My father is Chongzhen? Then I have no choice but to rebel.

It's important to understand that the Jurchens of today are no longer the tribal alliance that only raided the borders!

Under the management of Nurhaci and his son Huang Taiji, they not only established a regime modeled after the Ming Dynasty, but now they have even learned the imperial examination system quite well, and have even been able to cultivate sons who can stand out in the Ming Dynasty's imperial examinations!
What does this mean?
This shows that they not only threaten the Ming Dynasty militarily, but also actively learn from China in terms of culture and institutions, and their ambitions are not small! Given time, if they are allowed to grow stronger, will they really consider themselves the "orthodox Chinese"?
And then they attempted to replace the Ming Dynasty?
Thinking of this terrifying possibility, Chongzhen felt a chill rise from his spine and spread throughout his body in an instant, and he couldn't help but shiver!
Then he clenched his fist tightly, his face turning extremely grim, and he forced out a chilling sentence through gritted teeth:
"It seems that the Jurchens must not be allowed to live any longer! I must completely annihilate them and eliminate any future troubles!"

Seeing that Chongzhen had finally realized the seriousness of the problem, Zhu Cilang nodded solemnly and continued:

"Father is absolutely right! The Jurchens and our Great Ming are already irreconcilable enemies, with an unsolvable blood feud, and there is absolutely no possibility of compromise and coexistence."

"For the long-term stability of Liaodong and for the stability of the Chinese nation, the Jurchen scourge must be eradicated!"

"Your subject has made up his mind. Once all the arrangements for opening up trade this year are in place and all preparations are complete, at the latest next year, we will gather a large army and launch a war of annihilation against the Jurchens! We will strive to pacify Liaodong in one fell swoop!"

When Chongzhen heard his son's resolute battle plan, he nodded in deep agreement, and a long-lost sharpness and ambition belonging to an emperor ignited in his eyes!
Yes, if he could have completely eliminated the Jurchens who had plagued several generations of Ming emperors during his reign, and destroyed the Jurchens who had repeatedly invaded the borders and even nearly threatened the capital, wouldn't Chongzhen's achievements be comparable to or even surpass the great achievements of Chengzu's northern expedition against the Mongols?
Even though this war was mainly led and commanded by Crown Prince Zhu Cilang, as emperor and father, his extraordinary achievements will surely be recorded in history!
Thinking of this, a surge of emotion welled up within him, and he said with great excitement:

"Very well! We'll do as you say! Whatever support you need from the court—money, grain, or manpower—I will fully support you!"

Seeing his father's resolute attitude, Zhu Cilang smiled and nodded, saying:
"With Father's words, your confidence has been greatly strengthened!"

Two days later, in a subtle and tense atmosphere, the imperial examination of the sixteenth year of Chongzhen (1643) was held as scheduled in the Hall of Supreme Harmony.

The entire process was solemn and dignified, with Emperor Chongzhen personally attending to ask questions, and the newly appointed scholars writing furiously at their desks.

The final result largely matched Zhu Cilang's prediction based on historical trajectory and current circumstances.

Yang Tingjian, who was originally the top scholar in this examination, still managed to win the title thanks to his solid knowledge and outstanding performance on the day. He was personally selected by Emperor Chongzhen as the top scholar of this examination.

Chang Yong'an, on the other hand, ranked thirty-sixth in the second class.

This ranking is in the upper-middle range; it's neither particularly dazzling nor at the bottom. It's a reasonable and respectable position that acknowledges his talent without overly provoking the conservative faction in the court.

Following the palace examination, the imperial court, as was customary, bestowed official titles upon these newly appointed scholars.

When the Ministry of Personnel was making arrangements, it indeed "fully considered" Chang Yong'an's place of origin and his "advantage" of being "familiar with local customs," and appointed him as the magistrate of a medium-sized county under the jurisdiction of the Liaodong Military Command.

This was a normal initial official appointment arrangement in the Ming Dynasty's practice of assigning official positions to Jinshi (successful candidates in the highest imperial examinations). In particular, it was not uncommon for Jinshi from northern regions to be sent back to their hometowns or neighboring provinces to take up their posts.

Therefore, from a procedural standpoint, this arrangement is reasonable and has not aroused speculation from the outside world about "discrimination" or "deliberate suppression".

Chang Yong'an himself was deeply grateful upon learning of the appointment and expressed his heartfelt thanks towards the palace.

After all, according to the "avoidance" system commonly practiced in the Ming Dynasty, officials usually could not serve in their native place of residence. However, Liaodong was a special frontier region, and this rule could sometimes be broken. Being able to serve as an official near his hometown was already a great blessing and convenience for him.

