PFC Chapter 3 Iron Wall Encirclement - New
Chapter 3 Iron Wall Encirclement - New
On the eighth day of the tenth month of the fifteenth year of Chongzhen's reign, at midnight.
Beijing is asleep.
It wasn't peaceful sleep, but rather a descent into a sleep tinged with fear and unease. Ever since news of the disruption of the canal transport spread, grain prices had risen three times a day, creating an inexplicable atmosphere in the city.
After the daytime clamor of people queuing up to grab food subsided, the capital city was unusually quiet at night—a quiet that held back tension, ready to erupt at any moment.
The night watchman walked across the empty street, his clapper sounding drawn out: "Dry weather—be careful with fire—"
The lingering sound echoed in the alley before being swallowed by the darkness.
He had just turned the corner at the entrance of Xijiangmi Alley when he suddenly stopped.
Deep in the alley, a shadow seemed to flicker.
The night watchman squinted his old eyes, about to take a closer look, when a gust of wind swept withered leaves onto his face.
After he wiped the dust off his face, the alley was empty again, with only the moonlight illuminating half of the blue brick wall in a pale light.
"Damn it..." he muttered, tightened his tattered cotton-padded coat, and quickened his pace to leave.
He didn't see it, but just as he turned around, a dozen pairs of eyes flashed briefly in the darkness under the eaves of the houses on both sides of the alley before going out again.
At the same time, in the backyard of the Northern Garrison Office.
Li Ruolian stood by the well and washed her face with the cold well water.
The water was icy cold, making him tense all over, and his last bit of drowsiness completely disappeared.
He straightened up and wiped his face and hands dry with a cloth, his movements meticulous.
He heard footsteps behind him, very soft, but he could tell who it was.
"My lord, everyone is here." It was Baihu Gao Wencai's voice, which was very low.
Li Ruolian didn't turn around: "Team positions?"
"They are in position as planned. Commander Sun is in the east city, Commander Zhao is in the west city, and our men are in the south city."
The musketeers of the Brave Guard Battalion, totaling eight hundred men, had infiltrated the designated streets and alleys half an hour ago, deploying in seven locations.
"Where's the message?"
"Strict. From yesterday until now, the Northern Garrison has only allowed entry and not exit, even the night soil collectors have been detained in the backyard."
On the Beijing garrison side, Admiral Zhang issued an order this morning that no officer in any battalion was allowed to leave their camp, under penalty of execution. On the Western Garden side, General Zhou Yuji's defenses are impenetrable.
Li Ruolian nodded and turned around.
More than three hundred people stood in the courtyard, all dressed in dark blue robes and wearing embroidered spring knives at their waists.
No one spoke, no one moved, and even their breathing was extremely low.
The moonlight shone on their faces, all between twenty and forty years old, with sharp eyes and upright postures.
These are all people he has secretly selected and cultivated over the years. They have impeccable family backgrounds, their lives and fortunes are tied to him alone, making them the most convenient and reliable to use.
"I've already said everything during the day," Li Ruolian said, her voice low but clear in the quiet courtyard. "If tonight's matter succeeds, you will all be His Majesty's heroes, and your futures will be assured. If you fail—"
He paused, his gaze sweeping over every face:
"The Northern Garrison Command's prison will reserve enough space for us."
No one stirred, no one changed color. Everyone just stood up straighter.
"Seven targets, seven teams. Forty men per team, led by a centurion. Upon arrival, surround the residence first, then knock on the door. If the door is opened, 'invite' the people in. If not—" Li Ruolian pulled out the blank warrant stamped with the imperial seal from his robes, unfolding it in the moonlight. The bright red seal was dazzling. "This is the proof of breaking down the door."
"Remember three things." He held up three fingers. "First, it must be alive. Second, it must be quick. Third, do not disturb the neighbors, and especially do not disturb the night patrol of the Five Cities Garrison—Admiral Zhang's men will be blocking them from the outside."
"Understood!" the three hundred-plus people responded in low voices, their voices becoming a muffled buzz.
Li Ruolian looked up at the sky.
The moon is high in the sky; it is exactly midnight.
"Set off."
At 1:15 AM, at the Zhou residence.
