The Fragile Southern Ming Dynasty in Exile

By the mid-17th century, the Ming dynasty’s flame flickered precariously in southern China. The Yongli Emperor, Zhu Youlang, nominally ruled from his makeshift court, but real power increasingly concentrated in the hands of military strongmen who had survived the Qing conquest of northern China. Among these warlords, Sun Kewang emerged as the most dominant figure, controlling vast territories across Yunnan, Guizhou, and parts of Sichuan.

Sun had risen through the ranks of Zhang Xianzhong’s rebel forces before aligning with the Ming resistance. His military successes against the Qing earned him the title “Prince of Qin” (秦王), but this honor only fueled his political ambitions. By 1652, Sun had relocated the Yongli Emperor to Anlong (安龙) in Guizhou province – a move that appeared protective but in reality isolated the monarch from his remaining supporters.

Sun Kewang’s Consolidation of Absolute Power

With the emperor safely confined in Anlong, Sun Kewang established his own parallel government in Guiyang. Historical records note: “Sun Kewang used the emperor’s name to issue commands, mobilize troops, and collect taxes without ever reporting to the throne. He arbitrarily decided matters of life and death while the emperor in Anlong remained completely uninformed.”

Sun’s administration replicated imperial structures with shocking audacity. He established his own Grand Secretariat, Six Ministries, and censorial system. Officials in his territories increasingly recognized only Sun’s authority, referring to him as “Lord of the State” (国主) in official correspondence while barely acknowledging the emperor’s existence.

Evidence of Sun’s pretensions appears in surviving artifacts. A 1654 bronze incense burner commissioned by one of Sun’s generals at Jizu Mountain bears inscriptions praising Sun’s virtues while omitting any reference to the Yongli Emperor. The vessel reads: “May Buddha’s light shine upon us, praying for the Lord of the State’s endless longevity and the empire’s eternal stability.”

The Failed Coronation and Growing Opposition

By 1654, Sun’s ambitions reached their zenith. He planned an elaborate coronation ceremony in Kunming during the fifth lunar month, preparing to declare himself emperor of a new dynasty he intended to call “Later Ming” (后明). Contemporary accounts describe extravagant preparations:

“Troops in full armor lined the streets from Wuhua Mountain to the southern gate. Sun believed any opposition could be crushed by military force. But heaven intervened – from dawn until noon, torrential rains flooded the streets, soaking soldiers and officials alike. The coronation had to be abandoned.”

This meteorological intervention likely concealed deeper resistance within Sun’s ranks. Powerful generals like Li Dingguo and Liu Wenxiu, who commanded significant forces, reportedly opposed Sun’s usurpation. The failed coronation marked a turning point, damaging Sun’s prestige and emboldening his opponents.

The Anlong Puppet Court

Life for the Yongli Emperor in Anlong resembled gilded captivity. Sun’s officials monitored the court’s every move, while two key figures – Marquis Ma Jixiang and eunuch Pang Tianshou – secretly collaborated with Sun. Their conspiracy reached shocking depths when they proposed the emperor voluntarily abdicate in Sun’s favor.

Ma even commissioned a painting of the “Abdication of Yao and Shun” (尧舜禅受图), the legendary peaceful transfer of power between ancient sage-kings. When artist Gu Qipin refused to create this propaganda piece, Ma had him arrested and beaten to death in Guiyang – a stark demonstration of Sun’s absolute control.

Some courageous officials like Xu Ji and Lin Qingyang risked their lives to memorialize against Ma and Pang’s treachery. But their protests changed little. As one historian observed: “When the court’s very survival depended on Sun Kewang’s whims, accusations against his collaborators could only preserve the barest semblance of imperial dignity.”

Cultural and Political Implications

Sun Kewang’s near-usurpation reveals fascinating tensions in late Ming loyalism. His administration implemented genuine reforms – eliminating corrupt practices in official appointments and simplifying bureaucratic procedures. Yet these measures served primarily to legitimize his personal rule.

The religious symbolism Sun employed shows careful cultural calculation. By associating himself with Buddhist piety (as seen in the Jizu Mountain inscriptions) while maintaining Ming ritual forms (including an ancestral temple honoring both the Ming founder and his former leader Zhang Xianzhong), Sun sought to position himself as both reformer and legitimate successor to Ming authority.

The Legacy of a Failed Usurper

Sun Kewang’s story represents a crucial “what if” moment in Chinese history. Had his 1654 coronation succeeded, the Southern Ming resistance might have fractured completely, accelerating the Qing conquest. Instead, his overreach alienated key allies like Li Dingguo, who would later rescue the Yongli Emperor from Anlong.

The episode also illuminates the complex dynamics of warlordism in collapsing dynasties. Sun’s regime demonstrated how military strongmen could simultaneously uphold and undermine imperial authority – protecting the Ming legacy while preparing to supplant it.

Modern historians debate whether Sun represented the last gasp of Ming autocracy or a potential alternative to Qing rule. His administrative reforms suggest genuine state-building potential, yet his personal ambition ultimately undermined this promise. The torrential rains that thwarted his coronation may have altered China’s history – preserving the Ming loyalist cause just long enough for its final, tragic acts to unfold.

The Anlong interlude remains one of the most dramatic chapters in China’s dynastic transition, where imperial tradition, warlord ambition, and sheer weather conspired to shape the nation’s destiny. Sun Kewang’s story serves as a powerful reminder of how personal ambition and historical contingency intertwine in moments of political crisis.