Volume One: The Young Dragon Opens Its Eyes Chapter 128: Patrolling the City (Part 4)

Chapter 128: Patrolling the City (Part IV)

However, even if Zhu Qizhen were to issue an order now to blast a gap through the city walls, which were several yards thick, it would be no easy feat. Deciding against descending from the ramparts, he led his large retinue of guards along the top of the wall.

At this time, Beijing lacked an outer city. The Imperial City sat at its heart. Inside the Imperial City, the drainage systems were the most advanced, and there were the Three Seas; thus, Zhu Qizhen felt little cause for concern there. The real areas of worry were the corners and edges of the surrounding city walls.

Despite the torrential rain, soldiers remained on duty atop the Beijing city walls. While Zhu Qizhen knew that the scene might not have been so solemn had he not arrived with such fanfare, he could still see that the Ming soldiers were in high spirits. The duty of guarding Beijing was assigned to the Metropolitan Guards—the twenty-seven garrisons most trusted by the Imperial household. Aside from the Embroidered Uniform Guard and the Tongzhou Guard, which protected Tongzhou, the rest were the garrison troops of Beijing. These forces were the original backbone that had followed the Taizong Emperor in his uprising. During Taizong’s reign, they were organized into twenty-two personal guards; the Xuanzong Emperor later organized his own trusted troops into four guards, which, combined with the Embroidered Uniform Guard, formed the twenty-seven guards. They were considered one of the core military powers controlled by the Imperial family.

Zhu Qizhen watched the sentries on the walls. Clad in mandarin duck-patterned combat jackets and wearing straw rain capes and hats, they stood in the heavy rain like statues. Their formation was strictly disciplined, appearing as straight as a line. Many people believe that ancient military formations were ineffective, unaware that since the dawn of ancient warfare, formations have been the soul of infantry—especially after the Ming military began widespread use of firearms, which demanded even stricter adherence to formation. This can be seen in historical records: whether it was Mu Ying’s "three-stage fire" tactic or Zhu Di’s use of firearms to engage Oirat heavy cavalry during the Battle of Kherlen, none of it would have been possible without rigorous formations. Even late Ming records describe the Manchus failing to break the formations of Liu Ting during the Battle of Sarhu, forced to resort to deception instead.

Zhu Qizhen was already aware that the overall martial strength of the Ming military had begun to decline. However, this decline had yet to manifest within the Metropolitan Army. Under the Emperor’s very eyes, few dared to act recklessly. What Zhu Qizhen saw now were first-rate Ming elites. They might have been inferior to the founding-era veterans or those who survived the hundred battles of the Jingnan Campaign, but looking ahead at the next two hundred years of the Ming Dynasty, few, if any, units would compare to this Metropolitan Army.

Zhu Qizhen scanned the area. He noticed that while the soldiers held many cold weapons, they also possessed many firelocks. Yet, to his eyes, these firelocks resembled nothing more than iron pipes with crude wooden stocks attached. The design of these stocks was highly impractical and incapable of absorbing the recoil of the weapons. They were as primitive as could be.

Zhu Qizhen took note of this, though he knew it was not the time to speak of it. He then turned his gaze from the ramparts toward the city. It seemed as if the rain, which had followed the earthquake, was an endless torrent from a breached sky. Every street had instantly transformed into a river. Most of the common people were not sheltering indoors; many were busy with emergency repairs on their homes. After all, while the Forbidden City had emerged unscathed from the earthquake, the homes of ordinary people had not. They were out in the rain, reinforcing structures and laying tiles, fearful of collapse or leaks. Many were using water scoops to bail out their courtyards or rooms. The streets, having become rivers, flowed toward the various city gates, many of which could no longer be closed due to the sheer volume of water.

Watching this, Zhu Qizhen felt a pang of sorrow. Yu Qian, however, was not constantly at his side, as he had witnessed the same conditions. While Zhu Qizhen felt anxious, he was unsure where to begin. Yu Qian was different; he had numerous yamen runners from Shuntian Prefecture with him. He moved incessantly, issuing orders on how to handle various situations: if a house was unsafe, the residents were to be temporarily relocated to temples; all drainage ditches were to be inspected and cleared by crews working in the rain, and so on.

