Chapter 379: Three Demands

Minister of Rites Yang He walked alone across Wo Bridge.

Behind him, Lanzhou City still stood grand and towering; not far ahead lay the siege trenches of the Western Army, and beyond trench after trench were countless banners and chevaux-de-frise.

He glanced back at the city wall — someone was gripping the battlements, full of tension; it seemed to be Grand Coordinator Lian Guoshi.

Although he had told Lian Guoshi there was no need to prepare troops, Zhang Yingchang was still absent from the wall; he was likely deploying soldiers inside the barbican, ready to charge out at any moment.

But for Yang He, this was of no help — if Liu Chengzong truly meant to kill him, it would be over in the blink of an eye, and no amount of troops could save his life.

Looking ahead, he had no idea how many Great Chasing-Wind guns and how many divine weapons were aimed at him; he merely coughed twice, swallowed, and walked forward.

The Emperor had sent him to rebuke Liu Chengzong and order him to withdraw his troops… but having lost on the battlefield, what could his lone mouth possibly say? It all came down to whether Liu Chengzong wanted to withdraw.

Perhaps the very next step would be the last step of his life.

But soon enough, planks were laid across the distant trench, and a standard-bearing officer rode out from camp alone, galloping toward him. Drawing near, he cupped his fists from horseback and said, "Old Minister, the Grand Commander invites you into camp."

Yang He nodded, and his forward steps quickened.

As far back as when he was recruiting Liu Chengzong to pacify him, and Liu wanted to go far away to the Western Sea, Yang He had known this day would come — he just hadn't expected it to come so soon.

At the time, his inner estimate for the timing had been ten or twenty years.

Yet in barely three short years, Liu Chengzong had emerged from Qinghai, stronger than before.

As for this particular occasion, Yang He had actually reached Jinglu Garrison in Shaanxi long ago, but the frontline army had advanced too fast and been defeated too fast, leaving him unable to move forward. If Liu the Lion had intended to strike Lanzhou, slipping into the city would have been walking right into a trap.

Only once the battle lines stabilized at Lanzhou and it was certain Liu the Lion had no intention of taking the city did he seize the moment to cross the battlefield and enter Lanzhou.

Not long after, Yang He passed through the training infantry camp and arrived before the command tent.

To Yang He, who had once served as Supreme Commander of the Three Borders, this command tent… looked very familiar.

Yang He could not help imagining Liu Chengzong's appearance in his mind, picturing what sort of show of force Liu the Lion would use to cow him, pondering how to conduct the talks — when the guiding officer saluted outside the tent.

"Grand Commander, Yang He is here."

The officer's words had barely faded when, moments later, the tent flap was lifted, revealing the smiling face of a young general: "Supreme Commander Yang, you have come from afar. Plain water has been prepared within the tent; please come in and relieve your fatigue."

There was no show of force — Liu Chengzong's command tent did not even have a single guard, only him alone.

This could not help but stir a trace of bewildered loss in Yang He's heart. This Liu the Lion was simply too… what was this called, treating the worthy with courtesy? So in his eyes, this sixty-year-old Minister was a mere "worthy"?

Liu Chengzong held a porcelain pot and poured water for Yang He, then asked, "Old Supreme Commander, you have come a thousand li to see me — what is your esteemed business?"

"General Liu, why do you go back on your word?" Yang He set the water bowl aside and asked, "Since you have already entered the Western Sea, why bring calamity upon Hehuang?"

"Old sir, aren't you telling jokes?"

Liu Chengzong did not show the angry embarrassment Yang He had imagined; he merely chuckled lightly and said, "These past two or three years, I have campaigned east and west — subduing the sea bandits of Huoluochi and the various tribes, marching south to Nangqian to suppress the tribal chief Dunyue Duoji, and repelling the northern incursion of Chuoketu. In such circumstances, if there were any way to avoid war, I would not have sent troops east."

