Chapter 290: Zhang the Bodhisattva Who Rewards Good and Punishes Evil (Seven Thousand Characters, Two Chapters Combined)

South of Liangzhou city, with five or six thousand able-bodied laborers working on it, the Zhaowu Gate was quickly repaired and made as good as new.

Yue Saonu made the acquaintance of a fellow unlucky soul much like himself here — a minor headman of the Wen clan of the Huangyang tribe, named Wen Chongle.

Though he was called a headman, the Wen clan numbered only a few hundred people in all; never mind a minor headman, even a true headman counted for little.

Wen Chongle never said why he had been tossed from being a minor headman to hauling bricks at the city wall, but that did not stop Yue Saonu from taking him as a bosom friend.

The two of them shirked and slacked together, and together they secretly robbed other laborers of their white-flour steamed buns and sesame flatbreads.

These two items were not available at every meal, nor in unlimited supply; they appeared only at the midday meal, as the Shazhou Han called it, and each man got one of each, no taking extra — after that, it was all the millet rice you could eat.

So in many places the overseers could not see, the jungle law of big fish eating little fish still went on.

Many of the lowest laborers had barely ever tasted the flavor of a white-flour steamed bun, unless they dared risk a beating by gulping it down right when the overseers handed out the food.

"The midday meal is here! The midday meal is here! All laborers line up by squad, same rule as always — the Captain collects the food, and the steamed buns and sesame flatbreads are handed out in order.

Today there is stewed mutton. Any motherfucker who dares disrupt the order gets the whole squad punished together — millet rice only."

Gulp! Yue Saonu and Wen Chongle exchanged a glance and swallowed at the same time.

But they did not dare make trouble. The Shazhou Han meant what they said; if they caused everyone to lose the stewed mutton, the furious crowd would probably tear the two of them to pieces.

In most people's impression, steppe peoples with cattle and sheep never lack for meat.

But in fact that is completely wrong. Whether on the Qing-Tang Plateau or the great desert steppe, a single sheep is extremely precious.

What the herders ate all year round was no more than millet, wild greens, mushrooms, and dairy products; if they could get a bit of wind-dried game meat, that was already considered good.

A sheep — a fine thing that keeps itself fresh and takes up no space — how could it be eaten any time one pleased?

"It's that same stewed mutton — star anise, nutmeg, ah! And the scent of bay leaves too.

Fuck his mother, when my old man was still alive, our family couldn't eat mutton with this many spices once in a whole year. It must be rich, tender, and without a trace of gaminess!"

What Yue Saonu missed most was the time when his father was still alive and their family was still the headman family of the Yue clan on the East Great River.

Among the laborers building the wall, he brought up his former minor-headman status and his old man at every moment, as if this could show that he was not the same as the other laborers.

The food was brought back, and each man received his one steamed bun and one sesame flatbread. A huge wooden tub was carried over by several squad generals, and inside it, large chunks of mutton were piled up in a heaping mound, even the broth carrying a rich, oily sheen.

Yue Saonu kept swallowing his saliva. At the usual pace, by now he and Wen Chongle would have needed only a single glance to cow everyone in their squad.

Then they would easily pick out the steamed buns and sesame flatbreads they wanted, and get a full bowl of stewed mutton on top.

But this time he did not dare, because a big man even stouter than Wen Chongle was sitting in the middle of everyone.

This was their squad's Captain, a brave warrior who had followed the Dharma King Bodhisattva back from India. It was said he had personally slain over a hundred backsliders from the Buddha and had bathed in the Buddha's light on Vulture Peak.

Wen Chongle looked a bit sheepish. Ten days earlier, egged on by Yue Saonu and the others, he had challenged the Captain and been easily knocked down, and since then no one had dared make trouble.

Lu Sanlang was even more dejected. He deeply regretted that back then his mouth had no gatekeeper and he had let slip the secret of the Loyalty Treasury, landing him in his current sorry state.

Although beneath the walls of Kesai city he had acted decisively and stabbed Yusuf to death, that had only saved his life. He had never had the chance to enter Zhang Zhao's inner circle, so much so that when they attacked India he had not been able to go along, and had instead been assigned to stay behind and guard Huwen city.

