The Popular Romance of the History of the Qing Dynasty: Popular Romances of the Dynasties of China

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Features: "The virtue of the emperor is vast, the grace of the monarch is deep." (The opening lines are both solemn and playful, full of profound meaning—readers, do not be deceived.) These couplets were written on red paper by officials and commoners during the late Qing Dynasty as door decorations for the New Year. From a young age, I had them memorized. I remember my birthday was during the early years of the Guangxu reign in the late Qing Dynasty. Although the Qing Dynasty was gradually declining, the twenty or so provinces still submitted to the Qing court, daring not to rebel. Scholars studied in the cities, farmers worked in the fields, artisans practiced their crafts, and merchants traded in the markets, each content with their livelihoods and enjoying peace, as if under the vast virtue of the emperor and the boundless grace of the monarch. (How does it compare to today?) When I was about five or six years old, I often heard my father and older brothers say, "Our country is the Qing Dynasty, and we are its people." Thus, the word "Qing" was imprinted in my mind. Later, my father and brothers sent me to school, where I learned the names Zhao, Qian, Sun, and Li, and recited the Heavenly Bodies, the Five Elements, and more. Gradually, I learned to recognize the word "Qing." By the time I had studied the Great Learning, the Doctrine of the Mean, the Analects, and the Mencius, I had learned nearly three to five thousand characters. My teacher told me, "Numbers in books must be avoided in deference to the emperor!" I didn’t understand at all and asked my teacher what characters should be avoided. He wrote down "Xuan," "Ye," "Yin," "Hong," "Yi," and "Xu," instructing me to omit the last stroke of these characters. He then wrote "Cuo," "Ning," and "Chun," and added "Li," "Ning," and "Chun" next to them, explaining, "The character 'Cuo' should be replaced with 'Li,' 'Ning' with 'Ning,' and 'Chun' with 'Chun.'" I still didn’t understand until my teacher explained it in detail. I learned that "Xuan," "Ye," and "Yin" were the names of the Kangxi, Yongzheng, and Qianlong emperors of the Qing Dynasty, "Hong" and "Xu" were the names of the Jiaqing emperor, and "Ning" and "Chun" were the names of the Daoguang, Xianfeng, and Tongzhi emperors. The people were forbidden to write these characters arbitrarily, hence the need for avoidance. (Such a teacher was truly remarkable.) Later, when I took the imperial examinations, I found the rules even stricter, not daring to write even the substituted characters. I then thought that the Great Qing had unified the Central Plains, its remaining prestige was awe-inspiring, and its rule would last for eternity, even lasting as long as the heavens. (How skillfully written!) But who knew that the world’s fortunes were fickle, and rise and fall were unpredictable. While the interior remained relatively peaceful, the turmoil overseas grew day by day. Annam and Burma, though vassal states of China, were taken by Britain and France—needless to say, (the Qing Dynasty had been very generous.) Suddenly, Japan launched an invasion, and the Qing Dynasty sent troops to resist but suffered repeated defeats. With no choice, they had to bow their heads and seek peace, paying Japan 240 million taels of silver and handing over Taiwan Province and the Penghu Islands to them. Only then did Japan agree to stop. Two or three years later, Port Arthur and Dalian Bay in Fengtian Province were leased by Russia, Jiaozhou Bay in Shandong Province by Germany, Weihaiwei to the northeast of Jiaozhou Bay by Britain, and Guangzhou Bay in Guangdong Province by France. Moreover, many mines and railways in the interior were also taken by foreign powers. (This is what is called national humiliation.) As a result, the Qing Dynasty lost all its prestige, external threats remained unresolved, and internal troubles arose. The revolutionaries in the east and the revolutionaries in the west rose in rebellion, causing chaos for over a decade. The Qing court was unable to defend itself. Later, Wuchang rebelled, and the provinces responded one after another, ultimately overthrowing the 268-year-old Qing Dynasty and restoring the sovereignty of the 22 provinces. From then on, everyone criticized the Qing government’s incompetence and cursed it; some even called it a "lowly and shameless race with the hearts of wolves and tigers," attaching baseless stories to it, as if every Qing emperor was ignorant and cruel, and every Qing official was base and corrupt. This was perhaps too harsh. (A fair assessment.) I think the Chinese people’s hearts are truly unreliable. When the Qing Dynasty was in power, everyone flattered it, praising its vast virtue and deep grace. But after the Qing Dynasty fell, everyone condemned it as worthless. How sad is that? (The end of emperors is often like this.) When I had nothing to do, I studied the history of the Qing Dynasty in broad strokes and found both faults and virtues; both cruelty and benevolence. If it were as the people of the time said, even two or three years of the throne could not be secured—how could it last for 260 years? (Exactly, exactly.) However, by the end of the dynasty, the emperor was weak, the officials were incompetent, and the court was corrupt, so when the revolutionaries rose, the entire system collapsed. Now, the word "Qing" has become a part of history, and the land of China remains