Chapter 779: Hanzhong Prefecture Gazetteer

Li Zicheng accepted his fate as a civil official in the Marshal's mansion with remarkable ease.

Especially after witnessing the Second Brigade's coordinated musket-and-artillery assault on the city, wave after wave.

By now, he not only felt that Liu Chengzong assigning him to the Military Staff Office wasn't suppression — he even believed this civil post was something he'd only managed to secure through their early relationship.

A civil post was good.

Civil officials don't command troops, and without troops there's no chance to show weakness; without showing weakness, there's no losing face.

Bandit suppression — let the bandit suppression be handled as the Grand Marshal said, send Colonel Li Guo to lead the men. He himself still had a long road ahead in the Marshal's mansion.

Li Zicheng truly realized he had been measuring a gentleman's heart with a petty man's mind.

Liu Chengzong clearly didn't care about his Chuang Jiang Camp at all. To some extent, for the Marshal's army — vast in scale, strict in organization, and superior in equipment — the Chuang Jiang Camp was a burden.

Especially since the Marshal's army already visibly carried many burdens, the Chuang Jiang Camp's arrival only made the situation worse.

Of course, this was merely Li Zicheng's conjecture — though it was also the consensus among the Marshal's army's officers.

But Liu Chengzong did not consider the Chuang Jiang Camp a burden.

In truth, he had been exceptionally warm toward Li Zicheng's arrival from the start, a warmth that was genuine and heartfelt.

On the very day Zhou Qing began digging the tunnel from Haichao Temple to Yulin's eastern city wall.

Liu Chengzong formally established the Chuang Jiang Camp's order, issuing orders appointing Li Guo as Colonel of the Chuang Jiang Camp, and He Jin, Guo Yingpin, and Tuo Yangkun as Brigade Commanders.

This appointment of ranks was primarily to maintain stability, because Li Zicheng's Chuang Jiang Camp was, in essence, a miniature Marshal's mansion... He Jin, Guo Yingpin, and Tuo Yangkun had originally all been leaders allied with Li Zicheng.

They had been battered together at Yunyang, their four camps reduced to just over a thousand men, their organization a complete mess. Since the Colonel post had already gone to Li Guo, the three Brigade Commander posts could no longer go to men of the Chuang Camp faction and had to be given to He, Guo, and Tuo.

Li Zicheng's own subordinates, men like Tian Jianxiu and Liu Zongmin, could only serve as Company Commanders.

In reality, even this still couldn't properly balance the ranks after the four armies merged, because before these men were shattered, there had been nearly a hundred camp masters who had each commanded over five hundred troops.

Liu Chengzong valued these men greatly. They were not just the elite of the four camps of Li Zicheng, Guo Yingpin, Tuo Yangkun, and He Jin.

Many were from Mizhi. Liu Chengzong had grown up following his father in the Mizhi county yamen; he had lived in Mizhi longer than in Yan'an. These men were likewise his fellow townsmen and juniors.

He wasn't Zhang Xianzhong, locked in rivalry with Li Zicheng, their interactions fraught with threat and pressure. He felt no pressure dealing with either of them.

In martial prowess, troop strength, military strategy, talent, or prestige.

Even in looks — Liu the Lion, well-nourished since childhood, was far more handsome than either of them.

What pressure could he possibly feel?

So Liu Chengzong simply summoned them all together and ordered Li Zicheng, Li Guo, Guo Yingpin, Tuo Yangkun, and He Jin to each recommend three literate officers for the New City Academy, and six junior officers to fill the Tiger Guard and Feathered Forest battalions.

Only then was the Chuang Jiang Camp dismantled where it could be dismantled and divided where it could be divided, achieving a result that satisfied all parties.

Liu Chengzong couldn't help but look ahead: in half a year or a year, these Chuang Camp officers integrated into the Marshal's army would formally become new blood, further strengthening the army's reserve of commanders.

In the days that followed, a thunderous boom sounded from Yulin's eastern wall. The tunnel from Haichao Temple, after digging, shoring, and setting fire, finally caused the city wall to collapse, opening a breach over ten zhang wide.

