pappabearbooks Chapter 2 Sharpening the Knife at Midnight - New
Chapter 2 Sharpening the Knife at Midnight - New
On the seventh day of the tenth month of the fifteenth year of Chongzhen's reign, at midnight.
The Forbidden City was shrouded in the darkness of late autumn.
The Qianqing Palace, which is usually a turbulent place during the day, is now completely silent. The white marble square is deserted, with only the iron eaves fluttering in the cold wind, occasionally making a crisp sound before being swallowed up by the boundless night.
The lights were still on in the East Warm Pavilion.
It wasn't like the rows of candlesticks in the main hall; there was only a single lamp.
Inside the copper lamp, a thick tallow candle burned down to about half its original size, its flame flickering steadily, casting the shadow of a person sitting motionless on the window paper.
Li Ce was not wearing a dragon robe.
He was dressed in a black casual robe, with only dark gold cloud patterns trimmed at the collar and cuffs. He sat behind a long sandalwood table, with the blue cloth booklet that had been thrown on the hall earlier that day, and several newly delivered secret reports spread out in front of him.
The booklet was turned to a certain page.
Under the candlelight, the paper was yellowed and brittle, but the ink was still clear.
The list contains seven names, each with a brief note below it—official rank, place of origin, main charges, and location of evidence.
Seven names, like seven nails.
Li Ce's finger lightly tapped the first name—Zhou Yanru. Then it swept across the second name, "Chen Yan," and stopped at the third name, "Wang Pu."
He looked up and gazed out the window.
It was pitch black outside the window, not even a star could be seen. It was the darkest hour before dawn.
It is also the best time to sharpen a knife.
One quarter past midnight.
A very soft knocking sound came from outside the window. Three long knocks, two short knocks. After a brief pause, two more short knocks.
"Enter."
Li Ce didn't look up.
The door slid open silently. A figure flashed in like a ghost, slamming the door shut behind him with a clean, swift motion, without making a sound.
The man was in his early forties, with a thin face, slightly high cheekbones, and lips pressed into a straight line.
He was dressed in a dark blue robe, with an embroidered spring knife at his waist. The scabbard was made of plain ebony and had no decorations.
Li Ruolian, Deputy Commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.
He bowed immediately upon entering the hall, his posture respectful, but Li Ce could see that beneath his lowered eyelids, his gaze was rapidly sweeping over the books on the table, the angle of the candlesticks, and the emperor's hand holding the vermilion pen—this was a man accustomed to walking in the dark and constantly assessing risks.
"Your subject, Li Ruolian, has been summoned to an audience."
The sound was not loud, but had a unique, flat quality, like the back of a sharpened knife.
"Take a seat."
Li Ce finally looked up and pointed to the two brocade stools that had been prepared in front of him.
Li Ruolian expressed her gratitude, but only sat on the front third of the brocade stool, her back still straight.
The hall fell silent.
The candlelight flickered.
Li Ce didn't speak, and Li Ruolian didn't ask. The only sounds between them were the faint crackling of the burning candle wick and the distant, indistinct sound of the wind outside the window.
About fifteen minutes later...
Footsteps sounded again outside the door. This time the sound was completely different—heavy, solid, with the clanging of metal armor plates rubbing against each other.
"Your Majesty, Zhang Weixian, the Commander of the Beijing Garrison, has been summoned to an audience."
"Enter."
The door opened. A burly general strode in.
The man was about thirty-five or thirty-six years old, with a square face, dark and rough skin, and a pair of bright eyes under his thick eyebrows.
He wore a worn-out suit of iron armor, the plates covered in dust and dark brown stains, as if he had rushed there without even removing his armor. At his waist hung a heavy goose-feather saber, the cord binding the hilt worn smooth and shiny.
Zhang Weixian, Commander-in-Chief of the Beijing Garrison.
After entering the hall, he clasped his hands in a standard military salute: "This humble general, Zhang Weixian, greets Your Majesty!" His voice was loud and clear, sounding particularly abrupt in the quiet warm pavilion.
Li Ruolian's brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.
"Seats available." Li Ce used those two words again.
Zhang Weixian thanked them and sat down on another brocade stool. He sat so firmly that the stool groaned slightly.
After sitting down, he placed his hands on his knees and stared straight ahead into the void, as if he were in a training ground rather than a warm pavilion.
Two people, two different temperaments.
Like a snake lurking in the shadows, quiet, alert, and ready to strike a fatal blow at any moment.
Like a tiger in the open, fierce and direct, carrying the murderous aura that rolls over from the battlefield.
