Chapter 478: The Pre-Departure Negotiation

A perfectly good strategic seminar was once again derailed by a certain someone into a weapons trade fair.

This was still the Transmigrators' stalling tactic.

The Twenty-Eight Style would never appear in Ming Army hands — even if the Emperor were willing to play the fool and pay out silver, the whole thing would fall through in the end due to a shortage of percussion caps.

Besides, the Emperor wasn't likely to shell out that much silver anyway — by Cao Zong's reckoning, putting together even a mere 500-man elite firearm battalion, on top of buying guns and bullets, would also require massive shooting training for the soldiers, which meant a sea of silver.

What was more terrifying was that all of the above was just preparation. Once on an actual battlefield, those soldiers firing their guns would certainly send bullets raining down — Cao Zong himself had nearly gone bankrupt this time.

A solution that could satisfy the Emperor's interests without posing a threat to the Transmigrators — the final answer to this problem still had to rely on the flintlock.

It was now the 1630s, and the continental European powers were in the middle of the Thirty Years' War. In this period, European weapons innovation was in a phase of rapid development; the matchlock was being phased out, and the muzzle-loading wheel-lock was becoming the mainstream on the battlefield.

In fact, twenty years earlier, the ultimate impact flintlock — the kind later generations often see in films and TV dramas, finally perfected and improved by the Frenchman Mahan — had already appeared.

However, due to the assassination of King Henry IV of France, the impact flintlock ended up being resisted by the stubborn faction — this was perfectly normal; any new product's debut will provoke opposition from the conservative faction, and this held true for the flintlock just as it would for the breech-loading rifle.

It was not until the mid-seventeenth century that the impact flintlock was equipped in large numbers. Historically, during the colonial golden age from the seventeenth to the nineteenth centuries, what the colonizers used to dominate the globe were, without exception, the descendants of this divine gun.

Under these circumstances, the Transmigrators could safely equip their second-tier forces with flintlocks. Since a prototype already existed in Europe, there was no longer any need for technical secrecy.

The second-tier forces here included not only Chongzhen but also the colonial pioneering corps currently being formed. Additionally, some Guide Party members planted behind enemy lines also needed this kind of gun... such as that double agent Li Jichun.

So the approach to solving this problem was already quite clear: first, fob off the Emperor; if that didn't work, then sell the flintlock to the Emperor.

And after Chongzhen saw another, seemingly more excellent solution, his earlier warm and enthusiastic thoughts cooled down. Yes — if he could produce this kind of fire lance himself, or take a step back and purchase it himself, and then build his own direct-line army, wouldn't that be more reliable in any case than groveling and begging a military strongman to go risk his life?

Having thought this through, Chongzhen no longer insisted on transferring Cao Zong to garrison Liaodong.

The tea symposium that followed moved on to another agenda item: military funding.

At this point, Cao Zong, right in front of the Emperor, began demanding silver from the two Grand Secretaries to reimburse his military expenses. How much? Three hundred thousand taels.

This figure left both the Emperor and Zhou Yanru dumbstruck.

The Senior Grand Secretary then firmly expressed his disbelief, once again questioning whether Cao Zong was making outrageous demands. Cao Zong, for his part, poured out a litany of woes — not only did he settle accounts on the spot, he also pulled out the official document from when Xiong Wencan had scraped together two hundred thousand taels in military funds for him.

This, however, piqued the Emperor's interest: Fujian was a beggar province that never had enough to eat — where had two hundred thousand taels of silver come from?

This was the moment Cao Zong had finally been waiting for, and he seized the chance to sing Lao Xiong's praises lavishly before the Emperor — before Cao Zong set out on campaign, Lao Xiong, frantic with worry for His Majesty, had not only emptied every last Fujian provincial treasury but had also swallowed his pride and scraped three feet of ground, summoning merchants and gentry for talks and squeezing out "voluntary" donations. When he found the silver still fell short, Lao Xiong could only endure humiliation and bear his burden, knocking through the street-facing rooms of the Grand Coordinator's Office and renting them out to merchants — only then did he scrape together the two hundred thousand taels for Cao Zong.

