Outnumbered? I'll conquer America with an unlimited number of suicide soldiers.

Chapter 147 The Riots in the Capital and the Arrival of Ships

Beijing.

At this moment, countless soldiers were waiting in ambush at the seven gates of the outer city.

The Eight Banners of the Beijing Garrison, the Fengtai Garrison, the Miyun Garrison Eight Banners, as well as the infantry and patrol battalions under the Nine Gates Commander, numbered over 70,000 on paper, but only about 30,000 could actually be deployed to meet the enemy.

In addition, there were the surviving cavalry units of the Khorchin, the cavalry units of the Chahar and Tumed tribes, and the Eight Banners cavalry transferred to Jilin and Heilongjiang provinces within the Great Wall to deal with the Northern Expeditionary Army.

These cavalrymen, who had been conscripted to the vicinity of the capital to deal with the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom's Northern Expeditionary Army, were also mobilized, totaling more than 6,000 cavalrymen.

A total of 36,000 troops were on high alert inside and outside the capital to guard against an attack by the rebels in Tianjin.

But something strange happened.

The Tianjin rebel army that had nearly killed Senggelinqin did not take advantage of the situation to move north, besiege the capital, or even advance an inch into Tongzhou.

They simply occupied Hexiwu firmly, and then remained there like nails, without making any further moves.

"What are these traitors trying to do?"

Inside the capital, imperial relatives, civil and military officials were all deeply worried, discussing the movements of the rebel army.

Some said they were waiting for supplies, others said they were waiting for reinforcements. The more they speculated, the more confused and fearful they became, making the atmosphere in the capital increasingly tense.

"Whatever they want to do, why are those bastards guarding the gate stopping us from going out?"

In a teahouse in the inner city, a Manchu bannerman slammed his fist on the table, causing the teacups to bounce and spill tea all over the table.

"From my great-grandfather's entry into the Qing Dynasty, my grandfather, my father—weren't they all fighting for the Qing Dynasty?"

"They've shed enough blood, why should we shed more? I've lived for thirty years and never even touched a bowstring!"

"Exactly! Exactly!"

The other Manchus in the teahouse chimed in, chattering amongst themselves.

"Our work was done long ago by our grandparents' generation!"

"We're good at carrying caged birds around, but what about rolling around in piles of dead bodies? Let the Han people do that, shall we?"

In the corner, an elderly Manchu man with white hair and beard finally couldn't hold back any longer. He slammed his teacup on the table and cursed, "Han people! Han people! How can Han people be so trustworthy!"

He stood up, his gaze sweeping over every face in the room: "The Cantonese bandits in the south, the Nian rebels in Anhui, and the traitors in Tianjin—weren't all these troubles caused by Han Chinese? You still expect Han Chinese to risk their lives for us? To defend our city for us?"

"If we Manchus don't stand up for ourselves, what will become of the Qing Dynasty? Will the legacy left by our ancestors really be squandered in our generation?!"

The teahouse fell silent for a moment, then a few dismissive sneers rang out.

A Manchu man in a sky-blue jacket leaned back in his chair, legs crossed, and slowly began to speak: "You make it sound so easy, sir. The Cantonese bandits in the south are being fought by Zeng Guofan. According to your logic that Han people are untrustworthy, the court shouldn't have used him?"

"That's right, the imperial court shouldn't have used him!"

The old Manchu official slammed his fist on the table, his voice suddenly rising: "In my opinion, Han officials should never be entrusted with important responsibilities! Even the inner city where we live should revert to the rules of the Shunzhi era, and all the Han people should be driven out!"

After the Qing dynasty entered the Central Plains, for reasons of security and governance, it implemented a system of separate governance for Manchu and civilian populations in the fifth year of the Shunzhi reign.

With the exception of a very few, such as monks in temples, the Han Chinese who originally lived in the inner city were ordered to move to the outer city, and their houses and their wealth were all taken over by the Eight Banners.

