Chapter 421: Disaster in Northern Sichuan

On the evening of the third day of the eighth month.

On the table in the Grand Marshal's yamen lay four finely crafted, plainly adorned wooden boxes.

The boxes were filled with lime and sealed with the heads of four generals: Zhang Yingjia, Garrison Commander of Erlang Pass in Baoning Prefecture, Sichuan, and Assistant Commander Huang Chaoxi; Guo Zhanchen, Garrison Commander of Baizhang Pass, and Commander Chen Zhong.

Along with the four heads came five hundred taels of gold and a jointly signed letter from the Daba Mountains on the Shaanxi-Sichuan border.

The letter said the writer was one Yao Zhangru, a Hanzhong licentiate, nicknamed Sky-Shaker, who had risen in arms years ago with Wang Daliang of Hanzhong; after Wang Daliang's death, he led the routed troops into the Daba Mountains and operated in Kuizhou and Baoning, two prefectures in northeastern Sichuan.

They now have thirty thousand troops, divided into fifteen camps: Sky-Shaker Yao Zhangru, Middle Dipper Star Huang Long, Orderly King Zhang Xian, World-Seizer King Wang Youjin, Heaven-Contender King Yuan Tao, World-Contender King Yang Bingyun, Marching-Myriad Hu Jiusi, Rebel-Forcer King Liu Weiming, Heaven-Shaker King Bai Jiaolong, Black Tiger King Wang Gao, Heaven-Obedient King Liang Shizheng, Yellow Sparrowhawk Jing Keqin, Little Han King Zhao Duoduo, Little Qin King Wang Guangxing, and Living Yama King Ma Chao.

If the Grand Marshal was willing to accept them, they would serve as the vanguard to open the road south into Sichuan for the Marshal's headquarters.

Liu Chengzong set down the letter, his brow deeply furrowed, and saw Fan Sanlang return from seeing off the messenger outside the yamen; seeing his expression, she circled behind him, kneaded his shoulders, and asked, "Whose heads are these?"

"The big chiefs in the Ba Mountains are the old Hanzhong bandits from years past. The letter says they want to submit and can help me enter Sichuan. They killed four pass-guarding generals in eastern Sichuan and sent the heads over — most likely afraid of being looked down on."

Liu Chengzong's face was deeply troubled. This Yao Zhangru really knew how to make things difficult. He had just been about to very seriously establish a title and proclaim himself king, and then this joint letter requesting submission arrived — fifteen men, and damn it, eleven of them were kings.

And the matter was not easy to handle either. A proper incorporation — he couldn't even afford the grain for a proper incorporation. Without going through a strict incorporation procedure, once they entered Sichuan, who would be helping whom to gain a foothold?

After all, this was no longer the early days of Luo Rucai and Li Laochai. After all these years of massive uprisings and warfare, the fighting strength of the righteous armies — or rather, the roving bandits — had already risen.

What's more, the number thirty thousand was extremely sensitive for Liu Chengzong. After all, his own combat troops whom he fed and paid numbered exactly thirty thousand. He knew better than anyone the appetite of this gold-devouring beast.

Unless Yao Zhangru had already established de facto separatist rule, their military discipline could not possibly be good.

And they could not possibly have established de facto separatist rule in eastern Sichuan — if they had, the letter sent would not have been like this.

Thus, in his mind, Liu the Lion already had a rough guess about the situation of Yao Zhangru's fifteen camps. Their troop strength was probably genuine, their military discipline poor, and they were on the run through eastern and northern Sichuan.

Having thought this through, Liu Chengzong shook his head, cast this vexation to the back of his mind, and waved his hand. "Have the craftsmen make four wooden bodies for the heads, place them in coffins, and bury them. The coffin money will come from the gold they sent. Bury them beneath the drying grounds on West Mountain."

He added, "Don't bury them on East Mountain. Four government officers down there would be outnumbered and weak. If they get beaten up and come running to me in the middle of the night asking to move their graves, that won't do."

Fan Sanlang was tickled into a soft laugh by him, and only then heard him ask with a serious expression, "How many days has the messenger been here?"

"Four days. Two men — a shyster advisor with a young bodyguard. The old master arranged for them to stay outside the city, in the same courtyard where Hauge lived."

Hearing this, Liu Chengzong let out a snort of laughter. That courtyard would henceforth be the Marshal's headquarters' designated guesthouse.

Fan Sanlang asked, "Shall we see the two of them?"