After listening to Cao Zong's emotionally charged story, the young Emperor was instantly moved, the rims of his eyes reddening slightly: "Good, good — Xiong Wencan is a fine man. Scraping three feet of ground — We shall not blame him!"

By this point, the Emperor had finally established a basic concept in his mind: if he wanted to kick Tartar heads around like balls, the old way wouldn't work. He had to spend money — spend it fiercely, spend big. You couldn't win a war relying on beggars.

Cao Zong told a good story, but unfortunately, someone still wasn't buying it. Zhou Yanru might only be forty-five, but anyone who could become Senior Grand Secretary was certainly an old fox — how could he be swayed by a feel-good anecdote?

Not only that, Senior Grand Secretary Zhou had also found a hole in Cao Zong's story — since those two hundred thousand taels came from the Fujian Grand Coordinator's Office, the Ministry of Revenue and Xiong Wencan could sort out that famine debt between themselves afterward. As for you, Lord Cao, the Cabinet would later consider, deliberate, and study the matter, and probably, perhaps, reimburse you one hundred thousand taels.

Fine — on this issue, Cao Zong could only admit defeat. Everyone knew the court was dirt poor; he had never expected to pry silver out of the Ministry of Revenue in the first place. The main point of this topic had been to sing Lao Xiong's praises to the Emperor.

After the military funding matter was hashed out, they reached the final important agenda item: the Emperor and his two chief ministers began discussing Cao Zong's formal appointment. Naturally, as a great meritorious official, Cao Zong was also given the chance to listen in and express his opinion.

If he wasn't going to Liaodong, arranging Cao Zong's post was actually quite easy.

Whether it was a one-step promotion from his current Zhangchao Deputy Regional Commander position, or going to Guangdong or Fujian to serve as Deputy Regional Commander or Regional Commander, the Emperor indicated that all could be considered — a meritorious official must not be shortchanged.

Now it was Wen Tiren's turn to step forward. Because Cao Zong could not possibly state his own position on such a matter; at this moment, he could only humbly express that old Cao here would obey whatever the Emperor decided.

Wen Tiren's proposal was very simple: just promote Vice President Cao one rank from his current official grade. The reasoning was also ample: at present, neither the Guangdong nor Fujian Regional Commander posts were vacant. If they insisted on promoting Cao Zong to a post in Fujian and Guangdong, it would entangle a whole series of personnel transfers — a great deal of trouble.

A slight historical divergence occurred here: in the Ming Dynasty, there was no Zhangchao Regional Commander, only a Deputy Regional Commander; the Regional Commander post would not appear until the Qing Dynasty.

Watching Wen Tiren speak eloquently, laying out facts and reasoning, Chongzhen nodded inwardly. Actor Wen's grasp of the big picture greatly pleased His Majesty... truly a lone minister — he could even hoodwink the very Cao Zong who had sent him into the Cabinet.

As far as the Emperor was concerned, the Regional Commander posts of Fujian and Guangdong could not, at least for now, be handed to Pirate Cao — even though the Emperor verbally said he could pick any post, those were, after all, substantive Regional Commander positions controlling an entire province's military forces. Just handing one to Pirate Cao like that — the Emperor was certain to have misgivings in his heart.

Historically, Chongzhen appointed Zheng Zhilong as Fujian Regional Commander only in 1640, when the Great Ming was tottering in the wind and rain. But now, buoyed by a great victory, Chongzhen's spirits were high; he still intended to be a restoration sovereign, so naturally he would not allow a military strongman to grow unchecked. No matter how great Cao Zong's achievements, what needed to be suppressed in the shadows still had to be suppressed.

So the proposal Wen Tiren put forward best suited the Emperor's wishes: upgrading Zhangchao Deputy Regional Commander to Regional Commander looked like a one-rank promotion, but in reality, it was useless. Cao Zong would still have the same troops and territory as before, still without authority to command the officers and soldiers of Fujian and Guangdong.

