Chapter 312: Night Talk

One-third of the men would stand watch, one-third would rest, and the remaining third, while resting, would keep their armor on.

Zhao Jin took the first watch. The household guards rotated on a strict schedule, but for Zhao Jin and his companions, whoever felt like sleeping would simply go wake the person on the second watch.

Wang Zhaojing did not return to the city but stayed with everyone else. When arranging the watch rotation, Wang Zhaojing voluntarily placed himself in the second slot. That day had seen fierce battle outside the city and bloody slaughter within its walls, and Wang Zhaojing had charged at the very front. After eating his fill and lying down, exhaustion and drowsiness surged over him at once, and he sank into a deep sleep. The others were the same — several of them snored loud enough to shake the heavens, yet no one was woken by it.

No one knew how long they had slept when Wang Zhaojing opened his eyes, fully awake. He sat bolt upright, thinking he must have overslept. He rose and looked around, and saw Zhao Jin sitting on a large cart not far away, seemingly lost in thought.

Wang Zhaojing rubbed his face with both hands a few times, then stood and walked over. The night was deep and all was still. From the outskirts came the occasional faint howl, and the sound of weeping, barely there. Between the city wall and the camp, he could make out wild beasts — whether wild dogs or wolves, he could not tell. The battlefield was soaked with blood and flesh, and the drifting scent of gore had drawn them here.

It was rare to see Zhao Jin so deeply absorbed in thought. He did not even notice when Wang Zhaojing walked up behind him. "... elite soldiers..."

Wang Zhaojing accidentally stepped on a stone. The sound startled Zhao Jin, who lunged forward abruptly, rolled across the cart, and when he turned back, a short blade was already in his hand, poised to thrust.

Seeing it was Wang Zhaojing, Zhao Jin gave a rueful smile and shook his head. "The night is deep and still — you gave me quite a fright."

"Brother Zhao, how long have you been on watch? I accidentally overslept. Go and rest quickly; let me take over keeping watch!" Wang Zhaojing said hurriedly.

Zhao Jin sheathed his blade and sat back down on the cart. He patted the cart bed beside him, motioning for Wang Zhaojing to sit, and said with a smile, "It's nothing. I can't sleep. You all sleep a little longer."

"Brother Zhao, those 'elite soldiers' you mentioned just now — were they the crack troops of Qin during the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods?" Wang Zhaojing asked.

Zhao Jin froze. He hesitated a moment, then coughed and said with a smile, "Exactly."

But as he gave this answer, his expression was very unnatural. Wang Zhaojing was well-versed in reading people, and seeing this reaction, he naturally did not press further.

The reason Zhao Jin was so ill at ease was that he had been recalling the contents of that booklet. What he had actually been murmuring was "Switzerland."

On the battlefields of this era, for an infantry square formation to survive and prevail, discipline, training, and courage went without saying — but it also needed the cover and killing power of ranged fire.

The Spanish tercio was the finest battle formation of this age. Its pikemen on the battlefield primarily served as a screen for the musketeers. An enemy charge would be mauled and weakened by musket fire, and by the time they closed in, the pike square became a fortress and fortification. The musketeers would skirmish around the square, and more often than not, musket fire alone was enough to defeat and rout the enemy.

Moreover, beyond the square's own musketeers, a standard Spanish infantry regiment would also carry several field cannons — a nightmare for enemy infantry and cavalry alike.

As for muskets and cannons, Zhao Jin currently had no clue where to begin. He knew the Spanish infantry tercio was formidable, but he had no way to imitate it. To say nothing else, he simply did not have the numbers right now. One had to understand that a Spanish infantry pike square, just the pike block alone, numbered anywhere from eight hundred to twelve hundred men.

What Zhao Jin had always been thinking of and trying to emulate was the slightly earlier Swiss infantry square. Yet even the Swiss square had crossbowmen and musketeers, and some wealthier regiments were also equipped with light artillery. Furthermore, on the perimeter of the Swiss square, there were small squads of veterans armed with long halberds, short axes, and bows and crossbows, roaming around the square to block and harass the enemy's first wave of attack, and also to probe and test for weak points in the enemy formation.

