My father is Chongzhen? Then I have no choice but to rebel.

Chapter 635 Xue Guoguan Leaves the Capital!

Zhou Shipu had no more doubts, and knelt down again, his voice firm and powerful:

"Your Majesty, I am foolish! Your Majesty's wisdom and foresight have made me realize the truth today! Building roads to defend against enemies and strengthening the foundation of the nation is a feat that will benefit generations to come! I swear to fulfill the great task entrusted to me by Your Majesty!"

"Get up."

Zhu Cilang nodded in satisfaction.

"After the cement road from Beijing to Nanjing is completed, let the laborers rest for a month. Then, construction on the Beijing-Tianjin Railway will begin immediately."

"Also, gather craftsmen as soon as possible to cast the rails. Bi Maokanghui will send people to help you with these matters."

"Beijing-Tianjin Railway?"

Zhou Shipu was stunned again, this time with surprise.

The distance from Beijing to Tianjin is only about 200 li, which is the heart of the capital region.

"Yes, the Beijing-Tianjin line."

Zhu Cilang explained.

"The distance is short and the project is easy to control, making it perfect as a test section. I want you to build it while learning from the experience in steel rail casting, roadbed stabilization, and bridge erection. Once this road is operational, I will allocate a huge sum of money to allow you to build it all the way to Liaodong and even to Korea."

This is a gradual strategy that gives the Ministry of Works the opportunity to train and learn from mistakes, while avoiding the turmoil caused by excessive one-time investment.

Zhou Shipu's eyes shone, as if he could already see the steel dragon winding its way up the land of the capital.

He kowtowed deeply:

"Your Majesty, I obey! The entire Ministry of Works will do its utmost to build the Beijing-Tianjin Railway into the best railway in the world! We will never fail Your Majesty's high expectations!"

"Go. The specific regulations should be discussed with the Ministry of Revenue and the Ministry of War, and then reported to me for my review."

"Your subject takes his leave!"

Watching Zhou Shipu's light and even somewhat impatient retreating figure, Zhu Cilang sat back down at his desk, picked up the now slightly cool teacup, and turned his gaze back to the window.

The cicadas still chirped incessantly, but in the cool world of the Qianqing Palace, a grand imperial transformation—replacing grain with steel and canal transport with railways—had already begun.

The mighty Ming Dynasty is shedding its heavy agricultural shell, revealing the cold fangs of industrial civilization.

A few days later, Xue Guoguan came to the palace to request an audience with Zhu Cilang.

He had changed out of his official robe with the scarlet crane embroidered badge and was now wearing a dark blue linen casual dress, which made him look even thinner.

Xue Guoguan had been staying in the capital for more than half a month in order to handle the transfer of family property and arrange the future of his children.

Now that everything is settled, it's time to say goodbye and return home.

He's leaving tomorrow as planned!

Zhu Cilang did not ask him to perform a grand ceremony, but simply raised his hand to offer him a seat.

Xue Guoguan bowed and said:

"Your Majesty, I have troubled you with your presence and feel uneasy. Now that the handover is complete, I will depart for the south tomorrow."

Zhu Cilang personally poured a cup of tea and pushed it in front of Xue Guoguan, his tone calm yet carrying immense weight:

"Minister Xue, there's no need for such excessive modesty. I simply want to tell you that without your ruthless purge of the officials in the capital, the confiscation of their ill-gotten gains, and the replenishment of the national treasury, the Ming Dynasty would likely not have survived to this day, let alone have the foundation for its overseas expansion and the development of railways. I know this clearly, and the historians will not forget it either."

These words directly washed away Xue Guoguan's "stigma" from back then, turning it into "meritorious service in stabilizing the country."

Xue Guoguan held the cup of tea, his hands trembling slightly, and his eyes instantly reddened.

Throughout his life, he bore too much infamy, was attacked by censors, and despised by upright officials. Even he himself thought that after his death, he would only be known as a "cruel official."