He drew a line between them with his hand and said, "But what did Shaanxi do? They cut off Hehuang's grain, forbade grain from Hedong from being sold into Hehuang. Hehuang's grain was bought empty by me, the common people rose up against the court, and the court's government troops seized the chance to incite the native chieftains to raise arms."

"The war is one you wanted to fight, and now that you've lost, you blame me for sending troops?"

Yang He was left speechless. From what he understood, the matter did indeed seem to be as Liu Chengzong described. He frowned and asked, "Then why did you not petition the court for grain?"

"Ha!"

Liu Chengzong had never imagined Yang He would say such a thing. He suddenly could not hold back a laugh, then said, "I routed the three garrison regional commanders and stormed their main camp — inside the camp there were only ten days' worth of provisions. Even the three garrisons' border troops had no grain, and I should ask the court for grain? Old Supreme Commander, think about it — would the court give me grain?"

Yang He was once again speechless. He somewhat regretted asking such a foolish question.

The court's own government troops could not get enough grain — how could they possibly give any to Liu Chengzong, who stood in a standoff against them?

"Ah." Yang He, as if defeated, let out a heavy sigh and shook his head with feeling. "General Liu, with soldiers such as these — if only you could serve the nation on the battlefield instead of fighting your own countrymen, how fine would that be?"

On his way into camp, he had seen Liu Chengzong's army, and they possessed an entirely different bearing from any border troops he had ever seen — superior even to the finest army he had witnessed in the capital region.

The best army he had seen before this was the Left Division of the Changping Army — not "left" as in direction, but "Zuo" as in Zuo Liangyu.

At that time, Zuo Liangyu was also a figure in the mold of Cao Wenzhao — a Shandong man who had enlisted in the Liao garrison at eighteen, earned his footing in the army through solid battlefield merit against the eastern slaves, and by his twenties had reached the very rank He Renlong now held: Commander.

However, during the Ningyuan pay mutiny in the first year of Chongzhen, this man had been extremely conspicuous — while others merely rioted for pay and pressed the grand coordinator for wages, he led men to plunder military supplies.

Afterward, someone like him, an organizer of looting, should have been executed, but he had a good brother named Qiu Lei, a military officer from a licentiate background, who took all the blame upon himself and went to prison, allowing Zuo Liangyu to escape the law.

Later, he sought refuge with Hou Xun, serving before his tent for some time, gained favor, and was restored to his original rank. He distinguished himself greatly during the Jisi Incursion, and after the campaign his achievements were rated equal to Cao Wenzhao's. In the fourth year of Chongzhen, he launched successive attacks at Songshan and Xingshan, earning himself the merit of Vice Regional Commander bearing the commander's seal.

That year, Zuo Liangyu was thirty-two, and he used all his reward money to save the life of Qiu Lei, who had been imprisoned in the Ministry of Justice's dungeon for his sake.

Yang He had seen the troops of the Changping Left Division — their military bearing was disciplined and solemn, worthy of being called the era's finest. Yet even that army was not the equal of the Western Army arrayed before his eyes now.

"Old Supreme Commander, those words are quite interesting."

Liu Chengzong looked at Yang He, discerning something else in his words. He suddenly laughed and said, "The court has trouble in the east?"

Though phrased as a question, Liu the Lion's tone was utterly certain. He did not think Yang He's remark was meant to reform him — it was simply that the court had encountered a great crisis in the east, and the sense of danger had prompted an involuntary lament.

"Hm?"

Yang He realized he had misspoken, but then shook his head with a bitter smile and said, "There is no harm in the General knowing — the lands of the Three Qin and Three Jin are overrun with roving bandits everywhere; Liaodong and the capital region are constantly harassed by the eastern slaves; in Shandong, Kong Youde has proclaimed himself Grand Commander-in-Chief. The situation is deteriorating badly."

Liu Chengzong slowly shook his head, noncommittal, and smiled. "You are still afraid of me knowing."

