Chapter Three: The Fallen Eunuch

Ming Banner Chu Yu 3318 words 2026-03-19 01:48:51

All around, tens of thousands of fleeing soldiers were rushing southward in a blind panic, while behind them, several thousand Oirat cavalrymen thundered in pursuit. At this rate, no one would make it back alive to Datong—every last one would die here. From his experience with terrorist attacks in later times, Lu Qing knew that when danger was close at hand, following a panicked crowd would never lead to anything good. So, he decisively forced his way out of the desperate mob, dropped to the ground, and played dead for a while. Only after most of the pursuing Oirat cavalry had swept south after the fleeing Ming soldiers did he calm his nerves, scanning his surroundings and considering how to escape under the enemy's nose and preserve his life.

As he fretted, his eyes caught sight of a figure in a red robe standing less than two hundred meters ahead, staring blankly as if oblivious to the chaos. If not for the heaps of corpses around him and the Oirat cavalry’s urgency in pursuing the fleeing Ming soldiers, such a conspicuous person would surely have been discovered already. Lu Qing cursed silently, thinking that the man in red must have grown tired of living. If you won’t run for your life, at least find somewhere to hide! Standing there like a fool—was that not like carrying a lantern into an outhouse, simply courting death?

But mid-curse, he froze. The memories of his body’s original owner jolted him—he remembered who that red-robed figure was! On the battlefield, only one person among the entire forty-thousand-strong army would wear such a robe: the eunuch overseer of Datong, Guo Jing. There was no second.

Guo the eunuch was not dead? Lu Qing’s mind blanked for a moment, then a wild idea flashed through him: if he could rescue the overseer eunuch of Datong from this chaos, would that not tie him to the Imperial Court?

After all, these days, Director Wang Zhen of the Directorate of Ceremonies was the emperor’s favorite. According to what his superior, Commandant Bai, had said, Guo Jing was Wang Zhen’s trusted man—one of his favorites, in fact, or he would never have been appointed to such an important and lucrative post as Datong’s overseer. In other words, if Lu Qing could save Wang Zhen’s man, he’d be indirectly forging a connection with the most powerful figure at court.

If anyone could change the disastrous outcome at Tumu Fortress, Lu Qing believed it was Wang Zhen and no one else. Since Wang Zhen had orchestrated this calamity, who better to undo it? And Guo Jing was the key to making Wang Zhen act—the very path to the heavens for Lu Qing himself!

Excitement surged in Lu Qing’s heart. Truly, after searching high and low, the greatest opportunity had landed in his lap without any effort. Heaven must be watching over him—this eunuch Guo was a gift from above!

Just as he was swept up in this excitement, he suddenly noticed that Guo Jing was picking up a saber from the ground and holding it to his own throat. Lu Qing’s heart leapt; without pausing to think, he dashed forward. He had finally found someone who could open the road to power—how could he let him die here?

With this swift charge, he managed to save Guo Jing from suicide. After a harrowing escape, leading the eunuch into the reed marshes, his grand plan had barely begun when Guo Jing declared he could go no further. Judging by his demeanor, he seemed to have lost his will to live again, just as before, and Lu Qing’s anxiety grew.

But there was nothing to be done—Guo Jing was so old his legs were half in the grave. The way he panted, another step might well have ended him. If his charge died, what good would the road to power or changing fate do? With this in mind, Lu Qing crouched beside him, supporting him and saying, “If you can’t walk, let me carry you on my back, sir.”

“You’d carry me?” Guo Jing was deeply moved by this. His regard for the young man grew, and he was tempted by the offer. But after glancing at Lu Qing, he shook his head. “No, no. I’m just an old bag of bones, I can’t implicate you as well. You’re a good lad—getting me this far and out of Tartar hands is favor enough. I won’t let you risk yourself for me. You look about done in yourself; if you try to carry me, neither of us will make it out alive. While the Tartars haven’t noticed us here, you should save yourself.”

“If you won’t go, how can I leave you behind?”

Lu Qing was surprised by Guo Jing’s reluctance to implicate him; it was unlike the selfish, self-serving image of eunuchs in his memory. He thought for a moment: they were deep in the marshes, cloaked by night and reeds, and the Oirat cavalry could not possibly spot them. Since Guo Jing couldn’t go on, why not rest here for the night, regain their strength, and move on in the morning? The only real problem was how to deal with the bloodthirsty mosquitoes.

