Chapter 676: Beg the Grand Marshal to Make Me Emperor

Contact between the two was never easy.

They could feel for each other, could bare their hearts — yet there always remained certain things understood without being spoken.

When two people become the leaders of two factions, the situation grows even more complicated.

Any person, organization, or faction is the same: when weak and at a disadvantage, it is easiest to find good friends, to huddle together for warmth and struggle to survive.

But when striving upward, growing strong, and planning to break through the existing environment, they more often choose to distance themselves from others and go it alone.

In the best case, they drift further and further apart; when relations sour, power struggles and infighting erupt.

This is simply human nature.

Extended to the dealings between two factions, it is all the more true.

Gao Yingxiang was by no means ignorant of terrain — he was an avid reader and a serious Three Kingdoms enthusiast.

He understood perfectly well how critical Hanzhong was for his plan to enter Sichuan and establish a power base.

Hanzhong is the knife-handle of the Qinling Mountains: when it belongs to Shaanxi, the blade-tip points at Chengdu; when it belongs to Sichuan, the blade-tip points straight at Xi'an.

But circumstances are beyond a man's control.

In truth, by Gao Yingxiang's original reckoning, one Hanzhong Prefecture would have been enough for him — enough to meet the needs of survival.

If Sichuan could be taken, advance; if not, it did not matter.

Yet it was precisely this flood, which trapped him north of the Han River, that ruined the land of Hanzhong.

No peasant-army leader understood farming better than Gao Yingxiang.

And for that very reason, he knew best that this waterlogging disaster had already stripped the Hanzhong Basin of the capital needed to rest and recover.

The floodwaters carried away the soil's fertility and deposited silt; the submerged land could not produce grain in the short term.

It needed draining, clearing of dead plants and weeds, loosening and turning of the soil, spreading of lime to disinfect, and repairing of ditches and ridges — every single one of these tasks required massive labor just to restore the soil.

Gao Yingxiang had the ability to drive vast numbers of able-bodied laborers to fight to the death, to storm cities and seize territory; but he lacked the ability to drive them to clear canals and repair ditches.

This made his days north of the Han River hard to endure — he was already on the verge of losing control of his army.

The laws governing how anything develops always leave traces to follow.

Among the first-generation big chiefs of the Shaanxi people's armies, there were those like Wang Zuogua and Wang Jiayin who drew fire, and those like Gao Yingxiang, rich in magnanimity, who could unite leaders of every stripe under one banner.

His character traits made him more like the alliance chief of many leaders than a leader in his own right.

The flip side of that trait, naturally, was that he did not hold such tight restraint and control over his subordinates.

The most ambitious and ferocious men around him — the older generation's Bu Zhan Ni, the younger generation's Zhang Yichuan, and the rising stars Li Zicheng and Zhang Xianzhong — all raised their own banners.

That was because the spatial conditions at the time gave those capable of striking out the opportunity to do so.

Now, under his own direct-line commanders were large numbers of young men forged in the fires of war, who had become the backbone of the Chuang King's Eight Battalions.

Some of them were heroic champions and fierce generals; others behaved no differently from bandits.

But what they shared was bodies covered in razor-sharp blades — every one a death-star descended to earth; once they charged out, they would wreck lands, raze cities, and leave the wilds strewn with corpses.

Unable to charge out, they were like a cluster of hedgehogs huddled together, able only to wound one another.

Sooner or later, that would wound him, Gao Yingxiang, at the head — which was why he needed Liu Chengzong's political support.

Besides, Hanzhong was truly beyond his ability to govern.

He had many talented men under him capable of governing a region and holding a territory, but not one of them could, without grain, struggle on for two years in a Hanzhong that could grow no grain.

That was why Gao Yingxiang sent Gao Ying'en to negotiate with Liu Chengzong, and what he laid out from the very start was the best-case scenario in his mind.

Gao Yingxiang would lead his troops across the Han River, and Hanzhong would be governed by officials dispatched from the Marshal's headquarters — which, mind you, did not say Gao Yingxiang would not station troops in Hanzhong.

And Gao Yingxiang's bottom line was Chengdu Prefecture.

In fact, before the idea of cooperation arose, Gao Yingxiang had already considered the scenario where he could not enter Sichuan.

That was why he intended to enter Sichuan under Liu Chengzong's name.

