Chapter 415: Borders

Liu Chengzong realized that the Rakshasa expedition teams were using rivers to travel to and from Siberia, and a surge of joy welled up in his heart.

The Marshal's headquarters had survived in Qinghai in a nearly semi-nomadic fashion, and he understood what nomadism was — nomadism was an explosion.

Nomadism was choosing an unconventional survival path on the helpless brink of extinction, trading harsh survival for a mode of production with lower demands on land and environment, in exchange for widespread cavalry to offset population disadvantages in local wars.

Harsh survival touches on many aspects — medical care, childbirth, education, commerce, inheritance, production, disaster resistance — all of which nomadic powers also pursued, but their limited natural environment and unique mode of production restricted their achievements.

This made nomadic powers unstable, with short intervals and wide swings between expansion and contraction, negative population growth year after year; they might suddenly grow powerful, or within a single generation, for no apparent reason, simply sit there and perish on their own.

So nomadism was an explosion — this way of life was always tied to war. Either explode outward successfully, seizing land and replenishing population through war; or implode inward successfully, seizing land and reducing population through infighting.

Whichever kind of explosion, if it failed, the ethnic group was gone.

The greatness of Genghis Khan lay in forging a shared consciousness — Mongol — for the countless powder kegs squatting on the Gobi, the steppes, and the deserts, waiting to explode.

The history of nomadism turned a new page from then on; they no longer had to fear vanishing with a single explosion. A large enough base allowed them to endure countless explosions; as long as there were a few rare successes, it meant everything could continue.

And at this very moment, the comprehensive decline of nomadic powers, their slide downhill — one of the reasons was that compared to bows and arrows, firearms packed greater power and lethality, raising the cost for nomadic powers to explode outward.

Liu Chengzong could see that the Oirat were a Mongol confederation adept at thinking and learning; within their limited means, they were doing everything they could to increase their capacity to explode outward.

This was reflected in the large numbers of charging cavalry among the various Oirat tribes equipped with no armor or bows, wearing only leather caps, leather coats, cloth boots, carrying long spears, riding warhorses, and armed with courage — the Khoshut tribe especially so.

Beyond that, there were also quite a few soldiers without armor using firearms. Such cavalry armed only with long spears and infantry armed only with firearms could account for as much as sixty percent of the Oirat coalition forces.

This kind of equipment leaned toward fighting to the death, using the impact power of the long-spear cavalry, the armor-piercing capability of the firearms, and their very lives to offset the defensive power of medium-armored or even heavy-armored soldiers.

It was, in the most literal sense, staking blood capital.

Liu Chengzong admired this courage to stake blood capital on reform, and the intelligence on the Dzungars made him realize that to the Oirat, the Rakshasa expedition teams at this time were like a fly fallen into the soup pot — won't kill you, but disgusts you.

This was good news for the Marshal's headquarters.

On the fourteenth day of the seventh month of the sixth year of Chongzhen, Liu Chengzong brought Batur Khong Tayiji from Nanshan Fort into the southern shore of Qinghai Lake, boarding a wheeled boat to arrive at the Qinghai Naval Headquarters.

Long before they made shore, the Naval Headquarters' Huaiyuan Colonel, Zhou Riqiang, had gotten word and hurriedly changed into military attire to greet them at the shore.

In truth, Batur Khong Tayiji's head was still buzzing even as they reached shore; seeing the Naval Headquarters' massive-scale warehouses and shipyards, he was so shocked he looked a bit dumbstruck.

Qinghai Lake had an unprecedentedly thriving fishing industry and an even more unprecedented shipbuilding industry. Everywhere, large ships similar in size to the Tsarist Russian chaika boats came and went without pause, and along both the north and south shores, hundreds of small fishing boats cast nets to catch fish.

The peculiar shape of the sail-wheel boats was, on the contrary, the one thing here that Batur Khong Tayiji could barely manage to understand.

As soon as one saw the exceptionally robust Mongol sailors on the lower deck, the principle of how this big thing moved on the water was easy to grasp.