Li Ce's gaze lingered on each of their faces for a moment.
Then he spoke:
"Do you know why I summoned you here?"
Li Ruolian immediately bowed: "Your Majesty, if you have any orders, I will gladly die for you—"
"I didn't ask you."
Li Ce interrupted him, turning his gaze to Zhang Weixian:
"Admiral Zhang, please speak."
Zhang Weixian was taken aback, clearly not expecting the emperor to ask him first. He hesitated for a couple of breaths—genuinely considering, not making excuses—then raised his head, looked at the emperor, and uttered two words:
"kill."
Two words, slammed hard onto the ground.
Li Ruolian's eyelids twitched slightly.
Li Ce laughed: "Kill whom?"
"Those who deserve to die." Zhang Weixian's voice was completely flat. "Whoever His Majesty commands me to kill, I will kill."
"If the person I order you to kill," Li Ce leaned forward slightly, "is the current Grand Secretary, a Grand Secretary of the Cabinet, or a general wielding military power?"
"The same." Zhang Weixian answered without the slightest hesitation, "Wearing armor, I only recognize His Majesty, not official titles."
Li Ce stared at him for a moment, then nodded.
Then, he pushed the blue cloth booklet over.
"have a look."
Li Ruolian took a deep breath and picked up the booklet with both hands. His movements were steady, but his fingertips trembled almost imperceptibly when they touched the rough blue cloth cover.
Under the candlelight, his expression gradually became solemn as he turned the pages.
The booklet contained only seven names. But the notes under each name were enough to shake the government and the public.
Zhou Yanru: Embezzled grain transport funds, illegally traded salt permits, and formed cliques to disrupt government affairs. Evidence: A ledger hidden in a compartment under the floor tiles of the West Flower Hall in the mansion (already seized); the confession of Shen Maocai, a salt merchant from Yangzhou (currently in custody).
Chen Yan: Embezzled project funds, withheld military rations in Liaodong, and colluded with Shanxi merchants. Evidence: Confession of a former official of Shuntian Prefecture (in custody); copies of secret letters exchanged with Fan Yongdou of Shanxi (intercepted).
Wang Pu: Avoided battle, allowed the enemy to escape, falsely claimed military merits, withheld military pay, and colluded with the Mongols. Evidence: Confession of his subordinate, Zhao Dezhu (in custody); embezzlement records from the Xuanfu Armory (already seized).
……
Each one is enough to result in beheading, or even the extermination of an entire family.
But Li Ruolian saw things more deeply—how vast was the network of relationships involving these seven people? What chain reaction would be triggered by taking action against them? The taxes of Jiangnan, the morale of the troops in the nine border regions, the operation of the imperial court…
He closed the booklet, his hands slightly cold.
"Your Majesty," he began, his voice more cautious than before, "the seven individuals mentioned in this register hold high positions of power and have complex relationships. Chen Yan, in particular, seems to have connections to Shanxi merchants, who in turn have ties to border trade and Liaodong..."
He paused, not finishing his sentence, but his meaning was clear: taking action now would involve too many people and be too risky.
Zhang Weixian also came over to watch. He read slowly, his brows furrowing more and more. When he got to the part about Wang Pu, he suddenly punched his thigh, the metal armor clashing together with a dull "clang".
"That scoundrel Wang Pu!"
He made a sound through clenched teeth, and his eyes instantly reddened:
"In the winter of the eleventh year of Chongzhen's reign, there was a snowfall in Xuanfu... At that time, I was still a guerrilla commander in Datong, and I knew about the Yefuling incident!"
Thirty-seven scout brothers were besieged by the Jurchens for three days. Because of this bastard's refusal to fight and provide reinforcements, they were all killed in battle; not a single one survived!
"That bastard even dared to claim credit and reward afterwards!" He raised his head, looking at Li Ce, his eyes bloodshot: "Your Majesty! If you allow me to do it, I am willing to personally behead him!"
Li Ce looked at him quietly: "I'm giving you a chance."
Zhang Weixian's chest heaved violently: "This humble general..."
"Let me finish speaking first." Li Ce raised his hand to stop him, then turned his gaze back to Li Ruolian:
"Li Tongzhi, you say the risk is great. I ask you, if we do nothing now, and wait for them to get wind of the situation, then they might collude with the gentry of Jiangnan, incite the border troops, or even use Shanxi merchants to liaise with foreign enemies—wouldn't that be a great risk?"
