Chapter 380: Defining the South

“Hahahaha…”

“I’ve roamed the land, marched from Guangxi all the way into Nanjingcheng—what kind of scene haven’t I seen?”

“You think this childish trick can fool your grandfather? Dream on.”

“Brothers, I’ll go ahead of you!”

With that, Fu Haoxuan collapsed on the spot, foaming at the mouth.

Clearly, he had prepared poison in advance and swallowed it during the battle.

“Your Majesty!”

The remaining Wu soldiers cried out, then each chose to slit his own throat.

“Stop them!”

Shi Jingzhong shouted urgently.

To crush this remnant force, the Liaodong Army suffered hundreds of cavalry casualties.

It was the heaviest loss they’d suffered since entering the pass to quell the rebellion.

Previous battles had seen higher casualties, but mostly among infantry.

Compared to infantry, who could be trained in months and sent to the front, these elite cavalry were far more costly to raise.

A live fish and a dead fish aren’t worth the same price.

With so many dead and all the fish caught dead, how could they bear it?

“Forget it—let them have their loyalty and righteousness.”

Shi Jinglin spoke up to stop him.

“Fifth brother, are we just letting them go? Won’t our men have died in vain?”

Shi Jingzhong spoke bitterly.

Killing the false emperor was certainly a great merit.

But their merit could have been even greater.

Watching the merit slip right before their eyes, he couldn’t accept it.

“If we had slain the rebel leader Fu Haoxuan on the spot, our men wouldn’t have died in vain.”

“These men are loyal and righteous—no need to make them suffer physical pain.”

“Cut off Fu the traitor’s head, send it to the capital to report our victory, and bury the rest in a single grave!”

Shi Jinglin shook his head and gave the order.

It wasn’t that he was soft-hearted—simply unnecessary.

The rebel leader Fu Haoxuan was dead; the rebel high command was dead; these dozen or so soldiers were worthless.

On the southern bank of the river, the imperial troops had captured hundreds of thousands of prisoners.

Unless they were named, notorious rebels, the court didn’t care if they were captured alive.

Regardless of identity or allegiance, “loyal and righteous men” always deserved respect.

With no profit to be gained, better to follow one’s conscience and let them kill themselves.

“Fifth brother, didn’t this merit come too easily?”

“If the Min-Zhe navy had moved just a bit faster, Fu Haoxuan’s force could never have crossed the river safely.”

“Even the Anqing garrison defected—how could they have been that short on time?”

“Even if they just happened to miss it, the Anqing garrison still managed to stab Fu the traitor in the back—how could the blocking forces have just happened to be delayed too?”

After calming down, Shi Jingzhong asked suspiciously.

One accident might be coincidence; multiple accidents piled together were no accident.

Though the Liaodong faction and the meritorious nobles weren’t exactly at war, they certainly wouldn’t hand over a major victory for free.

“You’ve spotted the problem—that’s good.”

“They’re letting us pick up this windfall because the Duke of Cheng and the Marquis of Wuyang fear their achievements might overshadow the throne.”

“In this rebellion-quelling campaign, the meritorious nobles have shone too brightly—they need someone to share the pressure.”

“Across all of Dayu, the only force that can steal their spotlight is our Liaodong Garrison.”

“It’s an open strategy—this battle merit is handed to us; we can’t refuse.”

“Compared to the meritorious nobles, we Liaodong Garrison have already fallen far behind in military merit.”

“If this continues, in the future we won’t even have the strength to speak firmly in court.”

Shi Jinglin replied, frowning.

The actual situation was even worse than he said.

The gap wasn’t just in battle merit—it was in military strength too.

Due to the rebellion, the imperial armies of the seven provinces—Guangdong, Guangxi, Huguang, Min-Zhe, Jiangxi, and Nanzhili—had all been replaced by men loyal to the meritorious nobles.

Neither the resources they controlled nor their troop numbers could be matched by Liaodong Garrison.

The court had just ordered the Marquis of Zhenyuan to enter Sichuan to quell the rebellion.

Without doubt, future military officers in Sichuan would bear the meritorious nobles’ label.

The most vital regions of Dayu were all under their control—how could their strength not grow?

They couldn’t copy this maneuver.

Not only would the court never approve, but even within their own ranks, they couldn’t afford to split their strength.

The meritorious nobles were a coalition of many noble families, but Liaodong Garrison was built around the Shi family alone.

