Chapter 321: Hibernation

Zu Dashou swung down from his horse and casually tossed his riding crop to the servant who came forward to greet him.

He paid no attention to the flattery inside the residence, striding straight toward the study with long, rapid steps.

These past few days, he had been following along with the pay-inspection team the entire time.

At first, those Embroidered Uniform Guard men and constables from the capital kept an extremely tight watch — even when you went to relieve yourself, someone was watching.

But after they passed Ningyuan, public feeling in Liaodong began boiling over like a cauldron of water.

Corrupt officers and those who pocketed empty pay slots were arrested and interrogated one after another; there was simply no way to keep the news contained.

That imperial commissioner, Yuan Jixian, was direct enough — he simply relaxed the restrictions on Regional Commanders and Vice Regional Commanders like them.

Instead, he required each of them to write letters back to their garrisons, assist in managing military affairs, and strictly prevent corrupt officers from fleeing.

Zu Dashou seized this chance to summon the core members of the Zu family ahead of time and properly arrange the family's next moves.

The many people who had been waiting a long time inside the study all rose to their feet when they saw Zu Dashou enter.

"Elder Brother."

"Elder Brother-in-law."

"Father."

"Honored Father-in-law."

The forms of address varied, but everyone waiting here was the true core strength of the Zu family.

Zu Dabi and Zu Dacheng were his full younger brothers, both now serving as Commandants in the army.

His cousin Zu Dale was also present.

His father, Zu Chengjiao, had died in battle alongside Li Rusong in the twenty-sixth year of Wanli.

His elder brother had also died in battle at the Battle of Sarhu.

Now he alone remained to inherit the rank, sitting there as straight as a javelin.

Further back were his adopted son from a distant relative, Zu Runze, and Zu Dashou's sole flesh-and-blood son — Zu Zepu, who just last year had been granted the hereditary rank of Centurion for military merit at Ningyuan.

Last of all sat his brother-in-law Wu Xiang, born of a merchant family, and the Mongol White Arm, who had married Zu Dashou's daughter.

One of these two held the trade route from Jiangnan to Ningyuan, the other was linked to the lifeblood of the Gongtu tribe beyond the passes — both were important members of the Zu family's business network. Zu Dashou sat down in the seat of honor with an imposing, confident air.

He picked up the cup of tea from the table, tilted his head back, and drained it in one gulp.

After that, there was a long silence.

The others, not understanding what this was about, exchanged glances and then each took their seats.

Zu Dashou was not being deliberately mysterious.

In his mind, he was going over the things he had seen and heard these past few days, again and again.

The anxiety when he went to the assembly, the trembling when the Son of Heaven himself called him out by name, the thunderous methods he witnessed all along the pay-inspection route, and that Hebei folk tune everyone was humming, which he had just heard at a roadside tea stall…

Every single thing was churning in his heart.

After a moment, he finally sorted through his tangled thoughts, raised his eyes, and swept his gaze over everyone present.

"Have you all… seen that Valiant Guard Camp?"

The words had barely left his mouth when Zu Dabi slapped his thigh and said excitedly:

"How could we not have!"

"Elder Brother, those soldiers are absolutely incredible! Exactly like they were carved straight out of General Qi's military manual!"

"The day before yesterday, at the fifth watch, I took a dozen of my personal household retainers and slipped out of the city in the dark — wanted to get a measure of these Capital Camps young masters."

"And guess what happened?"

"I'd barely gotten within ten li of their main camp when hidden sentries shouted me down! Ten li! In the dead of the twelfth month, and not a single one of them was even dozing!" As soon as he said this, a sharp intake of breath sounded throughout the study.

It was not amazement at the Valiant Guard Camp's quality, but amazement at Zu Dabi's nerve.

This Zu the Second Madman — originally the old master had set him on the path of the civil examinations to win an official degree.

But after the defeat at Guangning, he used the pretext of going to Juehua Island to persuade Zu Dashou, and directly cast aside his brush for the sword.

Once he took command of troops, he was like a wild dog off its leash.

He ate and slept alongside his household retainers, and in battle he howled as he led the charge — a man in his thirties, yet he still acted on nothing but raw, reckless courage. Zu Dashou's brow furrowed sharply, and he barked out a harsh rebuke:

"Shut your mouth!"

"Leaving your post without authorization, spying on the imperial commissioner's troops — you dare to blab about a capital offense like that openly here?!"

