True or False Cixi

Author: Zhang Baorui
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-06-01
Features: The long-flowing Yellow River has flowed through the vast land of the Chinese nation for countless years, nourishing the Chinese people. It has witnessed the joys and sorrows of the descendants of Yan and Huang, and has endured humiliation and hardship. It has seen the arrogance of Qin Shi Huang, the boldness of Emperor Wu of Han, the magnanimity of Emperor Taizong of Tang, the fatigue of Emperor Taizu of Song, the arrogance of Genghis Khan, and the literary talent of Emperor Qianlong. However, as it flowed into the dawn of August 14, 1900 (the 20th day of the 7th lunar month), it burst into a wail. The iron hooves of the Eight-Nation Alliance trod into the capital, Beijing. The capital of the Chinese people, Beijing, had fallen! In Beijing, the brutal crimes of the allied forces wrote a page in the history of the East that was the most cruel and barbaric. The Russian army was ruthless; they would snatch young women after looting each household. British soldiers loved the small feet of Chinese women; after raping them, they would cut off their feet and put them in their luggage. Austrian soldiers were habitual killers; they killed men for the hair braids trailing behind their heads and women for their red bellybands and embroidered shoes. Japanese soldiers knew the value of artifacts in the noble residences; they looted everything in sight. In the areas where German troops were stationed, houses were burned down, and temples were destroyed. Those imperial princes, beis, beile, and close relatives of the imperial family who did not leave the city were first beaten and then forced into hard labor. Men endured the hard labor, while women submitted to humiliation and sexual abuse. The majestic Drum Tower was shattered and burned, losing its grandeur over hundreds of years. Allied soldiers indulged in sexual excess day and night, openly looting. Not a single wealthy official, noble family, or humble household in Beijing escaped this catastrophe! The suffering and devastation of Beijing reached such an unprecedented level!
As the soldiers of the Eight-Nation Alliance committed their atrocities in Beijing, refugees and carts surged out of the De-sheng Gate like a tide. The sun had not yet risen, and the sky was gloomy. Gunshots continued to echo in the distance. Amidst the flow of people and carts, there were three old carriages. The pairs of horses pulling them were strong and robust, quite out of proportion to the old carriages. The first carriage passed smoothly. The second was stopped, and the young man with a gaunt face sitting in the shafts attracted the attention of the guards. His face was melancholic, his dark eyes vacant, and tears were streaming down his cheeks. He wore a black silk long gown and two black cloth battle skirts. His shoes were covered in dust, but his socks were exquisite and white. He held a small wooden box tightly in his hands. The inspecting guard glared at him, pulled aside the curtain, and peered into the carriage: Two beautiful women sat inside. One was young and elegant, her simple cotton dress hiding her noble demeanor and beauty. The other was a middle-aged woman, dignified and graceful, dressed in Han-style attire. Her black hair was tied in a modest bun, and she wore a sky-blue cotton shirt, like a lady from a small official’s family.
"What are you checking?" she asked calmly.
"Everyone must be checked, except for the Empress Dowager and the Emperor," the guard replied proudly.
"Have you seen the Emperor?" she asked, flicking her eyelids.
The guard shook his head, stammering, "I heard he’s been locked in Yingtai all this time and hasn’t been seen."
The first carriage had already moved a distance away when the old man who was in the second carriage came down, furious. He approached the guards and yelled, "You insolent little bastard, are you blind?!" He knocked the guard’s hand away as he tried to pull the curtain.
"Fine! You motherfucker, you actually dare to spout nonsense! Do you think the city is occupied by foreigners, so there’s no law?" The guard did not back down.
"Your Highness, please don’t be like this," the woman in the carriage said gently.
"Let them handle this behind them. We’re in a hurry! Don’t delay us!" The guard was dragged into the city tower by the people in the third carriage, and the gate loosened. The second carriage then slipped out, heading northwest.
After traveling for a while, the three carriages stopped in front of the gate of the Summer Palace. Someone came out of the gate, carrying something and placing it in the first carriage. The group of people and carriages then continued their journey. The carriages moved slowly northward, and they could already see the Temple of the Sleeping Buddha on the east side of Fragrant Hills. The scenery in the desolate countryside was bleak and desolate. In the midst of the crisis, the young man in the second carriage longed to hear the sound of the temple bells to fill the emptiness in his heart and dispel some of his sorrow. However, the ancient temple in the distance was unusually silent at this early hour, and only the faint sound of gunfire from the city added to the unease.
Many refugees who fled Beijing scattered into the countryside. These people living in the towns at the foot of the Yan Mountains mostly wanted to avoid the flames of war and return to the city to rebuild their broken homes once peace was restored. Therefore, the fewer refugees there were on the northern roads, the further north they traveled. Only the three carriages sped along the narrow paths.
North of Wanshou Mountain and Yuquan Mountain was the must-pass route for entering Beijing from the north. There was a small street here, but all the households had fled, and not a single livestock could be found even in the donkey and mule trading shops. As the group of people and carriages passed that street, the hooves of the horses struck the cobblestones, producing a clear and sharp sound, which only made those present more frightened and uneasy.
From here, there were two roads to the north: one to Shajihe to the east, passing through Bai She Village and Tangshan; the other to Changping County to the west. But could the foreign troops attack Beijing before sending troops to Shunyi and Changping? However, if they took the western route,,,, Fragrant Hills, pass through Yangzhuang, go to Dajue Temple, and then cross Fengtai, pass through Wanping, cross the Lugou Bridge, follow the Yongding River, and take Changxin Station, capturing Jietai Temple, Tanzhe Temple, Ma’anshan, Men’touguan, and surrounding Beijing.
The young man sitting in the shafts of the second carriage jumped out of the carriage, dazed, and wandered by the roadside, sighing from time to time, "Where can we go? Our future is bleak." He murmured to himself.
"We should go back. I’d rather die in Beijing than see our ancestors’ empire destroyed by war. Run, run, run. After running for so long, the city walls of Beijing are still clearly visible! Ah—"