Chapter 115: Let Bygones Be Bygones

Standing atop the city wall at this moment, Zhou Sizhao recalled the past and still could not help but sigh deeply.

"Back then when we surrendered, we had reached a point of no other choice—every one of us was dressed like a beggar. What talk could there be of fighting?"

Just then, Min Lian, an old Dongjiang general standing beside Zhou Sizhao, suddenly spoke these words. Zhou Sizhao smiled silently and sighed:

"Yes, Old Min, it has been a full twenty years. Grand Marshal Mao, are you faring well on the other side?"

As he spoke, Zhou Sizhao slammed his hand hard against the city bricks and said bitterly:

"The court has finally had a change of conscience and intends to restore our Dongjiang Garrison. Now that Dorgon has led the main force through the pass, the opportunity must not be lost! Even if it means death, this general will fight to win a place in the Loyal Martyr's Shrine for the brothers of Dongjiang Garrison!"

Hearing these words, Min Lian's expression likewise turned grave as he nodded:

"Well said. Even if we die in battle, we can still enter the shrine. The brothers of Dongjiang Garrison deserve this honor!"

Since he was about to rise up, Zhou Sizhao naturally could not do it alone. He contacted Li Chengren, the Han army commander in Fu Prefecture, a man who was the son of Li Yingeng, the eldest son of Li Yongfang.

Although Li Yingeng was the eldest son of the great traitor Li Yongfang, he had died for the Great Ming. Li Chengren had long harbored resentment and wished to avenge his father, so he immediately saw eye to eye with Zhou Sizhao.

While Zhou Sizhao rose up in Jin Prefecture, Li Chengren actively responded in the Fu Prefecture area. Together they called upon the old Dongjiang forces and men of conscience in the Liaodong region to return to the Ming.

Back inside the city, Zhou Sizhao looked at a middle-aged man, sat down, and said:

"Centurion Li, you say you are the Chen Station agent of the Eastern Depot in Liaodong. Words alone prove nothing—how am I to believe you?"

"Exactly!" Min Lian chimed in. "As far as I know, the Eastern Depot has twelve station agents abroad designated by the Earthly Branches. The Chen Station is no small position—surely you should have a waist token or something to prove your identity?"

Hearing this, the middle-aged man chuckled and, as if handling a treasure, carefully produced a somewhat antique and worn token from his bosom, saying:

"General Zhou, this Liu has always carried this token against his skin to keep it from being discovered by the Jianzhou barbarians, never letting it leave his person. Does this prove my identity?"

Seeing this, Zhou Sizhao and Min Lian exchanged a glance and nodded in unison, actually believing him about sixty percent. If this Centurion Liu were someone sent by the Tartars, he would never possess a genuine Chen Station token of the Eastern Depot.

For the sake of caution, the two still deliberately questioned Centurion Liu at length about matters of the Eastern Depot. Seeing that he answered fluently without the slightest hesitation or evasiveness, they then believed him eighty percent.

"Has the court sent down any word?"

Zhou Sizhao's second rebellion this time was actually forced by circumstances, and it was equivalent to completely burning bridges with the Jianzhou barbarians. Therefore, he had to find a place of refuge for his subordinate officers and their families.

Now only this Centurion Liu had come seeking him, so even though Zhou Sizhao did not fully trust the man, he could only treat a dead horse as a living one.

Centurion Li understood the worries of Zhou Sizhao and the others and did not press the matter. His purpose in coming this time was merely to do his part for the court, and also because his family had served as subjects of the Great Ming for generations.

His family had been hereditary station agents placed in Liaodong by the Eastern Depot, living in one region for years on end. Every member held a legitimate occupation, and no one would ever believe that this family were Eastern Depot agents.

Within the Eastern Depot there were many station agents like Centurion Li's family scattered across various regions. Believe it or not, even on the soil of Joseon today, there were hereditary clerks of the Eastern Depot who had lost contact long ago.

To ensure the smooth operation of intelligence gathering by listening agents and station agents everywhere, the Eastern Depot even used its authority to forge large numbers of official government documents, giving these people legitimate public identities. Thus, even if someone investigated, unless the Eastern Depot voluntarily handed over its records, no trace or clue would ever be found.

There was one matter that Chongzhen had once discovered in the Eastern Depot's archives, and from that day on he held a deep appreciation for the Depot's power.

During the Tianqi era, when the so-called eunuch faction was at the height of its power, there was a scholar in the Liaoyang area named Wu Changchun who, having nothing better to do, went to visit a brothel.

Brothels were places where scholars gathered to drink and amuse themselves. Wu Changchun had little tolerance for alcohol, and after drinking too much he began to spout nonsense, saying some unflattering things about the eunuch faction. Unexpectedly, that very night the Eastern Depot station agent reported his words verbatim up the chain.

