Chapter 127 Tumu Fortress: Abolition of the Emperor and Life Imprisonment
Zhu Di finally saw something in the system shop that could travel through time and space. While he was hesitating, Li Shimin and his group beat him to it. Their Tang Dynasty was still a group tour.
That's too extravagant.
Judy is still planning to travel alone.
August 15th, the fourteenth year of the Zhengtong reign, Tumu Fortress.
The setting sun, like blood, dyed the desolate plain a deep ochre. The 500,000 Ming troops were in complete disarray, banners fallen, armor scattered everywhere. In the distance came the howling of the Oirat cavalry, like the barking of wolves on the steppe, growing ever closer.
They had never fought such a smooth battle before; it was like wolves among sheep.
Minister of War Kuang Ye, dragging his injured right leg, struggled to climb a small earthen slope. The sixty-two-year-old official's beard was stained with blood, and his official robes were tattered. He squinted his dim old eyes and looked westward—towards Yaoling, where the Emperor should have already retreated to Huailaiwei.
"Master Kuang! Let's go!"
Commander Guo Mao arrived with a dozen personal guards, shouting, "The Oirat people are about to attack!"
Kuang Ye shook his head and took out a military tally from his robes: "General Guo, take this to Juyong Pass and order the garrison commander to keep the city gates tightly shut..."
Before the words were finished, a blinding white light suddenly flashed across the sky. It was not ordinary lightning, but a straight, descending silver beam, like a pillar connecting heaven and earth.
When the thunder roared, the entire battlefield trembled.
"What is that?" Guo Mao stared wide-eyed in the direction where the lightning struck.
As the smoke and dust gradually dissipated, a tall figure became clearer. The man wore a bright yellow satin robe embroidered with golden dragons, a black gauze hat with folded tassels, and a sword at his waist. The golden dragon pattern on the scabbard gleamed in the afterglow. Most striking was his face—sword-like eyebrows reaching his temples, phoenix eyes brimming with power; though over fifty, he stood tall and straight as a pine tree.
"I told you so..."
The old minister suddenly let out a sob that was half-laughing and half-crying, "I told you long ago that eunuch Wang Zhen would ruin the country..." His age-spotted hands dug deep into the soil, "Now look what's happened, even Emperor Taizong is so angry he crawled out of his mausoleum..."
The fleeing soldiers around him stopped at the sound, and when they saw the man's face, they dropped their weapons and knelt down in worship.
"It's Emperor Yongle!"
Someone cried out in anguish. The cry was like wildfire sweeping across the wasteland, and more and more soldiers threw down their weapons and knelt on the ground. They may not have seen the real Son of Heaven, but the portraits in the Imperial Ancestral Temple, the legends in the military camp, and the stories told by their fathers had long imprinted the image of the emperor who conquered the world on horseback into the very marrow of every Ming soldier.
Zhu Qizhen fled eastward in haste, surrounded by his personal guards.
The twenty-three-year-old emperor was deathly pale, his dragon robe covered in dust. Behind him followed Wang Zhen, the Grand Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, a once arrogant and powerful eunuch now ashen-faced, who kept urging, "Your Majesty, hurry! The Oirat people are catching up!"
"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!"
Commander Ma Shun of the Embroidered Uniform Guard stumbled after them, stammering, "Ahead... ahead..."
Zhu Qizhen turned around impatiently: "What is it now?"
Ma Shun stammered, unable to speak, only pointing behind him. Zhu Qizhen looked in that direction and saw that the fleeing soldiers had suddenly stopped and knelt in the same direction. Further away, a familiar yet unfamiliar figure was striding towards them.
"That is..."
Zhu Qizhen's pupils contracted sharply. Although he had only seen the portrait during sacrifices at the Imperial Ancestral Temple, its majestic appearance and upright posture were exactly the same as the portrait of Emperor Taizong enshrined in the Imperial Ancestral Temple!
Wang Zhen cried out shrilly, "Protect the Emperor! There's an assassin impersonating Emperor Taizong!"