During the half-year he was trapped north of the Han River by the torrential rains, Gao Yingxiang had researched a great many things.

He increasingly believed that this fellow Liu Chengzong was the man with the best hope of seizing the realm today.

He began his research with the surname itself.

The surname had no meaning.

It did not connect to any other character, carried no specific meaning, was not counted among the great surnames of antiquity, nor was it the name of a fief or place.

Quite miraculous.

The reason this surname appeared was that the first Xia-dynasty ancestor to bear it was born with the river-shaped lines on his hand crooked; the family thought the hand-lines auspicious, copied them down, called him that, and thus the character came to be.

When the ancestor grew up, he studied dragon-rearing under the Huanlong clan and was granted the surname Yulong by the sovereign of Xia.

Having completed his studies, he returned and fed the Xia dynasty's dragons to death, then fled for fear of punishment — and his descendants took the surname Liu.

The one thing that could give this character any meaning at all is that the people who bear it are passionately fond of becoming emperor.

They possess a natural, immense enthusiasm for power and are the number-one rebellion surname under heaven.

Through dynasty after dynasty, they are either being emperor or on the road to rebelling to become emperor.

With the added boost of the Golden Blade Prophecy, it seemed as if they ought not to do any other work — they were simply meant to be emperor.

And the Golden Blade Prophecy was not, in fact, a prophecy.

It was not like the fox's cry, the fish-belly book, or the stone man — things artificially created by men.

Rather, it was that the fellows bearing this surname possessed such an overabundance of entrepreneurial zeal that they succeeded, time and time again.

So much so that the conditions gradually relaxed, and people came to believe that a certain objective law existed.

That law sparked entrepreneurial zeal in still more descendants: so long as the emperor was not surnamed Liu, there was sure to be someone surnamed Liu stirring up trouble.

At times, even when the emperor was surnamed Liu it made no difference — they rebelled all the same.

Gao Yingxiang felt that these people were like lunatics, capable of waging rebellion in a way that struck terror and dread into the heart.

Because when others rebelled, they had reasons and causes — perhaps forced by the times, the people with nothing to live on, or a struggle for power and gain.

Yet for a very long stretch of history, the sheer legitimacy that surname carried meant that simply by bearing that name, they held the Mandate of Heaven and began to rebel.

There were even those who, because of that surname, were assumed to be plotting rebellion when they had no such intention.

The crux of it is, people with this surname have a sinister aura about them.

The cost of their rebellions and the threshold for copying their template were both very low.

Figures like Li Yuan and Li Shimin, and many other rebel leaders besides — those without a family foundation couldn't hope to imitate them.

But for those surnamed Liu, it was a different story.

A wealthy and noble birth was certainly good, but poverty was also excellent.

Being profoundly learned didn't matter, and being utterly illiterate was even more formidable.

A street loafer fond of hounds and horses, keen on making friends — weren't the streets full of them?

If they also carried a hint of heroic spirit, then the sense of déjà vu would immediately set in.

Even if that hero died on the path of rebellion, there might well be a younger brother who could summon meteorites to fill the gap.

Of course, what could not be ignored was that Gao Yingxiang had also discovered that more of those surnamed Liu were actually in an awkward position, not daring to open their family genealogies, unable to openly and honorably tell others who their ancestors were.

Not to mention the metaphysical side — that Liu Shizi, at his birth, heaven sent down portents and a heavenly dog devoured the sun; in Shanxi, even hailstorms avoided him; he led a great army rampaging through smallpox and plague as if entering a land with no one.

It left Gao Yingxiang utterly dumbfounded.

And Sichuan had an even deeper connection with those surnamed Liu.

Some chieftains south of Chengdu, even at this time, still heeded the words of the Grand Sire Zhuge and guarded the gates of the realm for the Great Han.

Objective strength could not be increased in a short time, so for Gao Yingxiang, entering Sichuan and clearly raising the banner of the Liu surname could increase his chances of success somewhat.

This was an absolute necessity.

Therefore, Gao Yingxiang believed that if he could not enter Sichuan under the identity of a great general of the Liu clan, then he himself had even less chance of entering.

The negotiating room he authorized Gao Ying'en was very broad.

The best-case scenario was exchanging official appointments in Hanzhong for political support.

