Perpetual Brightness: Surviving Southern Ming

[Faeelin]

Nanjing, February, 1660

Zheng Chenggong paced nervously in the hall, and looked at the Dutch clock he’d had installed. “Wasn’t the Emperor supposed to arrive twenty minutes ago?” he asked a courtier.

The courtier shrugged. “You know how these things go,” he said. “Who can rush an emperor?” The courtier frowned, and looked at the painting on the ceiling, to avoid looking at Zheng Chenggong. “It’s hardly an auspicious beginning for his first appearance in his court in Nanjing.”

Zheng began to say something else, but then the Emperor of Eternal Experience walked into the room. He wore the traditional yellow robes of the Emperor, but they were plain, instead of being embroidered with dragons. He seemed serene, and walked silently towards the dragon throne, where he sat down without a word.

Only Zheng noticed the wince on the Emperor’s face as he walked, and the brief smile as he finally sat down. He began to bow before the Emperor, but the Emperor interrupted him.

“Wait,” said the Emperor of Eternal Experiences. “It is not proper for a family member to bow before me.” Zheng blinked, and a feeling of pride washed over him, but he remained silent. The Emperor looked around the throne room, surveying the adornments in the Imperial palace. He gestured at the golden dragons next to his throne. “The state must be rich, to afford all this.” He cast his gaze on one of the officials in the court. “How many taels are in the Imperial treasury?” When one of the officials gave him a number, he swallowed.

“So little?” the Emperor asked. He looked around the court. “What can be done, to maximize the revenues of the Empire?”

Zheng coughed. “Your Majesty, I have a suggestion. You should open up the sea lanes, stimulate trade in each port, and collect revenues from that.” [1]

The Emperor of Eternal Experiences looked at Zheng speculatively. “Has that ever been tried before?” he asked.

Zheng nodded. “Profits from maritime commerce are very great. If properly managed, they can amount to millions of tael. Is this not better than taxing the people?”

The Emperor of Eternal Experiences raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like a quote.”


Zheng bowed. “It is, your majesty. The Emperoro Gao Zong of the Song said it.” Zheng took out his tobacco pipe, and lit it. “Do you know where tobacco is from, your Majesty?”

The Emperor nodded. “I see your point, Imperial Namekeeper.” He thought for a moment, and said, “What do you wish to see?”

”Legalize trade with foreign lands, but tax it. Furthermore, let merchants from foreign lands trade wherever they please in China, but tax it. As it stands, commerce is hindered, and the state fails to profit from it. If you encourage merchants to trade within the laws, then the state and the people will profit. Open all of our ports to trade with the Dutch and other foreigners.”

The Emperor nodded. “Anything else?”

Zheng nodded. “In the long term, I’d like to see the state encourage commerce directly, by mapping coastal areas, encouraging the adoption of Western navigation techniques and tools, and so forth.” He shrugged. “I don’t think the state can afford that, right now.”

Zheng looked at another note he’d made. “And if we’ve lost the North, then we will have to find other sources of certain goods, like timber. We’ll need an official navy too.” He turned to another page of notes, and said, “Right now, my fleet is holding the Yangtze, but we’ll need something else as well.”

“What do you suggest?” asked the Emperor.

The Emperor’s gaze became thoughtful for a moment, and Zheng found himself respecting the Son of Heaven. ““We’ve lost the northern plains, and our armies are still weaker than the Manchu. We will have to substitute our seas and rivers for the Great Wall, and our watchtowers for warships.” He nodded. “You have my approval, Imperial Namekeeper.”

The Emperor thought for a moment, and snapped his fingers. “In fact,” declared the emperor, “we should send a proclamation throughout our realm. All of our officials and supporters should consider how to improve the finances of the state, and we will consider all worthy ideas.”

Zheng bowed. As he walked out, the Emperor looked around the room, and said to a courtier, “Sell the dragons. We have more need of weapons for our army than ornaments for my palace.”


[1] Zheng’s father had suggested a similar policy to one of the previous Southern Ming Emperors, the Emperor of Intense Warring.