This house is located in Xiaoshiyongfang in Xicheng District. It has three courtyards and three entrances. The facade is not the most grand, but those in the know can tell at a glance that the threshold is made of a whole piece of ebony wood and the copper nails on the door were specially made by the Imperial Household Department.
The dignity of a prime minister lies not in ostentation, but in the details.
However, the owner of this mansion is not in the mansion now—Zhou Yanru is still "reflecting on his mistakes" in the west wing room.
The team was led by Commander Sun. He was a man in his forties with scars on his face and calluses on his hands. He was a veteran in the Northern Garrison, specializing in handling major cases.
He raised his hand, and forty Imperial Guards behind him instantly dispersed, completely surrounding the Zhou residence. From the walls and rooftops, the figures of crossbowmen from the Brave Guard Battalion could be vaguely seen, their crossbow bolts gleaming coldly in the moonlight.
Sun Baihu stepped forward and knocked on the door.
The old gatekeeper, still half-asleep, opened the door and was startled to see a large group of officials in black robes outside. "Y-you are...?"
"The Embroidered Uniform Guard is investigating a case." Commander Sun showed his warrant card, his voice calm. "By imperial decree, the Zhou residence is to be searched. No one in the residence is to move about or make any noise. Anyone who disobeys will be punished for defying the imperial decree."
The old servant's legs went weak, and he almost collapsed.
The Imperial Guards filed in.
The mansion quickly erupted in commotion. There were cries from the women, shouts from the servants, and the sound of trunks being rummaged through. But it was quickly suppressed—the Imperial Guards acted swiftly and decisively, subduing anyone they saw and sealing the doors to any rooms they encountered.
Sun Baihu went straight to the study.
Zhou Yanru's study was very large, with bookshelves on three walls, filled with ancient books. In the middle was a large rosewood desk, complete with writing brush, ink, paper, and an inkstone, as well as a half-written letter.
Sun Baihu picked up the letter and glanced at it. It was addressed to a retired official in Nanjing. The content was cryptic, but a sense of resentment and probing was evident between the lines. He folded the letter and put it in his pocket.
Then he walked to the third bookshelf on the west wall, counted to the seventh row according to the position recorded in the booklet, and pulled out a copy of "Zizhi Tongjian".
The book was empty, with a hole cut in the middle, inside which was a roll of account book wrapped in oiled paper.
Sun Baihu opened the oiled paper and flipped through a few pages. It was densely filled with records of how many salt permits were received from a certain place on a certain date, and how much silver was exchanged; and how much profit was shared with a certain merchant on a certain date.
He closed the ledger and let out a long sigh.
"Sir, three chests of gold and silver have been found in a hidden compartment in the east wing, estimated to be worth 20,000 taels," a member of the Imperial Guard reported as he entered.
"There's a hidden compartment under the concubine's bed in the west courtyard. Inside are land deeds, house deeds, and twelve salt permits from Yangzhou." Another person came in.
Commander Sun nodded: "Seal all the boxes and affix the seal of the Northern Garrison Command. Take away all male members of the household who are sixteen years of age or older. Keep the female members of the household under guard in the backyard and do not allow them to leave."
"Yes."
At the same time, at the Chen residence.
The scale here is even larger.
Although Chen Yan has been placed under house arrest, his mansion has more than fifty guards, most of whom are skilled martial artists from the martial arts world. The leader is called "Iron Hand Zhang," who was a lay disciple of Shaolin in his early years and whose iron palms can split stone tablets.
When the Imperial Guards broke down the door, Iron Hand Zhang and his men immediately blocked the front yard.
"Gentlemen," Iron Hand Zhang said, clasping his hands in a fist salute, a smile on his face but a cold look in his eyes, "my master is a Grand Secretary of the court. Even if there is any misunderstanding, it should be addressed upon his return. Breaking in in the dead of night is surely against propriety, isn't it?"
Zhao Baihu, who was leading the group, didn't say anything, but simply showed his driver's pass.
Iron Hand Zhang glanced at it, his smile unchanged: "The imperial warrant is genuine, but who knows if it's been forged? How about this, gentlemen, you go back first, and at dawn, we'll go to the palace together to ask His Majesty..."
"Take it down."
Zhao Baihu uttered two words.
The Imperial Guards behind them pounced on them instantly.