Now, the new emperor has personally acknowledged his achievements, a recognition that is a thousand times more valuable than any reward of gold or silver.

"His Majesty……"

Xue Guoguan's voice choked with emotion as he bowed deeply.

"Your subject... Your subject has no virtue or ability to deserve such praise."

Zhu Cilang smiled and said:

"If I say you're going to be one, then you're going to be one!"

After a pause, Zhu Cilang continued:

"Before you leave, go and see the Emperor Emeritus. Once you leave, the mountains and rivers will be vast, and it will be difficult to meet again."

Xue Guoguan was taken aback, then nodded:

"That is exactly what I was thinking."

The eunuch Ma Bao was already waiting outside the palace and personally led the way.

The two walked through the quiet palace alleys and arrived at the palace where the retired Emperor Chongzhen lived.

Far from the somber atmosphere of the Qianqing Palace, the courtyard is quiet and secluded. Several old locust trees are lush and verdant, and a swing sways gently in the breeze, casting dappled light and shadow on the ground.

The hall exuded a warm, homely atmosphere. Emperor Chongzhen had changed out of his dragon robe and was wearing an ordinary lake-blue silk shirt. He was squatting on the stone steps in the courtyard, holding a string of crystal-clear candied hawthorns and teasing his young daughter who was only a few years old.

The little princess giggled, wanting to grab the candied hawthorn, but afraid her father would grab her little hand. She ran around in circles in the courtyard, her clear laughter echoing like silver bells within the palace walls.

This was a scene that Emperor Chongzhen could never have imagined before the fall of the Ming Dynasty: no battle reports, no demands for military supplies, no shadow of national subjugation, only the joy of family life.

Xue Guoguan stood at the door, watching this scene, and dared not go forward, for fear of disturbing this long-lost picture of happiness belonging to an ordinary family.

Ma Bao whispered the message.

Emperor Chongzhen turned around, saw Xue Guoguan, and smiled gently. He casually handed a candied hawthorn to his daughter and got up to greet her personally.

"Qing Xue has arrived."

Chongzhen spoke casually, as if he were addressing an old friend.

"I am playing with Shuangxi right now. That child is very naughty."

Xue Guoguan quickly straightened his clothes and bowed respectfully:

"Your subject, Xue Guoguan, pays his respects to the Emperor Emeritus. May the Emperor Emeritus be well."

"No need for formalities, no need for formalities."

Emperor Chongzhen personally helped him up, his gaze sweeping over his face with a hint of emotion.

"I heard you're leaving? Good, good. I'm retiring, and so are you. In these peaceful times, someone has to enjoy the good life. Go back and take good care of your health, and live a few more years."

The two then entered a side hall, where Emperor Chongzhen dismissed the palace servants, leaving only tea.

Seeing that Emperor Chongzhen looked healthy and radiant, Xue Guoguan felt relieved.

Emperor Chongzhen sighed:

"The Ming Dynasty's current prosperity, with peace within the country and overseas expansion, owes much to Minister Xue."

Xue Guoguan quickly declined:

"Your Majesty is too kind. This is due to the great fortune and diligent governance of Your Majesty and Your Majesty the Retired Emperor. I am merely a lackey and have no right to claim credit."

Emperor Chongzhen waved his hand, not dwelling on the topic. After chatting for a few more minutes about the recent situation in the capital, Xue Guoguan got up to take his leave.

Just as he turned to leave, Chongzhen suddenly spoke, his voice not loud, but carrying a long-lost weariness and sincerity, his gaze drifting towards the swing outside the window:

"Qing Xue, take care."

Xue Guoguan stopped and turned around.

Chongzhen didn't look at him, but gazed out the window and said softly:

"Many years ago... I was foolish and wronged you. I was furious because of a few false accusations from a censor and imprisoned you. Although I was later found to be innocent, I... never gave you justice. Minister Xue, I'm sorry."

