Who killed the Ming Dynasty?

Chapter 120 Chengdu Guard Households

The two walked out of the tavern, the damp bluestone path reflecting the rain and mist.

As we walked, we inevitably started talking about the past.

This Commander Chen's real name is Chen Yingzong, formerly a commander of the Chengdu Guard under the Ming Dynasty. He surrendered when the Great Western Army attacked the city and is now the garrison commander of the North Gate of Chengdu.

Song An was originally from Chengdu Prefecture, and the two had known each other since childhood.

When they arrived at Song An's residence, the oil lamp on the octagonal table flickered on and off due to the draft.

Chen Yingzong tilted his head back and gulped down half a jar of wine, then suddenly burst into tears:

"Song San, do you think this dog-skin outfit is easy to wear?"

His lips were smeared with alcohol and snot, but he didn't bother to wipe them. He just raised his hand and wiped them haphazardly with his sleeve, his eyes red as he continued speaking.

"On the night the city fell, the torches on the city walls shone brighter than the ghost lanterns of the Ghost Festival."

"Zhang Nengqi's (a general in the Great Western Army) wolf soldiers held a knife to my youngest son's neck, and the bastard's blade even cut him until he bled!"

He suddenly grabbed Song An's right hand.

"What do you think Fourth Brother can do?"

The two were not related by blood, but because Chen Yingzong was a little older and ranked fourth in his family, Song An always called him "Fourth Brother" according to the custom of his hometown.

Song An patted the back of his hand with his left hand:

"Who wouldn't be tempted to live under the knife? Fourth Brother, I understand!"

Chen Yingzong suddenly dropped the wine bowl as he withdrew his hand, shattering the porcelain and spilling wine all over the floor.

"Li, the guerrilla commander, was hanging from the flagpole when he shouted at me, 'Chen Silang, give your brother a quick death!'..."

The spiderweb on the beam suddenly trembled, and a spider quickly crawled into the shadows.

He grabbed the wine bowl again and gulped it down, the wine mixed with his tears, smearing his face.

"I swung my knife with my eyes closed, and the blade got stuck in his third rib, making a creaking sound like a mouse gnawing on a coffin lid."

He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving violently.

"Now every night at midnight, Wang Zongqi's severed hand comes to knock on the window, just like the day you caught him burning paper money at the foot of the city wall."

"I chopped off his right hand with my own hands!"

Song An's wine bowl clattered on the elmwood table.

"In this world, being alive is harder than climbing a mountain of knives in the underworld!"

Chen Yingzong suddenly staggered to his feet, swaying slightly, and barely managed to steady himself by holding onto the edge of the table.

"Even the records in the underworld can't keep track of the sins committed by those who lick blood from the blade; those bastards were sucking the marrow from the cracks in the city bricks."

His voice was hoarse, trembling with tears.

"When Zhang Xianzhong's thunderbolts exploded, I personally witnessed half of the city wall collapse, burying three hundred people who couldn't escape."

"Yesterday, when we were checking the household registrations, there were forty-seven people who had hanged themselves at the North Gate alone."

Rainwater from the eaves forms silvery threads, splashing countless pockmarks on the bluestone slabs, and puddles meander along the cracks between the bricks.

Song An stroked the wine bowl, his gaze fixed intently on the flickering flames:

"These days of dynastic change are truly filled with peril; if you're not careful, you'll lose your head."

Chen Yingzong tilted his head back and gulped down a large mouthful of wine, then slammed the glass heavily on the table with a dull thud.

"Third Brother has a sharp eye!"

"I feel a chill down my neck when I walk now, like a hanged ghost breathing."

His bloodshot eyes suddenly fixed on Song An.

"You suddenly contacted Fourth Brother not just to drink and catch up, but because you can't possibly be here just for that. What's going on?"

The rain intensified, and the raindrops pounded on the roof, making a crackling sound.

Song An smiled meaningfully, reached into his pocket and pulled something out slowly and deliberately.

"Brother, I really have something to ask Brother Chen for help with."

He held a dark bronze plaque between his fingers, and in the dim light of the oil lamp, the eight characters "Chengdu Guard Commander's Night Patrol" were raised in relief.

The tiny engravings on the edge, reading "Tianzi Qibai Sishi Er Hao," resemble a mysterious talisman.

Chen Yingzong's pupils suddenly contracted, and he gave a hoarse, dry laugh:

"Where did Sanwazi pick up the junk?"

