Chapter 774: Sending Off

Yulin City.

The old generals living in idle retirement — though each man's body was more broken than the next — matched one another stride for stride in prestige and in the ability to get things done.

On the evening of the seventeenth day of the seventh month, Yu Chongxiao, You Shiwei, and the others left the city; within a single double-hour, word that the city gates would open had spread from the south side to the north.

Early the next morning, the Zhenyuan Gate on the city's south side was opened. First to be let out were eight hundred and forty soldiers, women, and children, led by Garrison Commander You Mian. With horses, supplies, and fodder in tow, they proceeded outside the south gate to await the Marshal's army.

Liu Chengzong's letter had arrived the day before yesterday. That very night, Ren Quan'er summoned the commanders of every rank from the siege force to the Zhenbei Tower to discuss the matter.

That the Grand Marshal, with the battle having reached this stage, would still permit the officers, soldiers, and even the women, children, and common folk of Yulin City to leave the city and enter Shanxi — this, many could not understand.

Especially since Liu Chengzong had won a great victory beyond the frontier. The Mongol nobles from both the desert's south and the desert's north, who had arrived first at Guihua City and the Ordos region, were trading vast quantities of plunder and living in outrageous luxury. The garrison commanders left behind were each more red-eyed with envy than the last.

Quite a few of them, while besieging the city, had already made up their minds: once Yulin City was breached, they would thoroughly ransack the estates of those "hereditary" generals a few times over.

But now the Grand Marshal was allowing them to take their household soldiers, their families, and their servants and leave — wouldn't that mean they'd be taking their wealth with them too?

Then all this battle would yield was Yulin City itself — utterly pointless. The Marshal's Office was not the Great Ming, which needed border walls to maintain. Ask ten commanders from the Marshal's Office, and seven would have no idea where their borders even were.

Of the remaining three, one would say Guihua City, another would say the desert's north, and the last would firmly insist that Taimeng Garrison was not only their western border but their northern border as well.

In the north, they had no opponent worth the name, so the concept of a border line simply did not exist. Wherever the hooves of the Red-Armored Cavalry could tread — that was their frontier.

Given that, a single city like Yulin held no great significance.

But Ren Quan'er did not need them to understand. With a bunch of surrendered generals under his command all thirsting to get rich, what was there to explain?

If the Grand Marshal wanted them to go to Shanxi, to the capital region, then the Grand Marshal had his reasons.

The order was given; they just had to carry it out.

Ren Quan'er's command to the assembled generals was therefore this: throughout the entire process, maintain a tight, impenetrable defense on all four sides. Open only a single corridor along the border wall. Have Zhou Qing and Hui Dengxiang, who knew the terrain intimately, organize troops, villages, and watchtower-forts along the route to ensure that the people leaving Yulin City, moving at a fixed daily pace and with reliable provisions, would depart Shaanxi as quickly as possible.

This route truly had to rely on those two local bandits from Hengshan — Zhou Qing and Hui Dengxiang.

The two of them had once been Wang Jiayin's men. Wang Jiayin's area of operations was precisely this line of border wall running through Yulin, Jiazhou, Shenmu, and Fugu — at most, they'd leap across the Yellow River and enter Baode Department in Shanxi.

It was precisely because of this that the two of them had been able to carry out the mission of relocating Chen Qiyu's family to Baode Department so smoothly.

Their familiarity with this stretch of land far surpassed that of Zhang Zhen, the commander of the Marshal's Office's Yanqing Brigade.

Now, the time had come once more for the two of them to display their talents.

You Mian was a junior member of the You clan. Chosen to be the first to leave the city, his heart was a mix of grief, indignation, and anxious uncertainty.

Inside the city, the old fellows — whose hands and feet trembled, and for whom a single cough could tug at battle wounds aching all over their bodies — were shouting that the old soldiers of Yulin City had to die looking the part, playing the heroes and stout-hearted men.

Yet they made robust young men like him play the turtle hiding its head, fleeing the city with the women and children, to be escorted out of the territory by the enemy army. What a farce!

A disgrace.

In You Mian's view, if they were going to die, they should all die right here. Since when did going to one's death require seniority?

Yet those old fellows — You Shiwei, You Shilu, Hou Shilu, Wang Shiqin — actually insisted on pulling rank with him.

