Chapter 1648: Still Keeping Up Appearances

After the Great Han army's cavalry easily broke through the battle lines of the Shimabara Domain rebels, the entire army began advancing along the path the cavalry had opened. Because the cavalry had already plowed through like an iron plow, these domain troops did not encounter the same fierce resistance as before and pushed straight into the Shimabara Domain, reaching the walls of the domain castle.

Along the way, they saw corpses strewn everywhere — the results of the cavalry's pursuit of the routed enemy. These Catholics had all been peasants before; although a small number were ronin, the vast majority had never undergone any military training and had only gathered together out of bone-deep hatred to resist brutal rule.

This fury could rouse their morale, giving them the courage to fight the allied forces of the various domains and stalemate those domain troops whose combat skills and fighting spirit were equally poor. But when the Great Han army, superior to them in every respect, came to face them in person, even with morale that made them fearless of death, they still had no way to resist.

The human spirit ultimately has its limits. When they encountered an opponent they could not resist, their courage slowly faded, and the deeply buried instinct for survival took over. Everyone fled in despair, utterly oblivious to the fact that such flight actually left them even more defenseless against the cavalry.

Not disappointing Zhou Pu and the others, the Great Han army faithfully carried out the plan devised by the staff officers. After pursuing all the way to the castle walls, the cavalry did not linger in battle but slowly regrouped their units, reformed ranks, and returned to the main army's formation.

Both they and their warhorses were drenched in blood; their originally bright uniforms had turned dark red and were spattered with mud. Yet their spirits were extremely high, because they had finally caught up and made it in time for the closing act of the Kyushu conquest campaign, earning themselves some merit.

Although this was already the final small-scale combat, and although these Catholics could not compare to the enemies the infantry had faced before, they had still earned a measure of merit in the end.

And when they returned to camp, what greeted them were the gazes of the allied domain soldiers, filled with both fear and reverence. When these domain troops saw the Great Han army sweep away the enemy — whom they themselves had been powerless to defeat — like a fierce gale stripping leaves from a tree, nearly every one of them felt their hearts fill with dread toward Great Han.

The Japanese have always feared and submitted to the strong; moreover, these domain soldiers had little sense of national consciousness to begin with. So when Great Han displayed its might, they became sincerely convinced and willingly submissive, taking it as a matter of course that they should attach themselves to Great Han and march alongside them.

The domain lords were the same. After Great Han once again demonstrated its overwhelming military power before their eyes, the shogun's threats in Nagasaki became even more potent. One after another, they displayed their loyalty and courage before Zhou Pu, terrified that a single displeasure from him might bring Great Han's punishment down upon them.

Zhou Pu was happy to exploit their fear, further reorganizing the army, strengthening his control over this force, and molding these domain troops into something slightly more cohesive rather than a loose sheet of sand where everyone fought on their own.

Urged on deliberately by the various domain lords, the domain army, now encountering little resistance, advanced relentlessly. Any Catholics they met along the way were simply slaughtered, their methods exceedingly cruel. They all harbored deep hatred for Catholicism, and the earlier resistance of the Catholics had also stirred up their ferocity, so they struck with exceptional brutality.

Under the iron hooves of the great army, wails of misery filled the air throughout the Shimabara Domain; everywhere lay ruined villages and ground littered with corpses.

Zhou Pu had not initially intended to stop their cruel actions. To him, these Catholics were nothing more than enemies, not worth any pity. As long as the soldiers under his command fulfilled their military orders, a few excesses did not matter. But soon, amid the slaughter, the army began showing signs of growing loose and scattered among the various villages. Therefore, to maintain military discipline, he had no choice but to order the domain troops below to refrain from indiscriminate killing.

Only after reaching the walls of Shimabara Castle did this army halt its advance, waiting for the final assault. Inside this domain castle, a great number of Catholics were now gathered — all of them having fled in rout from various places. Knowing full well that there was nowhere left to retreat and that no one would grant them forgiveness, they had all resolved themselves to die, prepared to use their last breaths to suffer martyrdom for the Lord.

Shimabara Castle had been painstakingly built over two generations by Matsukura Shigemasa and his son Matsukura Katsuie. Matsukura Shigemasa was also a renowned castle-building expert of the Warring States period. Under their decades of no-expense-spared management, the domain castle had been constructed to be extremely sturdy, with formidable defensive capabilities.