This was not simply a matter of failing to enter the inner circle. By not going to India, he had failed to gain a single bit of silver, a single Hu dancer, or a single merit.

The Anxi Army descendants who had been trained alongside him by the Karakhanid state as ghulams had all distanced themselves from him one by one; some had even won great merit, and their positions were now above his.

These laborers, passing rumors around, said he had gone to India and slain over a hundred backsliders from the Buddha, bathed in the Buddha's light, and so on — to Lu Sanlang's ears, it sounded all the more ironic.

This time Zhang Zhao had drawn a large number of low-ranking officers and brave men from the Guiyi Army to serve as officers in the wall-building force, precisely to train up a batch of qualified officers. They appeared to be overseers, but in fact they too were being assessed.

In this assessment, Lu Sanlang was once again the one at the very bottom.

It was not that his ability was lacking. Among the ghulams, the strong bullying the weak and strength being supreme was entirely acceptable.

But in the Guiyi Army that no longer worked. His squad, because the bullying among the laborers was the most severe, had been judged unqualified by the evaluating officer corps.

Under Lu Sanlang's watch, the big chunks of stewed mutton were, unprecedentedly, distributed starting from the smallest and weakest laborers. The weakest got the biggest chunks, which frightened these timid fellows so badly they did not even dare eat, trembling and at a loss.

And the two troublemakers, Yue Saonu and Wen Chongle, received only a few scraps of meat. Fortunately there was still plenty of broth, and the laborers distributing the meat ladled it all into the two men's millet rice.

Lu Sanlang waited until everyone had finished eating before rising to leave. He swept his gaze over the several hundred laborers, looking especially at Yue Saonu and Wen Chongle for a few moments.

"These past few days you were new and unfamiliar with things, but from today on, I want you to remember: our Guiyi Army has the Guiyi Army's rules.

Once you are here, everyone is a comrade. There is no strong or weak, only greater or lesser ability. Everyone must be friendly and help one another — what matters is fairness.

Some people think others do not deserve the same treatment as them, but I say this: either you do not eat from the same pot as him, or since you eat from the same pot and are comrades, then you must be friendly and help one another.

To those who have been bullied to death and still dare not say a word, I also tell you this: everyone has one head and two hands. If you cannot beat him, so be it — but if you do not even dare fight him, then you are no man!"

Lu Sanlang's side had been practicing jungle law, and only after being judged unqualified did he start trying to make amends.

Over on Yang Shouli and Guo Guangsheng's side, the scene had long been one of harmony and mutual affection.

The laborers under them worked with one heart and one mind. If someone fell ill, all his comrades shared his tasks for the day; if someone was a bit frail, the good food was always given to him to eat first.

When Yang Shouli set a task, everyone howled and threw themselves at it, determined to finish even at the cost of their lives.

This actually had a great deal to do with the three men's circumstances and the environments they grew up in. In Lu Sanlang's childhood, the Luo family mountain stronghold had been broken, and what he saw after that was the strong devouring the weak.

One must understand that the ghulam system of the Muslim faith had a very high elimination rate.

Back then, over a hundred youths from the Luo family mountain stronghold had been captured along with them, and in the end only twenty or so survived to become ghulams.

Where the rest went, no one knew. In any case, after they disappeared from the military camp, Lu Sanlang never saw them again.

These experiences shaped Lu Sanlang's present character: sinister, selfish, and skilled at completing tasks alone.

Guo Guangcheng and Yang Shouyi were different. When Guo Guangcheng was born, the Guo family's strategy of using the Church of the East to wrap around the clan had already taken shape.

Although there were still some challenges from outside, they could no longer completely destroy the Guo family. Moreover, since the clan had never had many sons, the Guo family placed great emphasis on unity among the brothers of the clan.

Yang Shouli's upbringing was even more extreme than Guo Guangcheng's. Ever since they chose to go far away to the Ningyuan Basin, they had constantly been under expulsion and attack from other powers.

The Yang, Xue, Zheng, and other families had to band together extremely tightly just to survive in that harsh environment.

The idea Zhang Zhao proposed — of upholding the thought of friendship and mutual aid in the Guiyi Army — the Anxi Army descendants of New Kucha had already been practicing for decades. Even without Zhang Zhao's instruction, Yang Shouli would have done the same.

