Chapter 90: Intelligence

All the arrangements for the whole camp's transfer were carried out at a furious pace over the next six days.

It was not that no rumors were spreading through the camp — word had it that the Taiping Camp was loading all its money and grain onto carts because those officers were preparing to flee with the wealth and goods, and had no intention of fighting the Tartars at all, while the old, weak, women, and children who had thrown in their lot with the Taiping Camp would be left behind for the Qing army to ravage.

The rumors spread suddenly, without warning, yet they were entirely plausible — after all, what the Taiping Camp was doing now truly looked no different from fleeing. Otherwise, why load everything onto carts?

In response to the rumors, Zhou Shixiang quickly ordered the forward camp to tighten military control over the whole city, strictly forbidding all sorts of people from spreading such rumors within the camp, while also strictly forbidding the women and children of the various camps from wandering back and forth between them, and he laid down an iron law — death to rumor-mongers!

Under the Taiping Camp's heavy-handed suppression, the rumors were quickly contained. Beneath the near-brutally strict iron law that "death to rumor-mongers" applied equally to those who spread rumors, no one dared lightly risk his head to test whether this iron law was real.

The common people are blind, but they are likewise obedient. Without forceful suppression, rumors can produce the most terrifying consequences, yet in the face of force, rumors can do nothing at all.

Time is the natural enemy of rumors; as time passes, rumors will collapse on their own. Until then, it is enough simply to tighten control.

In order to strike at the rumor-mongers, Zhou Shixiang even issued a secret-informer system: if anyone secretly reported that someone was fabricating rumors or spreading them, that person could receive a reward.

This system was also a double-edged sword — used well, it could effectively strike at those disgruntled rumor-mongers; used badly, it could easily turn soldiers and civilians against one another.

But for the present, there was no need to worry about whether the benefits outweighed the drawbacks; they were still far from the point of weighing such a system's pros and cons. To worry about that now would truly be meddling in other people's business.

Song Xianggong, run ragged with work, did not forget to send men to secretly investigate who was spreading the rumors.

Unfortunately, the rear camp held nearly ten thousand old, weak, women, and children, and the men he sent out on the secret investigation were only those former yamen clerks willing to serve the Taiping Camp.

These fellows were fine for running errands and handling routine duties, but setting them to the work of prying and spying was truly asking too much of them.

After two or three days of investigation, apart from arresting a few women and children who had believed the rumors and secretly repeated them to others, not a single true rumor-monger was caught. With nothing found, the matter could only be left unresolved.

Afterward, Song Xianggong remarked with some feeling that if the Taiping Camp possessed a force like the Great Ming's Embroidered Uniform Guard or the Eastern Depot's agents, then no matter how those rumor-mongers disguised themselves or hid themselves, before the agents they would have nowhere to hide.

For if one wishes no one to know, one must simply not do it; once a hand is stretched out or a mouth is opened, there are bound to be traces to be found!

Song Xianggong's remark in turn reminded Zhou Shixiang that all along he had been busy with the building of the army and the governance of the people, yet he had made not a single move in the work of intelligence.

Intelligence is like a man's two eyes. With intelligence in hand, whether military affairs or civilian affairs, one can see everything as clearly as watching a fire; without intelligence, one is like a blind man feeling an elephant.

Take the matter of the rumors arising in the camp: with dedicated intelligence personnel handling it, it would naturally be resolved with ease, but send amateurs to do it, and they are groping in the dark, not knowing who is who or where to begin.

This journey to Xiangshan was nearly a thousand li, and more than half the route lay through enemy-occupied territory.

There had to be a dedicated intelligence force, something like the Embroidered Uniform Guard, responsible for probing enemy conditions; otherwise the Taiping Camp would be passive at every turn.

Of course, the Embroidered Uniform Guard was the personal army of the Great Ming Emperor, so Zhou Shixiang, with his self-appointed rank of battalion commander, certainly could not use it.

The Eastern Depot agents had an unsavory reputation, and compared with the Embroidered Uniform Guard, they were even less something a subject could make use of. Naturally, then, the Military Intelligence Bureau came into being.

The Military Intelligence Bureau had come into being, but who was to take charge of this department? Looking across the whole camp, there was basically not a single person fit for the heavy responsibility of the Military Intelligence Bureau.

Left with no choice, at Song Xianggong's suggestion, Zhou Shixiang handed the Military Intelligence Bureau over to Zhang An. Song Xianggong's reason for recommending Short-Legs An was that the fellow was quick-witted and also a smooth talker.

Quick wits were indeed an essential quality for intelligence personnel, but being a smooth talker seemed somewhat beside the point. Yet there was truly no one else available, and Zhou Shixiang could not personally take up the post of intelligence chief himself.

With no alternative, he could only let Zhang An assume the office.

When the utterly baffled Zhang An was summoned over, he had no idea at all what the Military Intelligence Bureau did. Zhou Shixiang could only give him a rough account of the work done by the Embroidered Uniform Guard and the Eastern Depot agents.

To his surprise, after hearing it, the other man shook his head like a rattle-drum and said that he, Zhang An, was a fine upstanding fellow — how could he do the filthy work of those agents? No, absolutely not!