 

[The Sandman]

Just wondering, will this TL have any effects upon Japan? After all, if the Chinese are going to be a seafaring nation again, Japan is a natural trading partner.

Maybe have Japan be influenced by the Protestants as a bastion against a (nominally) Catholic Qing China? Or, for weirder effects, have the Europeans start using a reopened Japan as a dumping ground for their unwanted Jewish population. Japanese-style Judaism could be a fascinating oddity.

 

[MerryPrankster]

What's going to happen to Wu Sangui?

 

[Faeelin]

Just wondering, will this TL have any effects upon Japan? After all, if the Chinese are going to be a seafaring nation again, Japan is a natural trading partner.

Japan is at this point closed to China, although there's a profitable trade going through the Ryukus, which both China and Japan claim is their vassal.

It will be opened though, in the early 18th century.

Maybe have Japan be influenced by the Protestants as a bastion against a (nominally) Catholic Qing China?

Perhaps, although the Ming might do just as well.

Look for the EIC to make an appearance soon.

Merry: Right now, he's a warlord ruling southwest China. He might set himself up as a new dynasty, or he might join one of the two sides.

I haven't decided yet.

 

[Faeelin]

Nanjing, March 1660

Zheng Chenggong, conqueror of southern China, looked at the note in his hand as he sat by the pool. It was written in elegant calligraphy, on silk. And it mocked him.

“Your father,” he read, “was punished for his son’s disloyalty to the Dynasty of Clarity. [31] As punishment for a man whose son has slowly cut China to pieces, he was killed with the Slow Slicing method.”

Zheng had trouble reading at that point, because the words became blurred. As he blinked, he continued reading. “He died three days later after his punishment began, praying for death. Do you regret, son of Zheng Zhilong, what your disloyalty has led to?”

Zheng continued to read the note. “You studied the teachings of Confucius. Why don’t you know that you should obey your elders? Your main concern should be their health, but because of you, they are dead and buried in unmarked graves.”

“How will you make offerings to them, if their ashes are scattered to the winds? How will you worship them, if you murdered them?”

“May the Lord of Heaven have mercy upon you, for you showed none to your father.” Below that statement, in delicate calligraphy, was the Emperor of Unbroken Rule’s signature.

Zheng tossed the note aside, and began to weep. He was so upset that he didn’t notice the man behind him, until he put his hand on Zheng’s shoulder. “There has been too much weeping in China, these past few years.”

Zheng didn’t bother to turn to look at the man. “I should hate him, you know. He betrayed China and the Dynasty of Brightness to the barbarians that raped his wife and killed my mother.” He swallowed. “I still hate him, I think.” He looked down at the ground. “Why do I miss him?”

The man sat down on the bench next to Zheng, and carefully avoided looking at him. “He did it for you. He thought the Ming were doomed, and that the best thing for his sons was to welcome the Manchu.” The man shook his head. “That was how much he loved you, you know. He would ally with the Manchus even after they killed his wife, because he thought it would save you.”

Zheng nodded, digesting what the man had sad. He nodded, and, kept looking at the pond. “Thank you,” he said at last.

The man nodded. “Your father, I know, must have been proud of all that you have done.” The man stood up, and began to walk off, but Zheng stopped him.

“You are,” he said carefully, “different than what I expected.”

The man shrugged. “Not really,” he said. “I am not a warrior, and I know that I’ve had officials who are smarter than me.” He looked down at the pale scars on his hands, and smiled. “ When it was first decided that I was to be the Son of Heaven, my mother protested, saying that I was too gentle for the job.”

“In a way,” mused the Emperor of Eternal Experiences, “she was right. If they had chosen some one else to be the emperor, perhaps we wouldn’t have done so poorly in war.” He shrugged. “But if the Son of Heaven doesn’t know when to be compassionate, then he doesn’t deserve his throne.”