By conventional reasoning, the best way to attack such a castle was to besiege it, using hunger as an ally to wear down the enemy forces within. However, the Great Han army did not have that much time now, nor did they intend to slowly starve them out, so they decided to attack as quickly as possible.

However, according to the plan devised by Huang Changguo and the other staff officers, in order to avoid casualties, the Great Han army would not directly participate in the assault on the domain castle. They would only provide auxiliary support with artillery, and the navy would also be dispatched to provide support. The ones truly shouldering the duty of storming the castle were still those domain troops. Although the siege would result in considerable casualties, Zhou Pu and his staff officers did not care.

After a day or two of waiting, the Great Han army's heavy artillery was pulled up to the front lines, and on the sea beyond Shimabara Castle, the blurred silhouettes of some Great Han naval warships appeared indistinctly within the gray sea mist.

These domain troops were also below the castle walls, rubbing their hands in eager anticipation, waiting for the chance to prove themselves before the Great Han Imperial Envoy. With the support of Great Han's cannons and warships, not a single person doubted that Shimabara Castle would soon fall to them. They also needed the blood of these Catholics to wash away their previous disgrace and win back their standing in the eyes of the Great Han general.

Zhou Pu had spent these past few days inspecting the troops everywhere, receiving an enthusiastic welcome at every stop. In this way, he was also subtly and imperceptibly establishing his own authority, preparing for the coming campaign northward to Kyoto.

And at his side, besides the Great Han staff officers and the various domain lords, there was also a group of special figures.

These men wore monastic robes, their heads completely shaven — they were unmistakably Buddhist monks.

And they were no ordinary monks. They were the abbots of various Buddhist temples across Kyushu Island, specially summoned here by Zhou Pu to boost the morale of the domain troops. It was precisely because of the encouragement of these monks that the domain troops had become exceptionally brutal in their slaughter everywhere.

Logically speaking, given the Shimabara Domain's utterly cruel oppression, a revolt breaking out within its borders should have been an ordinary matter. But what would otherwise have been an ordinary revolt and suppression was, because of the rebels' Catholic identity, cloaked in the colors of a religious war.

Japanese Buddhism is divided into many sects, and over the course of a thousand years of transmission, many sects have further split into numerous smaller sub-sects. These multifarious temples then began fighting amongst themselves, competing for followers and resources.

Among the temples of Kyushu Island, the Shingon sect held a very important position. Tocho-ji in Fukuoka was the head Shingon temple in Kyushu, with the mountain name Nangakuzan, and it also housed the largest wooden Buddha statue in all of Japan. Consequently, its abbot, Master Faxing, had implicitly become the most prominent figure among these monks, highly respected by the other Shingon temples.

However, outside the gates of the Shingon sect, he was not so respected. In particular, Sofuku-ji — located in Fukuoka near Nagasaki and belonging to the Rinzai school of Zen — as well as Kofuku-ji, also located in Nagasaki, had, due to their geographical advantages, been the first to make contact with the Great Han army. Both prided themselves on being the earliest and most authentic Chinese-founded temples in Japan, so the abbots of both temples were only superficially cordial with Faxing while inwardly at odds, each single-mindedly seeking to win more benefits for their own temple before the Great Han Imperial Envoy.

Zhou Pu had once diligently studied for the imperial examinations and, having received instruction at a private academy, could more or less be considered a man of letters. However, when it came to religion and Buddhist doctrine, he was basically completely ignorant, having only casually skimmed a few sutras for amusement. Yet when he conversed with these abbots, they all deliberately flattered him; every offhand remark he made was treated as an exposition of profound subtlety, practically elevating Zhou Pu into a great literary master and eminent lay Buddhist thoroughly versed in the Dharma.

Over its thousand-year transmission, Buddhism had always sought every possible way to take the path of courting the upper classes, racking its brains to ingratiate itself with the powerful, thereby seeking their protection and patronage. This was so in China, and it was the same in Japan — the upper-echelon monks were all highly adept at this art.

It must be said that under their deliberate flattery, even knowing full well that their words were insincere, Zhou Pu could not help but feel somewhat lightheaded and carried away, and he treated these monks with greater respect.

And these monks, in so fervently currying favor with Zhou Pu, actually had ulterior motives.

They were all abbots of temples and shrines; in their hearts, there was little sense of national righteousness. What they considered more was the continuation and flourishing of their own temples, hoping to prevent their temples from being consumed by the flames of war. Today, with the Great Han army advancing triumphantly everywhere, they all believed that the shogunate's defeat in Kyushu was a foregone conclusion, and that from now on, people like themselves would have to rely on the whims of Great Han and absolutely must not display any hint of antipathy toward them.

