Chapter Sixteen: The Commander’s Intent Lies with Wu Mingji

On the upper floor of the An Ding Gate tower, east of the northern inner city wall of Beijing, key officials of the Ming dynasty had gathered to discuss strategies for defending against the invading Qing cavalry. Present at the deliberation were Governor Lu Xiangsheng, Minister Yang Sichang, Military Supervisor Gao Qiqian, two deputy ministers from the Ministry of War, a nobleman of the court—Prince Consort Zhu Chuncheng, twelfth-generation Duke of Chengguo and governor of the three major garrisons in the capital—as well as the trusted Grand Eunuch Cao Huachun, who held multiple authoritative positions including director of the Imperial Household Department, overseer of the Eastern Depot, and chief of the palace eunuchs commanding the capital’s military forces. Several generals commanding the capital garrison were also in attendance.

Minister Yang Sichang was known for his tactfulness, always showing deference to the emperor’s eunuchs, particularly the powerful palace attendants like Wang Dehua and Cao Huachun. He willingly took a subordinate seat, allowing these intimate confidants of the emperor to occupy the place of honor.

Governor Lu Xiangsheng, however, regarded these eunuchs with disdain. He firmly believed that as an official of the court, he should not fraternize with palace eunuchs or curry favor with them, as it would undermine the dignity of a scholar-official. His resolute and uncompromising nature meant he never engaged in sycophancy. Thus, today he merely offered a slight courtesy before promptly seating himself at the head of the table, alongside Minister Yang Sichang.

Military Supervisor Gao Qiqian, accustomed to his commanding presence, bore a haughty demeanor in front of court officials. Seeing this scene stirred displeasure within him, though he was powerless to protest. Grand Eunuch Cao Huachun remained composed, nodding politely and smiling faintly, then taking his seat quietly to await the start of the discussion.

Governor Lu Xiangsheng was the first to speak at the meeting. A staunch advocate for immediate battle, his words were fervent and impassioned. Yet the others sat expressionless, exchanging silent glances, showing no enthusiasm for his resolute stance.

Frustrated by their indifference, Lu sternly demanded, “The Eastern barbarians have already reached our city gates, ravaging our capital’s surrounding lands. Yet you gentlemen remain hesitant. Shall we stand idly by while the invaders rampage unchecked among our people as if they belonged to no one’s realm?”

The assembly was struck by Lu’s unwavering righteousness. Even Minister Yang Sichang and Supervisor Gao did not display anger; instead, they urged Lu to temper his urgency. The defense of the capital was a matter of great consequence, and the strategies to repel the invaders required careful, comprehensive deliberation.

The meeting soon reached an impasse. Lu Xiangsheng insisted on a scorched-earth policy, recruiting militia, and conducting night raids on the enemy camps. Yet Minister Yang and Supervisor Gao refrained from outright opposition, merely emphasizing caution without offering positive proposals. Time slipped away in their drawn-out debate.

Grand Eunuch Cao, resentful of Gao Qiqian’s rapid rise in the past two to three years and now his position as supreme military supervisor, subtly hinted at his own ambitions by calmly remarking, “After all, Governor Lu’s argument is well-founded.”

The meeting dragged on until late into the night, yielding no resolution. To Emperor Chongzhen, as long as the loyalist troops from across the realm could firmly hold Beijing’s walls, all would be well. The fate of the common folk in the surrounding provinces was no longer within his grasp.

The question of whether to engage in a decisive battle near the capital was complex. On the one hand, it was advantageous to gather the finest soldiers and commanders of Ming, backed by the imperial aura and public support of the capital. With proper planning, and offering rewards of gold, silver, and official rank to boost morale, a battle was possible. If the invaders were sufficiently threatened, they would hesitate to penetrate deeper into the heartland and might ultimately retreat in failure.

Yet no one could guarantee a successful outcome. Defeat would carry grave consequences, and the loss of the emperor’s remaining forces would mean ruin and disgrace.

Except for Lu Xiangsheng, who advocated for battle, others remained ambiguous, offering no constructive suggestions. Minister Yang Sichang sought peace, while Supervisor Gao Qiqian coveted control over the military. Thus, this critical matter could not be settled in a single session.

Lu emphasized the spirit of the loyalist troops gathered at Changping, but Yang and Gao worried about the overall low morale of the capital garrison and the generals’ fear of the enemy. Recruiting local militia, as Lu proposed, would require official landowners and wealthy families in the capital to contribute silver to fund the effort—an idea that faced fierce opposition. Without funds, the militia could not be raised, and untrained volunteers could not withstand a cavalry assault.

As the meeting wore on into the night without progress, Lu’s frustration deepened. The distant thunder of cannon fire from the eastern suburbs shook him, increasing his restlessness. He longed to return immediately to the troops at Changping and begin preparations, rather than waste time here.

Frowning deeply, Lu rose and walked to the doorway. Drawing aside the curtain, he gazed eastward toward the raging fires near Dongzhimen. Turning back, he bowed respectfully to the assembly and said, “Tonight, the battle rages on the outskirts beyond Dongzhimen, yet here upon the city wall we debate endlessly. I am deeply pained by this. Please forgive me. I have military duties to attend to and matters to handle at Changping. Let us postpone further discussion for another day.”

Supervisor Gao eagerly welcomed the conclusion, saying, “Yes, yes, let us continue another day.”

With Lu and Gao’s agreement, no one pressed to continue. The officials left An Ding Gate, exchanged polite farewells, and departed with their escorts.

Lu Xiangsheng, burning with indignation, had spent the entire afternoon and evening at An Ding Gate with no concrete plan forged. Mounting his swift steed, Wumingji, he spurred it forward, galloping away without offering further courtesy or a backward glance.

Minister Yang Sichang shook his head at the scene, exchanged a meaningful look with Gao Qiqian, then invited Gao and Grand Eunuch Cao Huachun to mount and depart first.

Cao, saying little, simply bowed slightly to Yang before mounting his horse and leaving with his attendants.

Supervisor Gao, however, lingered, watching Lu’s retreating figure with admiration. Repeatedly, he exclaimed, “What a fine horse! Truly a rare steed!”