Chapter 290: The Sichuan Border

Zhang Yuanheng did not linger long in Nangqian. He wrote a letter and had it sent to Xining, informing the Tea-Horse Bureau officials that he would return next spring, then set off for Luhuo County to find Liu Chengzong's maternal uncle Cai Zhongpan, who was stationed there.

On the very day he departed, a messenger from Luhuo County arrived in Nangqian, bringing the results of Cai Zhongpan's work.

When he heard the news, Liu Chengzong had just been seeing Zhang Yuanheng off alongside Zhou Riqiang by the Zhaqu River. At the report, he couldn't help but smile, then burst out laughing.

He thought to himself, Uncle is far too eager to earn merit. Reckoning the schedule, he'd been in Luhuo County barely a month, the local government offices had only just been set up — what results could there possibly be?

Though that was what he thought, the man his uncle sent still had to be seen. So he ordered tea and a meal prepared for the messenger, then returned to the manor to chat with Zhou Riqiang for a while about matters concerning Xining Prefecture.

Not long after, the messenger finished his tea and meal and came to report.

The messenger his uncle sent was an old acquaintance of Liu Chengzong's: Han Lin, the veteran soldier from Yan'an Prefecture city whose left hand lacked a thumb.

Han Lin had very early on served as one of Liu Chengzong's household guards alongside Guo Zhashi, but later, like Guo Zhashi, he did not follow Liu Chengzong when he rose in arms and fought across northern Shaanxi; instead, he stayed by Liu Chengzu's side protecting the family dependents.

Because Han Lin could not use a bow, and at the time they only had two firearms — one was Cao Yao's three-eyed blunderbuss, the other his uncle's double-barreled hand cannon — Han Lin missed the early opportunities to earn merit at Liu Chengzong's side.

Nevertheless, his treatment had always been good. In northern Shaanxi he had helped out with the Cheng Transport business, and later he had always worked under Liu Laoye. This time his uncle had brought him along, and he had followed him to Luhuo County.

Seeing Liu Chengzong again, Han Lin no longer looked like the coolie who had snatched a beggar's money in Yan'an Prefecture city. His armor was worn straight and proper, his hair was groomed — he very much looked like a respectable man.

"Marshal."

Seeing an old acquaintance, Liu Chengzong was also in very good spirits. He motioned for him to sit, then smiled and said, "I really didn't expect Uncle to send you. Tell me, what good news from the east — can we enter Sichuan?"

Han Lin shook his head and said, "It is indeed as the Marshal said — there is no way into Sichuan. This time, Old Master Cai sent me to report mainly to submit intelligence on West of the Long River and Songpan Garrison to the Marshal."

The Long River referred to the Dadu River; West of the Long River thus meant the lands including the Dajianlu route.

That Cai Zhongpan could obtain intelligence on West of the Long River was within Liu Chengzong's expectations, but what surprised him was Songpan Garrison. "Luhuo is so far from Songpan, with the Jinchuan Chieftain in between — how did he get intelligence on that area?"

Han Lin sighed, and from his expression, Liu Chengzong gathered that the source of this intelligence was not a pleasant one.

When he spoke, it was indeed so: "As soon as we reached Luhuo County, the Jinchuan Chieftain sent envoys bearing money, grain, gold, silver, Shu brocade, and other goods as gifts."

As he spoke, he looked down below the manor and said, "Old Master Cai had me bring all the gifts to the Marshal. However, one hundred twenty taels of silver among them was used by us — I will explain to the Marshal shortly."

Liu Chengzong nodded, signaling Han Lin to continue.

"After sending the gifts, the Jinchuan Chieftain also invited Old Master Cai to be a guest in his territory."

"The Jinchuan Chieftain is the local shaman chief. His people dwell in the mountains, their houses and tower-forts built against the slopes. The local folk have a custom of constructing watchtowers to guard against beasts and observe flash floods, which over time developed into a rivalry of vying to see whose family's watchtower was tallest."

"On the mountains where the terrain is easy to defend and hard to attack, at close intervals of a hundred-odd paces and far intervals of less than a li, one is sure to see towering stone forts and watchtowers — the low ones three or four stories, the tall ones seven or eight stories. He also has several thousand tribal retainers, and during the feast he staged martial exercises in the mountains, clearly meant to intimidate."

