Chapter 122: Earthquake

Chapter 122: Earthquake

Tohua’s death recalibrated Zhu Qizhen’s expectations. Following the demise of his father, Esen compromised with Tuotuo Bukha, restoring a measure of authority to the latter—a prudent move at the time. Yet, as Esen aspired to reach the heights once occupied by Tohua, a new challenge emerged. Historically, it took Esen nearly a decade to stabilize his internal affairs, wage campaigns east and west, suppress Tuotuo Bukha, and finally turn his gaze south toward the Ming Dynasty, ultimately surpassing his father’s level of control over the steppes. This culminated in the Tumu Crisis.

However, Zhu Qizhen was determined not to let Esen consolidate the steppes so easily. Constrained by the military strength of the Ming, he did not intend to launch a massive northern expedition; he preferred to wait for the Oirat forces to descend. Thus, he estimated the decisive confrontation would occur around the thirteenth to fifteenth years of the Zhengtong era. It could not be delayed any longer. The friction between Esen and Tuotuo Bukha could not drag on indefinitely; if Esen did not move south, he would be forced to eliminate Tuotuo Bukha. This was dictated by their internal contradictions. In fact, Esen’s southward campaign against the Ming was merely a prelude to his move against Tuotuo Bukha. It was only through the feat of capturing a Ming emperor that Esen finally replaced the Golden Family to claim the title of Khan.

Zhu Qizhen had roughly a decade to prepare. His claim that the campaign would take ten years was half-truth, half-rhetoric. While he had a decade to reorganize, he did not believe the conflict in Luchuan would actually last that long. He expected a major battle in the first year, followed by peacekeeping operations. The main army could then begin its withdrawal. Even Meng Ying himself had no desire to spend a decade in Yunnan. How many decades did a man have? He was already in his fifties. Compared to dealing with Luchuan, Meng Ying was far more eager to focus on the Mongols.

As expected, Meng Ying replied, "I understand Your Majesty’s intent. My journey will ensure long-term stability in Luchuan. However, Luchuan is a mere speck of land; it will certainly not take ten years."

Zhu Qizhen nodded. "In truth, the reason I summoned you today was for another purpose: to have my personal guards stage a drill so you might see if any are worthy of advancement. Alas, the heavens do not favor us."

Meng Ying chuckled, "Your Majesty’s guards are all men of exceptional talent." This was a half-truth; while it carried the scent of flattery, it was not entirely insincere. Over the past few years, Zhu Qizhen had insisted on training in archery and horsemanship, and his guards had followed suit. As the saying goes, what the superior loves, the subordinates will emulate. These guards were either low-ranking officers already skilled in arms, like Li Dachuan, or scions of noble families with ancestral military traditions, such as Shi Jing. Under such rigorous training, they far exceeded the average level of the Ming army in equestrianism and archery. Even Meng Yuan, considered a standout among the Meng clan’s youth, could not take the top spot among the guards, which spoke volumes.

Zhu Qizhen said, "In that case, Marquis of Baoding, take a few dozen of them with you as your personal retinue. Consider it a way to cultivate talent for our dynasty and let them witness the sharpness of a blade."

Meng Ying, naturally, would not refuse. "I obey your command."

Before long, Meng Ying had selected about twenty men from the Emperor’s guards. He had hoped to take Li Dachuan as well, but Zhu Qizhen chose Shi Jing instead. None of the men Meng Ying picked were sons of high-ranking dukes or marquises; at most, they were sons of counts. He knew that these men had powerful connections; if they were to die in battle, it would be difficult to answer to their families. Moreover, war was perilous, and no one could guarantee a safe return from the front lines. Shi Jing was now an imperial son-in-law; any mishap would surely cause unrest within the palace. As for Li Dachuan, he already held the rank of a thousand-man commander and was famous throughout the realm for slaying the Atai Khan. Meng Ying naturally viewed him as a rising star in the military. His choice was clear, but the Imperial decree could not be defied.