Iron Hand Zhang's eyes flashed with a fierce light. He crossed his palms and charged forward. The wind from his palms howled, and the two Imperial Guards in the lead were forced back three steps, their blood churning.
But that's where it ends.
Dozens of crossbows fired simultaneously from the walls and rooftops.
"Whoosh whoosh whoosh—"
Arrows rained down, but they weren't aimed at people; instead, they struck the blue brick ground beneath Iron Hand Zhang's feet. Arrowheads embedded themselves in the cracks between the bricks, sending sparks flying.
This is a warning.
Iron Hand Zhang's expression changed. He looked up and saw that the walls on all four sides were filled with archers, their arrowheads gleaming with a deathly cold light under the moonlight.
"Move again, and we'll shoot someone in the next round." Zhao Baihu's voice was frighteningly calm.
The guards exchanged glances, their knives slowly lowering.
Iron Hand Zhang gritted his teeth, wanting to say something more, but Commander Zhao had already walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder: "You're a trained fighter, but can you be faster than a crossbow bolt? Can you withstand the torture instruments of the Imperial Prison?"
Iron Hand Zhang's shoulders sank as he tried to break free, only to find that the other's five fingers were like iron clamps, and he couldn't break free at all.
"Take them away." Commander Zhao released his grip, turned around, and said, "Search the mansion, focusing on the study, the bedroom, and any hidden compartments that might be concealed."
The Imperial Guards rushed into the inner courtyard.
Chen Yan's mansion was even more luxurious than Zhou Yanru's, with carved beams and painted rafters, artificial hills and flowing water, like a miniature garden. But the Imperial Guards had no time to appreciate it; they were only looking for things.
In the study, Commander Zhao personally searched the room. He knocked on every floor tile, and finally found a hidden compartment under the third tile under the desk.
The hidden compartment was small, containing several account books and a stack of letters.
Zhao Baihu opened the account book, his eyes narrowing.
The records don't list gold or silver, but rather goods—ironware, medicinal herbs, salt, and tea. The trading partners are businesses such as "Fan Ji," "Wang Ji," and "Jin Ji." The time, quantity, and price are clearly recorded.
He opened another letter, addressed to "Master Fan." The contents were cryptic, but the gist was: the goods from Liaodong have been received, and the next shipment can be increased by 20%, with the price negotiable.
Fan Dongzhu... one of the eight prominent Shanxi merchants, Fan Yongdou.
Zhao, the centurion, carefully put away the account books and letters, and said to the people around him, "These things are worth more than 100,000 taels of silver."
At the second quarter of midnight, at the Wang residence.
The resistance was fiercest here.
Wang Pu's son, Wang Ke, was twenty years old. He was violent and had spent several years in Xuanfu with his father. He had practiced martial arts and had more than thirty veteran soldiers who had come from Xuanfu to serve as his personal guards.
When the Imperial Guards broke down the door, Wang Ke immediately grabbed a knife.
"Protect the young master!" the head of the guards roared.
A flash of light appeared.
Caught off guard, the two Imperial Guards at the forefront were stabbed in the shoulder and slashed in the thigh, blood gushing out instantly.
The leader of the team was a centurion surnamed Lei. Upon seeing this, his eyes turned cold, and he gave the order without hesitation:
"Release the arrows!"
On the walls and rooftops, the Yongwei Battalion crossbowmen, who had been lying in ambush, suddenly appeared, their crossbows snapping open and arrows raining down!
"Puff puff puff—"
The guards hadn't expected the enemy to use crossbows so directly, and they fell in droves instantly. The guard leader, struck by two arrows in the chest, stared wide-eyed and fell to the ground in despair.
Wang Ke's eyes reddened, and he charged at Lei Baihu with his sword, shouting, "You scoundrel! My father is the General of Xuanfu, how dare you..."
Before he could finish speaking, three crossbow bolts shot into the ground half a step in front of him, their fletching humming.
"Young Master Wang," Lei Baihu said coldly, "take another step, and the next arrow will be aimed at your knee."
Wang Ke stood frozen in place, the knife in his hand trembling.
"Put down your knife and come with us," said Commander Lei. "You may not know the details of your father's affairs. But if you resist, you will only face death."
