Chapter 587: The Moment of Reckoning

Traveling to the Ming Dynasty Main Text Volume Chapter 589: The Moment of Reckoning "Hahahaha!"

The moment Kong Youde so bluntly spoke the key word "rebellion," Zhang Zhongqi threw his head back and laughed. In the cramped ship cabin, laughter filled the air for a moment, and Kong Youde, whose face had been full of terror, now looked a little lost.

In truth, any clear-eyed person had long understood that everything the Crossing Faction did followed the "standard rebellion playbook" familiar to any traditional monarchical society.

Apart from the imperial court, what power base would gather refugees on a large scale and train private troops? In the distant past there were the Yellow Turbans; in recent times, Zhu Yuanzhang and Li Zicheng.

In other words, someone not aiming for rebellion would never do such things.

This logic required no vast learning or deep reading of the classics — any Native with the ability to follow a storyteller's tale could deduce what the Transmigrators were up to.

The reason this issue never exploded into the open was not because the Transmigrators' methods were so clever or their cover so perfect.

In the early period, it drew no attention because the scale of operations was small, and the Transmigrators fished in troubled waters amid the social chaos. And in the later period — a few years already counted as later — the behemoth had grown up overnight, its speed not only staggering but, through the King's Rescue affair, it had bared its fangs and claws.

By this point, everyone at court and in the provinces, including Chongzhen and his brain trust, though they said nothing aloud, surely held one sober private understanding: this particular power base must not be pushed into rebellion, for the harm would far surpass the Eastern Savages.

With that understanding, and combined with the current dire situation "at home and abroad," what Chongzhen and all those who harbored ill will toward the Crossing Faction could actually do was very little: "Matters have their order of urgency; for now, feign compliance and placate them. Once the court catches its breath, we can slowly make plans."

This mindset was the optimal solution for the court under present conditions — and the only solution.

The Transmigrators, however, were thinking exactly the same thing.

For an industrial conglomerate in the midst of savage growth, every passing day visibly increased its strength by a fraction, its growth rate far beyond anything a traditional agricultural society could match.

What's more, the Great Ming was now leaking wind from every side — far from catching its breath, it was on the verge of breathing its last.

The true Transmigrators of the current age, because they grasped history and also possessed information-age divine tools like the telegraph and social statistics, understood with perfect clarity their own strength and the gap between them and present-day Ming society.

To put it more plainly, these people had long since become utterly lawless, because they knew the fact that the court could no longer do anything about them.

This arrogant mindset no longer needed to be concealed within the "directly controlled zone" in the south. Only here in the north, far from their old nest, did they perhaps still need to exercise a little restraint.

This was precisely why Zhang Zhongqi had laughed so loudly today: he had never imagined that the very issue he was still trying his best to cover up would be spoken aloud so openly by the man before him — a mere Assistant Regional Commander, a "lowly" figure within the Great Ming system.

Kong Youde's action left Zhang Zhongqi both amused and alert.

Amused, because his inner thoughts had been exposed. It made Zhang Zhongqi realize that as an outsider who did not blend into this era, whatever he tried to do was still far too obvious, seen through at once by a Native — laughable that he had been trying to cover it up before.

Alert, for the very same reason: he was, after all, working in the northern "enemy-occupied zone." It seemed he would need to be more restrained going forward, lest every move be secretly seen through by the Natives.

Having thought it through, Zhang Zhongqi stopped laughing.

The next moment, he fixed his gaze on Kong Youde with keen interest and delivered a line that would become a classic in later generations: "Brother Ruitu, I find you've really got a feel for this."

Without waiting for Kong Youde to answer, Zhang Zhongqi smiled and waved a hand: "As for rebellion — we won't be doing any rebelling. After all, Earl Cao's loyalty and valor are known to all under Heaven. We are all loyal to the court, every one of us a loyal subject, don't you agree?"

"Brother, there's no need to be nervous." Zhang Zhongqi continued his work: "What we're discussing today is mainly about solidarity and mutual support between brother units — it has nothing to do with rebellion. His Majesty is a wise sovereign; surely he wouldn't forbid his subordinates from becoming sworn kin or calling each other elder brother?"

Kong Youde's expression was somewhat blank; his thoughts were in chaos at that moment.

When all was said and done, he was, after all, just a native-born young man of this land; his mode of thinking was still that of a "normal Ming person." So when Kong Youde realized that what he had been abruptly drawn into today was a conspiracy that could cost him his head, his nerves had already been stretched to the breaking point.

Yet what stunned him was the other party's ease, audacity, and indifference.

He had assumed this would be furtive whispers in the candlelight, a conspirator's dialogue laden with negative emotions like enmity, threats, sowing discord, and co-opting.

But the reality was that the other party, utterly unguarded, came straight to the point, tossing around words like "brothers" and "solidarity." What did brotherly solidarity and sworn kinship mean? Translated into the speech of Ming people, it was "frontier generals colluding in secret, plotting treason." In every dynasty past, this was plainly a crime punishable by the extermination of one's entire clan.

Not only that — Kong Youde realized that the other party genuinely seemed unaware of the gravity of "secret collusion and communication." It was as if, in the mouth of this Hundred-Household Officer Zhang, so long as one did not openly raise a rebel banner, "merely" supplying a "friendly force" with some military provisions and pay was just a matter of "sworn kinship," and did not count as rebellion?

Most outrageous of all, from the other party's faintly mocking words and expression, Kong Youde could tell that this man truly did not take the Emperor or the court seriously at all, treating them as though they did not exist in everything he said and implied.

Normally, such reckless audacity was found only in fools. So was this man surnamed Zhang a fool? Clearly not.