Beyond all this, the interior of the Swiss infantry square did not use long spears, but rather halberds slightly shorter than spears. This weapon could chop, hack, smash, and hook. Veterans could use it for individual combat, and in a melee they would not be at the slightest disadvantage.

Zhao Jin knew that the success of the Swiss square also had its reasons. The Swiss were poor, and the common folk of the various village communities drilled in formation marching as their daily recreation. Combined with the mountain folk's innate toughness and valor, over time they became a crack force with seamless coordination and strict discipline.

His own Zhao Camp, however, lacked these conditions. The reason it had yet to suffer any defeats was simply because of its ample training, superior equipment, formation and discipline, and coordination. Relying on these assets was enough to dominate Xuzhou, but Xuzhou was only one corner of the realm. This time it was only refugees from Shandong who came; who knew what powerful foes they might encounter in the future.

They had to improve. They had to grow stronger. Otherwise, never mind leaving a name in the histories — whether they could even survive and protect themselves, their families, and their brothers was far from certain.

Wang Zhaojing had asked one question and then said no more. Zhao Jin sank into his own thoughts, and only when he had made up his mind did he remember someone was beside him. He smiled and said, "I was lost in thought and completely forgot you were here."

In truth, Wang Zhaojing had also been staring blankly into space. Only when Zhao Jin spoke did he come back to himself. Shaking his head, he smiled and said, "We're family — no need for such courtesies."

"The provincial exam is in the eighth month. You should leave for Nanjing earlier. After all this hacking and slashing in Xuzhou, all these experiences — disturbing your peace of mind is no good thing," Zhao Jin said.

For a scholar taking the civil examinations, especially a major exam like the provincial exam, it was common to set out for the provincial capital or the two capitals several months in advance — even half a year or a full year ahead was not unusual. First, the journey was long and travel was difficult; the road took time. Second, people ordinarily never left their native soil, and going to a strange place all at once required an adjustment period; if they fell ill from the unfamiliar climate, it could ruin everything. Third, they needed to socialize and build connections with their examination cohort — this was a rare and valuable network. Fourth, they needed to work their connections; in an exam of this magnitude, having someone on the official side looking out for you was always a good thing.

Hearing this, Wang Zhaojing was silent for a moment, then said, "I have traveled quite a bit and been to many places. Nanjing is not somewhere I've only been once. There's really no need to go rushing about early. Success in the examination hall depends on the effort you put in day to day. Going early doesn't necessarily bring any advantage..."

His tone carried a hint of bewilderment. He paused, then continued, "In that slaughter inside and outside the barbican today, I couldn't remember a single line of the classics or essays. All I did was thrust and hack with my sword. All those sage principles, the great righteousness in the books, the foundations of moral conduct — at that moment, none of it mattered. Only the weapon in my hand was trustworthy."

Zhao Jin smiled. He stood up on the cart and looked around in all directions. Everywhere was utterly quiet. Standing there, he said, "In times like these, studying and becoming an official is indeed the proper path. The Xuzhou region has always been chaotic, and this time, who knows what people were behind those refugees stirring up all this slaughter. Other places will be very peaceful. Our Xuzhou will be very peaceful too."

"... I'm afraid it won't be..." Wang Zhaojing was silent again for a moment before speaking slowly.

"My father says the Three Great Campaigns exhausted the court's elite generals and crack troops, and in all these years there has been not the slightest replenishment. The Single Whip Law has drained the people's strength and wealth, yet the government and central authorities have reaped no benefit. The powerful merchants and local magnates grow ever larger, colluding with officials and scholars, intertwined like tangled roots, beyond anyone's control. His Majesty is weary of governance, the various factions attack one another, and malign forces within and without stir restlessly. This world looks peaceful, but in truth it is riddled with gaping holes. The realm is about to descend into chaos." Wang Zhaojing's voice was low, but Zhao Jin felt a chill run down his back as he listened.