Wang Ke gritted his teeth and finally threw the knife away with a clatter.
The Imperial Guards stepped forward and tied him up tightly.
Lei Baihu led his men into the inner courtyard. In a hidden compartment of the study, they found several account books; under the bed in the bedroom, they dragged out two chests filled with gold and silver.
The ledgers were filled with records of the amount of money deducted from military pay and the amount of military rations resold, as well as records of trade in horses and furs with Mongol tribes.
Lei Baihu turned a few pages, his eyes growing even colder.
"Wang Ke, the accountant, and the guards—all alive—are taken away. The women are to be kept under guard in the mansion; seal the gates!"
From the third quarter of the Zi hour to the beginning of the Yin hour.
Under the same night sky, the same scene unfolded almost simultaneously in four other grand mansions in Beijing.
Some went smoothly—the door opened, and the owner, pale-faced, was "invited" away.
There were setbacks—the servants resisted, but were quickly suppressed by crossbow bolts and blades.
There were also cases where the search was fruitless—one of the vice ministers hadn't returned to his residence at all the previous night, and the Imperial Guards, finding no one there, immediately launched a city-wide search. An hour later, they dragged him out of bed in a brothel in the south of the city.
The entire process lasted nearly two hours.
There was no large-scale shouting of killing, no uproar that disturbed half of the capital.
The only sounds were the friction of tightening ropes, suppressed sobs and curses, the sticky sound of paste being applied to the wooden surface of the chest to seal it with the inscription "Sealed by the Northern Garrison Command," and the occasional short, tragic clash of weapons and muffled thuds of people falling to the ground.
Like a silent plague, it spread through the capital city in the dead of night, precisely devouring seven targets.
At the second quarter of the hour of Yin (3:45 AM), at the side gate of the Imperial Prison of the Northern Garrison Command.
This is the most secret entrance to the Imperial Prison, hidden at the end of a dead-end alley. The area outside the door is always piled with junk, like an abandoned warehouse.
At this moment, the alley was tightly guarded by the soldiers of the Yongwei Battalion.
One after another, black-covered carriages, completely concealed, arrived silently and stopped at the entrance.
Those who were taken off the carriage, regardless of their previous status, were now all wearing black hoods and shackles. They were quickly escorted through the low iron gate by pairs of Imperial Guards.
Inside the door was a narrow stone staircase leading downwards. Torches were stuck in the walls, making the light dim. The air was filled with the smells of mildew, blood, and an indescribable, aged dread.
Li Ruolian stood at the end of the stone steps, watching as each target was escorted in.
Zhou Yanru's son Zhou Wen, Chen Yan's brother Chen Wen, Wang Pu's son Wang Ke, the accountant... and three other civil officials and their core family members.
The number of key figures from the seven families has increased to sixteen.
"And the other one?" Li Ruolian asked Gao Wencai, who was standing next to her.
Gao Wencai whispered, "Liu Chang, the Right Vice Minister of the Ministry of Works, stayed at his concubine's outer residence last night. Our men found nothing there. Commander Sun has led a city-wide search, and we just received news that he was caught at an inn outside Chongwen Gate and is being escorted back. It should take another quarter of an hour."
Li Ruolian nodded, her gaze falling on Wang Ke.
Although the son of the general was wearing a hood, his posture still revealed the uprightness of a military officer. However, at this moment, that uprightness was stiff, a forced act of bravado after his pride had been shattered.
"Take Wang Ke to Cell No. 7 (Category C)," Li Ruolian said calmly. "Put him in solitary confinement. Give him paper and pen. Tell him to write down everything he knows about his father's affairs in Xuanfu. If he writes it well, he may live."
"Yes."
When Wang Ke was taken away, his body swayed almost imperceptibly.
Li Ruolian stopped looking at him and turned to Chen Wen.
Chen Yan's younger brother was completely limp and had to be dragged in by two Imperial Guards. The hem of his silk robe was covered in dust from rubbing against the ground.
"Second Master Chen," Li Ruolian walked up to him and reached out to remove his hood.
Chen Wen's face was ashen, his eyes were unfocused, and his lips trembled, but he could not utter a word.