Yet the Transmigrators thought the same way.

At present, the Great Ming had a coastline but no coastal defense; its officers and soldiers were decadent and could barely manage to tread water in the coastal areas. With Cao Zong in this rather unique Zhangchao Regional Commander position, straddling both provinces, it effectively brought the Fujian-Guangdong coast under his own jurisdiction — and that was what mattered most.

As for what Chongzhen worried about, the Transmigrators didn't care. They couldn't rebel right now anyway, and moving to a provincial Regional Commander post would actually tie their hands.

Once both the Senior and Junior Grand Secretaries had nodded to this proposal, the Emperor smoothly went with the flow and promoted Cao Chuan to Zhangchao Regional Commander on the spot. Then Cao Zong received the decree and expressed his gratitude, and afterward everyone beamed with expressions of blessing all around — impossible to tell who was silently mouthing the word "idiot" in their heart.

After the investiture, perhaps feeling a slight twinge of conscience, the Emperor then instructed Cao Zhongchen to promptly submit the list of meritorious personnel from this campaign, to be "employed with preferential treatment."

As for meritorious personnel, Cao Zong truly had no one to report. Over the next few years, the Transmigrators would follow a low-profile development path in the north, so they had no intention of recommending a dazzling proxy to stand there and serve as a target for the Guanning Army and the Donglin Party.

People like Wen Tiren and the double agent Li Jichun — Cao Zong was now pretending not to know these two at all. The reason was precisely the fear that after he left, these two would be branded as members of Cao's Faction.

However, while there was no recommendation list, Cao Zong still had demands to make. Having earned some merit with such difficulty, he was certain to want to exchange it for something from the Emperor.

And so Cao Zong put forward the following two requests.

First: opening a branch base.

According to Cao Zong, the reason he had initially holed up motionless in Tianjin when he led his troops on this King's Rescue mission was partly due to supplies not keeping up, but also because large numbers of his southern soldiers had fallen ill.

Southerners coming north suffered from climate acclimatization issues, on top of unaccustomed food and poor lodging conditions — all reasons that had caused him, a dignified Regional Commander, to become a Light Pole Commander for a time.

Therefore, Cao Zong was taking this opportunity to petition the Emperor, hoping to have plots of land allocated in Shandong and Tianjin respectively for him to construct naval ports. That way, he could stockpile supplies there in peacetime, and the next time a King's Rescue was needed, his soldiers could quickly complete their rest and reorganization upon arrival and throw themselves into battle.

Cao Zong's request was perfectly reasonable, and the Emperor was certain to grant it — Huang Taiji had returned fully laden this time; anyone with half a brain knew the Later Jin bandits would surely look for another chance to breach the passes. When that time came, Cao Zong would certainly be needed again.

Chongzhen nodded and granted this request on the spot.

At this moment, the benefit of the Transmigrators supporting Wen Tiren's entry into the Cabinet became apparent. It wasn't about Lao Wen stirring up storms, but precisely about these inconspicuous yet crucial political matters for the Transmigrators.

For instance, in the subsequent official correspondence, Lao Wen could seemingly casually designate some piece of territory in Shandong that the Transmigrators had their eye on for constructing a naval port. And the Emperor wouldn't bother with such trivial details.

After the first request was satisfied, the second request Cao Zong put forward was slightly peculiar: Macau.

Yes, according to Cao Zong: the Franks entrenched in Macau were not only competing with him for the arms trade in the Indian Ocean but were also opposing him on multiple maritime trade routes.

Cao Zong was now formally advising the Emperor: he would privately fund troops from his own pocket, without spending a single coin of the court's money, to recover Xiamen.

Cao Zong further promised: after the deed was done, he would hand Xiamen back to the court, to be administered by regular civil officials dispatched by the court.

Although this topic was very awkward, the other few people present understood that if this really happened, Cao Zong would effectively be expanding the realm's territory.