Chapter 236: Liu Chengzong's Condition

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The Lion Camp marched in, and Xining City fell into chaos.

Outside, the squad leaders were actually just chatting about seizing the city.

Cao Yao had long wanted to enter the city, but Liu Shizi insisted on keeping him outside, saying that if anything happened inside, he should set up his Big Baby cannon and blast the gate tower.

Essentially, imagining a battle was like suddenly leaning back for a fadeaway jumper while walking along peacefully — it was their form of amateur entertainment.

Of course, the defending troops on the wall were very likely doing the same thing, imagining a defensive battle.

But then the crack of gunfire from within the city interrupted everything.

Before the defenders even knew what was happening, Lion Camp outriders were already galloping through the streets, shouting at the gate guards: "Open the barricades, quickly! An imperial envoy has been assassinated!"

The soldiers of Xining had never once in their lives seen an imperial envoy; they were stunned dumb and for a moment had no idea whether they should obey and open the barricades.

The centurion on the wall also didn't know whether to obey. Gripping the battlements, he watched the cavalry unit form up not far away — cavalrymen resting their sabers on their shoulders one by one, dragging horse-artillery in a circle outside the city, blade-light glittering and helmet-gleam dazzling in the sun.

The centurion took off his helmet, clutched his hair bun, and frantically tried to imagine what consequences his actions would bring.

First of all, no matter what happened inside the city, it had nothing to do with the Lion Camp stationed outside.

If it really came to blows, as long as they still held a single city gate, countless native soldiers would come to reinforce them — Xining City ought to hold.

But outside the city, the Lion Camp had already completed their pre-entry mobilization. Though they had no siege equipment, if battle cries rose, a pincer attack from inside and out would surely lose the East Gate.

It was a battle they'd certainly win — it was just that he himself would be one of the costs of that certain victory, and his odds of surviving until the native soldiers arrived were vanishingly small.

If he wanted to survive for now, he'd have to open the gate, but if he opened it and the bandit troops truly meant to attack the city, they might not let him live either.

Having calculated every which way, the centurion cursed: "Damn it all, how'd this rotten luck land on me... Open the barricades! What if the imperial envoy really was assassinated!"

The defending banner troops felt as if they'd been granted amnesty, scrambling over each other to run and open the barricades.

Everyone has their own scale in their heart, but the banner troops didn't have as many worries as the centurion. Anyway, they were following orders: if the centurion said hold to the death, they'd die for sure; if the centurion said open the barricades, they might die; but if the imperial envoy really had been assassinated, they'd bear no blame at all.

Squad after squad of cavalry outside the gate tunnel merged from four columns into two, swaggered through the barbican, then fanned out from two columns back into four on the march, stepping into Xining City.

The vanguard quickly dispersed in single mounts, seizing every street corner, announcing that they were here to capture the criminals who had assassinated the imperial envoy, advising soldiers and civilians not to act rashly, and that martial law would soon be lifted.

This was not the first time they had done such a thing; they were very practiced at it.

The brass lion cannons creaked and rattled as warhorses pulled them through the barbican; their smoothly polished barrels made the centurion on the barbican wall drool with envy.

Superb skill, strict discipline, fine arms and armor.

Watching the Lion soldiers, every one of them with chin raised, all either youths or men in their prime, practically itching to look down their noses at people, the arrogance in their stride as they entered the city was like returning in triumph from a won battle.

Then he turned to look at his own banner troops — ages ranging from boys with hair still unbound to white-haired old men, wearing whatever they pleased, on average sixteen men to a single set of armor, every one of them hanging their heads in shame at their own shabbiness.

The centurion rubbed his head and sighed. He wanted to put his helmet back on, but his hand unfortunately brushed against the padded cotton neck-guard with no armor plates, and the hole chewed by rats — he was so angry he felt like smashing the helmet to the ground.

He thought it over and over. For one thing, he couldn't bear to part with it; for another, he didn't dare. In the end, he just obediently put it on.

It wasn't that they were too poor to afford armor. For a military town, armor was an extremely cheap thing.

This very helmet of his had been piled up in Xining City's warehouse until it grew moldy and rats chewed it; the warehouse had enough armor for every one of them to wear a full set.

But no one wore it — too hot and too tiring. Even he had deliberately removed the armor plates from the neck-guard before wearing it out.

