Chapter 280: County Administration

In the felt tent at night.

Banyan Taiji polished his curved blade and sheathed it, sighing helplessly: In the end, there was no escaping it!

No matter how fine the grasslands of White Granary Diba were, they were still up in the snowy highlands — those pastures were freezing in winter, with terrifying gales howling all season long, hailstorms and wind disasters everywhere, nowhere near as good as the grazing lands north of the sea.

Just as the grazing lands north of the sea could not compare to the Tumochuan Plain.

Banyan's desire to settle his herds at White Granary was merely a struggle to get his life back on track.

To put it bluntly, he simply wanted to stay as far away from Liu Chengzong as possible.

Mongols and Han had fought each other for centuries — mutual wariness was unavoidable, and even when each had something the other needed, they could never be truly close.

As a chieftain with some standing among the Kokonor Mongols, Banyan had to consider what sort of role he was playing in the eyes of the other Mongol nobles.

Of course, he did not absolutely need to save face — in fact, from the very start of his dealings with Liu Chengzong, he had never intended to.

If Liu the Lion had been willing to grant him the exclusive franchise for the Juerwan market's trade with the Kokonor Mongols, he would not have minded playing the Grand Marshal's hawk and hound.

But Liu Chengzong insisted on dealing at arm's length — he opened his doors and sold his goods, and Banyan was merely one buyer among many, so naturally he would not exhaust himself body and soul for Liu Chengzong's cause.

The significance of the Juerwan market in Kokonor was enough to make Banyan the Great Khan of all the Kokonor Mongols.

If all the Kokonor tribes could obtain good equipment, contending with the Oirat for supremacy in the future would not be out of the question.

Faced with such profit, even commanding the tribes to serve as Liu Chengzong's vanguard pawns in his struggle for the Central Plains would be worth it.

Besides, who would end up commanding whom was far from certain — if you fight your way into the Central Plains, you are my Emperor and I am your Prince of Obedience; if you cannot, I am your Great Khan, and your ten-thousand-odd bachelors will be my Yongxiebu.

Without that kind of profit, Banyan felt he still needed to preserve a little face.

This time, Banyan had come to Markham precisely to probe Liu Chengzong's views on the border — he did not care whether the border was at Nangchen or Chamdo, or even Riwoqê; none of it mattered.

At bottom, Banyan was unwilling to rely too heavily on Liu the Lion.

The few minor skirmishes on this march into Tibet alone had made Banyan realize he had to keep his distance from Liu the Lion.

Fighting alongside Liu the Lion's army had made his tribesmen stronger.

Mongol troops were not inherently limited to light-cavalry raiding and plundering, but the Kokonor Mongol tribes Banyan belonged to, constrained by their level of equipment, could only fulfill such a role.

The last incursion into Tibet had not been a pleasant experience — in pitched battle, facing the rear-Tibet cavalry with both men and horses armored in mail, whether fighting mounted or dismounted, they had been beaten until their teeth littered the ground.

And faced with the formidable strongholds of the Thirteen Fortresses of Ü-Tsang, they had been equally helpless against those things.

Although their sudden raids and plundering had yielded rich spoils, they had not withdrawn because they wanted to retreat — rather, had they remained in Ü-Tsang any longer, the situation would have taken a sharp turn for the worse.

But fighting in coordination with Liu Chengzong was different — they could use their superior numbers to launch surprise attacks, evading the enemy's main force while striking everywhere, and once the enemy's main force finished assembling, they simply left the tough nuts for Liu Chengzong to crack.

Those enemies were not difficult for Liu Chengzong to deal with.

And in pitched battle, the coordination was even more so — with the aid of jingal muskets and cannon, the sheepskin-clad Mongol riders fought as if possessed by war gods, daring to chase the mail-armored Dokham heavy cavalry all over the field with nothing but their bone maces.

This was also the source of Banyan's sense of crisis — fight a couple more battles like this, and the next time Liu Chengzong raised troops, he would not even need to go through nobles like them; just send a single Lion soldier into the tribe to shout, and the tribesmen would lead their own horses and follow.

Who could have known that he hoped the relationship between the two sides would stay just as it was now, while Liu Chengzong was deepening that relationship further.

Yet, whether it was jointly establishing government offices or adopting Liu Chengzong's laws and official posts, Banyan currently had no way to refuse.

He could only agree — on the one hand, the campaign into Tibet still required Liu the Lion's support, and on the other, he still needed the goods from Juerwan.

But once he became an official under Liu Chengzong, he would inevitably be lashed to the war chariot from then on.

Thinking about this only vexed him more — he knew Liu Chengzong intended to establish a court, and he could understand that mentality.

It was hardly surprising for a Han warlord to harbor thoughts of founding a court — after all, nearly every Borjigin dreamed the beautiful dream of restoring the Great Yuan.

Thinking is one thing, doing is another — every Borjigin had that thought, but over all these years, only one man had possessed such capability, and that was Banyan Taiji's grandfather's third granduncle, Altan Khan.

