Chapter 78: Ghost Soldiers Borrowing Grain

(First-day bonus chapter 1/8; next one the day after tomorrow)

……

This small camp was filled entirely with the Boar-Rush Braves from Liewei Commandery, and even the company officers were mostly men of the same commandery: the two Company Commanders — the older one named Dai Gong, connected by kinship to Colonel Liangqiu Ci, and the younger one named Jin Dan, who claimed to be from Chiyang County.

In addition there were ten Centurions and twenty junior officers; they gathered together in one hall and laid out a lavish banquet to welcome Diwu Lun.

Dai Gong had long since received Liangqiu Ci's instructions and was exceedingly attentive to the newly arrived Major, personally sweeping the path ahead with a broom, and once inside the hall he invited Diwu Lun to take the seat of honor.

The table was laden with meat dishes; Diwu Lun did not refuse, nor did he, on his very first day, put on a solemn face and declare that he would share food and clothing with the common soldiers. Instead he sat down with a smile and asked, one by one, the names of all the officers present.

Then, according to their rank, he gave each some coal briquettes for warmth — in the depths of winter, no gift warms the heart more than this.

Diwu Lun claimed that this was his first time commanding troops and that he would have to rely heavily on all the officers; while he kept them steady here, he secretly sent Diwu Biao out with Zhang Yu to take advantage of the moment when the soldiers outside were eating, and on his behalf make a half-circuit inspection.

Just as the atmosphere in the warm hall was growing lively, Zhang Yu returned. Diwu Lun pretended he needed to change his clothes and use the privy, withdrawing to his quarters for a moment; Zhang Yu seized the chance to draw close to Diwu Lun and report in a low voice what he had seen and heard outside.

"Clan Head, the soldiers are all eating nothing but goosefoot-vegetable stew, and millet gruel so thin it's like water — drink five bowls of it and you still won't be full."

Even a half-grown boy said as much; grown men have even larger appetites. From Zhang Yu's description, the amount of food the army provided each man could barely keep them from starving to death. No wonder that ever since Diwu Lun entered the camp, every soldier he saw had a famished, sickly look, gaunt and bony — a gust of wind could knock this lot over, and after a hundred-li march they'd collapse. Could they even be sent to the frontier to fight?

Only then did Diwu Lun realize — what he had entered was no military camp at all, but a refugee camp!

They didn't even have enough to eat, let alone train, and there was very likely a huge racket behind it. The truth dawned on him; he sent Zhang Yu back out to observe and gather information, while he himself returned to the banquet, rapping his chopsticks against the rim of his bowl and saying: "Since all of you gentlemen have eaten your fill, and we've already exchanged the pleasantries of fellow townsmen, let us now discuss official business."

Diwu Lun looked toward the somewhat older Dai Gong: "Company Commander Dai, before I arrived, I heard that you were doubling as acting Major?"

"Indeed. This old man has no particular ability, and managing so many men left me constantly anxious. Now that the Major has arrived, this old fellow can finally breathe easy."

Dai Gong was quite straightforward; he immediately handed over all the troop rosters, registers, and the like to Diwu Lun, including the troop strengths of each Centurion and squad, as well as the monthly allotments of grain and hemp clothing.

Diwu Lun had served as a clerk at the commandery and county levels, so he naturally knew that these surface-level account books were only for show. Still, he conscientiously leafed through them. The cheerful chatter of the officers in the hall gradually died down — those who had been at this game a long time remained calm and composed, while those who had only entered the army a few months ago had guilty consciences and grew vaguely uneasy.

Diwu Lun soon finished reading the registers: "Excluding the officers present here, at the start of winter this camp had a total of one thousand and ninety-six men. Now only one thousand and twenty remain. What happened to those seventy-six men?"

The other Company Commander, Jin Dan, reported: "I venture to inform the Major: of those, twenty-five were executed for attempting to flee or for violating military prohibitions; their heads are hung at the camp gate."

"And the other fifty-one?"

"All died of cold and sickness." Dai Gong took over, his words full of regret: "This winter, the snow came early. It was too cold."

The army was still near the capital, yet it had already suffered a loss rate of one in twenty. The living conditions inside the camp were truly wretched. No wonder that when the clan folk heard about the conscription levy, their faces all turned ashen pale — even without fighting, one's life was in constant danger.

Diwu Lun pondered for a moment, then asked: "Do any of you know what offices I have held in the past?"

He was quite a famous figure in Liewei Commandery, and the men could indeed name a few of Diwu Lun's deeds — some said he had been a Filial and Incorrupt and a Palace Gentleman; others remembered that Diwu Lun had also served for nearly a year as Head of the Household Section.

"Correct, the Household Section." Diwu Lun said: "The household registers, taxes, and landholdings of every county in the commandery — no discrepancy, great or small, could escape my eyes. I also know that powerful and great families, in order to evade rents and taxes, often practice concealment: a hundred mu of land reported as ten, thirty bondservants reported as three — these are common occurrences."

