Chapter 62: What Sort of Troops Is This Supposed to Train?

The Duke of Ying, Zhang Weixian, was jolted awake by a clamor of noise.

The boom of cannon, the thunder of hooves, the shouts of soldiers — it all came from the Valiant Guard Camp across the river, churning his mind into restless unease.

He threw on an outer robe, climbed to the attic of his residence, and stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing toward the far bank.

The morning mist had not yet fully lifted; all he could make out were dark masses of figures surging about, banners and pennants fluttering — a scene of bustling commotion.

His son, Zhang Zhiji, stood beside him, wearing the same baffled expression.

"Father, has the Valiant Guard Camp gone mad?" Zhang Zhiji could not hold back. "The last two days they were utterly listless — what sort of show are they putting on today?"

Zhang Weixian said nothing, only furrowed his brow.

Just then, the old steward hurried up from downstairs, slightly out of breath.

"My lord Duke, I have found out."

Zhang Weixian slowly turned his head, his eyes questioning.

"The servants have just reported back — they say His Majesty has come in person to the Valiant Guard Camp today to inspect the drill."

Zhang Weixian suddenly understood. He murmured to himself, "I thought as much… so His Majesty has come in person."

Zhang Zhiji's face, however, was instantly filled with excitement and reverence: "His Majesty has barely ascended the throne, yet already shows such concern for military affairs — truly a blessing for our Great Ming! Now, with troubles festering within and without the realm…"

"Enough." Zhang Weixian waved his hand in exasperation, cutting off his son's effusion. "I know — your His Majesty is wise and capable."

His gaze returned to the far bank, his expression complicated.

"Raising a new camp for special training is a good thing." He let out a long sigh, speaking less to his son than to himself.

"But this old man truly cannot fathom it — why, among these several thousand soldiers in the camp, have they still not filled even a few decent Company Commander or Battalion Commander posts? Leaving them led by a bunch of Platoon Officers — what sort of troops can that possibly produce?"

He shook his head, his look growing ever more perplexed.

To be frank, ever since he had come into possession of that line — "Bitter sacrifice fuels a grand and lofty will; daring, we bid the sun and moon to change the sky anew" — Zhang Weixian had not been overly worried that this new sovereign would turn out to be another Wanli Emperor.

The poem's language was blunt, yet its force was piercing and fierce; it even carried a faint whiff of sedition. It could hardly have been ghostwritten — it had to be the Emperor's own work.

It was only in these last two days, as he calmed his mind and looked back on his observations, that he realized the earlier template of Liu Bang did not quite fit this new sovereign either.

This new sovereign's actions were, in truth… somewhat unconstrained and wildly imaginative.

In any case, he could not make sense of them, and he was in no hurry to do so.

Zhang Weixian simply stopped looking, turned, and went straight back down the stairs.

"It seems I won't be getting my morning nap today. I may as well go to the yamen early and sit through my shift… Ah, truly hard on an old man like me."

Zhang Zhiji did not see him off. He remained on the attic, facing the morning breeze, straining to gaze at that clamorous barracks. His eyes were full of fervent heat.

At the same time, on the far side of the river.

Zhu Youjian's brow was furrowed even more tightly than Zhang Weixian's.

The Valiant Guard Camp had three thousand men, divided into six divisions, five hundred to each.

Yet as he looked out across them, apart from the division commanded by Sun Yingyuan, which could still maintain a basic formation,

the other five divisions had formations in disarray and ranks askew — they looked exactly like a disorderly rabble.

This formation effect was even worse than the parade-ground drill the other day.

"Xu Yingyuan."

Zhu Youjian turned his head and called.

The eunuch of the Directorate of the Imperial Horses, Xu Yingyuan, felt his heart quiver. He hurried forward out of the ranks: "This slave is here."

"How has the Valiant Guard Camp's drilling and the Platoon Officers' palace calligraphy lessons progressed these last two days?"

Fine sweat beaded on Xu Yingyuan's forehead; he was both terrified and mortified.

"In reply to Your Majesty… there has been some slackness in both." He hastily added, "It is only because the camp has appointed only Sun Yingyuan as a single Company Commander, and the other five divisions are leaderless dragons without a head. We slaves could only assist from the side, and we… we could not very well give orders to these valiant warriors."

