Chapter 421: Scout Field (1)

With a string of "clop-clop-clop" hoofbeats, dust rose ceaselessly from the dirt road, drawing nearer from afar.

There were three knights in total.

The one in the lead was twenty-three or twenty-four years old, with a handsome face, fair skin, and a solid build. He wore a suede greatcoat and carried a fine tempered-steel blade at his waist — clearly the scion of a well-to-do martial family. The two attendants behind him were also dressed in brand-new sheepskin robes, carrying bows and arrows, their expressions fierce and tough.

This young man, a faint smile on his face and a hint of irreverence about him, was surnamed Mei. His name was Mei Fuxi, the ninth in his generation, and people called him Ninth Young Master.

The Mei family were hereditary military-household soldiers of the Jin Right Garrison.

Back when the Yongle Emperor built Jinwei City, he relocated the Jin Three Garrisons to garrison it permanently.

The earliest Jin Garrison Commander among them, the first generation, was Ni Bao'er of the Hongwu era. Every successor after that was taken up by his descendants; throughout the Ming dynasty, the Ni family passed down the Commander post for nine generations.

Next was the Tianjin Left Guard, whose first commander was the Yongle-era military officer Zhao Ming. He was a native of Boye in Hebei, a favored general of Ming Chengzu, Zhu Di. After that, the post was inherited by precedent, likewise for nine generations.

And the one with the longest inheritance was the Mei family of the Jin Right Garrison.

The first-generation General-in-Chief of the Mei family was called Mei Man'er, a native of Wujin in Jiangsu. He was the great-grandson of Mei Yin, the Prince Consort of the Hongwu era, and was transferred to Tianjin in the second year of Yongle.

By the time of the last General-in-Chief, Mei Yingwu, in the Chongzhen era, the Mei family had already passed down the Commander post for ten generations. And that wasn't the end of it — in actual history, the Mei family would continue to be passed down into the Qing dynasty, serving as Green Standard Army officers.

This mounted young gentleman, Mei Fuxi, was precisely a member of the Mei family.

Mei Fuxi's branch was somewhat distant from the current Commander, Mei Yingwu — they could already be considered distant relatives. The previous Commander, Mei Shoucheng, who died on the Liaodong battlefield during the Tianqi era, was actually a bit closer to Mei Fuxi's line.

This distant branch of the Mei family did not hold high authority in the garrison. Mei Fuxi's father was merely a Registered Thousand-Household. As the saying goes, "poor in letters, rich in martial arts" — what supported Mei Fuxi's extravagant martial lifestyle was actually the Mei family's business in Tianjin. Their grain and fur trade had done quite well over the years, so the family fortune was still very substantial.

And Mei Fuxi was also different from most of the garrison's good-for-nothing sons who just idled away their days. This young master had loved martial arts and detested book learning since childhood, spending his days practicing with spear and staff, tempering his body, and learning skills from the old soldiers.

Once he came of age, he styled himself a "young hero," roaming around with his attendants, picking fights everywhere, eager to stir up trouble and right wrongs. On this small patch of turf that was Jinwei, Ninth Young Master Mei had a certain reputation.

Today, Ninth Young Master had brought his men to the Old Parade Ground. Naturally, like everyone else, it was because he had seen that certain Regional Commander's notice.

Of course, a rich second-generation like Ninth Young Master, who lacked for nothing in food or clothing, could naturally not be bothered to become some wretched Auxiliary Soldier for a pittance of silver. Joining the bustle, meeting all manner of heroes at the selection grounds, and maybe showing off his skills on the field, putting on a display and making a name for himself — that was the young man's goal for today.

And so, harboring the spirit of "participation matters most," Ninth Young Master had readied his horse and gear early this morning, brought his two most capable household retainers, and ridden straight for the Old Parade Ground.

The dirt road leading to the Old Parade Ground was especially lively today. In crowds, in groups, in twos and threes, or alone, large numbers of martial men from around Jinwei were hurrying along, all heading to the same destination.

These people broadly came from three sources.

The largest group were the sons of military households from the Jin Three Garrisons, most of them from impoverished military families. Their goal was very simple: they were drawn by the high wages on the notice.

Next were the caravan guards traveling in groups.

Behind these men stood the major merchant houses. This time, since General Cao was recruiting, the big merchants naturally had to show their support, so they had all sent out the guards under their employ.

The last scattered group was mostly urban unemployed. These people came from complicated backgrounds — there were loafers and idlers, canal laborers and porters, and even river-and-lake bandits who lived by the profitless trade of robbery... These were the sort who came seeking official rank and a clean slate.

Ninth Young Master Mei was originally from a military household himself, and he had long mingled along the Canal's One Line, so he got along well with all three types. All along the way, people kept greeting and saluting the trio.

Mei Fuxi sat upright on his horse, constantly clasping his hands in salute to the various heroes and gallants, occasionally trading a few laughing jibes — truly free and easy, the very image of a young hero.

Traveling on like this, the trio arrived before the gates of the Old Parade Ground.

Naturally, there were guards at the camp gate. Seeing those short, stocky Green-Jacket Soldiers holding rifles with fixed bayonets, none of the men who had come to enlist dared cause trouble.

After getting past their initial discomfort with the strange clothing and short hair, any normal person in Tianjin could now see that this was a crack unit. That bearing of an army forged by years of rigorous training could not be faked. And so the martial men who had come today, even those ordinarily wild and unruly, involuntarily reined in their swagger before this strong force, who were likely General Cao's household retainers.

Following the gate guards' instructions, Mei Fuxi and his two companions first went to the adjacent horse grounds.

