Chapter 339: Beacon Fires Linked in Camps

“Not appropriate!”

“If we do this, where is the court’s authority?”

Wang Weijiarui firmly refused.

Deep inside, he had already silently cursed.

The precondition for debunking a rumor is—there must first be a rumor.

Outside, rumors were spreading wildly; though exaggerated, the use of human flesh as military rations was indeed real.

Even after being processed into dried meat, it still differed from pork, beef, or mutton.

If the warehouses were opened and soldiers allowed to inspect them, exposure was inevitable.

Among hundreds of thousands of soldiers, there are all kinds of people.

Currently, only some soldiers believe the rumors; once exposed before everyone’s eyes, his reputation would be utterly ruined.

After refusing, Wang Weijiarui regretted it.

From the changing glances of the officials present, he read “shock and suspicion.”

Wang Weijiarui knew well that deceiving lower-ranking soldiers with the grain issue might work, but high-ranking officials familiar with Chu would surely sense something amiss.

Refusing inspection amounted to an outright admission.

Yet all were intelligent men who understood some things could be done, but never spoken of.

“Your Highness is wise; your humble minister was rash!”

Fang Kecheng immediately made amends.

The windowpane had been pierced—the goal had been achieved.

The rebel army’s secrecy was on par with that of the Great Yu Dynasty.

The conversation just now would spread throughout the army in no time.

Since this Minister of Revenue could betray Chu for clan interests, others could too.

The rapid spread of rumors within the army was the best proof.

Without any instigation, mere spontaneous fermentation among soldiers could never have achieved such efficiency.

“Forget it—you were merely eager to quell the rumors. This time, I’ll let it pass.”

“Issue orders: forbid anyone from spreading rumors; violators will be executed without mercy!”

Wang Weijiarui waved his hand.

He had not told the ministers about using human flesh as rations; their ignorance was understandable.

He had personally verified Fang Kecheng’s identity before giving him authority.

Before joining the rebels, he was merely a lowly scholar who had angered a prince and lost his family.

After joining the rebels, he personally wielded the blade against the prince who had destroyed his household.

Clearly a staunch anti-Yu loyalist—his loyalty required no concern.

Not just Fang Kecheng—every high official in court bore a blood feud with the Great Yu regime.

The political vetting was flawless, but unfortunately Wang Weijiarui overlooked the possibility of substitution.

Identity substitution was not done carelessly; at least some outward resemblance was required.

Even if encountered by acquaintances, they would not instantly see through it.

Besides civil officials, the rebel army’s military commanders also harbored agents from various factions.

A general who had thoroughly studied military texts could not have sprung from a crack in a rock.

Claims of teachings from reclusive sages were pure nonsense.

Under the Great Yu’s household registration system, those living deep in remote forests were almost certainly fugitives.

“Reclusive sages” were still people—they still needed food, clothing, and shelter.

They were talented, not insane.

Life deep in the mountains and forests was inconvenient—purely self-inflicted suffering.

If even eating was a problem, how could one find time for scholarship?

“The greatest concealment lies in the court, the middle in the marketplace, the least in the wilds.”

The most formidable among them have always been in court, merely hiding in plain sight.

Yet for fooling grassroots rebel troops, it was highly effective.

Because such figures appeared so often in operas, many naively believed the most gifted sages hid in the countryside.

“As Your Majesty commands!”

Seeing the Prince of Chu had made up his mind, all immediately agreed.

Catching rumor-spreaders was extremely difficult; banning rumor-spreading, however, was very simple.

How effective a ban might be was not the point.

The order came from the Prince of Chu—they merely had to carry it out.

Skip this sensitive topic and swiftly move to the next agenda item—that was the key to diverting the Prince’s attention.

Especially the insiders who had decided to defect—they feared most that something untoward would erupt at this sensitive moment.

…

Wuchang City.

“The insider has sent word—they’ve spread the news through the camp and are now waiting for it to ferment.”

“Perhaps I can set a time for an inside-outside coordinated strike.”

Li Yuan said, in high spirits.

Knowing he was accustomed to steady, methodical operations and had never done anything like this, he remained uncertain.

The rebel forces outside the city had completed their organization—they were no ordinary bandits.

The enemy outnumbered the imperial troops several times over; if they launched an attack, whether they could swiftly crush them was uncertain.

If the rebels withstood the assault, the situation would rapidly reverse.

Then the enemy could use their familiar human-wave tactics to grind down the imperial army.

Even if they ultimately won the war, the massive compensation payments would bankrupt the local administrations.

“Judging from the enemy’s offensive behavior, their combat morale has dropped sharply.”

The strategy to undermine their morale is already showing results.

To avoid complications and prevent the rebels from sensing something wrong, set a direct confrontation for tomorrow night.”

