Chapter 309: Reckless and Impetuous Wu Sangui

The first day of the first year of the Yongchang era, seen from today, is a watershed that cannot be ignored.

That day was not only the moment when the hot-air balloon carried the Great Ming's ambition into the sky, but also the moment when the "patent system" — that cornerstone of modern technological development — was set in motion. That day was the first time the Great Ming, before its many tributary states, proclaimed the policy of "extending royal civilization."

That day, the Way of science, by means of spectacular marvels too vast to overlook, began to overturn the stale preconceptions in people's minds.

Economic prosperity, technological takeoff, cultural transformation, and diplomatic assertiveness all began on this day, weaving together into a vast net that propelled the Great Ming Empire toward modernization.

This day marked the beginning of the Great Ming Empire's escape from the cycle of rise and fall that governed feudal dynasties.

It marked, even more, the beginning of the decades-long "Yongchang Spring."

—Excerpt from A Modern History of the World, Chapter One: "The Imperial Spring"

Those who step outside history to observe it always seem like sages.

But those caught within the torrential currents of history often cannot see the change at all.

Most of them simply drift with the current, utterly unaware of where the road ahead leads.

Yet, all the same, there are always a few keen and perceptive souls.

Standing on the riverbank, they catch the scent of a coming storm upstream from nothing more than the churning spray and foam;

from the water's sudden murkiness, they foresee the deluge about to come surging down.

Outside Shanhai Pass, at Tiechang Fort.

A small courtyard built of grey brick, though far from luxurious, was already quite respectable within this military fort.

The cold wind howled, stinging faces raw.

In the courtyard, the fort's hereditary military households were lined up in a queue that, at first glance, snaked all the way around the street.

Most of their padded cotton coats were washed so pale they were nearly white, worn through in places to reveal the matted, blackened old cotton wadding inside, looking thin and shabby. The crowd was shivering with cold, and many kept bringing their hands to their mouths to blow warm air.

Their hands, every one of them, were covered with many red, swollen, purple-tinged chilblains.

Yet even so, every face was beaming with joy.

And standing to one side of the line was a man dressed in a blue scholar's robe.

It was none other than the Chiliarch of Ningyuan Guard and Garrison Commander of Tiechang Fort — Wu Xiang, Wu Lianghuan.

He was a little over thirty. Though he wore a scholar's robes, his back was ramrod straight and his eyes were keen, without the slightest air of bookish frailty. An old steward stood before the rice vat, holding a measuring dipper and portioning out rice to the soldiers who came forward.

"Many thanks, Lord Battalion Commander! Many thanks, Lord Battalion Commander!"

An old soldier, his face etched with weather and hardship, stepped forward. Taking the sack of rice, which was neither too heavy nor too light, he hastily made to kneel and kowtow.

Wu Xiang stepped forward and caught the old soldier firmly by both arms, smiling.

"Old Li, your legs are bad — what are you kneeling for?"

"Take this rice home and cook some thick congee for those two grandsons of yours. Don't keep letting the children go hungry."

Old Li, tactfully playing along, said, "The noble Battalion Commander actually still remembers my two little lads..."

"How could I not remember?" Wu Xiang clapped him on the shoulder, his tone casual yet intimate. "Last year he took a tumble right in front of my horse. I was the one who scooped him up."

The soldiers around them all laughed at this, and the somewhat stiff atmosphere immediately loosened up considerably.

Wu Xiang turned his head again and pointed at another, sturdier fellow.

"And you, Zhao the Second."

"I hear you hurt your leg hunting a few days ago? You'll get an extra half-dipper of rice later. Get your body healed up — don't let it hold you back when spring drills start." The singled-out Zhao the Second was overwhelmed by the favor and immediately straightened his back. "Thank you, my lord, for your concern! This one will give his all come spring!"

Wu Xiang went down the line greeting them one by one like this. Though he spoke only a few words to each, he could call every man by name and mention a trivial family matter or two.

He looked upon these simple, honest faces, his own expression full of warm goodwill, but his mind was utterly calm.

This Tiechang Fort was no more than five hundred li from the capital.

A long journey, taken slowly, took ten days; made quickly, six or seven.

Official dispatches arrived in three days, and that newly erected telegraph, more terrifyingly still, arrived in an instant. The capital's storm of new policies had been blowing for nearly half a year now. Here in the lands of Liaodong, the clever men on both sides of the pass were no fools — how could they possibly remain unmoved?

Supreme Commander Sun had taken up his post again, yet did nothing at all beyond mustering and drilling the troops, dispatching scouts, and pressing for the repair of city walls. On the surface, all seemed harmonious. And yet... why had Loyalty Tales of the Liao Seas suddenly stopped updating right at a point so similar to the "Battle of Liuhe"?

Was it truly out of regard for Supreme Commander Sun's reputation?

He, Wu Xiang, did not believe that for a single moment!

A publication as critically important as the Great Ming Times — how could it possibly print something recklessly, and then halt publication just as recklessly, without having thought it through?

How would that Yi Juechai fellow dare to brave the resentment of the entire realm and stop updating for so long?!

