The Qing Dynasty is about to end

Chapter 910 Hong Tiangui: I just want to be the Emperor of America!

In January 1883, Denver was shrouded in a somber atmosphere.

The gilded dome of the True Covenant Cathedral was covered in snow, and colorful prayer flags fluttered in the biting wind. Inside, Amur, dressed in a red lama robe, turned a gilded prayer wheel, his chanting low and drawn-out, as if summoning the souls of the dead. In the square outside the cathedral, tens of thousands of veterans of the "Black, Red, and Yellow Legion" stood in formation, dressed in old gray uniforms from the Civil War era, with black armbands, their faces solemn. Most of these veterans were over fifty, their temples gray, but their eyes were still sharp as knives—they had once been Zhao Si's elite soldiers, and now they could only bid farewell to his coffin.

Hong Tiangui stood at the very front of the coffin, carrying a corner of the massive nanmu coffin on his shoulder, his military boots crunching through the snow. To his left was Hong Daquan, the archbishop of the True Covenant Church in North America, and to his right was Luo Dagang, the de facto ruler of Tianwang City and former commander of the Taiping Army's North American Legion. Behind them followed Han Yulin (Chief of Staff of the Western United Army), Brigham Young Jr. (son of Brigham Young, of the Mormon Church), and Black Zengke (the black leader of the "Black, Red, and Yellow" Legion). The six men carried Zhao Si's coffin slowly out of the church. The coffin was draped with the "Black, Red, and Yellow" tricolor flag of the Western United Army, its surface rustling as the snowflakes fell.

"salute--!"

A roar ripped through the deathly silence. Below the church steps, Luo Xinhua and Luo Xinzhong, along with Luo Zhongtian, Daidoji Yumi, and other Taiping Heavenly Kingdom officers, raised their hands in salute, their black armbands fluttering in the cold wind.

Zhao Si's three sons followed closely behind the coffin: the eldest son, Zhao Chun, pursed his lips, his gaze complex; the legitimate son, Zhao Zai, had a sinister look in his eyes, as if he were plotting something; the mixed-race youngest son, Zhao Bai, had tears frozen on his cheeks, his expression dazed. Su Shun, Yuan Bao, De Lin, and other old ministers, dressed in mourning clothes, their hunched figures blurred into gray shadows in the snow.

The hearse was a gilded platform pulled by eight black horses, with the coffin securely placed on it. Hong Tiangui personally placed a gilded command sword in the style of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom on the coffin—a symbol of Zhao Si's life of military service. Amur the Buddha rang his bell to clear the way, prayer wheels spun rapidly, and leaders of the American West Alliance, including Hong Tiangui, Hong Daquan, Luo Dagang, Han Yulin, Brigham Young Jr., and Black Zengke, walked slowly alongside the hearse. On both sides of the long street, active-duty soldiers of various races stood at attention: Black infantrymen held their rifles with heads bowed, Indian cavalrymen pointed their sabers to the ground, and Asian artillerymen stood tall like pine trees. Snowflakes pelted the gun barrels and medals, only the crunching of boots on the snow drowning out the soft patter of the falling snow.

Hong Tiangui's gaze swept over everything, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

The "Black, Red, and Yellow Legion" is the backbone of the American West. But they are surnamed Zhao, not Hong! Although Hong Tiangui is the Commander-in-Chief of the American West Allied Forces, his real background is nothing more than the California militia's army.
“Zhao Si is dead, but the ‘Black, Red and Yellow Legion’ cannot be thrown into chaos.” He whispered to Hong Daquan beside him in Hakka, “Someone has to take his place.”

Hong Daquan glanced at him but didn't reply.