In conclusion, this eventful and far-reaching imperial examination of the Guiwei year, which involved numerous twists and turns, finally came to a relatively satisfactory conclusion that was barely acceptable to all parties.

The scene shifts to Liaodong, thousands of miles away.

A biting wind howled across the vast and desolate plains, whipping up the remaining snow and swirling it in the air.

It was early spring of the sixteenth year of the Chongzhen reign. The cold outside the Great Wall was still biting, but it was somewhat milder than the bitter cold of the twelfth lunar month when water would freeze instantly.

Looking out, the landscape between the white mountains and black waters is covered in a blanket of silver, with only a few stubborn withered grasses peeking out their yellowish tips in the snow, indicating that the harsh winter is about to pass.

It must be said that in the past six months, the Ming army's Liaodong defense line, centered on Jinzhou and Ningyuan, has shown a rare stability, and the daily lives of soldiers and civilians seem to have returned to some order.

However, beneath this stability lurks a turbulent undercurrent.

The various Ming armies, instead of simply holding their ground on the foundation laid by Hong Chengchou, frequently dispatched elite cavalry squads to stealthily slip out of the pass like cheetahs and launch frequent raids on outposts, patrols, and even small settlements in the Jurchen-controlled areas.

For example, burning provisions, intercepting messengers, and destroying roads.

This was because the Ming army had achieved an unprecedented victory in the decisive Battle of Songjin, which rebuilt the main force of the Jurchens and reversed the strategic passive situation that had lasted for nearly 30 years since the Battle of Sarhu.

After this battle, the Jurchens suffered heavy losses and their morale was low. Faced with the Ming army's persistent and tenacious tactics, they mostly adopted a strategy of avoiding battle and holding their ground, and dared not easily engage in large-scale conflicts with the Ming army.

In this way, the initiative on the battlefield was largely in the hands of the Ming army, allowing the Ming soldiers in Liaodong to finally vent their pent-up frustrations.

Before the Battle of Songjin, they were constantly suppressed and beaten by the Jurchen cavalry, forced to cower in their cities and passively endure the attacks. The frustration and oppression they felt are still fresh in their minds.

Now that the offensive and defensive positions have shifted, although no large-scale battles have taken place, the continuous tactical pressure has made the Ming army feel proud and emboldened.

Apart from these limited-scale military skirmishes along the border, nothing earth-shattering happened in Liaodong.

Both the Ming army and the Jurchens seemed to have entered a delicate phase of recuperation and building up their strength.

The scene shifts to Shenyang, the capital of China.

The capital city, which Nurhaci and Huang Taiji had managed for many years, appeared particularly solemn and dignified under the blanket of snow.

The towering city walls and the densely packed Manchu residences within the city all demonstrated the strength of this newly established regime.

Recently, Shenyang has been experiencing an unusual calm, even stability.

This stability stems from a fragile and delicate balance achieved at the top of the power structure.

Since the six-year-old Fulin succeeded Huang Taiji to the throne with the support of Dayuer, Dorgon, and others, the previously tense struggle for the throne has temporarily subsided.

Various factions, including the most powerful Prince Su (Haoge), Prince Rui (Dorgon), and Prince Zheng (Jirhalang), formed a pattern of joint regency.

Surprisingly, even Hauge, who was originally the most qualified to inherit the throne but ultimately failed, has behaved unusually well in the past six months and has not done anything out of line.

The country's daily affairs were discussed and handled jointly by several princes and dukes, including Hauge, Dorgon, and Jirgalang.

Empress Xiaozhuangwen, who lived deep within the palace, demonstrated superb political skills and foresight.

She knew that her son, Fulin, was young, and that his throne was hard-won and unstable. The greatest potential threat was her eldest son, Hauge, who had made outstanding contributions and originally had a stronger claim to the throne. In order to resolve this potential crisis and consolidate her son's throne, Dayuer continued to extend goodwill to Hauge and tried her best to ease the tension between them.

She continuously elevated Hauge's status and prestige in the name of Emperor Fulin.

Needless to say, they were bestowed with gold, silver, jewels, and manor servants, and were also given extremely high honors in terms of etiquette and protocol.

Hauge's current position in the court is almost equal to that of Regent Dorgon.

When he met the young emperor Fuli, he did not need to perform the full kneeling ceremony; a simple bow was sufficient.

He had the power to attend court meetings directly, and on some occasions, his rank was only slightly lower than Dorgon's.

These extraordinary treatments were clearly a carefully planned arrangement by Dayuer to appease Hauge and compensate for his psychological distress at losing the throne.

After all, by this time everyone had realized that Huang Taiji must have intended to pass the throne to Hauge before his death, but in the end, Dayuer and Dorgon stole the throne.

However, with the situation now largely settled, no one could say anything more.