These words had been weighing on Chongzhen's mind for many years. Back then, he was too eager for quick success and fell for a counter-espionage plot, wrongly accusing Xue Guoguan of embezzlement. Although he later discovered his mistake, he did not exonerate Xue Guoguan in order to maintain the dignity of the emperor.

This matter has always been a thorn in his side.

Xue Guoguan trembled violently, his white hair shaking slightly.

He stood frozen in place for a long time before slowly turning around to face Emperor Chongzhen and bowing deeply.

He didn't speak or offer any explanation; his deep bow contained so much.

There is a sense of relief at past injustices, acceptance of the emperor's belated apology, and a complex emotion that transcends the boundaries between ruler and subject, and surpasses personal grudges.

"The past is gone."

Xue Guoguan's voice was hoarse, yet unusually calm.

"Your Majesty the Retired Emperor... take care of your health and do not worry about state affairs."

Having said that, he straightened up, stopped lingering, and walked out of the palace gate step by step with his back hunched over.

The sunlight shone on his aged back, making him appear exceptionally tall, yet carrying a hint of lonely determination.

Emperor Chongzhen stood by the window, gazing at the direction he had left in for a long time, until the figure disappeared at the end of the palace alley. Only then did he slowly sit back in his chair, let out a long sigh, and drink the remaining tea in his cup in one gulp.

The next morning, as dawn broke.

Outside Zhengyang Gate, carriages and horses were bustling about.

Xue Guoguan did not ride in any official sedan chair, but only hired an ordinary blue cloth carriage. His luggage was sparse, consisting of only a few simple camphor wood chests.

However, the people who came to see him off were of an unprecedented caliber in the Ming Dynasty.

Grand Secretary Hong Chengchou, dressed in a scarlet robe, stood at the front of the procession.

Behind him stood all the Grand Secretaries of the Cabinet, as well as the Ministers and Vice Ministers of the Six Ministries, a dense crowd of dozens of important officials.

They were not trying to curry favor with the resigned Grand Secretary, but rather to pay tribute to a kind of "decency," to this "Prime Minister" who, in turbulent times, extended the life of the Ming Dynasty and ultimately managed to retire unscathed.

There was no drumming or music, no clamor.

Only the sound of the morning breeze rustling the hem of the official's robe could be heard.

Ma Bao, representing Zhu Cilang, came to see him off, holding a jade slip that had been prepared beforehand, inscribed with four large characters: "Zhen Min Zhong Xiang".

This was bestowed by Zhu Cilang, a honor during his lifetime, and also hinted at Xue Guoguan's future posthumous title.

Ma Bao handed the jade slip to Xue Guoguan and whispered the emperor's edict:

"His Majesty said that Grand Secretary Xue has devoted himself to the country and deserves the honor of being a meritorious official of the Ming Dynasty. The scenery of Jiangnan is beautiful, so Grand Secretary should go and enjoy himself."

Xue Guoguan accepted the jade slip with both hands, faced the direction of the palace, and bowed three times and kowtowed nine times, tears streaming down his face. He no longer felt the humiliation and fear of the past, but only relief and gratitude.

The wheels turned, and the carriage slowly drove out of Zhengyang Gate, merging into the capital's main avenue in the morning light.

The officials who came to see him off stood for a long time, watching the carriage disappear into the distance.

Hong Chengchou stood with his hands behind his back, his eyes filled with complex emotions.

Ni Yuanlu, the Minister of Revenue standing beside him, said softly:

"Grand Secretary Xue's departure has set a benchmark for us ministers."

Minister of War Li Banghua nodded:

"In the past twenty years, the Grand Secretaries of the Cabinet have met tragic ends, some killed, some demoted, and some dying in despair. Grand Secretary Xue is the first to retire with honors during his lifetime and leave a lasting legacy after his death. Your Majesty's actions are to tell the world: I will not fail those who have devoted themselves to the Ming Dynasty."

