Chapter 79: Fengyang

For safety's sake, the brothers Chen Qishen and Chen Qizhi, accompanied by their guards, first headed east before turning south, detouring through Zhending and then passing through Shandong, finally arriving in Fengyang nearly two months later.

After finding an inn to rest and wash up, the Chen brothers brought their family letters to the governor's office to pay respects to their distinguished kinsman. Chen Qiyu warmly received his two clan cousins in the second hall. He had some understanding of these two men, knowing that Chen Qishen had once served as a county registrar and had rich experience in handling official documents and administrative affairs, while Chen Qizhi, though never having held office, was steady and reliable—he could rest assured entrusting private matters to him.

Chen Qiyu took the letters but did not rush to open them. Instead, he first inquired about his mother's condition. Upon hearing that his seventy-year-old mother had not learned of his imprisonment, Chen Qiyu secretly breathed a sigh of relief—he had always feared his mother would worry and be frightened upon learning he was in prison. Fortunately, the family had kept it from her. But when he heard that his mother was old and frail, her health beginning to decline, Chen Qiyu, now nearly fifty, could not help but shed tears.

After a long while, once his emotions had settled, Chen Qiyu opened the letters. Chen Fengru's letter naturally reported only the good news and none of the bad—nothing but hollow congratulations and felicitations, followed by mention that the clan had dispatched these two men to await his orders, hoping he would not be sparing in promoting them, and so forth.

His younger brother Chen Qifan's letter was more detailed, explaining one by one all the various matters that had occurred in the household over the past year or more. It also cursed Chen Qishen's petty behavior bitterly, while greatly praising Chen Qizhi's quiet assistance, explicitly stating that he hoped his elder brother would give important posts to their ninth cousin and need not be overly eager to promote Chen Qishen.

After reading the letters, Chen Qiyu secretly felt disgust toward Chen Qishen, though his expression betrayed nothing. Smiling, he exchanged pleasantries with the two men, then sent someone to order a banquet from the finest restaurant in Fengyang Prefecture to be delivered to the governor's office. He then dispatched yamen runners to the inn to inform the guards and servants to move all their belongings to the private residence behind the governor's office, and arranged lodgings for each person before calling it done.

What followed was routine. Although Chen Qiyu detested Chen Qishen's conduct, he still assigned him to handle various official documents and casework—after all, one's own family was still the most reassuring to employ. As for the future, he would listen to his words and observe his deeds. Chen Qizhi, meanwhile, served as Chen Qiyu's personal attendant, accompanying him to visit gentry, meet with local officials and guard station commanders, and discuss all manner of public and private affairs. This was treating him as a trusted confidant, cultivating and training his experience in governing a region. Chen Qizhi was also a clever man, and before long he had gradually grown familiar with the ways of officialdom. Chen Qiyu was quite satisfied with him.

Chen Qiyu had not expected that in the two-plus years he had spent in prison, the situation of the Great Ming would have become so complex and dangerous. The local bandits he had once scorned had actually grown into a force to be reckoned with. The roving bandits' momentum was growing ever greater, their range of movement ever wider—they had even rampaged into the very cradle of the Ming dynasty's rise and dug up the imperial ancestral tombs.

Meanwhile, the performance of the government troops was growing worse and worse. From the early days when a few hundred soldiers could send tens of thousands of roving bandits fleeing in all directions, now they were repeatedly defeated by the bandits, leading to a situation of fearing battle and avoiding combat. Even more troubling, this situation seemed to deteriorate almost every day, which filled Chen Qiyu with deep unease.

If only back then he had completely annihilated that band of tens of thousands of roving bandits at Chexiang Gorge, then ridden the momentum of that great victory to press the attack relentlessly—perhaps the roving bandits would have long since been destroyed. Even if remnants remained, they could no longer pose much of a threat to the Great Ming. He had never imagined that a single moment of error on his part would create today's perilous situation. How he regretted his earlier mistake!

While feeling guilty at heart, he was also deeply dissatisfied with Hong Chengchou and Lu Xiangsheng, especially with Hong Hengjiu, who had succeeded him as Governor-General of the Five Provinces.

After comparing maps and reviewing two years' worth of military dispatches from the court, Chen Qiyu found Hong Chengchou's actions baffling: Gao Yingxiang, the strongest of the roving bandits, had originally been in Guanzhong, entrenched around Jingyang and Sanyuan. Hong Chengchou commanded twenty thousand troops yet turned a blind eye, lingering between Huayin and Weinan. Gao Yingxiang broke through prefectural and county cities right under his nose, plundering countless gold, silver, grain, and supplies, yet Hong Chengchou never dared approach. Perhaps fearing Gao Yingxiang's ten thousand cavalry, Hong Chengchou simply did not dare to meet him head-on, instead trailing behind only after the bandit had finished his violent plundering and departed. Chen Qiyu concluded that Hong Chengchou dared not challenge his sharp edge and was deliberately avoiding the Dashing King under the pretext of mobile operations.

Chen Qiyu was also dissatisfied with Lu Xiangsheng's approach after the Dashing King had rampaged into Henan: when the Dashing King attacked Runing and Shangcai, Lu Xiangsheng did the opposite and went between Ye County and Biyang; when the Dashing King breached Guangzhou, Lu Xiangsheng was still stationed at Xinyang—also adopting a permissive attitude toward the Dashing King. These actions could only prove Lu Xiangsheng's fearful mentality toward the enemy.

