Chapter 322: Those On Shift, and Those Off Shift

The blizzard of the New Policies howled all the way from Shanhai Pass toward Jinzhou.

But once it reached Jinzhou, it came to a halt.

The formal troop-and-payroll audit did not proceed from south to north; instead, it began advancing southward from Jinzhou, the very front line.

Inside and outside Jinzhou city, over these few days, soldiers in camp after camp and fort after fort were called out by name, one by one.

Names were called, rosters were compiled, troop strengths and pay-silver were clarified.

The scale of it looked intimidating, but the rank-and-file soldiers and the mid- and high-ranking officers soon breathed a sigh of relief.

For the officers:

The court had indeed kept its word.

Even when empty-payroll posts, fraudulent registrations, and unfit soldiers were uncovered,

the principle laid down in the earlier imperial edict — "prior offenses shall not be pursued" — was genuinely upheld.

Each man was merely required to write a pledge, setting a deadline to make up the troop quota and to discharge the old and the weak.

The rank-and-file soldiers, however, were concerned with something else entirely.

That rumor which had been quietly spreading in recent days — "the court is going to cut the Liaodong levy" —

turned out to be just a rumor after all.

This round of audits left troop strengths untouched; everything remained as before.

The only change was that roughly ten thousand or so men would be trimmed from various places and reassigned to the Liaodong Demonstration Camp.

With that, the last worry of the common soldiers was lifted.

One cannot blame them for being short-sighted.

The Liaodong campaign had dragged on for seven years, and this land east of the Liao River had long since become, like the capital itself, a deformed region utterly dependent on transfusions of central-government revenue.

If grain and pay were truly cut — not that they could not be cut —

it might still, in the end, trigger uncontrollable upheaval.

The Book of Documents says: "Be magnanimous yet restrained, unhurried and thereby harmonious."

The Ji-Liao audit appeared harsh and severe, but at its root, "stability" remained the overriding priority.

At the same time,

one thousand soldiers of the Valiant Guard Camp, clad in fine armor, set foot for the first time upon this frontline east of the Liao, a thousand li from home, to confront directly the Jianzhou power that had plagued the Great Ming for years.

This kind of troop movement, within the Ming military system, could be called both an ancient established practice and something utterly unprecedented.

It was an ancient established practice because the Ming had always had a rule for rotational garrison duty.

By regulation, each year was divided into two shifts, spring and autumn: the first shift returned in the third month and arrived in the eighth; the second shift returned in the eighth month and arrived in the third month of the following year.

The Capital Camps, Northern Zhili, Henan, and the various guard stations around Shandong were all, in theory, required to serve in rotation, and for this purpose the military payroll even included a specific expenditure called "shift silver."

Among these, guard stations in the interior were to rotate to the Capital Camps or to the various border garrisons,

while the Capital Camps themselves were to go and garrison the various border posts.

In the customary parlance, this could actually be called "going on shift" and "coming off shift."

As for why it was unprecedented…

That was because in the past, the Ming's border troubles had mostly been concentrated in the Ji Garrison, Datong, and Xuanfu.

An instance of the Capital Camps being sent a thousand li across country, pulled directly to the Jinzhou front line for rotational garrison duty, was truly without precedent.

Even during last year's Battle of Ning-Jin, when the Capital Camps were urgently dispatched as reinforcements,

those pampered lordlings had merely dithered before Shanhai Pass, never daring to venture a single step beyond the pass.

But now things were different.

The new army had been trained, and the strategy had been set.

This Valiant Guard Camp, into which the Emperor had poured endless heart and blood, was sooner or later going to see blood in this ultimate standoff east of the Liao.

Taking advantage of this audit and rotational training exercise to station them early in the bitter cold of Jinzhou was by no means a bad thing.

On one hand, they could familiarize themselves with the surrounding terrain in advance.

On the other, it would show the Ji-Liao command exactly what the strong army in the reigning Emperor's mind truly looked like.

And so:

Inside Jinzhou city, the audit was being carried out with furious energy; Yuan Jixian spent every day drowning in mountains of documents and account books, worked to the point of utter exhaustion. Outside Jinzhou city,

Sun Chuanting and Sun Yingyuan were leading their men, braving the wind and snow, sending out reconnaissance riders.

They were carrying out surveying and mapping, inch by inch, strictly according to the new drill-manual standards His Majesty had compiled.

Over the next three months, the audit team would start from Jinzhou and work its way south, clearing up troop strengths all along the way.

The Valiant Guard Camp would also strike camp and follow, providing escort the entire way while conducting mapping along the route.