"No rush. Didn't that second brother-in-law of yours come too, traveling a thousand li just to see me? Let's see him first. Is he also staying outside the city?"

Fan Sanlang nodded, but then, with some difficulty, said, "Better let him keep waiting. I think there's something off about him."

The second brother-in-law was named Che Cai, an old licentiate from Xi Prefecture in Shanxi. Amid the chaos of war, he had traveled all the way to Lanzhou, and the strangest part was that he had brought along two Shaanxi provincial graduates and six Lanzhou licentiates, crossed the Yellow River, and been brought into Hehuang by Company Commander Jing Xiaoliu of Wild Fox Fort.

But they had been stopped at Chengyun. If not for Che Cai, this old licentiate who said he wanted to see Marshal's Headquarters General Fan, the nine of them, let alone meeting Liu Chengzong, would not even have gotten past Nianbo.

How shrewd was Liu Chengyun? He was a true chief administrator rooted in the region, managing the military and civilian affairs of Hehuang, widely experienced and knowledgeable. He understood best that reserved, standoffish air of provincial graduates and licentiates.

Never mind the provincial graduates and licentiates of Lanzhou — in the Hehuang Valley alone, after the war, only four provincial graduates and ninety-two licentiates remained.

Let's put it this way: any who didn't flee had reasons they couldn't flee.

Some had elderly family members unfit for long journeys, or were elderly themselves. When the fighting broke out, they had no way to flee to Lanzhou, so they took their families and hid in the mountains.

Others who hid in the mountains were muddle-headed fools who misjudged the situation.

Then there were two more types. Forty-seven licentiates were of poor origin and simply resigned themselves to fate. Another twenty-four had origins similar to Liu the Lion's — they stayed behind as representatives to plead with the Liu bandits on behalf of their fellow villagers and elders.

The behavior of these last twenty-four in particular was startlingly identical. As early as when Liu Chengzong led his army into Hehuang and occupied Xining Guard, they had proposed in their villages to raise funds and build forts. During the great Hehuang battle, they protected their fellow villagers by bringing them into the forts for refuge. Many were even prepared to fight to the death if plundered.

In the end, the Marshal's headquarters' army paid them no attention at all. After defeating the Five Garrisons' allied forces, they brought Hehuang to order with a mere proclamation. The villagers huddled in their forts, not knowing what to do, and then Liu Chengyun sent smallpox doctors over. First he told them to come out of the forts; when the commoners refused, he put the smallpox doctors into the forts.

Probing little by little, they eventually went back home to farm.

Even now, the reasons these people stayed varied, but what they shared was a lack of mutual trust with the Marshal's headquarters. People were all very cooperative — serving as agricultural studies erudites in the village wards, acting as village representatives when something came up — that was no problem. But if the Marshal's headquarters wanted to appoint them as officials, they would flee into the mountains.

Liu Chengyun never pressured them. Though he was no licentiate himself, he kept licentiates and provincial graduates by his side; he understood this mentality.

Licentiates and provincial graduates who held examination rank might be unwise, might be out of touch with the times, might be unlucky — but there were absolutely no fools among them.

For a commoner facing military disaster or drought, rising in arms and risking one's life was a way to change one's fate; the worst outcome was losing one's life. Even if they failed, as long as they kept their lives, the worst the authorities would do was consolidate their households into a jia unit, and life would go on as before — they might even get a share of land.

Those with examination rank did not fear temporary hardship; they only sought a mouthful of food to muddle through the days. Unless driven to a dead end, very few would go chasing after illusory wealth and rank. What they thought of was steadily enduring until the situation stabilized.

Endure, and a licentiate remained a licentiate, a provincial graduate remained a provincial graduate. Knowledge was power.

For several Lanzhou provincial graduates and licentiates to suddenly pop up, claiming they wanted to join the Marshal's headquarters... only a chieftain of bandit origin would believe such nonsense.

It was just that Che Cai said he was a fellow villager of General Fan from Fan Family Mountain in Shanxi. Chengyun figured there was no harm in keeping them under tight watch and placing them in New City. After all, his second brother had always been extremely wary — even when the border army leaders Yang Yao and Wang Wenxiu came to join, he still had to ask, "Where's that fierce general Song Shouzhen?"

Whatever little tricks they had, Chengyun was confident these provincial graduates and licentiates were no match for his second brother in scheming.

On the contrary, sending them over might even provide a good show.

The good show lay in this: the General Fan Sanlang that Che Cai spoke of was a man, a veteran of the Liaodong reinforcement border army, with arms thicker than Che Cai's legs, the kind who could draw a hundred-catty heavy bow and take on eight men at once.

