"The first army of the Shared Governance faction has already reached Tianjin."
Wu Yingxiong rushed in, breath still uneven, his urgency barely concealed as he spoke to his father.
"Father, shouldn't we make our move as well?"
Wu Sangui let out a low chuckle, the kind that carried more calculation than amusement, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were already arranging the pieces of a game that only he believed he fully understood.
"Yes," he said, almost lazily. "It is time we moved."
He paused, then continued, his tone shifting into something more deliberate.
"But we cannot be the first to arrive, because the first to stand out is the first to be struck down."
Wu Yingxiong nodded instinctively.
"And we cannot arrive too late either," Wu Sangui added, "because if we do, we will appear insignificant within the Shared Governance faction, and when the time comes to speak, our voice will carry no weight."
He leaned forward slightly, the faintest hint of a smile forming.
"We must be the second to arrive."
Wu Yingxiong blinked.
"The second?"
Wu Sangui's smile widened, revealing the full extent of his thinking.
"When we reach the outskirts of the capital, we will camp separately and watch as the others create chaos. Once they force the Emperor from the throne, we will step forward at the perfect moment and accuse them of being false, claiming they acted only for personal gain rather than the good of the nation."
His voice dropped, colder now.
"And then we kill them all."
Understanding dawned instantly.
Wu Yingxiong's expression sharpened.
"And after that… we decide everything."
Wu Sangui chuckled.
"Exactly."
Wu Yingxiong hesitated, a flicker of doubt surfacing.
"But what if they unite against us?"
Wu Sangui snorted, clearly unimpressed.
"I have lived a lifetime of brilliance, and yet I have somehow produced a son who still asks such questions. Those fools in the Shared Governance faction will never unite. Each of them harbors their own ambitions, their own schemes, and sooner or later, they will turn on one another."
He waved his hand dismissively.
"In fact, we do not even need to act immediately. We can simply wait for them to weaken each other, and then step in to clean up what remains. With fifty thousand troops under our command, what is there to fear?"
Wu Yingxiong fell silent.
He understood.
Within the Great Ming, the most elite troops were concentrated in the Guanning forces, and the fifty thousand soldiers under their control were, by any reasonable measure, among the strongest in the entire realm.
The advantage, as they saw it, was entirely theirs.
"Advance."
With a single command, Wu Sangui set his forces in motion, the Liaodong troops under his command, along with the Shanhai Pass forces led by Gao Di, forming a massive army that began its march toward the capital.
---
At this point, Beizhili had descended into chaos so complete that even those accustomed to instability found themselves overwhelmed.
Wealthy merchants were fleeing the capital in droves, dragging their families and possessions along with them, their only thought being to escape before the storm reached its peak.
And yet, the moment they left the city, a new problem emerged.
Where could they go?
To the east, the route had been sealed by the forces of Prince Tang, who had landed at Tianjin and was advancing toward the capital.
To the west, Chen Qianhu's forces blocked the way.
To the south, the army of Prince De pressed forward.
With three directions cut off, only the north remained.
And to the north lay the steppe.
Even so, the merchants had no choice.
Clenching their teeth, they pushed onward, hoping against hope that they might slip through some unnoticed path, avoiding the armies converging from all sides.
Among them were two figures who stood out not for their strength, but for their reputation.
Qian Qianyi, a leading figure of the Jiangnan literary world, and his close associate, the Huizhou merchant Cheng Jiasui.
Cheng Jiasui had originally intended to return south after his previous visit to Liang Shixian, planning to establish a waterworks system, yet like many merchants, his instincts had led him to linger when new opportunities presented themselves.
And opportunities there had been.
Power plants.
Electric lamps.
Electric fans.
Each one a glimpse into a future that promised profit beyond imagination.
So he stayed.
And because he stayed, Qian Qianyi stayed as well.
And because they stayed, they now found themselves caught in a situation neither poetry nor commerce could easily resolve.
They had set out toward Tianjin, intending to take a ship south, only to learn halfway that Prince Tang had already landed there.
At that moment, their situation had become… awkward.
With no other options, they continued forward, hoping only to pass by the advancing army without encountering it.
Along the way, they encountered countless refugees.
The people of Beizhili, long accustomed to the devastation brought by the Jin forces, had learned a simple rule for survival.
When armies come, run.
It did not matter whether the soldiers wore the banners of the Great Ming or those of their enemies, because in the eyes of the common people, both could bring suffering.
The safest place, ironically, was the capital itself.
Cheng Jiasui sighed as he watched the fleeing crowds.
"Just when the region had finally found some peace after driving back the invaders, now the rebel armies advance on the capital, and once again the people are forced into displacement."
Qian Qianyi shook his head slowly.
"When the nation prospers, the people suffer. When it falls, the people suffer as well."
Their conversation had barely ended when chaos erupted ahead.
"Rebel army! Rebel army!"
Voices rang out in panic.
"Cavalry! Armored cavalry! They're fast, run!"
For a moment, instinct drove everyone forward, the refugees attempting to flee toward the capital, but reason quickly caught up with them.
If the enemy was cavalry, they would never outrun them.
And so, almost as one, the fleeing masses changed their course, scattering into the forests along the roadside, hiding among the trees.
Qian Qianyi's face paled.
"What do we do? Do we turn back?"
Cheng Jiasui, to his credit, remained calm.
"Look at the people. No one is running anymore. If we stay on the road, we will be caught. The only chance we have is to hide."
That logic was unassailable.
Without hesitation, they led their attendants into the forest, dozens of men slipping between the trees, crouching low, watching the road through gaps in the leaves.
They had barely concealed themselves when the army arrived.
Qian Qianyi had heard of heavy cavalry.
He had never heard of armored cavalry.
And so, when the sound came, a deep mechanical rumble unlike anything he had ever experienced, his mind struggled to comprehend what he was seeing.
From the southeastern road, several massive black iron vehicles emerged.
They were not fast, not by the standards of the future that had birthed them, yet on the uneven roads of Beizhili, they moved with a speed that no human could match on foot.
No wonder the people had chosen to hide.
Qian Qianyi stared, his breath catching in his throat.
What kind of thing was this?
The vehicles rolled closer, their imposing forms casting long shadows, until at last, they came to a stop near the forest.
Within the trees, the refugees trembled.
Parents clutched their children, covering their mouths, terrified that even the smallest sound might draw attention.
And then, something unexpected happened.
From the lead vehicle, a man climbed out.
He appeared to be in his thirties, his build unremarkable, even somewhat frail, the kind of person one might overlook in a crowd.
Yet when he raised a metal loudspeaker and spoke, his voice carried clearly through the forest.
"Do not be afraid."
"I am the former Prince Tang, Zhu Yujian."
"I now stand as a representative of the people within the Shared Governance faction."
He paused, allowing his words to settle.
"Our army is the army of the people. We will not harm you, nor will we behave like the Jin invaders or the old Ming troops, who acted without restraint."
There was something almost deliberate in the way he framed it, as though each word had been chosen not merely to reassure, but to redefine.
"Please, come out of the forest with peace of mind."
And in that moment, the battlefield that had yet to begin revealed another front entirely.
Not one of steel and blood.
But one of trust.