The best soldiers from the entire army, those who had passed the "literacy examination," had been selected and, before leaving the capital, given intensive training — a crash course of a dozen or so days in the latest surveying and mapping methods — precisely so that, through this rotational deployment, the entire topographical map of the land east of the Liao could be resurveyed to the newest standards.

In three months' time, when the audit concluded, that would also be when this army's border-rotation training tour came to an end.

When that time came, they would return to the capital bearing detailed maps, and the capital's war-gaming exercises would likely be due for an epic-level version update. Such, more or less, was the state of affairs in the Ji-Liao region.

The Valiant Guard Camp, the military staff group, the audit group — these were the sharp edge specially dispatched by the central government. Sun Chengzong, Ma Shilong, Yuan Chonghuan, Man Gui, Lu Shanji, Bi Zisu — these were the foundation of the Great Ming's long-term governance of Ji-Liao.

Everyone had a shift to work, everyone had a task to do.

Looking out across it all, this Liaodong land, blanketed beneath winter's ice and snow, seemed faintly to radiate a vigorous vitality.

In that case… what about the capital?

I'm afraid

the capital was off shift.

What's more, on the fifteenth day of the first month, the day of the Lantern Festival,

the capital, by custom, imposed no curfew.

"Picking up from where we left off!"

Crack! — the wooden clapper rang out crisp and clear, carrying far across the makeshift stage set up outside a capital teahouse.

In the night breeze of the fifteenth day of the first month, the storyteller's spittle flew as he jabbed his folding fan sharply downward:

"The imperial inspector argued long and hard, but in the end he could not persuade Wang Sancai, and could only let him stay for now — the better to see the true colors of the new policies in Ji-Liao!" The dense crowd below held its breath; some had just bought steaming tangyuan but forgot to take a single bite.

"But how could Wang Sancai, in his heart, ever be reconciled?!"

"He had fled Jianzhou, enduring four saber wounds and three arrow wounds, heedless of life or death, crossing an icy river by night, to offer up, with a heart full of fervor, secret military intelligence."

"Yet instead, a Company Commander greedy for merit slandered him on the spot as a spy, wanting to take his head and claim the reward."

"Having passed through this brush with death, he came to feel that all crows under heaven are equally black — where in this world was there any fairness or justice?"

"How could this rotten mess of troop quotas and pay and rations ever be cleaned up?"

At the line "all crows under heaven are equally black," the common folk gathered below nodded vigorously in deep agreement.

"But with his wounds, he had no choice but to stay and recover for now, and later find a chance to slip back into Jianzhou and perish together with the barbarian chieftain." "As the saying goes, kill one and you break even, kill two and you profit — if by luck you kill seven…"

At this point the storyteller swept his fan wide, eyes blazing with fury.

"That is a joy in life that even becoming a Buddha or an ancestor could not match!"

"Bravo!"

"Exhilarating! That's how it should be!"

Tales of a common man's wrath and blood splashing five paces had always been the Chinese people's deepest love, and at once waves of cheers erupted from below. The atmosphere was now thoroughly heated, the audience's emotions wound to the highest pitch.

"Crack!"

The storyteller slammed his clapper down hard, instantly suppressing the clamor of the crowd.

Once silence fell again below, he suddenly snapped open his fan and his voice soared:

"But who could have imagined — this stay of his would let him see with his own eyes, in this land of Liaodong… a sight never seen before!"

At these words, the crowd held its breath, not even daring to breathe heavily, afraid of missing a single word.

The fan snapped shut. The storyteller swayed his head, drew a deep breath from his dantian, and declaimed:

"As the saying goes!"

"One day red flags rolled through the frontier cold, the inspector stepped forth from his tent to execute the officers."

"Thunderbolts shattered the snows across the chain of camps, a hundred thousand in stale pay repaid in blood!"

The crowd felt their blood surge the moment they heard it.

As the proverb says, the settling poem settles the scene.

Once the poem is spoken, the scene must be set!

Hearing just this opening, everyone knew the story to follow could not possibly fall short.

A burst of cheering and applause erupted from the crowd; copper coins and bits of silver rained down onto the winnowing basket on the stage, as everyone clamored for the tale to go on. The storyteller smiled broadly and did not keep them in suspense.

With a crack of the clapper, he launched into the tale of how the inspector unleashed thunderous measures, touring all nine garrisons of Ji-Liao in a single day, beheading sixty-seven corrupt officers in succession, until every post in Ji-Liao ran red with blood.

As the saying goes, the closer to the king, the sharper the law cuts like a blade.

But the closer to the king, the faster the updates come, too.

Just yesterday, the Ming Times had published the latest installment of the Loyal Record of the Liao Seas.