Surrounded by reeds, he searched his mind for a solution, and suddenly inspiration struck. He bent down and began scooping mud from the pond, smearing it over every inch of exposed skin, including his face. Guo Jing, puzzled at first, soon realized this was a clever way to ward off mosquitoes. Lu Qing quickly coated Guo Jing as well, and faced with the swarming insects, the eunuch didn’t mind his dignity at all, letting Lu Qing cover him in mud until he looked like a clay figure.

Dirty as it was, the mud served well enough; though mosquitoes still buzzed about, none landed to bite, though the noise was relentless. Safe from bites and with the danger no longer immediate, Guo Jing’s mood lifted. Even sitting with half his backside in the marsh, the dampness didn’t bother him at all.

“You’re a clever lad, and a good one too. Pity we didn’t meet sooner—if we had, I’d have taken you under my wing.”

Guo Jing spoke with heartfelt emotion. If he’d met such a fine young man earlier, he’d surely have helped him rise. As Datong’s overseer eunuch, he could promote a personal guard officer with a single word. Lu Qing only smiled, thinking to himself that if he’d met the old man earlier, the eunuch probably wouldn’t have spared someone as lowly as him a second glance.

“By the way, you saved my life, but I don’t know your name.”

Lu Qing replied, “My name is Lu Qing, sir.”

“Lu Qing?” Guo Jing repeated, frowning and searching his memory, but soon gave up. He’d never heard the name or seen the face. As the powerful overseer of Datong, clad in a marquis’s robe, ranked above the generals, an illustrious figure among eunuchs—even the Shanxi governor and Datong’s commander-in-chief deferred to him. How could he be connected to an ordinary guard captain? Even their own commanders would only pay him a moment’s attention, if that.

“Your commander, Chen, is known to me. Once we’re back, I’ll see to it that he takes good care of you.”

Guo Jing was sincere; should he make it back, he would certainly reward this young officer who had saved his life. A direct promotion to captain or centurion was difficult, but a post as a squad leader or acting centurion was easily arranged. Commander Chen would not, and dare not, refuse him this favor.

But Lu Qing was taken aback, asking, “You intend to return to Datong, sir?”

“The defeat at Yanghe means the Tartars will attack Datong. As the overseer eunuch, now that I’ve survived, where else would I go but back?”

Lu Qing realized his reaction was too strong, and quickly bowed his head. After a moment’s hesitation, he ventured, “Sir, I heard that with the Oirat incursion, His Majesty is leading the army in person?”

At the mention of the emperor, Guo Jing’s expression turned solemn. “Indeed. The Tartars invaded, His Majesty was enraged, and decided to lead the campaign himself. He set out one day after we left for Yanghe, as I heard a few days ago. It was Director Wang Zhen who insisted upon it.” Then, looking somewhat proud and envious, he added, “For us eunuchs, this is a rare moment of glory since the days of the Sanbao Eunuch’s campaigns. Director Wang will go down in history for sure.”

Yes, he will go down in history, Lu Qing thought, but not quite in the way you imagine. Knowing Wang Zhen’s reputation in the annals—a byword for disaster and treachery—Lu Qing could not help but wonder what the old tutor would think if he knew he’d be remembered as the greatest calamity-causing eunuch of the Ming. He’d likely cough up blood in fury.

Outwardly, Lu Qing kept his composure but hesitated. “If His Majesty is leading the army, the Tartars won’t dare face him and will surely be crushed. But since the imperial army set out only a day after us, the Emperor and Director Wang can’t know yet that we were defeated at Yanghe. What if the Tartars attack His Majesty before word reaches him?”

Guo Jing was unconcerned. “Once news of the defeat reaches Datong, a dispatch will be sent at top speed to the emperor. With the army prepared, how could the Tartars possibly launch a surprise attack? Besides, even if they dared, what of it? With Yang Hong holding Xuanfu, could the Tartars easily invade the interior? Would they not fear Yang Hong cutting off their retreat and trapping them?”

Yang Hong, the commander of Xuanfu, had inherited his father’s rank in the first year of Yongle and risen through the ranks to a top command, leading over ten thousand cavalry and fifty thousand infantry—more formidable than Datong’s border troops. Since taking command in Xuanfu in the second year of Zhengtong, he hadn’t exactly made the Mongols flee at his name, but they certainly respected him, calling him “Prince Yang.” Both the Oirat khan Toghtoa Bukha and the grand chancellor Esen had written to him and sent him horses—testament to his standing.

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