Because everything Yang He had said were things he already knew. He also knew that the Great Ming court could still hold on for eleven more years after this — these matters would not surprise him, and hardly counted as a badly deteriorating situation.

So he firmly believed there must be something else he did not know, something that had wrung that helpless lament from this Minister of Rites.

But for Yang He, the matter was not so. When he served as Supreme Commander of the Three Borders, the rebellion in Shaanxi had only just begun; by the time he took office in the capital, the rebellion in Shaanxi was already affecting Northern Zhili.

Now that he had returned to Shaanxi, the Dashing General Li Zicheng — a nobody whose name had once been unknown — led a peasant army that could now stand toe-to-toe with government troops. After being defeated, he had reorganized his forces and taken the initiative to attack Zuo Liangyu at Wu'an, routing him.

Although Zuo's division had not suffered great losses, when this news reached Yang He's ears, it still made his head spin.

The battle itself did not signify much.

But that Li Zicheng dared to fight this battle signified that, after four long years of brutal rebellion warfare, the gap between the rebels and government troops was shrinking by the day. The leaders who had risen above the rest had already distilled effective tactics and methods for securing military provisions.

And correspondingly, the court was stretched to its limits — the northwestern government troops were exhausted from constant campaigning in the encirclement war, while the northeastern government troops had grown disaffected and disloyal after the court's repeated mishandling.

This was a war so long that no hope of victory could be seen. For Yang He, that the war had reached this stage was itself a mark of failure.

Consider this: at the very beginning of the rebel uprising, the court's national strength was at its greatest and the rebels' power at its weakest. Everything the rebels did was wrong, and everything the government troops did was right. Even so, the rebels survived. Given the present situation, could the court still win?

Liu Chengzong could not understand this feeling. He leaned back slightly and said, "The blame for this war does not lie with me. If I truly bear any fault, it is only that I yielded?"

Yang He frowned and said, "How is that telling jokes?"

"Serving on the battlefield, huh." Liu Chengzong let out a short laugh and asked, "Does the old Viceroy still not understand even now — it's not that we have a problem, it's that the imperial court has a problem?"

As he spoke, Liu Chengzong rose, took the report Chengyun had handed him from the command tent desk, and flung it onto the tea table in front of Yang He. "The three garrison commands' main camps — over twenty thousand troops on campaign, with only two thousand-odd shi of grain stored, barely enough for ten days' rations. My troops broke one hundred and seventy-eight households and hauled back four hundred thousand shi of grain!"

Yang He's head snapped up. In an instant, too many thoughts surged through him, so much so that he opened his mouth but stopped short.

He had served as Viceroy of the Three Frontiers and knew Shaanxi's population like the back of his hand. Lintao Prefecture had a modest population — one hundred forty thousand people, over seven thousand seven hundred households.

For Liu Chengzong to have broken one hundred and seventy-eight households and plundered four hundred thousand shi of grain, he had clearly looted the richest hundred-plus families in Lintao Prefecture.

Yang He drew a sharp, cold breath and slowly exhaled. "Did you specifically seek out these people to plunder?"

Liu Chengzong sat back down and gave a cold snort. "Who else would I seek out? The common folk already suffer enough from the Emperor's taxes."

Yang He furrowed his brow. "General Liu, saying that is far too heartless. The Emperor has treated you with the utmost benevolence and righteousness."

"The Emperor works hard enough. I sympathize with him. But as for utmost benevolence and righteousness — those words should come from me. When I entered the Western Sea, that was me showing him the utmost benevolence and righteousness."

Liu Chengzong looked at Yang He with utter seriousness. "The Great Ming is beyond saving. Three years ago, there were things I couldn't say. Now I can tell you — when heaven falls and earth splits, whoever can keep the countless millions alive is the one truly showing the Emperor utmost benevolence and righteousness."

"You…" Yang He shuddered violently at these words, nearly toppling backward. "What do you mean by that?"