However, despite having the authority to manage the water, there were things beyond Yu Qian’s reach. He approached Zhu Qizhen and said, "Your Majesty, I have only a few hundred yamen runners at my disposal. Even with the assistance of the Five Military Commissions and the Embroidered Uniform Guard, it is not enough for a situation of this scale."

"Do you need to mobilize the Metropolitan Garrison?" Zhu Qizhen asked.

"Yes," Yu Qian replied.

Zhu Qizhen commanded, "Issue an order to the Duke of Cheng to take charge, and dispatch the various units from their camps to assist in clearing the capital's waterways."

Yu Qian immediately replied, "On behalf of the people of the capital, I thank Your Majesty. I shall head to the camp at once."

Zhu Qizhen understood: the Metropolitan Garrison was full of arrogant and headstrong officers. Yu Qian’s status might not be enough to suppress them; a mere imperial decree might not ensure their obedience. Yu Qian had to go personally.

"I have but one word of advice," Yu Qian added. "Your Majesty carries the weight of the world; you must prioritize your own well-being. You have seen the state of the city—it is time to return."

Zhu Qizhen understood that even if he stayed to patrol, what help could he provide? With a large force guarding him, he might even be a hindrance. "I understand," Zhu Qizhen said. "But, Master Yu, I have been raised deep within the palace and do not know the suffering of the people. Are the reports of flooding from across the land truly like this?" To Zhu Qizhen, the state of Beijing was already dire. Many districts were uninhabitable, and temples throughout the capital were overflowing with refugees.

Yu Qian was silent for a moment before saying, "Your Majesty, the flooding in Beijing is nothing compared to the disasters of the Yellow River. Here, it is merely poor drainage and internal waterlogging. Even if we did nothing, it would recede in three or five sunny days. But in Kaifeng, the city has been besieged by floodwaters countless times. The people are swallowed by the torrents; it seems as if there is not an inch of dry land in the world. Compared to that, Beijing is but a small shadow. The annual reports of flooding are always far worse than this."

Zhu Qizhen was stunned. "Master Yu, go."

Yu Qian bowed and retreated. Zhu Qizhen stood on the city wall, looking at the streets of Beijing that had turned into rivers, speechless. The Empress Dowager had always said the people were in deep water and scorching fire; now, he saw that it was literally so. A single flood, by his estimation, would drown at least a thousand people. Yet to Yu Qian, this was a common occurrence. Every year, reports of disasters poured in from the north or the south. It was always happening. Zhu Qizhen had grown accustomed to it. The Ming territory was vast; it was normal for some places to suffer from floods or droughts. But he had never delved into what lay behind those ordinary, bureaucratic words in the memorials. They represented countless human lives.

Suddenly, Zhu Qizhen began to doubt his own plans for expansion. With so many of his people struggling on the edge of death every year, was it right to pursue a great war against the Oirats, disregarding the lives of the commoners, even if there was little profit to be gained from defeating them? Was this truly appropriate?

However, he immediately countered his own doubt. A war between two nations was not something he could simply choose to ignore. Had it not been for the death of Toghon, it would have been a matter of two or three years regardless. And the scourge of war was a far more terrifying existence than natural disaster. Zhu Qizhen felt the weight of a thousand catties descend upon his shoulders. Before, the Empress Dowager had borne this burden, and he had felt nothing. Now that it rested on him, he felt it was crushing.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps. A yamen runner ran up in a panic. Seeing that Yu Qian was not beside the Emperor, he turned to leave. Zhu Qizhen commanded Wang Zhen, "Go and ask what has happened."

Wang Zhen complied, and after a few words, he returned to report: "Someone has built a private residence that is blocking the waterway. When the yamen runners demanded they clear it, the owner refused and assaulted the officers."