The emperor could tolerate the meritorious nobles’ expansion because within their ranks, there were still many competing factions.

These forces were entrenched interest groups within Dayu—they wouldn’t all rise up together.

In any garrison’s recruitment, sons of multiple noble families filled the ranks, creating mutual checks.

Under this mutual restraint, no single noble commander could fully control the army.

As long as the emperor didn’t threaten the core interests of the noble group, this armed body, bound with Dayu’s fate, would never raise rebellion.

Even if some individuals had ambitions, others would pull them back.

If the system hadn’t already balanced power against military officers, the previous years wouldn’t have seen civil officials commanding the military.

Liaodong Garrison should have been the same—but the previous Liaodong Supervisor was an idiot.

To pursue personal gain, he ignored institutional checks and balances, aiding the Shi family in purging rivals within the army.

Once the system was broken, no power structure, no matter how stable, was worth anything.

One group was inside the system, the other outside—who would be more suspect? It was obvious.

Push them slightly forward, and the eyes of Emperor Yongning and the court officials would turn to Liaodong Garrison.

“How despicable!”

“These bastards—if they want to play games, have the guts to go after the civil officials.”

“Picking on us honest men—what kind of thing is that?”

Shi Jingzhong’s complaint didn’t resonate with the others.

If they were honest men, the Shi family couldn’t have dominated alone.

Five years ago, there were still multiple armed groups in Liaodong—even the Liaodong Regional Commander wasn’t a Shi.

Now, their rivals’ graves were overgrown with grass several times over.

In terms of growth speed, they weren’t slower than the meritorious nobles.

But Liaodong’s territory was too small—they soon hit a ceiling.

The Dayu court could only allocate a few million taels annually to the Liaodong front.

Liaodong Garrison was already at its absolute limit within these limited resources.

To go further, they needed either more funding from the court or to crush the Tartars.

As for leaving Liaodong—that was impossible.

If they took that step, they’d get not a single copper from the court’s resources.

The southern regions were relatively wealthy; the meritorious nobles could raise funds independently to cover military expenses.

The north suffered constant natural disasters and human calamities—without central government support, Liaodong Garrison couldn’t survive.

Besides, they didn’t even control local government.

As long as the emperor and the court officials had half a brain, they’d never let the Shi family interfere in provincial administration.

This formed a closed loop.

To gain more resources, Liaodong Garrison had to demonstrate its strength.

But once it demonstrated strength, the Shi family would face even greater suspicion from the court.

…

On the southern bank, just across the river, the great battle was also drawing to a close.

Unlike the desperate fight on the northern bank, most rebel soldiers on the southern bank chose to lay down their arms and surrender.

The emperor had fled—their morale had long collapsed.

The several Dayu imperial armies suppressing the rebellion in the south had no habit of executing prisoners; surrender meant exile or conscription.

Many of the rebel soldiers were originally from Guangxi—exile was practically going home.

Even if life was hard, it was still home—better than dying far from home.

Yet the Wu officials, though surrendering, turned ashen-faced.

In Dayu, common folk who rebelled still had a chance at mercy—but scholars who rebelled were punished severely.

The standard of reference is official merit.

Those who attained official merit and enjoyed the court’s generous benefits were considered to have drawn salary from Great Yu.

To draw the ruler’s salary yet fail to share his burdens, and instead rebel, is a crime deserving aggravated punishment.

Especially those who defected—each and every one—would directly suffer the punishment of nine familial clans.

Too many people were implicated; it was impossible to execute them all, but close relatives would certainly not escape.

Distant branches and collateral lines would likewise be purged; confiscation of property and exile were inevitable.

Past personal connections now held no power.

No one would be foolish enough to step forward at this time to plead for the rebels.

Precisely because the consequences were so severe, the great families of Huguang and Jiangxi had spared no expense to buy their own lives.

The situation is different now.

The rebel forces have been crushed; they no longer have the chance to switch sides.

Those who remained on the rebel wagon were deemed irredeemable fanatics and must face the harshest purge.

“No one has come yet—looks like the gift I sent the Shi family has pleased them greatly.”

Watching the rows of captured prisoners being escorted away, the Marquis of Wuyang chuckled.

With all settled, the military merits go to whoever seized them.

The disputes between both sides vanished; relations returned to normal.

Now seated together again, all were members of the Merit Nobility faction, bound to jointly protect their group’s interests.

“Whether satisfied or not, they must accept this gift.