In the snow and fog, Luo Xinhua, who had served in the Western United States Navy for several years and had a fairly good relationship with Hong Tiangui, scanned the faces of every Western United States leader—Hong Tiangui's eagerness, Hong Daquan's hesitation, Luo Dagang's unwavering resolve despite his age, Young Brigham Young's submissiveness, and Han Yulin's indifference. He knew the thoughts of these state leaders: the Western United States was a loose alliance, with twelve states plus Tianwang City (which was actually a state) each possessing their own local power. Among these thirteen forces, the leaders were undoubtedly California and Colorado—California had gold, grain, and Chinese militia, while Colorado had gold, grain, and the Black, Red, and Yellow Legions. Whoever could simultaneously control the Chinese militia in California and the Black, Red, and Yellow Legions in Colorado would be the king of Western America!
As the hearse headed toward the "Black, Red, and Yellow Veterans Cemetery," Luo Xinzhong lowered his salute and whispered to his elder brother, Luo Xinhua, "Six people carried the coffin, representing seven factions (including the chanting monk Amur). Is Commander-in-Chief Hong trying to use funerals to rally support?"

Luo Xinhua stared at Hong Tiangui's straight back: "He's probably thinking about Napoleon's crown."

Luo Zhongtian tugged at his sleeve urgently: "Watch your words! The young Heavenly King has never said he wanted to be emperor..."

Luo Xinzhong scoffed, "With Zhao Si around, he can't take down the 'Black, Red, and Yellow Legion.' Without this elite force, how can he become emperor? Who will bestow the imperial robe upon him?" He suddenly lowered his voice, "I bet you all that this commander-in-chief will be able to take down the 'Black, Red, and Yellow Legion' in less than a month."

The wind and snow suddenly raged, burying the unfinished words.

During the secret meeting after the funeral, the pine wood in the fireplace crackled and sparks flew onto the sheepskin map that Hong Tiangui had spread out. He pointed to the location of West Dakota with a pointer: "Scouts report that the 7th and 9th Armies of the United States East Coast are assembling at the border."

"Two more armies have arrived?" Hei Zengke narrowed his eyes. This seasoned general, who had fought for many years, immediately sensed an opportunity.

"Adding the US Eastern Army already on the northern front, there are probably five corps now." Hong Tiangui paused. "It seems they're planning a major operation on the northern front. This is a good opportunity for us to cripple them."

Luo Dagang suddenly interjected, "Does the Young Heavenly King intend to secretly transfer the 'Black, Red, and Yellow' Legion to West Datuk City?"

"As expected, we couldn't hide it from you, Lord Marquis," Hong Tiangui laughed. "As far as I know, they are preparing for a spring offensive. We can secretly transfer our troops there, let them attack first, and then use the 'Black, Red, and Yellow Legion' to wage mobile warfare and wipe out 100,000 to 200,000 of them!"

Hei Zengke patted his chest: "Commander-in-Chief, leave it to me!"

He was the commander of the "Black, Red, and Yellow Legion," and naturally, he was in charge when the legion was about to send troops.
But Hong Tiangui turned to Hei Zengke: "I need you to stay in Denver and re-arm the retired veterans."

Hei Zengke frowned: "Those old guys are all forty-five."

"That's why I need you to train them personally," Hong Tiangui explained. "Besides, the governorship of Colorado is currently vacant, so why don't you take it?"

Colorado's former governor was Zhao Si's old buddy, O'Hara. After Zhao Si's death, O'Hara took his seat as a coalition legislator, leaving the governorship vacant—a coveted position! Because now that Zhao Si was gone! With him around, the governorship of Colorado was merely a figurehead; without him, the governorship was truly real. Especially since Zeng Ke was Black, and Colorado is a predominantly Black state. His governorship was a perfect example of using Black people to control Black people—a very convenient arrangement!
"Six months." Hong Tiangui's voice suddenly softened. "As long as you hold Denver for six months, you will be the most powerful person east of the Rocky Mountains."

In the dead of night, in a secret room, Hong Tiangui used a specially made decoding notebook to decipher a telegram from Chicago. When the words "Three hundred steam tanks are being transported to Nebraska" appeared, a cold smile crept onto his lips. This intelligence, which should have been top secret, was contributed by the intelligence network established by Zhao Si.

"What's your decision?" Hong Tiangui asked without turning his head. Zhao Zai, the Colorado State Speaker, clutching a military commander's appointment certificate in the shadows, replied, "Young Heavenly King, of course I'll follow you. No need to think about it! My late father often said that you are the Napoleon of our Western American Alliance!"

