Even someone like Flat Rabbit, whose brilliance came and went in unpredictable bursts, could grasp one simple truth about the current situation.
The court's only real hope lay in one thing.
That the Shared Governance faction would tear itself apart from within.
Only internal conflict could save the old order now, because without troops, without money, and without grain, Emperor Chongzhen had nothing left to gamble with except other people's divisions.
Anything else was wishful thinking dressed up as strategy.
Flat Rabbit laughed the moment the idea was implied, the sound carrying a mix of mockery and genuine amusement, as though he had just heard someone suggest that fire might politely decide not to burn.
"Cao Huachun," he called out, grinning, "you might as well put those little schemes away. The Shared Governance armies are not going to fight each other."
On the city wall, Eunuch Cao Huachun kept his expression steady, but his thoughts moved along a very different line.
Not fight each other?
Of course they would.
The moment Emperor Chongzhen truly abdicated, the question of who would take the throne would rise immediately, and when that happened, the princes within their ranks would not politely negotiate over tea.
They would compete.
And competition, in times like these, had a way of turning into something far less civilized.
Still, none of that needed to be said aloud.
Cao Huachun gave a brief nod, offered a few polite words, and withdrew at once, moving with surprising speed for a man of his station, as if the conversation itself had already yielded what he needed.
Moments later, he was back inside the palace, standing before Emperor Chongzhen.
"Your Majesty," he said, bowing, "that rebel called Flat Rabbit has made an outrageous demand. He requests that Your Majesty abdicate."
The reaction was immediate.
"Abdicate?" Emperor Chongzhen let out a cold laugh, the word itself seeming to offend something deep within him.
There had never been any real possibility of that.
He was not the kind of man who would quietly step down and hand over the throne, not even in the face of overwhelming pressure, not even when the world seemed determined to close in around him.
Death, perhaps.
Submission, never.
If there was a path forward, it would have to be carved out from the edge of collapse itself.
"Let them speak of abdication all they like," he said slowly. "If I step down, who among them will take the throne?"
Cao Huachun lowered his gaze.
"That remains unclear."
"Then tell me," the Emperor continued, his eyes sharpening, "how are these rebel forces arranged outside the city?"
Cao Huachun answered without hesitation.
"They are deployed separately. Each major force occupies its own position along the walls, their formations distinct and not intermixed. As for Wu Sangui, he has not appeared. His army is hidden far to the north."
At that, something flickered in Emperor Chongzhen's eyes.
Separate.
Not unified.
Each with its own base, its own interests, its own candidate.
A structure like that was not a single block of iron.
It was a collection of blades, all pointed in roughly the same direction for now, but capable of turning on each other the moment their interests diverged.
A thought took shape.
Then another.
By the time he spoke again, there was already a plan forming beneath his words.
"They come from different regions, each backing their own cause. Such a coalition cannot be truly unified. If handled correctly, they may be divided."
He paused briefly, then leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"I have an idea."
Cao Huachun inclined his head.
"Your Majesty?"
The Emperor spoke quietly, outlining his instructions in measured detail, each step designed not to confront the enemy directly, but to shift the ground beneath their feet.
"You will select a few bold eunuchs…"
---
Night fell.
North of the capital, in the forested hills, Wu Sangui's camp stretched across multiple ridges, its scale evident in the scattered glow of torches that lit the darkness like fallen stars, each flame marking the presence of men who had followed their commander into this carefully chosen position.
Wu Sangui had brought everything.
No reserves held back, no strength concealed.
Fifty thousand troops, hidden yet ready.
A force waiting for the right moment.
Not far beyond the outer perimeter, concealed within a patch of dense woodland, a field reporter crouched with a special operations team, their attention fixed not on the grand scale of the army, but on something far more specific.
They were changing memory cards.
The device beside them, a so-called "portable" camera roughly the size of a door panel, hummed softly as it was prepared for continued recording, its previous storage already filled with footage collected over several days of shadowing Wu Sangui's movements.
There had been no shortage of material.
Enough, in fact, that a single card could no longer contain it.
"Move faster," the reporter whispered, her voice tight with urgency. "We are not missing anything tonight."
Before the team could finish, movement appeared in the distance.
Three figures on horseback.
Eunuchs.
Riding hard toward the base of the hills.
The reporter's eyes lit up instantly.
"This is it," she said under her breath. "Big news. Swap the card, now. Start recording."
