Chapter 286: A Man Who Cannot Die

The Tea-Horse Trade Office compound in Xining City.

Night fell. On the second-floor windowsill, the eunuch superintendent Zhang Yuanheng, who oversaw the tea-horse trade, finished burning his incense. Leaning against the wooden railing with his pipe, he gazed out at the myriad lantern lights of the city.

Xining Garrison was extraordinarily prosperous, but this false prosperity was built on a colossal smuggling trade that no one could control. The court had sent him to supervise the Tea-Horse Office because the office had sold a great deal of Sichuan tea, yet not a single Hequ horse that should have been traded in return had been shipped to the interior.

Zhang Yuanheng knew the reason perfectly well. Xining Garrison City was now controlled by a group of frontier soldiers whose lives had been changed by natural disasters — and Zhang Yuanheng himself was also one of those whose lives had been changed by disasters, both natural and man-made.

If there were a ranking for unlucky souls, he would certainly be near the top.

He was born in Xiong County, Baoding Prefecture. His father was a veteran who had fought in Korea; after the war ended, he returned home and used his blood-earned money to buy two hundred mu of land. His mother opened a tailor shop in the county seat. They raised four children, and Zhang Yuanheng was the third.

In those days, prices were low and the economy was booming. His eldest brother served in the capital garrison, and his elder sister married a capital soldier as well. People were fickle in their tastes for clothing, always favoring the new over the old, so his mother's tailor shop flourished.

In Zhang Yuanheng's early childhood, life was perfectly content. Ordinarily, they had meat to eat every half month, and a festival was no festival unless there were five dishes on the table.

He was the cleverest son in the family. From a young age, he studied at the community school, and the teacher always said he was the Zhang family's qilin child, destined to become a high official one day.

In the forty-fifth year of the Wanli reign, at sixteen, he passed the county exam in Xiong County and became a Xiucai. It seemed that from that very year, the world around him began to change at breakneck speed, and life's joys and sorrows came rushing at him all at once.

His elder brother, who had promised to bring him a Korean bow, went missing on the battlefield of Sarhu. His brother-in-law fled the battlefield but never made it back — only an official notice arrived, stating that the deserter had been executed. Because of that notice, his sister endured endless mockery and scorn from the neighbors. She chose a night when no one would know, and hanged herself from the roof beam.

His mother always said she dreamed his eldest brother had come back, holding his own head, asking her to sew it back on. Every day she stood outside the eastern gate of ancient Xiongzhou, waiting. Over time, she lost her mind, and one day she simply vanished without a trace.

Having lost two children and his wife in quick succession, his father said this was retribution for all the killing he had done. He grew silent and withdrawn, drinking all day long until his mind was gone.

The carefree Zhang Yuanheng became the pillar of the household. His aging father needed care, and his little sister was still very young. He could barely keep the tailor shop running, and he struggled on until the sixth year of the Tianqi reign.

That year, two minor incidents occurred.

The first was on the fifteenth day of the sixth month, when the earth dragon turned over. From Xuan-Da to Tianjin Garrison, from the capital to Kaifeng, it struck over sixty prefectures, subprefectures, and counties across four provinces. Aftershocks followed dozens of times. Collapsed houses crushed countless people to death — his father was merely one of them.

Zhang Yuanheng had saved no money, but his old father's funeral could not go unheld. He borrowed a sum of money and hastily arranged the funeral.

He did not want it to be hasty, but at that time every household was holding funerals. The cheeks of the funeral musicians were swollen from blowing, and no one had the time to attend anyone else's funeral. No family could manage any pomp.

The debt itself was no great matter. The grain in the fields was about to be harvested; once harvested, he could repay the loan.

Then the second minor incident arrived. Half a month later, a torrential rainstorm struck. The Hai River burst its banks, the Xiong River swelled violently, and everything from Tianjin Garrison to Zhending Prefecture was flooded.

Repaying debts is a matter of natural justice. Now it was his turn to make a choice: offer his little sister to the creditor as an unofficial concubine, or hand over the farmland, now worth a pittance in the disaster year, to the creditor.

The former was far more advantageous, but Zhang Yuanheng chose the latter. Without the farmland, and with the tailor shop poorly managed, he sold it off to someone else the following year for five taels of broken silver, which he set aside as his little sister's dowry.

Looking back now, ever since he became a Xiucai, the one and only thing that had gone smoothly was probably marrying his little sister into a good family.

