Chapter 558: Cheap

"I'm a carpenter, and a bricklayer too."

Inside the barracks of the Stone Tablet Martial Studies Branch, two men sat side by side on the outermost bed. Zhou Chen's face was full of spirit, while the man from the Craftsmen Gang spoke with a dull, vacant look in his eyes.

After the two had been conscripted, soldiers took them to record their names, saying they needed to make soldier tags, then brought them to the barracks. A long while passed and no officer came to take charge, much less anyone to manage meals. At least there was a well outside — if they got thirsty, they could draw water and drink on their own.

Zhou Chen wiped the water stains on his chest and looked casually toward the doorway. "I'm a bricklayer too."

The Craftsmen Gang man spat. "What bricklayer are you lot? Your so-called foreman just mixes mortar any which way. Where did you dig up that mud for plastering interior walls? You even dare use thin slurry — think those bricks will stick firm? And you call yourself a bricklayer. I've seen the gable walls you put up — both ends don't even line up straight. A gust of wind could blow the beam crooked. You think laying bricks is just piling them up and you're done? There's skill to it, especially at the window corners. What did you build over at the Cavalryman Yu house? Pick any window and look — a man who knows his corner-cutting lays four window corners, and three of them are uneven. How's the woodworker supposed to fit the window flush afterwards? Don't you know it'll leak air!"

"But we're cheap. Our labor's only half your price."

"What use is cheap if you can't do the job right!"

"And your Craftsmen Gang does it so well?"

"Better than you!" The Craftsmen Gang man glared at him furiously.

Zhou Chen, now inside the battalion, no longer feared the Craftsmen Gang man would chase and beat him. He casually rubbed the dried mortar off his shins. "See, this stuff sticks on tight. I was just scraping by for a few months, planning to join the battalion once they recruited. Never meant to steal your livelihood. What were you chasing me so hard for?"

"If we don't chase you off, you'll go everywhere undercutting prices to snatch work. Then nobody follows any rules, and the landlords get all the benefit for nothing. You were about to join the battalion anyway — why still work as a bricklayer? And you dragged me in here with you!"

"I worked as a bricklayer so I could eat more and bulk up. Otherwise I couldn't get into that Iron Armor Soldiers battalion — the one with three or four taels of silver a month. Once the new recruits finish drilling here, I'm off to the Iron Armor Soldiers."

"Three or four taels isn't much." The Craftsmen Gang man turned his head away and wiped his eyes. "I did two years as an apprentice in Chizhou. Then the Anqing Battalion killed a lot of Roving Thieves at Susong, and word came that Anqing had money all of a sudden. So I followed a new master from my village, crossed the river from Chizhou to come work. You think it was easy? At Shipai, you start from scratch. I worked a year as a face-out bricklayer before my master taught me the face-in work. The gang boss said once we drove you Shandong lot out, he'd have the master teach me window-corner cutting. That's the hard part, you understand? I already knew carpentry — once I learn the corner-cutting work, I can handle a whole wall with windows by myself. Bring a few apprentices and the silver rolls in easy. As long as you outsiders don't come messing up the jobs, it's way more than three or four taels."

The Craftsmen Gang man stared blankly into space as he spoke, his eyes red as if about to cry. Zhou Chen leaned in and asked cautiously, "So how much a month?"

The Craftsmen Gang man snapped alert, as if waking up, and eyed Zhou Chen warily. "What are you asking for?"

Zhou Chen quickly backed off. "I'm not up to anything. Just asking."

The Craftsmen Gang man snorted. "More than the Iron Armor Soldiers, anyway. You don't know how many people in Shipai and the Prefectural City are waiting to build tile-roofed houses. All that silver those soldiers risk their lives to earn — once they build a house, it all comes to me. I just put in some muscle. Tell me that's not better than risking your life."

Zhou Chen thought for a moment, then said blankly, "That does make sense. Why didn't I think of that?"

The Craftsmen Gang man covered his face. "No point talking about it now. Got dragged into this damn Anqing Battalion — three or four taels a month at most, and you have to sell your life for it."

"Then just desert the camp. There's no camp wall by the river channel — slip away quietly at night. You came and enlisted on your own; they don't know where your home is."

"You think deserting is that easy? Haven't you seen how the Anqing Battalion catches deserters? If they catch you, it's beheading!" The Craftsmen Gang man's face twisted bitterly. "That soldier who recorded our names was a nasty one. He heard my Chizhou accent and saw the mortar dust on me, so he just wrote down 'Craftsmen Gang.' If I run, they'll go to the gang boss and demand he hand me over. If he doesn't, they'll drive the gang boss out. You think the gang boss wants to leave? He's from an old Chizhou family. If I run, he'll come catch me himself. Either way, this craftsman's life is over."