They can’t let spite cause them to forfeit the military merits already in hand.

The Liaodong faction’s recent performance has been entirely out of proportion to its actual strength.

If this continues, the court officials will reassess whether spending so much on Liaozhen is worthwhile.”

The Duke of Cheng replied calmly.

After Fu Ni was crushed, the critically ill Great Yu breathed a sigh of relief.

All that remained was to eliminate the rebel forces in Sichuan and Shanxi; internal threats were nearly resolved.

The remaining external threats could no longer endanger the life of this ancient empire.

With the Merit Nobility faction’s newly raised armies, the court now had more options.

These senior Merit Nobility figures had shone too brightly during the rebellion suppression; they would likely not be entrusted with further command.

But the younger generation of Merit Nobility heirs were different—they had just begun to emerge and were not yet threatening enough to alarm the emperor or the ministers.

As long as the emperor’s mind was sound, he would surely promote these young commanders to become the bedrock of imperial stability.

Once the court gained better generals, the Liaodong faction’s position would grow increasingly awkward.

“Hah…”

“Your Grace speaks truly—the Liaozhen lot have always looked down their noses; it’s time they suffered some hardship.

Now that the Jiangnan campaign is over, why not submit a memorial to transfer them to Shanxi to suppress the rebels?

If they continue hoarding their strength, His Majesty won’t accept it.”

The Marquis of Wuyang laughed and said.

For Great Yu, the White Lotus rebels had nearly killed the state.

But for the Marquis of Wuyang, these rebels were the very ladder to his rise.

Before the White Lotus rebellion erupted, he was merely an ordinary imperial relative from the capital, at best known for understanding military affairs.

Neither civil nor military officials in court took him seriously.

Their courtesy was extended out of respect for the emperor and the Empress Dowager—not for him personally.

With the end of the White Lotus rebellion, his status transformed utterly; he rose to become a core figure of the Merit Nobility faction.

Before any official in court, he could now stand tall.

Even powerful warlords like Liaozhen could be manipulated at will.

“Since the Marquis has spoken, then so be it!

After fighting so long, our troops need rest.

The Liaodong faction has watched this show long enough; it’s their turn to contribute.

Others may rest, but you, Marquis, cannot idle.

The Annan war is at a critical juncture; reports from there are scarce—it will require your continued attention.”

The Duke of Cheng said slowly.

Li Mu had stepped out of court politics; the conflict of interests between the Li and Jing families no longer existed—he was his good son-in-law.

When support was needed, he would naturally offer it.

Yet as Viceroy of Fujian and Zhejiang, he was far from the battlefield; sending troops would be better handled by the Two Guangs’ Six Garrisons.

The Marquis of Wuyang, who held dual command of the Two Guangs, held greater authority here.

“This is simple: after our troops rest a few days, I’ll send three garrisons back to reinforce them.

Mainly because the Nanzhili forces haven’t yet been organized—if they had, sending all six garrisons of the Two Guangs back would be no problem.”

The Marquis of Wuyang agreed at once.

These were all prearranged; since they were allies, there was no reason to break the agreement midway.

Compared to before the great war, the Two Guangs’ Six Garrisons had been significantly weakened.

Battlefield casualties were not severe; the main loss came from the large-scale transfer of officers and soldiers.

Now, troops across southern provinces were largely built from the core personnel drawn from the Six Garrisons.

The Two Guangs’ Six Garrisons, once totaling over seventy thousand, now numbered fewer than forty thousand, many of them raw recruits.

Not only were the Two Guangs’ Six Garrisons understrength; most other provincial garrisons also suffered from severe shortages.

Restoring combat readiness would take at least a year and a half.

“With just some garrison troops, we can hold off the enemy.

With these reinforcements, it should be sufficient.

If the situation grows dire, we can send more troops later.

If I weren’t tied down, I’d personally join the campaign to reclaim Jiaozhi Province!”

The Duke of Cheng said with a touch of sorrow.

Jiaozhi Province held extraordinary significance for the Duke of Cheng’s house.

When the Jiaozhi rebellion erupted, the third Duke of Cheng had been the Regional Commander.

After finally stabilizing the situation, he was forced to withdraw by imperial order.

His name became linked with the loss of territory.

Upon returning home, the third Duke of Cheng fell into deep despair and died still muttering about Jiaozhi.

This event was regarded by the Cheng family as their greatest shame.

(End of Chapter)