Chapter 11: The Shack, Part Two

Lu Lvzi's eyes lit up as he listened to the story Chen Xin spun, and he looked at Chen Xin with a touch of admiration. "Brother Chen, you say I can take on three or four Tatars — if Brother Dai and I go to Liaodong to enlist, could we really carve out a future?"

Dai Zhenggang shot him a glare and scolded, "If you could really carve out a future, would Brother Chen still need to come to Tianjin? He'd have joined the army back at Shanhai Pass long ago."

Chen Xin laughed heartily, gave Dai Zhenggang a thumbs-up, and kept right on bullshitting. "Brother Dai put it well. Even the so-called elite of the Nine Border Garrisons are pampered officers and lazy soldiers, with corruption running rampant — officers treat soldiers like slaves, and soldiers see officers as enemies. It's not that the Jianzhou Bandits can't be killed, but their military discipline is ironclad, their armor sturdy and their weapons sharp, rewards and punishments are clear, and officers and men fight to the death. On the battlefield, Brother Lu, no matter how fierce you are, you can't beat thousands upon thousands of horses and men. Relying on the Liaodong army to defeat the Jianzhou Bandits is nearly impossible — losing your life, on the other hand, is very likely. I'd advise Brother Lu to keep his precious life and find a better way out."

Dai Zhenggang listened with deep admiration and slapped his thigh. "It's rare for Brother Chen to make it so clear in just a few words. I always felt enlisting wasn't quite right, but I could never put my finger on why — otherwise why would I end up a tracker, taking this crap from the Luo Sect?"

Chen Xin asked, a little puzzled, "What exactly is this Luo Sect? Why would the Canal Guild have to fear it?"

Dai Zhenggang chuckled. "Brother Chen is from Liaodong — it's only natural you wouldn't know about the Luo Sect." He then proceeded to explain what he knew of the Luo Sect and the Canal Guild to Chen Xin.

It turned out the Luo Sect was founded by Luo Menghong during the Chenghua reign. Also called the Wuwei Sect or the Luo Jiao, it took purity and non-action as its guiding principle. Its doctrine was simple and clear, and its scriptures — five sections in six volumes — were all written in plain vernacular, which is why it spread so widely among the common people. The later Green Gang was born out of the Luo Sect. By the late Ming, it held great power along the southern stretch of the Grand Canal, with vast numbers of canal workers among its followers — it was said to "hide a hundred thousand troops along the canal." During the Wanli reign, the Nanjing Ministry of Justice declared it a heretical sect and burned its scripture printing blocks and books.

At this time, the Canal Guild was not yet a unified organization. It was basically made up of people who made their living off the canal, forming gangs and cliques to stand against the officials and local bullies in each region. Every place had its own Canal Guild, and its members joined whatever — the White Lotus Sect, the Wenxiang Sect, the Luo Sect — all mixed together, each embedded in the other.

The formation of a unified Canal Guild didn't happen until the Yongzheng era of "Our Great Qing." By then, the Canal Guild was already too big to fail, and the Qing court had no choice but to co-opt it with official recognition. Later on, the story goes that the Qianlong Emperor, Zheng Shaoqiu, with a dashing flick of his pigtail, had the Canal Guild's chief, Zhao Yazhi, rush up all starry-eyed, grab his hand, and cry, "Fourth Master!" Then Cai Xingjuan would sing softly, "The mountains and rivers cannot bear so much sorrow…" — and that was when, during the Qianlong reign, it developed into a true behemoth. Folk legend even had it that Qianlong himself joined the guild, which shows just how enormous its power was. But right now, it was still just a heap of loose sand.

After Dai Zhenggang finished explaining, he added, "We've offended the Luo Sect, so now we can't even make a living on the canal. And as Brother Chen said, enlisting isn't a good path either. I truly don't know what to do."

Liu Minyou couldn't help asking, "Surely you have land back home or something? Didn't Brother Qi also tell you to go back and farm?"

