Chapter 54: The Ming Dynasty’s Version of “I Have a Dream,” Morale Soars

Two hundred and sixty years ago, the Great Founder rose amid chaos, marching from the south to the north, overthrowing the Yuan dynasty and founding the Ming. He gave the people, long battered by war and famine, a place to call home and a life to strive for. Thereafter, the Great Founder and the Yongle Emperor led thirteen northern campaigns against the Mongols, securing peace for the citizens of Ming.

The southern Japanese pirates and northern barbarians—remnants of the Yuan, the Tatars, and the Oirats—continued their incessant invasions, inflicting countless wounds upon our great Ming. Now, two hundred and sixty years later, we endure relentless assaults from the Jurchens.

The Ming stands on the brink, battered by natural disasters, famine among the people, an empty treasury, and foreign invasions. Though faced with immense hardships, I still harbor one dream.

I dream that one day, peace will reign within Ming; our people will live and work in harmony, the young nurtured, the learned taught, the labor rewarded, the sick cared for, the elderly supported, homes secured, and the weak protected.

I dream that one day, the people of Ming will eat their fill and dress warmly, with surplus grain and wealth in every home.

I dream that one day, our iron cavalry will trample the Jurchens, annihilating their kind and eradicating their clans.

I dream that one day, our iron cavalry will conquer all surrounding lands, making the Jurchens, Oirats, and Tatars our pastures;

that Western and Tibetan regions become our orchards;

that Burma, Siam, and Annam become the granaries of Ming;

that the southeastern coast becomes our fishing grounds;

and that Fusang and other lands become our mining districts.

In short, I want every person in Ming to live like a gentleman, our nation free from calamity, and the world governed by righteousness!

Soldiers, with this conviction, we shall strive together, pray together, fight together. The future I promise will surely come to pass.

Chongzhen’s words echoed loudly through the human megaphones on both sides. Every listener, whether general or scholar-official, was deeply moved. None had expected such grand ambition from this young new emperor.

Though stirring, they questioned in their hearts whether such dreams could ever be realized. Could the mighty Jurchens truly be turned into our pastures?

Seeing the silence among the soldiers, Chongzhen felt awkward. “I speak with such passion, yet you remain silent—what does this mean?”

After a brief pause, he continued, “I know that with Ming’s current strength, these goals are difficult. But I have been emperor less than three months, and I have already executed Wei Zhongxian and quelled factional strife—that is a good start.

Everyone must die someday; some deaths are as weighty as Mount Tai, others as light as a feather.

The Great Founder and Yongle Emperor’s thirteen northern campaigns brought us decades, even centuries, of peace, but after recovery, our enemies resumed their invasions.

Though young, I understand the truth: if you do not eradicate the weeds, they will sprout again with the slightest breeze.

If our generation does not fight, the next will face invasion again—and how many lives will be lost then?

The Jurchens’ seven great curses and ceaseless attacks on the Jinling Defense Line prove they have not given up on destroying Ming. Have not enough soldiers already died at Jinling?”

The soldiers fell silent, reflecting on the merciless slaughter and pillaging by the Jurchens. Could they expect mercy for their descendants? Hoping for mercy was as futile as hoping to defeat them without fighting.

Better to strike early than late. If our generation finishes the fight, the next can rebuild.

Chongzhen’s words awakened them, and a new spirit quietly rose in the square before Chengtian Gate.

The white-clad soldiers’ eyes reddened; they had fought at Sarhū, witnessed war’s brutality—hundreds of thousands slaughtered, comrades and kin lost forever. Without these pillars, families would soon break apart.

“Your Majesty, I am willing to follow you, to be a mere soldier at your vanguard, to trample the Jurchens,” declared Ma Xianglin, son of Qin Liangyu, with a resolute voice.

“I, Qin Gongming, Qin Zuoming, and Qin Zhuming pledge to serve Your Majesty!”

“Good!” Chongzhen shouted. “Remember your words when I lead the campaign in person!”

“Soldiers, I ask you, for our Ming, for our descendants, for our Chinese people—do you dare to fight?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Ma Xianglin and the commanders led the cry; the white-clad soldiers echoed it.

