How can one be Emperor Chongzhen without money?

Chapter 277 How could Emperor Chongzhen not like a loyal and heroic woman like Gao Guiying?

In the spring of the fifth year of the Chongzhen Emperor's reign, the winds of the northern grasslands still carried a biting chill. The main camp of the Chechen Khan, Erlinchen, was set up in a sheltered mountain valley. Outside the largest yurt in the center of the camp, the two White Banner soldiers brought by Dorgon stood solemnly, their eyes sharp and their killing intent restrained.

Inside the yurt, the charcoal fire burned brightly. Dorgon sat in the main seat, with Hauge and Fan Wencheng on his left and right, respectively, while the Chechen Khan sat beside him, looking uneasy.

When the Russian envoy Ivan Petrin made a request for trade, Dorgon did not respond directly, but instead turned his attention to Fan Wencheng.

“Mr. Fan, tell him.” Dorgon’s voice was calm, yet carried an unquestionable authority.

Fan Wencheng accepted the order and turned to the interpreter, his tone calm but resolute: "The Prince said that friendship and trade can be discussed. But the rules must be made clear first."

He paused, his gaze fixed intently on Petrin, and said, word by word, "From Lake Baikal eastward to the sea, this vast land is the foundation of my Jurchen people. All the Mongol tribes, both north and south of the Gobi Desert, respect my Great Jin Tiancong Khan as their master. This place is my 'private domain'."

As soon as the interpreter finished translating the word "forbidden territory," Petrin's expression changed. He said urgently, "Sir! The land east of Lake Baikal was won with the blood of our Cossacks! You want to take it away with just a word? This is not friendship!"

"Expansion?" Dorgon suddenly spoke, interrupting the interpreter's relay. Although he couldn't understand, Petrin's excitement said it all. He nodded slightly to Fan Wencheng.

Fan Wencheng understood immediately, his voice suddenly turning cold: "Your Highness is asking you, has your blood been shed more, or the blood of my Eight Banners elite troops and the Mongol tribes?" He stepped forward, his imposing aura overwhelming: "In the land east of the lake, there is no room for negotiation. Your people, return to where you came from. No city building, no garrisoning of troops, and absolutely no touching a single hair on the heads of the tribes here. This is the final word, do you understand?"

Petrin was speechless, his face flushed red, at this blatant declaration of force. Before he could retort, Fan Wencheng softened his tone slightly, but the conditions remained harsh: "However, west of the Ergun River, the water and grass are poor, and the area is chaotic. Our Great Jin can make an exception and allow your caravans to pass through to the Great Ming."

The subsequent negotiations were even more difficult. Regarding the tax rate, Petlin argued: "A 15% tax? That would make trade unprofitable! If you insist, our country will have no choice but to impose heavy taxes on existing goods!"

"Oh?" Dorgon's lips curled into a cold smile upon hearing this. He then spoke directly to Fan Wencheng, "Tell him that the road is on my Great Jin territory. If he wants to pay the tax, he'll do it according to the rules. If he doesn't want to pay..." He paused, his gaze sweeping over the Chechen Khan beside him before finally settling on Petrin's face, "That's easy. Let the Khalkha Taijis negotiate the toll rates with their caravans themselves."

The threat in those words was obvious—if you don't pay taxes according to my rules, you can expect to be robbed by the Mongol cavalry.

When Dorgon proposed that Russia act as the agent for the sale of Later Jin specialties and demanded a 70/30 split, Petrin almost jumped up: "70%? That's impossible! We will bear the transportation and sales ourselves, which is extremely risky. At most, we can split it 50/50!"

This time, Dorgon didn't even bother to have Fan Wencheng relay the message. He simply picked up a knife, cut a piece of meat from the roasted lamb, slowly put it in his mouth, chewed it a few times, and then calmly said, "Mr. Fan, let him think about it. From the northern deserts to the Ming Dynasty, who allowed him to pass through safely? Without the permission of our Great Jin, he wouldn't be able to transport even a grain of sand. Seventy percent of the money was for a safe passage. This price is fair."

Finally, when the topic of firearms came up, Petrin firmly refused: "Firearms are the foundation of our nation, and there is absolutely no way we will sell our artisans!"