Having too many soldiers is sometimes not a good thing; everyone thinks they can relax a little, since there are always others to rely on.

For a moment there, the centurion truly felt as if the imperial army were below the wall and the bandits above it, and he himself was just one of those detestable minor villains from the storybooks.

When Wei Qian'er sealed off the drill ground in the southwest of the city, the commandants gathered inside waiting for the imperial envoy to confer an official post on Liu Chengzu instantly fell into chaos.

Over four hundred hereditary military officers, native chieftains, and monk officials whispered among themselves, surging toward the twenty-odd chairs set out at the very front of the assembly.

Those were the seats of several non-hereditary commandants and fourteen hereditary commandants.

Panic showed on every face; only two men remained seated — Li Tianyu of the Western Count's Estate, and Qi Guoping of the Eastern Qi family.

The former was the most powerful native chieftain in Xining, with over twenty thousand clansmen; the latter's father was Qi Bingzhong, the Gansu Regional Commander who died on the Liaodong battlefield, with over four thousand clansmen and a hereditary Assistant Commandant rank.

The native chieftains of Xining all commanded their own clansmen.

These two sat right in the center, and people clamored around them, seeking their decision.

Li Tianyu was very composed: "What's the panic? If he wants to take over the city defenses, let him. Our clansmen combined number over a hundred thousand — can he kill us all?"

Qi Guoping said, "So, we just hand the city defenses over to him?"

"With such a grand show of force meant to cow us, what is he telling us? He's the dragon crossing the river, telling us local tigers to all lie low. So we lie low."

Li Tianyu was utterly unconcerned. He stretched out a hand toward the crowd and said, "He comes in and immediately presses us down until we're utterly submissive, so he can head out to Qinghai. Think about it — is that a bad thing?"

"If he came quietly, speaking sweet words to us, that would be the bad thing. Why is it bad? Figure it out yourselves."

Li Tianyu breathed a sigh of relief.

Others might not know what Liu Chengzong was about, but Li Tianyu knew.

He knew that Ningxia Regional Commander He Huchen had led troops into Yan'an and been beaten so badly he barely escaped with his life, picked clean to the bone and flesh, not even bringing back his scattered remnants — only his skin was left behind.

He also knew that after Liu Chengzong left Pingliang, the Prince of Han, Tri-Border Supreme Commander Yang He, and Yansui Grand Coordinator Hong Chengchou all spoke with one voice, saying the Guanning Army sent into the pass to suppress the rebellion had mutinied, that Cao Wenzhao and Liu Chengzong had stopped it in time, and that fortunately the Prince of Han's fief was not affected. Several people were fined a portion of their salaries, and Cao Wenzhao was transferred to Yaozhou to regroup.

Didn't mutiny earlier, didn't mutiny later — chased him four thousand li over two months without mutinying, then mutinied the moment they met Liu Chengzong.

If there's something fishy about this, then what kind of creature is Liu Chengzong?

But if there's not the slightest thing fishy about it, then what kind of creature is Liu Chengzong?

Either way you thought about it, it was terrifying. So many people had failed to handle this fellow... Li Tianyu reckoned that all their native chieftains tied together wouldn't be enough for this god of plague to toy with.

So what he feared most was Liu Chengzong treating their native chieftains with respect — that would mean this amnestied bandit coming to Qinghai to expand the frontier was just a front, and that he meant to put down roots in Xining.

Xining City was only so big. Every trade and profession was controlled by them, just like Qinghai's salt, river gold, silver mines, copper mountains, iron mountains, jade, pasturelands, and even the fish in the rivers — anything that could be claimed, big or small, already had an owner.

Over the past two hundred years, the fourteen native chieftain families of Xining had long grown tired of strife and had a mature set of rules for dividing benefits, carving up this city cleanly and completely.

Now suddenly a down-and-out Shaanxi nobody commanding a great army wanted to put down roots in Xining — all these things would have to be redivided.

To redraw the map, ganging up on all fourteen families was foolish; allying with him to carve up the other thirteen was cowardly.

Drawing in a few small chieftains, then swallowing the big chieftain families like theirs in great gulps and small bites — that was what a smart man would do.

Whether Liu Chengzong was smart or not, Li Tianyu didn't know.

But he knew that cowards would rather starve than dare to rebel, and fools could not clash head-on with the imperial pacification forces and come away unscathed.

