Chapter 549: Conquerors from the Great Ming

Old Bai Niu: I've found that when I rush out updates, the plot always tends to wander, because I'm forced to cobble together some words to meet the post. Better to finish a whole major plot arc before posting, so readers can enjoy it smoothly, and I can keep it tight to the central idea, avoiding too many minor tangents that go against the original intent of the writing. Hmm, a big chapter won't be less than six thousand characters.

……

In the ninth month of the fourteenth year of Chongzhen, already October by the later solar calendar, the weather both inside and outside the passes began to turn cool and cold.

Outside the passes, the Kuanhe region.

The clear waters of the Kuan River meandered from north to south, with dense vegetation and abundant forests on both banks, and patches of grassy marshland visible here and there. But this scenic haven of birdsong and fragrant flowers had already become a place of death; the conquerors from the Great Ming had brought unimaginable death and slaughter.

Daji City on the left bank, that originally crude fortress of wood and earth, now had its gates wide open. From within, columns of black smoke rose from time to time; the houses and tents inside, save for the temple, had all been set ablaze.

Row after row of wooden poles stood less than a hundred paces from the river, with people hanging from them like chickens. These people, all uniformly dressed in finery (relatively speaking), each had their feet tightly bound by thick ropes and were hung head-down from the tops of the poles.

From their throats, or their hands and feet, fresh blood dripped steadily. Each had eyes wide open, bodies twisted, dying slowly as their blood drained away.

By now, few were still struggling. Over the long hours, most of those hanging had succumbed, unable to endure. Their rigid faces were full of ferocity and terror. These people had originally been the chieftains of various tribes, or at least minor headmen. Yet now they died like chickens.

Relatively speaking, these people were the lucky ones. Not far in front of the wooden frames lay lumps of bloody, mangled flesh. Those things all displayed a peculiar contortion, clearly having endured unimaginable pain and struggle before death. They had all been trampled to death by stampeding horses.

And there was more...

Gunshots rang out one after another. Beside the wooden frames, corpses lay strewn in disorder, each dead in a different manner, their expressions anguished. Although compared to being trampled or hanged, this way of dying was easier, the pain of being struck by a bullet was still unbearable.

South of Daji City, a dark mass of captured tribal herders gathered, along with countless cattle, horses, tents, and the like. On both banks of the Kuan River, and across the distant grasslands and hills, squads of fierce Great Ming cavalry galloped, continuously escorting in more captives, carts, tents, cattle, and horses.

Amid the cracking of leather whips, large groups of Mongols were bound and kneeling on the ground. Men and women, old and young alike, all wore expressions of dull numbness, with unconcealable fear and worry in their eyes. Truly, calamity had fallen from the sky. They had come in good faith to attend the Damu Assembly, only for it to become an assembly of death. The Ming army's sortie beyond the passes had exceeded everyone's expectations.

Amid their barely concealed terror, some others swaggered about, brandishing whips as they walked among the crowd.

These people were all originally Han Chinese slaves who had been taken captive. The moment the Jingbian Army arrived, they immediately turned the tables and became masters. Using the former Han slaves to temporarily manage the tribes, organizing them into squads of fifty or a hundred, was one of the Jingbian Army's strategies for the campaign beyond the passes.

The facts proved that when serfs turned into masters, the boost to everyone's motivation was obvious. These Han slaves all threw themselves into their work with full enthusiasm.

Their job, first of all, was to identify those tribal chieftains and warriors who were hostile to the Han people and loyal to the Qing state. Although during the Jinzhou campaign, most of the Jasagh and Assistant Taiji of the thirteen Outer Vassal Mongol Banners had gone with the army, some Banner Administrators and Vice Administrators had been left behind.

Most of these people were singled out and killed. Even the merchant caravans accompanying the army felt these people would be difficult to manage and that execution was the cleaner solution.

Their executions were divided into three grades. First grade: stuffed into sacks and trampled to death by horses.