Liu Chengzong frowned. "Is my uncle all right?"

Han Lin hurriedly shook his head and said, "He's fine. The chieftain staged his exercises, Old Master Cai drank his wine — no unpleasantness occurred. The Jinchuan Chieftain wants to set a boundary with us and pay annual tribute to the Marshal. Here is the tribute list."

As he spoke, he produced a slip of paper and handed it over. Liu Chengzong swept his eyes over it — the handwriting was very familiar; it was his uncle's.

Annually: fifty taels of gold, five hundred taels of silver, fifty horses, two hundred dan of tea, two hundred bolts of Shu brocade, ten able-bodied men, and ten beautiful women.

Relative to the Jinchuan Chieftain's territory, this tribute could not be considered much. At present, between the Qinghai Marshal's headquarters and Ming-dynasty Sichuan and Songpan Garrison, only West of the Long River and Jinchuan remained — one to the south, one to the north.

Liu Chengzong finished reading the tribute list and said to Han Lin, "They have conditions, don't they?"

Tribute alone was not enough.

Han Lin nodded. "Yes. The Jinchuan Chieftain hopes that the tribute will continue unbroken, that Han people will not enter Jinchuan, and that Jinchuan will not enter Han lands."

Liu Chengzong understood at once. That made sense.

If they were sincerely submitting, there would have been no need to intimidate with martial exercises. Moreover, they had not mentioned handing over the seal and patent of appointment given them by the Ming court, nor had they requested Liu Chengzong to issue a seal and patent — which meant this was merely sending some tribute, not submission.

To put it bluntly, the meaning was simply... Don't you come over here!

"So, Uncle went as a guest, returned safely with gifts, and the Jinchuan Chieftain wants to set a border with us and not interfere with each other?"

When Liu Chengzong finished, Han Lin smiled and nodded. "Right, that's exactly the meaning."

"The Jinchuan Chieftain wants to avoid war." Liu Chengzong was noncommittal. "Go on, then — what about the intelligence on West of the Long River?"

"Well..." Han Lin looked troubled. "Marshal, let me continue with Songpan Garrison instead. The Songpan Garrison matter is connected to Jinchuan."

Liu Chengzong actually did not care very much about Songpan Garrison. That direction was very secure. If the tea-horse road from Dajianlu to Sichuan was difficult to traverse, with many places impassable to carts, then the Songpan side was even harder — the mountains, waters, and grasslands were all natural barriers.

He lacked the capacity to organize an army to launch a distant campaign in that direction, and the Songpan Garrison's army likewise lacked the capacity to come over. Most importantly, neither side had sufficient motivation to fight a battle in the great grasslands.

Therefore, compared to the Ming army, he was far more concerned with Jinchuan and West of the Long River — these two great chieftains who each controlled countless lesser chieftains.

But Han Lin's words left him somewhat puzzled. "Songpan Garrison — how is that connected to the Jinchuan Chieftain's affairs?"

"That one hundred twenty taels — that was Old Master Cai seeing Han people farming in Jinchuan. Upon asking, they turned out to be banner troops of Songpan Garrison. He ransomed and bought them." Facing Liu Chengzong's confused and astonished expression, Han Lin nodded emphatically. "Yes, banner troops of Songpan Garrison."

Banner troops farming was understandable, but Songpan Garrison banner troops not farming in Songpan, instead running off to Jinchuan to farm — Liu Chengzong's interest was piqued. "Explain in detail. What is this all about?"

He had thought the main task of Songpan Garrison banner troops was repairing city walls. So they also had this side business of farming for other people?

Han Lin lowered his head — he too had once been a Ming soldier — his face filled with humiliation. He took a map from his luggage and said, "Marshal, please look. This is Songpan Garrison. To the southwest it borders the Jinchuan Chieftain's territory."

What unfolded before Liu Chengzong was a rough sketch, with roads drawn in crude lines. From the Ming perspective, Songpan Garrison was a dead end: two mountain roads extended northwest from Sichuan, and their final junction was the Songpan Garrison station.

Further west lay a great marsh stretching six hundred li across; to the southwest it bordered Jinchuan territory. It was the very forefront of Han expansion northwestward from Sichuan.