As the envoy dispatched by Great Han, Zhou Pu naturally deserved their fawning; they all hoped to obtain some benefits from this Great Han envoy's hands.

During the past Heian period and the Warring States period, the power of Buddhist temples had been immense, possessing colossal wealth and vast lands. But from the late Warring States period onward, local lords everywhere began seizing temple lands and wealth. By the time the Tokugawa shogunate was established, the power of temples and shrines was subjected to even stricter limitations.

These abbots all hoped to obtain some benefits from the Great Han envoy and recover some of their vitality.

At the same time, they were also extremely satisfied with Great Han taking the lead in suppressing the Catholics.

As leaders of Buddhist temples, whether out of doctrinal motives or out of hatred for having their followers poached, they all loathed the spread of Catholicism on Kyushu Island to the marrow of their bones and were single-mindedly determined to use this momentum to eradicate Catholicism's influence. It was precisely because of their demands and encouragement that the various Kyushu domain lords' methods of suppressing Catholics had become exceptionally cruel.

After the Great Han invasion, the ruling order of the various domains suddenly fell into chaos, and the Catholics within each domain seized the gap to stir up trouble. Because there were so many Catholics still remaining, for a time, it even showed signs of a single spark threatening to start a prairie fire.

These signs also triggered widespread fear among them — even more than the Great Han invasion, what they feared was the Catholics gaining power in Kyushu. After all, if Great Han attacked, they would still have a place to shelter; but if the Catholics gained power, they would have no burial ground for their corpses.

They were deathly afraid that Great Han might exploit these Catholics' anti-shogunate sentiment and use them as an auxiliary force.

But in the face of the Catholic uprising, Great Han quickly demonstrated a firm attitude of suppression and immediately ordered the various domain lords who had submitted to Great Han to carry out the crackdown. This allowed these abbots to breathe a sigh of relief, and at the same time made them even more supportive of Great Han.

Although the fighting had been plagued by setbacks due to the feebleness of the domain troops, with the addition of the Great Han army, the Catholic uprisings everywhere began to be curbed — vanishing like accumulated snow meeting blazing sunlight, melting away and scattering like clouds.

Though the word 'compassion' was ever on their lips, these abbots showed no leniency whatsoever toward the Catholics. They repeatedly told those domain troops that these Catholics were all demonic obstructions of karma, that only by treating them in the cruelest manner could they win the Buddha's favor and better ensure their own rebirth in the Pure Land, and that if they showed soft-hearted mercy, they would surely fall into Avici Hell in the future.

The more brutal the domain troops' suppression, the better it was in their eyes.

"Gentlemen, these Catholics now have no refuge left apart from this castle." Standing below Shimabara Castle, Zhou Pu spoke, half as a boast, half as a reminder. "Ah, I never imagined these Catholics would be so stubbornly obstinate. Had the Great Han army not personally taken the field, who knows how long they would have kept running amok!"

He was hinting to these abbots that only Great Han could eradicate Catholicism's influence on Kyushu Island.

"These rebels have believed in the evil cult of the southern barbarians and have long since become karmic obstructions, running rampant by relying on demonic force. It is only fortunate that the celestial might of Great Han has prevented Kyushu from being plunged into misery and devastation." Before anyone else could speak, Master Faxing, the abbot of Tocho-ji, seized the conversation. "Without Great Han, who knows how much longer these obstructions would have continued their rampage, how many more innocent lives would have been harmed! This humble monk, on behalf of the myriad people of Kyushu, expresses gratitude for the great kindness of the Celestial Dynasty!"

"Our Great Han and Japan share the same roots and branches, jointly revering the Buddha-Dharma. To reject evil cults and safeguard the Buddha-Dharma is what we ought to do. Why should the abbot speak of thanks?" Zhou Pu nodded with a beaming smile, clearly in excellent spirits.

Seeing that he had stolen the spotlight, the others inwardly cursed his words as utterly shameless while simultaneously envying him for being the first to curry favor with the Great Han envoy.