Second grade: hung from wooden poles to die.

Last grade: executed by blade, axe, or arquebus.

The killing here was in full, fervent swing, terrifying the captive herders watching on. Over on the other side, the on-site selling was equally in full, fervent swing.

West of Daji City, mountains of cattle, horses, furs, carts, tents, and people were piled up for on-site sale. The scene was extremely lively, with a ceaseless din of shouting. Numerous merchants came and went, picking out goods that caught their fancy.

These goods had already been registered, and those people had also been screened and proven harmless, ready for buying and selling.

According to pre-established rules, even the cattle, horses, wealth, goods, and people seized by the armed merchant caravans had to be registered and sold uniformly by the Commerce Division. Private hoarding was a major crime, but the prices were more favorable, for those caravans had contributed their effort, and they could also earn merit points.

Many people had their eyes opened wide; they hadn't expected the grasslands to hold so many things. The head of the Commerce Division, Tian Changguo, had estimated before the campaign that they might obtain one hundred and seventy-six types of commercial goods; it seemed he had underestimated.

A shrewd shopkeeper, accompanied by several attendants—one of whom was even a swordsman—bought up a vast quantity of sable, squirrel, and black fox pelts in one go, along with several hundred head of cattle and sheep. Thinking of starting his own ranch, he also wanted to buy some Tartar women and children to take back.

He suddenly realized he had gotten too carried away with his buying and hadn't brought enough grain tickets to cover it, so he had to buy on credit.

For this campaign beyond the passes, Tian Changguo had made it clear that credit was allowed. He was very confident; no one dared to default on a debt to the Jingbian Army—unless they could flee the Eastern Circuit, or even flee the Great Ming entirely. But the property of anyone who defaulted would certainly be confiscated.

On a large camp stool in front of this shopkeeper, a shogunate clerk found business too booming; he felt his wrist was getting sore. He was just waiting for the merchant in front of him to finish his purchases so he could switch shifts with a colleague.

But unexpectedly, there was no movement from the man for a long time. The clerk looked up, slightly puzzled, and saw the shopkeeper frowning, staring silently at the large group of Tartar women and children over there.

The market west of the city was arranged in sections for cattle, sheep, horses, furs, miscellaneous goods, and people. The people were further subdivided, such as whether they had skills, whether they were strong, whether they were adults or children, and so on. In front of each category, their prices were clearly marked, and a wooden sign was stuck in the ground reading: "Prices Clearly Marked, No Further Bargaining."

Although Tian Changguo had already agreed on the prices for various goods with the merchants on the campaign beforehand, some people still liked to haggle. The accompanying army clerks, utterly annoyed, had urgently made these signs and stuck them up.

After a long while, they heard the shopkeeper mutter to himself: "Some ragged little Tartars, ragged little women, and the prices are this high?"

As the shopkeeper stared, inside the pen over there, the many Tartar women and children looked at him, some with numb expressions, some with hopeful ones. The great slaughter south of the city had scared them out of their wits. If they could be bought by these Ming merchants, regardless of the future, their immediate safety was assured.

In any case, in their daily lives within the tribe, whenever war or natural disaster struck, they would just be passed around among the various tribes. Being bought again was of no concern to them. They had even heard that over in the Eastern Circuit, one could eat their fill by working there, which was far better than being outside the passes.

Hearing these words, a Tartar woman grew anxious. She understood some Chinese and cried out in halting Han speech: "We are not ragged, we can work..."

The clerk actually recognized this shopkeeper. His surname was Sun, and he used to run a pawnshop in Huailai City. The clerk had even pawned things there himself and had never had a good impression of this sly merchant. Now that he'd struck it rich, he was putting on airs.

Upon hearing this, the clerk said bluntly: "Shopkeeper Sun, running a pawnshop has addled your brains. How can people be 'ragged'? Look at these Tartars, every one of them stout and sturdy, bursting with life. They can herd livestock, process furs, endure hardship and hard work, and are skilled at washing clothes and making beds. In what way are they 'ragged'?"