That dusk when his little sister married was full of pomp and splendor. Even now he remembered the sunset glow of that day. The sunset glow was beautiful.

A perfectly fine family, scattered to pieces amid that lovely scene and beautiful moment. He was left with nothing at all.

Later, he shouldered his pack and traveled to many places. In Northern Zhili, he darted about like a headless fly who was adept with both pen and sword. His range of services spanned from writing letters for others to performing feats of strength like smashing stones on his chest — he did any kind of work.

He never once mentioned his Xiucai background. He had seen clearly: being a Xiucai could not change his financial situation, but it could bring him into contact with high officials and nobles that poor peasants could never reach, adding a measure of cold disdain to an already miserable life.

In the seventh year of the Tianqi reign, he went to the capital with the thought of trying his luck. The atmosphere there was even more degenerate, the gap between rich and poor even more polarized. Xiucai were more common than stray dogs, and there was no place for him there either.

He had also thought of seeking some minor official post, but he had not studied for many years. Neither his financial situation nor his store of learning was sufficient for him to take the provincial exam again.

Besides, he had no property. Even if he wanted to build connections, no one cared about a destitute Xiucai.

The disgrace was not in being a Xiucai; the disgrace was in being destitute.

With great difficulty, he got to know a young eunuch, also surnamed Zhang, with whom he could exchange a few words. Eunuchs were powerful! Zhang Yuanheng felt that all the luck of his lifetime was tied to this young Zhang.

He used every trick he had to get young Zhang drunk, forced his head down, and acknowledged him as an uncle. The very night they became kin, the next day the Tianqi Emperor passed away. Immediately after, Prince Xin ascended the throne, and Wei Zhongxian fell from power.

Not only did Uncle Young Zhang fail to lift Zhang Yuanheng's fortunes, the two of them collapsed together. Zhang Yuanheng led him in hiding, scurrying from place to place. Half a sesame cake was split into four pieces — one piece for today's meal, another for tomorrow's.

This continued until it was certain that the court's investigation of eunuchs did not extend to young Zhang.

The fourth day of the second month in the second year of the Chongzhen reign — he would remember that day forever.

Not because on that day, at Yubao Fort in northern Shaanxi, a frontier soldier fainted from hunger and drank the icy water of the Wuding River to fill his stomach; still less because it was the birthday of the Ming Crown Prince Zhu Cilang, celebrated throughout the land.

But because Zhang Yuanheng, who had endured a lifetime of scorn, lay sleepless all night, rose early, and pondered his future prospects.

His reasoning was this: there were many Xiucai in the world, so many that Xiucai could not even find a proper job; there were also many eunuchs in the world, so many that hundreds and thousands sought posts at the palace gates.

But there were not many eunuchs in the world who also held the Xiucai degree. As long as he severed the root of worldly troubles, whether he entered the palace or a prince's mansion, with his learning, he would surely be able to secure a future of wealth and rank.

At the very worst, he would still be better than Wang Zhen, the God of War of Tumu Fortress, wouldn't he?

Gritting his teeth, with a five-inch gelding knife, he castrated himself.

A true man stands in this world. If he has already lost all face, what use is keeping his cock?

But that day was not a good day.

The blood between his legs had not yet dried when, that evening, officials posted the Chongzhen Emperor's sacred edict on the city gate: From the day this edict is issued, anyone who dares to castrate himself without authorization — the person himself and the one who performed the act shall be beheaded, and their entire families exiled to miasma-ridden regions for military service. Proclaim this to all within and without, ensure it is strictly obeyed. Understand Our heart that grieves for the wounded, and together ascend to the realm of benevolence and long life. Thus decreed.

In the days of unending terror that followed, he was finally denounced. The original sentence was exile to Liaodong for military service. Fortunately, with Uncle Young Zhang's help, he was squeezed into the equally barren Songpan Garrison, at Xiaohe Camp, for military exile.

Although Songpan Garrison was also a frontier post, at least the fighting was not as fierce as in Liaodong. In the autumn of the second year of the Chongzhen reign, just as Zhang Yuanheng arrived at Songpan, he heard that Hong Taiji of the Later Jin had invaded, cutting off the routes between Liaodong and Jizhen.

How to put it? Being a soldier at Songpan Garrison was not too bad. But if it was just to be a soldier... Zhang Yuanheng was somewhat baffled. What had he taken that knife for? Just to fatten up faster?

