Chapter Forty-Nine: The Oirat

Chapter Forty-Eight: Northern Yuan

The Grand Empress Dowager emerged from her recollections and spoke, “Many of your bodyguards have seen battle. You should learn from them whenever you can. Once you grow stronger, I will invite Duke Zhang Fu of England to teach you archery and horsemanship.”

Zhu Qizhen felt a quiet joy in his heart upon hearing this.

The Grand Empress Dowager had always imposed certain restrictions on Zhu Qizhen in these matters. Wang Zhen, on the other hand, was intent on building Zhu Qizhen’s military merit, sharing tales from the era of Emperor Taizong whenever possible. Yet the Grand Empress Dowager kept this in check.

The reason was simple: she understood young men all too well. They often imagined that commanding armies and waging war was an easy affair.

But the Grand Empress Dowager had truly experienced warfare. When defending Beijing, she always carried a dagger—not to kill the enemy, but to ensure she could end her own life at any moment.

Had Zhu Qizhen still possessed his former reckless attitude, she would never have allowed him to meddle in military affairs. But his recent conduct had exceeded her expectations, and besides, the realm left to him by her son was far from a peaceful one.

It wasn’t that she looked down on Wang Zhen; his methods could inspire, but did he truly know how to wage war?

Duke Zhang Fu was the foremost man in the army. Even during Emperor Xuanzong’s reign, there was intent to have the Duke instruct the crown prince. Moreover, the Duke had suffered losses in his lineage—only one heir, who at any time might not survive.

If the Emperor forged a friendship with the Duke, perhaps he could gain his support, and the generals under the Duke’s command could become the Emperor’s own cadre.

Zhu Qizhen said, “Thank you, Grandmother.”

The Grand Empress Dowager smiled lightly. “There’s no need for thanks among family. Don’t worry; for now, I merely want you to observe. The realm is not at peace, and as Emperor you must not forget the northern threat, though you mustn’t devote yourself wholly to it. Still, nothing major will happen today.”

“I have met Fang Zheng before,” she continued.

Zhu Qizhen wanted to ask why she inquired about someone she had already met, but suddenly realized: “She’s saying this for my benefit.”

The Grand Empress Dowager pressed on, “He is an old general left by Emperor Taizong. The Tatars will find no advantage under his command.”

Zhu Qizhen replied, “With your assurance, Grandmother, I am at ease.”

The Empress Dowager said, “Return and rest well tonight. If there is anything, we shall speak tomorrow.”

She could see that today’s events had greatly affected Zhu Qizhen.

After bowing, Zhu Qizhen returned to the Palace of Heavenly Purity.

Indeed, the Grand Empress Dowager’s insight was unparalleled; today’s events had truly shaken him. It wasn’t that he feared battle, but that this conflict had pierced his false sense of security.

He knew well of the historical disaster at Tumubao, but had always believed it was the result of the Emperor’s own folly. Before Tumubao, Ming was powerful.

Yet now he realized things were not so certain.

Datong was very close to Beijing. Datong and Xuanfu, together known as Xuanda, formed the capital’s defensive line. Should Datong fall, only a single pass would separate the enemy from the city.

Today, Datong was safe.

But that did not guarantee its safety in the future.

Zhu Qizhen mused, “It seems counterattacking the steppe is inevitable.”

He need not guess the thoughts of the historical Emperor; even now, he felt a thorn in his throat. Beijing was simply too close to the frontier, far too close.

So close that Zhang Xuan could not sit at ease within the capital.

He could not fathom how Ming emperors endured such anxiety. Was it habit made second nature?

Zhu Qizhen summoned Wang Zhen, “Call Ma Shun here.”

Wang Zhen immediately complied.

Not long after, Ma Shun hurried in, knelt upon the golden bricks of the Palace of Heavenly Purity, and said, “Your servant greets Your Majesty.”

Zhu Qizhen gazed at Ma Shun’s flying fish robe, draped over his shoulders. The fish motif, resembling a dragon, made the robe appear almost like imperial garb: the dragon’s head upon the chest, claws at the shoulders, and its body flowing across the back—an image of utmost power and authority.

Zhu Qizhen asked coldly, “Commander Ma, you seem quite idle.”

At his words, Ma Shun broke out in a cold sweat and immediately kowtowed, “I acknowledge my fault, I acknowledge my fault.”

