Chapter 784: Three Strategies

The Xiangyang Prince’s mansion lay in the southeastern part of the city, rebuilt from the former Xiangyang Guard headquarters. In the great hall, Li Zicheng sat upright. Not yet forty, his string of victories lent his every gesture an air of greater authority.

His dress remained plain — a blue riding tunic, a white felt hat, a treasured sword at his waist, and a cloak thrown over his shoulders. The fabric of his clothes was quite worn. Of course, Li Zicheng himself had not changed, but his subordinates were already quietly transforming.

Including the officers of the Five Battalions, the various regional Defense Commissioners, Prefects, and Defense Generals — in just a few short months, signs of corruption had gradually begun to appear.

It was much like the egalitarianism of the later Taiping Heavenly Kingdom: ordinary soldiers strictly adhered to the system, but officers at every level, those with power in their hands, deliberately seized wealth, ultimately destroying that egalitarian system.

Corruption and the seizure of civilian property were one part of it. There was also the Chuang camp’s strict prohibition against soldiers harassing the local populace — rules forbidding murder, forbidding the slaughter of cattle, and so on — which were being undermined by the various regional garrison commanders.

The loopholes in such military regulations were far too easy to exploit. You forbid murder? Can I not pin a charge of secretly colluding with Ming officials on him? Can I not pin a charge of attempting to flee on him?

A supervisory system is an exceedingly complex structure. Those Chuang soldiers could not read a single character. When faced with such complicated legal matters, could they only resort to killing? Moreover, who should do the supervising, and how to supervise, were also problems.

Conquering the realm and governing the realm are, after all, different. The Defense Commissioners, Prefects, and Defense Generals under Chuang rule were mostly of famine-refugee or surrendered-soldier origin. These people came from lowly backgrounds; overnight, the daughter-in-law had become the mother-in-law. With power in their hands, thousands feared and bowed before them. What changes would ultimately occur, no one could clearly say.

At present, the literati and gentry who had defected to the Chuang administration were still too few, not enough to spread to every county and prefecture. Even where some defected literati were appointed as Defense Commissioners, Prefects, Department Vice Magistrates, or County Magistrates — never mind the true nature of these surrendered scholar-officials — faced with the Majestic Generals, Commandants, and Brigade Commanders stationed in the same area, what dared they do to these military men who held the power of the sword?

In essence, the Chuang camp still honored martial power above all. The army was the backbone; the rest, the local civil officials, were merely branches and leaves. If things blew up, which side would the Changyi Prefecture protect? More trouble, better to avoid it. Yet even the most good-natured person, given unsupervised power, what changes would occur — one can well imagine.

The conflict between conquering the realm and governing the realm was quietly unfolding within his territory. Faced with this situation, Li Zicheng showed only bewilderment. In essence, he had no ability to govern a state. What he excelled at was roving, fighting Mobile Corps Commander actions, rushing about in campaigns, surviving under encirclement and suppression from all sides.

Li Zicheng was certainly aware of the changes within his domain. His solution was to “get moving” — to lead his officers and men in continued campaigns. Amid danger and hardship, these problems would naturally cease to exist, and he could also distance himself from the myriad civil affairs that gave him splitting headaches.

Like Li Zicheng himself, those with civil administrative ability in the entire Chuang camp were pitifully few. How could a group that was ninety-nine point nine-nine-nine-nine percent illiterate control and guide local civil matters?

Perhaps if you gave them a few dozen mu of land to farm themselves, they could still talk about the ins and outs of it. But to guide others, to take charge of the livelihood, settlement, and economic development of ten thousand, a hundred thousand, a million people under their rule — they would simply stare dumbfounded, at a complete loss.

Thus, the territory under Chuang rule was now in a rare state of “laissez-faire governance.” The authorities announced no tax collection, no grain levies, and the provision of plow oxen and seeds to the poor. As for everything else, they just let things take their course, lacking the capacity to delve any deeper.

The result of this was simply that the localities fell out of control, local power was infiltrated and usurped, and then powerful local magnates grew dominant. And what kind of regime did wealthy magnates hate the most?

Historically, the moment Li Zicheng was destroyed in Beijing, powerful magnates rose up everywhere in his territory, rebellions erupted endlessly, and not a single Prefect or County Magistrate escaped being killed. His vast domain crumbled to dust in the blink of an eye. This was the inevitable outcome for a roving-bandit regime with no ability to govern a state.

Of course, the current situation was only in its infancy. Compared to the outer territories of the Great Ming, the Chuang administration could be considered relatively clean and bright. Yet Li Zicheng harbored a constant sense of dread and decided to get moving.

At this moment, his entire Changyi Prefecture staff was present: the Chancellor Niu Jinxing; the Vice Ministers of the six government boards — Personnel, Revenue, Rites, War, Justice, and Works; and various other attendant officials.