“Are you willing to fight?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“Can you fight?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Soon, not only the white-clad soldiers but all gathered before Chengtian Gate shouted in unison.

Clang… clang…

Chongzhen drew the imperial sword at his waist, its cold light sparkling under the sun.

“Soldiers, once I have rooted out factional strife, reformed the imperial guards, and trained the new army, I will lead you to trample the Jurchens—kill, kill, kill…”

“Kill, kill, kill…”

The cries of battle echoed across Chengtian Gate Square and reverberated throughout Beijing. The city’s military commanders, the Embroidered Uniform Guards, and the Five City Patrols were all stirred, joining the roar.

Though inwardly thinking Chongzhen naive and young, the Duke of England could only join in.

After some time, Chongzhen continued, “Soldiers, I have prepared fine wine and meat for you. I will wait here, and when you have captured the rebels, you shall feast heartily.”

“Li Banghua, Fang Zhenghua, coordinate with the Loyal and Upright Marquis to swiftly arrest those on the registry and imprison them in the imperial dungeons. I await your good news—go!”

“We obey!” The three took the order and, under Li Banghua’s command, squads accompanied by Embroidered Uniform Guards spread throughout the city.

The sounds of horses neighing, cries, and footsteps never ceased in Beijing.

Watching Qin Liangyu depart, Chongzhen exhaled quietly. Though his speech felt awkward and somewhat juvenile, it was a means to boost morale.

From this day forth, his words and the news of quelling factional strife would spread throughout Ming, stirring loyal soldiers and rekindling the people's hope for the dynasty. This was the ultimate goal.

The arrests began at midday and continued until evening, filling the imperial dungeons beyond capacity. The Ministry of Justice’s prisons and the Shuntian Prefecture jail had to be used as overflow, and this was only for military officials.

The operation proceeded smoothly; facing the fierce white-clad soldiers and Embroidered Uniform Guards, the eunuch faction offered no resistance.

Fires were lit one after another on Chengtian Gate Square, filling the air with the aroma of roasting meat as the white-clad soldiers divided into groups, devouring it heartily.

Though soldiers of the lowest rank under Qin Liangyu rarely went hungry, such generous, satisfying meals were a rare luxury.

Chongzhen had prepared wine, but Qin Liangyu stopped him, fearing it might cause trouble; each soldier was given only one bowl to drink now, with more to be distributed once camp was established.

After touring among the white-clad soldiers, Chongzhen returned to a tent beneath Chengtian Gate.

Inside sat Qin Liangyu, Ma Xianglin, Zhang Fengyi, Qin Gongming, Qin Zuoming, Qin Zhuming, and Qin Yiming, accompanied by Duke Zhang Weixian of England, Duke Zhu Chuncheng of Chengguo, and Vice Minister of War Li Banghua.

Dining with the emperor and two dukes at the same table, even the younger generals like Ma Xianglin felt some restraint, and Qin Liangyu was no exception.

Fortunately, the three attendants were experienced men familiar with military life.

Gradually, everyone relaxed and enjoyed the conversation, and Chongzhen listened with pleasure.

“Loyal and Upright Marquis, you will temporarily encamp here at Chengtian Gate Square tonight. After tomorrow’s court assembly, we will decide on your permanent stationing.”

The feast lasted until late night. Only then did Chongzhen return to the Eastern Warm Pavilion.

After washing his face with cold water, he felt rejuvenated.

All the generals to be arrested were in custody; though the civil officials had yet to be touched, that was only a matter of issuing orders.

The pressing question now: what to do with these men?

Killing them would be swift and simple, but half of the high-ranking ministers across the Six Boards and Nine Ministers were Wei Zhongxian’s men. Killing them would leave many vacancies—each vital to the court’s operation.

“Daban, notify the Loyal and Upright Marquis Qin Liangyu, Duke Zhang Weixian of England, Minister of Revenue Guo Yunhou, Vice Minister of War Li Banghua, and Grand Secretary Li Guopu to come to the Eastern Warm Pavilion at sunrise tomorrow. I have matters to discuss.”

“Also, tell Li Ruolian to print out the speech I gave today along with two poems. I want the whole city to see them tomorrow.”