Chapter 130: Trading Horses for Men

Outside the Zuantianmao Academy, orderly recitation drifted out from within the courtyard.

Old Master Liu, in a blue-dyed stand-collar long gown, sat in the stone pavilion, looking dejected as he raised his long-stemmed pipe for a puff, and with smoke streaming from his mouth and nose, sighed: "War rages, the world in chaos."

Liu Chengzong stood in attendance to one side; hearing such a lament from his father, one of the top rebel leaders in Shaanxi, struck him as exceptionally ironic.

Or perhaps the very existence of Zuantianmao was itself an irony — this academy was larger than the old Black Dragon Mountain clan school, and on this obscure little loess knoll stood the biggest bandit academy in all the Great Ming.

Any Liu clan junior who had ever studied could find work here teaching and cultivating the young; eight beginner classrooms could provide elementary education to a hundred and sixty students.

Before long, this bunch of bandit soldiers would be able to go robbing with classical allusions rolling off their tongues.

Yang Dingrui sat to the side, carefully polishing his tortoiseshell spectacles with a fine flannel cloth, and as he wiped, he said: "The court has ordered every region to obey the conscription and lead troops to the capital for the royal relief. What is the Lion thinking?"

Liu Chengzong was staring into the distance, lost in thought, when Little Sixteen came over carrying tea, his head bobbing and swaying in the exact same rhythm as the recitation coming from the academy.

He turned his head and said: "Teacher, I feel the conscription order has nothing to do with me."

No matter how many edicts and conscriptions the Emperor issued, it would never be his turn to march to the capital's defense.

And what the Lion thought — the Emperor didn't care either.

Little Sixteen came over and set the tea down in the pavilion, and Liu Chengzong ruffled his head.

The little creature was living well now; the short hair on his head had grown in nicely, black and glossy, and his whole body was much cleaner — no longer the sight he once was, crawling head to toe with lice eggs.

Yang Dingrui picked up his tea bowl, blew on it, and smiled: "The conscription order has nothing to do with you, but the Grand Coordinators and Regional Commanders of the five garrisons along the border must all lead their standard brigades to the capital. Shaanxi has no elite troops or strong generals left. Now it all depends on what you think."

He set down his tea bowl and said: "While the relief armies march to the capital, push south to seize Fuzhou, thrust west to grip Qingyang, and garrison Suide in the north — then Yan'an Prefecture will be secure. When the border armies return from the capital next year, we can make a big move in Yansui."

With Fuzhou in hand, there would be a road south to Yaozhou and a route to send troops out to Qingyang; and with Qingyang secure, the Ziwuling Ridge — the unavoidable route for any army marching from Guyuan toward Yan'an — would be in our grip, giving us strategic depth.

Yaozhou lies within the Guanzhong region, an area almost untouched by the drought, while Suide Prefecture is the true northern gate, capable of locking the Yansui Garrison border troops outside.

The reasoning was sound, but Liu Chengzong sighed and, sitting at the edge of the pavilion, asked: "Teacher, what if it still doesn't rain next year?"

Security, territory — all of it was built on the condition that the land could be farmed. The reason Liu Chengzong currently occupied only the royal estate was not because there was a royal estate fort there.

A fort is nothing more than a pleasing sight; waking up every day inside a stone fort can give a man an unparalleled sense of security.

In reality, living inside a stone fort is no different from living in a house made of paper.

If you don't fight over every city and patch of land, you can maneuver and destroy the main force of the government army; fixate on a single fort, and you've simply picked out a graveyard piled with stones for yourself.

It was because that place lay in the Apricot River basin, where water flowed abundantly and irrigation was good — the land could be farmed.

On the surface, they had seized the court's Yan'an Prefecture, but in reality, the usable land was less than half a county's worth.

Territory was all an illusion.

Only the drought was real.

Seizing the moment before Yang Dingrui and Liu Xiangyu could speak, Liu Chengzong cut in: "The capital relief march won't go smoothly. Otherwise, I really would want to send Yang Yanchang with troops to the capital — to take a look at the Eastern Slaves."