Shunzhi's plan was good, but he did not expect that the Eight Banners would become corrupt much faster than he imagined.

Manchu bannermen did not engage in production, and all their food, clothing, and daily necessities required shops. However, Manchu bannermen themselves were not allowed to engage in commerce, so within a few years, Han Chinese merchants re-entered the inner city and opened grain shops, pawnshops, and teahouses.

As time went on, some impoverished Manchu people even secretly resold their houses to Han people. By the Xianfeng era, it had become common for Manchus and Han people to live together in the inner city.

As soon as the old Manchu man voiced his idea, cheers erupted in the teahouse.

The sound reached outside the teahouse, and Han Chinese passersby, upon hearing it, quickly quickened their pace, lowered their heads, and hurried away from this place of trouble.

After all, everyone knows that even if these Manchu nobles killed a Han Chinese, at most they would be put in shackles and flogged a few times, and they wouldn't even have to pay with their lives.

The old Manchu's words spread throughout the streets and alleys of the inner city in less than a day. Some of the Manchu descendants nodded in agreement upon hearing this.

"If the enemy soldiers really invade, the first to suffer will be us Manchus."

"Among the Han Chinese living in the inner city, who knows which one is the spy?"

"Forget who the spies are, we men are right to drive all the Han people out!"

The more the story spreads, the more sinister it becomes; the more the fire burns, the stronger it grows.

That afternoon, several bannermen from the Bordered Blue Banner actually took action.

They started from Dongsi Archway and headed west along Chaoyangmen Street, attacking any Han Chinese they saw and smashing any shops owned by Han Chinese.

By evening, the riot had spread from Dongsi Archway to Gulou Street, Di'anmenwai, and Xisi Archway. Bannermen from the Blue Banner, Plain White Banner, and Bordered Yellow Banner all joined in, and the riot grew bigger and bigger like a snowball.

The Han Chinese people on the street scattered and fled, heading towards the outer city. Shops that hadn't yet been vandalized by the Manchus also closed down, and the owners left this place of trouble with their families.

Soon, the news reached the Forbidden City.

Inside the Hall of Mental Cultivation, Emperor Xianfeng had just finished a bowl of millet porridge. Not long after the bowl was cleared away, Grand Councilor Mu Yinhe arrived.

Before he could even stand still, the high-pitched voice of a eunuch from outside the hall rang out: "Wang Maoyin, the Right Vice Minister of the Ministry of War, requests an audience!"

"Wang Maoyin? What's he doing here?"

Emperor Xianfeng looked up, somewhat puzzled.

Wang Maoyin was a Han Chinese official, a Jinshi (successful candidate in the highest imperial examination) in the twelfth year of the Daoguang Emperor's reign, and was now approaching sixty. Because he disliked many contents of the memorial he submitted last year entitled "Further Discussion on the Paper Money System," he was transferred to the Ministry of War.

He paused for a moment, then waved his hand and said, "Let him in."

"Summon Wang Maoyin, the Right Vice Minister of the Ministry of War, to an audience!"

Wang Maoyin straightened his official hat and strode into the East Warm Pavilion.

As he knelt down, he glanced up at the hall: Emperor Xianfeng was sitting on the kang (a heated brick bed), his complexion was worse than it had been during the court assembly a few days ago, his eye sockets were slightly sunken, and the kang table was piled with folded paper.

Wang Maoyin kowtowed and raised the folded document above his head with both hands: "Your Majesty, I have an urgent report to submit."

The eunuch took the folded document and presented it to Emperor Xianfeng. He unfolded the document, glanced at two lines, and then frowned.

The folded document described what had happened in the inner city that day: Manchus vandalized and drove away Han Chinese, shops were destroyed, and people fled. Every word felt like someone was pricking his eyes with needles.

After reading the folded book, he didn't say anything and handed it to Mu Yin. Mu Yin took it and read it, his expression becoming increasingly solemn.

