clothes, standing quietly on the cold stone steps of the palace gates, waiting for him.

The wind that night seemed even colder than the wind in Liaodong tonight, but when the young emperor rushed toward him, took his arm and addressed him as "Sir," Sun Chengzong felt a warm current surge from the deepest part of his heart, instantly dispelling all the chill.

At that moment, he did not see the emperor, but a young man who carried the heavy burden of the entire empire on his shoulders and desperately needed a pillar of support.

From that night onward, the emperor bestowed upon him an absolute trust that surpassed the exemplary relationship between rulers and ministers throughout history.

They gave us money when we asked for it, and power when we asked for it; they never hindered us, and they never suspected us.

Those weapons, those continuous supplies of food and provisions, those unconventional actions of turning the Eastern Depot and the Embroidered Uniform Guard into his logistical support in Liaodong... all of these formed the foundation of his confidence in this young emperor.

Sun Chengzong slowly closed his eyes, letting the cold snowflakes hit his face.

He was confident that Huang Taiji's tricks, rumors, and so-called false evidence could not destroy the trust he had built with the emperor through their close friendship over the past few days.

but……

Despite his confidence, a deeper worry gnawed at his heart like a venomous snake.

Sun Chengzong was not worried about himself. He had lived to such an old age that he had long since disregarded life, death, honor, and disgrace. Even if an imperial edict to kill him were issued at this moment, he could still smile and accept it.

What he feared was that this game, which had finally come to a living state, would be ruined because of this!
As the Guan-Ning-Jin defense line grew stronger than iron under his leadership, as the Xuan-Da line was transformed from a leaky sieve by the emperor's swift reforms, and as Mao Wenlong, far away in Dongjiang, received the emperor's covert support, he became an increasingly thorn in Huang Taiji's side like a poisonous thorn...

Throughout the northern border of the Ming Dynasty, from east to west, an invisible net is slowly closing in, and everything is developing in the best possible direction.

This excellent situation was won with the blood and lives of tens of thousands of soldiers, and it was the path to restoration that he and countless colleagues painstakingly paved.

He was truly afraid that all of this would come to an abrupt end, or even regress, because of the underhanded tactics in the court and the pointless internal strife.

Sun Chengzong opened his eyes, gazing southwards, his chapped lips moving silently as he repeated to himself over and over again:

"Please...please don't..."

……

Forbidden City, Qianqing Palace.

At the height of the debate and speculation, Zhu Youjian unusually fell silent.

He did not summon any ministers again to discuss the matter, nor did he order a thorough investigation, nor did he issue any decree to Liaodong.

He waited quietly, patiently watching the area around the trap he had set. The foxes and jackals became restless and jumped around because of the smell of blood, gradually revealing their true intentions.

The winds in the court had already blown strong enough, and Zhu Youjian had seen through the true colors of those who were usually sanctimonious and those who claimed to be loyal.

Zhu Youjian felt that the time was almost right.

That afternoon, he finally summoned Wang Tiqian.

When Wang Tiqian and his entourage arrived at the central army camp, dusty and weary from their journey, carrying the imperial edict and ceremonial guards, the atmosphere in the entire camp instantly became extremely tense.

Inside and outside the command tent, all the generals who rushed over upon hearing the news, from the commander-in-chief to the guerrilla commanders, had grim faces.

Sun Chengzong stepped out of the command tent, his posture still as straight as a pine tree, but his aged face carried a sense of composure and tranquility after experiencing many trials.

He carefully straightened his crimson official robe, preparing to face his fate.

However, Wang Tiqian turned over and stepped forward, firmly supporting Sun Chengzong with both hands just as he was about to kneel.

"Mr. Sun, this is unacceptable, absolutely unacceptable! The wind and snow are fierce beyond the Great Wall. Your health is of utmost importance, His Majesty is always concerned about you!"

This unconventional yet incredibly warm address of "Mr. Sun" stunned all the generals present, and the tense atmosphere seemed to be gently plucked.