Li Ruolian's Adam's apple bobbed: "Your Majesty... Your Majesty is worried that if we were to take action against all seven people and their associates at the same time, we might not have enough manpower, and the information would be difficult to control. Although the Western Garden is under control, outside the palace..."
"So I'm only giving you the names of these seven people." Li Ce pulled out a new list from under the table and pushed it over. "These seven are the knots in the internet. Once you pry them open, you'll naturally be able to pull out the people behind them."
Li Ruolian took the list. In addition to the seven people on the list, there were more than a dozen other names, all of whom were the students, former officials, relatives by marriage, or managers of these seven people.
"Three days." Li Ce held up one finger and tapped the list:
"The first batch consists of these seven people. Their names, main charges, and the location of known evidence are all listed in the booklet."
"I order you to bring these seven people to the imperial prison within three days. Not one must die, not one must escape, and not a single word must leak out—can you do it?"
Li Ruolian raised his head. The candlelight illuminated his thin face, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
Three days. Capture seven top-ranking civil and military officials. And keep it completely secret.
This is gambling with your life.
But he looked into the emperor's eyes—eyes that held no probing, no hesitation, only a cold, almost cruel certainty.
He knew this wasn't a discussion, it was an order.
It's also an opportunity. The Embroidered Uniform Guard has been suppressed by the Eastern Depot and despised by civil officials for many years. If this campaign succeeds…
He took a deep breath and gritted his teeth:
"able."
"But I need two orders." He quickened his pace, clearly already in the zone. "First, three hundred elite guards from the Northern Garrison Command must be transferred, but only with His Majesty's special decree, otherwise the Ministry of War and the Five Military Commissions will definitely intervene. Second, the third prison area on the east side of the Imperial Prison must be cleared out and the prisoners placed in solitary confinement, isolated from the outside world."
"Here you go." Li Ce pulled a yellow silk scroll from the table and threw it in front of him.
It wasn't an imperial edict, but a blank travel document. The emperor's bright red jade seal was already affixed to it.
"You fill in the name yourself. You make up the reason yourself. I only care about the result."
Li Ruolian held the imperial edict in both hands. The scroll was light, but he felt it weighed a ton. This was power, and also a shackle. If successful, he would be the emperor's sharpest blade; if unsuccessful, he would be the sole scapegoat.
"Your subject," he kowtowed heavily, "is willing to die ten thousand times over."
"Get up." Li Ce's gaze shifted to Zhang Weixian:
"Admiral Zhang."
"Your subordinate is here!"
"Your task is more important."
Li Ce pulled out a map of the capital's defenses from the table and spread it out. The map marked the locations of the nine city gates with vermilion ink, as well as the directions of the three major camps of the Beijing Garrison.
"The Beijing garrison must accomplish three tasks within three days."
Zhang Weixian knelt on one knee: "Your Majesty, please give the order!"
"First," Li Ce pointed to four points: Deshengmen, Andingmen, Dongzhimen, and Xizhimen, "on the grounds that 'the Jurchen cavalry may infiltrate,' we will immediately strengthen the defenses of these four gates."
Entry is permitted, but exit is not. Vehicles carrying large quantities of goods or letters will be subject to strict inspection. Even birds flying over the area must be identified as male or female.
"Second," he said, tracing the seven marked points on the map, which were the locations of the residences of the seven targets, "we will dispatch eight hundred musketeers from the Brave Guard Battalion, breaking them up into smaller groups, and have them lie in ambush in the streets and alleys surrounding these seven residences."
If Li Ruolian's men resist when they take action, they should be killed without exception; if there is outside assistance, they should be intercepted on the spot.
"Third," he emphasized the location of "Beijing Garrison" on the map, then looked up at Zhang Weixian:
"Keep an eye on the interior of the Beijing Garrison."
Zhang Weixian's expression hardened.
"You know better than I how many of the five battalions and three thousand battalions of the Beijing Garrison are former subordinates of Xun Gui, and how many are connected with these seven people."
Li Ce's voice turned cold. "Anyone who makes any unusual moves, anyone who conspires with others, anyone who tries to send messages outside the city... arrest them first and report later."
Zhang Weixian clasped his hands in a fist salute: "This subordinate obeys the order! But..." He hesitated for a moment, "Within the Beijing Garrison, there are indeed several generals who have close ties with the Duke of Cheng's mansion and Chen Yan and others. If they discover this, there may be unrest. Should we... transfer them away first?"
"No need," Li Ce shook his head. "I need a few heads to hang in the training ground, so everyone can see them—"
He paused, then spoke slowly and deliberately:
"From this day forward, the soldiers of the Ming Dynasty will obey only me."