No one spoke first, and the East Warm Pavilion was so quiet that only the occasional crackling of the charcoal in the brazier could be heard.

Wang Maoyin kowtowed again, his voice heavy with sorrow: "Your Majesty, I speak frankly at the risk of my life. The rebels have occupied Hexiwu, but the Deshengmen and Andingmen gates of the capital are still passable, and the situation is not beyond saving."

But at this time, the Manchu bannermen in the inner city were driving away Han people and looting shops without cause, treating the Han people as bandits. This was undoubtedly setting fire to the court's own backyard!

He paused, then kowtowed heavily and said, "In the twenty-second year of the Daoguang Emperor's reign, Zhenjiang was besieged by the British. However, Deputy Commander Hailing killed many innocent people under the pretext of searching for spies, which instigated an internal rebellion."

"Now, just as it was then, Your Majesty, there are already rebel troops in Hexiwu. If the unrest in the inner city continues, forcing some Han people to collude with those inside and outside the capital to side with the rebels, then the capital will truly be indefensible!"

Mu Yin's expression changed, and he said sternly, "Wang Maoyin, you're spreading alarmist rumors!"

"Lord Mu, every word I have said comes from the bottom of my heart, and not a single word is false."

Wang Maoyin raised his head, his gaze meeting Mu Yin's directly, without flinching. "At this critical juncture for the court, it is precisely when Manchus and Han Chinese are united, how can we allow discord to fester? The Zhenjiang incident was only thirteen years ago; must the lessons of thirteen years ago be repeated in the inner city now?"

Mu Yin's face turned pale and then red, his lips moved a few times, but he didn't speak again.

Emperor Xianfeng took Wang Maoyin's folding book back, placed it back on the kang table, and tapped it three times lightly with his fingers.

"Alright, I understand."

"Issue my decree to the Nine Gates Commander and the Infantry Commander's Office: impose martial law on the inner city. Anyone who gathers crowds to cause trouble, regardless of whether they are Manchu or Han, shall be arrested without exception."

He paused, then looked at Wang Maoyin, "Wang Maoyin, you will also have an additional post: you will be responsible for supervising the Manchu-Han disputes at the Nine Gates Commander's Office. If any Manchus are found to be driving away or beating Han people without cause, you will submit a memorial directly to the Emperor, without going through the Grand Council."

Wang Maoyin kowtowed: "Your subject obeys the decree."

After Wang Maoyin left the hall and the sound of his boots faded into the distance, the East Warm Pavilion fell silent again. The charcoal in the brazier burned brightly, casting flickering light on the faces of the two men.

"Go and do something for me."

Mu Yin bowed: "This servant is listening."

"The Rehe Imperial Palace shall immediately begin preparations to receive the Emperor. All Eight Banners troops stationed in Rehe shall be redeployed to various passes along the Great Wall. The post stations along the route shall be secretly replenished with horses and fodder."

Remember, everything must be kept secret; never leave any trace of the explicit instructions.

"Your servant obeys the decree."

Dagu Fort.

Tang He stood behind the crenellations of the fort and raised his monocular telescope to look out over the sea.

At the horizon where the sea meets the sky, several black dots are gradually enlarging, turning into the outlines of sails, and then into dozens of steamships with extremely deep drafts.

"It's finally here."

Tang He put down his binoculars, a slight smile playing on his lips, and strode down from behind the barricade.

On the dock, Hongwu was directing his soldiers to clear the berths, with shouts rising and falling.

Behind the dock, on the open ground along both banks of the Haihe River, makeshift camps for disaster victims stretched for miles. Tents were crammed together, and shacks were packed tightly together.

The refugees in the shacks looked up at the dozens of huge ships slowly approaching the shore, their eyes filled with shock.

The steamships’ whistles blared one after another, making the entire dock vibrate.