So on the surface there were many paths, but as long as Liu Chengzong intended to seize Xining as his lair, one of the two of them had to die.

Li Tianyu had no confidence in winning, but he did not want to die either.

That was why, when he saw Liu Chengzong's cavalry surround the parade ground, he truly breathed a sigh of relief. This was not the manner of someone coming to make friends with everyone; taking over the city defenses to secure the western gate back from Qinghai—that put people at ease.

This fellow really meant to enter Qinghai.

Chen Shiwen was also among the restless, anxious crowd, but he was quite at ease himself, merely putting on an appearance of unease.

Though he had a seat, none of those circulating officials or the native battalion commanders from the great chieftain families yielded to him. By the time he squeezed into the crowd with difficulty, no one was speaking anymore, and he had not heard a single word Chieftain Li said.

All he saw was Chieftain Qi pondering for a long while before asking, "Then what if he really is a madman and truly kills us all? Do we just sit here waiting to die?"

"Why would he kill us? He wants money. If he ties us all up, he can exchange us for silver, but there's nowhere to spend it if he runs to Qinghai. If he kills us, he makes a hundred thousand enemies, and then he can forget about taking Xining. If he kills us, who could sleep soundly in this city?"

The more Li Tianyu spoke, the more he reinforced his own conviction. Steady and composed, he lifted his teacup and took a sip. "Even if he wanted to kill, he'd do it cheerfully—pull one in, strike another down, toss out some bait and make us slaughter each other."

"Even if we concede the worst and say he is a madman planning to massacre the city, how do we four hundred or so people here compare to He Huchen?"

Li Tianyu set down his teacup and told everyone to sit back down if they should be sitting and stand properly if they should be standing. "Stay calm. At the very least, die with some dignity."

The speaker had no particular intent, but the listener took it to heart.

Chen Shiwen's expression at that moment was extremely ugly—a mixture of anxious unease over an uncertain future and barely concealed satisfaction at a great vengeance fulfilled.

He had never seen these all-powerful local emperors so utterly dejected!

Especially dejected like this because of him—this was no longer the time when he had begged Chieftain Li to let his second brother study at the Li family academy and been denied!

That lamb, that lamb's death was so damn worth it!

As for whether it was because of Liu Chengzong or because of him, Chen Shiwen, Chen Shiwen felt there was no need to draw too sharp a distinction between the two.

He had already paid his respects to the mountain stronghold. What was this called?

Sharing in the glory!

Chen Shiwen was just thinking this with a heart full of excitement when his eyes happened to meet Li Tianyu's gaze, frightening him so badly his hair nearly stood on end.

He heard Li Tianyu ask, "Commander Chen, what do you think we should do?"

Li Tianyu was very puzzled. Everyone who should sit had sat back down, and those who should stand had stood back up. Only Chieftain Chen remained standing in place, and his expression was extremely bizarre.

As if wanting to laugh but choked off, wanting to cry but one slap short—what was he thinking?

"I, I was thinking..." Everyone's eyes turned and focused on Chen Shiwen's face, making him terribly awkward. Drawing on nearly a lifetime's worth of wit, his face utterly impassive, he held his breath for a moment and said, "What if the Imperial Envoy really was attacked?"

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Starting with Chieftain Qi, people's laughter rang out bright and clear, like slaps—light, slow, and ceaseless.

Chieftain Li laughed radiantly. "Commander Chen, you worry too much... In this city, besides that scoundrel himself, who else would dare lay a hand on the Imperial Envoy?"

Just as they were laughing, the troops at the parade ground gate parted, and two rows of Clean Army soldiers ran in. Someone sang out, "The Imperial Envoy arrives!"

The lion soldiers the many chieftains had imagined did not enter. Only Cao Huachun, his face grim, walked into the parade ground behind the Clean Army troops, with Liu Chengzu striding proudly half a step behind him.

Behind them came a continuous line of Clean Army soldiers, bearing official robes, official seals, imperial patents, and other items in their hands.

Once all these people had entered the parade ground, Liu Chengzong appeared outside the parade ground to the sound of clip-clopping hoofbeats, right between the two columns of Clean Army soldiers at the main gate, seated on horseback with his hand resting on his saber.

The assembled circulating officials, native officials, and monk officials hurriedly rose to salute. Cao Huachun paid them no heed whatsoever, walking to the command platform and facing south. "General Liu, receive the decree."