Zu Dacheng was also badly startled and quickly urged:

"He's right, Second Brother. If some Embroidered Uniform Guard spy overheard this and reported it,"

"they could casually charge you with intent to rebel, and our whole family would lose their heads along with you!"

Zu Dabi, scolded, gave an embarrassed grin and rubbed the back of his head, but still could not help muttering:

"I was just curious…"

"But Elder Brother, I've truly never seen a unit like this in Liaodong."

"It's so rare — methodical in every move, disciplined in advance and retreat, truly just like the 'still as a wooden rooster' described in the manuals, not a trace of disorder." The others, hearing this, also nodded in agreement.

The Valiant Guard Camp had made no small commotion on its journey north; everyone here was an expert at leading troops and had naturally taken note.

Posting sentries, making camp, drilling — their discipline was terrifyingly strict.

Even after they struck camp and left, their filling and burying of the latrine pits and refuse on the site was exactly as the manuals prescribed, without the slightest deviation!

Zu Dashou sighed, leaned forward slightly, and lowered his voice.

"I was inside the army, close to them — I saw more closely than you did."

He paused, then uttered a single sentence:

"They… have no household retainers."

The study instantly fell silent. Everyone present was a Liaodong military boss, and they understood all too well the weight of those four words.

In Liaodong, the rule was that an officer's fighting strength depended entirely on those few dozen or hundred elite household retainers — men who ate from the best pot and drew the heaviest rewards.

Without your household retainers, who would risk their lives for you?

Zu Dabi's brow knotted into a tight scowl.

"This doesn't add up, Big Brother!"

"In Liaodong warfare, cavalry charges depend on the household retainers as the spearhead. How do you fight without them?"

"Back when Grandfather Qi held the Ji Garrison, I never heard of him abolishing household retainers."

"Have these fellows from the capital read their military manuals until their brains went soft?"

Zu Dashou slowly shook his head, a deep wariness flickering in his eyes.

"They don't call them household retainers."

"They call it the Indoctrination Camp."

"From every company, they pick the best of the best, the bravest of the brave. Out of every thousand-man battalion, they single out fifty of the most outstanding."

"In peacetime, these men are responsible for enforcing military discipline, teaching martial skills, and… teaching literacy."

"When battle comes, those fifty are the shock troops, the blade-tip that breaks the enemy line — charging at the very front!"

Wu Xiang, who had stayed silent until now, caught the strange part and asked, puzzled:

"Brother-in-law, teaching martial skills I understand. What's this about teaching literacy?"

"Teaching whom? Company Commanders or File Leaders?"

Zu Dashou shook his head again and uttered two words:

"Everyone."

He watched Wu Xiang's stunned expression and continued:

"Their army has issued a little booklet called Eight Hundred Common Characters, along with some method of spelling out sounds."

"The military order states it plainly: anyone who can read through and recognize the characters gets an extra mace of silver a month — a 'literacy stipend' — and priority in promotion. And when the grand examination comes this third month, anyone who still can't read a single character, from Company Commander on up, will be dismissed without exception!"

"I had someone quietly make inquiries…"

"This rule began rolling out in the tenth month of last year. Barely two months in, and already three out of every ten men in the Valiant Guard Camp are drawing this extra pay." Zu Dashou's gaze slowly shifted, finally settling on the dumbfounded face of the Mongol, White Arm.

"According to that deputy imperial commissioner, Sun Chuanting…"

"Among those drawing the pay, three are even pure Mongol men — fellows who originally could barely speak Chinese and didn't know a single character. They got that literacy stipend purely by grinding away and memorizing the book by rote these past two months."

Everyone drew a sharp breath.

A thirty-percent rate was not, in itself, all that astonishing in the north.

Plenty of common folk could recognize their own names, numbers, and the characters for oil, salt, soy, and vinegar.

What was terrifying was this kind of relentless, all-out execution!

Zu Zepu swallowed hard and hesitantly spoke:

"Father… the way you tell it, doesn't this sound even more uncanny than what Grandfather Qi did back then?"

"Grandfather Qi's military manuals, at most, had soldiers memorize regulations and commands by rote. Where's the sense in forcing common foot-soldiers to read and write?" Zu Dashou let out a long sigh and leaned back in his chair.

"That is precisely why I called you all here in such haste today."

"These past few days I have watched from the sidelines — watched the Valiant Guard Camp's conduct, watched the imperial commissioners' methods, and then pondered those assessment rules and regulations the Son of Heaven himself devised… It leaves me deeply uneasy."

"Our Zu family must rethink its calculations."