"The Imperial Envoy speaks most truly. These rebels harbor deceit in their hearts, seizing the gap to stir chaos, and are indeed deluded by demonic bewitchment." Master Derong of Kofuku-ji pressed his palms together and chanted a Buddhist invocation. "Seen in this light, heretical paths and heterodox cults are truly terrifying and must be strictly prohibited. The shogunate was previously far too lenient, which is why we have this calamity today! Fortunately, Great Han has set things right and eliminated the evil, preventing these obstructions from running rampant..."

In truth, these Catholics' violent revolt was more a result of the brutal exploitation by the shogunate and the various domains; it was more about resisting exploitation than defending their faith. Moreover, the shogunate's attitude toward Catholics had already been extremely severe — it had issued bans on Christianity several times and slaughtered many Catholics. But now that Great Han held power, disparaging the shogunate and extolling Great Han was naturally a necessity.

"Although our Buddha is compassionate, he also has wrathful vajra guardians. Toward the multitude of sentient beings, we must be compassionate, but toward these demonic obstructions, we must eradicate them root and branch, and must never show mercy. This humble monk sincerely beseeches the Imperial Envoy, after breaching Shimabara Castle, to purge these obstructions completely." The abbot of Sofuku-ji also immediately pressed his palms together in salutation and took up the thread. "As the saying goes, topple the nest without leaving a single egg intact. If these obstructions are left alive, they will surely stir up chaos again in the future. Rarely do we have such a good opportunity today — we absolutely must not let them escape again!"

After he finished speaking, the abbots of the other temples immediately voiced their agreement one after another. Amid this group of monks whose faces were full of compassion, the usual serenity they displayed when expounding the Dharma was nowhere to be seen; instead, there was a palpable murderous intensity.

So they want me to order the massacre of the city?

These monks, with compassion forever on their lips, were relentlessly goading him to order a city-wide slaughter. Where was even a shred of the mercy befitting an enlightened eminent monk? It seemed that after the Buddha-Dharma had been transmitted to Japan, it had become rather strange. Toward these monks, one must absolutely not let down one's guard. Zhou Pu thought to himself.

The Great Han army fought ferociously, sweeping the borderlands and purging barbarians in all directions, but they had never committed the act of massacring a city and slaughtering every last elder, child, and woman. Zhou Pu privately reckoned that although he was an envoy of the Celestial Dynasty, he could not set such a precedent. Otherwise, when word eventually reached the imperial court, it would damage his own reputation.

However, with the domain troops and monks in such a fervent uproar, Zhou Pu felt that if he made no gesture at all, it would probably be difficult to placate their hearts.

"These rebels, devoutly believing in an evil cult and gathering a mob to stir chaos, are truly hateful and deserve severe punishment without leniency! After Shimabara Castle is taken, all the chief instigators who spread rumors and incited rebellion, and all the high-ranking members of the cult, shall be put to death without exception, as a warning and a punishment!" In the end, Zhou Pu issued his order. "As for the rest of the rebels, the able-bodied men shall be sent to Nagasaki for penal labor, and the women and children shall all be rewarded to those with meritorious service, to boost the morale of the officers and soldiers!"

Although he was somewhat disappointed that Zhou Pu had not ordered a massacre after the city fell, none of the monks dared question his decision. They merely fawned over him in unison, saying that by rooting out the heretical cult and its rebels he would surely receive the Buddha's blessing, and so on.

Under Zhou Pu's command, the cannons on land and the naval guns at sea roared together. They quickly blasted open the walls of Shimabara Castle, and the domain troops, long since prepared, surged forward in a wave and stormed into the city.

The intense bombardment inflicted heavy casualties and shrouded the entire city in thick smoke.

Harboring no illusions about their fate, the defenders inside the city put up a fierce resistance. Slaughter erupted nearly everywhere, and the fighting grew exceptionally brutal. Corpses and bloodstains were everywhere, and the entire city was practically dyed red.

It was not until nearly the following morning that the slaughter within the city finally subsided, and it fell into the hands of Great Han. Even those surviving residents who had managed to escape the domain troops' massacre now faced a very tragic fate.

It was also here that Zhou Pu issued a general order: from the conquered territory of the Fukuoka Domain, a fief of ten thousand koku was granted to the great temples of Tocho-ji, Sofuku-ji, Kofuku-ji, and others, with every other temple also receiving its own reward, to demonstrate Great Han's reverence for the temples and shrines.

Just then, word reached Zhou Pu that the Japanese imperial house had fled south and issued an imperial edict calling upon all the domains of the realm to rise up and overthrow the shogunate.

"Still putting on airs..." Zhou Pu remarked with a chuckle.