The surrounding merchants had also gathered around by now, and upon hearing this, they all burst into jeering laughter.

The attendants beside Shopkeeper Sun also looked embarrassed. Their master's occupational disease had flared up, leading him to spout such absurd words. They figured that in the future, within the Eastern Circuit, he would surely become a laughingstock. Seeing the others pointing and whispering, they too felt they had lost face.

"This campaign beyond the passes has yielded enormous gains for our army!"

Tian Changguo, the head of the Commerce Division, thin as a fried dough twist, strode over with his head high and chest out, surrounded by great merchants like Lai Mancheng.

Lai Mancheng was still clad in iron armor, hefting his Green Dragon Crescent Blade. During the time outside the passes, he had boasted of cutting down five Tartars, though whether it was true or false was anyone's guess.

"All thanks to the martial might of the Jingbian Army, and also thanks to the care of Director Tian."

The merchants' flattery surged like the tide.

"When there's money, everyone earns it. Gentlemen, rest assured, the good days are still to come."

Tian Changguo clasped his hands behind his back, his back ramrod straight. He realized that joining the Commerce Division had been the right choice; these days, he was truly like a fish in water.

A merchant suddenly said: "The great army will soon cross the Kuan River and the Qinglong River to attack the Kharchin Left Banner, and even the Tartar slaves along the Laoha River and Daling River. Might Director Tian persuade Generals Wen and Gao to let us follow?"

Tian Changguo pondered for a long moment and sighed: "Gentlemen know that the closer we get to the Jinzhou slave rebels over there, the more we must consider everyone's safety."

The merchants immediately became impassioned: "For country and for people, why begrudge this body?"

"Director Tian, please be at ease. We have long since put life and death out of our minds!"

"The soldiers at the front fight bloody battles; how can we dwell safely in the rear? We wish to offer our meager strength."

The merchants beside him desperately lobbied. The gains from the army's sortie beyond the passes had made their eyes red with envy. Further northeast, towards the Daling River basin, the Tartar population and wealth were even denser. Not to seize them would truly be a waste.

Tian Changguo was still pondering when he suddenly saw a crowd gathered ahead. "What's the matter?"

After clarifying the reason, he said to Shopkeeper Sun and the surrounding merchants: "The prices set by my Commerce Division are absolutely fair, cheating neither young nor old. If you cannot trust Old Tian, can you not trust our Jingbian Army?"

The surrounding merchants said one after another: "Director Tian's words are too severe."

They all spoke at once, condemning Shopkeeper Sun: "Shopkeeper Sun has gone too far."

"That old pawnshop habit is unacceptable."

"That's the first time I've heard of able-bodied people being called shabby."

"Old Sun, times are different now. Every word and phrase must be thought through carefully. Don't sour the relationship between our trading house and the army."

Under the crowd's reproach, Shopkeeper Sun's face reddened, and he bowed all around, begging forgiveness.

The matter passed quickly, and the market returned to its bustle. To the various shopkeepers, their time was also precious and could not all be spent gawking.

The merchants beside Tian Chang followed behind him, continuing their lobbying.

To them, Shopkeeper Sun was only a minor figure; a few light remarks would suffice, not worth investing much energy in.

Lobbying was the important matter.

……

"Over a month beyond the frontier, our great army's achievements are remarkable. We have swept through the Kharchin, Tumed, Aohan, and Barin tribes, seizing vast numbers of cattle, horses, wealth, and goods. The Tatar slaves flee at the mere rumor of our approach."

Outside a grove by the Kuan River, Wen Fangliang strolled and chatted idly with Gao Shiyin, Shen Shiqi, and others.

Around the grove, guards from the three battalions were posted everywhere. They had all changed into winter gear: thick padded cotton coats covered by armored vests and arm guards, along with fur-collared greatcoats with short sleeves. Warm without hindering combat, the coats had hoods at the back to ward off wind and rain.