But he could not figure out why.

Why would the Grand Marshal build so many ships on Qinghai Lake?

The Grand Marshal had actually built dozens of large warships on an inner lake completely controlled by the Marshal's headquarters.

They were absolutely warships — there were still jingal muskets mounted on the decks.

This lake was indeed very large, about the size of Zaisan Lake near Lake Balkhash, where one could not see the other shore — but it had no enemies, and there was no way out either.

In Batur Khong Tayiji's eyes, this kind of behavior was practically equivalent to… having too much time and food on one's hands.

Dai Daozi said, "These ships are used to transport salt. For the same distance, using ships costs less than using horses and mules."

Batur Khong Tayiji's face was written all over with: You, my anda, are not being honest — you're actually lying to me.

He believed that shipping costs were low, but he did not believe they were used to transport salt.

Salt was not rare, but it was very important to the Mongols. Within the Oirat's sphere of control, there were many salt ponds and salt lakes — but this stuff… it didn't warrant building so many large ships to transport it.

Dai Daozi noticed the Khong Tayiji's look, paused, then realized the cultural difference and asked, "Where you come from, how is salt sold?"

Sold?

Batur Khong Tayiji was very puzzled by this word. He said, "Every tribe has salt-requesters. They drive oxcarts and ride camels to the salt ponds, offer milk and tea to the salt pond, present ox-tail hair and camel mane hair to the salt pond ovoo, and then scoop the salt back to eat."

Dai Daozi indicated understanding, nodded, and said, "Never mind then."

He turned and went to find Liu Chengzong, who was talking with Zhou Riqiang, and during a pause in their conversation, reported: "Marshal, the Oirat have no official salt monopoly."

Liu Chengzong was just discussing shipbuilding with Zhou Riqiang when he suddenly heard this. He thought, that can't be right.

Even if they didn't have one before, after experiencing the Great Yuan, how could the Mongols still not know about controlling salt? Then he reconsidered and figured out the implication — salt and iron monopolies required a settled environment.

Without settlement, even if a monopoly existed, it could only be a monopoly within one small tribe after another.

It could not achieve the effect of a government monopoly.

Liu Chengzong felt it was necessary for him to help the Oirat achieve settlement, or at least semi-settlement; otherwise, it would probably be very difficult for the Oirat nobility to quickly amass wealth to purchase arms from the Marshal's headquarters.

This was good — goad the Oirat into fighting the Rakshasa on the Ob River, creating demand; then teach them to settle, expanding their income; then help them spend money, providing arms.

Ultimately achieving a fine result of taking from the people and using it for the people.

Liu Chengzong very much wanted to see what kind of monster would be cobbled together in Siberia when utterly disparate elements — Khoshut lance cavalry, Dzungar musketeers, Tumed sailors, Qinghai warships, Gansu border troops — were combined.

But at that moment, Zhou Riqiang had something that drew Liu Chengzong's attention even more. He asked, "You've seen a chaika boat — how could you have seen a chaika boat?"

"Marshal, your subordinate has never seen a chaika boat."

Zhou Riqiang cupped his hands, then said, "However, in Zhejiang, Fujian, and Guangdong, there is a type of warship called the centipede that closely matches what the Marshal described. The ship is sixty to seventy chi long and fifteen chi wide, with a long and narrow hull. Dozens of oars are fitted on each side; when rowed, they stretch and retract like a centipede's legs, and its speed is extremely fast. It carries over a hundred crew, with a large cannon hidden in the bow and breech-loading swivel guns arrayed along both sides. Is that not very similar to the ship type the Marshal mentioned?"

Liu the Lion had no idea about any of that. The more he listened to the description, the more it sounded like an armed dragon boat.

He knew he was no expert and that relaying messages in the middle would likely only muddle things, so he turned and had Dai Daozi and the Khong Tayiji talk with Zhou Riqiang.

He himself stepped aside and sent word to Ju'er Bay, telling Shi Chengwo to bring He Xin and a few veteran craftsmen who designed for the arsenal over.