When they met, both were dumbfounded.

Che Cai had heard that the Marshal's headquarters had a General Fan Sanlang, and the one he wanted to find was indeed Fan Sanlang of Fan Family Mountain, but he never expected to meet Du Qiao'er. Du Qiao'er had thought there were still survivors from Fan Family Mountain, but never expected that the one she met would be Master Che, who had been her second sister's husband for all of three days.

Meeting an old acquaintance in a strange land was already a matter of great joy, let alone two survivors from neighboring villages reuniting in distant Qinghai.

Although Fan Sanlang had only met Che Cai once before, and Che Cai had only been her brother-in-law for three days, back then Master Che had treated Fan Sanlang's whole family very well. In those famine years, taking a musician household's daughter as a concubine, he had even specially made a full-sleeved robe of figured silk.

In those three days, Master Che of the neighboring village had been their family's hope.

Fan Sanlang repeatedly instructed the bodyguards to take good care of Licentiate Che, and had even prepared herself inwardly — if Che Cai asked for an official post, she could help put in a good word with Liu Chengzong.

But when she heard that Che Cai had come to see Liu Chengzong, her enthusiasm waned by a few degrees.

Che Cai had clearly come to conduct business. Whatever matter could drive a Shanxi licentiate to travel a thousand li to Qinghai and keep him safe and sound along the way — Fan Sanlang did not think it was her place to speak up on such a matter.

Liu Chengzong, however, was unconcerned by such things. He guessed what Fan Sanlang was thinking and patted the hand on his shoulder. "Good matter or bad, you only know once you've met. Since you say to see him later, then let him wait a while longer. I'll first see this shyster advisor you mentioned."

In his heart, he was very interested in Sky-Shaker's group. He had originally thought the first to send him a letter from Sichuan would be Zhang Xianzhong, who had entered Hanzhong, but it turned out to be this batch of old Hanzhong bandits who had followed Wang Daliang in rebellion years ago.

Before long, the man Fan Sanlang had called a shyster advisor, along with his young bodyguard, was brought into the hall.

Seeing the man, Liu Chengzong understood why Sanlang had called him a shyster advisor.

The man wore a brand-new blue satin Daoist robe, topped with a square scholar's cap and spectacles — clearly a Confucian scholar — but his face had been tattooed with the two characters "Heavenly King" in cinnabar, giving his whole bearing the air of a doormat.

The young bodyguard behind him, however, who was just then hitching up his belt and adjusting his clothes, looked only fourteen or fifteen. At that age, he didn't quite look like an adult, nor quite like a child, but his fierce face and murderous aura made him seem like a figure of some consequence.

The little fellow had a bowl cut like a Mongol, wore black padded trousers with his calves wrapped in leg bindings, and carried a belt and a pair of heavy cavalry boots in his hands.

The marshal's guard handed him a short-sleeved outer robe with sleeves reaching the elbow, then took a half-body liangdang armor inlaid with large plates and left.

The marshal's gate guard Tianbao had stripped him stark naked on the street before letting him in. The kid didn't look old, but his whole body was like a weapons arsenal.

At his waist hung a specially forged two-foot waist saber; beneath his short outer robe was another short blade; tucked at his lower back was a hand axe; undo his belt and out came three throwing knives; take off his boots, and two daggers were strapped to his calf bindings.

The first to speak was also this child. He knelt on the ground, set the boots aside, kowtowed, and raised his head: "Qin Keduo, son of Shaking Heaven, pays respects to the Grand Marshal."

After speaking, Qin Keduo turned his head and glared at the scholar: "Kowtow!"

The scholar, caught by that glare, flinched all over in fright and hurriedly prostrated himself: "This student, Chen Min, licentiate of Ba Prefecture, pays respects to the Grand Marshal."

Liu Chengzong sat in the hall, observing this odd pair, and said: "Rise and speak. That surname of yours — are you an adopted son?"

"Replying to the Marshal, six years ago my father picked me up from the banks of the Southern River. I am the eldest of sixteen adopted sons."

Liu Chengzong nodded, just about to speak, when he saw the licentiate Chen Min, who had just stood up, suddenly take a large step to the side, throw himself down, and kowtow with loud thuds, his words rapid and urgent: "I beg the Marshal to take me in and save my life, I beg the Marshal to save me!"

Qin Keduo, who had not yet risen, suddenly furrowed his brows and reached for his waist — but grasped at nothing. He stood up, about to lunge over, when Liu Chengzong from the hall stopped him: "Don't you dare move!"