“Your father,” said the Emperor, “died a painful death, and his body was burned. He will not be buried with your family. But he died knowing,” declared the Emperor as he walked out of the garden, “that his son’s name, and word of his loyalty to the Dynasty of Brightness, will last for a thousand autumns.”

And then the Emperor left, to leave China’s greatest general to cry.

Nanjing, March 1662

Zheng sat politely and refrained from laughing at the Dutchman as servants cleared away the plates. The Dutchman hadn’t eaten anything that night, since he didn’t know how to use chopsticks and had refused to eat with his hands. Frederick Coyett, the Dutch governor of Taiwan, Zheng was realizing, was a proud, foolish man.

As such, he was very useful.

Zheng smiled at the thought, and turned to his interpreter. “He Bin, ask the Foreign Devil why they have been harassing our tax collectors in Taiwan, and our subjects there.”

He Bin nodded, and translated for the Dutch governor. The man stroked his piss-colored mustache and, after a moment, answered. He Bin’s grin widened as he translated the answer for Zheng. “The barbarian says that the previous emperor agreed to let the Dutch trade on the island, tax free. He also claims that the man the Son of Heaven placed there to collect taxes was a corrupt and foolish man, who possessed the Fujianese vice.”

Zheng gave the Dutchman an incredulous look, and absently began peeling an orange. “He claims that you molested their boys?”

He Bin shrugged. “I don’t think he realizes that I was the man you sent to Taiwan to collect taxes. To them, we all look alike.”

Zheng grunted. “Did he say anything about why they have treated our merchants there so harshly?”

He Bin shrugged. “He claims that that’s what any ruler would do, in a similar situation.”[4]

Zheng ate a slice of orange, and smiled. “Very well,” he said. “Tell the Dutch that we are going to establish an administration in Taiwan, and that the island is part of China.” He pursed his lips. “But tell him that, in return, we are opening all of our ports and domains to them.” The Dutchman listened to He Bin, his face blank.

Zheng nodded. “Remind him that the Jesuits have made inroads amongst the Manchu, and have been helping them craft weapons.” Zheng smiled. “Should you remind him that the Jesuits are no friends of the Dutch?”

He Bin smiled. “Why not?” he asked. “Coyett,” he said, using the Dutchman’s name, “is a fool, but even he can see the obvious. But if we point it out to him, he will know that we know of their rivalry too.”

Zheng watched the Dutchman scowl, and smirked. “Tell him that we would like to purchase the services of some of their weapon smiths, to teach us to make cannon as they do.” [5]

The Dutchman’s face reddened, and Zheng smiled. “I wonder,” he said to He Bin, “if there are other kingdoms in the Western Ocean, besides the Dutch and Spanish, who want to trade with us.” He paused, and snapped his fingers. “There’s an island of traders, like the Ryukus. They used to trade in Japan.” Zheng turned to He Bin. “What were they called again?”

He Bin shrugged. “I forget,” he said. He stopped talking, and listened to the Dutchman’s response. “He says he finds merit in the proposal, and believes his superiors will too.”

Zheng nodded. “Good,” he said. “Have the servants escort him back to his rooms.” There was a look of surprise on the Dutchman’s face, but He Bin said something in their guttural language, and he calmed down and departed.

When the Dutchman left, Zheng turned to He Bin, and thought. “You know,” he said, “we really don’t know that much about the lands of the Western Ocean.” He poured himself a new cup of tea, and thought for a moment. “We will have to do something about that.”

[1] Zheng’s father had suggested a similar policy to one of the previous Southern Ming Emperors, the Emperor of Intense Warring.

[2] The Southern Song held out for over a century against the Jurchen, but they fell before the Mongols under Kublai Khan.

[3] Qing

[4] He didn’t say this, actually. Frederick Coyett’s defense of the Dutch actions actually revolved around the fact that in times of disorder, a merchant must safeguard his property if no on else will, and emphatically denied that the Dutch had governing powers.

[5] The Jesuits were making cannons in Beijing before it fell to the Qing, and kept on making them for the Qing. This is, understandably, distressing for the Ming in Nanjing.