And of all people, Altan Khan had no desire to restore the Great Yuan.

Banyan thought and thought, then walked out of the felt tent and gazed toward the Han army camp where the bugle had just sounded, letting out a heavy sigh.

Independence and self-determination had become a luxury.

Banyan Taiji would not sleep well this night, but inside the official stronghold, Liu Chengzong likewise could not rest easy.

Half a watch ago, the pond scouts had delivered intelligence — Basang's Western Tibetan camp had reached the Dergé territory by evening; now everything was in readiness, and they only needed to select personnel and codify regulations before dispatching teams of officials and troops to the two counties of Markham and Luhuo.

The official contingent's destination was the former center of the Beri King's rule, Markham County; the troops were to be sent to Luhuo, which was the present border.

On one hand, the chieftains of Greater and Lesser Jinchuan needed to be overawed; on the other, traveling further southeast from there led to the Dajian Road.

The Dajian Road bordered the Tea-Horse Trading Office at Diaomen in Yazhou, Sichuan — the highest military commander in Yazhou was a Garrison Commander, with two battalion-strength government forces stationed there.

No matter how much trouble Dönyö Dorje of Beri stirred up, to the Ming court and the chieftains, it was all internal squabbling among themselves — the court probably did not even know a man named Dönyö Dorje existed.

But Liu Chengzong had become the common enemy of the nobility in Kham, and many of the nobles who had submitted to the Beri King were also, in name, court-appointed chieftains.

Liu Chengzong had not yet figured out how to deal with the Sichuan officials, but sending troops to garrison Luhuo first was definitely the right move.

"A county magistrate, a vice magistrate, a registrar, a jail warden, an inspector, and a deputy inspector — six officials, supported by thirty-six clerks: twelve Han, twelve Mongol, and twelve Tibetan. For the county seat, fifty able-bodied militiamen; for each township inspectorate, fifty archer-militiamen."

Liu Chengzong calculated the manpower for one county — this was something he had absorbed by ear and eye since childhood, and even making it up with his eyes closed, he could describe the structure of a county yamen with near-complete accuracy.

He spread his hand over the map and said, "Markham County shall initially establish twenty-four townships. Dispatch eleven men to each township, for a total manpower of four hundred and six."

"Establish that many townships?"

Cao Yao clicked his tongue in private astonishment and said, "Commander, Markham has a total of one hundred and twenty-seven noble families with estates, large and small. Dividing that into twenty-four townships means each township will have only five or six villages."

Liu Chengzong nodded gravely and said, "That is precisely the point. The emphasis here is on training. The clerks for the county yamen can be drawn equally from the three sides, but at the township level, apart from the interpreters, every man must be one of our own."

He added, "In truth, I would rather not even have the interpreters."

Cao Yao burst out laughing and shook his head. "No way around it. Then we'll do as the Commander says — more people will make things easier to handle anyway."

"That is exactly what I mean."

Liu Chengzong paced half a circle around the hall, picked up a bowl of water, and sat to one side. "We'll set up a framework first — build the county seat, erect the yamen. Whether Markham can be well governed, I do not care; whether it can avoid turmoil, I do not know either. One set of regulations."

He drank two mouthfuls of water, set the bowl down, and said, "We need to work out a set of practical, actionable regulations and systems. At the most basic level, they must survey the fields, cattle, and sheep; conduct a population census; handle taxation, corvée labor, conscription, equipment manufacture, the circulation of laws and decrees, and defense preparations. They need to know how all this work is to be done."

Cao Yao had been brimming with enthusiasm, but hearing this, he opened his mouth, failed to produce words, and finally yawned, sitting to the side looking utterly disinterested.

Liu Chengzong had worked with him long enough that one look at his expression told him exactly what was going through old scoundrel Cao's mind. He could not help laughing. "What, does it sound too much like the Great Ming?"

Cao Yao turned his head, waved his hand lightly in the air twice, still could not articulate his thoughts, and finally clenched his fist and muttered gloomily, "How I long for a mountain stronghold!"

Once you leave the mountain stronghold, everyone is an enemy — you rob whoever you want. Back in the stronghold, the desperadoes all over the mountain, high and low alike, drink, eat meat, and chase pleasure. Then one stroke of bad luck wipes out the whole stronghold — a lifetime of pleasure, done.

The imperial court — there's not a single good thing about the imperial court.

"We carry a greater responsibility. A mountain stronghold can't fight its way back to northern Shaanxi, still less hold back the Later Jin from breaking through the passes."

Liu Chengzong let out a short laugh, then said with a straight face, "Of course, we can't be like the Great Ming. All its ills must be reformed — taxes, the advancement of talent, every aspect of these things. On the one hand, we must do better; on the other, it must suit us."

Cao Yao's low spirits settled a little. He scratched the scar on his face, looked at Liu Chengzong, and grinned. "When does the Grand Marshal plan to pay the border troops?"