On the fourth day of the twelfth month in the second year of the Chongzhen reign, a great earthquake struck Chengdu and Songpan Garrison. It shook twelve times in a single day. Rivers swelled and turned red, mountains collapsed and cities fell. At the Xiaohe Thousand-Household Defense Post, the mountain collapse caused the city wall to cave in for one hundred and twenty zhang.

For the entire third year of the Chongzhen reign, Zhang Yuanheng repaired city walls at Songpan Garrison.

He kept repairing until the summer of this year, when a letter from Beijing sent him into ecstasy. Uncle Young Zhang had been reinstated in the inner court. He wrote to see whether this nominal nephew of his was dead yet, and had secured for him two major assignments that could change his fate. If he was not dead, he was to hurry to the capital at once.

Time was tight and the mission was heavy. He rushed to the capital and donned the Flying Fish Robe he had yearned for in his dreams. Under his command were two file chiefs and twenty constables at his orders, and he had to choose between the two major assignments.

The first was to serve as an army supervisor under the eunuch defending Liaodong.

The second was to supervise the Tea-Horse Office under the eunuch defending Shaanxi.

Although Zhang Yuanheng had spent a year repairing city walls at Songpan Garrison and knew nothing of what had happened in the world during that time, anyone who was not a fool could see that neither of these assignments was a good job.

Liaodong needed no explanation, and it was hardly news that Shaanxi was in the grip of severe popular uprisings.

Moreover, when it came to the specifics of the work, anything that could rival the danger level of supervising the army in Liaodong could not possibly be a good job.

But if he did not choose, Zhang Yuanheng would have no choice but to return to Songpan and be a soldier.

Between the two, he chose to go to Xining.

All he knew was that on the day of departure from the capital, of the twenty-two file chiefs and constables under him, eight had used their connections to go elsewhere, and one had fallen off a horse and broken his leg, so he could not follow them westward either.

He was completely in the dark, but fortunately he could travel together with the great eunuch chief who had just been appointed Grand Defender of Shaanxi, and from this superior he obtained enormous authority and support.

The Grand Defender of Shaanxi had said: "Yuanheng, so long as you do not rashly provoke border conflicts, take full charge of the Tea and Horse Office at Xining Garrison!"

That eunuch was truly a kindly yet resolute elder. Zhang Yuanheng had never in his life been entrusted with such heavy responsibility, been so trusted and supported. For a time, his heart was filled with six words: A scholar dies for the one who knows him!

Hot blood cannot fill the belly. By the time he reached Xining Garrison, Zhang Yuanheng had already become a devout follower of all three teachings.

Never mind whether it was the Daoist Patriarch or the Buddha — whichever would open their eyes and transfer him to Liaodong as army supervisor, he would offer incense and offerings for life.

His subordinate file-chief prostrated himself behind him, interrupting Zhang Yuanheng's pensive gaze at the myriad lights of the households: "My lord, we have found out everything. Xining Garrison has a paper strength of five thousand six hundred; Southern River's Fuqiang Fort has a paper strength of five hundred; Zhenhai Camp west of the city has a paper strength of one thousand five hundred. In addition, there are fourteen tusi, with a paper native militia strength of one thousand two hundred."

"Paper strength?"

Zhang Yuanheng turned around, pondering inwardly — there should be fifteen tusi. He asked: "And the actual strength?"

"Actual strength…" The file-chief's expression was very grim. "Xining Garrison actual strength: five thousand six hundred. Fuqiang Fort actual strength: one thousand. Zhenhai Camp actual strength: two thousand. The actual strength of the native militia is still unknown."

In remote frontier regions, military households had always fled in great numbers; one only ever saw actual strength lower than paper strength. No one had ever seen a place where actual strength exceeded paper strength.

Today, Zhang Yuanheng had his eyes well and truly opened. He knew exactly what this meant. Frowning, he asked: "How many of those are troops of the Liu Tusi's house?"

The barbarian-hunter squad leader shook his head and said, full of apology: "Your humble subordinate is incompetent and could not find out clearly. I beg my lord's forgiveness."

"What do you think?"

The barbarian-hunter squad leader's face showed distress. He did not know how to explain this matter. In his eyes, the situation in Xining was both chaotic and orderly.

Orderly, because for the past two days, the garrison troops in the city trained when they should train, tilled the fields when they should till, and forged equipment when they should forge equipment — nothing was delayed.