Under Liu Fangming's command, the main army carried earth-filled sacks to pile at the collapse and charged into the city through the breach.

It was precisely at this moment that a letter from home, sent from Xi'an Prefecture, reached Liu Chengzong's hands.

The writer was old Liu the Lion's father.

The matter — state affairs.

Liu Chengzong's old acquaintance, drought, had come again.

In Shaanxi's Qingyang and Fengxiang prefectures, aside from a bit of snow during the New Year, not a drop of rain had fallen this year. By now, one was plagued by locusts, the other by drought.

Hanzhong, as ever, was the same old story: torrential rain, with flooding affecting over a hundred thousand mu of farmland.

The prefects of the three prefectures were nearly going mad, and they'd dragged in Hanzhong Brigade Commander Luo Rucai as well. His subordinate Colonel Zu Chengyong's roving battalion, stationed at Ningqiang, had its camp washed away by a flash flood — the deluge swept away over two hundred men. On top of that, the Hanzhong princely mansion's granary was leaking, and the army rations were about to mold.

Furious, Luo Rucai had flown to Xi'an with his blade drawn, stormed into the Rites Office, and demanded to know who built the granary of Prince Rui, Zhu Changhao's mansion, threatening to slaughter the man in charge.

Of course, he couldn't slaughter the princely mansion's steward. Prince Rui's household stewards had all been sent into military exile at Taimeng Garrison north of the Tianshan Mountains after the war. Taimeng's granaries froze solid as rock — no fear of leaking there.

Naturally, as Liu Chengzong read this news, his heart was like still water — exceptionally calm.

He had long grown accustomed to droughts, floods, locust plagues, and pestilence. He simply jotted down a few brief instructions: let the prefects exterminate locusts where locusts needed exterminating, repair waterworks where waterworks needed repairing, and find ways to evade floods where floods needed evading — and not to get themselves drowned.

That said, not everyone in the Marshal's mansion's Hanzhong faction was such a fool.

Prefect Jiang Yingchang had done excellent work. Barely a few months into his post, he had used his spare time to edit and revise the Wanli-era Hanzhong Prefecture Gazetteer, updating the records of surveyed farmland, wasteland, population, and taxes.

He had tallied for Hanzhong's various counties: over 9,890 qing of cultivated land, 4,206 qing of wasteland and flood-damaged fields, 59 mu of silted sandbanks, and a population of 111,334 able-bodied males.

Projected tax revenue: 59,934 dan of grain in kind, and 49,945 taels in commuted silver.

Jiang Yingchang's official dispatch ended there, with a final line: "Awaiting the Grand Marshal's decision."

Court Gentleman Zhao Jifang studied it from every angle but couldn't make sense of it. He asked, "Marshal, is Prefect Jiang's 'awaiting decision' about revising the gazetteer? Why do I sense a hint of resentment?"

Zhao Jifang's official post was Court Gentleman, responsible for Liu Chengzong's attendant documents. Originally, his status in the Marshal's mansion was particularly low.

It wasn't that the post itself was low in status or power — in fact, in matters of documentation, he was effectively the chief secretary of the Marshal's mansion.

But because he followed at Liu Chengzong's side, the people he saw every day were the most arrogant and domineering lot in the Marshal's mansion, and none of them took this minor Xiucai scholar the least bit seriously.

However, during this eastern campaign, when he used a barbecue skewer to parry a flying dagger hurled at Liu Chengzong at Guangwu Camp, his status had risen dramatically. Now even Zhang Xianzhong addressed him as "Mister Zhao" when they met.

Still, Zhao Jifang was young, after all, and it was only natural he couldn't read Jiang Yingchang's letter.

Liu Chengzong understood at a glance and laughed easily. "Decision about what? Army rations. It's perfectly normal for Prefect Jiang to have resentment. He's held a grudge against me since the first time I met him. Ha!"

As he spoke, Liu the Lion grew cheerful himself and said to those around him, "Who'd have thought — back in Heshui County, I actually picked up a capable and diligent official!"