Zhang Weixian trembled, and clasped his hands tightly in a fist salute: "This subordinate understands!"
"Go and prepare," Li Ce waved his hand. "Remember, three days. I'm only giving you three days."
The two bowed and withdrew.
Li Ruolian walked ahead, her footsteps light and silent. Zhang Weixian followed behind, his nails clanging.
As they reached the door, Li Ce suddenly spoke again:
"Li Ruolian".
"Your subject is here." Li Ruolian immediately turned around.
"Give Chen Yan a single cell in the imperial prison," Li Ce said calmly. "Prepare writing materials. Tell him that I am giving him a chance—to write down everything he knows about the dealings between Shanxi merchants and the collusion between border generals. If he writes well, I will grant him a proper burial."
Li Ruolian's pupils contracted slightly: "Your subject understands."
"And another thing," Li Ce picked up a small porcelain bottle from the table and tossed it over, "Wang Pu's lieutenant general, Zhao Dezhu, is a spineless coward. But not spineless enough. You know how to use this bottle of 'True Word Powder'."
Li Ruolian caught the porcelain bottle; it was icy cold to the touch. He knew exactly what it was—a secret medicine of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. After taking it, the person would be in a daze, answering any question, but once the effects wore off, they would be rendered useless.
"Your Majesty... understands."
The two left.
The door closed.
Li Ce was left alone in the East Warm Pavilion again, along with the flickering solitary candle.
He sat for a long time, so long that the candle flame burned down a bit, and the candle wax piled up into a new small mountain on the edge of the bronze cup.
Then he reopened the blue cloth booklet and found the last few pages.
There was no name there, only some fragmented records:
"Fan Yongdou, a merchant from Shanxi, frequently traveled between the interior and exterior of the pass, and his goods were of dubious quality. He had financial dealings with Chen Yan."
"Zhang Dengke, the military commander of Xuanfu, had a close relationship with Wang Pu and once accepted horses as gifts from the Mongols."
"Han Zanzhou, the eunuch in charge of Nanjing, was greedy for money and had many dealings with salt merchants in Jiangnan."
These are all "lines". By following the lines, you can find more "knots".
But Li Ce's gaze finally settled on a newly added line of small print:
"Gao Wencai, a centurion of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, is Li Ruolian's confidant. He comes from a poor family and his mother is ill. He is capable."
He picked up his vermilion brush and drew a small circle next to the line of text.
The circle was very red, like blood.
The first moment of Yin hour.
Li Ruolian returned to the Northern Garrison Office.
He didn't enter the main hall, but went directly into an inconspicuous side room in the backyard. Three people were already waiting in the room, all dressed in civilian clothes, but with straight backs and sharp eyes.
"My lord." The three bowed in unison.
Li Ruolian didn't speak. She first placed the blank driver's pass on the table, then took out the blue cloth booklet and turned to the page with her name on it.
"Seven people," he said calmly. "Three days. They need to be alive, quiet, and secretive."
The three of them looked down, and their expressions changed.
"My lord, this..." one of the older men spoke up, "Chen Yan's residence has more than fifty guards, most of whom are skilled martial artists. Wang Pu is even more so; although he himself is in Xuanfu, his son Wang Ke is in the capital, and his residence has over a hundred personal guards, all veterans of the border army..."
"So His Majesty gave us this." Li Ruolian pointed to the blank travel permit, "and also gave it to someone." He looked out the window, "Zhang Weixian's Brave Guard Battalion will cooperate with us."
The three exchanged a glance and breathed a slight sigh of relief, but their expressions remained solemn.
"Each person on the list will lead a team," Li Ruolian began assigning tasks. "Old Sun, you're in charge of Zhou Yanru and Chen Yan. Old Zhao, you're in charge of the remaining three civil officials. I'll take care of Wang Pu's son and the other military officers."
"When to make our move?"
"Tomorrow night at midnight," Li Ruolian said, "at the same time, all seven locations will move simultaneously. Two hours before the operation, I will give you the specific routes and rendezvous points."
"Then tonight..."
"Tonight," Li Ruolian took out the small porcelain bottle from her bosom, "we'll go to the imperial prison first and have Zhao Dezhu tell us everything that needs to be said. Especially Wang Pu's shady dealings in Xuanfu, and the other generals he might have colluded with—not a single name can be left out."
"yes!"
The three men accepted the order and withdrew.
Li Ruolian sat alone in the side room, watching the oil lamp flickering on the table.