Hong Tiangui chuckled, "I will do a better job than Napoleon. Napoleon failed to seize the throne, but I will become the Emperor of the entire United States!" "Long live the Emperor!" Zhao Zai suddenly stood up and knelt down before Hong Tiangui with a thud, "Your subject Zhao Zai is willing to follow my lord to the death, unify the Great America, and establish a holy dynasty!"

Hong Tiangui laughed loudly, "If you can really achieve your wish, Zhao Qing will be my founding hero, and you will definitely be given an iron hat!"

"Thank you for your great kindness, Your Majesty!" Zhao Zai kowtowed to Hong Tiangui without saying a word—his father, Zhao Si, would never have done such a thing.

But he wasn't Zhao Si; he didn't have the ability to lead the "Black, Red, and Yellow Legion" to victory. He had to cling to Hong Tiangui's coattails.

As Zhao Zai left the secret chamber, Hong Tiangui retrieved a replica of Napoleon's coronation laurel wreath from a hidden compartment. Inscribed on the inside of the wreath was a line of small German characters that translated to: "To the Emperor of America—Your loyal Bismarck!"

On January 20, 1883, in the Denver Military Conference Hall, pine wood burned brightly in the fireplace, its light illuminating the huge military map hanging on the wall. Hong Tiangui stood at the end of the long table, his hands resting on the surface, his gaze sweeping over each of the generals present—Hei Zengke, Luo Dagang, Han Yulin, Young Bachmann, Zhao Zai, and the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom representatives Luo Xinhua and Luo Xinzhong.

"Gentlemen," Hong Tiangui's voice was deep and firm, "the United States Eastern Federation's troops are gathering in East Dakota. Their objective is clear—to break through the 'Zhao Si Line,' Montana, and West Dakota!"

He slammed his hand on the map and pointed to the location of West Dakota: "Intelligence indicates that Sherman's 7th and 9th Corps have arrived at the border, and they have even brought in three hundred 152mm cannons!"

There was an uproar in the conference room.

"Three hundred 152mm cannons?!" Hei Zengke suddenly stood up, his face changing drastically. "Commander-in-Chief, if the intelligence is true, our northern front is going to collapse!"

“No way.” Hong Tiangui sneered. “Therefore, I have decided to personally lead the main force of the ‘Black, Red and Yellow Legion’ northward to lie in ambush in West Dakota and wage a war of annihilation!”

Luo Dagang narrowed his eyes: "Young Heavenly King, are you really going to... lead the troops personally?"

“Indeed.” Hong Tiangui’s eyes shone brightly. “The ‘Black, Red and Yellow Legion’ is the most elite force in the American West Alliance, but its command must be unified! General Zhao Si has passed away, and the legion needs a commander who can lead them to victory!”

He paused, then looked around at everyone: "And I, Hong Tiangui, as the Commander-in-Chief of the US-West Allied Forces, have an inescapable responsibility!"

There was a brief silence in the conference room.

Luo Xinhua frowned slightly and whispered to Luo Xinzhong, "He wants to completely control the 'Black, Red and Yellow Legion'."

Luo Xinzhong sneered: "Not only that, he also wants to use this battle to establish his authority and pave the way for becoming emperor."

At this moment, Zhao Zai suddenly stood up and knelt on one knee: "Commander-in-Chief is wise! This humble general is willing to follow the Commander-in-Chief and fight to the death!"

Hong Tiangui nodded in satisfaction, then looked at Hei Zengke: "General Zengke, you will stay in Denver and be responsible for training new recruits. Make sure that the spies in the Eastern United States believe that the main force of the 'Black, Red and Yellow Legion' is still in Denver!"

Hei Zengke was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded: "Yes, sir."

Hong Tiangui's lips curled up slightly. He knew that Hei Zengke had been swayed by his promise as the "Governor of Colorado" and would no longer oppose his plan.

"Gentlemen," Hong Tiangui raised his voice, "if we win this battle, the United States will not dare to look westward for ten years!"

Luo Dagang frowned, but ultimately said nothing more.

After the meeting ended, Hong Tiangui stood alone by the window, gazing at the swirling snow outside.

"The Emperor of America..." he murmured to himself.

In this battle, he not only wants to win, but he wants to win spectacularly!

(End of this chapter)