 

[MerryPrankster]

Oh boy. The Qing are sooooo going to pay for that.

I wonder what the Qing Emperor's Jesuit advisors have to say about the Death by 1,000 Cuts? Surely they would object to punishing the father for the sins of the son, on Biblical grounds.

 

[G.Bone]

Great installment! Blackmail is such a dirty word.....

Is there going to be relations with SE Asia as well for the Ming?

 

[Faeelin]

I wonder what the Qing Emperor's Jesuit advisors have to say about the Death by 1,000 Cuts? Surely they would object to punishing the father for the sins of the son, on Biblical grounds.

As in OTL, monarchs have a strange tendency to ignore the advice of priests when they feel that it's necessary.

Adam certainly disapproved; especially if his father promised to become a Christian if he lived, as he did in OTL.

And yes, the Ming will be involved in southeast Asia.

 

[Strategos' Risk]

Fujianese vice? Sounds like the Greek love.

 

[Faeelin]

Fujianese vice? Sounds like the Greek love.

Bingo.

While homosexual acts were generally tolerated in China (to the point where, by the late Ming, it was considered trendy to have a boy in your household for sex), it was always treated as a Fujianese vice, and certainly not something that a proper Chinese person would have.

 

[Faeelin]

And now, we turn to the Redemption of Wu Sangui: Or why he didn't use his army to crush the Ming in the southwest.

This part opens with a brief Pre-POD... piece?

April, Beijing, 1644

The sound of thunder rumbled in the distance, although the sky was clear. The houses of the officials of the Ming were boarded up, with signs above them proclaiming their submission to the rebels. The Forbidden Palace, once filled with hundreds of of people, was deserted. The only person in sight was a woman, carefully walking across the compound.

The woman wore a simple white dress, with a scarlet scarf. Her face was unpainted, and her hair was undone. Yet even as she was, amidst the desolation of an empty palace, she was as beautiful as spring.

The rumbling fell silent as the woman made her way through the empty streets, towards the top of Coal Hill[1].

When she reached the top of the hill, the girl found an old man, sitting alone in the dirt. He ignored her for a moment, staring dully at the palace below them. The thunder began again, and the man looked up at the girl. “My ministers have failed me, and even now they scheme for places in the new regime.”

The girl nodded, but it seemed as if the man was talking to himself. Then he looked at her, and asked, “Do you know how long the Empire lasted?”

The girl blinked. She had never been taught such things. She swallowed, and felt the dryness in her mouth. “A long time, Your Majesty?”

The man smiled. “Yes, a long time.” He sighed. “And now, today, it ends.” He looked down at the dirt. “I killed my wife, today, and my daughters.”

The girl had known them, and had called them friends. She swallowed, with difficulty, and nodded. “Death,” she said at last, “was best for them.”

The Emperor of Lofty Omens smiled, and stood up. “As it is for me,” he said. He shook his head. “None of my ministers comes, and yet I find the concubine of my general here.” He looked at her, and frowned. “It is amazing how those who study righteousness rarely practice it.”

He held up his sword, and looked at it for a moment. “I would rather,” he said, “die without defacing my body.” He snorted. “The rebels will do that soon enough.”

The girl looked around, and, as she began to weep, passed her silk scarf to the emperor. He looked at it for a moment, and nodded. “Thank you.”

He tied the scarf to the tree, and wrote his title in the dirt. As he tugged the scarf to make sure it was secure, he turned to the girl. “Chen Yuanyuan,” he said quietly, “I would like you to take something from me.” He passed her a piece of paper. “Don’t read it now,” he said. “Give it to your lover.”

The girl nodded, and stepped back. She watched silently as the man climbed up the tree, and hanged himself.

It would take the rebels three days to find the body of the Emperor; and by then, much had changed.