That one line alone made the surrounding officers double over in laughter.

Liu Chengzong smiled too and nodded. "Military pay and salaries will have to be issued sooner or later. I reckon next year. It still depends on Gu'er Bay — once the market there starts circulating, the pay problem will be solved."

Right now, his problem was that he could not afford to pay them.

The Lion Army numbered seventeen thousand men. At one tael of silver per month, that came to two hundred thousand taels of silver a year. This was not something you could solve in Qinghai, or even in the interior, by robbery alone. It required mobile plundering to pull off.

"In this campaign, our greatest gain is these seven counties. The county and township officials for the seven counties will be drawn from the Lion Army — fifteen hundred men. I also plan to station fifteen hundred troops along the post roads."

Liu Chengzong looked at Cao Yao. "The pay and rations for these three thousand Lion Army soldiers — that is the work target for the officials of the seven counties."

Three thousand men — that meant roughly thirty-six thousand taels of silver and thirty-six thousand shi of grain in tax revenue per year.

Cao Yao counted on his fingers, then shook his head and cursed under his breath, "Damn. Being a decent person is hard."

The expressions on all the officers were much the same as Cao Yao's.

How to put it — every officer in the Sunlight Hall of the official stronghold knew perfectly well that these seven counties could very easily support these three thousand Lion soldiers.

But there was one precondition: no reform of the land system or of personal bondage.

The monasteries in the Nangqian domain had been burned down by the Bili army, and the Bili domain never had many monasteries to begin with. If you further kicked the aristocracy out of this ecosystem and filled the void with the Lion Army, supporting not just three thousand men but the entire Lion Army would be no problem at all.

But they could not not reform.

This had long ceased to be merely a matter of Liu Chengzong's personal will.

For a very long time, whether at the start when they fought for a mouthful of food or later when they fought against government troops, this army had, to put it plainly, always fought to stay alive.

Fighting for a mouthful of food to stay alive brings little honor; but the respect and affection of others bring a man honor.

That was how they had always lived. Sometimes they did trifling things for the common people; more often, they simply refrained from doing what most armies did — and that earned them respect and affection.

Men are not made of wood or grass.

From the common soldier to the officer, the Lion Army had seen death so often — not only death in battle, but death by sickness and starvation amid natural and man-made calamities. They had even grown used to suicide born of despair.

Many of them, seeing a newborn infant die young, would feel not the slightest pity or grief from the heart. They might even be baffled by another's grief — they had accepted living in such an age; death had long ceased to startle them and had become routine.

Every heart was like iron and stone.

But there is still a vast difference between a commoner dying for one reason or another in a land stripped bare for a thousand li, with the great edifice about to collapse, and a commoner in an entirely man-made environment where everything pushes them infinitely close to being a beast of burden.

The consensus of the Lion Army was: since we are already here, we must do something.

And the moment you set out to change something, supporting three thousand troops here would become somewhat difficult.

Liu Chengzong was optimistic. He nodded and smiled. "Yes, being a person is quite hard. But at least now we have seven counties. Best case, if everything here goes smoothly, we might even get this place on track without having to pour money into it."

From the very start, he had never imagined that tax revenue from here could feed back to Haibei.

He was even mentally prepared for the outcome that, once the seven counties were established, the final accounting would show the whole campaign had lost money.

The places they needed to spend were far too many. Farmland had to be redistributed, and redistribution meant providing tools, oxen, sheep, and horses. The farming tools here were all made of wood; without improving and innovating the tools, even if you divided the land, the common people could not finish plowing it.

By what right could one commoner do the work of five slaves? Tools and skill — neither could be lacking.

"And what about the other ten-thousand-odd men? How do you plan to pay them by next year?" Cao Yao thought and thought, had no other idea, and frowned. "On the money question, I can't give you any advice. But in Makang, I was thinking — could we make Gama the county magistrate?"

Liu Chengzong had been mulling over the pay problem when he suddenly heard this and could not help asking, "What do you mean?"

"We've only just set up the county administration. The laws and statutes are being supplemented and perfected bit by bit. The county and township officials and the common people also need time to get to know each other. In this period, problems can easily crop up."

Before Cao Yao could finish, he could not hold back a sly grin. "Gama would be a pretty good candidate. Marshal, give it some thought."

Liu Chengzong understood what Cao Yao meant. Bili had just been occupied; all sorts of unexpected incidents might occur in between, and further pacification might even be necessary. So he wanted to push Gama out as a scapegoat, to make the next step of work easier down the line.

"Actually, I've thought about what you're saying too, and even more than you. I've thought about using the Three Mutual Prohibition Law to appoint former minor aristocrats to posts in the government."

Liu Chengzong nodded as he spoke. "As long as the Lion Army is sound, these are all minor matters worth trying. The Lion Army is the major matter."

In Liu Chengzong's mind, there was only one major matter: the currency they would use going forward — would it be gold, silver, and copper, or Lion notes backed by gold, silver, and copper reserves?