Every word out of their mouths invoked Ningyuan. They spoke of nothing but how their broken bodies had already repaid the nation, and that young men like him, having rendered no service to the state, were unworthy of the glory of a desperate last stand in an isolated city.

Finally, when the argument grew heated, You Shiwei kicked You Mian flat on his back with one foot and cursed: "My You clan is a military house that has fed on imperial stipends for generations. If in days to come we can achieve merit — chastise the eastern caitiffs, exterminate the western rebels — how can there be no one left to do it? And if heaven and earth are overturned, beneath the walls of the capital, how can there be no son of the You clan? Get out! Get out and go die for the capital!"

Yulin City had organized over a dozen contingents like You Mian's, each led by a young officer, each comprising its own clan's younger generation, women and children, and household soldiers and servants. The aim was to ensure that every contingent, upon reaching the capital or elsewhere, could still re-establish the family, raise a private force, and continue serving the imperial court.

Liu Chengzong did this to reduce the resistance he would face when storming the city. The old soldiers inside Yulin City likewise used this opportunity to strengthen the defensive capacity of their own forces.

By sending the younger generation and non-combatants out of the city, the various generals inside emptied their personal coffers to purchase bean cakes. With fewer defenders, they had more provisions.

At the same time, dividing them into multiple contingents ensured that if the Marshal's army harbored ill intentions, the younger generation leaving the city would not be wiped out in one fell swoop.

But this worry was entirely needless. Ren Quan'er executed Liu Chengzong's orders without the slightest compromise. Zhou Qing and Hui Dengxiang, as surrendered popular-army commanders, were also desperate to demonstrate their capabilities before the Marshal's Office.

An exceedingly demanding march route was drawn up on the spot.

The eight hundred-plus people were divided into three groups, each departing a double-hour apart, covering over sixty li a day. Three watchtowers along the way served as supply stations, preparing meals for them. By the evening of the third day, they reached Shenmu. Two more days of marching brought them to the Yellow River ferry crossing.

In truth, this marching speed was not excessively fast. The problem was that You Mian's people were not all soldiers — half of them were women and children. Even with mules for the women and children to ride, the high-intensity march still inflicted unbearable hardship.

In particular, the men under Zhou Qing and Hui Dengxiang were all former popular-army rovers and mountain bandits. They looked utterly ferocious and murderous. Even when no one paid them any attention, they were visibly straining to suppress their urge to loot and pillage... Who would dare tell them that marching on like this was impossible?

Clearly, aside from the people suffering on the road themselves, no one else — not You Mian, not the Marshal's army outside the city, not You Shilu and the others inside the city — cared how much they suffered on the march.

Everyone cared about only one thing: whether they could make it into Baode Department alive.

When You Mian's contingent successfully crossed the Yellow River and a rider was dispatched at full speed to return the token, You Shilu and the others inside Yulin City were finally at ease.

Liu Chengzong... truly was a man of his word.

After that, one migration contingent after another — led by Hui Jian, You Yangkun, Bai Shenheng, and other young officers of Yulin's younger generation — set out upon the border-wall road to Shanxi.

In truth, the Shanxi side was completely dumbfounded.

The Prefect of Baode was a man named Dai Yuan, a provincial-degree holder from Guangshan in Henan. He had been appointed Prefect of Baede back in the Tianqi era and had held the post for over a decade.

Originally, his term was set to expire in the third year of Chongzhen. Before he could leave, the new Prefect, Wang Guogui, had already taken up the post.

Wang Guogui had just assumed office when Wang Jiayin, Gao Yingxiang, No-Touch-Mud, and Liu Chengzong swept into Shanxi on four routes and raised utter havoc. Baode Department's seat was besieged.

Dai Yuan was thus unable to leave.

Wang Guogui swore an oath before the gods: "Guogui has abandoned his parents ten thousand li away and cast aside his wife and children to the blade's edge. I would rather be shattered together with this city than live alongside the bandits."

He led the people in defending the city, eating and sleeping on the walls. He held Baode's seat, but the accumulated strain broke his health. When Wang Jiayin withdrew back to Shaanxi, Wang Guogui also breathed his last. He had served in Baode Department for barely half a year in total. His wife and children escorted his coffin back to his hometown.