The situation in between was clearly one of a butcher's knife poised to fall but not yet falling — a state of pent-up momentum ready to be unleashed.

But beneath the butcher's knife, alongside danger, there naturally lay opportunity as well.

He was a mere Garrison Commander and Chiliarch. By his own reckoning, when it came to corruption, he was not beyond the pale; when it came to ability, he far surpassed many of those soft-boned wastrels who owed their positions to hereditary privilege.

Why shouldn't he be able to ride these winds and waves?

He dared not do anything too out of line, for fear of implicating the power behind him — the Zu family of Liaodong.

But slowly, spending a little money, bestowing small favors, bit by bit building up this reputation — perhaps at some future critical juncture, it would be the talisman that saved his life, or even the stepping-stone to advancement.

Wu Xiang, courtesy name Lianghuan.

The two characters "Lianghuan" — "Two Rings" — had a classical allusion behind them.

Han Xuanzi once received a jade ring, but its matching pair remained in the possession of a merchant from the state of Zheng.

For this reason, Han Xuanzi demanded the other ring from the Count of Zheng.

In the end, the chief minister Zichan sternly refused, rebuffing him on the grounds that "to seize such petty profit would be to forfeit good faith and righteousness."

This single principle was precisely the teaching that one must not covet small gains, but must establish trust and reputation.

Yet Zichan made this decision also because if a great power made an improper demand and Zheng readily acquiesced, it would then have no grounds to refuse the other great powers.

Therefore, if one meant to refuse, one had to refuse from the very start, without entertaining any hope of luck — otherwise, one would retreat three steps for every four advances, and there would be no end to it.

And if one meant to place a bet, one naturally had to bet decisively, without wavering between two ends.

But what troubled Wu Xiang now... was that he did not know where to place his bet.

He didn't even know if he could get a seat at the table in the first place.

Just then, a servant hurried in from outside the courtyard, came straight to Wu Xiang's side, and said in a low voice,

"Master, someone has come from Grand Commandant Zu's residence."

Wu Xiang's expression did not change; even the smile at the corner of his mouth did not diminish in the slightest.

"Bring it."

Wu Xiang took the letter.

The envelope was utterly ordinary, without even a sender's name on it, and the wax seal had been pressed carelessly, giving it a somewhat hasty look.

Without betraying any emotion, he tucked the letter into his sleeve, turned to the crowd, and said with a smile,

"Everyone, continue collecting your rice. Those who have finished, head home early — don't keep your families waiting anxiously."

"Steward, keep an eye on things as well. No short measures."

The steward hastily replied, "Rest assured, Master, there will only be more, never less."

The hereditary military households in the courtyard beamed with joy at these words.

In times like these, to have an officer like Chiliarch Wu, who did not squeeze their pay too harshly and still showed consideration for military households, was truly a stroke of luck. As expected of an official who had passed the jinshi examination — he handled matters with more decency than others!

"Chiliarch Wu, fortune in the new year! We kowtow to you!"

Someone took the lead, and several dozen people made to kneel down again in unison.

Standing beneath the eaves, Wu Xiang cupped his hands repeatedly, his face wreathed in smiles, and called out loudly,

"Fortune in the new year! Fortune in the new year! Shared joy to all!" Amid a chorus of cheers, he slowly turned around and walked with unhurried steps into the rear hall.

The moment he entered the room, the smile on Wu Xiang's face instantly vanished.

He tore open the envelope and drew out the letter.

There were only a few scrawled lines on the paper, clearly written in haste:

The imperial envoy has left the capital and will arrive within two days.

"It has come at last..." Wu Xiang let out a long sigh.

That feeling of the boot that had been hanging over his head finally dropping — it loosened the string in his heart that had been taut for months, relaxing him in this very moment instead. He walked over to the brazier and held the letter close to the charcoal fire.

The flames licked at the paper, and in an instant it was reduced to ash.

Wu Xiang stirred the ashes a few times with the fire tongs, and only when he was certain that not even a scrap of paper was legible did he straighten up.

"Someone."

He called out.

The trusted man who had delivered the letter immediately pushed open the door and entered.

"Go..."

Wu Xiang was about to speak, but the words reached his lips and he swallowed them back.

At a time like this, any unusual movement would seem suspicious instead.

He, Wu Xiang, had never intended to do anything in the first place — best not to stir up trouble and get himself soiled.

With that thought, he changed tack and said flatly,

"Go ask the steward how many names on the roster still haven't come to collect their rice."

"Have the families who already collected and left go back and notify each other — those who haven't come yet should hurry over."

"A new year, new policies. Though the newness has yet to reach Liaodong, here within Iron Fort, we can start making things a little newer ourselves."

The trusted man was slightly taken aback, not quite grasping the meaning for a moment.

Who wouldn't scramble to come for free rice? Every household would be fighting to get here — what need was there to urge them?

But he still replied respectfully,

"Yes, Master thinks of everything. This humble one will go at once."

Wu Xiang waved his hand, dismissing him.

"Thinks of everything... ah..."