And in the blink of an eye, the newest chapter had been adapted by the storytellers, each in his own style and patter, spreading through every street and alley. The story in the newspaper was the story in the newspaper.

But a storyteller's rendition was a whole different level of pleasure for the ears and eyes.

And the people of the capital, living at the feet of the Son of Heaven, enjoyed the advantage of hearing this soul-stirring tale a full four or five days earlier than the soldiers and civilians on the Ji-Liao front lines.

Meanwhile, at the outer edge of this seething crowd—

A tall, sturdily built middle-aged man stood steady by the roadside, on his broad shoulders a little girl in a red padded jacket, her hair tied up in two tufted knots. Listening to the thrilling passages on stage, the man shook his head with a rueful smile and could not help speaking up:

"Ever since Ruan Dacheng became editor-in-chief, these Liao Sea tales have truly lost some of their rigor — nothing like before."

"Liaodong stretches five hundred li north to south — how can it be toured in a single day?"

"And executing officers and arresting the corrupt has always required reporting to the court, with three trials and two reviews — how could they all simply be executed on the spot?"

"This isn't some crisis of mutiny and upheaval — how can the court's legal order be flouted like this?"

The middle-aged man grumbled on, delivering a thorough critique of the story.

Then he turned to look at the two gentle, graceful beauties beside him, ready to receive the admiring gazes he was so accustomed to. But his wife and concubine were utterly absorbed, their eyes fixed intently on the storyteller on stage, not hearing a word he said. The man felt a bit awkward, rubbed his nose, and was just feeling rather put out—

When he was abruptly interrupted by the little girl perched on his head.

"Papa!"

The little girl seized the man's hair with both small hands, yanked hard to the left, and cried out in her clear, crisp voice:

"I want to go see that big lantern!"

The man, his hair being pulled, was not the least bit annoyed.

He tilted his head helplessly in the direction his daughter was pulling, his face full of unreserved, doting affection.

"All right, all right, we'll go see the big lantern. But Qiaoqiao, don't pull Papa's hair out — Papa's been losing quite a lot of hair lately." This big fellow, content to serve as his daughter's "horse"—

Was none other than the man whose name was rising fast at court and who held a cherished place in the emperor's heart: Lu Xiangsheng.

Only then did his wife and concubine come back to themselves.

They could only reluctantly tear themselves away from the inspector's tale still unfolding on stage and hurry after him.

"Husband, be careful — don't strain your back."

Lu Xiangsheng's second wife, Madam Wang, wrapped in a moon-white hooded cloak, watched the father-daughter antics and could not help gently laughing a word of caution. Beside her, the concubine, Madam Chen, drew her own greatcoat tighter and covered her mouth with a light laugh:

"Qiaoqiao has been cooped up too long — never stepping beyond the inner gate on ordinary days — and has finally waited for the Lantern Festival. How could she have the patience to sit through this storytelling?"

Lu Xiangsheng nodded with a smile, shielded his wife and daughter, and turned to follow the crowd toward the lantern market outside Dong'an Gate.

A light snow had fallen over the capital the day before yesterday.

In years past, once the first-month snow melted, the streets of the inner city would inevitably be trampled by carts, horses, and pedestrians into a morass of muddy puddles.

But this year was different.

Beneath Lu Xiangsheng's feet lay a road of level, solid flagstones.

And on either side of the flagstone road, exceedingly broad drainage ditches had been dug and cleared.

What was more, from time to time one could still spot a few old men in coarse cotton-padded jackets, brooms in hand, clearing away the remaining snow and litter. These were the infirm and elderly hired by the Troops and Horses Office of the Five Wards.

The first refined reform enacted by the newly appointed Ward-Inspecting Censor and Superintendent of the Troops and Horses Office of the Five Wards, Zhang Zhiji, was to set a rule: hiring many of the old and weak to take charge of daily sweeping, street maintenance, and such tasks.

That is to say, what had originally been corvée labor was turned into hired employment.

And because of this, in the several pilot market wards where the policy was first rolled out, the sanitary conditions on the streets showed an immediate and dramatic change. Though the flagstone road was still somewhat soiled with a little melted snow, compared to the impassable mire of previous years, the difference was like heaven and earth. The family had just reached a crossroads.

"Husband, look over there — what are those things parked at the corner?" Lady Wang suddenly pointed toward the street corner and asked with some curiosity.

Lu Xiangsheng followed her gaze.

There, in an open space at the street corner, sat several oddly shaped wooden carts.

Mounted on the carts were large wooden barrels and a mass of complicated bamboo-and-wood structures, with soldiers standing guard around them.