Liu Chengzong's use of the phrase 'take a look' made Yang Dingrui and Liu Xiangyu exchange glances. Liu Xiangyu asked: "What's there to look at with the Eastern Slaves? And what do you mean, it won't go smoothly?"

Liu Chengzong didn't know how to explain.

In that other memory's Great Ming, even without the meager contribution he had made, it would still have collapsed in the seventeenth year of Chongzhen.

The Eastern Slaves were different — the Eastern Slaves were his greatest enemy.

He shook his head, bypassing his father's first question entirely, and traced circles on the stone table with his finger: "The grain I can move is probably no less than what the various capital relief forces can move. I really did consider letting Yang Yanchang lead troops to the capital, but after all my calculations, my column would run out of rations no matter what."

He dipped his finger in tea and traced the direction of the roads along the Great Wall on the stone table, dotting one border fort after another: "For the Shaanxi government troops marching to the capital, taking the border wall route is the shortest and fastest. From the Yansui Garrison, it's three thousand li; from Guyuan and Ningxia, over four thousand; from Lintao and Gansu, six thousand. The fastest takes a month; the slowest won't arrive even after two."

Liu Chengzong's expression grew more solemn as he spoke; he was genuinely distressed for the court. He raised a finger: "The three border commands and five garrisons — even if each garrison sends five thousand troops, that's over twenty thousand men. If the border wall's military forts could supply enough grain to feed six hundred men three full meals a day for a month, would my brother and I have needed to come home?"

It was a simple arithmetic problem.

If a military fort couldn't supply enough to feed six hundred men for a month, it naturally couldn't feed twenty thousand men for a single day. In other words, these capital relief armies would, over the course of two months, eat through every last grain reserve in every military fort along the Great Wall, one after another.

Those in front would have food; those behind would have none. And before the question of having food or not even arose, there was the question of whether the forts would let them eat at all.

What form this royal relief campaign would take, Liu Chengzong did not know. He believed in the loyalty and quality of the border troops — even facing the greatest hardships, there would still be stout men who broke through every obstacle and hardship to serve the Emperor in Northern Zhili, fighting the Eastern Slaves in bloody battle without a backward glance.

With a vast, teeming mass of relief troops cramming into the capital region, finding a meal would be harder than pinning down the Eastern Slaves for a bloody fight.

With his words, Liu Chengzong painted a terrifying death march in the space between 'royal relief' and 'bloody battle.'

Liu Xiangyu and Yang Dingrui fell silent.

Liu Chengzong let out a helpless sigh: "Why did the Emperor have to issue conscriptions to every region for royal relief? He knows jack shit!"

The Emperor did not know what immense honor the words 'royal relief' meant to the border garrison soldiers, nor how deeply revered the Emperor was in the hearts of those soldiers.

Still less did he know what catastrophe a single word from him would bring upon those loyal to him.

He also didn't know that people need to eat.

He knew jack shit.

Liu Chengzong suddenly asked: "Father, Teacher — do you think the name Liu Chengzong carries enough weight?"

The two men had no idea why he suddenly asked this. Yang Dingrui asked: "What's the matter?"

"The court's relief armies — there will be no shortage of deserters on the march. They won't dare return to their units. If they know of me, might they come here?"

Liu Chengzong cupped his chin in his hand, rubbing it as he looked at his father and teacher: "Should I send someone to receive them?"

It was actually a rather fanciful idea.

Yet, on careful thought, it seemed quite feasible.

Never mind Shanxi, Yansui, or Guyuan — at least in these three garrisons, the border troops had probably all heard the name Liu Chengzong by now.

With five thousand men from each garrison setting out, the journey long and rations short, three to five hundred deserters per column wouldn't be an exaggeration.

Where could these deserters run?

Either seize a mountain and become bandit kings, or come to northern Shaanxi and seek out a major leader to join.

Among these major leaders, who commanded the most loyalty from the soldiers?