He ventured cautiously, "Your Majesty, should we select some veteran officers from the Five Chief Military Commissions and the Ministry of War to fill the vacant Company Commander and Battalion Commander posts in each division?"

Zhu Youjian did not answer at once.

He held his riding crop, tapping it lightly against his palm, and sank into thought.

Xu Yingyuan was useless — of that there was no doubt.

But useless as he was, he was still a personal retainer from the princely household.

To win hearts and avoid a reputation for harsh ingratitude, he could not be moved for the time being.

Besides, this matter could not be blamed entirely on him.

At root, this was a problem of management span.

He knew perfectly well that one person's effective span of control was limited — seven people was optimal; beyond that, control easily broke down.

In the military, this was even more true. Even Marshal Qi's mandarin-duck formation had only a twelve-man establishment.

Now, with these five divisions lacking commanding officers, it was equivalent to letting fifty Platoon Officers each go their own way — naturally, it was a sheet of loose sand.

The slackness and chaos were only surface symptoms; the root lay in the absence of a management structure.

But for the moment, he was reluctant to directly transfer over those slick, hardened officers from the Capital Camps, the guard stations, or even the Nine Border Garrisons.

The stale, corrupt, and ruffianly air of the Ming army would come along with them.

Once the canvas was stained, cleaning it again would be no easy task.

The problem was, the elite Platoon Officers and shock-troop champions he had ordered selected from the Nine Borders were still on the road.

Based on what he had learned yesterday of Ming transport conditions, even the fastest, from Xuanfu and the Ji Garrison, would take half a month to arrive.

Those from Liaodong and Shaanxi would not reach the capital for at least a month or two.

He could not simply let these three thousand men muddle along in chaos for a whole month.

The rice from his, the Zhu Emperor's, table was not so easily earned!

His deliberation settled, Zhu Youjian directly issued his command.

"Xu Yingyuan! Convey Our decree."

"First: from this day forward, the Valiant Guard Camp shall receive an additional one liang of pork per man per day."

"However…"

Zhu Youjian paused, but in the end he could not suppress the wicked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"In the daily drill competitions, the squad that places last shall forfeit that day's extra ration."

"Second: once every ten days there shall be a grand reward — an extra jin of meat and a jin of wine."

"But only the squad with the best performance over those ten days may receive it."

He continued at once:

"Third: on the first day of next month, We shall personally select new Company Commanders."

"The assessment will weigh the month-end written examinations and the drill records of every Platoon Officer through the month; the two Platoon Officers with the highest scores shall be promoted to Company Commander."

"Fourth: should any squad place last in drill for three consecutive days, that entire squad, together with its Platoon Officer, shall be dismissed and returned in full to the reserve camp."

"The vacated slots shall then be filled by fresh selection from the two reserve camps, the Brave and the Valiant!"

"These four articles — set to work on them."

Zhu Youjian gave the order to Xu Yingyuan, his tone even.

"This slave… obeys the decree!" Xu Yingyuan nodded heavily, silently reciting the points over and over in his mind, terrified of forgetting any.

The matter settled, Zhu Youjian did not even go to see Sun Yingyuan, whom he had originally meant to meet; he turned his horse and rode straight away.

The theory that the optimal management span is seven people is correct enough.

But in later ages, even the internet giants adopted flat management structures.

Companies like Google and Nvidia routinely run dozens of parallel reporting lines, yet their operations hum along at full throttle.

How did they manage that?

Nothing to it — simply transform "I want you to do this" into "this is what you yourself want to do."

And the initiative that generates is produced through rule design and the distribution of rewards and punishments.

Of course, such a clever shortcut only suits low-complexity work like drilling troops; for real battle, you must still fill out the full officer ranks.

Whether this method succeeds or fails, I will come back in three days to see.

It will also serve nicely to test the compatibility of later-age methodology with the Ming dynasty.

If it truly does not work, there will be time enough to compromise then.

"Let's go — next, to the Inner Palace School."

The hoofbeats of the column clattered as the party wheeled swiftly into the Gate of Northern Peace and headed straight for the Directorate of Ceremonial.