[1] This is a hill just north of the Forbidden City

 

[Hendryk]

Beautifully written, Faeelin. I should outsource the writing of my TLs to you, you make Chinese history come alive in a way I can't

He tied the scarf to the tree, and wrote his title in the dirt. As he tugged the scarf to make sure it was secure, he turned to the girl. “Chen Yuanyuan,” he said quietly, “I would like you to take something from me.” He passed her a piece of paper. “Don’t read it now,” he said. “Give it to your lover.”

One detail that makes the Emperor come out as a human figure is the choice to address the girl by her real rather than her courtly name. In more formal circumstances, he would likely have addressed her as Wanfen (畹芬).

 

[corourke]

I'm really enjoying this timeline so far. I just wish it was moving faster! I want to know the end!

Keep it up!

 

[Faeelin]

Yunnan, December, 1659

Years had passed since the Qing had taken Beijing, and Wu Sangui had risen high in their ranks. His son was married to a Manchu; he was a noble; and now, he commanded an army that was among the finest in the world. He should have been overjoyed at his position in the world.

Unfortunately for Wu Sangui, that army was supposed to be used against the last Ming emperor, who was hiding in Burma. He paced under a roof in a courtyard in the governor’s palace, and scowled. “I should be happy,” he said. “The Son of Heaven favors me, and at long last, the last of the Ming are within my grasp.” He sighed, and lit his pipe. “Why?” he asked himself, “am I unhappy?”

“Because you know what you’re doing is wrong.” Wu Sangui turned around to see Chen Yuanyuan walk up to him. The years had been kind to her, given what she had endured, and Wu admired the way she walked, in a red silk dress.

Despite that, he scowled at what she said. “Wrong?” he demanded. “What would you have me do? The Ming are all but dead, and you know it.” He sucked on his pipe for a moment, and blew a smoke ring. “I fought the Manchu for years; I fought rebels for the Emperor. And for what?”

Wu spoke the words without emotion, and he grinned slightly. “The emperor killed himself, and his successors couldn’t even keep the Manchu north of the Yangtze. The Manchu,” he said, “treated me better than the Ming ever did.”

There was silence, save for the sound of rain as it fell. After a moment, Chen quoted a letter that some one had once given her. “I die unable to face my ancestors in the afterlife, dejected and ashamed. May the bandits dismember my corpse and slaughter my officials, but let them not despoil the imperial tombs nor harm a single one of my subjects.”[2]

Wu puffed on his pipe for a moment. “So?” he asked. “What does it matter that he repented before he died? In every way possible, the Ming failed to protect China.”

There was a flash of lightning, and Wu turned to look at Chen. “Why do I owe them anything?”

And then he looked away from Chen Yenyuan, and stared into the rain.

 

[G.Bone]

Interesting stuff....I do like the form of these installments - not quite first person but near there, a real feel of the character & such.

I couldn't quite help with th' overtones to Darth Vader's pre-hopping to the Dark Side in this bit - was this intentional?

There was silence, save for the sound of rain as it fell. After a moment, Chen quoted a letter that some one had once given her. “I die unable to face my ancestors in the afterlife, dejected and ashamed. May the bandits dismember my corpse and slaughter my officials, but let them not despoil the imperial tombs nor harm a single one of my subjects.”[2]

The annotation to this is where?

 

[Faeelin]

[2] This is the note that the emperor supposedly left with his corpse. Other accounts have him not placing it there, but I think we all know which version sounds better.

 

[G.Bone]

Sorry for being nitpicky...

This is the note that the emperor supposedly lift with his corpse.

Unless the Emporer is a zombie, how the heck can the emporer can lift the note with his corpse?

 

[Faeelin]

Unless the Emporer is a zombie, how the heck can the emporer can lift the note with his corpse?

It is a well known fact that unless properly satiated with offerings, the Chinese emperors will rise from the dead to produe calligraphy.

(By little known, I mean entirely made up, of course).

 

[G.Bone]

Ah. Methinks, upon further review, you forgot an (it) with this;

This is the note that the emperor supposedly lift (it) with his corpse.

So - is there any more stuff?

 

[MerryPrankster]

Who is the Chen woman? Is she the Manchu wife in question, or someone else?