The ships docked one by one, the gangplank was lowered with a bang, the captain disembarked, strode up to Hongwu, and began docking.

"We have successfully delivered the grain, fulfilling our mission."

Hongwu nodded and said, "Thank you for your hard work."

Bags of grain began to be unloaded from the ship one by one. At the same time, the disaster victims who had signed up to go to the border also began to move, dragging their families and carrying their last remaining belongings, slowly moving towards the direction of boarding the ship.

But before boarding the ship, the disaster victims still had one hurdle to overcome.

Clean.

The cleaning point is located next to the Haihe River and involves two processes: first steaming, then washing.

The steaming area consisted of several low tents made of thick oilcloth and wooden frames.

The tent wasn't big; it could only squeeze in a dozen or so people at a time. In one corner of the tent, there were several red-hot river pebbles.

Once the place was crowded, the assassins inside used long-handled iron shovels to pry open the stones and then poured several ladles of water on them.

"laugh!"

White steam burst open instantly, filling the entire tent like scalding fog. The temperature was neither too high nor too low, around 60 or 70 degrees Celsius, making it stuffy and hard to breathe, but not hot enough to burn the skin.

"Don't panic, no one will die. You'll be out in about the time it takes to brew a cup of tea!"

The people inside the tent squatted on the ground, their skin reddened by the steam. The lice and fleas on their bodies died in the humid heat, their tiny black corpses rolling off the beads of sweat.

Some people couldn't resist trying to rush out, but were stopped by the guards at the door with wooden sticks.

"Do you want to bring fleas onto the boat? Just bear with it!"

After a cup of tea, the tent flap was lifted. White steam billowed out, and the person inside staggered out, his body flushed, breathing in the fresh air in large gulps.

The parasites on their bodies had all died, but the filth they had accumulated during their months of fleeing still clung to their skin.

The washing area is right next to the tent.

Several large pits, each large enough to hold dozens of people, were dug in the ground. Water from the Haihe River flowed into the pits through the excavated channels, filling them. Several bonfires were lit near the pits, filled with granite pieces the size of human heads that were glowing red-hot.

The assassins, wearing masks, stood at the edge of the pit, their voices rough and fierce: "Strip naked, then jump into the hot water and wash yourselves clean! You have to scrub off all that filth!"

Red-hot stones were thrown one by one into a corner of the first large pit, splashing water everywhere. The water in the pit was continuously heated, maintaining a warm but not scalding temperature.

People stripped naked, jumped into the warm water, and began to scrub their bodies dry of the dark grime, scratching at the mud that had accumulated on their scalps for who knows how long with their fingernails.

The water quickly became murky, covered with a layer of grayish-black debris and foam. The assassins pulled up the floodgates on both sides, and the murky water was quickly washed away by the Haihe River. New, scalding hot stones were thrown into the cold water.

"Get up and go to the second pit, wash again there!"

The water in the second pit was cool, clear water drawn directly from the river without any stones added. They climbed in and did one last rinse.

When they climbed out of the second pit, they were completely red, their skin looking like it had been boiled. A gust of cold wind gave them goosebumps.

"Those who have finished showering, come over here to get your clothes!"

A short distance ahead, the assassins beckoned to the disaster victims, waving clean clothes in their hands. "Don't wear those anymore! Throw them all away, we'll give you new clothes!"

Although reluctant to part with their old clothes, the disaster victims, under the intimidation of the patrolling assassins, obediently stepped forward to receive their new clothes after taking a bath.

Although the style was strange, these clothes were extremely thick. They were covered with a thick layer of fur, which looked very warm.

"Will they wear these wool sweaters and pants?" Tang He asked, looking over here.

"They're just clothes; you'll definitely be able to put them on by feeling around," Hongwu said. "If you really can't, our people can go over and teach you."

As he spoke, he suddenly raised an eyebrow: "That kid Li Wenzhong sent a message. He said he wants to pull off something big."