He hadn't had much expectation for Jiang Yingchang to begin with. The man was indecisive and lacked forceful methods — not the sort of official who could accomplish great things in this era.

Jiang Yingchang was a luckless wretch of Xiucai background, sent to Heshui as county magistrate, where he hadn't performed particularly well. He could neither collaborate with the local gentry nor muster the strength to oppose them, and accomplished little.

Had Liu the Lion been the slightest bit more ruthless, or his army's discipline the slightest bit worse, Jiang would not have survived that year.

Later, with Chongzhen's discerning eye, he was promoted to Prefect of Pingliang — but that was only because Liu Chengzong's passage had smashed Heshui County's internal power brokers and taken the outside roving bandits with him. Even a dog tied to the post would have had achievements the following year.

In Pingliang, he still accomplished little — he was simply a person occupying the prefect's seat, nothing more.

Sending him to Hanzhong as prefect was merely because it was hard for anyone else to partner with Luo Rucai.

Luo Rucai wasn't like Zhang Xianzhong. Zhang Xianzhong was vicious but generally didn't clash with civil officials; Luo Rucai was a loose cannon. Put a tough civil official with him, and something really might go wrong.

But in the few months Jiang Yingchang had been Prefect of Hanzhong, with no one holding him back, he had actually done quite well.

Liu Chengzong held Jiang Yingchang's official dispatch and said to Zhao Jifang with a smile, "This Prefect Jiang has done better in Hanzhong than your elder brother has in Xi'an Prefecture!"

Zhao Jifang's elder brother, Zhao Jichang, a provincial graduate, had been serving as Magistrate of Xianyang when Liu Chengzong promoted him to Prefect of Xi'an.

Zhao Jichang had not done a bad job either — steady and by the book, with a strong emphasis on culture and education, after all he had previously served as an instructor in Jiexiu County, Shanxi.

But Jiang Yingchang was different. By the time he went to Hanzhong, he was already very familiar with the work of a prefect.

And perhaps because he had been working in Shaanxi all along, he understood the administrative chaos of the Marshal's headquarters better, so right from the start of his tenure he recompiled the Hanzhong prefectural gazetteer.

Compiling a prefectural gazetteer, strictly speaking, is not a mandatory duty of a prefect.

In fact, if one wanted to compile one, normally the prefect, vice prefect, and other officials had to submit a special report to the imperial court, and only with approval could they proceed.

But the Marshal's headquarters was different — if someone was willing and able to compile one, they were grateful enough.

This way, the central administration of the Marshal's headquarters could gain a preliminary understanding of local taxes, households, and farmland.

If every prefecture could do this well, then the next year's budget for the entire Marshal's headquarters could be drawn up easily, the Revenue Office could allocate finances, and the whole system would link up, creating a situation of sustained development.

Instead of the current state, robbing Peter to pay Paul, with the entire Marshal's headquarters scraping by as it lurched forward.

"Jifang, write a few letters. First to — first to Hanzhong Prefecture. Tell Jiang Yingchang to send men to carefully measure the fields and count the population. Don't just copy the Wanli-era figures. Survey the land accurately. Tell him not to worry about the garrison issue; there will be a resolution soon."

"Have Luo Rucai fully cooperate with Prefect Jiang in measuring the fields. For the surplus troops with no food, transfer two battalions to Xi'an Prefecture to be fed."

After saying this, Liu Chengzong frowned and added, "Also write him a separate letter. Tell him to find someone at the camp gate to give him thirty lashes. If that fool dares act rashly again and charge my yamen with a blade, I'll knock his head into his belly and kick him all the way to Taimeng Garrison."

"Never mind. And there's that even bigger fool Zu Chengyong. His failure to acclimatize has reached an extreme — he pitched camp at the foot of a mountain that had just been flooded. Have him and Luo Rucai each give the other thirty lashes at the camp gate. I want to see the man alive or his corpse dead. After the lashing, have them go find all my soldiers and bring them back."

Zhao Jifang hurriedly took out the paper and brush he carried with him and quickly jotted it down with a charcoal pencil.

