Chapter Two: Establishing the Crown Prince’s Imperial Guards

[Thanks to the readers: Rose Like the Tide, Cockroach Loves Bear. Thanks for the reward~ Today there’s an extra update for recommendation votes, and another one tonight.]

The trouble brought on by Fu Rugui and the others staying behind didn’t actually concern Zhu Cilang much; he even felt a thrill at the prospect of revealing his abilities before his companions. In truth, even Zhu Cilang himself hadn’t anticipated that his actions would stir such waves of emotion and admiration in those who witnessed his next moves.

Thus, with Zhu Cilang seizing the initiative, the atmosphere in the Hall of Rites was gradually swayed by him—little by little, he eroded resistance, seized control, and finally, with the account ledgers capturing all eyes, he unleashed a roar and struck down Chen Gaowen with his sword.

But it did not end there. Surrounded by over a thousand mutinous soldiers, Zhu Cilang triggered the lime powder hidden inside a fake summary ledger, subdued Qiao San’er, and, before the eyes of a thousand armed men, captured the chief rebel, thereby bringing the situation completely under control.

When faced with the onslaught of mutineers, Zhu Cilang chose perhaps the most difficult solution possible.

And clearly, this was not about putting on a show.

Killing Chen Gaowen forced Qiao San’er to surrender, and even to take his own life. Each step, each move, was part of Zhu Cilang’s larger scheme and ambition to win over this band of battle-hardened veterans.

At this point, Zhu Cilang made an even bolder move.

To assuage the mutineers’ anxieties and to win their trust in their panic, Zhu Cilang announced that he would stay and spend the night alongside them.

This meant placing his life entirely in their hands—at any moment, in the darkness, he could be slain by any one of the mutineers in a fit of rage.

Such a decision from Zhu Cilang was shocking to all and proved incredibly effective: it put Qiao San’er’s mind at ease, prompting him not only to take his own life and thus leave no further trouble for Zhu Cilang in absorbing the mutineers, but also completely shattered the remaining will to rebel, smoothing the path for Zhu Cilang to restore order.

As promised, Zhu Cilang then stayed the night at the Imperial Academy with the mutineers, not even choosing a decent room but sleeping with the soldiers in the corridor, his only comfort being three quilts—two laid beneath him, one as a cover—provided by the remaining students.

Zhu Cilang slept soundly through the night, as if those around him were nothing but a flock of gentle lambs.

That night, Old Seventeen remained awake, guarding Zhu Cilang with several loyal brothers until dawn.

The sincerity Zhu Cilang displayed first moved Old Seventeen. The death of Qiao Bosheng dissolved the last grudge in his heart; past grievances were finally settled. Now, all he wished for was a better future for his brothers. For men like them, seasoned in blood and battle, the best fortune was to serve a worthy master.

Having led a mutiny, returning to the barracks meant facing endless humiliation.

Old Seventeen weighed his options and found that there was no better choice than pledging himself to Zhu Cilang. Clearly, Zhu Cilang’s conduct and spirit matched Qiao San’er’s, if not surpassing them.

Therefore, when Zhu Cilang chose to stay with the mutineers through the night, Old Seventeen’s heart was won; he would not let Zhu Cilang come to the slightest harm among the ranks.

As for these thoughts of Old Seventeen, Zhu Cilang seemed not to consider them at all. Surrounded by mutineers, he slept deeply, as if truly among harmless sheep.

Old Seventeen bore no resentment for this; on the contrary, his respect for Zhu Cilang grew, convinced that such a man was destined for greatness.

When the other mutineers glanced over in the dim night, their minds were awash with conflicting thoughts, making for an oppressively tense night.

It was, plainly, a gamble with life itself as the stake.

At dawn, as the first light broke, the outcome was clear.

Zhu Cilang had won.

Thus, when Zhu Cilang asked Old Seventeen if he would follow him south as household guards, Old Seventeen agreed without hesitation.

What he never expected was that as captain of the guards under Zhu Cilang, he would receive a generous monthly salary of ten taels of silver, not counting the other provisions and benefits due to the guards—such as silk undergarments, standard-issue chainmail, and finely crafted sabers and longbows, all made at great expense.

When Old Seventeen learned that even the ordinary guards could eat their fill of meat every day as long as they trained hard, he cheered aloud.

From then on, Old Seventeen’s loyalty deepened, and he brought several of the fiercest wounded veterans from the Right Vanguard to sign life contracts with Zhu Cilang, becoming his personal guard.

Almost as if by living example, with Old Seventeen leading the way, nearly a hundred of these elite veterans, who had marched from the battlefields of Hubei, were gradually drawn into Zhu Cilang’s retinue.

Even those unwilling to leave the capital but willing to fight to the death when called numbered several dozen.

For Zhu Cilang, this was perhaps the greatest gain from the Ministry of Revenue’s restructuring.

Naturally, before Emperor Chongzhen, Zhu Cilang only spoke of the Right Vanguard’s hardships, their officers’ harsh treatment and extortion, Qiao San’er’s suicide, and the remaining mutineers’ peaceful surrender, perhaps mentioning in passing his slaying of Chen Gaowen and capturing of Qiao Bosheng.

Even with such a brief account, Emperor Chongzhen, seeing the seemingly transformed Zhu Cilang, felt both proud and uneasy, a hundred emotions surging within him, leaving him momentarily speechless.

Seeing this, Zhu Cilang spoke softly again. “If the mutinous Right Vanguard soldiers remain in the capital, they’ll forever be seen as rebels, and life will only get harder. Yet weren’t these soldiers, in Huguang, the very sons who fought and died for you, Father? Now, seeing their plight, I could not bear it; that’s why I stayed at the Imperial Academy overnight, and why I decided to bring them under my wing.”

On hearing this, Chongzhen nodded slowly. “Such loyal and righteous men should not be let down. In the times of the Great Ancestor and Great Founder, there were also Imperial Guards for the Crown Prince and the Princes. Establishing such a guard now is not unreasonable. I am aware of this—go ahead and organize it. But should you wish to expand its structure, you’ll have to plan it yourself. Officially, the Ministry of War will arrange it in secret, but as for making it public, that decision is yours. However… Cilang, it seems you intended to leave the capital from the very start…”

Naturally, a Crown Prince cannot keep his guards stationed in the Forbidden City. Clearly, Zhu Cilang had never planned to remain at court.

Hearing these last words, Zhu Cilang was about to offer some justification, but Chongzhen waved his hand and continued, “In this Ministry reorganization, you, Cilang, are the chief contributor. But your departure from the palace is too unconventional, so it’s not suitable to announce your merits in an imperial edict. Still, how could I neglect my qilin son? Since you wish to establish a guard, you may select a detachment from the Capital Garrison to reinforce your force as Crown Prince’s guards, as compensation for your service to the Ministry. Wang Cheng’en, as commander of the Divine Machine Battalion and director of the Armory, will make selecting elite troops and obtaining uniforms and weapons much easier.”