If he had simply refused, that would have been one thing, but he went on at length about how the Embroidered Uniform Guard had tormented the common people in years past, and how the Eastern Depot agents had borrowed the tiger's might to bully the good folk below while deceiving the Son of Heaven above — and all of it with such gnashing of teeth that one would think he, Zhang An, had personally experienced it and seen it with his own eyes.

Had Zhou Shixiang not thought it over — this was now the eighth year of Yongli, already twelve years since the Qing army had entered the pass, and as soon as Chongzhen took the throne he had abolished the Eastern Depot and gelded the Embroidered Uniform Guard down to the size of a chicken.

Throughout Chongzhen's seventeen-year reign, the might of the depot and guard had simply not existed.

Reckoning it up, that was twenty-nine years, and Zhang An was only twenty-eight this year — where could he have experienced the evil of the depot and guard, and where could he have heard of their wickedness?

Song Xianggong, after all, had seen the world. In response to Zhang An's words, he muttered beside him, "Had the depot and guard not both been abolished, the Filial and Stern Emperor might not have hanged himself."

The Filial and Stern Emperor was, of course, the Chongzhen Emperor.

"Filial and Stern" was the posthumous title conferred by the Hongguang court, and the Qing court had also conferred one, though theirs called him "Solemn and Stern."

At present, although the Qing court had seized more than half the realm, the Southern Ming still existed, so in the south people still addressed this resolute emperor as the Filial and Stern Emperor.

What direct connection there was between the Filial and Stern Emperor's death and the abolition of the depot and guard, Zhou Shixiang did not care to ask. He was no historian and did not want to sort out the cause and effect in between.

All he knew was that he had to make this fellow Zhang An take up the post; otherwise the Military Intelligence Bureau would be dead the moment it was born.

Under Zhou Shixiang's scolding, Zhang An, with ten thousand unwillingnesses, accepted the "heavy responsibility" of Military Intelligence Bureau commissioner.

The first task he received upon taking office was to go at once to Deqing and, no matter how much silver it cost, to find out the garrison strength of the Qing army in the two prefectures of Zhaoqing and Guangzhou.

At the same time, he was to find ways to make contact with secret anti-Qing figures lying low in the two prefectures, so as to win their help when the Taiping Camp passed through.

Zhou Shixiang gave Zhang An very broad authority — in the language of this age, it was called "acting as circumstances dictate."

"This subordinate previously thought it was the filthy work of the agents, but it turns out the battalion commander has assigned me a matter of such importance. Rest assured, Battalion Commander, this subordinate will go to Deqing at once!"

Upon hearing Zhou Shixiang's instructions, Zhang An's attitude changed immediately — yet when Zhou Shixiang signaled that he could leave, he stood there hemming and hawing, unwilling to go.

Zhou Shixiang found this a little strange and asked him, "Is there something else?"

"This subordinate..."

Zhang An gave an embarrassed laugh.

"This subordinate does not know where his subordinates are.

Since this subordinate is to go to Deqing, I beg the battalion commander to hand the men over to me, so that this subordinate may have some helpers. Otherwise, how is this subordinate alone to handle so many matters?"

"I have no men." Zhou Shixiang spread his hands. "You are the Military Intelligence Bureau commissioner. Whatever sort of subordinates you want, go find them yourself. In any case, I have no one to assign you."

At these words, Zhang An was instantly dumbfounded. "So you mean this subordinate is a bare-pole commissioner?"

"Everything is hard at the start. Our Taiping Camp is now in its founding stage, and everywhere is short of hands. The work of the Military Intelligence Bureau is not something ordinary men can do — you must find your own people."

"If the battalion commander sends no men, where is this subordinate to find people?"

"Go look in the rear camp.

As long as a man is quick-witted, that will do. Oh, right — his appearance must not be too conspicuous; the plainer the better."

Having said this, Zhou Shixiang did not forget to greet Song Xianggong, who actually ran the rear camp.

"Sir, please give the Military Intelligence Bureau some convenience on your side.

Anyone Zhang An picks, transfer them into the Military Intelligence Bureau, and please also prepare all their expenses."

Song Xianggong smiled faintly and nodded. "That goes without saying."

Turning his head and seeing Zhang An still standing there foolishly, Zhou Shixiang could not help urging him, "What are you still standing there for? Hurry up and find some helpers. Do you really mean to build up the Military Intelligence Bureau all by yourself?"

"I... I... I..."

Zhang An stammered out three "I"s in a row. Seeing that Zhou Shixiang truly had no men to assign him, he could only sigh helplessly, salute, turn, and go out to scout for his subordinates.

Watching Zhang An's receding figure, Zhou Shixiang felt a twinge of guilt.

The Military Intelligence Bureau was such an important institution, yet he could not help Zhang An set up its framework, and with a single sentence had sent the man off; whether it lived or died from now on would depend entirely on the man's own luck.

Thinking of it that way, it did seem a little too heartless. But what could he do if he were not a little heartless?

The Taiping Camp had so many people from top to bottom, yet there were only a handful of usable talents, and even fewer suited to intelligence work. He himself could not split himself in two — if he did not lay the heavy burden on Zhang An, on whom could he lay it?

He could only hope that Short-Legs An would make him look at him with new eyes. Zhou Shixiang sighed softly in resignation.