Chapter 936: Chaos Sweeps Southern Shandong

After Zhao Jin broke Cloud Mountain Monastery, like a small fish devouring a larger one, he swiftly seized control of the monastery's vast holdings. It was also because of this that the abbot and the overseer's faction had already lost the people's support—everyone else was only too eager to see them fall and cooperated fully with Zhao Jin. Once the original abbot's faction was purged and swept away, those taking power and handling affairs naturally had to be replaced with new people. But there were only so many positions; many old monks from other factions were waiting to take up duties, and the junior disciples beneath them had even slimmer chances of getting their turn.

There was another point besides: Zhao Jin would not allow the monks of Cloud Mountain Monastery to keep holding every post either. That would be no different from having broken the monastery for someone else's benefit. So all the monastery's estates and properties were transferred to the names of the Zhao Battalion and the Cloud Mountain Trading Company. Those willing to continue working had to renounce their monastic vows, and after doing so, they were often reassigned to positions outside the monastery's former holdings. Although the monks showed little hesitation in returning to lay life, for those young Cloud Mountain disciples waiting to take up posts, the positions grew even fewer, and their chances of rising even slimmer.

Moreover, within the Zhao Battalion itself, this Cloud Mountain Monastery faction held roughly the same status as the Shandong Smelling Incense Sect—effectively a former enemy state, one to be guarded against. Even Ru Hui thought so. In years past, the monks of Cloud Mountain Monastery had thrown their weight around across all of Xuzhou, doing whatever they pleased. Now that they had been cast down into the dust, heaven only knew whether anyone beyond the abbot's faction harbored resentment. For that reason, they could not be used in the Zhao Battalion's household retinue or militia units, nor could they be placed in the foundation territories like the refugee villages and stockades. The only place they could work was the Cloud Mountain Trading Company line. Ru Hui still had to look after them to some degree, and the business of trade was, after all, somewhat less critical.

The positions within the Cloud Mountain Trading Company were also limited. Leaving aside the fact that not everyone was cut out for business, the operations at the various Cloud Mountain branch shops were not something they could handle either. It was still a case of too many monks and too little gruel. Most of them were local-born and raised, reluctant to abandon such a promising situation in Xuzhou, so they could only endure and wait within the monastery, or first find some livelihood to get by. Their sort was also different from scholars, gentry, or military households: their only path upward lay within the Zhao Battalion. No other place compared to this one. So Ru Hui constantly had to placate his martial uncles and martial brothers, senior and junior fellow disciples and nephews from Cloud Mountain Monastery—all of them asking him to put in a good word.

These people held value for the Zhao Battalion, and after all these years, old grudges had long since scattered like smoke. What remained was the search for a way out and a future. However, Zhao Jin would not take the initiative to speak; he waited all along for Ru Hui to broach it.

After a brief moment of recollection, Zhao Jin suddenly grasped a key point. He slapped his forehead and said with a smile, "Brother Cao, when you earlier proposed keeping household retinues and militia as a garrison, were you thinking of bringing in Cloud Mountain Monastery disciples to have them check and balance one another?"

Ru Hui started, an embarrassed expression surfacing on his face. He had clearly been seen through by Zhao Jin. Some things could not be stated too plainly. Placing Cloud Mountain Monastery disciples in to mix sand—making the factions and power blocs more complex so that no irregular moves were possible—was a matter that could only be hinted at. If it were spoken aloud and somehow got out, that would mean trouble.

Having been called out by Zhao Jin, Ru Hui was embarrassed for only a moment before he recovered. With the utmost gravity, he cupped his hands and bowed, saying, "My lord, there are no disciples of Cloud Mountain Monastery—only disciples of Cloud Mountain. Like the common people and households of the one prefecture and four counties, they are all your people and households, my lord."