After weighing it all, Liu Chengzong figured that of this thousand-odd men, at least half ought to come join him, right?

Yang Dingrui had not considered the problem from this angle before. Now that he thought about it, he slapped his hand on the stone table, nearly jolting the teacup lid off, and said: "Lion, let Yang Yanchang go with Wu Zimian!"

"Him? A few days ago, when his own name reached the Yansui Garrison, he ran to Apricot River and practically kowtowed to me. Sending him on the royal relief march would scare him to death."

Truth be told, Liu Chengzong had known Yang Yanchang for a long time too, and he knew the man wasn't the cowardly sort.

It was just that in the whole of Yan'an Guard, Yang Yanchang himself was only a probationary centurion with an inherited post — he had no foundation under him, and after his promotion, even the soldier who served him personally was dead set on following Liu Chengzong.

Put in his shoes, Liu Chengzong would also resist the idea of leading troops to relieve the capital.

A man who can command even two people — his confidence shoots up and up.

But if a man can't even command himself, where would any confidence come from?

When it was time to run, Battalion Commander Ren Quan'er would draw his blade, and the guard troops on both sides would block the way: No one runs!

And just like that, your life is thrown away.

Who wouldn't be afraid of that?

"Letting him follow Wu Zimian to relieve the capital — you think he'd actually go through with it? Didn't you say Wu Zimian doesn't have the troops' hearts?"

Yang Dingrui raised a hand and said, "Since he doesn't have the troops' hearts, then give him a little help. That bandit leader who came from Yanchuan, Wang Ziyong — hasn't he been made a deputy battalion commander? I've seen he's quite good at stirring people up. Send him to pull the main government force back for you."

Liu Chengzong's eyes gleamed.

He saw it clearly now — this teacher of his, when serving the court, was bound hand and foot; away from the court and free of those shackles, the schemes he came up with to undermine the court were one more ruthless than the next.

And a Presented Scholar at that — truly unworthy of the court's sovereign grace.

"Wang the Monk, Wang the Monk..."

Liu Chengzong murmured the name over and over. In truth, the moment Yang Dingrui spoke, the person who came to mind to handle this was Cao Yao.

When it came to forming gangs and building factions, who was better than that old rebel chief Cao Yao? And he knew both the people and the land — all the border forts along the way, from northern Shaanxi to Shanxi, he'd been to them all.

The escape route back, he knew even better.

Only, this was something Cao Yao really couldn't pull off. If he ran into He Renlong, it would be trouble.

Any fool knew Cao Yao and Liu Chengzong were in the same gang.

Besides, on the other hand, Yang Yanchang might not be willing to go.

Liu Chengzong had discussed this matter with his father and his teacher at Zuantianmao, gaining a bit more understanding of the broader situation. Afterward, he called Yang Yanchang out from Yan'an Guard, and the two of them returned to Apricot River together.

While Liu Chengzong was away gathering information, Yang Yanchang had also been doing everything he could to find out what was going on.

On the road, the two compared what each of them knew and finally reached a conclusion: for Yang Yanchang, this whole affair was an undeserved calamity.

The court's troop mobilization to relieve the capital had nothing to do with Yan'an Guard. That was a matter for the several Regional Commanders and the Grand Coordinator of Shaanxi — it was not the turn of a minor Yan'an Guard commander to stick his neck out.

Yang Yanchang's face was full of bitterness as he spoke of it: "From what I've gathered, it was that Yansui Regional Commander Wu Zimian — I don't know which screw in his brain came loose, but he actually went to Yang He to request instructions, to draw men and horses from my Yan'an Guard to join Yansui Garrison's capital-relief force."

Hearing this, Liu Chengzong had a few guesses in mind and asked, "Does he want you to bring the cavalry?"

Yang Yanchang said, "For capital defense, of course you have to bring mules and horses!"

"My guess is, Wu Zimian has his eye on your horses. He has that habit — the border troops of Yansui Garrison all know it. Back when I was at Yuhe Fort, he seized the garrison commander's horses."