Then he heard Liu Chengzong continue, "Also, in that letter to Jiang Yingchang — Hanzhong floods every year, submerging hundreds of thousands of mu of land. This can't go on. Tell him to find a solution. Once the waters recede, tour the various areas and build water conservancy works."

Liu the Lion had originally not thought much of Hanzhong Prefecture; he only felt that since it produced mountain tea, bringing it into the fold would at least give him a tea-producing region.

But when Jiang Yingchang presented the prefectural gazetteer, he could no longer afford to overlook it.

Because in terms of population, farmland, and tax revenue, Hanzhong — excluding Xining Prefecture — was second only to Xi'an Prefecture and Fengxiang Prefecture.

Xining Prefecture operated under equal-field land purchase, which was not a normal state of affairs.

At present, Hanzhong Prefecture's cultivated and fallow land combined amounted to over 1.4 million mu, including a considerable amount of paddy fields capable of growing rice.

And the annual flooding, in these times, was not inherently a bad thing.

It precisely showed that Hanzhong had abundant water resources. It was only that decades of neglected water conservancy since the Wanli era had left the river channels and canals clogged, with nowhere to divert or store water, creating the pattern of yearly rains and yearly severe waterlogging.

So they needed to dig reservoirs, build ponds, and construct sluice gates — a whole series of massive projects.

Liu Chengzong estimated that if this work got underway, Jiang Yingchang would not finish it within his term as Prefect of Hanzhong.

But by the same token, if it were truly accomplished and done well, Xi'an would gain a stable source of grain and fodder.

After all, further south in Sichuan, Liu Chengzong could not really count on them for grain and fodder. Even if taxes were levied in the future, the grain and fodder collected in kind would have to be retained locally, and at most they would send silver commuted from the grain tax.

Hanzhong, however, was different. If water conservancy could be developed, it was not too far from Xi'an. Establishing a military grain processing center to process raw grain could provide considerable support to the Marshal's army.

As for the garrison issue that Jiang Yingchang resented most, to Liu Chengzong it was the least of his concerns.

Each garrison brigade of the Marshal's headquarters was stationed across two prefectures. Only Luo Rucai's newly formed Hanzhong Brigade was stationed in a single prefecture. This was mainly because Liu Chengzong had sent him there to conquer Hanzhong.

But now that the conquest had been easy, the problem was that Hanzhong Prefecture's tax revenue was insufficient to support the grain supply for these twelve thousand garrison troops.

Even if Hanzhong Prefecture retained nothing for itself, did not develop, and did not repair anything, the paltry amount of grain tax and commuted silver it collected could not sustain an army of this size.

What was this matter to Liu Chengzong? No grain? Then transfer two battalions back to Xi'an Prefecture to be fed.

Compared to this, Liu the Lion was far more concerned with the gazetteers of the entire Marshal's headquarters. So he simply wrote a letter himself to his father in Xi'an Prefecture.

He proposed that each county under the Grand Marshal's headquarters inspect its population and land, each draw a map, compile them into records and submit them to their respective prefectures, and that each prefecture then compile these into a gazetteer and submit it to Xi'an.

In this way, the population, land, and able-bodied males under the Marshal's headquarters would be clear at a glance, and the central offices would have a firm grasp of the tax revenues of each locality.

Most crucially, Liu the Lion himself would have a firm grasp.

He too wanted to know exactly how much arable land, how many people, and how many troops he had under his command.

Relying on this land and population, and levying normal taxes, could he afford to support his massively structured army?

Of course, most importantly, he had to reassure his parents in the family letter that he was safe, that the expedition to the Xing'an Range had been an easy victory, that he had endured wind and sun on the road but had eaten well, had not grown thin, and had even gained a little weight.

Thanks to the Later Jin, he was bringing back quite a few Liaodong specialties — several thousand gold bars, and even more wild Liaodong ginseng.

Soon, a family letter was written and dispatched via the relay stations by a Feathered Forest Guard.

Liu Chengzong clutched Jiang Yingchang's letter, his eyes reflecting the burning gate tower of Yulin City, brimming with satisfaction.

He knew it was time to transform the Marshal's headquarters into a proper regime.

Good afternoon!