Chapter 194: Persuasion

Watching Lu Jun's departing figure, Zhu Gongxie sank into deep thought.

The words Lu Jun had just spoken stirred his heart.

The Emperor in the capital had a simple goal—exchanging money and grain for freedom. This move struck at the weakness of every feudal prince, for freedom was precisely what everyone within those princely mansions craved most.

Ever since Zhu Gongxie could remember, he had never once left the city of Kaifeng. For the vast majority of his time, he lived within this princely mansion that outsiders saw as incomparably luxurious and resplendent.

Every blade of grass, every tree, every flower, every pavilion within the mansion he knew by heart—and was utterly weary of. When bored, he would often dress in plain clothes and go to the city gate, standing to one side quietly observing every peddler, porter, traveler, and merchant who could freely pass in and out of the city; through the long gate tunnel he would seek out the world beyond the walls, feeling the breath of distant fields carried on the breeze.

He had also watched with envy as ragged woodcutters complained about the wild hares that had slipped their traps, or that this year's wild fruit was scarcer than in years past.

He loved to see farmers in short jackets returning from outside the city, several fresh fish strung on willow twigs in hand, faces brimming with smiles that came from the heart.

The world outside held an incomparable allure for him—though close at hand, it was forever beyond reach.

He wanted to go to the magnificent capital built by his ancestors to see the current Emperor and behold what he looked like; he wanted to go to the ancestral tombs at Fengyang to offer incense and pour out cups of wine; he wanted to climb the Great Wall and frontier ramparts that were said to coil like a giant dragon; he wanted to go to Jiangnan and experience the soft Wu dialect; he wanted to stand east at Jieshi and gaze upon the vast sea, and go to the frontier fortress to watch the long river and the setting sun.

But all of this was mere fantasy. He had long known that every good thing was denied him, that his entire life, like that of his forebears, would be spent curled up in this corner that seemed grand but was, compared to the whole of the Great Ming, unbearably cramped.

"Your Highness? Your Highness?" A few soft calls interrupted Zhu Gongxie's thoughts.

Sun Sansheng, who had seen Lu Jun out of the mansion, had returned.

Zhu Gongxie snapped back to himself, rose from his seat, and with hands clasped behind his back descended the steps and made his way toward the rear hall, saying without turning his head: "Cunzhi, walk with me a while. I feel somewhat restless!"

Sun Sansheng was secretly pleased: his and Lu Jun's assessment had been correct—the Prince of Zhou was not a man of unshakable resolve with deep rancor toward the Emperor. This matter had greatly moved the Prince's heart; it seemed it could very well succeed!

He hurriedly quickened his pace to catch up with Zhu Gongxie. A eunuch from the rear hall hastily draped a sable greatcoat over the Prince's shoulders and fastened its buttons, then placed an exquisite gold-inlaid copper hand warmer into Zhu Gongxie's hands. The two men walked slowly along the long corridor out of the Silver Peace Hall, with several eunuchs following at a distance behind.

"Cunzhi, in these five years you and I have gotten along well enough. Though we cannot be called bosom friends, at least we see largely eye to eye on many matters. You could be said to be the only person in this world with whom I can speak deeply! You know my hardships all too well. What was spoken of today at the Kaifeng prefectural office—what do you think I should do?"

Zhu Gongxie's tone carried a deep loneliness and desolation.

Sun Sansheng was slightly moved, feeling an inexplicable stirring in his heart.

He could empathize with Zhu Gongxie's words all too well.

Throughout the entire mansion, apart from himself—this Chief Administrator, who by virtue of his special status could converse with the Prince of Zhou on relatively equal footing—there was no one else who could exchange even a few words with Zhu Gongxie.

The Princess Consort and the secondary consorts were womenfolk, more appendages to Zhu Gongxie than anything else, with no voice at all; Zhu Gongxie's only son had died young, and his two grandsons were not yet grown, lacking the maturity for meaningful exchange; there were indeed quite a few eunuchs of rank within the mansion, but they were all imperial household slaves, unqualified to converse with their master; and those outside the mansion were bound by all manner of regulations, making deep friendship with Zhu Gongxie even more impossible.

It was no exaggeration to say that he himself was Zhu Gongxie's only friend in this world—though they could not bare their hearts completely, at least he could speak frankly so long as he avoided taboo subjects. After all, he was a court-appointed official; Zhu Gongxie had no power over his future or his life.