In the past, the Jingbian Army used capes and cloaks, which looked imposing but were actually impractical, because in battle many would shed their capes to avoid hampering their fighting.

Of course, the officers still wore capes and cloaks — Wen Fangliang and his two companions, for instance, each wore a great scarlet cloak.

Inside their helmets, these soldiers also had small warm caps as lining, and the military boots on their feet were equally warm and thick.

The soughing autumn wind carried a distinct chill against the face, yet these elite warriors stood utterly motionless, only their eyes watching the surroundings with vigilance.

Gao Shiyin's expression was relaxed: "Of course. The tribes beyond the frontier are mostly left with the old and weak. Even if they have some able-bodied men, how could they be a match for our Jingbian Army?"

Shen Shiqi drew a breath, brimming with smug satisfaction: "Fighting these Mongol Tatars is truly easy."

As he spoke, he hummed a little tune: "Their wives shall be my concubines, their sons shall be my servants... my horsewhip shall flog them heavily."

At his singing, whether Wen Fangliang, Gao Shiyin, or the staff officers behind them, every face showed revulsion. Yet Shen Shiqi felt no shame — on the contrary, he took pride in it and continued humming without pause.

The fifteen thousand troops beyond the frontier — the Jingbian Army's Second Battalion, first-class troops, plus several thousand men from the Loyalty Battalion, all mounted cavalry — served as the vanguard. Under their thunderous momentum, the lively damu gatherings across the grasslands turned into slaughter meets.

The remaining forces of numerous tribes were swept away in a single blow. The armed merchant caravans quickly followed up, scooping them up wholesale. Everything that could be moved from each tribe was taken away — even pots, bowls, ladles, and basins were swept clean. If the slaves in Jinzhou learned of what had happened in their rear, they would surely weep bitterly and regret it beyond measure.

Of course, as the great army rolled eastward, crossing one dry gully after another and passing through one stretch of desolate grassland after another, more and more Mongol tribes got word and fled overnight — which was also the result of deliberate publicity by Wen Fangliang and his men.

In the mouths of those terrified Mongols, the Jingbian Army that had come beyond the frontier was already rumored to possess a hundred thousand cavalry.

Wen Fangliang and the others believed this rumor benefited the army and benefited the Grand General fighting in Jinzhou, as it could exert immense pressure on the slave bandits there.

"Scout riders report back that the Grand General has fought successive great battles at Jinzhou. Several hundred thousand troops are locked in stalemate at the Nüer River and other places. Our army must strike swiftly to break the deadlock."

The army beyond the frontier maintained constant contact with Wang Dou via scout riders, so Wen Fangliang and his men were also informed of the intelligence from Jinzhou — and vice versa for Wang Dou.

Gao Shiyin nodded: "Mm. The cavalry will set out the day after tomorrow. First strike the main camps of the Kharchin Left and Right Banners, then attack north toward Longcheng. That so-called Gulusiqibu is a diehard of the Manchu Tatars — let's give him a harsh lesson!"

The Kuan River area where the army now found itself fell within the territory of the Kharchin Right Banner, part of Subudi's nomadic grazing lands and a section of the Josotu League. Subudi had submitted to Huang Taiji in the first year of Chongzhen and was considered a diehard pro-Qing power — a man of resource and cunning. His son Gulusiqibu was equally brave and skilled in battle.

In the ninth year of Tiancong, Huang Taiji decreed the formation of the Kharchin Left and Right Banners. Gulusiqibu commanded the Right Banner, was granted the title of Jasagh, and was enfeoffed as Gushan Beizi with the honorific Doroi Dureng. In total, twenty-two niru were organized, with forty-four company commanders, amounting to 6,600 households and over 33,000 people. His uncle Seleng commanded the Left Banner.

Among the Outer Vassal Mongol banners, the Kharchin Banner was particularly favored by the Qing court, with repeated intermarriages making it their screen and bulwark in Monan. If their nest were uprooted, the intimidating effect on the pro-Qing forces among the Outer Vassal Mongols would be considerable.