The worst outcome was that he could give up everything except Chengdu Prefecture in exchange for an opportunity to enter Sichuan.

Negotiations, after all, always begin by laying out the most ideal conditions, then letting the other party haggle them down.

In the end, what usually remains is a result that both sides accept while holding their noses and stewing in resentment.

Thanks to the broad negotiating room and the Marshal's Manor having a competent Minister and Chief Steward of the Rites Office, everything proceeded very smoothly.

Zhang Xianzhong had special techniques for intimidation and threats, and the Prince of Han was also thoroughly spineless.

This left Gao Ying'en utterly disoriented between playing the grandson and playing the grandfather, unable to figure out his own family standing.

After several days of back-and-forth between the two sides, the terms for the submission of Gao Yingxiang's division were completely settled.

The conditions were: for Hanzhong, Songpan, Long'an, Baoning, Kuizhou, and Chongqing — four prefectures and one garrison — the selection and assignment of officials and the stationing of troops would all be dispatched by the Marshal's Manor.

However, before Gao Yingxiang's division captured the five prefectures of Chengdu, Mahu, Xuzhou, Zunyi, and Chongqing, they would likewise be stationed in northern Sichuan, and before breaching Chengdu, northern Sichuan would need to provide them with military provisions.

On this basis, Gao Yingxiang would receive the post of Sichuan Regional Commander, with his old division of eight battalions reorganized into the Southern Sichuan First Brigade and the Southern Sichuan Second Brigade.

At the same time, Liu Chengzong made a promise: on the day Gao Yingxiang captured Chengdu, officials from the Personnel Office would enter Sichuan to confer upon him the position of Governor of Sichuan Military and Civil Affairs.

The Southern Sichuan Second Brigade would also be reorganized into the Zhenyuan Brigade, stationed in Pingyue, Zhenyuan, and other areas of Guizhou; additionally, a Zhennan Brigade would be established, stationed in Qujing, Wuding, and other areas of Yunnan.

Of course, Hanzhong had yet to be taken, and Sichuan was so far away its borders couldn't even be glimpsed — talk of Yunnan and Guizhou was undoubtedly painting a grand illusion.

Once the two sides reached an agreement, Gao Ying'en immediately dispatched trusted riders to race into Hanzhong and deliver this news to Gao Yingxiang.

Gao Yingxiang's reply was even faster.

In barely five days, he sent his subordinate, the Daring General Mi Jinshan, to deliver the reply.

Mi Jinshan came merely to deliver a letter, but once he entered Xi'an Prefecture, he started asking around wildly — Cao Yao, Yang Yao, Zhong Hu, Wang Wenxiu, Gao Yingdeng — he inquired about each and every one, like some sort of star-chaser.

Grinning cheerfully at everyone he met, he couldn't go three sentences without thumping his chest and declaring, "I'm a soldier of Lion Camp too!"

He was the most junior of juniors; back then, relying on each other for survival, he and his uncle had entered Lion Camp, his uncle serving as a combat soldier while Mi Jinshan served as an auxiliary soldier, once a subordinate of the Cheng Transport and Supply Outpost.

During the Battle of Yellow Dragon Mountain, his uncle broke his leg and could not follow the main force to Guyuan, so the uncle and nephew stayed in Yan'an Prefecture and went to Lion Gully, where, for his skill in charging and ferocity in battle, he came to be called the Daring General.

Later, however, along came Li Zicheng, whose daring proved a bit fiercer still, so people came to call him Mi the Daring General instead.

The reply Mi Jinshan brought from Gao Yingxiang was rather interesting to Liu the Lion.

Gao Yingxiang was very satisfied with the terms and had only one request: he did not want Chongqing Prefecture.

Liu Chengzong mused to himself, whether you want Chongqing or not is your business — if you don't want it, just don't attack it. Why tell me?

And he even sent someone specifically to say so.

Mi Jinshan said, "Commander, what the Daring King Gao means is that Chongqing Prefecture should go to you, Commander. You must station troops there. Even if you don't want Chongqing Prefecture either, you still need to station a contingent under an Assistant Regional Commander there for joint defense."

Liu the Lion was baffled.

Faced with his confusion, Mi Jinshan explained further, "Commander, within Chongqing Prefecture there is a Zhongzhou, and below Zhongzhou there is a place called Shizhu Pacification Commission."

