Chapter 137: The Sweet Satisfaction of Vengeance Achieved

Although the Southern Song army’s combat effectiveness was weak, it still exerted some military pressure on the southern borders of the Jin state, preventing them from withdrawing forces to fight a civil war in the short term.

In the eastern region, the Qilu lands are about to fall into his hands; the central Hebei territory is already under his control. With broad popular support and superior firepower, he can annihilate any invading enemy here.

As for the Jin army in the west, Nie Huaishang and Guo Jing must have already moved out by now.

There are numerous internal sympathizers of the Revolutionary Army in the western prefectures; they should be able to capture them effortlessly.

In four or five months, their new army has already completed its expansion.

The Western Xia liberated zone under Guo Jing can mobilize roughly 300,000 troops, while the Mongolian liberated zone under Nie Huaishang can mobilize 100,000.

At this moment, Hei Zi, now integrated as a member of the Revolutionary Army, marched cheerfully alongside his comrades, humming a song.

If his former self from half a year ago had seen him like this and learned what he was about to do, he would have found it unbelievable—just as his present self cannot understand the actions he and his neighbors once took.

He couldn’t understand why he had once fought for slave owners, killed people, robbed, and set fires—he had done plenty of evil deeds, yet the stolen money ended up in the masters’ pockets.

The conquered lands became pastures for the masters; whenever a master deigned to bestow a trivial gift, they would kneel and kowtow, thanking him for his benevolence and mercy, convinced their efforts had not been in vain.

This behavior was like a starving stray dog in a poor region: even if no one fed it, it would lick up human feces and think it delicious.

But would a dog that had tasted good meat find feces delicious? Hei Zi had never seen a nobleman’s dog eat feces.

It was as if, after living under the People’s Government for only half a month, he feared Guo Standing Committee Member would leave.

I remember many Western Xia people loudly demanding to crown Guo Standing Committee Member as King of Western Xia, only to be taken away by police for re-education for over ten days.

When they learned Guo Standing Committee Member had no intention of becoming King of Western Xia, he and his neighbors were heartbroken for a long time—after all, from birth until now, their king had never let them eat full meals for more than ten consecutive days. According to the village’s only surviving septuagenarian, he had never eaten full meals for so many days since he was born.

When he was young and still healthy, soldiers were only given full meals before being sent on suicide missions; the officers would feed them well before sending them to die. The men who marched with him for that meal never returned.

Only he survived, lucky enough to remain in the army until his sixties before returning home—only to find himself alone. His son, mother, and wife had all died under the crushing weight of taxes.

I remember when the Revolutionary Army first entered the village and opened the granaries to distribute grain, the old man specially carried a sack of grain to place before his family’s graves. That night, the usually silent old man spoke endlessly, recounting stories from his youth at home.

Finally, the old man wept for a long time before their graves, saying, “If only Guo Standing Committee Member had been born a few decades earlier—he would have become our King of Western Xia, and my family wouldn’t have starved to death. They could have eaten full meals every day. My son would have married, and I could have played with my grandson.”

I remember when the people from nearby villages loudly demanded Guo Standing Committee Member stay as King of Western Xia and were arrested, the old man fainted from rage. He took a long time to recover; the first words out of his mouth upon waking were: “Boys, I’m going to kill those monks locked in prison today. Guo Standing Committee Member must be afraid they’ll oppose him—that’s why he won’t stay.”

The old man was old, had lived enough, and had lost his family. Today, he would sacrifice his life to leave the younger generation a cleaner world.

They inwardly revered the monks, believing these men controlled their afterlife and the family into which they would be reborn—they dared not offend them.

But the old man wasn’t afraid. In his youth, to honor the gods, he had given his bride’s first night to a monk—yet his life had been one of hardship and poverty, and he had failed to protect his family.

He believed the monks were fooling these ignorant fools. His words resonated with the bolder young men in the village; that very day, several of them signed their names in blood and went to kill the monks imprisoned in the jail.

Unfortunately, they were discovered by alert Revolutionary Army soldiers during their infiltration, and the mission failed. The Public Security Bureau chief who interrogated them laughed and cried as he said: “You fellows, just relax. Guo Standing Committee Member doesn’t plan to become King of Western Xia—but that doesn’t mean he’s leaving.”

“If Guo Standing Committee Member isn’t our king, why would he stay here?” they asked, baffled.

“A king rules over you, exploits and oppresses you; his government exists to serve him. But Guo Standing Committee Member wants to build a government where the people like you rule themselves—where you decide your own fate,” the interrogating chief patiently explained.

Though they didn’t understand what “the people ruling themselves” meant, they were still delighted to hear Guo Standing Committee Member wouldn’t leave.

Since their actions caused no damage and served as an excellent propaganda piece showing the Western Xia people’s yearning for the People’s Government, they were detained for only a few days before being released.

After their release, they felt more comfortable than ever. During those days, the police who guarded them told them many things: in simple terms, they were now the masters of the country.

They could walk with their heads high, no longer required to kneel before officials—because officials were not their “parent-officials,” but public servants serving the broad masses of laboring people.

After their release, their lives improved rapidly. First, the Revolutionary Army launched a vigorous land reform, distributing the lands, livestock, and grain seized from monks and bureaucrats to them.

They now had land, cattle, sheep, and grain. Most satisfying of all were the struggle sessions, where the poor wretches who once had to kowtow before their masters could now point at their noses and curse them.

For these oppressors—the local tyrants and evil gentry, the demons and monsters—not only must they be publicly denounced, they must be overthrown. Those who had oppressed the people were sentenced according to law; those who had taken lives were executed immediately. Monks who had used religion to claim a woman’s virginity received life imprisonment, with possible sentence reductions based on later conduct.

Groups of three or more were considered aggravated and immediately sentenced to death. Remember, monks in Western Xia held extremely high status—even the first night of a prince’s wife belonged to them.

Groups of fewer than three were almost nonexistent; officials and tyrants without blood on their hands had virtually vanished. This decree meant the Revolutionary Army would execute countless heads—nearly all adult members of Western Xia’s ruling class, and even some underage ones, faced death.

For a time, heads rolled across Western Xia—but the common people felt no fear or tension. Instead, they felt the sweet satisfaction of vengeance fulfilled.