as it was. To transform chaos into order, one must carefully examine the rise and fall of the Qing Dynasty, learn from the good and correct the bad, as the ancients said, "The lessons of Yin are not far away." (Revealing the entire book’s purpose is how righteous and clear it is, unlike the usual novelists who blindly create falsehoods and spread chaos.) Let’s skip the unnecessary details and say that the foundation of the Qing Dynasty was in Shenyang to the east of Shanhai Pass. In its early days, it was just a small village where people gathered and built walls from piled earth. The place was called Edoli, and the people were of the Tungusic ethnicity. Their ancestors were said to have lived there since before the Tang and Yu dynasties, known as the Shushen Kingdom. In the 25th year of Emperor Shun’s reign, the Shushen Kingdom offered bows and arrows to the court, which were recorded in history. Over time, the population grew, and they branched into various tribes, each led by a chief who was tall, strong, and skilled in horseback riding and archery. During the Zhao Song Dynasty, Aiguda, the founder of the Jin Dynasty, was an outstanding figure among them, expanding his territory to both banks of the Yellow River, causing great trouble for the Song Dynasty. Later, when the Mongols rose, the Jin Dynasty declined, and the Mongols allied with the Southern Song Dynasty to conquer it. Some surviving remnants fled to the northeast and hid by the coast. After two hundred years, another great figure emerged; this person was said to be born of a heavenly maiden—a truly extraordinary tale! (How the heavenly maiden descended and what her relationship was with the weaver goddess Zhinü is unknown.) I dare not invent this out of thin air; it is from historical records: The heavenly maiden was born on the coast of the northeast, at the foot of Changbai Mountain. She had three sisters: the eldest was Engulen, the second was Zhengulen, and the youngest was Fulongulen. They were siblings, deeply affectionate with each other. However, the customs of the frontier were different from those of the interior, where men roamed and migrated, and women were also lively and loved to play. One day, the three sisters went for a walk in the fields and reached Bokulishan, a mountain east of Changbai Mountain, with its caves and gorges serene and beautiful. It was a spring day, with the air gentle and the scenery enchanting—yellow birds flying in pairs, green branches intertwined. They were delighted and continued walking down the mountain. About a mile ahead, they saw a clear, mirror-like pool with lush grass on both banks, covering the ground like a carpet. Fulongulen, innocent and full of springtime joy, invited her sisters to take off their clothes and bathe. Before they finished bathing, they heard the sound of birds coming from afar. Looking up, they saw two or three auspicious magpies, resembling sisters. One magpie spat something that fell right onto Fulongulen’s clothes. Quick and nimble, she immediately picked it up. It looked like a delicious fruit. Without knowing its name, she put it in her mouth. Her two sisters asked what she had picked up, but she had already swallowed it whole and could only mumble, "It was a red fruit." Her sisters did not press her for more details and got dressed and returned home together. But Fulongulen, after eating the fruit, found her stomach swelling, though she did not know why. Ten months later, she gave birth to a son who was not only extraordinary in appearance but also spoke clearly. Unwilling to abandon him, Fulongulen raised him at home. Time passed quickly, and the infant grew into a young boy, but Fulongulen’s pregnancy out of wedlock drew some gossip. Fortunately, the frontier was wild and sparsely populated, so she was able to raise him to adulthood. (This shows that the story of the heavenly maiden was originally absurd.) The boy’s name was Bukurinongshun, chosen by Fulongulen because he was conceived under Bokulishan after eating the red fruit, so she named him with the characters "Bukuri," as a. Bukurinongshun, when he was in his teens, was exceptionally intelligent. He often wondered about his origins, as he had a mother but no father, so he asked her, Fulongulen. She told him the name "Aisin Gioro." Aisin Gioro was the local dialect of the people living at the foot of Changbai Mountain. Later, the descendants of Bukurinongshun established the Manchu Empire, and the name was passed down as the Manchu language. In Chinese, "Aisin" is the same as the character for gold, and "Goro" means surname. Thus, the lineage of Bukurinongshun can be understood. Whether Fulongulen was truly a heavenly maiden is something I will not delve into. (Let’s leave it unexplained.) Now, as Bukurinongshun grew, he learned the skills of horseback riding and archery. In his free time, he would cut willow branches by the river and weave rafts. You ask, what was the meaning of weaving rafts? He had great ambitions. He thought that living in the wilderness was ultimately without distinction, but if he wove willow branches into a raft, he could travel. Indeed, nothing is impossible for those with determination. The willow branches grew more and more, and the raft became larger and larger, eventually becoming a small boat. Bukurinongshun was overjoyed and sat lightly on the raft, letting the river carry him away. A hero’s boldness and courage, as if guided by the spirits of the wind and the river, brought him to a peaceful place. (This is the spirit of braving the waves.)