Zu Dabi, a man of blunt temperament, slapped the table and stood.

"Big Brother, just say it plainly — what do you want us brothers to do!"

"A few months back you said the wind was shifting and told everyone to keep their tails tucked tight. Didn't we all obediently do just that?"

"Those brainless fools among the distant cousins who wouldn't listen are still nailed inside Ningyuan's jail right now!"

Zu Dashou ignored his second brother's bluster.

The Zu family's roots ran deep in Liaodong. Ever since the Yongle Emperor's time, when they received the hereditary rank of Centurion, they had been planted in this black earth.

But if you really traced their rise, it began with his father, Zu Chengxun.

The old man had enlisted as a military dependent, following Regional Commander Li Rusong through campaigns north and south.

In the third year of Longqing, he took a head and was promoted to Squad Leader; in the fifth year, another head and he rose to Platoon Leader; in the second year of Wanli, he became a Probationary Centurion…

Every inch of this family estate was carved out blade by blade, staked with their lives.

Once the main branch rose, distant cousins and remote relations naturally flocked in like wolves scenting blood.

But when the forest grows large, every sort of bird appears. There are clever ones, and naturally, stupid ones too.

Zu Dashou's fingers tapped lightly on the tabletop as he said in a low voice:

"What I mean is…"

"The business beyond the passes — suspend it all for now. Let us watch which way the wind blows."

At these words, the study fell deathly silent.

The Zu family's income came in three streams: the court's official stipends, the embezzled pay from skimming the troops, and the trade between the passes and beyond.

The official stipends were a pittance, not even enough to pick one's teeth — hardly worth mentioning.

The embezzlement from the troops varied in scale.

Back when Liaodong first erupted in crisis and the court was pouring twenty million taels of silver into this region every year, that income stream had even outstripped the family's trade.

But once Liaodong stabilized and the Liaodong levy was fixed at roughly five million taels, that money was mostly channeled into maintaining the household retainers.

So, when you truly reckoned it up, trade was now the real lion's share of the Zu family's various incomes!

At this, even White Arm, who had been a ghostly silent presence all along, could no longer sit still.

He was the one who maintained ties with the Gongtu tribe. If this trade route was severed, it was not a matter of earning a few taels less. The Mongol chieftains cared nothing for the court's laws and statutes — if there were no goods to deliver, they would speak with their blades!

"Father-in-law, surely it hasn't come to such a pass?"

Bai Bi wrung his hands in agitation:

"That rumor about the tax police — your son-in-law has heard it too."

"But didn't they say it still needs time to prepare?"

"On this Liaodong frontier, which military house doesn't dabble in trade? We can't all cut off our livelihoods just because the court issued a piece of paper." "Besides, we trade with the Dodo Te and Kharchin tribes — we never sold to the Jianzhou Jurchens. What is there to fear?"

That argument, in truth, could only fool someone who didn't understand the situation.

In name, Ningyuan only traded with the Mongols.

But selling goods to the Kharchin was one thing.

If you sold to the Dodo Te, sooner or later some of it would flow to Jianzhou.

Especially after the Naiman and Aohan tribes — both also under the Chahar — submitted to Jianzhou, this indirect trade channel had only grown more open. Even if Guntu maintained close ties with the Ming court...

Even if the Chahar tribe had old grievances with Jianzhou...

But if even the Ming people themselves couldn't bear to give up the profits of private trade with Jianzhou, how could anyone expect the Mongols to give it up?

Grievances were grievances; business was business. That was all there was to it.

Bai Bi finished speaking in one breath, expecting someone to back him up.

But when he turned his head, he saw that whether it was the Zu brothers, sons, and nephews, or the shrewd Wu Xiang — every one of them kept silent, looking only at Zu Dashou in the seat of honor. This time, when the court unleashed its pay-inspection storm, quite a few officers from Ningyuan's old established clans — the Pei, Hu, Xia, and others — had been arrested. Only the core members of the Zu clan had come through completely unscathed, because Zu Dashou had ordered them to pull back in advance!

They had even received a "commendation by imperial decree" from the reigning Son of Heaven for it.

That seasoned political judgment had long since won everyone's absolute deference.

Zu Dashou's huge, palm-leaf-fan-like hand rubbed back and forth over his knee. Clearly, cutting away this fat piece of meat was making his heart bleed too.

But a moment later, the hesitation in his eyes was replaced by a flash of ruthlessness.

"Cloth and ginseng! The two biggest items — stop them at once!"