Naval warfare was different from land warfare. On land, if you lost a fight, you could still run; in naval warfare, if a ship was sunk, the sailors aboard would basically be completely wiped out.

The arms and equipment on the ship were also of paramount importance. Although the cost of arms did not necessarily have to be factored into the ship's cost, Liu Chengzong at least needed to have a clear idea in his mind.

After he finished giving his orders, he turned around — Zhou Riqiang and Batur Khong Tayiji were chatting very amiably.

Zhou Riqiang was describing the appearance of the centipede ship on this side, Dai Daozi was translating in the middle, and the Khong Tayiji was responsible for going "Ah, yes, yes, yes" on the other side.

When they finished their exchange, he saw Zhou Riqiang, his expression grave, cup his fists and say, "Marshal, if it is a centipede ship, I fear it will not be easy to deal with. This ship originated from captures during battles with the Portuguese in the Jiajing era; later, the Fujian and Guangdong regions copied it and used it to pursue Japanese pirates."

As he spoke, he made a gesture to invite Liu Chengzong into the Naval Headquarters. On the way in, once they were a little farther from the Khong Tayiji, he then said, "Marshal, in the past, this Zhou built fishing boats in Shandong, and at the Naval Headquarters, I've built some ships… but they are merely armed civilian vessels. What's more, even if we could build warships, we can't very well have the Mongol Tayiji carry the ships on his back from Qinghai back to the Tianshan Mountains, can we?"

Carry them back?

Vice-Magistrate Zhou was quite imaginative.

Liu Chengzong stepped into the Naval Headquarters, speaking as he walked: "I plan to build ships at the Celestial Mountains."

Zhou Riqiang stopped in his tracks, as if a thunderbolt had struck the crown of his head — his whole body froze on the spot. Only after a pause did he hurry forward to catch up with Liu Chengzong: "Commander, you know I'm from Baoding, right?"

Liu the Lion nodded and looked at Zhou Riqiang with puzzlement: "I know."

"A Baoding man sent to the Celestial Mountains — that's a ten-thousand-li exile for me!" Zhou Riqiang even recited a line of poetry: "Gone once, gone ten thousand li; of a thousand who go, not one returns. Where lies Yazhou? Alive, you cross the Gate of Ghosts."

Liu Chengzong smiled but said nothing, merely having Dai Daozi show Hun Taiji around the Naval Headquarters. Then he led Zhou Riqiang inside. Once seated, he asked: "Colonel Zhou, do you know my original intent in establishing the Naval Headquarters in Qinghai?"

Zhou Riqiang answered with absolute certainty: "To transport salt!"

Liu the Lion let out a laugh: "If it's for transporting salt, why build warships?"

Zhou Riqiang replied without hesitation: "To suppress the various tribes on the sea and guard against sneak attacks by Lhazang."

Liu Chengzong slowly shook his head. Fighting a naval battle against Mongols — it was a wonder Zhou Riqiang didn't find the idea absurd.

Seated in the host's chair, he lifted his chin slightly, his face carrying a trace of ineffable pride, and spoke with eloquence: "Whenever a northern regime marched south in history, it was always constrained by the rivers and canals of the Yangtze–Huai region. I established the Naval Headquarters in Qinghai not for Qinghai itself."

His hand tapped lightly on the tea table: "But to do everything possible to cultivate outstanding shipwrights and seasoned sailors, so that when we one day intervene in the Central Plains, we can control the rivers. Transporting salt is merely a way to give the navy something to do."

"My navy has never been some salted-fish workshop. They are a true navy."

Sitting in the guest seat, Zhou Riqiang tried again and again to speak. His body leaned back against the chair, then rose, then leaned back again. In the end, he opened his mouth but no words came out.

He remembered very clearly.

In the autumn of the third year of Chongzhen, Liu Chengzong had led his army into Qinghai. That first winter after arriving, men burrowed into earthen pits amid the ice and snow, like a pack of homeless dogs.

The following spring, they established the Naval Headquarters.