And from the Kuan River, they were already not far from the princely encampments of those two banners — one on the Laoha River, the other at Mount Longshan on the Daling River. The cavalry, moving swiftly, could reach them within a few days.

Although intelligence reported that many Kharchin tribes had already begun to migrate, Wen Fangliang and his men were not worried. Those Mongol tribes could flee beyond the reach of attack only if they abandoned all their cattle, horses, and tents; otherwise, their migration would be slow.

In the military plan, after striking the Kharchin Banner, the army would head north to Longcheng. From there, depending on the military situation, they would either advance east, directly reaching the west of Jinzhou city, or push north, pressing toward Yizhou.

The army might even continue north to strike the Qing diehards, the Khorchin tribe.

Among the thirteen Outer Vassal Mongol banners, the Tüsheetu Prince of the Khorchin Right Banner commanded a population of 254 niru, while the Joriktu Prince of the Left Banner had 193 niru. The Left and Right Banners together totaled 447 niru — a vast population of over 22,000 households.

If they went in to burn and slaughter, the blow to the Qing state would be unimaginably heavy.

The three generals discussed these strategies in detail for a while and all found no problems. Gao Shiyin suddenly recalled something. He cracked his knuckles loudly and grinned savagely: "Old Wen, I hear you've permitted some small tribes to submit? What use are these Tatars? I say, kill all the leaders and sell their entire tribal populations to the merchants."

Shen Shiqi nodded in approval.

Wen Fangliang raised his head to look at the sky and said with a serious expression: "Enough. Our division's awe-inspiring might is already sufficient. We can begin taking in some people."

He said flatly: "Old Gao, slaughter is only a means, not the end. The route we are about to march is quite dangerous. Having some small tribes familiar with the grasslands lead the way can increase our chances of victory and further sow division among the slave bandits in Jinzhou."

Gao Shiyin was stunned for a moment and suddenly felt that Wen Fangliang seemed somewhat unfamiliar. When he shed his usual cynical expression, he carried an inexplicable aura.

He muttered: "You're the Staff Department Ambassador. Whatever you say goes."

A sudden sense of crisis rose in his heart. The brothers around him were all growing; he still had much to learn.

……

The Capital.

The Chongzhen Emperor dozed briefly, leaning against his desk, but soon woke with a start. He waved his hand, stopping the duty eunuch's remonstrations. He ate a few pastries, then once again concentrated intently on reading memorials.

The majority of these memorials concerned battle reports from Jinzhou. At Chongzhen's demand, affairs at Jinzhou were reported daily.

They streamed in endlessly, piling onto his desk. Fearing deception by his ministers, he cross-referenced the memorials of Hong Chengchou, Zhang Ruoqi, Qiu Minyang, Wang Chengen, Wang Dou, and others from multiple angles. Wang Chengen's memorials, in particular, he trusted more.

The Jinzhou campaign was in a stalemate. The Ming army's earlier victory at the Nüer River had heartened him, but since then both sides had been locked in a standoff — no great battles, but incessant skirmishes. Although the slave bandits had slowed their assault on Jinzhou, the city remained besieged.

Thus the two sides remained deadlocked, and what was being tested was their respective logistical supply capacity.

The Minister of Revenue, Li Daiwen, could only bemoan his plight: grain and fodder were hard to sustain, hard to sustain. Even with dried fish from Liaodong, they were still hard to sustain.

Every time Wang Chengen's memorial urging grain and fodder arrived, he would complain endlessly.

As he complained more and more without offering any solution, the Chongzhen Emperor grew vexed and began entertaining the idea of replacing Li Daiwen with Ni Yuanlu.

According to the ancestral institutions of the Great Ming, men from Zhejiang could not serve in the Ministry of Revenue. Ni Yuanlu was a Zhejiang man. In the twenty-sixth year of Hongwu, the Ming Founder had decreed: officials of the Ministry of Revenue must not be from Zhejiang, Jiangxi, or the Suzhou-Songjiang regions — even the clerks handling day-to-day affairs were included.