After analyzing the situation, Chen Qiyu formed a hypothesis: the Dashing General Li Zicheng and others spreading through northern Shaanxi were not numerous and could be handled by the Shaanxi Governor alone; the Old Hui-Hui, the Five Camps of Ge and Zuo, and others numbering over ten thousand in the Lingbao and Lushi area of Henan could be handled by the Henan Governor alone; Governor-General Hong Chengchou and Commander-General of the Five Provinces' Forces Lu Xiangsheng could concentrate their troops and attack the Dashing King in a pincer movement from the east and west, while the Fengyang Governor, Huguang Governor, and Yingtian Governor enveloped and coordinated from their respective defense lines, surrounding the Dashing King in the heart of the Central Plains and inflicting a heavy blow or annihilating him in one stroke.

But times had changed, and the best opportunity had already been missed. Now not only had Gao Yingxiang, Zhang Xianzhong, and others grown ever more powerful, even Li Zicheng, far away in the Yan'an area of northern Shaanxi, had taken the opportunity to strengthen himself. Scorpion Tuo Yangkun, Zhang Miaoshou, and others also roamed about, capturing cities with weak defenses and replenishing their manpower and supplies. But one who holds no office does not meddle in its affairs—now he was merely the Fengyang Governor, a post granted by His Majesty's grace. His current duty was how to achieve something noteworthy in his tenure as Fengyang Governor.

Before taking up his post in Fengyang, he had specifically sought out fellow degree-holders serving at court to learn about the situation there, and had gathered information about Fengyang through every available official channel. After synthesizing all the information, Chen Qiyu reached a conclusion: Fengyang was a poor place, and after the roving bandits burned the imperial mausoleum in the eighth year of Chongzhen, it had become even more of a furnace.

Fengyang's land was barren, ranked at the very bottom among the prefectures north of the Yangtze, with nine years of famine out of every ten. Whenever disaster struck, the people were accustomed to fleeing with their entire families to escape the famine. Someone once joked that nine out of ten beggars in Nanjing were from Fengyang. Though exaggerated, Fengyang folk fleeing famine and begging for survival had indeed become a custom.

With massive population loss, yet the annual taxes due did not decrease. Accumulated year after year, the amounts became staggering, yet the authorities continued to press for collection without cease. These taxes fell upon the people who remained in the area, and when those who stayed could no longer pay, they could only flee—forming a vicious cycle.

In the fourth year of Chongzhen, Qian Shisheng, Vice Minister of Rites in Nanjing, after being ordered to perform sacrificial rites at the imperial mausoleum, reported to Chongzhen on Fengyang's desolate state: much land lying fallow, dwellings sparse and scattered, hills overgrown with wild brush—a bleak vista in every direction. In his personal memorial, he hoped Chongzhen would reduce Fengyang's burdens and exempt its taxes. But Chongzhen was then busy dealing with a mountain of troubles and had no mind to spare for the welfare of a single prefecture—he simply shelved Qian Shisheng's memorial without acting on it.

After taking office and gaining a general understanding of Fengyang's situation, Chen Qiyu, together with Fengyang Prefect Li Qimei and Regional Inspector Censor Chen Liangmo, convened a meeting of the local wealthy gentry to discuss plans for revitalizing Fengyang. He stated that he had already submitted a memorial to the court requesting tax reductions and exemptions for Fengyang. The most urgent task was to take advantage of the winter slack season to build water conservancy works, open up wasteland, and purchase draft animals such as oxen and mules, striving for a good summer harvest next year. But the government had no money, so he asked the assembled gentry to generously open their purses to tide over the difficult times together. Those who contributed the most in money and grain would have their names submitted to the court by the governor's office, with Imperial Academy student slots granted to donors as a mark of recognition.

The gentry at the meeting were either retired officials who had returned home or members of families with someone serving at court. Although Fengyang was a poor place, these people had still amassed considerable wealth through various means. Taking advantage of times of natural disaster and human calamity, when the common people were struggling to survive, forcing them to sell their land at rock-bottom prices was the gentry's customary tactic. They would then lease the land back to its original owners, collecting seventeen percent of the crop as rent per mu, until seventy to eighty percent of all arable land in Fengyang had fallen into their hands.

As for the wealthy merchants who had been summoned, they too all had countless connections to officialdom. From the chief officials at every level down to the clerks and yamen runners, all had been stuffed full by their silver. It could be said that in this place called Fengyang, they feared no one. What of the Governor? Whatever the Governor ordered, did it not still have to be carried out by the various underlings below? If the Governor's directives harmed everyone's interests, the most commonly used tactic of delay would be enough to drive the gentleman frantic, until he finally had to compromise and let the matter drop.

But today the Governor was merely soliciting contributions—this was also a necessary formality that every newly appointed official went through, and everyone had to give the gentleman face. So, led by a retired gentry member of the fourth rank, each person announced the amount they would donate—you five hundred, I three hundred—until finally a total of three thousand taels of silver and eight hundred dan of grain was raised. This was already the greatest sincerity they could show out of regard for Chen Qiyu's former position as Governor-General of the Five Provinces.