"Shut up!" Zhu Di roared, his voice booming like a bell. He stopped three steps in front of Zhu Qizhen, his gaze sharp as lightning: "I ask you, where are the 500,000 troops?"
In reality, the so-called 500,000-strong army was only about 200,000. Such exaggerations were common in ancient times, since it was impossible to count every single person when a large group of people were marching.
Zhu Qizhen's legs went weak, and he could barely stand.
His personal guards all knelt on the ground, none daring to raise their heads. Wang Zhen slumped to the ground, trembling all over.
"Grand...grandson..." Zhu Qizhen's voice was barely audible; he dared not answer.
Zhu Di snorted coldly and turned to the kneeling soldiers: "Get up! The Oirat people are right behind us. Are you all just kneeling here waiting to die?"
Duke Zhang Fu of Yingguo struggled to his feet from the stretcher. This 75-year-old general, who had served as Left Army Commander during the Yongle reign and whose father, Zhang Yu, had died saving Zhu Di, now wept bitterly, saying, "Your Majesty... this old minister is incompetent..."
Zhu Di supported the trembling old general, his voice softening slightly: "Minister Zhang is advanced in years, there's no need for you to blame yourself." Then he raised his voice again, "Soldiers of the Ming Dynasty! Do you still recognize me?"
"We recognize them!" Thousands of soldiers responded in unison, their voices echoing across the fields.
Zhu Di drew his sword from his waist with a clang.
Under the sunlight, the four seal characters "Yongle Imperial Inscription" on the sword were clearly visible: "Then why are you running? Pick up your weapons! Follow me to kill the enemy!"
Esen, the Taishi of the Oirat Mongols, led 20,000 elite cavalry in pursuit of the remnants of the Ming army. He frowned as he gazed at the Ming troops who had suddenly halted their rout in the distance: "What are the Ming army doing?"
Vanguard Bayan Temur reported: "Grand Tutor, the Ming army is saying... that their Emperor Taizong has appeared in spirit."
Esen laughed loudly: "Zhu Di has been dead for so many years, his bones have turned to ashes!" He raised his whip, "Continue the pursuit! Whoever captures Zhu Qizhen alive will be rewarded with a thousand gold pieces!"
However, as the Oirat cavalry approached, the sight before them caused them to instinctively rein in their horses. The Ming army not only stopped their rout but also formed a defensive formation. Standing at the front of the formation was a man in a dragon robe, holding a sharp sword, who appeared like a deity in the setting sun.
"Release the arrows!"
Esen, disbelieving in the superstition, ordered an attack.
As the arrows rained down, hundreds of shields suddenly appeared in the Ming army's ranks. Even more surprisingly, their defensive formation made perfect use of the terrain—the shield bearers in the front row occupied the high ground, the archers in the back row were hidden behind the earthen slopes, and there were musketeers lying in ambush on both sides.
"This...this is not the Ming army's command style just now." Esen felt a sense of foreboding.
Sure enough, when the Oirat cavalry entered firing range, the Ming army's arrows rained down like locusts, their accuracy and density completely different from before. Even more terrifying was that their volley of muskets was perfectly timed, striking the Oirat cavalry head-on at the height of their charge.
"Flanking maneuver on the left flank!" Yexian adjusted his tactics.
However, the Ming army's left flank was prepared. A troop of cavalry suddenly charged out from the flank, led by none other than the "Emperor Taizong." His horsemanship was superb, and his swordsmanship was fierce. In the blink of an eye, he had killed several Oirat warriors.
"That swordsmanship..." Esen gasped. He had heard his grandfather say when he was young that Zhu Di was skilled in riding and archery and loved cavalry charges.
Could it be...?
The morale of the Oirat army was thrown into chaos.
Even more alarming, a fresh force suddenly appeared on the right flank of the Ming army—the very troops of Duke Zhu Yong, who had previously been separated from the main force. This elite cavalry pierced through the Oirat army's ranks like a sharp blade, forming a pincer attack in conjunction with the main force.
"Retreat! The entire army retreats!" Esen hurriedly ordered, seeing that the situation was hopeless.