These words seemed to carry an implication. Several of the junior officers at the banquet with weaker nerves grew increasingly uneasy, but Dai Gong remained perfectly unruffled. Only after Diwu Lun had finished speaking did he put on a look of sudden astonishment and ask: "From what the Major says, do you suspect that this camp's numbers do not match reality?"

Diwu Lun smiled without speaking. Then he saw Dai Gong suddenly slam the table and curse: "The Major's suspicion is correct! This old man and Company Commander Jin have long suspected that the Centurions and junior officers in this camp have been deceiving their superiors and concealing the true numbers of their men. They want to use these phantom names to draw extra rations for several more men!"

This unspoken truth, now laid bare before everyone by Dai Gong taking the lead to burst the bubble, made the scene momentarily awkward. Dai Gong, however, watched Diwu Lun, wanting to see how he would handle it.

"Since the numbers are false, then let us tally the true ones." Diwu Lun had Zhang Yu and the others bring up the wooden tablets, brush, and ink — his meaning was unmistakable.

None of those present had expected a meal to end like this, and they all felt somewhat aggrieved. It was Dai Gong who pressed them: "Did you all hear that? How many men has each of you concealed? Write it down truthfully and hand it over at once! If anyone hides anything further, even if the Major is kind-hearted and does not pursue it, this old man will not let him off!"

When Diwu Lun spoke, the men hesitated a long while; when Dai Gong spoke, they immediately complied. Tch — he was the real Major here, wasn't he? And the implication in his words was more than obvious.

The hall filled with the rustling sound of writing. As Centurions and junior officers, they might not recognize every character, but they could certainly count. Diwu Lun, however, saw several men hesitate for a long while before casually jotting down some made-up number; some even wrote something down and then crossed it out and changed it. At times a Centurion had to whisper with his subordinate junior officers to get their stories straight — it was laughable.

After everyone had written the numbers for their respective hundred-man units and squads on the wooden tablets and handed them in, Diwu Lun dipped a finger in water and did a quick calculation on the table — it came to only a little over nine hundred and twenty men.

Over a hundred men had evaporated into thin air. Diwu Lun's gaze swept over Dai Gong, Jin Dan, and the rest: "And where did those men go?"

Dai Gong did not speak this time; instead, after a meaningful glance from him, Company Commander Jin Dan said: "We dare not deceive the Major. 'Over one thousand' was the number when the convicts and slaves from Liewei Commandery assembled at Changling."

"Coming from Liewei, it was the dead of winter, a journey of over a hundred li. Losing a hundred men along the way is nothing unusual. Some threw themselves into the Wei River trying to escape; others slipped away during the night rest stops. Some managed to flee successfully; others were pursued, captured, and beheaded — impossible to count precisely. We lumped it all together as 'over a hundred.' It was inconvenient to report upward, so they were still counted in the total."

"Inconvenient" was a lie; the real reason, of course, was to make it convenient for the officers to draw phantom pay. Although the Boar-Rush Braves were issued no coin or silk, the grain they ate every day was big business. The court issued provisions based on the total troop numbers reported by the army; these were then allocated by the staff of the General of Renewal down to the various Generals and Colonels, and from there further down to the small camps, finally becoming the meals the Boar-Rush Braves ate each day.

By relying on phantom names — men on the registers who did not exist — the officers could reap rich profits.

This was standard practice. When Diwu Lun had been Head of the Household Section, every time there was a grain inspection, a fire dragon would conveniently burn the granary. And every time there was a personnel check, this sort of "ghost soldiers borrowing grain" scheme would be cooked up. Conversely, powerful families liked to underreport their population, while army camps were only too eager to overreport.

Dai Gong put on a show of extreme indignation, pointing at the officers: "You lot have such audacity! Deceiving me for so long — it truly enrages this old man."

He then turned back to face Diwu Lun and cupped his hands: "Major, now that we know the true numbers, shall we report this to the Colonel?"

Diwu Lun, however, shook his head: "I too have been a petty clerk, and I know well how hard it is for all of you. Who doesn't need to feed a family and support their own private guests and retainers?"

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that today's ordeal was over.

They were just about to praise Diwu Lun when, unexpectedly, his tone shifted: "But when I was Head of the Household Section, I had a habit: regardless of whether the population figures for each village ward were accurate or not, I would always send junior clerks to count them one by one before accepting the numbers."

"The same applies in the army. The soldiers in every tent have now eaten their evening meal and returned to camp to rest, forbidden to go out. Why not take advantage of the remaining daylight and simply count the men in every squad, one by one!"

At these words, the whole hall was stunned. One Centurion immediately rose in indignation: "So what you're saying, Major, is that you don't believe the numbers we wrote down?"

Diwu Lun motioned for him to sit: "Who among men is without error? There are always omissions. Grain entering the granary must be tallied every day — a single tally takes a full hour. Can counting living men be harder than counting dead grain?"

"Gentlemen, rest assured: I am not an unreasonable man. I will not pursue this matter of inflating the troop rolls and counting dead men as living. But as Major, I must know with absolute clarity exactly how many soldiers remain in this camp!"

With that, Diwu Lun ordered all the junior officers present to rise. From the dozen-odd men he had brought with him, he assigned one to accompany each officer back to their tents to count heads.