They all wore deep blue official robes with square collars, rank denoted by cloud motifs. Higher-ranking officials also added pheasant plumes to their caps. This was a change first emphasized by Niu Jinxing and others: a new regime must have a new atmosphere, and at the very least, the official robes must differ from those of the Ming court.

Besides these civil officials, there were also the generals of the Five Battalions: such as Quan General Tian Jianxiu and Liu Zongmin; Zhi Generals Liu Fangliang, Yuan Zongdi, Li Guo, and Liu Xiyao; as well as Yang Shaofan, Gao Yigong, Li Yan, Song Xiance, Gu Junen, and others in attendance.

Days earlier, Li Guo and Yang Shaofan had returned, escorting Yuan Shizhong. Li Zicheng was overjoyed to see them. He had Yuan Shizhong executed by lingchi at the Xiangyang marketplace, greatly venting the hatred in his heart, and separately recorded merits for Li Guo and Yang Shaofan.

At this moment, the generals were dressed identically to Li Zicheng — all wearing white felt hats and blue riding tunics. Though they excelled in tactics, strategically they still had to listen to those military advisors and literati.

So everyone merely listened in the hall as Niu Jinxing, Gu Junen, Song Xiance, and others argued fiercely, debating endlessly over the Chuang camp’s next move.

“Great King, your subject requests that we raid and plunder Northern Zhili and Shandong, then strike directly at the capital!”

The speaker was Chancellor Niu Jinxing. He had a long three-part beard and a lean, refined face. Dressed in the Changyi Prefecture official robes, he was brimming with energy and looked even more distinguished. His rank badge bore only a single auspicious cloud, his cap had pheasant plumes, and at his waist was a rhinoceros-horn jade belt — the highest-grade official attire in the Changyi Prefecture.

Although his title of Chancellor made him nominally second only to one man and above all others, the Zhi Generals and even the Guoyi Generals of the Five Battalions could ignore him. Yet on the surface, everyone still had to treat him with courtesy. Having risen from mere Provincial Graduate to this position, Niu Jinxing was in high spirits, and he found this Chancellor role thoroughly enjoyable.

He boldly proposed his own strategy: strike directly at the capital. He believed that with the Chuang camp’s military strength, striking directly at the capital was no longer a problem. Moreover, his selfish desire was to make himself, this Chancellor, the true Chancellor of the entire realm, not merely the Chancellor of a few local prefectures.

After the dynastic change, it would also avoid the unpleasant label of “roving bandits.” What literatus enjoyed bearing the name of “bandit”? Thus, swiftly capturing the capital was Niu Jinxing’s bold proposal.

Yang Yongyu, Vice Minister of the Board of Rites, held a different opinion. Appointed Vice Minister from his surrendered post as a Erudite of the Imperial Observatory, he was a Minister-level figure in the court and equally elated. Also, having lived long in Huguang, he understood the wealth of Huguang and Jiangnan. Therefore, his strategy was to seize the auxiliary capital and cut off the Grand Canal grain transport!

Finally, there was the strategy of Attendant Gu Junen, who vehemently rejected the plans of both Niu Jinxing and Yang Yongyu: “No, no! To first seize the old capital — our position would be downstream, making it difficult to achieve great things. That plan’s flaw is that it is too slow…”

Gu Junen spoke with a faint smile. Like Niu Jinxing, his appearance was beyond reproach, and his voice was particularly rich and deep, quite pleasing to the ear: “…Furthermore, to strike directly at the capital — if by chance we fail, we would have no place to retreat. That plan’s flaw is that it is too rash…”

He flatly rejected the strategies of Niu Jinxing and Yang Yongyu. As their faces changed color, he continued speaking with a calm and composed expression, as if dismissing their plans was merely a commonplace remark.

He slowly laid out his own strategy: “It would be better to first take Guanzhong — the homeland of the Marshal — to establish a state and found a legacy. Then, sweep through the three border regions, capture Shanxi, and afterward advance toward the capital. With room to advance or retreat, this is the complete strategy!”

A cold snort of laughter rang out — whether from Niu Jinxing, Yang Yongyu, or someone else, it was unclear. Yang Yongyu, a smile on his face and ice in his eyes, was the first to question: “May I ask Attendant Gu, in what way is this prefecture’s strategy slow?”

Yang Yongyu spoke with a face full of smiles, his words carrying a hint of reminding Gu Junen of his status: he himself was Vice Minister of the Board of Rites, while Gu was merely a lowly Attendant.