As night fell, the makeshift imperial tent was brightly lit with candles. Zhu Di sat in the main seat, while Zhu Qizhen stood below with his head bowed. The tent was filled with surviving high-ranking officials and generals: Duke of Ying, Zhang Fu; Duke of Cheng, Zhu Yong; Minister of War, Kuang Ye; Minister of Revenue, Wang Zuo... all with solemn expressions.
Looking at the row of old men, Zhu Di didn't know what to say.
Zhu Di opened the military report in front of him, his voice icy: "Of the 500,000 troops, more than half were killed in action, over 100,000 were captured, and all supplies were lost... Zhu Qizhen, do you know what a crime this is?"
Zhu Qizhen's forehead was beaded with cold sweat: "Grandson... knows his crime..."
"Know your crime?" Zhu Di slammed his hand on the table, causing the teacup to fall to the ground. "I will tell you what this crime is!"
He stood up and walked to the hanging map: "First, a strategic mistake!" He slammed his finger heavily on the Xuanfu location. "Why did you choose to take the open area outside Juyong Pass instead of the treacherous Zijing Pass? Aren't you just handing our lives to the Oirat cavalry?"
He turned and pointed at Zhu Qizhen: "Secondly, the failure of logistics! How much grain and fodder do 500,000 troops consume every day? You let that eunuch Wang Zhen allocate them haphazardly, causing the army to run out of food for three days!"
The ministers in the tent nodded secretly. These were precisely the points they had been advised against, which had been rejected.
"Thirdly, the crime of intelligence failure!" Zhu Di continued, "We rashly launched a personal expedition against the Oirat without knowing their true strength or weaknesses, and we didn't even know where Esen's main force was!"
"Fourthly, the fault of the commander! On August 14th, our army had already reached Tumu Fortress, why did we not quickly seize Huailai City? Instead, we set up camp in a place without water?"
Wang Zhen was now completely limp and weak.
"Fifthly, you made a poor choice of personnel!" Zhu Di's gaze swept like a knife over Wang Zhen, who was slumped on the ground. "You let a eunuch who knows nothing about military affairs take charge of military matters? What have you done to the military supervision system that I established back then?"
"Sixth, desertion in the face of battle!" Zhu Di's voice suddenly rose, "You ran away before the enemy even arrived, leaving the army leaderless and causing the entire front to collapse!"
At this point, Zhu Di suddenly drew his sword; with a flash of cold light, Wang Zhen's head fell to the ground. Blood splattered on Zhu Qizhen's dragon robe, but he dared not move.
"Seventh..."
Zhu Di pointed his sword at Zhu Qizhen, saying, "What is most unforgivable is that you have forgotten the principle that the emperor guards the nation's gates and the monarch dies for the state! If I hadn't come today, you would have become a prisoner of the Oirat Mongols!"
No wonder later generations said he was a student of the Oirat Mongols, yet he still had the nerve to come out alive.
Zhu Qizhen finally broke down, kneeling on the ground and weeping bitterly: "Great-grandfather... your grandson knows his mistake... I beg you..."
Zhu Di sheathed his sword and said coldly, "You will reflect on your actions here tonight. Tomorrow I will decide how to deal with you."
In the stillness of the night, Zhu Di stood alone on a high hill outside the camp, gazing at the starry sky. Footsteps sounded behind him; it was Zhang Fu, the Duke of Ying, approaching with a cane.
"His Majesty..."
The old general hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.
Zhu Di did not turn around: "Minister Zhang, did you think I was wrong to seize the throne from Jianwen back then?"
Seeing such descendants, even Zhu Di would have to reflect on his own actions.
Zhang Fu was greatly shocked: "Your Majesty, how can you say such a thing! If it weren't for Your Majesty, how could there be the Yongle Era of Prosperity..."
Zhu Di smiled bitterly: "But look at what we've become now. After only three generations, what has the Ming Dynasty become?" He pointed to the campfire in the distance, "Those fallen soldiers, whose blood should be blamed?"
Zhang Fu remained silent for a long time, then suddenly knelt down: "This old minister dares to... beg Your Majesty to restore the throne!"