“They need do nothing else—just find an opportunity to set fire within the camp.”

“If they can burn down the enemy’s grain depots, that would be even better.”

Li Mu immediately made his decision.

He had little expectation of the insiders.

If they could spread the news and disrupt enemy morale, they had fulfilled their task.

For the coming major battle, insider cooperation would be ideal—but unnecessary.

Once morale collapsed, the rebels’ combat effectiveness would drop by seventy to eighty percent.

“Aren’t we waiting for the battle report from Jiangxi?”

Li Yuan asked, puzzled.

The imperial forces had launched multiple offensives; Jiangxi was currently the most successful front.

The rebel main force had been deployed, leaving their rear vulnerable—the perfect moment to reclaim lost territory.

“The rebels have brought this upon themselves; the timing is now ripe—no need to wait.”

“If we win this battle, the rebel forces in Jiangxi and Zhejiang will collapse within half a year.”

“After the autumn harvest, launch the Nanzhili campaign; once Nanjing is retaken, this rebellion will be nearing its end!”

“Other scattered fronts won’t make a difference.”

“After a few years of recuperation, the court can recover.”

“As for the pacification campaign in Sichuan, leave it to Minister Xu to deal with slowly.”

“We shouldn’t clean up too thoroughly—otherwise, those civil officials might get ideas they shouldn’t have.”

“The Emperor is easily swayed and prone to being misled into making wrong decisions.”

Li Mu spoke bluntly.

Though Emperor Yongning relied on the noble clans to suppress the rebellion, their relationship was far from close.

Had he truly trusted them, he would have heavily promoted the noble clans at the very start of the Bai Lian rebellion.

Had he done so, the Bai Lian rebellion would have been crushed long ago—it never would have dragged on this long.

“These words, when outside, should be spoken sparingly.”

“The Eastern Depot and Embroidered Uniform Guard may not be as sharp as before, but they still exist.”

“If someone misinterprets your words and reports them to the Emperor, it will be troublesome.”

“Our enemies are not only on the battlefield—they’re also in court.”

“To suppress the rebellion, civil officials have compromised with us; once the war ends, both sides will return to opposition.”

“Your status is different now—if they catch you out, you could become the spark that ignites civil-military conflict.”

Li Yuan gently warned.

Status and position determine treatment.

For the Li clan, Li Mu had shifted from a promising prospect to a pillar of the family.

Having two marquises in one family was a public honor; the real power lay in controlling the largest army in Great Ming.

The victory on the Jiangxi battlefield proved that the Guangdong garrison troops also possessed considerable combat strength.

If the situation in Guangxi was the same, Li Mu’s combat-ready forces could reach over two hundred thousand.

Before this force, the mighty Liaozhen was nothing but a junior.

“You’re right, Uncle—these words truly shouldn’t be spoken lightly.”

But we can’t avoid the next round of civil-military rivalry.”

Right now, all seven provinces are governed by our meritocratic faction as viceroys.”

These are titles won on the battlefield—we naturally won’t give them up easily.”

We don’t expect to hold these positions forever, but the court must offer some compensation.”

“For example: lift the restriction barring military officers from serving as provincial viceroys or governors, and appoint our men as successors.”

Li Mu said with a serious expression.

In court, one is not master of one’s own fate.

Even if one doesn’t seek power or profit, once one reaches this position, one must stand up and fight for the military’s interests.

Success isn’t crucial—the key is to make a show of force, to declare one’s stance.

Fundamentally, this is aimed at the junior officers—a covert way of winning their loyalty.

“That probably won’t work—the court won’t compromise on this.”

If we raise it, the civil officials will likely go mad, and the Emperor will oppose it too.”

Our strength isn’t enough to change the court’s decisions.”

Li Yuan shook his head.

Lifting the restrictions would mean removing the ceiling on military officers’ promotions.

Once this precedent is set, civil control over the military will cease to exist.

The notion of civil superiority and military inferiority will become history.

“Uncle, I never expected success.”

After achieving great victories in suppressing the rebellion, if we ask for nothing, the Emperor won’t rest easy.”

If these demands are rejected, it will be much easier to propose other conditions later.”

We don’t need to charge into battle ourselves—just arrange for subordinates to submit memorials expressing our stance.”

The court is simply too poor—it can’t even pay compensation, let alone reward meritorious officers.”

Li Mu said, deeply troubled.

When there’s nothing left to grant and nothing left to reward, it’s a grave taboo in officialdom.

Usually, when this happens, the emperor’s blade follows.

Normally, the court shouldn’t now be destroying its own defenses.

But at the end of a dynasty, abnormal measures are most common.

Li Mu couldn’t guarantee that, after being misled by civil officials, Emperor Yongning wouldn’t do something foolish.