From Ma Shun’s vantage, he saw only Zhu Qizhen’s small feet encased in golden boots, pacing before him. Not daring to delay, he said, “Military intelligence from Datong should reach the palace first, not the cabinet. The fault is mine.”

Zhu Qizhen nodded, “Indeed.”

Seeing that the Emperor was waiting, Ma Shun’s heart raced as he searched for more to say. “The covert sentries on the steppe have not yet been properly arranged. I failed to report this in advance—another fault of mine.”

Zhu Qizhen nodded again, “Continue.”

Ma Shun was at a loss for words.

He did have faults—being newly appointed, he may have overstepped, and many things could be counted as mistakes. Yet he wasn’t sure whether to confess all.

He had no idea what Zhu Qizhen was probing for.

Ma Shun stole a glance at Wang Zhen, but Wang’s eyelids did not even flicker. Inwardly, Ma Shun cursed, “Old fox! And after all I’ve done for your nephew!”

Wang Zhen had previously instructed Ma Shun to treat his nephew Wang Li with utmost care, almost as if serving an ancestor.

But now, at a critical moment, Wang Zhen said not a word in his defense.

Ma Shun cautiously offered, “If Your Majesty deems me guilty, then guilty I am.”

Zhu Qizhen sneered, “Remember that. Now tell me, have you finished gathering information on Northern Yuan as I ordered? Submit it if you have.”

Ma Shun finally breathed a sigh of relief. “I prepared it long ago.” He had his attendant bring forth a wooden case.

Shi Jing stepped forward, checked it for hidden weapons, then placed it before the imperial desk.

Zhu Qizhen took it up, finding a thick stack, numbering in the hundreds of pages. Ancient writing was generally large, so the quantity did not necessarily mean much content.

He told Ma Shun, “Rise.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Ma Shun replied, standing carefully—feeling a chill across his back, soaked with sweat. Whether it was the lingering heat of autumn or the formal attire, he could not say.

Zhu Qizhen had no further concern for Ma Shun, and now turned to examine the documents. Much he already knew; some was new.

First, what he already understood—the origins of Northern Yuan.

In the first year of Hongwu, Xu Da conquered the capital, and Emperor Huizong of Yuan retreated to the steppe. Yet even with Huizong gone, Yuan rule did not disappear from the central plains.

At that time, Shanxi and Gansu were held by Kuokuo Temur; Liaodong by Naha Chu; Yunnan by Bazhalawarmi, the Prince of Liang.

In the ensuing years, Zhu Yuanzhang subdued each in turn.

Hongwu Year One: Taiyuan seized, Xu Da defeated Kuokuo Temur, who fled to Gansu with eighteen riders. Hongwu Year Two: Shangdu fell. Xu Da routed Kuokuo Temur, who escaped to Karakorum with a handful of followers.

Then Emperor Huizong died, and his son Borjigin Ayushiridara succeeded him at Karakorum. He was called Emperor Zhao by Northern Yuan, but Ming no longer recognized his regime.

They called him only “Khan.”

Upon reading this, Zhu Qizhen sighed inwardly: “Emperor Huizong was truly a fortunate soul—the king of a lost nation, yet never met the fate of one. Through the ages, only he enjoyed such luck.”

He read on.

Hongwu Year Four: The founder sent Xu Da as grand general to lead a three-pronged northern campaign, which failed.

Hongwu Year Eleven: Borjigin Ayushiridara died, succeeded by his brother Borjigin Togus Temur, who adopted the reign title Tianyuan. The Mongols called him the Tianyuan Emperor.

Hongwu Year Fourteen: The founder appointed Fu Youde as general for the southern campaign, with Mu Ying and Lan Yu as deputies, attacking Yunnan.

Hongwu Year Twenty: The founder made Feng Sheng grand general, and Fu Youde and Lan Yu each led two hundred thousand men to attack Liaodong. This was the famous Battle of Fishing Children. Naha Chu surrendered. The Tianyuan Emperor fled in haste and was killed by his own men. Most of Northern Yuan surrendered to Ming.

From then on, the Borjigin clan lost real power; though they retained some influence on the steppe, it was nowhere near what it once had been.

In Zhu Qizhen’s view, this was akin to losing the country a second time.

Even in later generations, these events were renowned; Zhu Qizhen had heard much of them, and as he read the documents, they felt familiar.