"This wind is wrong. It reeks of trouble. I fear something big is coming."

He looked around at them all, his gaze like a blade:

"Have you all forgotten... how Zu Da died back then?!"

Those light, drifting words exploded in the room, making everyone shudder!

The second year of Tianqi.

Sun Chengzong had just taken up his first posting as Governor of Ji-Liao.

The first fire a new official lights: he tested all officers of Mobile Corps Commander rank and above on their mounted archery, martial skills, and military readiness, then dismissed five unqualified officers on the spot. The second fire: on the charge that their reconnaissance riders had failed to provide adequate screening, he struck off the head of Scout Commander Zhou Shoulian, then cracked down hard on land-based reconnaissance and counter-espionage. The third fire: he reasserted the old ban on maritime trade with Liaodong and strictly prohibited smuggling!

At the time, Zu Dashou's personal household retainer Zu Da, presuming on his master's status, set sail from Juehua Island as usual.

Sun Chengzong caught him on the spot and had him summarily executed!

He didn't even leave a chance to plead for Zu Da's life.

No — if the Zu family hadn't still been useful back then, Zu Dashou himself would likely have been sacrificed to the banners too.

His life, Zu Dashou's life, had been spared from the executioner's blade only because Yuan Chonghuan played the good cop and Sun Chengzong played the bad cop.

Looking at the pale faces around him, Zu Dashou said coldly:

"Back then, the one who killed Zu Da was only Supreme Commander Sun alone."

"He relied on the authority of his supreme command, and with the Liaodong war at a critical point, once he'd done the deed, he still had to depend on us to go risk our lives."

"But what about now?"

"It is the Son of Heaven himself who wants this done."

"And after the last two battles, this Ning-Jin defense line — it can get by with our Zu family, or without us!"

"You lot only know that all under heaven bustles for profit — but you've forgotten that both thunderous fury and gentle rain are the sovereign's grace... and can also be the sovereign's killing stroke!"

He swept his gaze over them and said fiercely:

"Out of so many people, why did he single out my name?"

"Is this the kind of thing you can gamble on? The kind of thing you dare gamble on?"

Zu Dashou wasted no more words. He brought the hammer down:

"Stop everything for three months! Once the court's second round of purge lists comes out, we'll reconsider!"

Since Zu Dashou had spoken to this point,

even though Bai Bi's mouth filled with bitterness, he didn't dare utter half a word of protest. He could only frantically calculate in his mind how to go back and placate those Mongol chieftains. Having hammered the outer circle into line, Zu Dashou began laying out the internal arrangements.

"Lose on the eastern front, gain on the western front."

"This New Policies wind is rising. For others, it's a death warrant. For us, it may well be a stepping stone to advancement."

He looked at his brothers who led troops and called them out by name:

"Dabi, Dacheng, Tianding, Dale!"

"In your respective camps, for these three months, put a stop to all the customary fees and tribute payments from below as well."

"Any shortfall in the household retainer expenses — cover it out of the clan's common property."

"Drill the troops with everything you've got, and cooperate fully with the pay inspection!"

"Strive to get top marks in the grand review in the third month, and then do your utmost to get transferred into that model battalion."

Zu Dacheng looked somewhat puzzled. Hesitantly, he said:

"Eldest Brother... didn't you always teach us that the tree that stands out in the forest is the first to be felled by the wind?"

"If we stop all the customary fees and push ourselves to stand out, aren't you afraid we'll draw too much attention among the Liaodong generals and invite envy and resentment?"

Zu Dashou gave a cold laugh:

"That was then; this is now!" "Once the gale of the New Policies starts blowing, it's no longer a question of whether you want to advance or retreat!"

"Whoever doesn't charge forward will be blown right off the cliff and onto the next arrest list!"

"In the situation today, those who do not reach for the heavens will all be ground to dust! Never mind what others think — just go fight for first place!"

At these words, although the group did not yet know the "prisoner's dilemma" theory circulating in the capital,

they could still grasp the idea.

In the past, there had been an unspoken understanding in Liaodong.

But now… at the very least, the Zu family no longer cared about that understanding and intended to leave first.

Zu Dacheng nodded lightly and said no more.

Zu Dashou turned his head, his gaze falling on Wu Xiang beside him.

"Lianghuan."

Wu Xiang immediately straightened his back. "Brother-in-law, your instructions."

"You passed the military jinshi examination. In the end, you have more learning in your belly than the rest of us."