Which meant the man had the confidence to back up such arrogance.

Where did that confidence come from? Four thousand genuine Tatar heads? The divine skill of night vision? Superior cannons and powerful firearms?

And so Kong Youde's expression at this moment was somewhat blank.

After a long while, having worked through the key points, Kong Youde finally digested it all. Yet when he wanted to say something, he opened and closed his mouth several times, but could not find the right words to say to the "madman" before him.

In the end, his heart a tangled mess, Kong Youde could only grit his teeth, clasp his hands in salute, bow from the waist, lower his head, and say: "Youde is overwhelmed with surprise at such generous regard from Lord Cao and all of you gentlemen."

"There is just one thing: this matter is of tremendous consequence. I fear I, Youde, cannot make the decision alone, and must beg you, sir, to grant a little forbearance."

"Fine, fine."

Kong Youde's reaction had long been within Zhang Zhongqi's expectations. After all, among the Dengzhou generals, Kong Youde was merely the leader of the East River alliance and did not possess the stature of a big brother who could decide with a single hammer blow. A matter this big, he would at the very least need to go back and discuss it with his true sworn elder brother, Geng Zhongming.

The next moment, Zhang Zhongqi helped Kong Youde up by the arm and patted him lightly twice on the back of the hand: "Once you return, brother, discuss it thoroughly with your colleagues and plan it well."

"As for my side, there's no rush. Whether there's a result or not doesn't matter. Starting tomorrow, everything goes on as before — we'll always be friends."

At this point, Zhang Zhongqi recalled something else: "There is one thing, though, brother, that you must be careful about."

Kong Youde, seeing the other party's gentle manner and an expression that said "understanding is paramount," felt his own tension ease considerably: "Please, sir, instruct me."

"As the saying goes, if the ruler is not discreet, he loses his minister; if the minister is not discreet, he loses his life. When you go to make arrangements, brother, you must be extremely careful not to let any word leak out."

Saying this, Zhang Zhongqi leaned back in his chair, casually picked up his teacup, and said: "If anything goes wrong, I, your elder brother, can simply board a ship and sail away. His Majesty is generous, and Lord Cao likely wouldn't say much either. But you, brother, living under another's roof — at that point, it would be rather difficult to explain to the court."

"So the scoundrel understands perfectly well!" Kong Youde knew full well that he had already set half a foot onto the pirate ship and been stained with indigo. Yet just as the other party had said, isolated and powerless as he was, he had no right to bargain with any power base right now. So Kong Youde could only bow deeply, turn around, and exit the cabin door.

For the remainder of that night, the journey was uneventful.

In the second half of the night, the fleet conducted routine nighttime drills in the waters off Dengzhou and invited the guests to observe. By this time, however, Kong Youde was distracted and in no mood to watch exercises; he excused himself early on grounds of feeling unwell and returned to his cabin to rest.

Early the next morning, the fleet entered the Dengzhou Naval Gate, returned to port, and dropped anchor.

After bidding farewell to their host, the Dongjiang Generals mounted the horses brought over by their personal soldiers who had long been waiting at the dock. With a clatter of hooves, they rode out of the city and soon returned to the military camp outside the city walls.

Once here, this was the territory of Kong Youde and his peers. So after dismounting, the men quickly entered and went into the camp commander's residence. Upon reaching the innermost room, Kong Youde dismissed all his personal soldiers and household staff, then turned and bolted the door behind him.

Geng Zhongming, who had already picked up on Kong Youde's hints on the road, saw his brother's actions — as if facing a formidable enemy — and immediately realized that contact had been made with the Southerners. Excitement filled his brow as he eagerly opened his mouth and asked: "Worthy brother, have things taken shape?"

"Taken shape?"

Kong Youde, however, showed no excitement at this moment. Instead, he looked as if all his strength had been drained, his shoulder leaning against the door. He gave a bitter laugh and said: "They've taken shape, all right — big shape."

A while later, after listening to Kong Youde's account, the several men were just as dumbstruck as they had been the night before. For a long time, no one said a word.

How to put this — it was a bit like a certain tiger being publicly chosen to go hunting, only to accidentally drag back a dinosaur, and a dinosaur that had roasted itself, sprinkled itself with salt and sesame seeds, and lain down at the entrance of the tiger's den. The tiger's den was now somewhat at a loss, unsure how to deal with it.

The status of these runaway generals of the East River faction within the Dongjiang Garrison back in the day had basically been divided according to the "sons and nephews" that Mao Wenlong had acknowledged.

Men like Kong Youde and Geng Zhongming were Mao Wenlong's adopted sons, while Li Jiucheng was an adopted grandson — so their seniority and standing had been set back then.

Because Kong Youde had been one of the adopted sons most valued by Mao Wenlong back in the day, this lineage had passed down, and he was now the nominal spokesman of the Runaway Clan.

Now the spokesman needed everyone to offer their opinions.

In the end, Geng Zhongming, who had been the most enthusiastic about contacting the Southerners, after deep thought, slowly fixed his gaze on Kong Youde and said, "This matter must be handled with caution! We have finally settled down in Dengzhou with great difficulty — why should we pull chestnuts out of the fire for that lord?"

Everyone was taken aback when they heard this: no one had expected that Geng Zhongming, who had originally shown the warmest enthusiasm, would now sing a cold tune instead.

Unexpectedly, the next moment, someone let out two dry, mirthless laughs: "Brother Yuntai, don't put gold leaf on your own face. They have whole ships of cannons, firearms, grain, and silver — would they still need us homeless curs to pull chestnuts out of the fire?"

"In my view," that voice rang out coldly again, "that fellow surnamed Cao is simply placing an idle piece on the board, no different from keeping a dog."