After listening to the interpreter, Dorgon finally put down his sword, leaned forward slightly, and locked his gaze on Petrin like a hawk. Through Fan Wencheng, he conveyed his ultimatum, word by word: "Today's discussion is about demarcating the border; everything else is negotiable. Without a defined border, there is no point in discussing anything else. I'll give you three days to consider. If there is no reply after three days, you may return. However, if any Russians cross the border armed at that time, don't blame my Eight Banners soldiers for treating them as enemies and facing them with swords!"

At this point in the negotiations, there was no room for negotiation. Petrin looked ashamed and had no choice but to get up and take his leave.

Before his departure, Fan Wencheng followed the plan and seemingly "kindly" reminded him: "By the way, since your envoy wishes to go to the Ming Dynasty, you can use the banner of 'Russian tribute envoy.' It is best to give the Ming emperor a nominal title, which may save you a lot of trouble."

Petlin was in a state of utter confusion and could only offer a vague thank you before leaving dejectedly.

With only his own men remaining in the tent, Hauge finally couldn't help but ask, "Fourteenth Uncle, haven't we pushed them too far? What if they really turn against us..."

"Turning their backs?" Dorgon sneered, his eyes gleaming. "Why would they turn their backs? Because of those few dilapidated villages scattered in the forest? We don't want their lives now, just a little toll from them is already a huge favor. If they want a trade route, they'll have to follow our rules."

He stood up, walked to the tent entrance, gazed at the gloomy northern sky, and slowly said, "To deal with such greedy and cowardly people, the only way is to stand firm and not yield an inch, so that they will know who the true master of this land is. If we retreat one step, they will advance ten. The line drawn today is the foundation of our borders for the next hundred years, and we cannot back down even a fraction of it." He suddenly lowered his voice, "Moreover, this land, if absolutely necessary, is also our last resort!"

While naked exchanges of interests were taking place in the yurts of northern Mongolia, a completely different scene was unfolding in Agra, India, thousands of miles away.

Inside the Mughal Empire's palace, the lights were bright and the air was filled with the aroma of incense. Ming Dynasty envoys Wang Chengen and Sun Yuanhua were holding friendly talks with the Empire's prime minister, the young prince Aurangzeb, and his teacher Mirza Ghafar.

Both parties solemnly affixed their seals to a draft treaty on trade between the Ming and Mughal dynasties, written in Persian and Chinese.

Prince Aurangzeb was extremely generous. He not only promised the Ming caravan the most favorable treatment, but also bought half of the goods brought by the delegation at a price significantly higher than the market price. Moreover, the majority of the payment was for saltpeter, which the Ming Dynasty desperately needed, with only a small portion being gold and silver.

"These saltpeter stones are intended to aid His Majesty's powerful army," Aurangzeb said with a smile through the interpreter. Even more surprisingly, he had prepared a lavish gift, specifically for Princess Sarentuya and Empress Dowager Sutai in the Ming Dynasty. The gift list was filled with jewels, fine horses, gold, exquisite textiles, and precious spices, reportedly worth hundreds of thousands of silver rupees—and that was in India; after arriving in Ming China, the value would be several times higher!
"This is just a small token of my respect for the descendants of the Golden Family," Aurangzeb said casually. He also stated that he would send his teacher, Mirza Ghafar, to personally lead a delegation back to Beijing with the Ming Dynasty envoy, so that they could "witness the splendor of the Celestial Empire."

When Wang Chengen expressed his hope to visit the Ottoman Empire as his next stop, Aurangzeb readily agreed and said he would send the "Commander of the Mongolian Navy" to personally arrange for ships to escort him.

The talks concluded in a fairly friendly atmosphere. You Shiwei, Wang Chengen, and Sun Yuanhua returned to their lodgings, all feeling relieved.

It seems this mission has been accomplished. The initial connection to the west has finally been established!
Moreover, earning silver from the Mongol Empire was really easy!

The autumn wind of the fifth year of the Chongzhen reign swept across the North China Plain, carrying the scent of soil and withered grass.

