Chapter 47: Drilling Troops

The next day Zhou Shixiang overslept. Lin Wan'er didn't dare wake him, and by the time he got up the sun was already high in the sky. After hurriedly eating a few mouthfuls of the congee Lin Wan'er had cooked, Zhou Shixiang rushed out the door.

The men who had gone to the stronghold to haul grain had returned. They brought back two cartloads of grain in all, less than twenty dan altogether.

They had also hauled back all the goods and valuables Boss Hu and his men had looted before — silk and satin, gold and silver jewelry and other such hard currency, plus two hemp sacks of coarse salt, half a sack of tobacco leaves, a sack of oil seeds, half a pig already made into cured meat, two sheep they hadn't had time to slaughter, and quite a few jars and pots.

There were even a few women's undergarments — whether they'd been stripped straight off someone's body or some fetishist had casually brought them along, no one knew.

In short, it was a jumble of everything, looking just like the stalls at a rural market in later ages — a dazzling array.

Looking at the several fellows panting from exhaustion yet wearing expressions of utter accomplishment, Zhou Shixiang truly couldn't bring himself to scold them for messing around and bringing back useless things, but he also couldn't praise them for a job well done.

He had no patience for inventorying this "stolen loot," so he sent someone to invite Song Xianggong over, then pulled the lead man aside to ask about the women. The answer he got was that they had all left.

Left?

Zhou Shixiang was taken aback. Only then did he remember that he himself had told those women to leave the stronghold. His mind at once relaxed: those women had been abducted into the stronghold by Boss Hu and his men in the first place; given the chance to leave, they naturally wouldn't stay.

He then asked whether the little mute girl had left too. Upon receiving an affirmative answer, Zhou Shixiang sighed.

He felt somewhat disappointed and somewhat worried: the girl was still young, and he didn't know whether she had any family left in this world. If she had no family, where could she go?

In this chaos of war, how could a little girl like her survive on her own?

With this worry on his mind, when Song Xianggong brought men over to take receipt of the grain, Zhou Shixiang asked him about the little mute girl's specific situation, wanting to know whether the girl still had a home to return to.

"That girl was picked up halfway back when we fled from Xinhui last year.

She was already mute then, covered in blood, and didn't know anything when we asked her. I'd guess her family met with soldiers, and the little thing escaped alone.

Boss Hu took pity on her and told her to follow the group, to be used as a little maidservant day to day."

Song Xianggong knew Zhou Shixiang was worried about the little mute girl, but what he knew amounted to no more than this, and he truly couldn't help Zhou Shixiang.

Zhou Shixiang frowned. "So you're saying this girl has no family left in the world?"

Song Xianggong shook his head. "If she had family, we wouldn't have brought her back to the stronghold last year — we'd have sent her straight home. She's such a young girl; the brothers aren't beasts. How could they defile her?"

"Then where would she go?" Zhou Shixiang grew even more worried about the little mute girl.

"The women in the stronghold treated her well ordinarily; presumably she left together with them."

Seeing the worry on Zhou Shixiang's face, Song Xianggong also sighed lightly, then advised him: "Enough. I know you can't bear to part with the little girl, but right now we can barely look after ourselves.

Even if you had her brought back, what then? You'd have a girl follow a bunch of us men her whole life?

If she's gone, she's gone. Perhaps some household will take her in, and after a couple more years a match can be arranged and she can marry.

That life would surely be better than following us."

Since Song Xianggong put it that way, Zhou Shixiang thought it over and found it reasonable, so he set the matter aside and instead asked him: "Have Qi Yuantai and the others delivered the remaining grain?"

"Lu Changyuan just came back with word that it'll arrive within an hour."

As Song Xianggong spoke, he directed the men to unload the grain, then took up the account book and recorded it in the register. Zhou Shixiang couldn't help at the side, so he went to find Boss Hu.

The entire area near the east gate had been designated by Song Xianggong as the Taiping Camp's encampment. The rear camp, where the old, weak, women, and children were housed, took up most of the buildings.

The place where tents had originally been pitched was set aside as the drill ground. At the moment, Boss Hu was drilling troops with Ge Wu, Zhao Sihai, and the others.

"Brother Zhou's here!"

Seeing Zhou Shixiang, Boss Hu broke into a hearty smile, stepped forward and clapped him on the shoulder, teasing him: "Did you sleep well last night?"

Ge Wu also wore a lewd grin. "Was the Lin family's daughter a fine pleasure? Tsk tsk, the number one beauty in Luoding. If the big brother and Mister Song hadn't assigned her to Brother Zhou, the brothers would've liked a bit of fun too."

"Ahem..."

Zhou Shixiang laughed it off and didn't discuss the matter with them. He asked Boss Hu how the drilling of these troops was going.

When it came to serious business, Boss Hu pulled Zhou Shixiang up onto the city wall, then signaled Zhao Sihai, Baldy, and the others below to drill for Zhou Shixiang to watch.

The drilling by Zhao Sihai, Baldy, and the others was exactly what Zhou Shixiang had expected, with typical characteristics of the era. Each squad leader held either a whip or a wooden club, and the moment a new recruit failed to follow their shouted orders, he was beaten on the spot.

Yet toward these beatings, the recruits — civilians only yesterday — showed no discontent whatsoever. Not a trace of resentment could be seen on their faces; instead, they trained with exceptional diligence.

Some recruits were tall and big, stronger than their squad leaders and file commanders, yet after being beaten they still wore ingratiating smiles, not daring to show the slightest dissatisfaction.