But Da Yu'er knew perfectly well that Hauge couldn't possibly forget this debt.

But now the die is cast, and Fulin is the rightful emperor, recognized by most of the princes and ministers. Even if Hauge is unwilling, he is powerless to change the situation for the time being.

Now that the overall situation has been settled, Dayuer believes that instead of continuing to be suspicious and wary of Hauge, which could lead to infighting and internal instability, it would be better to take the initiative to make amends and turn hostility into friendship.

After all, Fulin was still young, and before he could assume power, he would need to rely on his elder brother Hauge, who had made great military achievements, to assist him in fighting against the powerful Ming Dynasty.

After all, it's always better for brothers to be on good terms than to turn against each other and give outsiders an opportunity to take advantage.

Prince Regent Dorgon was initially somewhat reluctant to accept Dayuer's appeasement strategy.

There was already competition and conflict between him and Hauge, so he naturally did not want Hauge's power and status to expand too much and threaten his regency.

However, after Dayuer's patient persuasion and weighing the pros and cons, Dorgon ultimately chose to go with the flow and acquiesce to the status quo.

Because he wasn't stupid; he knew that the biggest common enemy at present was the Ming Dynasty inside the Great Wall.

If, at this juncture, the Qing Dynasty were to descend into chaos due to internal power struggles, it would undoubtedly be self-destructive, with unimaginable consequences.

Maintaining a superficial unity and acting in unison against external threats is the rational choice that aligns with everyone's interests.

However, things in this world often don't go as planned.

Beneath the seemingly calm surface of this lake, a dangerous undercurrent is quietly surging deep within the city of Shenyang, threatening to shatter this fragile balance.

That night, Shenyang was shrouded in the chill of early spring and the heavy darkness of night.

Inside Prince Su's residence, the lights were on, yet a sense of oppression permeated the air.

In the study, Hauge sat alone in a grand chair covered with tiger skin, with several dishes of snacks and a pot of strong liquor on the mahogany table in front of him.

He had drunk quite a bit; his face was flushed and his eyes were somewhat glazed, but he showed no signs of the joy of being drunk. Instead, a deep sense of melancholy lingered between his brows.

Although in the past six months, from the palace's Dayuer and the young Emperor Fulin to the court's Dorgon and others, he, Prince Su, has received a great deal of respect, with all the honors he deserves, and even far exceeding the norm.

But to Haug, all of this seemed like charity, a form of compensation and consolation for losing the throne. Instead of bringing him honor, it felt more like a silent humiliation.

It should be noted that Hauge was the grandson of Nurhaci, the founding emperor of the Ming Dynasty, and the eldest son of Huang Taiji, the founding emperor of the Ming Dynasty. He followed his father in battle from a young age, made great achievements, and enjoyed high prestige in the army and among the imperial clan.

When his father, Huang Taiji, passed away, he was the most powerful heir to the throne, based on his achievements, seniority, and age.

That throne in the Golden Palace should have belonged to him!

But now, he can only attend court every day as a prince, bowing to his six-year-old nephew Fulin, who knows nothing, and watching his small figure sit on the throne that should belong to him.

Every court assembly was an ordeal for Hauge, a deep-seated pain that felt like being gnawed by a venomous snake.

He never wanted to be just a prince with a high position and great power; he longed to rule the world and wield power like his father! That supreme sense of power and accomplishment was incomparable to the honor of any prince.

"Why? Why?"

Haug muttered to himself, then gulped down another mouthful of spicy liquor. The scalding liquid burned from his throat all the way to his stomach, but it couldn't extinguish the coldness and resentment in his heart.

He knew that from the moment he was forced to acknowledge Fulin's ascension to the throne under pressure, he had completely lost his chance to ascend to the throne.

The legal system of the Qing Dynasty was already established; Fulin was the emperor, while Haoge was destined to be nothing more than a subject.

This realization was like a poisonous thorn, deeply embedded in his heart, and the longer it went on, the more excruciating the pain became.

The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became, and the effects of the alcohol began to rise in waves.

Finally, Haug couldn't hold on any longer and slumped onto the table, his heavy eyelids closing as he fell into a deep sleep, with only his heavy breathing echoing in the quiet study.

However, just as Hauge was drowning his sorrows in alcohol and falling into a deep sleep, a conspiracy against him was quietly unfolding under the cover of night in Shenyang.

A group of about twenty men in black, like ghosts, stealthily made their way into the shadows of the alleyways surrounding the Prince Su's mansion under the cover of night.

These people were all agile and quick, clearly well-trained.

Even more striking were the two men among them, each carrying a heavy burlap sack on their shoulders, the sacks tightly bound shut with ropes, their contents unknown. (End of Chapter)