Liu Chengzu stepped onto the command platform and immediately knelt. Cao Huachun intoned, "By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: Liu Chengzu, for his merit in following his brother to submit to and defend the princedom, is hereby appointed General of Manifest Bravery, hereditarily enfeoffed as Commander of Xining Guard. Thus decreed."

Liu Chengzu said, "Your subject receives the decree," rose, and accepted the edict.

The chieftains below the command platform stared wide-eyed. That was it? Just a damn "Your subject receives the decree"?

What had these two brothers turned into!

One was outside on horseback, watching the show from beginning to end without dismounting; the other received the decree and just stood up, and the Imperial Envoy actually handed the imperial edict right over.

Where were the three kneelings and nine kowtows?

Where was the respectful inquiry after His Majesty's well-being?

Where was the reverent gratitude for imperial grace?

Where was the eternal obedience to the sagely instructions?

The whole lot of chieftains were thrown into an existential crisis by Liu Chengzu's decree-receiving ceremony, filled with doubt as to whether their own past methods of receiving decrees had been mistaken.

How could they possibly know that Cao Huachun was already thoroughly satisfied with Liu Chengzu?

These people were all ignorant. If they had seen Liu the Lion snatch an imperial edict, their minds would have naturally described Liu Chengzu's "Your subject receives the decree" as utterly reverent and respectful.

He had knelt, he had already declared himself a subject—what more extravagant hope could there be?

Perhaps in the eyes of these chieftains, the one outside on the red-furred horse was watching a show, but in Eunuch Cao's eyes, that bandit chief was clearly standing guard over the proceedings.

The slightest displeasure, and he might just charge in and snatch the imperial edict again!

And Cao Huachun knew that right now Liu Chengzong was displeased. No one who had just survived an assassination attempt was in a good mood.

Just moments ago, Liu Chengzong had even told him that the people of Xining harbored ill intent toward him, and that Eunuch Cao could not yet return to Beijing to serve the Emperor. He had to wait until the crisis in Xining was resolved and the mastermind behind it was found before Eunuch Cao could go back to the Forbidden City.

Cao Huachun was nearly worried to tears. He thought to himself, I'm already useless. We've already reached Xining. Any further out and the Mongol Tatars won't listen to me either. Why keep grabbing one sheep and shearing it to death?

To be honest, this was not Cao Huachun's first mission to the provinces. He had left the palace before, and back then, four stout and brawny Clean Army soldiers accompanying him had been enough to give him an unparalleled sense of security.

But here?

The Emperor had assigned him two hundred Clean Army soldiers, but Cao Huachun could guarantee that those two hundred Clean Army soldiers were even more afraid than he was.

If it were rebels seeking amnesty, Cao Huachun was not afraid. If it were rebels who had come through the fully proper amnesty procedure, Cao Huachun was not afraid either.

The problem lay in the state of this amnestied rebel being Liu Chengzong. This so-called state of Liu Chengzong was a state of seeming pacified yet not pacified, seeming rebellious yet not rebellious.

Cao Huachun always felt that in the next moment Liu Chengzong would suddenly erupt, attack cities and seize strongholds, and raise the banner of rebellion—but he never did. Yet whenever Cao Huachun thought Liu Chengzong was being perfectly obedient now, within half a shichen he would commit some act worthy of Cao Cao or Wang Mang.

Cao Huachun could not endure this kind of stimulation. He planned to think of a way to leave Liu Chengzong as quickly as possible and simply finish everything in one go.

"Just moments ago, General Liu was attacked by assassins within the city. There are still lawless elements in this city... Xining Guard." Cao Huachun walked to the front and asked the assembled hereditary officials, "How many registered soldiers are there? I'm asking for the real number."

Li Tianyu's expression turned somewhat awkward. He said, "Not counting officers, there are two thousand seven hundred households."

"All right, you're the Seal-Holder?" Cao Huachun was overjoyed — two problems solved at once. "Commander Liu is transferring three thousand troops into the city to garrison. You lot hurry and clear out the barracks. Since you're the Seal-Holder, you go see General Liu. Whatever arrangements the General makes afterward, you just copy them exactly."

With that, Cao Huachun tossed his head and walked toward the martial training ground gate, hands clasped behind his back.

Cao Huachun was very happy. He had found another sheep for Liu Chengzong. Now he probably wouldn't be the one getting fleeced to death!