Zhu Di shook his head: "I am only staying for a while." He looked southeast and said, "Issue the order that the entire army withdraw to Juyong Pass tomorrow. Also, send a fast horse to the capital and have Yu Qian prepare to defend the city."
He did not forget Yu Qian.
"Yu Qian?" Zhang Fu asked in surprise. "He's only the Left Vice Minister of War now..."
Zhu Di's gaze was deep: "This man is a man of great talent. Remember, upon returning to the capital, immediately arrest Ma Shun and other treacherous officials, and reinstate veteran ministers such as Wang Wen and Wang Ao." He paused, "Also, appoint the Prince of Cheng as regent."
Zhang Fu was shocked: "Then the Emperor..."
"Let him go to Nanjing to reflect on his actions."
Zhu Di sighed, "If he can come to his senses, perhaps his life can be spared in the future... The Ming Dynasty must always have someone to protect it."
At dawn the following day, Zhu Di ascended the command platform. In the morning light, his figure appeared exceptionally tall and majestic. The soldiers standing in neat rows below were full of spirit, a stark contrast to the defeated army of the previous day.
"Though our army was defeated yesterday, we are still honorable!" Zhu Di's voice boomed. "The Oirats think they can take advantage of the chaos to plunder our Ming territory? Dream on!"
The soldiers shouted in unison, "Long live! Long live!"
Zhu Di raised his hand to signal for silence: "From today onwards, the entire army will withdraw to Juyong Pass in an orderly manner. Duke Zhang Fu of Yingguo will lead the military, Duke Zhu Yong of Chengguo will be the vanguard, and Kuang Ye and Wang Zuo will be in charge of logistics." He glanced at the generals, "Remember, retreat is not a rout! Each unit must cover each other; those who disobey will be executed!"
After making the arrangements, Zhu Di turned to Zhu Qizhen, who was kneeling below the platform: "As for you..."
Zhu Qizhen trembled all over, his forehead pressed to the ground: "Your grandson is at your great-grandfather's mercy..."
"You shall depart for Nanjing immediately," Zhu Di said in a deep voice. "You shall not display any imperial regalia along the way, and shall only take ten guards with you. Once you arrive in Nanjing, you shall remain secluded and reflect on your mistakes, and copy the 'Veritable Records of the Taizu Emperor' once a day."
It was essentially the same thing: deposing the emperor and imprisoning him for life, just worded differently. If Zhu Di hadn't been staying so long, he would have made that grandson publicly apologize.
Zhu Qizhen felt as if he had been granted a pardon, and repeatedly kowtowed, saying, "Thank you, great-grandfather, for your mercy! Thank you, great-grandfather, for your mercy!"
Zhu Di snorted coldly: "Don't be in such a hurry to thank me. Remember, if there's a next time..." He patted the sword at his waist, "My sword doesn't recognize any kinship!"
Three days later, the main force of the Ming army safely withdrew to Juyong Pass. Zhu Di stood on the city wall, looking at the distant camp of the Oirat army, his brows furrowed.
"What is Your Majesty worried about?" Zhang Fu asked.
Zhu Di pointed to the Oirat army camp: "Esen will not give up so easily. He will definitely take advantage of the situation to move south and head straight for the capital."
Zhang Fu was greatly alarmed: "What should we do?"
"Issue the imperial decree." Zhu Di's gaze was resolute. "Appoint Yu Qian as Minister of War, with full authority over the defense of the capital. Deploy elite troops from the garrisons of Nanjing, Shandong, and Henan to the capital immediately to defend the emperor. Furthermore, open the armory and distribute weapons to able-bodied men in the city."
Zhang Fu hesitated, "Isn't this... a bit too much...?"
“In extraordinary times, extraordinary measures are needed.” Zhu Di interrupted him. “Tell Yu Qian that I want him to defend the capital for three months. After three months…” He looked south, “once the reinforcements from all over the country have arrived, I will make my own arrangements.”
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Author's Note: Writing the main battle was so frustrating, so I'm writing a side story. [crying emoji]
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