Chapter Fifteen: A Gift of a Precious Sword from an Old Friend

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Beijing, the residence of Governor Lu Xiangsheng. An elderly gentleman came to pay his respects and was invited by Lu Xiangsheng into the inner hall for a detailed conversation.

This visiting elder was named Yao Dongzhao, courtesy name Dunchu. Though around sixty years old, he was still robust and vigorous, with a long streak of white beard hanging over his chest. Originally a poor scholar from Julu County, he was known for his generosity, righteousness, and strong sense of integrity, earning him great respect among the local villagers.

In the autumn of the second year of the Chongzhen reign, when the Tatars first invaded the capital region, advancing as far as Chaoyang Gate outside Beijing's eastern city wall, Lu Xiangsheng was then the prefect of Daming Prefecture. He spontaneously gathered over ten thousand local militia to rush to the capital overnight to serve the court and protect the emperor.

When passing through Julu, Elder Yao led over a thousand local youths to join Lu Xiangsheng’s militia, earning Lu’s admiration and deep respect. From then on, they became acquainted.

Lu Xiangsheng had several times invited Elder Yao to take official office, but each time was politely declined, which only increased Lu’s esteem for him.

Now, with the elder’s sudden visit, Lu Xiangsheng felt both surprised and pleased. Even though urgent matters of defense against the invaders awaited him, he was willing to stay and converse with his old friend.

After seating themselves separately in the guest hall and exchanging brief pleasantries, Yao Dongzhao came straight to the point: “Honorable Master, you are soon to head to Anding Gate to discuss vital defense plans. I should not trouble you at such a moment, but the state of our dynasty has decayed to this extent. The calamity of a Southern Song fate is imminent. I must see you, Lord Lu. Before you attend the council, are you aware that the court is already preparing to secretly pay tribute and negotiate peace with the Tatars?”

“I have heard murmurs of peace talks, but the tribute payments are news to me,” Lu Xiangsheng replied, somewhat taken aback.

Yao Dongzhao pressed on without regard to Lu’s reaction: “It is said the court is willing to pay the eastern barbarians annually six hundred thousand taels of silver, and even abandon vast tracts of our Liaodong lands to seek temporary peace. Is this not repeating the tragic errors of the Song dynasty, who once paid tribute to the Liao? It is akin to bargaining with a tiger for its skin!”

Upon hearing this, Lu Xiangsheng suddenly leapt from his chair, trembling with anger, his beard shaking as he glared fiercely at Yao: “Is this true?”

“It is said to be credible. The Tatars have only refused because the intermediary, Zhou Yuanzhong, a blind street fortune-teller, was unacceptable to them. They insist on sending high-ranking officials to negotiate before they consider any agreement. If we conclude such a humiliating treaty, ceding land, paying tribute, and opening trade markets, more demands will surely follow. Honorable Master, as you shoulder the fate of the realm, you must use the council to expose these grave dangers. Make certain that the few powerful ministers and eunuchs dare not speak of tribute and peace to His Majesty again. Only then may we rally the troops for a decisive battle to crush the Tatar cavalry at the vital capital gates, so they know the Ming dynasty still stands unyielding, daring not to nibble away at our lands any further. If this can be done, the dynasty and its people will be most fortunate, and your name will be immortal!” Yao spoke with firm resolve.

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Lu Xiangsheng grasped Yao’s hands tightly, his tone resolute: “Sir, no need for more words. I have long planned this in my heart. Death holds no fear for me. As long as I am here, I will not let the Ming repeat the tragic fate of the Song!”

Yao’s expression was moved as he held Lu’s hands: “I knew you were the true pillar of our dynasty, like the legendary Yue Fei. Your words bring comfort to my heart. I shall take my leave now.”

Lu Xiangsheng hurriedly pulled him back, saying: “Master Dunchu, might I invite you to join the royal loyalist forces in Changping? Your help in military affairs would be invaluable, and I would have the honor of learning from you daily. Would you consent?”

“I am deeply grateful for your kindness, but I fear the Tatar cavalry will again thrust deep into the southern capital lands. I have decided to return to my homeland tonight, rally the local youths to defend our city and resist the invaders to protect our homes. Your great favor humbles me; I must ask for your understanding until another day.” Yao respectfully declined.

“Very well! If that is your wish, I dare not detain you,” Lu thought, knowing Yao was a poor scholar without means. He ordered his servant Gu Xian to bring ten taels of silver as a gift.

But Yao resolutely refused the money, and Lu, knowing his upright nature, did not press further.

Turning, Lu called Gu Xian and commanded him to fetch the treasured sword he always carried. With both hands, he presented it to the elder, his voice ringing out: “Sir, as you return home to rally the southern capital’s sons to take up arms and defend their homeland, I have no other assistance to offer but this treasured sword I wear. May it bolster your journey.”

Seeing Lu’s determination, Yao accepted the sword without refusal and declared loudly and generously: “Thank you, Lord! If the Tatar cavalry resolutely invades the southern capital lands, I swear to fight them to the death with this sword. If I fail, I shall use it to end my own life!”

Lu sighed deeply and said: “Perhaps we shall meet again.”

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After seeing Yao Dongzhao off, Lu Xiangsheng mounted his horse and rode northward toward Anding Gate with his escort.

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Riding his famed steed Wumingji toward Anding Gate, followed by ten bodyguards, Lu Xiangsheng felt his heart surging with turbulent emotions. He was moved by Elder Yao’s visit and his noble resolve to return home and resist the invaders, yet an ominous premonition clung to his mind, impossible to shake.

Not only Elder Yao likened him to the legendary Yue Fei, the young protector of the realm; Lu himself often aspired to be like Yue Fei. Yet Yue Fei had died wronged and unfulfilled, unable to turn the tide.

He raised his eyes to the sky. The blue expanse was dotted with drifting white clouds, but he felt as if an endless darkness veiled all over Beijing, even the entire Ming empire’s vast sky. The glaring sun seemed dimmed and lifeless.

Unconsciously, he arrived at the gates of Anding.

Anding Gate stood on the eastern side of Beijing’s northern inner city wall. Its name signified dispatching troops to eradicate enemies, then returning victorious and restoring peace to the realm. Troops must return through Anding Gate.

Among the nine gates of Beijing’s inner city, seven have temples dedicated to the god of war Guan Yu within their barbicans. Only the two northern gates, including Anding, housed temples to Zhenwu, the True Warrior deity, known as “Anding Zhenwu.” Zhenwu, also called Xuanwu or Yuanwu, is the protector of the north. To safeguard peace and virtue, the True Warrior guarded the capital’s northern gate, unique among all gates.

Like the others, Anding Gate had a gate tower, an arrow tower, and a sluice tower. The arrow tower was within the barbican, the sluice tower on the barbican’s eastern moon wall, and the gate tower stood atop Anding Gate.

The gate tower had two levels: the lower floor with seven bays wide and the upper floor five bays. Inside, the walls on both sides had horse tracks for soldiers to walk or ride up and down the wall.

Lu Xiangsheng spurred his horse onto the horse track, feeling as if a mountain of weight pressed upon his chest, deepening his gloom. In moments, he passed through Anding Gate and entered the gate tower.