But beneath this state of affairs, the senior officers of Xining Garrison had all stopped doing their jobs.

For example, the Qi Tusi's house had a general who held the post of Commander and was assigned as Defender of Fuqiang Fort. Every day he was busy at home supervising his native troops in doing business. The last time he went to Fuqiang Fort was three months ago — he had reportedly gone to collect sheep, though no one knew what sort of sheep that was supposed to be.

Similar situations occurred among the generals of the various tusi and the imperially appointed officers, especially those few imperially appointed officers. Xining Garrison seemed to have allocated them anywhere from ten to fifty military households according to their rank, and they were kept running errands all day long, covering the entire route from Lanzhou to Hanzhong.

The barbarian-hunter squad leader raised a hand to rub his face and said, with great gravity but uncertainty: "All… all of them?"

Zhang Yuanheng betrayed no emotion, but in his heart he cursed the Grand Defender of Shaanxi with every foul word he had learned in his entire life.

He had thought coming to Xining Garrison was to supervise the border tea-horse trade. When the Grand Defender told him he could act freely short of provoking border conflicts, he had taken that as unparalleled support.

But now the situation was growing clearer and clearer. This was the border? This was damn well deep behind enemy lines!

No wonder that before he left the capital, the great eunuch Cao Huachun, who attended the Emperor, had specifically summoned him for a meeting, yet said nothing at all, and the look in his eyes when he regarded him had been full of sympathy.

At the time, he had thought Eunuch Cao was sympathizing with his miserable experience of repairing city walls at Songpan Garrison!

No wonder that the moment he arrived at Xining Garrison, there had not been a single person to welcome him, and he had been brought directly by the troops into this official residence of the Tea and Horse Office.

Zhang Yuanheng sighed and shook his head. "We have walked straight into a den of tigers and wolves. How did you manage to find out all this information?"

"Ah?"

The barbarian-hunter squad leader was briefly stunned, then said: "The soldiers outside told me. They also said that since my lord has come to Xining, he should just settle down and live a steady life here. If he wishes to earn some money, that is not difficult either, so long as he does not oppose their Grand Commander Liu."

As for the question of whether he could go back, Zhang Yuanheng did not actually care very much. He frowned and said: "Not go back? You say it so lightly. What if the court tries us by law?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he himself was stunned for a moment. This was enemy territory!

Whom could the court send here to kill him?

Zhang Yuanheng raised a hand to stop the barbarian-hunter squad leader, who was about to speak. He rose and paced the room. After a few circuits, he drew a breath and said: "Tell me — the Liu Tusi won't let us leave. Then if the court wants to seize us, wouldn't they… have to get past the Liu Tusi first?"

The barbarian-hunter squad leader had been about to say the same thing. Given the current situation in Xining, no matter how great the court's ability, could they really come to Xining Garrison to arrest people?

Anyone sent to make arrests who entered Xining would receive roughly the same treatment as they had.

"My lord, if the Liu Tusi does not wish us harm, then at this very moment, we may well be safer than the Grand Defender of Shaanxi."

Zhang Yuanheng pondered the geographical and strategic situation he now found himself in, and his mind immediately broadened. He understood why the Grand Defender of Shaanxi had said he must not provoke border conflicts.

Xining was a place with the Yellow River to the south and the Qilian Mountains to the north, with the Hehuang Valley in the middle connecting it to Lanzhou. It was the forward base for attacking Qinghai Lake. If the court could not hold Xining, it would have no initiative whatsoever to wage war in the northwest.

By all logic, Lanzhou blocked the Yellow River, just like Shanhai Pass, and could keep Xining shut outside. But the problem was that the area around Lanzhou could not be turned into a battlefield — it was the great grain-storage camp that supplied Gansu. If war broke out there, the Gansu Garrison border troops would immediately lose their grain supply, and even the treatment of having their pay in arrears would be gone.

"How could the court have given such a vital place to that bandit Liu… No!" Zhang Yuanheng shook his head with emotion, then suddenly covered his mouth and said: "Given it to the Grand Marshal of the Qinghai Marshal's Headquarters?"

Having said this, he shook out his sleeves, clapped his hands, and said: "Alright, go get some sleep. Everyone else is thinking of how to offend neither side, and they all take your master here for a great fool. Ha — after so many years of misfortune, your master is still alive, and he won't die this time either!"