Not far from the south gate, in the great residence of the Shen family, Zhang Zhao was receiving the great chief of the Yangfei Valley, Shen Zhihai, and his son Shen Nianban.

After witnessing Zhang Zhao's mighty military strength and strong Han-style character outside Mingwei Garrison Fort, Shen Zhihai and Shen Nianban immediately became active promoters of Zhang Zhao's cause of converting the barbarians back to Han ways and guiding the six Wenmo valley tribes to return to their homeland.

"Military Governor, the registers of the six valley tribes who call themselves Wenmo are all here."

Shen Nianban spread out before Zhang Zhao a somewhat crude map and a thick account ledger, while Shen Zhihai explained each item to Zhang Zhao in turn.

"Among the Six Valley Tribes, besides my Yangfei Valley Shen family, only the Zhao family of Xiying River still retains a great deal of Han culture.

My Shen family ancestors once served as Left Wing Escort Officer of the Lintao Army under the Military Governor of Longyou, and the Zhao family ancestors were garrison commanders of Wucheng Defense Post in Liangzhou.

Yangfei Valley and Xiying River are neighbors. Commander Zhao of the Zhao family came to see me the day before yesterday, saying he wished to pay his respects to the Army Commander.

I venture to ask the Army Commander not to begrudge him a meeting. If the Zhao family can be brought back into the fold, the entire Wenmo Six Tribes will be greatly shaken, and the Zhebu family of Hongyuan Valley, who already intend to submit, will also draw closer."

Zhang Zhao looked at the map and smiled. "The Zhao family was still making excuses just days ago. Why so eager now?"

Shen Zhihai laughed along with him and cupped his hands to Zhang Zhao in admiration.

"This is all thanks to the Army Commander's brilliant methods! By taking the opportunity of repairing the inner and outer walls of Liangzhou, you conscripted a large number of able-bodied men from the Zhao family.

And these conscripts not only suffered no harm in Liangzhou city, they could even eat three meals a day, every one of them growing plump and strong. In just a few days, word of the Army Commander's benevolence spread throughout the entire Xiying River.

The Zhao family had long wished to return to their homeland, but had simply suffered from the lack of a reliable person to recruit them. Now that the Army Commander has arrived, it is simply water flowing into a channel."

Hearing Shen Zhihai speak thus, Zhang Zhao could not help feeling somewhat pleased with himself. Conscripting able-bodied men from the various Wenmo tribes and the Han people of Liangzhou to repair Liangzhou was truly a brilliant move, better than buying off the Wenmo Six Tribes and the Han leaders of Liangzhou with money.

In just over ten days, the reputation of Zhang Zhao's benevolence had already spread as far as Shanzhou, Lanzhou, and other places.

Moreover, a strange phenomenon had appeared: many able-bodied men who had not been conscripted to repair the city walls, and even residents of Liangzhou city itself, were actually volunteering for corvée labor for the sake of such treatment.

In this era, that was truly extremely rare. Normally, hearing of corvée labor was like hearing of life-and-death separation.

With Zhang Zhao, the repair of Liangzhou city had originally been planned to conscript only around five thousand men, but now the number had swelled to fifteen thousand.

Such massive projects as the south gate and west gate of Liangzhou were nearly completed in just over twenty days.

"Army Commander, please look. The entire Wenmo Six Valley Tribes south of Liangzhou should include Guangwu City in Lanzhou, the southern mountains of Guzang, and the two defense posts of Zhangye and Wucheng, totaling about thirty-three thousand households and one hundred ninety-seven thousand four hundred people.

And my Yangfei Valley, Xiying River, and Hongyuan Valley alone have over nineteen thousand households and more than one hundred ten thousand people. As long as these three valley tribes are willing to follow the Army Commander, the return of the Wenmo Six Valleys to Han rule will be accomplished!"

Shen Zhihai was very excited, but his son Shen Nianban clearly held a different view. He pursed his lips, seeming to want to speak but holding back, and in the end said nothing.

But Zhang Zhao noticed, and nodded toward Shen Nianban. "Nianban, if you have something to say, say it. No need to hold back."

Seeing Zhang Zhao's approval, Shen Nianban ignored his father's look, cupped his hands to Zhang Zhao, and spoke.