A tracker beside them said with some grief and indignation, "We used to scratch a living from the dirt. In a whole year, we hardly dared rest a single day. When we finally managed to harvest the grain, we had to find a grain merchant to exchange it for silver to pay taxes. He'd use the 'buying scale' — one shi required over two hundred jin, seventy or eighty jin more than the official scale. After paying the regular tax and the Liaodong Tax, then we'd repay loans. What was left still had to cover corvée fees. Besides me, my father is over sixty, and every year he still has to pay one shi of grain just to avoid conscription. After a whole year of busting our humps, once all that was paid, there was almost nothing left. When the grain ran out, we had no choice but to borrow again. We'd take the loan to the grain shop to buy rice, and those damned grain merchants would use the 'selling scale' — one shi was only eighty or ninety jin, damn it. Except for New Year's, we never ate a full meal."

Er Tun, who was lying down, also chimed in. "We've actually got it pretty good. Huang Yuan's family are tenant farmers — they harvest grain today and run out tomorrow. Last year they were forced to sell his youngest sister, and all they got was a few shi of grain. The year before, there was a household whose harvest wasn't even enough to repay the usury. All seven family members hanged themselves that night. Every single year it grinds you down like this. Brother Chen, tell me, how can anyone still farm this land?"

Chen Xin and Liu Minyou listened in somber silence. The crushing oppression these peasants endured was beyond anything they had ever heard. To Chen Xin, the backstory he had fabricated already seemed pitiable enough, but the lives of these people carried an even deeper, inexpressible gloom and helplessness — a ceaseless drifting between bare survival and utter ruin.

Dai Zhenggang continued, "Otherwise, who'd be willing to leave their home and become a damned tracker? On the North Canal, a tracking run has to reach its destination in four days — no exceptions. If the boat owner doesn't call a halt, you don't dare stop even when the rope pulls your shoulders bloody. And even then, there are still people who won't let you do the work. Is there really no place under this vast sky that can hold us poor folk?"

His words were steeped in profound dejection. All the trackers lowered their heads. The one called Huang Yuan sobbed softly. Liu Minyou's eyes grew moist — his own parents were farmers, and he loved these simple, honest people. China's peasants were the most hardworking, most enduring people on earth. So long as there was the faintest glimmer of hope, the narrowest path to survival, they could endure the harshest exploitation without a shred of dignity. They lived on and on, generation after generation, tilling and multiplying on this land, providing an unending stream of nourishment for Chinese civilization.

In the late Ming, land annexation was severe. Imperial princes, rural gentry, civil officials, military officers — all made a practice of seizing official and military lands, and the brazen theft of private land was a common sight. They basically paid no land tax. The bulk of the land tax fell on independent farmers. Local government offices dreamed up endless pretexts to levy miscellaneous taxes, colluding with grain merchants and usurers — big measures for buying, small measures for selling — forcing large numbers of independent farmers into either servitude or bankruptcy. In many parts of the north, peasants, unable to bear it, fled in droves, leaving vast tracts of farmland to go to waste. To meet their performance evaluations, local officials had no choice but to spread the tax burden of those who fled onto the heads of those who remained. Those who remained were even less able to bear it, creating a vicious cycle. There were even cases where someone with a hundred mu of farmland, after paying the land tax, still ended up in debt. Eventually, there were countless people trying to sell their land, but pitifully few buyers. Land prices dropped as low as two taels per mu.

On top of that, the Jianzhou Bandits were causing chaos, and the added Liaodong Tax made the situation even worse. Selling children had become utterly commonplace. At the worst point, selling a daughter only fetched enough to buy one shi of grain. So although men like Lu Lvzi didn't understand the reasons, they felt that farming was getting harder and harder. No matter how hard they worked, they couldn't feed their families. As all manner of power and violence stripped away their dignity, their loved ones, their property, or their lives, bit by bit, hatred was rapidly brewing and fermenting.

By the Tianqi reign, the entire north had reached a tipping point. The last shred of meager hope still propped up those who remained, maintaining a precarious balance — just waiting for that final straw to fall.

Seeing the heavy mood, Chen Xin hastily changed the subject and urged, "Brother Dai, don't overthink it. Brother Liu here and I once couldn't even afford pants. We've been through harder times and come out the other side. A living man won't be done in by his own piss. I heard what you and Brother Lu said earlier about the money for wound medicine. I may not be rich, but I happen to be able to help a little."

With that, Chen Xin pulled from his coat two silver ingots, each weighing five taels, and held them out to Dai Zhenggang.