The reason was that these regions were the primary sources of the Great Ming's tax revenue. To prevent Ministry of Revenue officials from colluding with officials, gentry, and powerful families in Jiangsu-Zhejiang, Suzhou-Songjiang, and Jiangxi to engage in favoritism and fraud, the Ming Founder had issued an explicit order that Ministry of Revenue officials must not be appointed from these places.

To remedy the dire fiscal problems, the Chongzhen Emperor could no longer heed ancestral institutions. But choosing a replacement was one thing; the reality of the grain and fodder pressure on the Liaodong front remained. Distant water could not quench a nearby thirst.

The Grand Secretaries all believed that the Liaodong affair could not be protracted and must be resolved while morale was high. The Grand Secretaries complained in unison, and even Chen Xinjia began to waver, sounding out the views of Hong Chengchou and others.

Under immense pressure from all sides, Hong Chengchou was also hesitating. Only Wang Dou still held firm.

He argued that while the imperial army's grain and fodder supply was difficult, the slave bandits' was even harder. If they simply held the stalemate, the slave bandits would inevitably retreat, and victory could be achieved without fighting.

Clearly, Wang Dou's opinion carried great weight, and so the campaign had remained deadlocked.

Thinking of Wang Dou, the Chongzhen Emperor felt an indescribable mix of emotions. He had already caught wind of certain rumors — rumors said to come from beyond the frontier.

He picked up another memorial and his brow furrowed. Before his death, Yang Sichang had recommended Ding Qirui to serve as Minister of War, Viceroy of Huguang, Henan, Sichuan, and all forces north and south of the Yangtze, while concurrently serving as Viceroy of the Three Border Regions of Shaanxi, tasked specifically with exterminating the Cao bandits and the Ge and Zuo bandits.

The Chongzhen Emperor had also held Ding Qirui in high regard, bestowing upon him the Imperial Sword, Flying Fish Robe, and official seals. Yet since taking command, Ding had deeply disappointed him.

Not only was the bandit-suppression campaign progressing slowly, but the Ge and Zuo bandits had shifted their operations across several provinces, drawing swarms of starving refugees and growing ever more formidable, leaving the Ming army utterly exhausted. Most notably, not long ago, Zuo Liangyu had disobeyed orders and fled to Xiangyang under cover of night; the bandit forces pursued for two hundred li, inflicting heavy casualties on the Ming troops.

This was not the first time Zuo Liangyu had fled without authorization, yet the Chongzhen Emperor had no recourse with these military men other than to order them to redeem themselves through meritorious service.

Fortunately, compared to Zhang Xianzhong and Li Zicheng, men like Luo Rucai did not yet pose a mortal threat in his eyes. Irritably, he picked up another memorial.

This was a memorial sent by Henan Provincial Governor Li Vanguard Commander. Before even reading it, the Chongzhen Emperor's brow was already furrowed. Since summer had turned to autumn, the various prefectures of Henan had suffered continuous severe drought, leaving a thousand li of barren land and starving refugees rising everywhere. Memorials from Henan never brought good news.

Though mentally prepared, upon reading the contents of the memorial, the Chongzhen Emperor nearly leapt to his feet. "Did the Chuang bandits not retreat into the mountains with only a remnant of defeated troops? Why are they suddenly advancing on Luoyang?"

His hands trembled. "And — and they number over a hundred thousand?"

He stood frozen for a long moment, then erupted in furious rage. "When did the Chuang bandits emerge from the mountains? How could they have a force of a hundred thousand? No postal reports, no reconnaissance dispatches — Li Vanguard Commander, do you take me for a deaf man? How hateful! How hateful!"

He barked sharply, "Summon Senior Grand Secretary Zhou Yanru and Minister of War Chen Xinjia!"