"In truth, the Army Commander no longer needs to worry about which of the Six Valley Tribes will submit and which will not, because the Army Commander has five thousand heavenly soldiers of his own, and now also holds fifteen thousand able-bodied men, all reorganized according to military standards. Issue them swords and spears and they are a crack force.

Most of them are locals. Promise the strong ones high office and rich rewards, bestow gold and silver on the ordinary ones, and order them to serve as the vanguard. Who among the Six Valley Tribes would dare stand against them? They would be too busy throwing down their weapons to surrender!"

"Hahaha! Truly a young hero!" Zhang Zhao burst out laughing. This Shen Nianban had actually seen where Zhang Zhao's killing move lay. Interesting.

But he could tell that if others were not blind, they would surely see it too.

"Old Shen, I see your son is no ordinary talent. Why not let him come to my side and serve as a junior officer? He could also send letters to the Six Valley Tribes.

Any brave and clever young warriors of the various tribes who are willing may all serve in the Hexi Military Governor's office and the Guiyi Army."

Shen Zhihai nodded. He knew Zhang Zhao was striking with both hands at once — on one side winning over the conscripted laborers building the city walls, on the other recruiting the heroes and warriors of the Six Tribes. Once these two things were secured, the Six Valley Tribes would have no way out.

"I have heard that the twenty-second of next month is the Army Commander's birthday. Is that true?" Seeing that his proposal had not been adopted by Zhang Zhao, Shen Nianban asked about another matter.

"That's right. I will be twenty-four then." Zhang Zhao felt somewhat emotional. When he had transmigrated, he had not even been twenty, and now he was almost twenty-four.

Shen Nianban's eyes went red with envy. Zhang Zhao was only five or six years older than him, but their achievements could no longer be mentioned in the same breath.

"In that case, by then the inner and outer parts of Liangzhou will be newly repaired. The Army Commander could use the celebration of his birthday as a pretext to invite the leaders and headmen of the various tribes to Liangzhou, build a batch of residences to bestow upon them, and invite them to take up residence. Seeing the prosperity of Liangzhou with their own eyes, they will naturally be willing.

If there are a few unwilling ones, they surely would not dare object. As for those who are summoned but do not come, a great army should be sent to exterminate them, to overawe the petty."

Zhang Zhao nodded repeatedly after hearing this. Shen Nianban's thinking had once again coincided with his own.

As the Army Commander of the Guiyi Army occupying Liangzhou, if he invited them for his birthday and anyone dared not come, that would give him a reason to send troops.

If they did come, with fine wine and delicacies, grand mansions, fine horses and ornate carriages laid on, they would inevitably be kept lingering in Liangzhou for quite some days.

By the time the tribal leaders returned to their tribes, Zhang Zhao would have long since consolidated his position, and they would have no choice but to submit.

Thinking of this, Zhang Zhao looked up and said to Shen Zhihai: "Your son is a great talent. This plan is workable. Why not let Old Shen take the lead? If this matter can be accomplished, the Shen family of Yangfei Valley shall be first among the Wenmo Six Tribes."

On the very next day after Zhang Zhao's discussion with the Shen father and son, the Zhaowu Gate, the south gate of Liangzhou city, was already fully repaired.

More than ten thousand laborers had worked there for just over twenty days to complete the most complex construction of the south gate.

Zhang Zhao had originally wanted to pay the laborers their corvée wages every day, but the workload proved too great, and he had to change to a single unified payment after the completion of the south gate.

Outside the repaired Zhaowu Gate, the laborers stood in neat formation of five hundred men per unit beneath the south gate tower of Liangzhou.

After these days together, the laborers had come to fully trust the Guiyi Army, and their admiration for Zhang Zhao was boundless — their form of address for him had simply become Dharma King Bodhisattva.

When they had been conscripted for corvée labor, none of them had imagined that not only would they eat their fill, but they would eat better than usual. The stewed mutton of the labor camp had become everyone's favorite.

Their state of mind now was completely different from when they had first been conscripted.

They had grown accustomed to working under the command of officers of the Guiyi Army at every level, and the laborers, originally gaunt and sallow, had one by one grown strong.

Many of them were even thinking about whether they could continue working for the Guiyi Army and keep enjoying such food.