Zhou Chen suddenly felt a twinge of guilt. He said carefully, "Being a battalion soldier earns plenty too. Look at the men who come to join the Anqing Battalion — they're all stout fellows..."

As he spoke, he turned to look behind him. There were eleven men in the Squad in total. Eight other soldiers were in the room; one more had gone out to visit others and gather news.

Of the eight he could see right now, none looked particularly strong or sturdy. They were old besides — at least two looked nearly forty, their hair already streaked white. The oldest one was missing three teeth. The rest were in tattered clothes, skinny and scrawny, sprawled on the beds without any bearing at all. They didn't seem to have much to do with stout fellows.

"They'll all be stout fellows someday, you'll see."

The Craftsmen Gang man shot him an exasperated glare. Just as he was about to speak, a man came running in from outside — the very one who had gone out earlier to gather news.

The moment he entered, he shouted, "Got the word. The Infantry Firearms Battalion's monthly pay for the first three months is five Mace. After entering the military registry, it's one tael."

The room erupted. Those lying down sleeping crowded around, all smiles and fawning, pelting the news-bringer with endless questions. The two older men were beside themselves with joy.

"Five Mace and they feed you too — that's plenty. I heard they even issue shoes. Lord Pang is truly a bodhisattva."

"You can save one tael in two months. Where else could you find that?"

"One tael is one silver coin. I've seen those silver coins — real dignified. I'm going to exchange for one too."

Zhou Chen hurriedly stood up, pushed the others aside, and grabbed the news-bringer. "Did you hear clearly — five Mace or five taels? How come I heard it's at least two taels in the battalion?"

"Five Mace. The Infantry Firearms Battalion is five Mace. Rice here at Shipai is one shi for a tael — you can eat your fill."

"Five Mace monthly pay?" The Craftsmen Gang man beside him heard this, then suddenly covered his face and began to sob.

Zhou Chen, on the contrary, breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm going to the Iron Armor Battalion. I'm not staying in the Infantry Firearms Battalion."

The man shook his head. "The Infantry Firearms Battalion doesn't follow Anqing Battalion rules. They say transfers to other camps aren't allowed. If you're in the Infantry Firearms Battalion, you stay in the Infantry Firearms Battalion — you can't go anywhere."

The other soldiers didn't care in the slightest. They kept laughing, discussing how to spend that five Mace of silver.

Zhou Chen walked back to the bed as if in a trance and sat down. He sat dazed for a long while, then covered his face and sobbed along with the Craftsmen Gang man.

"Reporting to Your Excellency: the response to the Infantry Firearms Battalion recruitment has been extremely enthusiastic. Though the camp is newly established, the common people recognize it. We set up conscription stations at only two places — Shipai and the Sheng-Tang ferry — and in two days we've already filled the quota for one Si. There are still many Volunteers who arrived late, hoping we'll recruit again."

On the Dajiaochang drill ground of the Shipai Martial Academy, a group entered through the main gate. Pang Yu walked at the very front, inspecting the barracks facilities as he went.

Wu Dacai followed closely at Pang Yu's side, continuing his report. "Per Your Excellency's intent, everything in the Infantry Firearms Battalion must be cheap... not cheap, but sufficient for use. Keep it simple where possible. As long as a man can walk, carry a gun, has sharp ears and eyes, and nimble fingers, he qualifies. The pool of recruits immediately expanded, so the monthly pay could be lowered. New recruits get five Mace; Right Troops get one tael."

Wu Dacai stole a glance at Pang Yu's expression. "There's still no shortage of applicants. That one tael for Right Troops could be discussed further — whatever Your Excellency thinks."

Pang Yu nodded. "It's slightly high. Let's leave it at one tael for now."

Wu Dacai let out a breath of relief and continued. "Regarding armor, weapons, and equipment: no armor or helmets will be issued to any soldier — just one set of uniform. Shoes can be issued or not. One cloth cap must be given, one oilskin raincoat, and one canteen must be given. Next, the Self-Igniting Arquebus and its accoutrements: one fire lance at seven taels five Mace. Waist sabers range from one to three taels depending on quality — a three-tael waist saber requires a Su Steel point steel edge. This humble officer figures that since we use fire lances to kill the enemy, the waist saber won't see much use, so we'll issue the one-tael ones. Calculated out, equipment comes to ten taels per man. Then there's food, rations, and pay. If we don't drill with blades, they won't exert much strength, so they can eat a bit less. Tentatively budget five taels per soldier per year. Drill gunpowder and shot won't exceed five taels. Excluding armor and weapons, at most around twenty taels per year — not worth a single suit of iron armor for a Heavy Infantryman."