This silent farewell carries more weight than any grand banquet.

It set a precedent for Zhu Cilang's new dynasty: those who have made contributions will still be honored even after their departure, and will have a good beginning and a good end.

This appeased the veteran officials and reassured the newcomers.

The carriage traveled south towards Wuxi, on the shores of Taihu Lake.

Outside the carriage window, the Ming Dynasty was rising. Xue Guoguan leaned against the carriage, stroking the warm jade slip, a long-relieved smile appearing on his lips.

His era has ended, but the era of the Ming Dynasty has just begun.

The heat of summer lingered into the July evening.

Inside the Firearms Research Institute on the outskirts of Beijing, however, there was an unusually heavy silence.

The craftsmen and soldiers on duty were gathered at the edge of the huge test square, everyone holding their breath and focusing their attention on the enormous, newly assembled structure in the center of the square.

It was a modified horizontal multi-cylinder steam engine. The cast iron body gleamed with a cold luster in the setting sun, and the robust flywheel, connecting rod, and crankshaft fit together perfectly.

Its output end is connected to a huge coil made of countless copper wires, and the other end of the coil leads to more than ten iron poles that stand tall around the square. At the top of the iron poles hang exquisitely blown glass vacuum bubbles of various shapes.

Emperor Tianwu, Zhu Cilang, walked slowly into the square, surrounded by a group of guards and eunuchs.

He wasn't wearing court robes, but only a dark blue casual robe. His expression was calm, but his gaze was sharp, fixed on the machine that symbolized the "industrial age."

Bi Maokang, covered in sweat, stepped forward, his voice trembling slightly with excitement:

"Your Majesty! As per your decree, the steam power and 'arc generator' have been successfully commissioned, and the fuel, water pressure, and gas pressure have all met the requirements. We await Your Majesty's... order to close the gates!"

"Close the switch."

Zhu Cilang uttered only two words, his voice not loud, yet they clearly echoed throughout the silent square.

A young craftsman who had been waiting nearby took a deep breath and suddenly pressed down on the wooden guillotine knife wrapped in insulating tape in his hand.

"Whoosh—crack! Boom—!!!"

A deep and penetrating whistle ripped through the evening's tranquility, followed by the distinctive, rhythmic roar of the steam engine!

White vapor gushed out of the condenser, and the flywheel began to rotate slowly, faster and faster, driving the connecting rod to reciprocate violently.

The next second, a miracle happened.

The darkness that had been empty around the square and even inside the glass bubble at the top of the towering iron pole was suddenly replaced by dozens of extremely dazzling, pale orbs of light!

That was not the flickering light of a candle or oil lamp, but a steady, cold, and utterly scorching bright light!

In an instant, the test field, spanning hundreds of feet, was illuminated as bright as day! Every grain of sand on the ground, every drop of sweat from the craftsmen, and the delicate patterns on Zhu Cilang's robe were clearly outlined in this artificial daylight.

There was no smoke, no burnt smell, only a heart-stopping, pure light.

"Divine...divine fire?!"

"My God! Is that thunder and fire?!"

After a brief silence, a burst of exclamations nearly drowned out the roar of the steam engine.

Some of the craftsmen lay prostrate on the ground, some stared wide-eyed in disbelief, while many more jumped up and down excitedly, pointing at the incredible light source and babbling incoherently.

They had seen the Ordnance Institute test cannons and hot air balloons take to the sky, but the miracle of light appearing out of thin air without burning completely overturned their understanding of "light" and "fire".

Zhu Cilang stood with his hands behind his back in the sea of ​​light, gazing up at the "little suns" hanging under the night sky.

The evening breeze ruffled his clothes, but his face showed an unprecedented mix of calm and turmoil.

Finally... finally, the era of oil lamps, candles, and rooms filled with soot is over.

This light, clean and pure, will illuminate not only this square, but also the path of the Ming Dynasty to the future. (End of Chapter)