"Brother Zhao, when the realm is in chaos, what use are the Four Books and Five Classics? In the end, you have to rely on the weapon in your hand. Isn't that exactly what you've been preparing for?" Wang Zhaojing's voice suddenly rose a little.

As Wang Zhaojing recounted his father's analysis, Zhao Jin also found it very convincing. Though the Three Great Campaigns had been great victories, the crack troops and elite generals trained by Qi Jiguang, Yu Dayou, and Li Chengliang had suffered enormous losses. And with no wars to follow, with the realm at peace, who in the Grand Secretariat and the central government would spare a thought for the military? Everyone was thinking about how to cut costs and disband units. Replenishment and strengthening were out of the question.

As for the Single Whip Law, collecting silver and grain, the common people's burdens grew ever heavier, and they went bankrupt one after another. Meanwhile, the powerful merchants and local magnates, amid the bankruptcies of the peasants and farming households, swallowed up land on a massive scale and amassed enormous fortunes. Yet most of them had the means and the status to evade taxes. The government could not get the slightest advantage from them, and so could only shift the extra burden onto those peasants who had not yet gone bankrupt — and so the vicious cycle continued.

As for the so-called mutual attacks among the various factions and His Majesty's weariness of governance, Zhao Jin had heard Wang Zhaojing speak of this many times. The Wanli Emperor had not held court for nearly twenty years. Many positions at court sat vacant. For key central posts like Grand Secretaries, Ministers, and Vice Ministers, it was common for people to resign and return to their hometowns on their own, leaving the positions hanging empty. Meanwhile, the other officials divided into factions, attacking one another, asking not what was right or wrong, but only what faction one belonged to — the so-called "agreeing with one's own faction and attacking those who differ."

It was indeed riddled with gaping holes. As for the realm being about to descend into chaos, Zhao Jin was less able to judge. He had no memory of this. He thought for a moment, then smiled and said, "Since the founding of the Great Ming, there was the Yongle Emperor's Jingnan Campaign, fighting all the way from Shandong down to Nanjing. Then there was the Buddhist Mother Tang Sai'er, who rebelled in Shandong. Then the Prince of Han's rebellion... then Liu Liu and Liu Qi's White-Clad Rebels. If you count them up like this, this time's refugee attack on Xuzhou doesn't seem like much. Here in Xuzhou, we get a military disaster every few years."

Xuzhou esteemed martial valor, and the Zhao family were of military household origin from the guard post, so they were naturally thoroughly familiar with these events. Zhao Jin's second uncle, Zhao Zhenxing, had told him about them many times.

"... Back then, Altan Khan nearly fought his way through the entire north. At the same time, the southeast was plagued by Japanese pirates. On one side we were taking a beating, on the other we couldn't collect any taxes — and we still made it through to today..." Zhao Jin said with a smile.

During the Jiajing reign, the Altan Khan's tribe near the Ordos Loop rose to power, driving the line of the Golden Horde eastward and the Uriankhai tribe to the northern deserts, making himself hegemon of the steppe. Meanwhile, because Yang Tinghe had comprehensively reversed the policies of the Zhengde Emperor, the Ming court's military was thrown into utter chaos. The steppe gained an absolute advantage over the Ming, and several times they breached the passes and rode in as if entering unoccupied territory, threatening the capital more than once. As if that were not bad enough, at the same time Japanese pirates ran rampant in the southeast, and the Southern Metropolitan Region and Zhejiang — the Ming's crucial tax heartland — were ravaged by them, suffering catastrophic losses.

To resist Altan Khan, money had to be spent to train troops, but the taxes could not be collected, so naturally the troops could not be trained well. To say the Ming stood on the brink of collapse and destruction back then would not have been an exaggeration. Yet they still managed to pull through.