Tianjin was where nine rivers converged, so flooding had always been frequent and low-lying marshland was everywhere. But what Mei Fuxi now saw was not the muddy patch in his memory — it was a fine horse grounds, already half filled and raised.

On this filled half of the land, rows of brick-and-wood stables had been built, both orderly and clean.

After stabling their own horses in the designated stalls, grooms in neat, dark-blue short jackets were right there, adding a mixed fine feed of black beans and buckwheat into the horse troughs. "Good sir, just go and enlist. All expenses today are on Lord Cao."

"This Southern General truly means to make something of himself?" After coming out, Mei Fuxi scrambled up a column and stood at a high vantage point to take in the view.

What met his eyes were rows upon rows of stables, all filled with top-quality horses. The news that the Southern General had bought up every good horse from the surrounding horse traders had spread all over Jinwei in the past two days. Not only that, but fine steeds that some big merchants had originally used to pull luxury carriages had also all been sent to the Old Parade Ground — this, too, Mei Fuxi knew.

Yet hearsay, after all, could not compare to seeing it with one's own eyes. Witnessing these rows of fine horses eating black beans with his own eyes brought Mei Fuxi considerable shock.

With a few more things now weighing on his mind, Ninth Young Master somewhat reined in the irreverence on his face and led his followers through the main gate of the Old Parade Ground.

Inside the newly renovated Old Parade Ground, right past the entrance was a row of long tables, where a dozen or so clerks were registering the men who had come to enlist, one by one.

This procedure was mandatory. According to standard procedure, in the early stages, those enlisting all needed a guarantor's letter — conscription required men of good family. The Transmigrators' recruitment this time was the same: anyone who came to enlist had to, at minimum, clearly state their family background.

Mei Fuxi was of a proper, hereditary military household, his background clean. After stepping forward, stating his details, and making his mark, he received his number tag and was granted entry into the parade ground.

On the south side of the parade ground, a long, two-tiered viewing stand had already been set up using wood boards and trestle tables. Quite a few people were already sitting on it, clustered in scattered groups.

When Mei Fuxi and his two companions walked over, they found that these people were all grouped by background: military-household men with military-household men, guards with guards.

After making a round of greetings along the way, Mei Fuxi ultimately brought his two followers and sat down among the crowd from the Jin Right Garrison.

More and more people entered the parade ground and gathered like this. By around nine in the morning, over a thousand people had assembled on the southern viewing stand. For a moment, heads bobbed and discussions buzzed.

Right at nine o'clock sharp, several signal cannons suddenly boomed. On the northern command platform, directly facing the southern viewing stand, strange figures suddenly appeared — men wearing grayish-black beggar's robes and holding long spears.

Only after this did various important figures take their seats on the platform one after another. Among them, General Cao, sitting in the main seat and wearing a bright red official robe, was especially conspicuous. Immediately after, a four-rank formation of two hundred Guard Battalion soldiers marched in precise, synchronized steps to the front of the command platform, lowered their rifles, and saluted with their eyes.

The uniform steps, the bayonets gleaming coldly, two hundred men moving as one... Seeing this scene, the Ming people who had been chattering moments before instantly felt a dense, chilling killing intent and martial authority. The buzz of discussion abruptly ceased.

The soldiers quickly dispersed and surrounded the entire parade ground.

With the opening act fully delivered and order maintained, the real shock arrived.

On the command platform, when a young man in Thousand-Commander uniform opened his mouth, the enormous sound that burst from the loudspeaker instantly terrified the Ming people across the way, throwing them into panic. Some even fell off the stand: they hadn't seen thousands of men shouting in unison, had they?

At a moment like this, only volley fire could control the crowd. And so, all around the viewing stand, the roar of Type 38 Rifles rang out in unison. As thick smoke billowed from the muzzles, bullets whizzed over the heads of the Ming people.

After the gunfire, everyone became very obedient...

Having thoroughly cowed these martial men, who knew neither the height of heaven nor the thickness of earth and were utterly devoid of discipline, the enormous voice rang out once more from the command platform.

The young man first introduced himself: he was the Horse Army Thousand-Commander of the Fujian Patrol Standard Battalion, named Chen Ce.

Chen Ce then told these martial men that this enormous voice was merely the result of some ingenious mechanical devices, and that they need not panic.

Only after that did Chen Ce begin his formal address — the Regional Commander, wholeheartedly devoted to serving the nation, intended to fight a decisive battle against the Jian slaves, and therefore wished to recruit some local natives as Auxiliary Soldiers, and so on.

By the time he got to this set of official rhetoric, the terrified Ming people gradually began to settle down.

Once the bureaucratic boilerplate was done, Chen Ce once again repeated all the generous terms from the notice, giving these temporary workers a reassuring pill to swallow.

Of course, something like a reassuring pill was ultimately unconvincing when delivered by mouth alone. And so, a clichéd scene soon appeared on the command platform... a silver dragon laid out by none other than Lord Cao himself.

Cao Datou's technically sophisticated Silver Dollar had long since become well known and beloved by the Ming People, thanks to the circulation along the Canal and the Transmigrators buying goods everywhere; its exchange rate against an equivalent weight of silver consistently remained at a premium.

So upon seeing that long Silver Dragon on stage, despite the crude and clichéd tactic, the Ming People fell for it completely: the majority grew excited again in this one moment, each one forgetting their earlier embarrassment, and began rubbing their fists and wiping their palms, ready to descend into the fray.

And thus, the first Auxiliary Soldier selection General Assembly officially began.