Zhao Jin smiled and nodded. He would not speak too plainly on this subject either. Besides, Ru Hui's phrasing of "Cloud Mountain disciples" suited his own thinking quite well. After pondering for a moment, Zhao Jin spoke: "Those who serve loyally and have ability—we'll take as many as come. The Cloud Mountain Trading Company, the various estates and properties under us—so long as they are suited, they can go work there. But on one point: they start from the very bottom. Only if they do well and earn merit can they be promoted. There's no reason for them to walk into good positions the moment they arrive."

"Rest assured, my lord. That you grant them a way forward is already an immense kindness. This subordinate will never play favorites. Everything will depend on their own ability." Ru Hui knew Zhao Jin was reminding him and quickly answered with solemn respect.

After saying this, Ru Hui ventured again, "My lord, within and around Cloud Mountain Monastery, there are also quite a few disciples with a rough grasp of fist and foot. Although they studied martial arts, they never joined the monk-soldiers, nor did they follow along in committing outrages."

That was how it was phrased, but in truth everyone understood perfectly well: "never followed along in committing outrages" really meant they hadn't had the chance yet. Yet it was precisely because of this that there were no real grudges either.

"They may serve as militia. Those with outstanding martial skill may try for patrolman." Zhao Jin's reply was very brief, but for Ru Hui it was more than enough. He thanked him again with great gravity.

Zhao Jin glanced at Wang Zhaojing beside him, then spoke: "You mustn't fixate only on how brave the household retinues and militia are, how they fight at the front. Without provisions and supplies, without weapons, armor, and clothing, victory is impossible. This time, the most critical element is actually you. It's not a question of how far the Zhao Battalion can fight, but how far the grain and supplies can reach. So long as you can get there, the household troops can get there."

Wang Zhaojing and Ru Hui exchanged a look, then both rose and bowed. Wang Zhaojing added, "Rest assured, elder brother. Wherever the household troops go, the grain and supplies will follow. There will not be a moment's delay."

The topic was exhausted, and they were just about to take their leave when the sound of hurried footsteps came from outside. Sun Dalin's voice rang out again in announcement: "My lord, an urgent report has come from Shandong. Wang Ziyang says he has a critical matter and requests an audience."

"Bring the urgent report in first. Have Wang Ziyang wait." By now, Wang Ziyang had long since lost the standing he once held.

In the last days of the fourth month and the first days of the fifth, in the second year of the Tianqi reign, Shandong fell into great chaos. The grain canal was severed, and the capital was shaken.

When the refugees and disaster victims first began to move, the officials of Shandong's six prefectures paid no heed. The local strongmen likewise felt it was no different from any past year of famine and disaster.

Toward such an outflow, the landlords and gentry who had not been fundamentally harmed by the earthquake even felt a touch of secret delight. The people left, the land remained, and their own estates could expand. Once the harvests improved, the benefits would naturally roll in. As for the refugees going elsewhere and bringing calamity to neighboring counties and prefectures—that was someone else's misfortune; what did it have to do with them? Everyone treated their neighbor as a flood drain. That was how it had been for countless years.

When the small bands of refugees merged into large bands, and the large bands merged into a torrent, everyone from top to bottom began to panic. Yet some still clung to wishful thinking, telling themselves that the refugees were merely plundering the countryside as they made their way toward peaceful regions untouched by disaster. So long as one stayed within the city walls, one would be safe and sound. What happened outside the walls did not need too much attention.

In Dongchang Prefecture, Jinan Prefecture, Qingzhou Prefecture, and the more distant Laizhou and Dengzhou Prefectures, the refugees did indeed behave just as everyone had predicted beforehand—just like the refugees of the past. They merely plundered villages and stockaded hamlets, making their way steadily south toward richer, warmer lands, and did not linger long beneath city walls or even the tougher fortified stockades.

But after they entered Yanzhou Prefecture and converged into a great mass, the momentum suddenly changed. Dong'e County, Dongping Subprefecture, Wenshang County, Ningyang County, and Sishui County all came under siege.