"Take our usual trade ledgers and methods, study them carefully, and try drafting a 'statecraft memorial.'"

"Once it's written, I'll swallow my pride, go reminisce with Governor Yuan, and ask a personal favor — see if I can get you placed into that newly established tax bureau."

Zu Dashou narrowed his eyes and said,

"Once you're in, don't be in a hurry to line your pockets, and don't even think about favoritism or graft."

"Figuring out exactly where the Son of Heaven's bottom line lies — that is what matters most."

Wu Xiang's heart gave a thump.

It was true that he was a dependent of the Zu family, but he himself was, after all, a military jinshi.

Such a background was already an extremely fine pedigree.

After a few years of experience, his future prospects might not necessarily be worse than Zu Dashou's current standing.

Entering the tax bureau was the sort of matter that directly affected the trajectory of his career. He could not possibly agree outright before thinking it through.

But for the moment, it was difficult to refuse outright.

Wu Xiang weighed his words carefully, doing his best to push the matter further down the road:

"Brother-in-law, I understand your instructions. I'll go back and draft something first, and bring it for you to look over in a few days."

"When the time comes, we can discuss the subsequent arrangements in detail."

Zu Dashou nodded and did not press him too hard.

Finally, his gaze settled on his own son, Zu Zepu, who was shrinking into a corner.

As that gaze swept over him, the back of Zu Zepu's neck went cold, and a deeply ominous premonition surged up within him.

Zu Dashou slapped both hands on his knees and made his decision:

"Tomorrow, I will dispatch riders to race to the capital and buy up every single issue of the Capital Gazette, every official document, and every imperial edict issued since His present Majesty ascended the throne!"

"Once they're bought, you — you will memorize every last word of them!"

"After the new year, apply yourself properly to your books, and do your best to go earn a government student's degree in the examinations next year!"

Zu Zepu's face went green at this, and he protested in a small voice:

"Father… I, I just inherited a Centurion post in the guard station last year. Leading troops is so much better — why should I study…"

Zu Dashou's face darkened, and a cold light flashed in his narrow eyes.

Zu Zepu shuddered in fright and immediately said loudly,

"I'll study! I'll study! After the Lantern Festival, I'll go straight back to the Confucian school and shut myself in with my books!"

Only then did Zu Dashou give a cold snort, withdraw his gaze, and instruct his brothers:

"After the new year, allocate a substantial sum from the clan's common funds and go south of the pass to hire a private tutor with genuine ability."

"All those sons of the clan who are not yet commanding troops and are old enough — pen them all up and make them study themselves to death!"

This was, in fact, something their father Zu Chengxun had been striving to accomplish before his death, so naturally no one raised any objection.

Everything that needed to be said had been said. Zu Dashou waved his hand, signaling for everyone to withdraw.

The study door was closed once more.

The clamor receded, and only the faint red glow of the charcoal brazier remained in the room.

Zu Dashou sat quietly in his armchair and rubbed his swollen brow.

He had been turning it over in his mind: in that moment before the assembled generals, when the Son of Heaven had spoken his name, what exactly was the thought that had welled up from the depths of his heart?

Was it fear? Was it overwhelming gratitude? Or was it relief?

Only now, sitting alone in this dim study, did it finally dawn on him.

He thought of his father, Zu Chengxun.

In those days, when his father had gripped his blade and led them, his sons, through fields of corpses in bloody combat, he had once said with soaring spirit:

"Why must a man's rank and renown be won through book-learning? To gallop on horseback and test one's sword, to break the enemy's charge and defend the state — these are no less worthy than the brush and ink!"

What heroic spirit that was, surging to the heavens.

But what came later?

When his father, covered in scars, had finally climbed to the post of Vice Regional Commander, and watched those civil officials who could only fight on paper strut and preen over him — one deep night, dead drunk, his father had clutched his hand and spoken the second half:

"Yet a man cannot but study to win rank and renown… for a military post means nothing but to suffer at others' command!"

The first line was the hot blood of a man rising from the grassroots.

The second line was the helpless lament of one shackled by the Great Ming system.

In his youth, Zu Dashou had thought his father had grown old, grown timid. He had believed that as long as he had a blade in hand and soldiers at his back, no one could shackle him.

But now, perhaps because he was older, perhaps because something had stirred him, he could at last understand his father's thinking.

And yet…

Zu Dashou thought of his own son, and a long, melancholy sigh escaped him:

"Father… but this thing called scholarly rank — it is not something you can win just because you wish to."