Sun Sansheng stopped in his tracks, clasped his hands in salute toward Zhu Gongxie's retreating back, and said: "Your servant asks Your Highness: can one have both fish and bear's paw? Your Highness's question shows that a decision is already forming in your heart—you have simply not yet made the final resolve!"

Zhu Gongxie halted mid-step, slowly turned around, and looking straight at Sun Sansheng said: "You are right—I do indeed have some calculation in my heart, but I am unwilling! The Zhou fief has been passed down for over two hundred years. My forebears poured their hearts and blood into building what we have today. Must it all be cut away from my hands to purchase my own freedom? If it truly comes to that, I would feel shame before my ancestors!"

Sun Sansheng straightened up, his bright eyes meeting Zhu Gongxie's: "Your Highness's words are greatly mistaken! Your servant dares to ask: when the late Prince Ding of Zhou, Zhu Su, held this fief, did the Zhou patrimony possess what it does today? When Grand Ancestor first enfeoffed the princes, the Great Ming had just been established, and so ten thousand qing were apportioned to each prince; yet after more than two hundred years, the estates of the princes have long since surpassed what Grand Ancestor granted them several times over! What His Majesty intends now is merely to restore the princes' holdings to what they were at the founding of the state! Wealth is but an external thing—mere filthy dross! 'Laughing to the sky, I walk out the door—how could I be one of the common herd!' This is the unfettered spirit that men of our kind ought to possess! Does Your Highness intend to spend the rest of your days as if sitting in a prison?"

Zhu Su was the first Prince of Zhou, the Grand Ancestor's fifth son. He died and was posthumously titled "Ding."

Zhu Gongxie frowned and said nothing, still wavering in his heart.

Who could be so carefree as to give away such a vast patrimony?

Sun Sansheng's words grew more impassioned: "Your Highness, the situation of the Great Ming today is utterly different from before! When your servant came to the mansion in the fifth year of Chongzhen, the situation was already showing signs of decay: in the bustling court, wolves and jackals held the way; in the dark pit of Liaodong, gold was being devoured without end! Worse, the bandits of Shaanxi were suppressed time and again yet never extinguished, and within a few years showed signs of growing into a real force! But since the eighth year of Chongzhen, everything has changed utterly! His Majesty has suddenly revealed wise and brilliant conduct! Your servant has seen in the military dispatches that His Majesty has appointed worthy ministers such as Governor-General Hong, Governor-General Lu, and Grand Coordinator Sun, raised mighty armies, and strangled the bandits plaguing the Great Ming one by one! He has transferred cavalry from the Liaodong army into the passes—the intent to divide and weaken is already clear! He has instituted military farmland policies to settle the people in the prefectures of Shanxi and Shaanxi, dispatched Censors and Embroidered Uniform Guard officers to patrol everywhere, preventing local officials from harming the people and betraying the state; moreover, he has purchased large quantities of grain from Jiangnan to relieve the north, so that the people have no fear of going hungry! Your servant dares to assert that within a few years, the Great Ming will return to a state of peace and prosperity! His Majesty's conduct bears the style of Grand Ancestor and Grand Ancestor Taizong. Your servant observes His Majesty's actions—once the Great Ming is stabilized, his measures to reduce the princely fiefs will surely far exceed what Taizong did! This conclusion can be drawn from what was said at the Kaifeng prefectural office today. Rather than have it forced upon you then, better to willingly comply with his wishes now! His Majesty, with the heart of one who buys a horse's bones with a thousand gold, will surely treat the first to come forward well! Your servant has said all he can say. How Your Highness chooses, your servant will not presume to advise further!"

In the Luo Ying Mountains southeast of Zhushan, Zhang Xianzhong and a dozen others were hiding in a concealed mountain cave. Several personal guards were wolfing down flatbreads, while Ai Nengqi, gripping an iron staff over four chi long, crouched at the cave mouth, carefully observing the surroundings.

After slipping out of the county town by following the common folk of Zhushan City, Zhang Xianzhong and Ai Nengqi, leading several dozen trusted followers, had fled into the Luo Ying Mountains after the other bandits, hoping to break away amid the chaos and then act as opportunity allowed.

He had originally assumed the government troops would first drive the common folk aside and settle them before launching pursuit, which would give him ample time to escape; what he had never expected was to run into a Zu Kuan who valued military merit above all.

The Liaodong cavalry, under Zu Kuan's orders, charged ahead without regard for anything. Whether common folk or roving bandits in their path, any who failed to dodge in time were trampled into mud.

