Chapter 84: A Ming-Dynasty Version of a Protest March

For many people, it was not death they feared, but being forgotten by the court — or even forgotten by their own descendants!

These common soldiers feared being forgotten, feared that their families and descendants would receive no guarantees whatsoever. Combined with the fact that the court had not issued any pay for many years, morale naturally collapsed.

With the policy of the Shrine of Loyal Martyrs, the soldiers' worries vanished in an instant.

Those who died in battle — regardless of rank or birth — could all be enshrined and receive incense offerings. Their names, along with the heroic deeds for which they sacrificed themselves, would be remembered by the world.

After this, the court would, centered on the capital region, gradually make up the years of back pay owed to the troops. Moreover, serving the country would bring generous treatment, and if one gave one's life on the battlefield, one's children and wife would both benefit.

One point was of utmost importance: their surviving children could choose for themselves — either inherit their father's position reduced by three grades, or cast off the hereditary military household and tenant farmer status that had weighed on them for over two hundred years, becoming truly free people from then on!

In the two hundred and seventy-six years since the founding of the Great Ming, the guard station system had always been a mountain pressing down on every hereditary military household. Many children were branded with the lowly label of military household before they were even born, and could never turn their fortunes around for all eternity.

This policy let many common soldiers see a chance to turn their lives around, and they burned with fervor — some even wanted to charge out immediately and fight the roving bandits to the death, trading their own lives so their descendants could rise and live better lives. What could be more worthwhile than that!

Freed from the hereditary military household and tenant farmer status, and thanks to the protective blessings earned by their fallen kin, children could even choose to abandon the military for scholarship. Without any selection process, the court would send them to village schools or neighborhood schools to study, with all educational expenses before the age of fourteen paid by the local government.

This was such good fortune that it seemed unbelievable even when laid right before their eyes. The soldiers grinned foolishly, and many closed their eyes, desperately imagining the scene years after their own deaths in battle — a juren emerging from their household, or themselves surviving by luck, earning military merit, and bringing glory to their ancestors.

The Chongzhen Emperor valued military officers and sought genuine welfare for ordinary soldiers and common people. This edict was extremely bold — even openly violating ancestral institutions. In the entire Ming dynasty, it could be called a pioneering act.

However, this move met with collective opposition from nearly all the literati under heaven. The Fushe Society of Jiangnan convened several times, calling on scholars everywhere to openly defy the Son of Heaven's decree.

When Qian Qianyi, Minister of Rites in Nanjing, learned of this edict, he immediately held a private meeting at his home with Hou Fangyu and others. As for what exactly they were conspiring about, that remained unknown.

On the very day the court scholars of the Jiangnan Fushe Society received the edict, they held a massive protest march in Nanjing city — so large that it even alarmed Liu Fu, the eunuch garrisoning South Zhili.

Liu Fu was at the time in his own courtyard listening to music and drinking tea. Startled by the news, he nearly shattered the teacup in his hand. But he was quick to act — on one hand he submitted a memorial to Beijing reporting the matter, and on the other he immediately sent people to contact Xu Wenjue, the Nanjing Garrison Commander and Duke of Wei.

The two exchanged a few words, both knowing the urgency of the situation. In the end they went to find Shi Kefa, the Minister of War of Nanjing overseeing military affairs, because regulations required the seal and signature of the garrison eunuch, the meritorious garrison commander, and the Minister of War together before troops could be mobilized.

But at this time Shi Kefa was not in Nanjing city at all. More than a month earlier, upon receiving news of Li Zicheng's northern campaign, he had already led troops north to defend the capital.

Three of four were missing — by ancestral institution, troops simply could not be mobilized. Liu Fu, being a eunuch, naturally dared not bear such a crime. But Xu Wenjue, as the foremost meritorious noble of Nanjing, was also timid and hesitant, unwilling to make the decision.

By the time the Chongzhen Emperor at the Huangcun camp received the news, it was already the fourth day after the Jiangnan Fushe Society's protest march in Nanjing city. One could well imagine just how chaotic Nanjing had become by now.

"Bang!"

The Chongzhen Emperor slammed the table and rose in the central command tent, pointing at the messenger soldier who had come to report, and said:

"Draft an edict: appoint Ma Shiying as Minister of Personnel of Nanjing. Have Liu Fu and Xu Wenjue immediately affix their seals and mobilize troops. If any scholar refuses to submit, cut down two of them first!"

"Also, send a secret edict to Ma Shiying, saying..."

This decree was indispensable given the current situation, and the consequent damage to the collective interests of the literati under heaven was unavoidable. The Chongzhen Emperor had long been prepared for this.

On the day the decree reached Beijing, the capital exploded in uproar. However, thanks to the timely suppression by the Five Wards Troops and Horses Offices and the Eastern Depot and Embroidered Uniform Guard, the scholars were unable to stir up any real trouble.

So overall, the capital remained relatively calm.

Just as the Chongzhen Emperor was overwhelmed by chaos across the realm, at the same time beneath the walls of Bazhou, countless peasant army soldiers clad in white arrow jackets and wielding swords and spears raised high the banner of "Dashun," shouting battle cries as they surged into the city.

The excited, jubilant Dashun soldiers replaced the Great Ming's dark bird banner that had flown atop Bazhou's walls for over two hundred years, and the city was effortlessly taken into Dashun's grasp. Throughout the entire process, not a single resisting officer or soldier was even seen.

"Bang!"

With a thunderous crash, the gates of the prefect's yamen were kicked open. A square-faced man strode in at the lead. Seeing the civil officials inside scrambling in panic, he finally let out a grin.

Liu Fangliang planted his foot on the prefect, demanding viciously:

"Speak! Where have all the officers and soldiers gone!"

Liu Fangliang's expression was displeased, but mindful that Gao Bao held considerable prestige among the various rebel leaders originally under his command, he said nothing more — merely increasing the pressure of his foot to force the prefect to submit.

Ever since the Bazhou garrison had withdrawn by imperial decree, the civil officials had fallen into a state of extreme panic. Batch after batch of officials fled with their families toward the capital.

But for a civil official of the prefect's rank, that choice was far from so simple. The military officers' withdrawal followed the emperor's orders, but if he himself ran, that would be abandoning his post. Setting aside the matter of execution by decapitation, he would also leave behind a name of shame for posterity.

Moreover, the prefect of Bazhou shared the same thinking as many civil officials who opened their city gates to welcome the Dashun army — he was deliberately waiting for Dashun to come and take over completely.

The civil officials' calculations were nothing if not shrewd. After all, if Li Zicheng wanted to change the dynasty, the help of men like themselves would still be indispensable.

But when the prefect and the civil officials saw this "army of heaven's justice" that was the Dashun army, they regretted it to the very depths of their bowels. This did not look at all like a righteous army meant to change the dynasty — their every mannerism was no different from roving bandits. Why hadn't they left earlier?

Yet there was no medicine for regret in this world. Faced with Liu Fangliang's interrogation, the prefect, thinking only of protecting his daughter and wife, hurriedly spilled everything he knew in one breath.

After hearing this, Liu Fangliang moved his foot off the prefect and asked in bewilderment:

"Damn it! I was wondering why we hadn't seen a single officer or soldier in any place since we arrived in Shuntian Prefecture. Turns out this dog emperor pulled them all back!"

"What the hell is there to fight for!"