Chapter 125: A Lad of Fifteen or Twenty

The final outcome left Chongzhen very satisfied. Whether it was because this squad leader was sharp enough, or because he truly feared the strictness of military law, in any case, Wang Cheng'en failed to enter the camp gate and was instead blocked outside.

This gave Chongzhen the feeling that he finally had a glimpse of what a proper army should look like.

Chongzhen was not the only one pleased — even Zhang Weixian, seeing this, clicked his tongue in praise and said to Chongzhen, "Your Majesty, though Liu Xingzuo's name is not widely known, he is clearly a man who runs a tight command.

This New Army camp rather has the air of the Thin Willow Camp about it."

Hearing this, Chongzhen nodded and said, "Indeed. Daring to stand firm and refuse Wang Cheng'en entry first — no matter how you look at it, he has passed this first test."

Zhang Weixian, hearing this, asked, "Is Your Majesty quite fond of the troop-discipline methods of the Thin Willow Camp from the Former Han?"

What did Chongzhen know about the Thin Willow Camp's troop-discipline methods? All he knew was that the Thin Willow Camp had dared to leave the emperor cooling his heels outside the camp gate, and that their military regulations were ironclad.

Hearing Zhang Weixian's question, Chongzhen simply laughed it off and prepared to smuggle in some private goods from later ages, laying them out for Zhang Weixian first: "We hold that the smallest merit must be recorded, and the smallest fault must be punished.

Once an order to advance is given, even if the road ahead is a mountain of blades and a sea of fire, they must press forward.

Once an order to retreat is given, even if the road ahead holds heaven-sent merit and mountains of gold and silver, they must not take a single step forward — they must fall back. The brave may not advance alone, and the cowardly may not retreat alone.

Therefore, running an army must be strict. Military law and military discipline must never be relaxed at any time!"

Zhang Weixian, hearing this, offered flattery: "What Your Majesty says is profoundly correct. If military discipline is not strict, then orders will not flow. If orders do not flow, then the troops will not act. If the troops do not act, then the enterprise fails."

Chongzhen said, "Precisely so. That the state of Wu could become hegemon of the Spring and Autumn period — Sun Tzu's contribution was indispensable.

Had Sun Tzu not, after reiterating his commands three and then five times, executed the king's concubines to forge the troops, Wu, far from becoming hegemon, would have been lucky not to be destroyed by others."

Having spoken, he lightly kicked his horse's belly, gave a soft shout of "Hya!," and rode on ahead toward the New Army camp.

Behind Chongzhen, Fang Zhenghua, dressed in full eunuch regalia yet cutting a tall and powerfully fierce figure, followed close behind Chongzhen toward the camp gate. The only one left trailing behind was Zhang Weixian alone.

By this point, Zhang Weixian had more or less grasped Chongzhen's thinking — one word: strict. Like the dynasty's own Qi Jiguang, running the army with severity.

Merit always rewarded, fault always punished. Seen this way, the Chongzhen Emperor truly understood military affairs, just like the dynasty's founding Hongwu Emperor and the Yongle Emperor, who became an ancestor.

From this angle, if Chongzhen were like the Yongle Emperor, always itching to go on northern campaigns against the steppe whenever he had a moment, then the day when their own noble houses and martial clans would rise again was right before their eyes.

As for those civil officials? Ever since the Tumu Crisis, the status of the martial clans and noble houses had plummeted, used like dogs by the civil officials — they had long been seething with discontent!

Sneering inwardly, Zhang Weixian made up his mind: once he returned, he would first seek out the current dynasty's nobles for a chat, see who could be won over and who had thrown in with the civil officials.

At worst, he could use His Majesty's Depot and Guard to make trouble for them — presumably His Majesty would be willing. When the time came, his own ducal title could not be raised any higher, but would not the other sons and younger kinsmen of the clan then have a path forward?

Anything was better than eating themselves to death in idleness!

His mind made up, Zhang Weixian likewise kicked his horse's belly and followed close behind Chongzhen, riding toward the New Army's camp gate.

By the time Chongzhen, Zhang Weixian, and Fang Zhenghua reached the New Army camp gate, Liu Xingzuo, having received word, had also arrived before the gate.