The corvée wages were distributed by Zhang Zhao personally — only two copper coins per person per day, which in later times would be about eight or ten yuan.

Wages like that would make even capitalists of later ages exclaim "a true professional."

But in this era, with the guarantee of full meals, treatment for illness, and decent lodging, the fact that there was actually corvée pay had already shocked them into speechlessness.

In the past, with corvée labor, ten men going and seven returning was the norm. But this time, apart from a few who fell ill, not a single person had died of overwork.

When distributing the corvée wages, Zhang Zhao still felt some pain in his heart, because if this standard continued, repairing Liangzhou and the five forts of Liangzhou, as well as the two counties of Guzang and Shenniao, would cost an estimated four hundred thousand strings of cash or more.

But at the same time he felt it was entirely worth it. Of the fifteen thousand laborers, more than six thousand came from the various Wenmo tribes, and more than six thousand came from the Han people and other ethnic groups around Liangzhou.

Zhang Zhao had spent only four hundred thousand strings of cash to gain their complete loyalty. With these people in hand, the leaders of the Wenmo Six Tribes would have no choice but to cooperate with Zhang Zhao.

Otherwise, as Shen Nianban had said, Zhang Zhao could drive them as the vanguard and easily take the Six Tribes.

After the corvée wages were distributed, this group of laborers was to be disbanded, because the laborers for repairing the five forts of Liangzhou and the county seats of Guzang and Shenniao would need to be newly conscripted.

So Zhang Zhao arranged a ceremony at the end. The first to mount the platform was a laborer who was carried up, his legs below the knees already twisted out of shape.

Zhang Zhao held the hand of the laborer with the broken legs, squatting on the ground as he looked at the laborers below the platform.

"This is Zhao Silang of Xiying River. Six days ago, a log fell from the corner tower and was about to crash into the crowd. Zhao Silang rushed forward and pushed three of his comrades aside, but his own legs were crushed."

The crowd began to buzz. Everyone knew of Zhao Silang's rescue. Some were full of admiration, others sighed for him.

More of them said he was a fool — he broke his leg saving someone else. The other man came out fine, but his own life was ruined.

On the platform, Zhang Zhao seemed to know what everyone was thinking. With a wave of his hand, a sturdy ox, a mule, ten bolts of silk, fifty bolts of white cotton cloth, and a hundred strings of cash were led up onto the platform.

Zhang Zhao swept his gaze around and said in a loud voice: "Some call this foolishness. I do not see it that way!

I call it loyalty to one's comrades! Since some of you say Zhao Silang is a fool, then I shall prove to you that it is not foolishness at all.

Because this ox, this mule, this silk, and this silver on the platform are all rewards for Zhao Silang."

At these words, the voices of the laborers below swelled into a roar. Among the impoverished six Wenmo tribes, a sturdy ox and a strong mule were the guarantee of a man's survival.

Even with Zhao Silang's crippled legs, with an ox and a mule he could still rent out the animals each month and earn enough silver to live on — and then some.

This fortune, worth at least three hundred strings of cash, was Zhang Zhao's way of proving to everyone that Zhao Silang was no fool — that a man of righteousness would be rewarded by him.

After this stirring scene, another laborer, short and slight of build, was led up onto the platform.

Those who knew him were already shouting: "Isn't that Cui Yanchounu of the Hongyuan Valley tribe?"

Zhang Zhao likewise took Cui Yanchounu by the hand, looked at the crowd, and said: "Since we have a man of righteousness, how could we lack a filial son?

Cui Yanchounu is not strong of body, nor does he have any particular skill, but in him I have seen filial devotion.

For while all of you were fighting over white-flour steamed buns and sesame cakes, Cui Yanchounu hid away the delicacies he had so rarely obtained.

Because he remembered that his mother had never tasted such fine steamed buns. Cui Yanchounu wanted to take them home so his mother could enjoy such delicacies too. So I have made a decision."

With that, Zhang Zhao waved his hand, and an even darker and thinner old woman was brought up onto the high platform.

Cui Yanchounu's eyes suddenly went wide. "Mother! What are you doing here?"

Zhang Zhao held the hands of Cui Yanchounu and his mother, one on each side, and turned to face the crowd below.