Three days.
He closed his eyes, his mind racing through all the possible scenarios that could go wrong: information leak, the target's excessive resistance, poor coordination from the Brave Guard Battalion, interference from other forces...
Each one could cost him his life.
But each of these opportunities could also be a chance for Li Ruolian, and even the entire Embroidered Uniform Guard, to rise again.
He opened his eyes, his gaze filled with unwavering resolve.
At the same time, at the Beijing Garrison.
Zhang Weixian did not return to his governor's mansion, but went directly to the garrison of the Yongwei Battalion.
Sun Yingyuan, the military commander of the Yongwei Battalion, was already waiting in the tent.
He was a wiry man in his early thirties with a scar on his face that ran from his brow bone to the corner of his mouth. It was left when he fought against bandits with Lu Xiang-sheng in Julu in the eleventh year of the Chongzhen Emperor's reign.
"Admiral." Sun Yingyuan clasped his hands in greeting.
Zhang Weixian waved his hand and walked straight to the sand table—a detailed model of Beijing, complete with streets, markets, government offices, and mansions.
"Look at these seven places." Zhang Weixian marked seven places on the sand table with a wooden stick.
Sun Yingyuan leaned closer for a look and gasped, "These are all..."
"Yes." Zhang Weixian interrupted him, "His Majesty has ordered that the Embroidered Uniform Guard will arrest people at midnight tomorrow. What we need to do," he drew seven routes with a wooden pole, eventually converging on several city gates and the direction of the capital garrison, "is to ensure that these seven roads are unobstructed. Anyone who tries to obstruct, report, or provide assistance—kill them."
Sun Yingyuan's eyes sharpened: "How many people do you need?"
"Eight hundred musketeers and two hundred cavalry," Zhang Weixian said. "The men must be reliable and tight-lipped. You have one day to choose them; they must be in position and in hiding by 9 PM tomorrow night."
"What about the Five Armies Camp and the Three Thousand Camp..." Sun Yingyuan lowered his voice, "those few who have connections with the Duke of Cheng's Mansion and Chen Yan will probably hear the news."
A cold glint flashed in Zhang Weixian's eyes:
"Therefore, His Majesty has another order—within the Beijing Garrison, anyone who makes any unusual moves must be arrested first and reported later."
He pulled a token from his pocket and slapped it on the edge of the sand table. It was the troop deployment token of the Commander-in-Chief of the Beijing Garrison.
"From now on, the entire Yongwei Battalion is on high alert. Not a single soldier is to leave the camp without my order." He stared at Sun Yingyuan. "You will personally go to the Fifth Army Battalion and the Three Thousand Battalion to deliver the order that Jurchen spies may have infiltrated, and all battalions must strengthen their defenses. No officer is allowed to leave the camp—anyone who disobeys will be executed."
Sun Yingyuan clasped his hands in a deep fist salute: "This humble general obeys!"
He turned to leave, but Zhang Weixian called him back:
"Ying Yuan".
"Admiral?"
Zhang Weixian paused for a moment, then lowered his voice: "If this succeeds, we will both be His Majesty's heroes. If we fail..." He didn't finish his sentence, but simply patted Sun Yingyuan on the shoulder, "Be careful."
Sun Yingyuan touched the scar on his face and grinned: "Don't worry, Admiral. Back when I was with Commander Lu, I saw battles far more dangerous than this. We soldiers are duty-bound to obey orders."
He strode out of the tent.
Zhang Weixian stood alone in front of the sand table, looking at the seven small flags representing the mansions, and then at the location symbolizing the Beijing Garrison.
The candlelight cast his shadow on the tent wall, which swayed and shrank with the flickering flame.
He knew that starting tomorrow night, bloodshed would break out in Beijing.
And this bleeding has only just begun.
The third quarter of the Yin hour.
East Warm Pavilion of Qianqing Palace.
Li Ce blew out the candle.
He didn't sleep, but went to the window and pushed it open a crack.
The late autumn night wind swept in, carrying a biting chill. In the distance, the outline of the Forbidden City slowly became clear in the gradually brightening sky.
Further away, the streets and alleys of Beijing were still asleep.
Those who are asleep are unaware of what is about to happen.
Those who are awake are sharpening their knives.
Li Ce took a deep breath of the cool air and then slowly exhaled.
"This is the seventh time."
He spoke softly, as if to himself, or perhaps to this sleeping land.
The sky outside the window changed from inky black to deep blue, with a hint of gray and white.
A new day is truly about to begin.
The knife was already sharpened.