He sighed deeply. For a moment, not knowing what else he could do, he had no choice but to pick up the thick stack of the Great Ming Times from the table and begin poring over it again. After about half a shichen, the door was pushed open with force.

A gust of cold wind surged in, along with the booming, energetic voice of a youth.

"Father, it has all been distributed!"

The newcomer was none other than Wu Xiang's second son, Wu Sangui.

He wore a close-fitting martial tunic with arrow sleeves, a scarlet cape draped over his shoulders, and a goose-quill saber hanging at his waist.

His elder brother, Wu Sanfeng, was currently serving under Zu Tianshou in Ningyuan and would not be able to return for the New Year.

So at home, there was only this fifteen-year-old monkey.

Fifteen — the perfect age for adolescent posturing... truly a creature loathed by men and shunned by dogs.

"No mishaps?" Wu Xiang turned to look at his son.

Wu Sangui casually unfastened his cape and tossed it aside, strode over to the stove, rubbed his reddened hands, and said offhandedly,

"Those uncles all watched me grow up. What mishaps could there be?"

"Only, everyone was curious — in past years, Father always distributed it himself. Why didn't Father go this year, sending me instead?"

Wu Xiang walked to the table and sat down, took a sip from his teacup, and asked, "What did you tell them?"

Wu Sangui grinned, flashing a row of white teeth:

"Of course I said what Father taught me — that with the new policies loving the people, our Wu family must also keep pace with His Majesty and treat the affairs of the military households as a matter of the highest importance. When those uncles heard that, every one of them was moved beyond words, all praising Father's benevolence."

Wu Xiang nodded, set down his teacup, and after a moment of silence, suddenly spoke:

"They have come."

Wu Sangui's hands, which had been warming over the fire, paused slightly. He caught on in an instant, and a glint of excitement flashed in his eyes:

"That legendary Pay Audit Squad?"

He spun around abruptly, eagerness rising in him:

"Well now, they've finally come! The whole Liaodong left flank has been talking about them for half a year — they say every man was picked by the same standards as that Imperial Inspector Li in the *Tales of the Loyal on the Liao Sea*."

"Every one of them with a face like crowned jade, able to pierce a willow leaf at a hundred paces."

"With rumors this outlandish, I've got to see what kind of deeds they'll accomplish!"

Watching his son's impetuous manner, Wu Xiang frowned slightly and chided him:

"You can still laugh?"

"These are imperial inspectors — they come bearing the Sword of Authority!"

Wu Sangui curled his lip, utterly dismissive:

"So what if they carry the Sword of Authority? We haven't rebelled."

"In this Liaodong territory, whose backside is clean? Compared to those fellows who drink soldiers' blood till their mouths drip grease, our Wu family's table manners are downright presentable."

"Besides, Uncle is up there holding the line. Kill the chicken to warn the monkey — no matter what, they won't be killing this monkey."

Wu Xiang listened and shook his head.

His son had valor enough, and his horsemanship, archery, and military tactics were exceedingly well-practiced — but when it came to political instinct, he was still far too green.

"You're oversimplifying things."

Wu Xiang sighed and spoke with earnest gravity:

"Everything I told you yesterday — did it all go in one ear and out the other?"

"When Xiong Tingbi, Master Xiong, took office back then, how many military officers did he impeach? Twenty-seven!"

"Later, when Eunuch Wei's man took over, another thirty-two were impeached!"

"Supreme Commander Sun, Governor Yuan — which governor-general or grand coordinator ever took office without first taking a military officer's head to establish authority?"

Wu Sangui picked at his ear with some impatience:

"Father, you've told these moldy old stories eight hundred times..."

"Governor Wang has been here four months now, and he hasn't really killed anyone, has he?"

Wu Xiang was practically laughing from sheer exasperation. "Wang Zhichen — what does he even count for? He's nothing but a stopgap paperhanger!"

"Not recommended by the court, not personally appointed by the Emperor — how can he be considered a true Supreme Commander?!"

Seeing that his father seemed genuinely angered, Wu Sangui pulled in his neck, not daring to talk back — but still muttered under his breath:

"This won't do, that won't do — small fry like us, what's the use of thinking so much..."

His eyes darted, and he suddenly leaned in close to Wu Xiang, grinning cheekily:

"Father, don't always be boosting others' morale and undercutting your own."

"Don't you always say His Majesty is a wise sovereign? If he's a wise sovereign, then he surely rewards and punishes with clear discernment."

"We earn our keep by real skill — bow and horse skills honed in genuine combat. Can we really be worse than Wang Shiqin, that wastrel who rides on his father's prestige?" At this, Wu Sangui puffed out his chest, his face full of pride:

"Father, you were a military *jinshi* in the second year of Tianqi."

"And I, Wu Sangui — I won't claim to surpass the master, but I'm not far behind, am I?"

"In the first year of Yongchang, I'll pass the military examination — I'm determined to take it!"

"When the time comes, one family with two *jinshi* — I refuse to believe that in this new order, there won't be a place for us, father and son, to set our feet!"