"You are a filial son, and I am a filial son too. So I must see your wish fulfilled.

Cui Yanchounu, from this day forward, I appoint you a clerk of the Hexi Military Governor's office, and I grant you a small house in Liangzhou City, so that you may care for your aged mother there.

And the salary of this clerkship is enough for your mother to eat white-flour steamed buns every single day."

The laborers below were dumbstruck. This was something they had never encountered, never even imagined.

The great men of Liangzhou City actually cared about laborers like them — actually rewarded laborers like them.

No one had ever thought they could be rewarded by lofty nobles for righteousness and filial devotion.

Many began to examine themselves. The virtues and deeds that had once seemed meaningless and worthless to them suddenly became noble.

"Silence! Silence!"

The officers of every du and jiang unit were shouting, signaling the crowd to quiet down.

After Cui Yanchounu stepped down from the platform, Zhang Zhao's face hardened, and the smile was gone.

"Where there is reward, there is punishment. Where there are men of righteousness and filial sons, there are naturally also those who are unfit.

It turned out that those brought onto the platform this time were the ones to be punished. Yue Saonu and Wen Chongle, that pair of jackal brothers, were among them.

The several dozen men who came up with them were all people who had shirked and slacked during the wall-building, and bullied their fellow laborers.

Zhang Zhao stretched out a hand and summoned Man Xiong.

As one of the fierce generals of his personal guard, the Hanshan Du, Man Xiong could not command a great army, but leading one or two hundred men was no problem for him.

Moreover, he had always been strict in managing troops, and his unit was often the one that charged into the most dangerous places.

Zhang Zhao said to Man Xiong with a smile: "These fifty men are all strong but cunning types. Today I hand them over to you. Drill them hard — drill them until they are reborn.

Yue Saonu and Wen Chongle's faces instantly turned ashen. This time, there would be no escape!

Compared to the rewards for righteousness and filial devotion, the punishment of these fifty-odd men set the laborers roaring with delight.

Though they numbered only a few dozen, the laborers they had bullied or even beaten numbered at least a thousand.

Those laborers of slighter build especially had suffered their abuse to the fullest. Now, seeing the villains finally punished, everyone was happier than if they had received their labor wages themselves.

"The Dharma King Bodhisattva is benevolent! The Dharma King Bodhisattva is just!" someone in the crowd began to shout.

In an instant, ten thousand laborers dropped to their knees like collapsing mountains and toppling jade pillars.

Though only a short time had passed, the image of Zhang Zhao and the Guiyi Army — rewarding good and punishing evil, treating laborers well, and handling matters by the rules — had instantly lit up every laborer's heart.

Seeing that emotions had reached their peak, Zhang Zhao rose to his feet, cupped his hands, and bowed in a full circle to all sides.

"This repair of Liangzhou City has relied entirely on the united efforts of our able men of Liangzhou. I am deeply grateful.

But all feasts must end. After today's parting, the days when you and I shall meet again may not be many.

So I have prepared twenty long-haired oxen, two hundred sheep, and fine rice and white flour without measure, as a farewell for you all. After the feast, return each to your own homes!"

A night of revelry followed. Everyone ate and drank their fill, the faint sorrow of parting mingled with the hope of going home.

The thin, weak laborers who had come for corvée service now all had ruddy, glowing faces.

When they left Liangzhou City, countless people knelt outside the Zhaowu Gate at the south wall and kowtowed to Zhang Zhao with a resounding knock of their heads.

One could imagine that in the days to come, the name of the Dharma King Bodhisattva of Liangzhou City would spread throughout the six Wenmo tribes, and even to the He-Huang Valley where the three prefectures of Shan, He, and Kuohe were located.

Of course, this was not the only batch of laborers drawn from the various peoples. When the time came to repair the county seats of Guzang and Shenniao and the five forts of Liangzhou, Zhang Zhao would rotate in other laborers.

The six Wenmo tribes numbered only two hundred thousand people, and their able-bodied men only fifty or sixty thousand. Even youths and older men would be conscripted by Zhang Zhao.

This was an open stratagem — one no one could refuse. With four hundred thousand strings of real silver and a heart that upheld fairness and justice, Zhang Zhao would soon trade them for a great reputation and the recognition of the common laborers of the six Wenmo tribes.

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