A place like this — no other official dared to come. Dai Yuan, as it happened, still had not left. The clerks and commoners in the city petitioned the court to let Dai Yuan serve another term as Prefect.

And so Dai Yuan, an outsider, became the entrenched local power in Baode.

But Dai Yuan was not, in fact, the sort of official whom everyone praised. He was deeply acerbic and severe in his punishments. Neither the common folk nor the gentry liked him. Yet he was also a capable official — shrewd and decisive in litigation and other matters, able to handle affairs and get things done, but excessively autocratic.

People tend to favor officials who proclaim benevolence and love. Dai Yuan was the exact opposite.

Baode Department originally had an "Abolishing Malpractices Stele," erected years earlier by Prefect Hu Nan.

On it was recorded the abolition of accumulated abuses: collective taxes on peasants, housing levies, village corvée, military corvée, vegetable household duties, charcoal household duties, ceramics household duties, local firewood and charcoal provision, the annual procession's colored banners, shop-front matting, village-elder felt mats, and grain-distribution banquets.

Corvée labor was commuted to horse-price silver; salt taxes were reduced; grain surcharges and disaster-relief grain levies were waived.

Wheat tax was converted to rice tax. Regulations were set for granary bean disbursement. Urban and rural Ever-Normal Granaries and community granaries were established. Interest grain from community granaries was audited and forgiven. The base capital for the officials' integrity-support grain fund was increased.

Militia volunteers were recruited. Nine stockades were constructed. Grain registers were established. Tax receipts were issued. The county school was repaired. School land was allocated. Ritual vessels were cast. Community teachers were engaged.

He expounded the classics and lectured, urged on the students and young scholars, established a stipend of silver for the tribute student class, recommended notable officials, local worthies, and chaste widows, arbitrated disputes over the ferry boats, put military equipment in order, provided rations for prisoners and wages and paper for the granary corvée, storehouse corvée, and all other corvée laborers, deliberated on fees for the village registry and the red-bordered ledger paper, and reinstated the practice of the collection head supplying the mule drivers, so that both hardship and ease were shared equally.

All in all, forty-six items of virtuous governance and good administration were established as a village compact, submitted to the imperial court, and made the permanent system for Baode.

As soon as Dai Yuan took office, he smashed the stele. Permanent system my foot!

Corvée labor was handled however it was handled, taxes were collected however they were collected, local customary fees were taken however they were taken — he tormented every class in Baode Prefecture equally.

The key was, after this man was done tormenting them, everyone was uncomfortable, and no one could do anything about it.

After all, times had changed. The outside world was shifting — Shaanxi was full of roving bandits everywhere. Without a strong government in Baode Prefecture, what could they use to resist?

That was why he could stay on in Baode Prefecture for so long.

Those days lasted until last year, when Liu Chengzong sent Zhou Qing, leading eight hundred men, to relocate Chen Qiyu's entire clan in broad daylight before everyone's eyes.

Dai Yuan expended tremendous effort just to curb the local mood, and then the officers of Yulin Garrison came flooding into Baode Prefecture in wave after wave.

These men did not even stop in Baode Prefecture, but the whole region was already in a state of alarm. People thought to themselves: if the Marshal's Manor had already stormed Yulin Garrison, how much longer could the Yellow River hold?

Once the Qin army invaded eastward, Baode Prefecture on the banks of the Yellow River would be the first to bear the brunt. And yet, the earlier experience of Chen Qiyu's entire clan had already proven that the Marshal's army had the ability to cross the Yellow River and strike Baode Prefecture by surprise.

So much so that for a time, several bands of entrenched bandits rose up in arms, plundering everywhere under the banner of answering the Grand Marshal.

This was in itself a minor matter, yet it stirred up enormous waves in Shanxi — because in Shanxi, the Marshal's army really did exist.

Wang Ziyong and Liu Shiliu of the Three Tribulations Society, who had long been lying low, were traveling and preaching in Pingyang, Lu'an, Zezhou, and other places, planting local agents and lodge chiefs everywhere. When they heard that a Marshal's army had risen up in the north, they were even more astonished than Dai Yuan, the Prefect of Baode.

Wang Ziyong wondered: apart from me, the Grand Marshal has also planted men in Shanxi?

He promptly sent someone to Xi'an to inquire.