Outside Deshengmen Gate in northern Beijing, the heavy sound of horses' hooves echoed along the official road. A cavalry unit appeared in the distance, kicking up a light cloud of dust.

Two horses led the procession. On the left was Zhang Xianzhong, dressed in a qilin robe, his face beaming with barely concealed joy. On the right was a young woman in military attire, none other than Gao Guiying.

She stood ramrod straight, motionless on her horse. Over her well-fitting leather armor was a faded blue cloth battle robe, emphasizing her broad shoulders and slender waist. Her jet-black hair was tied back in a ponytail, revealing a full forehead and an oval face. Years of traversing the wilderness had tanned her skin a wheatish hue. Her eyebrows were long and dark, slanting towards her temples, carrying a hint of heroism. Her nose was straight, her lips tightly pressed together, the corners slightly downturned, giving her a stubborn air. Most striking were her eyes—large, bright, and as black as deep pools—now gazing at the city of Beijing ahead. Her eyes lacked the timidity of ordinary women, instead revealing a worldly composure and sharpness.

Her face appeared calm, but a closer look revealed a hint of reluctance beneath. Agreeing to enter the palace was a choice made after weighing the pros and cons, but the thought of being confined within the palace walls, no longer able to ride horses and shoot arrows freely, weighed heavily on her heart.

Behind her followed a thousand Hetao cavalry. The men and horses were weary from their long journey, and their armor and weapons were not particularly fine, but the sharp edge they possessed, honed through daily battles with various Mongols on the Hetao grasslands, was impossible to conceal. Most of them carried long spears, the tips gleaming coldly in the autumn sun.

As the procession drew closer, the outline of Beijing became increasingly clear.

Gao Guiying reined in her horse and slightly raised her head. Her gaze swept over the towering city walls of old Beijing, then turned to the newly constructed western city of Jingxi. The two cities were connected, stretching as far as the eye could see, like a colossal beast lying on the ground, silent yet exuding a sense of oppression.

Having grown up in northern Shaanxi and grown accustomed to vast landscapes, she had never seen such a massive city before, and a sense of respect for its inhabitants immediately arose in her heart.

Oh, that person seems to be her owner too!

She took a deep breath, her heart filled with mixed emotions. There was the bewilderment of leaving home, the anxiety about the future, the resentment of being confined to the deep palace, and a touch of anticipation for the young emperor. Since Chongzhen ascended the throne, although he acted domineeringly, he had been somewhat invincible. If judged solely by success or failure, he was undoubtedly a young hero!

Zhang Xianzhong laughed from the side, "Your Majesty, do you see this? This is Beijing! We've finally accomplished our mission! His Majesty will be so happy to see you and this elite army!"

Gao Guiying didn't speak, but simply nodded slightly, then flicked the reins to urge her warhorse forward.

"Enter the city."

A thousand cavalrymen followed closely behind her, marching with somewhat uneven steps into the imperial capital that would determine the fate of the world. The sound of hooves echoed through the city gate and carried far away.

At this very moment, on the Deshengmen city tower, Emperor Chongzhen, Zhu Youjian, put down his monocular telescope and watched the procession disappear into the city gate.

Just now, through the telescope, he had clearly seen the woman's figure and appearance below the city. Her upright posture, the heroic spirit between her brows, and her calm demeanor were all captured in his eyes.

His lips twitched slightly, and he muttered to himself:

"What a fine woman... beautiful and loyal, a rare find."

The word "loyalty" is very meaningful. Gao Guiying is the loyal soldier!
He suddenly turned his head and asked Li Guo, the imperial guard standing beside him with his hand on his sword:
"Li Guo, do you think what I said is right?"

Li Guo was taken aback for a moment, then quickly bowed and clasped his hands in greeting, replying in a loud and clear voice:

"Your Majesty's judgment is accurate; you are absolutely right!"

Emperor Chongzhen smiled. This Li Guo was the "Duke of Xingguo of the Great Ming" in history. The Loyal Camp he formed with Gao Guiying and Gao Yigong held high the banner of the Great Ming in the Kuidong Mountains until the third year of Kangxi's reign. They were all extremely loyal! How could Emperor Chongzhen not like such a loyal heroine as Gao Guiying?
(End of this chapter)