The team accelerated, hands moving with practiced precision, and within moments the new card was in place, the camera lifted, and the group slipping silently through the trees until they reached a vantage point close enough to capture everything without being seen.
Through the grass, the lens locked onto the scene.
Wu Sangui's guards stepped forward, blocking the eunuchs' path.
"Who are you? State your business."
The leading eunuch straightened slightly, gathering what remained of his official bearing.
"My name is Zhang Yin. I serve at His Majesty's side."
The guards exchanged glances, then grinned.
"Oh, one of His Majesty's people?" one of them said, the tone light, almost mocking. "And what does someone like you want with our General?"
It was a small shift in attitude.
Once, a palace eunuch would have been enough to make even seasoned soldiers lower their heads.
Now, they joked.
Zhang Yin felt the change as clearly as anyone, but he swallowed his irritation, keeping his voice controlled.
"I carry a secret edict from His Majesty. I request an audience with General Wu."
The guard nodded lazily.
"Wait here."
From their hidden position, the reporter and her team exchanged looks.
"This is huge," one of them whispered. "But if they take him inside, we lose the shot."
"Then we adapt," the reporter replied, though the uncertainty in her eyes suggested she knew how narrow their window was.
And then, unexpectedly, the problem solved itself.
Wu Sangui came out.
He did not summon the eunuchs inward.
He stepped out to meet them personally.
A man in his position understood the value of appearances, especially when the throne he might one day claim had not yet fallen.
Respect, even if only performed, still had its uses.
He approached with a formal gesture.
"Eunuch Zhang," he said, "you honor me with your presence. I regret not receiving you sooner."
Zhang Yin lifted his chin slightly, allowing himself a trace of dignity.
"General Wu, I bring His Majesty's secret edict."
Under normal circumstances, Wu Sangui would have knelt.
Presented himself properly.
Observed the full ritual.
Now, he merely smiled.
"Then let us hear it."
The absence of ceremony hung in the air, unspoken but unmistakable.
Zhang Yin hesitated briefly before continuing.
"This matter is confidential. I ask that you dismiss those around you."
Wu Sangui glanced to either side.
A few soldiers stepped back, leaving only his most trusted guards nearby.
"That will suffice," he said.
Zhang Yin lowered his voice.
"His Majesty is aware that you have aligned yourself, at least in appearance, with the Shared Governance faction. They are now pressuring him to abdicate. Are you aware of this?"
Wu Sangui nodded.
"Of course. However, I am not truly one of them. I have never demanded His Majesty's abdication."
Zhang Yin's expression brightened, as though reassured.
"As expected, General Wu remains loyal."
Inside, Wu Sangui almost laughed.
Loyalty was a flexible concept.
But he let the moment pass.
Zhang Yin leaned in slightly.
"His Majesty is surrounded on all sides and understands that his position may not be preserved. He has considered abdication. However, he does not wish the realm to fall into the hands of… lesser men. After careful thought, he believes that if the throne must be yielded, it should go to a man of true capability. A hero."
Wu Sangui's eyes sharpened.
Zhang Yin continued.
"A man such as yourself."
There it was.
The hook.
Wu Sangui did not react immediately, though something beneath the surface had already begun to shift.
"Is that so?" he asked lightly.
Zhang Yin produced a document.
"His Majesty's personal edict. You may read it."
Wu Sangui took it, holding it up to the torchlight, scanning the contents carefully.
The wording was, as expected, layered with formality, circling around the central idea before arriving at it.
The Emperor acknowledged the instability of his position.
Rejected the legitimacy of the other claimants.
And offered something extraordinary.
If Wu Sangui could defeat the other rebel forces, the throne would be his.
Wu Sangui lowered the document slowly.
Inside, satisfaction rose like a tide.
This was perfect.
He could seize the throne by force, of course.
But that would forever stain his rule.
A ruler who takes power without legitimacy earns a name that history never forgets.
A throne taken improperly remains improper, no matter how firmly it is held.
But this…
This changed everything.
With this edict, the narrative shifted.
He would not be a usurper.
He would be chosen.
Sanctioned.
Legitimized.
He looked up at Zhang Yin, a faint smile forming.
"Return and inform His Majesty," he said, his tone calm, almost respectful, "that I will handle the rest."
He paused, then added, the meaning unmistakable.
"I will eliminate the others."