"But where would I have horses?"

"You don't, but I do. He probably figures that since you beat me twice, you must have captured some warhorses by now."

That was Liu Chengzong's guess as well — there was no other possibility. If it were a matter of troops, Wu Zimian might be short, but by gathering and consolidating, scraping together two or three thousand elite soldiers was no problem for the vast Yansui Garrison.

There was absolutely no need to draw troops from Yan'an Guard. The most likely explanation was that Wu Zimian was at his embezzling again.

Besides, with bandits everywhere now and roads cut off, Shaanxi had all but given up on Yan'an Prefecture — they didn't even know the situation at Yan'an Guard.

Liu Chengzong had tried to imagine how Yan'an Prefecture looked in the eyes of those in power in Shaanxi. Basically, Zhang Nian and Yang Yanchang were a single nail.

Bandits on all sides — only this one nail still hammered into the prefectural seat of Yan'an.

Just like the circle drawn for Li Bei at Yanchuan County — a safe zone.

Step outside that circle, and it was all bandits.

Hearing this explanation, Yang Yanchang grew even more helpless: "So either way, I'm dead. If Wu Zimian has his eye on my warhorses, then no matter how I hide, I probably can't escape it."

Liu Chengzong nodded and said, "I figure in a few days, a message from that side will reach you, using some high-sounding pretext to demand your horses. Give him the horses, and the matter is settled."

"If you don't give him the horses, I'm afraid even if you fight a battle over it, he won't let it go — he'll still come demanding your horses."

Liu Chengzong said no more, only burying his head and pressing on with the journey. On one hand, he wanted to give Yang Yanchang a little time to think; on the other, he was also pondering whether there was any other way to resolve this.

Whether the capital-relief army would collapse, he had no certainty in his heart either — after all, the upper and lower limits of the Ming army... were far too hard to estimate.

If the capital-relief army didn't collapse, and Yang Yanchang led his troops to the capital region for defense, then would he run or not?

If he ran, his post was gone; if he didn't run, his life was gone.

No matter how you calculated it, it was a loss.

By the time the two reached Apricot River, Yang Yanchang still had no solution and even appealed to Liu Chengzong for help: "How about you help me seize a hundred or so horses?"

Liu Chengzong had horses and still wanted to ride them himself.

He laughed and said, "How about this — just go. Take five hundred men, and I'll get you two hundred horses."

"If I had those horses, why would I still go? I'd just give the horses to Wu Zimian." Yang Yanchang felt it was a huge loss and waved his hand. "Let him go relieve the capital himself!"

"That won't do."

Liu Chengzong's mental abacus clicked away furiously. He raised a hand and said, "Look — I give you two hundred horses, you don't go for capital defense, haven't we just lost a net two hundred horses?"

Yang Yanchang nodded. "True, but an official's rank crushes a man to death — what can you do?"

"What if we treat these two hundred horses as capital? You take five hundred men there. As soon as you arrive, give him a hundred horses first. On the capital-relief march, grain and fodder will surely be short. You bring Wang the Monk along, and I'll get you a couple more men who know the roads. On the way, get familiar with those border troops. When someone wants to desert and flee, you let them go and lead them in running."

Liu Chengzong raised his palm and tapped the center of it with his other hand. "They run to Yan'an Prefecture, I send men to receive them. We use horses to trade for his soldiers — isn't that less of a loss?"

Yang Yanchang nodded again, then shook his head. "No, brother — doesn't this just make me the one taking the loss?"

"No loss. Listen to me — two hundred horses. Get there before Wu Zimian and present them to him. Say it's Yan'an Prefecture supporting Regional Commander Wu's capital-relief effort. Once enough soldiers have deserted on the march, you simply give him the other hundred horses too. Negotiate with him to release you. If that doesn't work, let him release you and give him another hundred."

Liu Chengzong fixed his eyes steadily on Yang Yanchang. "Three hundred horses. As long as you can get me three hundred border troops back — best if you bring their squad commanders back too — then I won't take a loss. Do you dare?"