But Songpan Garrison's situation was not as good as it looked, because on this map Han Lin held, Songpan Garrison was surrounded on all sides by dense clusters labeled "So-and-So Fan" and "So-and-So Fan."

Not only to the north and west — Songpan Garrison had two roads leading to Sichuan, called the Songpan South Road and the Songpan East Road. The south road was marked as leading to Mao County under Chengdu Prefecture; the east road was marked as leading to Pingwu under Long'an Prefecture.

Han Lin explained, "Songpan Garrison has over thirty forts, stockades, walled cities, and passes, the majority of them in places where the five grains do not grow and boats cannot travel. Every year, over forty-five thousand dan of tax grain must be allocated from Chengdu and other places just to meet their food needs. All these provisions and supplies rely on these two roads for transport."

"It is said that the roads winding for a hundred li are all along cliffs and precipices, with some sections connected only by skywalk plank roads amid the clouds."

Listening to Han Lin's description, Liu Chengzong imagined Jinchuan's hundreds and thousands of watchtower clusters and Songpan's endless cloud-traversing plank roads. He could not help murmuring to himself, "I would so love to go see that."

He was lost in thought for only a moment before pointing at the map, to the two characters "Baicao" specially marked between Songpan's two roads, and asking, "Then what does this mean?"

"Oh, that is Songpan's Baicao Twenty-Eight Stockades. In the past they were the fiercest — all around, the various chieftains governed the Qiang people, but the Baicao Fan lands alone had no one governing them. Thus, not a day passed without them plundering and killing merchants and civilians. However, during the Jiajing reign, this problem was resolved."

Liu Chengzong asked, "How was it resolved?"

"He Qing, Left Route Assistant Regional Commander of Songpan, a native of Chengdu. He originally intended to use thirty thousand troops, but after investigating, he found that the Baicao Fan lands were unfavorable for deploying a large army. So he drove nine thousand soldiers deep into Qiang territory. At the Battle of Zoumaling, he captured forty-seven stockades, destroyed four thousand eight hundred watchtowers and dwellings, and eradicated the scourge of Baicao."

Han Lin shook his head as he spoke. "Nowadays there are no more Baicao Qiang. Thirty years after that war, when outside Fan stockades invaded Songpan, the local Qiang and Fan feared being implicated. All eight thousand nine hundred-odd people of the twenty-eight stockades voluntarily petitioned to be registered as commoners, changed their customs, sold their swords and bought calves. Now they have taken Han surnames, and every family raises cattle and is so wealthy they drip with oil."

Liu Chengzong sighed inwardly with emotion. He Qing — such military achievements, yet he had never even heard of this man.

The flourishing military glories of the Jiajing, Longqing, and Wanli reigns made him deeply envy those who had lived in that era. Had he been born then, what he would have set his heart on would surely have been to seek the fame and rank of a great general.

He asked, "And then? Why have I never heard of this General He?"

"Ah, he held Songpan for over twenty years. In the thirty-third year of the Jiajing reign, when the dwarves came from the sea, the court reassigned the old general and his troops to Suzhou and Songjiang as Deputy Regional Commander, overseeing the sea defenses of Zhejiang, Suzhou, and Songjiang."

Han Lin said it lightly, as if it were nothing, but it made Liu Chengzong spit a curse through clenched teeth: "Damn it all. I was just praising the court in my heart a moment ago."

Transferring a famous general from Shu, who had never seen the sea in his life, to the southeast to serve as Sea Defense Superintendent — was that an order a primate could give?

"Calm yourself, Grand Marshal." Han Lin, as if he hadn't seen Liu Chengzong's anger at all, continued in a flat tone: "This story hasn't even reached the infuriating part yet. The old general went there, could achieve no merit, had no accomplishments, was impeached and dismissed, and died."

Liu Chengzong, on the contrary, was no longer angry now. He understood: even if he had been born in the Jiajing, Longqing, or Wanli years and become a great general, even without the grand tide of rebellion, he would still have to find a place to set himself up as an independent warlord.

To be unable to achieve merit and accomplish anything — was that not entirely expected? They should never have sent the man there in the first place. Send him to Guangdong or Guangxi to fight the Man and Liao tribes — mountain warfare was his specialty, a perfect match.