Dai Zhenggang quickly pushed them back. "Brother Chen, you mustn't. You've already helped us, and now you offer such a heavy gift — I don't know when I could ever repay it. Though I felt like an old friend the moment I met you, I cannot accept more of your kindness."

Chen Xin put on a stern face and said angrily, "If we're old friends at first sight, why act like a bashful maiden? Take it when I tell you to take it. You mean to watch your brother end up a cripple? If you want to call me a friend, say no more. Take it and go fetch a physician — that's the proper thing to do."

Dai Zhenggang's eyes reddened. He accepted the silver without further fuss, then solemnly bowed to the two of them with clasped hands and said, "Dai Tiezi here thanks you both, benefactors. From now on, whatever you two need, just say the word — through water or fire, I, Dai Tiezi, won't so much as furrow my brow." The other trackers also offered their thanks profusely. Ten taels of silver was no small sum in this era.

Only then did Chen Xin smile again. "That's more like it. I'll be staying in Tianjin a few more days — I'll come see you when I have time. Don't delay any longer; go fetch a physician to treat the wounds right away, especially the broken hand — if you wait too long, it won't set properly."

Someone immediately went to fetch a physician. Liu Minyou specifically instructed Dai Zhenggang to use cloth boiled in water to bandage the wounds. After that, he and Chen Xin took their leave, bringing their four attendants with them as they departed.

Once Chen Xin and the others were far off, Lu Lvzi clicked his tongue in wonder and said to Dai Zhenggang, "That Young Master Chen is really something. Not only is he generous, he's got money too — ten taels just like that. And he's even a Licentiate, no less. Say, if I went to follow Young Master Chen, do you think he'd take me on?"

Dai Zhenggang scratched his head and replied, "This Young Master Chen is warm-hearted, sure, and he's got a temperament that suits me, but we don't even know what he does. Why didn't you ask?"

Lu Lvzi froze for a second, then smacked his own head. "Right! How come we didn't even ask what he does?"

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After the two had walked a stretch, Liu Minyou finally asked Chen Xin, "Thinking of recruiting more underlings? Is it really worth putting down this much capital?"

"It is. The boatmen and trackers on the canal all have to cooperate and divide the work — they naturally possess a collective spirit. They train every day, they're tough and hardworking, physically strong, and fairly brave. They should be some of the best soldier material in this era. Besides, this bunch from Yanggu haven't been at it long and haven't joined any of those messy sects yet."

Liu Minyou looked at Chen Xin in shock. "You really mean to contend for the world? Not going to Jiangnan to drift through life anymore?"

Chen Xin chuckled. "Don't you think two vagabonds like us talking about contending for the world is a bit too ridiculous? Even being a landlord means you need guards for your manor and estate. In chaotic times, military force is more reliable than gold. Given our current circumstances, it's too early to talk about recruiting them as underlings. Let's just build a connection first. We'll take it one step at a time."

Liu Minyou also knew that talking about contending for the world right now was bullshit. The sorrow from earlier still hadn't faded from his heart, and he couldn't help adding, "The people are suffering this much — what good is the Ming Dynasty anyway? It deserves to be overthrown."

Chen Xin grinned and replied, "That doesn't mean a bunch of slave owners should get to rule the world. If that day ever comes, I sure as hell won't be a slave. If it really comes down to it, we'll buy a boat and head for some Pacific island."

"I won't be a slave either. In my heart, freedom matters more than life. But if we go to an island, we'd just end up as savages."

Chen Xin winked. "We'll island-hop, one after another — leapfrog tactics. Hop, hop, hop, and we'll hop right to America. We'll look around — ah, no Coast Guard, no customs either. We'll just stroll in without a visa, and then we'll be too lazy to leave. We'll each stake out a piece of land on the West Coast — I'll take Los Angeles, you take San Francisco. Haven't you always wanted to go to America? God, we'll finally be Americans. I'll even give you an American name — Liu-ashington, first President of the United States. Amen."

Liu Minyou stayed silent for a while, then suddenly said to Chen Xin, "When I crossed over, I really should have brought a pair of stockings."

"What for? To sell for money?"

"For the next time you try to hang yourself — easier to use, saves you from using your pants again and failing to die."

"Bro, you're ruthless. But stockings are so thin, they'd still snap for sure."

"Nah, I'd buy the brand Sanmao uses."

Chen Xin: "......"