After more than two thousand cavalry thundered past, the clogged road opened up in the blink of an eye.

Seeing this, Qin Yiming immediately ordered his men divided into two groups: Gao Qixun led three thousand in pursuit toward Fangcheng Mountain, while he himself led the remaining two thousand-plus men south to the Luo Ying Mountains to search and pursue.

Zu Kuan, having finished clearing the field with his cavalry, divided his men into companies of a hundred and raced forward along the roads at the foot of the mountains on both sides, striving to cut off any route the bandits fleeing into the mountains might use to escape back out.

Though most of the roving bandits had fled into the two mountains, two legs could never outrun four.

The Liaodong cavalry swept along the paths at the mountain's base to encircle and cut them off, sealing tight any way out over the ridges.

Qin Yiming's Sichuan troops excelled at climbing and mountain warfare, and because the interval was short, many bandits had barely entered the mountains before the Sichuan troops caught up on their heels.

Once the Sichuan troops entered the mountains, without waiting for orders from their officers, they naturally split into squads of several men: two sword-and-shield men at the front clearing the way and providing cover, four spearmen following behind, two soldiers wielding iron-banded long wooden clubs guarding the flanks, and finally two archers or gunners at the rear.

This formation resembled Qi Jiguang's mandarin duck formation, the difference being the weapons used—the last two men had become archers and musketeers for ranged suppression, and there were no wolf-brush or trident men.

Many of those fleeing this time were elite veterans of the Xi'an camp's old guard. When they saw that the pursuing government troops were relatively scattered, many bandits thought there was an opportunity to exploit, so they stopped and gathered together, preparing to scatter the oncoming soldiers.

One squad of Sichuan troops saw a small band of about thirty-odd roving bandits twenty-some paces ahead turning to give battle. The two sword-and-shield men immediately raised their long shields upright to guard against arrows or spear thrusts from the bandits, while the four spearmen pressed close together and leveled their spears, and the club men took positions on either side of the spearmen to protect their flanks.

The two archers in the rear halted a few paces behind the formation, swiftly drew five arrows from their quivers, stuck four into the ground before them, nocked the fifth, and loosed it.

All of this happened in the briefest instant. The bandits opposite had already begun charging forward. As the bowstring sang, screams rang out—two bandits were struck by arrows. One took an arrow through the neck and died on the spot; the other was hit in the shoulder blade, the three-edged arrow driving straight into the bone. The man clutched his wound and collapsed, howling without cease.

Before the bandits could react, the bowstrings sang again in rapid succession as the two archers sent eight more arrows flying. At such short range, all ten arrows found their marks—ten bandits dead or wounded. In the blink of an eye, the band of thirty-odd had lost nearly three in ten.

A three-edged arrow could pierce iron armor at thirty paces; the two sides were barely twenty-some paces apart. Though most of the bandits wore cotton armor, it was no match for the piercing power of the arrows.

The remaining bandits, terrified, turned and fled. The Sichuan sword-and-shield men lowered their shields and stepped aside to the flanks, the four spearmen charged forward together, and the two club men followed close on either side.

After several dozen paces, the Sichuan troops caught up with the bandits lagging at the rear. One of the spearmen gave a low shout: "Thrust!"

Four spears over a zhang long shot forward in unison, and more screams rang out—two bandits were stabbed in the back and thigh. "Withdraw!" Another low shout, and the spearmen pulled their weapons back simultaneously. The two struck bandits collapsed and did not rise, blood gushing freely.

With another thrust, several more bandits were struck down. This band of thirty-odd roving bandits had lost over half their number in a short span.

Several fleeing bandits suddenly flew into a murderous rage, stopped, turned, and raised their blades and spears to meet the spearmen. The two sword-and-shield men rushed forward, raising their shields to cover the front, while the two club men circled around the shields and brought their clubs down with savage force. The bandits tried desperately to dodge or parry, but against the iron-banded hardwood clubs there was nothing they could do. The two club men struck again and again, and all the bandits were smashed to the ground. The sword-and-shield men sheathed their shields, drew their waist blades, and hacked off the bandits' heads, then the squad pressed on in pursuit.

The two archers slung their longbows diagonally across their backs, first retrieving the arrows they had loosed, then going through the corpses one by one to strip them of valuables.

Scenes like this were playing out in many places. The roving bandits, in their carelessness, had thought there was easy profit to be had—but they were all routed and sent fleeing in utter terror by the Sichuan troops.