At the time, Liu Chengzong had stated it plainly: build ships, and build ships to transport salt.

Zhou Riqiang had never regarded the Qinghai Naval Headquarters as a true naval headquarters. He devoted himself wholeheartedly to shipbuilding only because every month, seventeen hundred dan of green salt were shipped from Chaka Salt Lake to New City.

Green salt was a pillar industry of the Marshal's Manor. Every dan of top-grade green salt entering Hehuang was worth twenty-six taels of silver.

After all, anyone knew that a navy inside Qinghai Lake could never get out. No matter how fine a warship Zhou Riqiang built, it could never sail beyond Qinghai Lake.

But now, at this very moment, Liu Chengzong was saying that his purpose in establishing the Naval Headquarters was never to fish or transport salt, but to cultivate shipwrights and sailors for the struggle to seize the Central Plains.

In truth, Zhou Riqiang had his own estimates about the Marshal Manor's future development.

Even if they held Kangning Prefecture, the Marshal's army would struggle to enter Sichuan from Yazhou. Advancing from Kangning toward the Lhasa River Valley would actually be easier. To campaign eastward, they would still have to rely on Xining Prefecture.

They had a strong chance of seizing Lanzhou, occupying Gansu, and further taking Ningxia, Guyuan, Lintao, and Gongchang west of the Liupan Mountains.

The battlefront would ultimately stabilize around the Pingliang, Qinzhou, and Fengxiang region, seesawing back and forth.

Because Hanzhong and Guanzhong were critical territories the court could not afford to lose and were easy to defend but hard to attack. In Zhou Riqiang's eyes, this was probably the Marshal Manor's ultimate shape... and in truth, even what he was imagining was already very far off.

Yet now Liu Chengzong was saying that in his very first year in Qinghai, he was already contemplating the capture of Hanzhong, a naval assault on Huguang, and warships spanning the Yangtze and Huai rivers.

It was a profoundly surreal sense of contradiction, as if Liu Chengzong had drawn an enormous pie and slapped it — wham — right onto Zhou Riqiang's forehead, stunning him into speechlessness.

Liu Chengzong, however, was unhurried: "The Marshal's Manor can build warships in Qinghai Lake, and it can train sailors of modest experience in Qinghai Lake, but it can never fight a battle in Qinghai Lake... So to train troops through real combat, we must go outside."

"But Commander, that's far too distant."

To be honest, Zhou Riqiang felt this assignment would be worse than sending him back to Ningzhou to serve as prefect.

"It is indeed very far. My brother will also go, along with several thousand troops. Beyond that, we also plan to recruit tenant farmers from Gansu. So there are three major tasks: first, drilling the navy and refining shipbuilding skills; second, civilizing the hundreds of thousands of Oirat people; third, receiving and guiding immigrants from Gansu."

Liu Chengzong shook his head and looked at Zhou Riqiang: "I don't know anyone besides you who could handle these three matters well."

Zhou Riqiang blinked: "Civilizing... hundreds of thousands of people?"

The war had only just ended. Zhou Riqiang felt that using such a term for the Oirat Tatars seemed inappropriate.

"Correct. They are going to learn the language of the Central Plains."

Liu Chengzong nodded and rose: "The western expedition is a matter of immense importance. In the far north, bordering the frozen sea, upon several great rivers that run north to south — build ships, construct forts, establish a river-defense fleet, advance step by step, survey the local mines. The ultimate goal is to force the Tsardom of Russia to negotiate peace and sign a treaty, demarcating the border."

Zhou Riqiang's head buzzed as he listened. He considered himself a well-traveled and knowledgeable official in the north, but the "north" in Liu Chengzong's words had a slight discrepancy from the north he knew.

He asked: "Where is the border?"

Liu Chengzong shook his head: "Their army cannot reach Xining, and our army cannot reach their capital. So where the border is drawn depends on you. Wherever our river-defense fleet can reach, wherever our bastions and fortresses can be built and advance no further — there the border will be drawn."

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Good evening!