"This night patrol plaque from the previous dynasty... was melted down and used to cast cannons on the third day after the Eighth Prince entered the city."

His eyes twitched rapidly, and his fingers unconsciously dug at the splinters on the edge of the table.

"Naturally, it was taken from my fourth brother's house."

Song An shook the bronze medal in his hand, his smile widening.

"Brother Chen still has his old habit of hiding things—the third brick in the stove."

"puff--!"

When Song An mentioned "the third brick in the stove," Chen Yingzong suddenly vomited, spraying wine onto his clothes.

The color drained from his face instantly, and his lips trembled uncontrollably.

"Fake! On the third day after the city fell, I personally watched as Secretary Wang poured the bronze plaque into the furnace."

Song An slowly straightened up, looking directly into Chen Yingzong's eyes:

"The Chengdu Guard troop mobilization tally from the sixteenth year of the Chongzhen reign of the previous dynasty. Whoever holds this item can mobilize the garrison soldiers at the North Gate."

He took out the bronze talisman again and waved it in front of Chen Yingzong.

"Is Brother Chen keeping this so he can atone for his crimes someday when the government troops return?"

The sound of a wooden clapper pierced the rain curtain in the distance.

The hoarse shout of the night patrolman, "Anyone who colludes with the former Ming dynasty will be executed along with their entire clan," choked the silence between the two like a dull knife.

"You son of a bitch! I'll chop off your thieving hands right now!"

Chen Yingzong took a step forward and reached out to snatch it.

Song An reacted quickly, stuffing the bronze medal back into his pocket and leaning back slightly to easily dodge the snatching attempt.

"I never expected that Fourth Brother Chen was such a 'loyal and patriotic' man!"

"You son of a bitch, you don't know anything!"

Chen Yingzong suddenly sprang to his feet, his body trembling slightly.

"In this world... there's war and chaos, and life is unpredictable. You always have to have a way out..."

As soon as he finished speaking, Song An suddenly moved closer, their noses almost touching, his breath, reeking of alcohol, spraying onto Chen Yingzong's face.

He lowered his voice and said:

"On the third day of the ninth month, at the third quarter of the hour of Yin, there is a half-quarter of an hour of rest during the changing of the guard at the North Gate."

"Brother Chen, please open the city gates and let a batch of goods in."

The scurrying sounds of rats scurrying away on the roof beams suddenly stopped, and the rain intensified.

Chen Yingzong's bloodshot eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as he jabbed his finger hard into Song An's chest.

"You son of a bitch! You want the heads of my entire family of twelve hung on the North Gate Arrow Tower as lanterns?!"

Song An's gaze was like a knife, piercing inch by inch into Chen Yingzong's taut skin:

"On the night Chengdu fell, when you opened the city gates for the Eighth Prince, Brother Chen, weren't you afraid to use the heads of your entire family as lanterns?"

"What my brother asks for today is but a fraction of what my fourth brother did back then."

Chen Yingzong suddenly tilted his head back and let out a shrill laugh like an owl:

"This piece of broken copper? What proof can it prove? My name, Chen Si, isn't even engraved on it."

“Pah!”

Song An slammed the wine bowl heavily onto the Eight Immortals table.

He slowly untied the oiled paper pouch at his waist and took out a letter.

The seal characters "Seal of the Commander of the Chengdu Garrison" gleamed with a dark red glow under the oil lamp, stinging Chen Yingzong's eyes.

"Brother Chen has a bad memory!"

Song An suddenly leaned closer, his breath reeking of alcohol as he spoke into the other person's ear.

"But this official script on the mulberry paper must be written by your own hand, right?"

Song An's fingers touched the envelope and felt the official letter inside.

It was thick mulberry paper used exclusively by the garrison, and the ink marks of "the seventeenth year of Chongzhen" were visible through the cover.

He pulled out the letter and unfolded it. On the yellowed mulberry paper, in neat official script, were written "Your subject Chen Yingzong bows a hundred times in fear of death...".

Next to the four characters "矢尽援绝" (meaning "arrows exhausted and aid cut off"), which were blurred by sweat, there was also an ink line drawing of the defensive fortifications of the North Gate.

Chen Yingzong's gaze was fixed on the familiar handwriting, and his blood seemed to freeze instantly. This was the letter he had written to the "former dynasty" that he had never sent out, pleading for help.