Under normal circumstances, how could barehanded refugees possibly breach strong walls? The only method was to besiege. But before the grain inside the city ran out, the besiegers outside would already be reduced to cannibalism—even less possible. Yet in this year, the counties of eastern Yanzhou Prefecture were precisely the hardest-hit areas of the earthquake. The once towering and sturdy city walls had been shattered and collapsed by the quake. In the years since, every place had been so destitute that they could not scrape together the materials for repairs. They could only make do and wait until the autumn grain and autumn tax season, when their hands might be a little looser.

No one imagined that this commonplace bit of muddling through would brew a great calamity. When the vast tide of refugees surged forward, those temporary walls thrown together from rammed earth and rubble could not withstand any charge driven by desperate resolve.

The refugees were starving and despairing, weak and powerless, and utterly disorganized. No matter how ramshackle a county or subprefecture seat might be, it could still muster enough able-bodied commoners and militia to defend the walls. Those men at least had weapons and iron tools in hand, and could eat their fill and have strength—surely better than the dying, starving wretches outside.

But the commoner levies and militia were, after all, civilian youths. Even the government troops and runners were useless cowards. On the defensive, they could grit their teeth and hold on, but if the other side charged forward heedless of life or death, then they could not withstand it. And at Dong'e County, Dongping Subprefecture, and Wenshang County, the refugees were precisely organized and driven, forcing their way through the breaches in the walls and breaking the defense…

Gaunt, emaciated famine victims stumbled and staggered as they filled in the moats, piled up earthen ramps, then raised crude scaling ladders. Gripping wooden clubs or even barehanded, they clambered upward. Some fell straight into the moat and were buried alive by the earth bundles that followed. Some, unable to hold on while scaling the wall, simply toppled from the ladders. Sometimes the crude ladders themselves could not bear the weight of so many climbers and collapsed outright, sending the refugees on them plunging down—dead or crippled from the fall. No one paid them any heed. The ladders were simply set up again and the charge resumed.

From the battlements, scalding water and boiling filth poured down. Logs and stone blocks came crashing. Those who reached the top were cut and stabbed by blades. Heads split and bled, flesh festered and rotted, limbs were hacked off. The corpses below the wall piled up without cease, yet still the refugees charged on relentlessly.

Under the pressure of such an assault, the city's defense simply could not hold. The defending soldiers and village braves would very quickly collapse and scatter.

In truth, such a desperate death-charge assault on a city could only be mounted two or three times at most. But after the city garrison had gritted its teeth and withstood the first wave, the moment they saw the refugees actually organize a second wave, their hearts immediately failed and their courage died. All they could think of was fleeing for their lives. On the first day Dong'e County fell, there were commoner levies who escaped and spread word that they had seen someone driving the refugees forward from behind. But by the time this news spread, the land was already in utter chaos, and it was very quickly swallowed up without a trace.

No one had imagined the refugees would suddenly besiege cities, so the mustering of defenders inside was often done in great haste. No one had imagined the refugees could mount a desperate death-charge, so the forces within, who had thought they could easily beat back the attackers, very quickly lost all morale. Most critically, the city walls were damaged. The defense that should have been impregnable to refugees now had breaches of its own. So long as enough force was applied against those breaches, success could often be achieved. What was more, the breaches were often more than one. What was more, there were collaborators inside the city.

The magistrate of Dong'e County died for his city. The subprefect of Dongping was lost amid the rebel troops, his fate unknown. The magistrate of Wenshang County died fighting atop the city wall. The news was urgently reported to the prefectural seat of Yanzhou at Ziyang, urgently reported to the provincial seat of Jinan, urgently reported to the capital. This was already outright rebellion and great chaos.

As for Ningyang and Sishui, whose city walls had suffered little damage, they had originally been under strict martial law, their gates tightly shut. No one expected that internal chaos would break out first. Someone inside forcibly opened the city gates, and the refugees, who had long been prepared, simply surged in.

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