"Those are the newly built water carts."

A flicker of admiration passed through Lu Xiangsheng's eyes as he explained:

"Did you not go to see the demonstration of the gas well?"

"This device is made by moving the gas-well mechanism onto a water cart. They say it saves tenfold the effort and can spray a three-zhang water dragon into the air out of nowhere — truly a sharp weapon for fighting fires." "There is actually such a marvelous thing?" Lady Chen exclaimed in astonishment.

Lu Xiangsheng smiled and shook his head. "The capital has had snow, and everywhere has been quiet — no fires have broken out, so these water carts have yet to be put to use. I have no idea whether my colleagues' boasts are true or false either."

Lu Xiangsheng was currently a member of the Policy Group in the Secretariat, under the leadership of Grand Secretary Li Banghua.

This group was rather different from the other groups — Military Affairs, New Policies, Payroll Auditing, Shaanxi, and so on — being specifically responsible for the rather abstract business of "formulating policy."

But for that very reason, the matters they dealt with day to day were broader and more miscellaneous than those of the other groups' members.

This matter of the "firefighting water carts," for example, was something Lu Xiangsheng and his colleagues had touched upon when drafting the Patent Law.

At the time, everyone was debating the moral boundaries of "patents."

The discussion turned to this: if a matter, an invention, or a technology benefits the nation, then why not promote it for free?

Can the fees collected through patents truly compare to the overall enhancement of national strength that free promotion would bring?

But if it were made compulsorily free, would that not then injure the inventor's motivation?

In short, on this point of contention, two meetings were held last year, and neither the pro nor the con side could convince the other.

With His Majesty pressing for a proposal, they had no choice but to set it aside for the time being and first strive to draft a preliminary version to submit for trial implementation, and then see how it went.

As they talked, the family had already followed the flow of the crowd into the heart of the lantern market.

The crossroads here was different from the ones before — an enormous wooden awning had been erected.

Hanging dead center was a colossal painted lantern, commonly called a "dull lantern," its panels painted with stories from the Four Books and the Thousand Poets' Poems. And beneath the wooden awning, every sort of merchant, no matter their trade, had hung up many small lanterns, each inscribed with various lantern riddles.

This spot had long been surrounded by countless literati and common folk, all gathered to guess the riddles, a scene of boisterous excitement.

"Papa, quick, quick, quick! Over there! I want that bunny flower lantern!"

Lu Xiangsheng's exclusive "mecha pilot," Lu Qiaoqiao, gave his hair a sharp tug with her little hand and once again pinpointed the direction of the charge.

Lu Xiangsheng let out a hearty laugh and at once shielded his wife and daughter as they pressed forward through the crowd.

Lantern riddles of this marketplace variety were, to Lu Xiangsheng, naturally child's play.

One saw his gaze sweep across the riddle slips — whether word riddles or verse riddles, the answers rolled off his tongue, swift and effortless.

In mere moments, the stall owner running the riddle game was pulling a pained face, bowing and clasping his hands in repeated pleas for mercy, and obediently handed over the finest prize. Lu Xiangsheng, of course, had no intention of taking advantage of a common marketplace peddler.

Having won the flower lanterns, he cheerfully produced some loose silver and casually bought up a heap of the snacks, treats, and little trinkets arrayed around the stall.

And so, after this bout of guessing and buying, Lu Qiaoqiao got her wish, clutching the little bunny flower lantern she had set her heart on, and in her arms she also held a majestic little tiger lantern.

But it was hard on Lady Wang and Lady Chen at his side.

The two ladies carried hardly any flower lanterns in their hands; instead, they were laden with large and small parcels of purchased goods.

Lady Wang held two packets of freshly baked, soft glutinous plum-blossom cakes in her left hand, and in her right she carried a bag of fragrant, steaming sugar-roasted chestnuts.

Lady Chen, for her part, was clutching several vividly lifelike clay figurines, with two packets of fine cloud-slice cakes and several strings of bright red candied hawthorn sticks tucked in the crook of her arm.

Though they had won the flower lanterns for free by skill, in the end they had actually shelled out quite a bit of silver buying things.

Yet not a single member of this family, returning laden with goods, felt they had come out the worse for it.

The family left the lantern awning in high spirits and continued their leisurely stroll down the long street.

They had not walked far when Lady Wang suddenly stopped, pointed to a broad residence not far off, and asked softly, "Husband, could that over there be the much-talked-of 'Women's and Children's Health Hospital'?"

Lu Xiangsheng followed her gaze, his eyes settling on the residence, and smiled. "How is that? The court's Great Ming Times has yet to publish anything on this matter. Living mostly in the inner quarters, where did you learn of it?"