What the hell did Xi'an know about Shanxi?

By the time the news had made a full circuit — from Baode Prefecture in Shanxi, which bordered the frontier wall, through Pingyang Prefecture into Hancheng, to Xi'an Prefecture, then north all the way to Yulin across the Yellow River from Baode Prefecture, and further north to Liu Chengzong, who was marching his troops toward Guihua City — the people of Yulin city were nearly all gone.

Liu the Lion stared at this chaotic intelligence, and his head nearly exploded.

At this moment, Liu the Lion was deeply aware that the Marshal's Manor framework truly had a major problem.

It was only because Wang Ziyong had asked one extra question and sent word to Xi'an Prefecture. Had it been any other commander of the Marshal's army, one with strong troops and sturdy horses, the moment he received the news, he would likely have risen up in response to those bandits causing chaos.

This was an extremely dangerous signal. The Marshal's army had once benefited from its loose framework and the high degree of autonomy of its officers, but now that the operation had grown so large, this trait could very easily cause them to suffer unnecessary losses.

Liu Chengzong truly detested those who did things under his name.

His first reaction was to send a letter to the Prefect of Baode, telling Dai Yuan that those bandits stirring up trouble had no connection to the Marshal's army.

And to assign Zhang Zhen of the Yanqing Brigade to dispatch a thousand troops, cross the Yellow River into Baode Prefecture, and assist in suppressing the bandits — and of course, it would be even better to take Baode Prefecture along the way.

Liu the Lion had no other meaning. Whether those using his name were doing good deeds or bad, it made no difference to him — troops had to be sent regardless.

Because their hearts were not sincere. If they truly wished to submit, they only had to send someone across the Yellow River to any village, and they could have contacted the Yanqing Brigade.

But they did not. That meant they were merely exploiting his name, and for that they would certainly face punishment.

Secondly, Liu Chengzong issued a summons to surrender to Baode Prefecture.

Baode Prefecture being tormented by local bandits let Liu the Lion see an opportunity. In any case, Shanxi's field forces had gone off to support the capital region in pursuing Ajige — this was the perfect moment to expand territory eastward across the Yellow River.

Baode Prefecture was perfect.

It was Chen Qiyu's hometown, and its terrain and geography made it relatively isolated. The difficulty of summoning surrender, governing, and defending it was all relatively low — it was the best choice.

Meanwhile, in Guihua City, Liu Chengzong was reading, page by page, the letters Ren Quan'er had sent him from Yulin.

In a short time, Yulin city had already dispatched over ten thousand people to Shanxi. The defensive strength within the city was growing thinner and thinner, yet the will to defend was growing more and more resolute.

To be honest, as a frontier soldier born and raised in Yansui Garrison, Liu Chengzong, like most low-ranking officers and elite soldiers who could not attach themselves to the military aristocratic families, felt a deep-seated loathing for those aristocratic families occupying the high positions.

But now, at this juncture, the choice made by You Shiwei and the others undoubtedly made Liu Chengzong regard them with greater respect.

Subadi, Gombu, Babu, and the others who had come to the southern desert to sell the spoils of war were astonished by such news.

They could not even bring themselves to admire the courage of You Shiwei and the others. They simply could not understand — the situation was clearly at a dead end, so why had none of the old soldiers and old generals of Yulin city surrendered to this day?

In particular, the three of them had witnessed the Marshal army's formidable war-making capability east of the ridge, and they utterly could not fathom it: a single isolated city like Yulin — if they surrendered now, no one would say a single word against those men.

It was instead the Minister of the Rites, Zhang Xianzhong, shaking his head and wagging his chin, who deeply admired their choice. He explained with a sigh: "Getting them to surrender would be easy — the single reason that this battle is doomed to fail is enough."

"It is just that they have even more reasons to fight to the death. Home and country, native soil — any one of them is enough."

Zhang Xianzhong's face was full of emotion, but his smile carried a hint of cruelty. "Grand Marshal, they are seeking death."

"Hahaha, what's wrong with seeking death! They are an isolated city of old soldiers — all heroes."

Liu Chengzong raised his horsewhip high. "Let those who wish to leave, leave. Let those who wish to stay, stay. Are we not also heroes?"

"Then let us fight a satisfying battle and see them off!"

?? Good evening!