This was the difference between men who had taken up blades and killed and men who had not. Zhou Shixiang only needed a few glances to understand why it was so.

In essence, these soldiers were still ordinary men. When ordinary men faced fierce men, even if the other side's numbers were pitifully small compared to theirs, they would habitually submit rather than rise up in resistance.

This was also a deep-rooted flaw in the Han national character.

Put nicely, it was called being law-abiding and unwilling to cause trouble; put bluntly, it was cowardice and timidity, innate weakness, always hoping someone else would step forward while they themselves stood by as spectators, content only to enjoy the fruits of others' labor and unwilling to strive with their own hands.

Even when their own kin suffered injustice, they would hope for others' help rather than step forward themselves to seek justice for their kin.

Such a mentality naturally led to countless tragedies in Han history — for instance, a few Hu barbarians or Qing soldiers (Japanese pirates) daring to chase down over a thousand people, a few dozen foreigners daring to slaughter hundreds or thousands of Han, while not one Han dared resist, all waiting for others to resist, with the result that all were killed.

The root cause of this phenomenon lay in the fact that the Han martial spirit had been artificially castrated and severed by the rulers of successive dynasties, because what rulers needed was precisely this kind of docile subject, not brave men who would draw their swords to right a wrong they witnessed.

Whether this compliant national character was good or bad, Zhou Shixiang did not dare judge on his own. At the very least, when there was a strong leader, the Han would erupt with tremendous power, power that could crush any enemy.

And for him, these were precisely the kind of people he needed, not brave men who would resist injustice at any moment.

The simple fact was that if every recruit on the drill ground below dared to resent and resist the officers' beatings, then there would be no point recruiting these troops, much less drilling them — drilling would be useless. Obedience was the first principle of an army.

What battle could an army that disobeyed orders possibly fight!

The drill was very simple. The file commander held a small flag: raised upward meant advance, pointed downward meant halt, waved crosswise meant run.

Apart from this, there were no other movements at all — not even thrusting, slashing, or stabbing were trained. This actually surprised Zhou Shixiang somewhat.

He had assumed that Boss Hu and the others' drilling, apart from beating and cursing, consisted of having the soldiers stand there with swords and spears, shouting and yelling.

Seeing the puzzlement on Zhou Shixiang's face, Boss Hu couldn't help but laugh. "Does Brother Zhou think this looks like child's play?"

Zhou Shixiang said nothing. He was considering what purpose there was in drilling only these three movements.

Boss Hu, however, had already begun explaining. He said: "Your old brother here served in the army for a few years back in the day, so I know how to drill troops.

Brother Zhou also said it himself — what we need now is for these soldiers to obey us. So I have them drill just these three movements: forward when told to go forward, halt when told to halt, run when told to run.

As long as they can read the flags and act according to the flags, that's enough. As for the rest — heh, there's really no need to drill it.

Even if we drilled it, trained them for ten days, half a month, even half a year, once they're on the battlefield they'd still be useless."

"Why is that?"

Zhou Shixiang was astonished. In his previous life, three months of recruit training was enough to send men to the battlefield. Why did Boss Hu say these men below couldn't take the field even after half a year of training?

"Soldiers are forged by real blades and real spears, not by drilling fancy forms.

Back when the old prince drilled troops, he couldn't be bothered to have soldiers tie up wooden posts and hack and stab at them. Instead, he'd grab prisoners and condemned men and have the soldiers step right up and stab them.

Don't get me wrong — it was harsh, but once a soldier got blood on his hands, he wouldn't fear the battlefield later, and he wouldn't faint at the sight of blood. Roll around in a pile of corpses a few times and he's a veteran, every last one of them elite!"

Boss Hu grew animated talking about the old days.

"Take me, for instance.

Back then I didn't understand anything either. I joined the army relying on a bit of martial skill, and in the army I truly knew nothing.

The officers didn't teach us anything either. When battle came, the cannons roared, and we charged forward with our blades.

If you weren't blown up, you were lucky; if you were, you deserved it. Once we closed with the enemy, we followed the veterans in everything.

When the veterans rolled, we rolled. When the veterans slashed, we slashed.

When the veterans ran, we ran. After a few rounds of that, I became a veteran too, and then the old prince picked me out for his personal guard.

So you see, soldiers aren't drilled — they're forged by real blades and real spears. Even a fool, after seeing battle a few times, knows how to save his own skin and how to kill."

Boss Hu's words left Zhou Shixiang dumbfounded. What kind of army was this?

It suddenly occurred to him that Li Chengdong had apparently once been a subordinate of Gao Jie, and Gao Jie had come from Li Zicheng's peasant army. Connecting the dots, he understood: so Li Chengdong's army still used the methods of the old roving bandits.

Why could his soldiers fight? Because every one of them had truly crawled back from the brink of death — it would be strange if they couldn't fight!

It was a pity that Li Chengdong had ultimately met defeat and death, which proved that his methods worked against Ming armies weaker than his own but were useless against Qing armies stronger than his.

Or rather, armies of this era weren't competing over who was stronger or better organized, but over who was more worthless.

Roving bandits it is, then. Zhou Shixiang couldn't count on these recruits for the moment anyway; as long as they obeyed, that was enough.

After watching a while longer, he proposed to Boss Hu that they send men to Deqing to scout the Qing army's movements. If the Qing army in Deqing really did move out, how should this battle be fought, and how could they fight it to win?