"We've found the account books of your brother's dealings with the Shanxi merchant Fan Yongdou," Li Ruolian said calmly, as if stating a fact. "Tell me, did Fan Yongdou contact your brother first, or did your brother contact Fan Yongdou first?"
Chen Wen trembled violently and finally broke down: "I'll talk! I'll tell you everything! It was Fan Yongdou who approached me first! He said he could help you with things in the court, as long as you do me a favor regarding the grain and provisions in Liaodong..."
Li Ruolian raised her hand to stop him: "Write these words down. Take them with you."
Chen Wen was dragged to another passageway, her cries echoing in the corridor before fading into the distance.
Li Ruolian stood still, listening quietly.
The torchlight cast his thin figure long and swaying slightly on the damp, cold stone wall.
Gao Wencai leaned closer and lowered his voice: "Sir, when we were arresting people, the servants of three families tried to climb over the wall to report the news, but they were all intercepted by the Yongwei Battalion. In addition, two patrol teams from the Five Cities Garrison approached, but were stopped by Admiral Zhang's men on the grounds of 'searching for Jurchen spies,' and no conflict broke out."
"Any news from Admiral Zhang?"
"Just received. Within the Beijing Garrison, two battalion commanders from the Fifth Army attempted to mobilize their own troops but were apprehended on the spot by Admiral Zhang and are now imprisoned in the Beijing Garrison dungeon. There were also disturbances in the Three Thousand Battalion, but they were suppressed."
Li Ruolian nodded, her face expressionless, but deep in her eyes, there was a faint trace of relief.
The first night was a success.
All seven core members have been apprehended. News has been largely contained, and the Brave Guard Battalion has cooperated effectively. Although there were some internal setbacks, no major chaos ensued.
But this is only the beginning.
The real challenge lies in getting these people to talk and uncovering the underlying connections.
He looked up at the sliver of light filtering through the crack in the iron gate above the stone steps.
It's almost bright.
At the end of the Yin hour, in the East Warm Pavilion of Qianqing Palace.
Li Ce didn't sleep.
He stood by the window, which was a crack open, letting in the coldest air before dawn in late autumn, which made his temples flutter slightly.
Wang Chengen tiptoed in, carrying a secret report he had just received.
"Your Majesty, this was handed over by Li Tongzhi."
Li Ce took it and unfolded it.
The handwriting on the paper was neat and concise: "From the first quarter of Chou hour to the second quarter of Yin hour, there was movement in all seven places. The core sixteen people of the seven families, including Zhou, Chen, and Wang, have been imprisoned. Liu Chang escaped and was captured outside Chongwen Gate. The core remains intact. During the process, the guards of the Chen family resisted and injured three of us. Several account books and secret letters were seized from the Zhou and Wang residences. The Yongwei Battalion cooperated smoothly, intercepting three servants who came to deliver the message and suppressing two internal disturbances. At present, the news has not spread widely."
After reading it, Li Ce remained silent for a moment.
"What about casualties?"
"Seven Imperial Guards were wounded, but none were killed in action. The Brave Guard Battalion suffered no casualties."
Li Ce nodded and lit the secret report over the candle flame. The paper curled up, turned to ashes, and fell into the copper basin.
"Tell Li Ruolian," he turned and looked at the brightening sky outside the window, "the interrogation can take its time. But none of those sixteen people can die before I need them."
"Yes."
"Furthermore," Li Ce paused, "have Zhang Weixian continue to seal off the nine gates, especially those leading to Xuanfu, Shanxi, and Jiangnan. For three days, I want the capital to be a no-go zone."
"This servant understands."
Wang Chengen bowed and withdrew.
Li Ce walked back to the window and opened it.
The sky had turned from inky blue to greyish-white, with a sliver of dawn appearing on the eastern horizon. The glazed tile roofs of the Forbidden City gleamed with a cool golden hue in the morning light.
In the distance, the faint sound of a rooster crowing could be heard.
A new day has begun.
The blood shed last night will soon stir up a storm in the court and among the people.
Li Ce took a deep breath of the crisp, cool air and closed his eyes.
The seventh cycle has begun, and the first net has tightened.
Next, let's see how many fish are in this net.
Outside the window, the morning light gradually brightens.
But a storm destined to stain the entire Ming Dynasty red has only just begun.