Gu Junen was not flustered. Skilled at reading people, he deeply understood the inner thoughts of the Chuang King and the Chuang camp generals. With a settled plan in mind, he was even more composed. He replied with a slight smile: “The Great Ming’s core lies north of the Yangtze. Not to mention the dense network of rivers in Jiangnan — our army is not skilled in naval warfare. How much time would it take to conquer Jiangnan? In the meantime, what if the court catches its breath? Even if we set aside the worst-case scenario and do conquer Jiangnan, our forces would be positioned downstream. To attack the north from the south — how could that be easy? What Emperor Taizu of Ming accomplished can happen once, but not twice.”

“Balls of a donkey! Jiangnan, Huguang, Jiangxi — none of it’s easy to fight in!”

At this, Liu Zongmin slapped his thigh forcefully and spoke. Never mind whether it was slow or not — the dense river network of Jiangnan had struck a chord deep in Liu Zongmin’s heart.

The battle in the first month still left him with lingering fear. Back then, their Chuang camp’s ten thousand ships had attacked Wuchang. In perfectly fine weather, great waves had suddenly risen on the river. Many of his men had drowned alive, and even he, Liu Zongmin, had nearly perished. Thinking of it, how could one not be terrified?

“Master Liu speaks the truth.”

The Five Battalion generals — Liu Fangliang, Yuan Zongdi, Liu Xiyao, and others — spoke up one after another, their faces all bearing expressions of fear. They had spent years maneuvering on horseback; on the plains, they could pull off all sorts of tricks. But faced with rivers and water networks, they were utterly at a loss.

Regarding that battle in the first month, it was not only Liu Zongmin who still had lingering fear; they too were deeply terrified. That river-crossing battle had frightened them out of their wits. The power of the great wind and waves made them feel their own insignificance.

Never mind whether it was slow or not — with rivers crisscrossing everywhere and travel dependent on boats, how could these northern soldiers bear it? Moreover, the Chuang camp’s power lay in its cavalry. If they went to Jiangnan, they feared they would all be turned into infantry. If they were ever trapped somewhere by government troops, they could cry to heaven and get no answer, cry to earth and get no response — with nowhere even to flee.

Li Zicheng nodded. To be honest, he had no interest in going to some Jiangnan. Huguang was already far enough from home — did they have to run to an even more distant place?

Yang Shaofan remained silent. Li Yan wanted to say something but ultimately kept his mouth shut.

According to his thinking, war was fought with money and grain. Only by holding the wealthy Jiangnan would they have the strength to unify the entire realm. But the generals all objected, and the Grand Marshal of Civil and Military Affairs had no such inclination either. The dense river network of Jiangnan and the Chuang army’s inexperience in naval warfare were also facts.

There was another point Li Yan understood: the military power in Jiangnan was not as domineering as north of the Yangtze; it was still led by civil officials and literati. The basic order still remained. Though the government troops were bad, they were not as bad as Zuo Liangyu and his ilk. Thus, the basis for “suppressing the troops and pacifying the people” was lost.

Moreover, Jiangnan had many powerful magnates, with high walls and deep stockades. Local militias fought hard to defend their homeland. The common people there had somewhat easier lives, so famine refugees were few, and a large army would also lose the basis for a mass uprising in response. Every city and stockade taken would likely require fierce battle. Whether they could actually conquer Jiangnan was indeed unknown.

Situations like Huguang were far too rare — where someone opened the gates at every city they approached, and the fighting was even easier than in Henan and other places. That was the result of Zuo Liangyu’s villainy. In other regions, such ideal conditions were unlikely to exist.

And so Li Yan also fell silent.

Seeing that everyone disagreed with his strategy, Yang Yongyu gritted his teeth in hatred. A thought flashed through his mind: After all, they are roving bandits — difficult to achieve great things with.

He fell silent, a sense of regret in his heart. Observing the conduct of Li Zicheng and the others, their vision was incomparably shortsighted; they did not even understand the importance of Jiangnan. It seemed their defeat and destruction were only a matter of time. As Vice Minister of the Board of Rites, would he be purged when that time came?

The more he thought, the stronger this notion grew, and the deeper his regret became.

PS: Old Bai Niu: Went on a family trip for a few days during the holidays, but all I saw were crowds of people. Won’t go out during holidays again. There isn’t much content left in this book; the focus is on a few larger-scale battles, the final battle, and the trial of war criminals from all sides, etc.

I had hoped to finish the book this month, but updates this month will be somewhat irregular and not daily. As it’s reaching the end, many parts need careful consideration and thought. Daily updates would be a butchering of quality. I am writing to express what’s inside me, not just to put a few words on the page.

The biggest drawback of web fiction, I believe, is the daily update requirement, which turns writing into mere word-churning and writers into typists. Under immense pressure, authors become mechanical and numb, rushing manuscripts for the sake of rushing, often without time to brew, reflect, or revise.

This is not a good thing. Writing was originally something I enjoyed, but it increasingly feels loathsome. I don’t want that. I hope to write in a relaxed, joyful, and passionate state, so that what I love remains loved, and ultimately to write what is in my heart to write.