Wang Tiqian did not produce any imperial edict; he simply turned around and waved his hand behind him.

Several eunuchs immediately stepped forward and opened an official box sealed with vermilion lacquer.

The box was opened, and inside lay a neatly stacked stack of brand-new Ming Dynasty Baotong silver notes.

The banknotes were exquisitely made, and the vermilion seal of the "Banknote Administration Office" remained bright and eye-catching even under the gloomy sky. Each banknote represented a fortune enough to make an ordinary family rich for a lifetime.

“Mr. Sun,” Wang Tiqian’s voice regained some of the dignity of a eunuch from the Directorate of Ceremonial, but still carried a smile, “His Majesty’s decree: The great victory in Liaodong has enhanced our national prestige, and the soldiers who risked their lives deserve generous rewards. This is a set of Ming Baotong silver notes, totaling two hundred thousand taels, as a reward for the entire army.”

He paused, then added, "His Majesty also said that transporting 200,000 taels of silver to the border is not only a long journey, but also too conspicuous. With these silver notes, you can redeem them at any official granary or bank in Guan Ning at any time, which is convenient and quick. You must distribute them as soon as possible so that the soldiers can have a cup of hot wine even in this freezing weather."

Not a single word was mentioned about rumors or framing; it was simply the most genuine and considerate reward, as if the turmoil in the capital had never occurred.

Then Wang Tiqian turned to the side and invited two middle-aged men with refined manners from among his entourage.

"This is Chief Physician Li from the Imperial Medical Academy, and this is Imperial Physician Zhang. His Majesty said that you, sir, have worked tirelessly for the country day and night, and he felt uneasy about it. Therefore, he specially dispatched these two skilled physicians to treat you personally."

Sun Chengzong's body was already trembling slightly.

Finally, Wang Tiqian personally took out a neatly folded garment from a brocade box. It was a jet-black sable cloak with glossy fur.

“Mr. Sun,” Wang Tiqian said in a very low voice, his expression extremely solemn, as if he were holding not a piece of clothing, but a weighty entrustment, “His Majesty… asked this old servant to pass on a message to you.”

He paused, then said, word by word, "His Majesty said that he should be in the most arduous, dangerous, and snowy place in the empire. However, he is stationed in the capital, while you, sir, are fighting for the country in this icy and snowy land at the age of seventy. He... feels guilty."

The words "I feel ashamed" were uttered lightly, yet they struck the hearts of everyone present like a boulder crashing into their souls.

Wang Tiqian gently unfolded the cloak and continued, "So, this cloak came first for him. It's to shield him from the biting Liaodong wind and to let him see the loyal and brave soldiers in the camp!"
The Emperor also said he had only one request of you, sir: please take good care of your precious health and refrain from handling everything personally, for your arms support the entire Ming Dynasty. Finally… the Emperor asked you to wait for him; one day, when he achieves his goal, he will drink this cup with you atop the walls of Shengjing!

The entire Liaodong region seemed to fall completely silent at that moment.

It was so quiet you could hear the snowflakes falling on your fur coat.

Wang Tiqian stepped forward and solemnly draped the large mink coat over Sun Chengzong's shoulders.

The cloak was much heavier than I had imagined.

In that instant, a surge of scalding heat seemed to run straight down from his shoulder, causing this upright and unyielding minister, who remained calm even in the face of a collapsing mountain, to tremble almost imperceptibly.

His aged face, etched with the deep lines of the Liaodong winds and frosts, flushed with an unusual redness. Tears welled in his eyes, but he held them back tightly.

Sun Chengzong remained silent, but subconsciously reached out his rough hand and tightly grasped the warm and smooth fur on his chest. The touch was so real, as if he were not holding a piece of clothing, but the heart of the emperor who was thousands of miles away, yet here with him, sharing the wind and snow and worrying about the affairs of the country!

(End of this chapter)