Liu Chengzong spread his hands. "How many mu of farmland are there in all of Lanzhou and Lintao Prefecture? You know better than I do. A whole year's harvest here is no more than two million shi. Yet one hundred and seventy-eight households held five hundred thousand shi of grain. I distributed one hundred thousand shi to the common people and still kept four hundred thousand shi. Isn't that clear enough? The court is in a dead end."

As the defender of the old order, the court could never touch the coin and grain stored in these people's granaries.

Not because they were official families, nor because they were merchants colluding with the yamen, and still less because they were landlords shaping local opinion — but for the very simple reason that it was legal.

Even if the origins of some of that coin, grain, and land might not have been legal, the outcome of possessing that coin, grain, and land was legal.

The court had its tax laws. As long as a household paid its taxes, the remaining coin and grain — even if it rotted — was legal property.

A great household with ten thousand mu of land paid the court three hundred forty-four shi of grain and ninety taels of the nine-li silver surtax. Once that tax obligation in grain and silver was fulfilled, everything left was their own property.

The Later Jin could plunder it. Liu Chengzong could plunder it. The peasant armies could plunder it. Anyone could plunder it… only the Chongzhen Emperor could not.

Because a landlord could set rents for his tenant farmers, could bully his tenants and drive them to extinction — but there had never been a landlord who plundered his tenants.

Liu Chengzong said to Yang He, "Think about it. With conditions around Lanzhou like this, when drought strikes, what will happen?"

Yang He no longer cared what else might happen. He only wanted to shut his ears.

The Emperor had sent him to hold Liu Chengzong to account. He felt holding him to account was useless and had only intended to get Liu Chengzong to withdraw his troops. Now, wonderful — Liu Chengzong had just delivered a grand prophecy right to his face, and even he was starting to think Liu Chengzong's words held some truth.

If he listened any further, wouldn't he end up becoming Liu Chengzong's Minister of Rites?

He regained his clarity, no longer letting Liu Chengzong lead him by the nose, and said flatly, "There is no drought in Lanzhou, and General Liu cannot continue advancing. Withdraw your troops."

Liu Chengzong relaxed and asked Yang He, "So that's why you came at this moment, isn't it? The fighting's over, and you're here to urge me to withdraw?"

Yang He nodded and asked Liu Chengzong, "What do you actually want? You were given Qinghai — you have Qinghai. Shaanxi is plagued by drought everywhere. Even if you fight your way in, you can't feed anyone."

Hearing Yang He speak with such helplessness, Liu Chengzong very much wanted to laugh. It was obvious — Yang He, or rather the court, had absolutely no way to deal with him.

Liu Chengzong had not yet withdrawn his troops only because he was waiting for the coin and grain to be transported back to Hehuang. Still, he didn't mind squeezing a few more advantages out of the court — after all, they couldn't afford reparations, and he'd already gotten the coin and grain himself. He raised a hand. "For me to withdraw my troops is simple. Three demands."

Yang He nodded. "Speak. I will relay them to the court."

"No need for you to relay anything or not. None of these three matters are tall orders. If they can't be done, we keep fighting. I'm confident Gongchang Prefecture can provide me with even more coin and grain."

Having said this, Liu Chengzong ignored Yang He's expression and laid it out directly. "First, this entire war began because Shaanxi blockaded the Yellow River. Henceforth, trade between Lanzhou and Hehuang — Shaanxi shall not obstruct it. Otherwise, you force my hand to march east."

"Second, since the forts and walls of Lanzhou have already been razed, do not rebuild them. Rebuilding is pointless. Since there are troubles in the east, let the court focus its attention on eastern affairs."

"As for the third — send me sweet potatoes and potatoes. If my people can't eat their fill, they can only fight. Once they're full, there'll be no trouble. Anything that can be planted, send it all to me… Don't think of starving me out. Whoever tries to starve me out will be the first to die."

Liu Chengzong finished speaking and tapped the table lightly twice with his hand. "The day you deliver the potatoes and sweet potatoes to me is the day I withdraw into Hehuang."