"You haven't accounted for basic infrastructure like barracks, or for administrative costs. Still, it saves a great deal. When this official spoke earlier of cutting costs, I did not mean to mistreat the soldiers. Some money cannot be saved." Pang Yu turned to Wu Dacai. "A conical hat can be issued — make it a bit larger, so it can shield against rain on wet days and prevent the gunpowder from getting damp during loading. With luck, it might even block an arrow. As for shoes, issue those too. There will be more marching on campaign; we must treat the soldiers of the Infantry Firearms Battalion well."

"Your Excellency shows such solicitude for the troops. This subordinate is deeply moved. I will immediately issue conical hats to all soldiers — the bamboo-splint ones are light and can even stop arrows."

Pang Yu waved his hand. "I don't mean to deliberately short them on pay. This official would wish for nothing more than to give every soldier ten taels a month. But China stretches thousands of li in all directions, and we must fight both the Tartars and the Roving Bandits. Too few troops won't do, but too many we cannot afford to support. Take the firearm soldiers — they don't rely on physical strength. You start by drilling them and see what kind of personnel we actually need, what monthly pay to give. Turn marching and fighting into a Drill Manual. This is extremely important for our Anqing Battalion."

"This humble one understands. Your Excellency specifically instructed that all kinds of personnel be recruited for testing. This subordinate has enlisted Green-Skins, boatmen, monks and priests, craftsmen, brokerages, refugees, and more — over ten types in all. We also recruited farmers, trackers, boat workers, and the like in the old way, to see which can be drilled into a proper army."

Pang Yu nodded. "Have the new recruits assemble. This official will inspect them first."

Wu Dacai immediately went to instruct the Martial Academy subordinates. Soon, someone ran toward the barracks, and others went to the General Command Platform to prepare the drumming.

Pang Ding, who was beside him, came over and said quietly to Pang Yu, "My lord, I hear that many of those recruited here at Shipai are refugees. There are likely quite a few Green-Skin Ruffians among them."

"The type of personnel is irrelevant. The only thing that matters is whether the troops Wu Dacai trains meet the cost requirements. Just count the silver." Pang Yu extended a finger. "Iron Armor Soldiers are reliable in battle, but their annual monthly pay, weapons, backup weapons, bows and arrows, and food costs are high. On the march, they need dedicated carriages and civilian laborers. And that's not even counting the iron armor. Once you attach artillery, cavalry, and logistics, the average cost is around one hundred taels per man. If we maintain three thousand Heavy Infantry, that's at least three hundred thousand taels. Over two years, six hundred thousand. Every battle is close-quarters combat — death and injury comfort compensation is paid as a proportion of monthly pay, a long-term expenditure going forward. Then you have to train new Iron Armor Soldiers. All told, three years after a Heavy Infantryman joins the battalion, I need to spend at least four hundred taels on him."

Pang Ding was stunned for a moment, then said, "Four hundred taels... I'm afraid that's about right."

"A firearm soldier, including equipment, is only twenty-five taels. Excluding equipment, twenty taels a year. Attach artillery, cavalry, logistics, plus administrative costs — but we aren't picky about recruits. Most of those enlisted this time are single men, so comfort compensation will be very low. Averaged out, it's roughly twenty percent of a Heavy Infantryman's cost."

"But they aren't as formidable in battle."

"Individually, perhaps not. They may not look as reliable as Heavy Infantry either. But their weapons can kill any enemy. Cheapness alone is a kind of formidable power. If we're fighting Tartar Armored Soldiers, I don't mind trading five for one. At this cost, I can easily support a hundred thousand troops in a year. Say more — two hundred thousand. Push hard — three hundred thousand. Go all out — even four hundred thousand is possible."

Pang Ding pinched his own leg before he could accept the number four hundred thousand.

Pang Yu patted Pang Ding on the shoulder. "I only need them to fire one shot. That's four hundred thousand shots. Fire two shots — eight hundred thousand shots. Fire three shots — over a million. Hit eighty thousand shots, and that handful of Tartars will be wiped out. Then we don't lose out. Hit two hundred thousand shots, and the realm is at peace. Reckoned this way, it's still cheap."

Pang Ding swallowed hard, frowning as he calculated in his head. Just then, the sound of hoofbeats came from the direction of the camp gate. The guards behind them all turned to look. The Martial Academy was managed like a military camp zone — only Relay Horses could ride, and only when carrying urgent dispatches.

The relay rider, carrying a banner flag on his back, hurried up to Pang Yu and delivered a sealed letter. Pang Yu opened it and skimmed quickly — it had already been decrypted at the Anqing yamen. After finishing it in moments, he handed it to Pang Ding.

"The Eight Bandits, Left Golden King, Geli Yan, and Ma Shouying have combined several forces into one camp. They ambushed Government Troops at Suizhou. Zuo Liangyu suffered a major defeat, and the Huguang Pacification Standard Battalion lost over half its strength. The Huguang region is in uproar. The Emperor has been irascible and prone to rage lately. Xiong Wencan and Fang Kongzhao are likely in trouble."