Shizhu Pacification Commission.

Liu Chengzong understood. That was Qin Liangyu's territory.

Zhang Xianzhong happened to be at his side just then, so he asked, "Are the White Rod troops so formidable that no one dares fight them?"

"White Rod troops? Tch."

Zhang Xianzhong scoffed and explained, "The Commander has been campaigning across the northwest and never marched into Zhili, so you wouldn't know — what's formidable isn't the White Rod troops."

"Those White Rod troops are no different from the Yongning Miao soldiers under the Commander's subordinate Ah Liu. Long poles and heavy armor are nothing to worry about, and besides, the old White Rod troops died off long ago."

"The Shizhu chieftain's daughter-in-law Zhang Fengyi, his nephews Qin Yiming and Qin Gongming, leading native soldiers — we've beaten them all. Zhang Fengyi was even killed by Huang Wazi and his bunch at Liuming Pass in Guangping Prefecture."

"Even among those northern Sichuan stick-wielding bandits of the Yao-Huang lot, there are chiefs surnamed Qin and Ma — they're Shizhu people, leading a gang of White Rod stick bandits in plunder and robbery. They're nothing special."

Having said this, Zhang Xianzhong then turned to Liu Chengzong with a solemn expression and said, "What's formidable is Qin Liangyu."

At the mention of Qin Liangyu, the normally insufferably arrogant Zhang Xianzhong became exceptionally wary: "That old hag is different from the rest. Her second brother died at Hun River, her younger brother died at Yongning, her daughter-in-law died at Guangping. She holds an imperial edict from the late emperor, and civil and military grandees must treat her with courtesy and dare not harbor suspicion."

"With that, anyone would be invincible, let alone the fact that the old hag has spent a lifetime fighting for merit on horseback and possesses military acumen — naturally, she is peerless under heaven."

Once Zhang Xianzhong explained it like that, Liu Chengzong understood.

A vast country like the Great Ming cannot be maintained by a single class or hierarchy; it requires layers of oversight and multiple jurisdictions just to keep most people in their proper places.

Everyone draws profit from it, and everyone will inevitably be trapped by it as well.

It is like a county magistrate: in wartime, when an allied army approaches the city and requests entry to rest and regroup, his duty absolutely forbids him from letting that army inside the walls.

Because an army outside the city has no effect on him, but once they enter and mutiny, his responsibility becomes enormous.

People will always hold others back. Wherever there are people, there will be people holding others back.

The edict the Tianqi Emperor gave to Qin Liangyu served exactly this purpose — civil and military officials were forbidden to harbor suspicion.

Qin Liangyu could lead her troops into whichever city she wished, and into that city she would go. The Emperor had spoken, after all; even if her soldiers tore the city down, the blame would fall entirely on Tianqi.

This meant that Qin Liangyu, whose word was absolute law in Shizhu, could still enjoy a smooth, green-light path in everything she did once she left Shizhu.

That in itself is combat strength.

"If that is the case, go back and tell Master Gao that I agree to his terms."

Liu Chengzong said to Mi Jinshan with a smile, "Tell him not to worry about the Shizhu Tusi. Once we enter Sichuan, I will deal with her."

A portion of Qin Liangyu's combat strength came from the Emperor's prestige, which kept the civil and military bureaucracy from tying her hands.

So for Liu Chengzong, Qin Liangyu's capability has already diminished.

Because Sichuan is surrounded by Shaanxi, Qinghai, and Huguang, it is now very difficult for her to contact the imperial court.

As long as Sichuan's connection to the outside world is severed, the Sichuan officials will very quickly begin to hold Qin Liangyu back.

But before Mi Jinshan could leave, a Feathered Forest Guard strode swiftly in from outside the hall and whispered a few words into Liu Chengzong's ear, making his eyes widen.

At the end of the twelfth month, as the eighth year of Chongzhen was drawing to a close, Henan's Regional Commander Zhang Yichuan, who had been missing for over a month, had actually sent someone to deliver a letter into Xi'an Prefecture.

Liu the Lion immediately snatched the letter away, tore off the wax seal, and unfolded it — but after reading just the first line, he rolled his eyes.

The salutation at the top of the letter read, in bold: "Your humble subordinate Zhang Yichuan earnestly beseeches the Grand Marshal to confer upon this humble subordinate the title of Emperor."