The best way to avoid tragedy is to shift everyone’s focus from rewarding meritorious officers to power struggles.

“Arrange for someone to test the waters—you may seize the initiative, but don’t rush to step forward.”

“Our Li family has served loyally for generations—we absolutely must not...”

Li Mu naturally agreed at once to his uncle’s advice.

Building up strength is for self-preservation in chaotic times.

Who would foolishly raise a rebellion unless driven to desperation?

No matter how many trusted subordinates one has, they still operate within the Great Ming system.

The core binding the team remains the traditional values of loyalty and righteousness.

…

Rebel camp.

Since the rumor of human flesh as rations spread, no meat had been boiled in the camp.

The official explanation was that meat supplies were exhausted; the next improvement in rations would have to wait for the next consignment.

This explanation somewhat calmed the troops.

Unlimited meat supply was definitely suspicious; intermittent supply was normal.

But there was still a loophole: soldiers guarding the grain depots knew the storehouses still held large stocks of dried meat.

Even with a gag order, it couldn’t stop everyone’s gossip.

No matter how strictly the camp was managed, someone always turned a blind eye, letting rumors spread freely.

As the rumors multiplied, various versions spread through the ranks.

After confirming human flesh as rations, many began speculating about its source.

Some guessed enemy corpses, others fallen comrades, still others believed someone in the rear had sacked a city to make rations...

No one wanted to be eaten after death, let alone have their own family become food—panic gripped the camp.

A mutiny even broke out, swiftly crushed by the officers’ personal guards.

The direct consequence: soldiers became passive in siege assaults and lacked morale during patrols.

Especially among reconnaissance scouts, once out of their officers’ sight, they immediately hid.

Only after sufficient time passed would they return to report.

Their answer? “No situation—everything normal.”

“Bang, bang, bang...”

The sound of arquebuses shattered the silent midnight.

“Enemy attack!”

Only after the battle began did the night watchmen raise the alarm.

But what they received wasn’t reinforcements—it was the raging fires erupting throughout the camp.

Those who had switched back to the court exploited the chaos to ignite artillery, filling the sky with flames.

The chaos ignited internal contradictions within the rebel army.

Once someone incited conflict, soldiers with old grudges quickly turned on each other.

No matter how fiercely officers shouted orders, they couldn’t stop the spread of disorder.

The carefully constructed camp was swiftly torn apart by imperial troops, and the battle quickly spread to the inner encampment.

“What’s happening outside?”

Wei Jiarui, just awakened from sleep, asked blankly.

“Your Highness, the enemy has raided the camp! There are traitors from the false dynasty inside—they set fires during the chaos!”

“It’s a complete mess out there—please, Your Highness, think of something!”

The commander of the personal guard said, terrified.

The chaos came too suddenly—they had no time to react.

In panic, many soldiers with no morale ran wildly through the camp.

Many officers couldn’t find their men.

Hearing “false dynasty raid,” Wei Jiarui’s face darkened.

Li Mu’s forces were famed for night raids—it was no secret in the rebel army.

To guard against such attacks, he had reinforced camp defenses and deployed scouts in all directions.

Even at night, someone was always assigned to watch for enemy movements.

Normally, as soon as the enemy moved, word would return immediately.

But what unfolded before him was clearly not as expected.

The enemy had reached the camp gates before the guards raised the alarm.

Before the soldiers could even rise from sleep, the fire had already spread into the camp.

Before everyone could rise from their sleep, the flames of war had already engulfed the camp.

Before he finished speaking, Wei Jiarui suddenly realized something was wrong—his own tent was also on fire.

Without hesitation, he quickly dressed and ran out of the tent.

Looking around, the entire camp was a vast sea of fire.

Screams mingled with gunfire and cannon fire, echoing into the heavens.

“Your Highness, the situation is chaotic—enemy troops are everywhere.”

“Let us escort you through the night!”

The commander of the personal guards said frantically.

“No!”

“I cannot go anywhere now!”

“Order all officers: organize troops to resist the enemy and assign men to extinguish the fires!”

Wei Jiarui replied firmly.

He had fled too many times—he wouldn’t run again.

If he left now, all the foundation he had built would be destroyed.

Once they leave, all the foundations they’ve built up will be destroyed at once.

Suddenly, a strong southwest wind arose.

The camp, already a sea of fire, burned even more fiercely as the wind fed the flames.

Many tents that had not yet caught fire were now ignited by drifting embers, and the fire continued to spread.

“Heaven’s wrath!”

“King Chu is wicked and has summoned Heaven’s punishment.”

“To continue rebelling under King Chu will surely bring divine retribution…”

The shouts rising from the camp became the final straw that broke the camel’s back.

The rebel commanders who had still been organizing resistance lost all their courage upon seeing this.

(End of Chapter)