He waved his hand, unwilling to dwell on the matter, and said, "From what you say, the situation at Songpan Guard should be fairly good. How then did its banner troops fall so low as to till the fields for the barbarian chieftains?"

"Grand Marshal, that battle was a hundred years ago. What battle can win a hundred years of peace?" Han Lin shook his head. "Since the campaign in Bozhou, the many chieftains have all seen the court's national power wane, and all harbor rebellious intent."

"Especially around the time of the earthquake, the forts, stockades, and passes the old general He built were shaken to ruin. The troops were utterly exhausted from repairing the fortifications. The barbarians and Qiang seized the strategic passes, and the local officials, worried about stirring up trouble, gradually turned a blind eye to the occasional raids and plundering. They only ordered the troops, after drawing their rations, to buy some wine and cloth — calling it 'rewarding the barbarians.'"

"When the barbarians and Qiang of the chieftains passed by the military forts, they would demand reward money from the garrison: dismounting money, mounting money, thirst-quenching money, fort-passing wine, warming-clothes money, strength money, private-hand money… too many to count. When they needed to plow their fields, they would demand some guard troops to do the plowing, and send them back to the guard once the work was done."

After saying all this, Han Lin fixed his gaze steadily on Liu Chengzong, cupped his fists, and said, "Grand Marshal, the Songpan Guard troops struggle bitterly for their livelihood. They have become an isolated army encircled by barbarians and Qiang. If the strategy is sound, we can take them all."

Liu Chengzong slammed his hand on the table: "They're in this miserable state and they still dared to form ranks and block Zhang Tianlin! Spineless wretches, disgracing their ancestors!"

He was not cursing the banner troops, but those civil and military officers who sought only to avoid trouble at all costs.

Liu Chengzong leaned back against his chair, raised a hand, and gently tapped his forehead with his knuckles. With his other hand, he beckoned to Han Lin and said, "I need to think this over carefully. Go on — Changhexi."

He could recruit the banner troops of Songpan, but he could not hold Songpan Guard itself.

It was very difficult for the Ming court to ship grain to Songpan Guard, requiring a journey of three to four hundred li through mountain paths. But beyond those mountains lay Sichuan — they could afford the cost.

For him to ship grain to Songpan, he would have to detour around the Great Grasslands, a journey of at least eight hundred li. And on this side of the Great Grasslands was Kangning Prefecture, which could not even feed itself.

At the mention of Changhexi, the gloom on Han Lin's face finally vanished. He raised an eyebrow and smiled: "Grand Marshal, Changhexi is far better than those two places. Ever since the Tartars occupied Qinghai, the court has ordered all traffic to and from Tibet to take the southern route, so it has become extraordinarily prosperous."

"Along the route there are forty or fifty manors, called guozhuang. Thirteen of the larger ones are known as Dorje'i Gusa — meaning 'great manors paved with stone slabs.' The masters of these guozhuang are all native battalion commanders, stewards, and the like under the Mingzheng Chieftain."

Han Lin smiled as he explained the term word by word to Liu Chengzong, then continued: "They are the ones who least want to fight you, Grand Marshal. In seven days…"

Han Lin gestured exaggeratedly with his hand: "They sent people running to Luhuo eight times, just wanting to ask what your intentions are toward them, Grand Marshal."

Liu the Lion asked, puzzled: "What intentions?"

"Exactly. If you don't issue an order to Changhexi, Grand Marshal, they won't sleep soundly."

Han Lin held up three fingers. "Last year, from the Yazhou Diaomen Tea-Horse Office on the Sichuan border, passing through the territory of the Shen Village Chieftain at Luding and crossing Hexi into Tibet, the official tea amounted to three million jin. Private trade was even greater."

"All thirteen guozhuang of Lucheng depend on the food, lodging, and trade of passing merchants for their profit. You have five hundred troops garrisoned at Luhuo, Grand Marshal, and the township officers have also recruited several hundred militia, mounted constables, and archers, yet you've given them no orders. It's like a blade hanging over their necks — the merchants traveling to and from Tibet no longer dare to lodge with them."

Upon hearing this, Liu Chengzong raised a hand and lightly smacked his forehead, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

What a formidable chieftain — running a bed-and-breakfast at the end of the Ming dynasty?