Lady Wang exchanged a glance with the concubine, Lady Chen, who smiled and answered:

"Husband, you may not know, but among the inner-household women of official families in the capital, word has long since spread in private."

"They say the two Empresses themselves are taking the lead, planning to establish this hospital in the capital, specifically to manage the business of midwifery and pediatric care." "It is just that no one feels sure in their hearts whether such an utterly unprecedented affair can truly succeed."

Lu Xiangsheng's smile faded, and he said with a slightly more earnest air:

"It ought to succeed."

"His present Majesty, in all his undertakings, has always planned thoroughly before acting."

"Had this matter not been a near certainty, His Majesty would never have stirred up such a great undertaking, still less entrusted it to the Empresses of the two palaces to lead in person." Hearing this, a glimmer of hope passed through Lady Wang's eyes, and she said softly, "If it truly can succeed, so that the women under heaven may pass through the gates of hell with greater safety, and children may grow up safe and sound — that would be a wonderful thing indeed."

At these words, Lu Xiangsheng's frame stiffened, almost imperceptibly.

He forced a smile and managed to echo, "Yes... if it truly can succeed, that would be wonderful."

The moment these words left his mouth, Lady Wang and Lady Chen caught on, and their expressions instantly shifted, their faces full of embarrassment.

Lu Xiangsheng was only twenty-eight this year, yet in the matter of progeny he had already suffered much pain.

He and his first wife, Lady Wang, had once had three sons, yet without exception, all had died in infancy.

In the end, only this Lu Qiaoqiao, riding on his shoulders, had survived by sheer luck.

Thus the matter of raising an heir had become a raw scab on Lu Xiangsheng's heart.

All around them the crowd roared with noise, yet this spot seemed extraordinarily quiet.

Madam Wang and Madam Chen looked at each other, at a loss, wanting to say something to mend the moment, yet afraid of making their husband even sadder.

Right in the midst of this suffocating awkwardness and silence—

Suddenly!

A sharp "whoosh" split the air.

In the distant night sky, a cold streak of light shot straight through the zenith!

Then, "a hundred thunderclaps crackled and blazed everywhere," a watermelon cannon burst open right in the center, and all around, faces and forms were lit up by the fiery glow. The Colorful Lotus Boat and the Rival-Moon Brightness were like golden lanterns scattering the azure stars.

The Purple Grapes, on a thousand frames and ten thousand vines, were like black-pearl pendants hanging upside-down from a crystal curtain.

Atop a flower stake fifteen feet high, an immortal crane held a cinnabar writ in its beak, standing proudly at the very peak.

Ground-rats darted and twisted beneath the crowd's feet, drawing shrieks from women and children;

the Eight Immortals Bestowing Longevity and the Seven Sages Subduing Demons fireworks blazed all over, shifting and transforming unpredictably.

Yellow smoke, green smoke, dense and swirling, shrouding ten thousand banks of rosy clouds.

The Foot-Long Chrysanthemum faced off with the Mist Orchid; the Fiery Pear Blossom vied for spring with the Ground-Falling Peach.

"Papa, the fireworks are so beautiful!"

Lu Qiaoqiao, riding on his shoulders, waved the little rabbit lantern in her hand excitedly, pointed at the night sky, and let out a crisp, delighted cheer.

That single childish cry instantly pulled Lu Xiangsheng back from his cold old dreams.

He drew a deep breath, smiled indulgently, and reached up with his broad palm to lift his daughter higher, so she could see past the bobbing heads to the even more dazzling fireworks in the distance.

Watching this scroll-like scene of a golden age, feeling the warmth of his wife and concubine at his side—

this civil official, ordinarily so astute, did not have a single political thought rise in his mind.

No military situation in Jizhou and Liaodong, no undercurrents of the court, no gains and losses or adjustments of the various new policies.

He only gazed quietly, watching the splendid fireworks showering down across the sky, watching the lantern dragons flowing with iridescent light.

In his ears was Qiaoqiao's crisp, carefree laughter.

Yet in his mind, only a single old lyric faintly drifted up.

"East wind by night sets a thousand trees in bloom. And blows down stars like rain..."

He turned around.

Madam Wang was drawing her moon-white cloak about her, looking up at the fireworks, smiling gently.

Madam Chen had stretched out her hand, carefully shielding their daughter's side.

Lu Xiangsheng stared blankly for a moment, then suddenly broke into a joyful laugh.

"Yes, such beautiful fireworks."

Lu Xiangsheng murmured, and lifted his head too, to admire this night sky of falling stars like rain.