Wang Cheng'en, who just moments ago had kept a deadpan face, saw that Chongzhen had arrived and hurriedly tugged the reins, wheeling his horse in a small circle to circle back behind Chongzhen.

The several New Army soldiers who had just been leveling their firelocks at Wang Cheng'en hurriedly lowered their muzzles and moved their hands away from the flintlock mechanisms.

Liu Xingzuo strode quickly forward, dropped to one knee, and declared, "Your subordinate Liu Xingzuo respectfully greets His Majesty the Emperor — ten thousand years!"

Chongzhen dismounted cleanly and sharply, made a gesture of raising Liu Xingzuo up, and said, "Rise, quickly, rise!"

Once Liu Xingzuo had risen, Chongzhen then said, "We have come today precisely to see how this New Army has turned out. Minister Liu, are you willing to take Us for a look?"

Liu Xingzuo bowed and said, "I invite Your Majesty to enter the camp." Having spoken, he stepped back, turned around, and led Chongzhen toward the command platform within the camp.

Along the way, Chongzhen watched the soldiers all hurrying toward the parade ground. Though they were all quite rushed, there was no sign of disorder, and he inwardly nodded in approval.

By the time they reached the command platform, the entire New Army, over three thousand men, had all assembled before the platform.

It is often said that once men pass ten thousand, they stretch boundless and endless.

In truth, with over three thousand men gathered on a single parade ground, though it might not produce that sense of boundlessness, the dark mass of heads, combined with every man fully equipped, exerted a psychological pressure far greater than thirty thousand men scattered loosely in one place.

Once the routine drill maneuvers were complete, Chongzhen nodded.

The entire battle formation, in its advances and retreats, though still not matching those bumpkins from the rabbit family of his past life — who, whether viewed horizontally, vertically, or diagonally, moved as a single man — had clearly made much more progress compared to the previous military review.

Liu Xingzuo had clearly put real thought into running the troops.

Quite satisfied inwardly, Chongzhen then said to Liu Xingzuo, "Very good. It seems Minister Liu has put real effort into military discipline."

Liu Xingzuo bowed and said, "Your Majesty overpraises me; I am unworthy of such praise."

Chongzhen feigned displeasure and said, "What is there to be unworthy of? Merit is merit, fault is fault. We do not care for empty formalities."

Having spoken, he no longer looked at Liu Xingzuo but instead turned his gaze to the soldiers below the platform.

After a round of drill maneuvers, it would be a lie to say the soldiers were not tired at all. Looking at the faintly sweating faces below the platform, each around twenty years old, Chongzhen spoke: "Are you tired?!"

The soldiers below the platform looked at one another for a moment, then some answered, "Not tired!" Others shouted, "Answering Your Majesty, not tired!" Gradually, the voices grew uniform, all shouting, "Not tired! Not tired!"

Chongzhen raised his hand, then pressed it downward. Once the soldiers had all fallen silent, Chongzhen then opened his mouth and spat out two words: "Bullshit!"

These two exceedingly coarse words, coming from the mouth of the reigning emperor — not only did the three thousand soldiers below the platform dare not believe it, but even Zhang Weixian and Liu Xingzuo could not believe an emperor could say such a thing.

Zhang Weixian knew that ordinarily Chongzhen always had a book in hand. Never mind whether he was reading the Spring and Autumn Annals or something else — for two words like that to burst from the mouth of a book-loving emperor was enough to utterly shatter a man's entire worldview.

Wang Cheng'en and Fang Zhenghua, however, looked entirely unsurprised.

Never mind the emperor's skill at shrewish street-cursing when the Jianzhou barbarians had besieged the capital — even within the palace, when no one else was around, did not this imperial lord frequently let slip words like "son of a bitch" and "your mother's cunt"?

Though they did not understand the meaning, they assumed they were nothing good.

Had a meeting at work today, so the update is late. But there will be another update shortly.

Daily book recommendation: "The Great Song's Bizarre God of War" — Qin Feng transmigrates to the late Northern Song, shifts from civil to military, surrounded by an endless stream of peerless beauties and multiple wives and concubines, becomes a god of war, and in ten years destroys the Jin kingdom, makes Western Xia and the Mongols bow as vassals, then the Qin state emerges and dominates the world, the whole world becoming Great Qin's territory.

(End of Chapter)