After they left, the two Company Commanders and the Centurions, compelled to remain in the hall, looked at one another in dismay. Some even began to stare at Diwu Lun, their gazes laden with meaning.

Fortunately, Diwu Lun had brought his own private retainers. The most loyal, Pingdan, and two other personal guards stood flanking him with blades drawn; tonight they would also stand watch outside his quarters. Otherwise — well, in this army camp he had just entered, he truly could not have slept soundly. It was entirely possible that "Major Diwu Lun, due to extreme exhaustion, suddenly passed away"!

After a long two quarter-hours, the men who had gone out returned one after another. The true numbers that the entire body of officers had been covering up and concealing were at last delivered into Diwu Lun's hands.

"Eight hundred and thirty-seven men — so few?"

Reading out this hard-won tally, even though Diwu Lun had been mentally prepared, he could not help but feel a chill.

From over a thousand, to over nine hundred, to eight hundred — as the water was squeezed out bit by bit, what lay revealed before him was a brutal figure. Every single one was a living, breathing human life!

Dai Gong began his wailing again: "This old man has been managing this camp on behalf of others for two months, yet never detected such enormous fraud. Guilty, I am guilty! Major, we absolutely cannot let this rest. Let me report this matter to Colonel Liangqiu — we must punish this to the fullest extent!"

How ridiculous. You are Colonel Liangqiu's man — would the Colonel not know about a hole this big? From the Colonel all the way up to the General, they were all surely feeding on phantom rations. This was a vast chain of interests. Every officer who entered the camp, no matter what their original intentions, would be dragged into the mire within a fortnight, because inflating the troop rolls was a colossal lie that required everyone's participation — they only needed to fool one man: the Emperor, Wang Mang.

The moment Diwu Lun tore through this thin veil, he would become the target of every officer in the entire army!

Once they reached the frontier, he might well be sent out as the vanguard, and from behind would come the backstabbing of countless furious colleagues.

The greatest enemy is the Xiongnu?

One of our own!

So Diwu Lun sighed and said: "I have heard that an Emperor of the Former Han once said, 'When officials are not honest and fair, the Way of governance declines.' Now the petty officers all work diligently, yet their salaries are meager. To expect them not to prey upon the common people — how hard that is! You officers do not have it easy either. This matter will rot in my heart alone; it will absolutely not be reported upward."

Having said this, he added: "You have all worked hard today. I have also brought from home some fine linen cloth woven by my own clan. It cannot compare to silk, but if you gentlemen do not mind, each sergeant and officer shall have one bolt, each centurion two bolts, and the two Company Commanders five bolts each."

Though it was only linen, it was still a decent gift. The tense atmosphere that Dai Gong had stirred up eased at once. This Major really knew how to handle things. Faced with a red envelope from the boss, who would refuse? Jin Dan wiped the sweat from his forehead and led the cheers.

After the crowd had dispersed, Diwu Lun's expression grew more and more severe.

It was truly terrifying. From conscription to today, in just over two short months, this battalion's strength had evaporated by thirty percent — some had seized the chance to desert and hide, others had frozen or starved to death. Such conditions were even more the norm among the Boar-Rush Braves, and indeed throughout the New Army.

Diwu Lun now understood how General of Renewal Lian Dan, when he was in the Southern Commandery, had managed to lose sixty or seventy percent of his forces without even fighting a battle.

He understood even more clearly why, since the founding of the Xin dynasty, the army had won so few victories in its campaigns against the four barbarian quarters — even the city-state troops of the Western Regions could thrash them.

"An army like this — before the fighting even begins, it is already defeated!"

His work for the night was not yet done. Diwu Lun needed to draw up a table, calculating the proportion of hidden men for each platoon's sergeants, officers, and centurions. Though everyone ate empty salaries and fielded ghost soldiers, there was still a difference between who ate more and who ate less. This would determine whether, in Diwu Lun's little notebook, they got a ✓, an ✗, or a?.

As for that Dai Gong — he already had a big, bold ✗!

At that moment, the Seventh Squad Leader came to report that among the Boar-Rush Braves, someone claimed to be an old acquaintance of Diwu Lun.

"An old acquaintance?" Diwu Lun thought it over. His own family had obediently paid the slave tax of three thousand six hundred cash per person. Could it be some small farmer he had once met in passing when he served in the Revenue Section — someone who, unable to produce the property tax, had been arrested and then forced into the ranks?

When the Seventh Squad Leader brought the man in, Diwu Lun did not recognize him at first. Only when the man pushed aside his disheveled hair, his much-thinner face breaking into a bitter smile, and said: "Master Diwu, it is me — Xuan Biao."

It turned out to be the son of Xuan Bing, the renowned scholar living in seclusion in Xiuling County. This Xuan Biao, young and full of fire, had once quarreled with Diwu Lun because he scoffed at Yang Xiong. How had he ended up among the Boar-Rush Braves?

Xuan Biao was now in a wretched state, his former arrogance long gone. He had no time to explain, only staring at the steaming midnight snack on Diwu Lun's desk and murmuring: "I… I'm hungry."