The furious Qin Keduo froze, seeming to debate whether to move, and was promptly pinned down by the guards beside him. Only then did Liu Chengzong ask Chen Min: "Rise and speak. What is this about?"

Chen Min, however, dared neither rise nor lift his head, and simply went on: "The Shaking Yellow bandits crossed the mountains into Sichuan in the first year of Chongzhen, making the Ba Mountains their lair. They plunder the populace, kill everyone they meet, and raid cities and stockades."

"This student was abducted last year. The bandits, seeing I could read, kept me bound with ropes until this year when they finally loosened them. They also forcibly tattooed my face. If I flee back, the authorities will surely capture me and claim credit. I beseech the Grand Marshal to save my life. This student will repay you as an ox or a horse!"

Liu Chengzong asked, puzzled: "Don't you know I am also a rebel?"

"This student knows. But in the several days since entering Huangzhong, the common folk see no weapons of war; they cherish their kin and respect their elders. It is truly a paradise. The Grand Marshal and the Shaking Yellow cudgel bandits are by no means the same kind of people!"

"You're farting!"

Qin Keduo, pinned firmly by the guards, glared at Chen Min with eyes nearly spitting fire, his teeth almost ground to dust. The moment Chen Min finished, he cursed: "You dog, wasting my effort digging up grass roots to feed a mongrel bastard like you!"

Chen Min straightened up and swore an oath to heaven: "This student saw it with his own eyes. Last year, the Shaking Yellow cudgel bandits plundered Guangyuan. The people fled into saltpeter caves in the mountains. Sichuan is full of such caves that can hold hundreds. The bandits surrounded the cave mouths, smoked them out with fire, and killed over four hundred people to the last!"

The licentiate spoke with righteous fury; the young bandit grew even more enraged: "We are not like that!"

Liu Chengzong's estimation of Yao Zhangru dropped a few notches in his mind. Setting aside the killing and local devastation for now, just looking at the envoys he had chosen — what was this supposed to be?

Were the yamen of the Great Ming too full to hold them, so they ran from the Daba Mountains all the way to He-Huang to file a lawsuit?

He asked Qin Keduo: "Is what he said false? Is he slandering you?"

Qin Keduo shot another furious glare at Chen Min, then raised his head to look at Liu Chengzong, but his forcefulness had diminished somewhat: "No. A real man owns what he does. I set that fire myself... but we don't kill everyone we meet, and we certainly didn't start out killing people!"

Liu Chengzong leaned back and said nothing.

Qin Keduo said: "My father and the others are all Qin people. The year he picked me up, there were only eighty-some people. Now our thirteen families number thirty thousand. How could every single person be kidnapped or abducted?"

"Northern Sichuan — Jianmen, Erlang, Chaotian, Qipan, Baishui — is ringed with perilous passes everywhere. The government troops had us hemmed in. At first, we could only kidnap some fat-headed gentry and demand ransom, or waylay merchant caravans and mountain traders with clubs. Later, when government troops came to suppress us and were beaten back, that's when we got some weapons."

Qin Keduo said: "My father often says the people of northern Sichuan are fierce and unruly. The natives of those great stockades are tough, and the gentry everywhere drill village militia. They kill us on sight. Are we only allowed to be killed on sight, and not allowed to kill them on sight?"

Liu Chengzong more or less understood. This Shaking Yellow bunch was different from the roving bandits he knew.

When others rose up, starving refugees and displaced people would further evolve into roving bandits, and in the course of fighting government troops, advance again to become disorderly soldiers or rebel armies — ultimately, they were all armies opposing the imperial court.

The Shaking Yellow were different. As survivors of Wang Daliang's failed early uprising, their strength was too weak, and they had fled to a place locked in by defenses on all sides, gnawing on grass roots in the mountains. They had completely lost the righteous cause of poor commoners rising up.

They were bandits, mountain bandits — very traditional mountain bandits, adept at highway robbery, kidnapping, and killing. Locked in eastern and northern Sichuan by the passes, they fought the northern Sichuan gentry over the common people, locked in a cycle of mutual slaughter.

Over time, the hatred had grown so thick it could not be dissolved. All of Sichuan would come to know of their atrocities. This was a disaster about to happen — a disaster for the common people and for them alike.

Because once such a situation developed, in a few more years, any leader with ambitions in Sichuan who wanted the people's hearts and the province itself would have to exterminate them first.

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Good evening!