Early the next morning, before Wu Changchun had even woken from his sleep, a large group of Eastern Depot agents burst into his room, arrested him, and subjected him to severe torture. No one knew anything about the entire process. In the end, Wu Changchun was convicted as a spy for the Jianzhou barbarians and done to death.

The whole affair was a trivial matter. Had Emperor Chongzhen not gone through the archives, he would never have known of it. But it was precisely such small matters that sufficed to show that the Eastern Depot's intelligence network had already reached its absolute peak at that time.

The Depot and Guard forces in the Liaodong region had once reached a level where "passersby on the street dared not speak recklessly." Under the vigorous deployment of the Nine Thousand Years Wei Zhongxian, whom the Donglin Faction never tired of vilifying, the Eastern Depot's intelligence apparatus had in truth already formed a vast web during the Tianqi years that ordinary people could scarcely imagine.

If the Emperor wished to know anything about a person, within no more than three days a diligent agent would faithfully present that person's every recent move—even every word spoken—to the Emperor's hands.

For the scholars and literati of the realm, the omnipresent Depot and Guard were their public enemy.

Because if the Depot and Guard continued on like this, the scholars would barely make a decision before the Emperor knew of it, and talk of controlling the court would be utterly impossible.

Now the Eastern Depot had been abolished due to Emperor Chongzhen's youthful impetuosity in years past, and the Emperor's most capable running dogs had been swept up in one net by their own master. The Donglin Faction had become the greatest winner.

When Chongzhen had crossed over, a group of Donglin grandees dominated the court. In the regions, the Fushe Society of Jiangnan joined hands with wealthy merchants—one controlling public opinion, the other managing the realm's lands on behalf of the Son of Heaven. This emperor was nothing but a blind man with his hands bound.

In the more than ten years that the Depot and Guard had vanished without a trace, almost every single day had been a festival for the scholars of the realm.

Countless capable clerks once stationed in Liaodong had lost their iron rice bowls when the Emperor decreed the abolition of the Eastern Depot, and had now been out of contact for over a decade.

What Wang Cheng'en needed to do now was to continuously go through the preserved Eastern Depot records and gather together, as best he could, the scattered intelligence personnel of the Depot from all regions.

In history, when the Tartar Qing entered and ruled the Central Plains, combined with Chongzhen's abolition of the Depot and Guard, these station agents gradually faded into obscurity, truly swallowing into their bellies the intelligence they had gathered over many years in Liaodong. No one would ever speak of old matters again.

But the situation now was different. Recently Centurion Liu and the others had suddenly received word from the capital that Emperor Chongzhen had not only reestablished the Eastern Depot several months prior, but had also set up the Western Depot and the Inner Depot in full.

Likewise, the Embroidered Uniform Guard had undergone a major reform. Emperor Chongzhen had successively executed the nine clans and ten clans of several prestigious Donglin ministers, and had dismissed and exterminated the family of Luo Yangxing, the Regional Military Commissioner of the Embroidered Uniform Guard who had colluded with the Donglin Faction, replacing him with Li Ruolian, a man of common birth.

All these rumors sufficed to show that Emperor Chongzhen had now cast aside the Donglin Faction and begun walking the old path of the Zhu family emperors—re-employing the Depot and Guard. For the clerks who had lain dormant in Liaodong for decades or even many generations, this was truly tremendous good news.

Thinking of this, the Centurion surnamed Li said solemnly:

"According to my Eastern Depot's flying dispatch, His Majesty has personally decreed that all those who set things right and return to the Great Ming shall have past offenses forgiven. His Majesty has also ordered the reconstruction of Dongjiang Garrison, with Huang Fei, nephew of Grand Marshal Huang Long, as its first Regional Commander. His Majesty has personally appointed you, General Zhou, as Vice Regional Commander of Dongjiang Garrison. Congratulations!"

"His Majesty has already issued an edict rehabilitating Grand Marshal Mao! And after you return to the Ming, the families of all of you will be properly settled in the capital. All back pay of military wages and equipment owed over the years will be issued to everyone in full. All other treatment will be no different from that of other imperial troops. Rest assured, General!"

Hearing this, Zhou Sizhao was overjoyed and hastily said:

"Is what Centurion Li says true? Did His Majesty really say such things? You're not just trying to cheer me up?"

In the eyes of these Eastern Depot clerks, Emperor Chongzhen had long since become a wise and enlightened monarch comparable to Hongwu and Yongle. How could they allow Zhou Sizhao and his men to harbor doubts? Centurion Li immediately said with indignation:

"My family has lived in Liaodong for generations—how could I deceive you?"

"Besides, the flying dispatches of my Eastern Depot have always been personally written by the Director himself, never passed through other hands and never leaked outside. Were it not for the difficulties of the present situation, why would I show this to you at all?"