When Meng Ying left the palace, a heavy rain had already begun to fall. Once it started, it did not cease; even when it slowed to a drizzle or the skies seemed to clear, it would pour again every day. Amidst this rain, Meng Ying departed the capital, led his troops to Tongzhou, and boarded ships to head south. He would first rendezvous with the various garrisons in Nanjing, then travel by boat to Hunan, land at Changde, head west into Guizhou, and follow the mountain courier routes to Yunnan. Given the time required to integrate the troops, Meng Ying would likely not reach Yunnan until the following spring.

Zhu Qizhen assumed it was merely the rainy season and thought nothing of it. It was a leap year, with a leap second month, so the sixth month arrived later than usual—roughly corresponding to August in the solar calendar—the height of the rainy season.

On the night of the twenty-eighth day of the sixth month in the fourth year of Zhengtong, Zhu Qizhen was fast asleep in the Qianqing Palace when he suddenly felt the world shaking. At first, he thought he was dreaming. It was not until a porcelain vessel fell from his bedside and shattered with a crisp "crack" that he was startled from his stupor. He realized then that this was no dream.

As he woke, Wang Zhen rushed in, crying, "Your Majesty, the earth is moving!"

Zhu Qizhen rolled out of bed, threw on a robe, and rushed out of the inner chamber. "Get everyone into the courtyard! Wake the Empress Dowager, the Empress, Consort Hu, and my younger brother. Have them all gather outside the Qianqing Palace. No one is to remain indoors!"

Wang Zhen hesitated. "Your Majesty, take care of your health. It is pouring rain outside."

Only then did Zhu Qizhen notice the roar of the heavy rain, which seemed to accompany the earthquake, creating a dense, thundering backdrop. "You fool, are there no umbrellas?" Zhu Qizhen shoved open the doors of the Qianqing Palace. A damp, cold mist rushed in, chilling him. The air was filled with a cacophony of voices: shouts, screams, the relentless lashing of rain, and an ominous, subterranean grinding sound, as if a great beast were writhing beneath the earth. The darkness outside was total, save for the flickering lights held by his attendants.

Zhu Qizhen felt a moment of fear. Just then, a second tremor struck. He felt as if he were standing on a speeding carriage; the violence of the shaking made it impossible to stand still. The Ming palace was sturdily built, being the imperial residence, and the Qianqing Palace held firm. However, the contents within were not as fortunate. A symphony of destruction erupted as countless porcelain pieces shattered and heavy nanmu bookshelves toppled to the floor. Books, memorials, and candles fell in a heap. Suddenly, a fire flared up inside the hall.

Wang Zhen turned pale with terror, immediately leading men to extinguish the flames. He then ordered that no one be allowed to light any fires, save for the lanterns held by the attendants. The Qianqing Palace was a wooden structure; the earthquake might not bring it down, but a fire would be catastrophic. In the Ming Dynasty, fire was the greatest destroyer of palaces. Zhu Qizhen breathed a sigh of relief, thinking to himself, "This rain may not be such a bad thing after all. At least with this downpour, a major conflagration is unlikely." In this era, with fire used for lighting, earthquakes easily triggered infernos. Yet, some things he had judged too optimistically—every advantage has its shadow.

Seeing the situation, Zhu Qizhen knew he could not hesitate. The tremors came in waves; who knew what might happen next? Even with the rain, they had to stay out in the open. Zhu Qizhen didn't need to hold a fan; Wang Zhen directed several men to hold umbrellas over him. The palace servants and guards stood on the grand plaza—the largest in the Forbidden City, home only to the foundations of the three great halls. The plaza was swallowed in darkness, nearly empty. The imperial order had been issued, but it took time to execute, and in the chaos, human reaction was not always swift.

Zhu Qizhen said to Wang Zhen, "Go quickly to the Kunning Palace, bring the Empress Mother here, and fetch my younger brother and Consort Wu as well."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Wang Zhen replied.

Zhu Qizhen asked again, "Where is Jin Ying?"

Wang Zhen answered, "Your Majesty, Eunuch Jin has a private residence outside the palace; he is resting there at the moment."

Zhu Qizhen knew Wang Zhen was trying to sow discord against Jin Ying, but he could not help but feel a surge of anger.