MLMD -Chapter 210 Upheaval in Fengyang

As Yue Yang’s status rose rapidly—backed by power, wealth, and command of substantial troops—more and more scholars who were optimistic about his prospects began, either directly or indirectly, to seek him out. They hoped to obtain some official post or assignment under his command. However, when expressing their intentions, these people were invariably tactful and restrained. Never before had anyone been so blunt and so forthright as to declare, straight to his face, I want to be an official.

Yue Yang was so taken aback by the scholar named Wu Qing that he couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation. Half amused and half annoyed, he said to Wu Qing, “Your name is Wu Qing, right? Someone as direct as you—asking me for an official post the moment we meet—is something I’ve never encountered before. You’re really not being polite at all! Haven’t you read The Doctrine of the Mean?”

Facing Yue Yang’s reproachful yet teasing tone, Wu Qing cupped his hands and replied solemnly, “Of course this student has read The Doctrine of the Mean. However, in this student’s view, the Mean does not mean being mediocre or drifting along with the current. When the Sage composed The Doctrine of the Mean, it was to tell later generations that ‘not leaning to either side is called the Mean; not changing is called Constancy.’ We must diligently cultivate ourselves to reach ultimate goodness, benevolence, sincerity, the Way, virtue, and sagehood—uniting the inner and the outer. Therefore, this student believes that Your Excellency’s interpretation differs from the true meaning.”

“Heh… this kid.” Yue Yang realized he had made a grave mistake—he should never have tried to bandy words with scholars of this era. That was simply asking for punishment. After all, this was their livelihood. Discussing the Four Books and Five Classics with them was as absurd as a middle school student who had just learned linear equations enthusiastically seeking out Hua Luogeng to discuss the Goldbach Conjecture.

Fine—since debating The Doctrine of the Mean was a form of self-torture, Yue Yang decided to drop the topic altogether. He asked Wu Qing bluntly, “Since you’re asking me for an official post, what can you actually do? What position do you want?”

Wu Qing cupped his hands again. “This student is quite interested in agricultural colonies and wishes to serve as Deputy Director of the Civil Administration Office.”

“You want to work in the Civil Administration Office?”

Yue Yang looked at him with interest. In fact, the imperial court had no such post as the Civil Administration Office. It was merely a temporary office Yue Yang had established more than a year earlier. Its responsibilities included resettling refugees, reclaiming wasteland, and distributing seeds, farming tools, and draft cattle to the displaced population.

Its first director was Hai Lou, who still held the position. However, the office’s affairs were so numerous that Hai Lou had gradually become overstretched. On several occasions, he had requested additional deputies, and Yue Yang had agreed. Yet scholars who could talk eloquently and pontificate about state affairs were easy to find by the handful, while those truly proficient in agriculture were exceedingly rare. Until now, no suitable candidate had been found. Seeing someone volunteer to serve as Deputy Director of the Civil Administration Office immediately piqued Yue Yang’s interest.

“Since you wish to serve as Deputy Director of the Civil Administration Office, I’ll test you,” Yue Yang said. “At present, Hunyuan Prefecture has taken in nearly two hundred thousand refugees. If this were entrusted to you, how would you settle them?”

Wu Qing knew this was Yue Yang’s examination of him—whether he would eat meat or merely drink soup in the future depended on his performance now. He immediately gathered his focus and said, “My lord, this matter is not difficult. In this student’s view, the key to resettling refugees is to settle them in batches. Our dynasty already has established regulations: fifty households form a jia, one hundred households form a tun. Concentrate the refugees on a single tract of land, distribute farming tools, seeds, and draft cattle, and they will be bound to the land, leaving no need to worry about them turning into bandits. However, there are several points that must be noted in resettling refugees. First, the refugees come from complex backgrounds, so they must be arranged according to different surnames, clans, and regions; otherwise, clan power may easily form. Second, each tun must implement a system of jia leaders and tun heads…”

Wu Qing spoke at length for nearly a quarter of an hour. Yue Yang listened and nodded frequently. As the saying goes, once an expert makes a move, you know whether they’re the real deal. From Wu Qing’s words alone, Yue Yang could tell he had genuine ability. At the very least, the methods he proposed for resettling refugees were all practical. Although his actual working capability was still unknown, based on these ideas alone, he was certainly fit to be a policymaker.

“Alright, that’s enough for now,” Yue Yang said, stopping Wu Qing, who was still speaking enthusiastically. He then pointed to the scholar beside him, named Chen Zhi. “Now it’s your turn. What kind of post do you want?”

Chen Zhi, who had a square face, said somewhat shyly, “This student isn’t particularly interested in civil administration. I wish to follow the general and serve as an aide-de-camp.”

In ancient times, an aide-de-camp in the army was essentially a staff officer—responsible not only for offering strategies to the commander-in-chief but also for drafting documents and orders. It was a relatively low-profile position, which surprised Yue Yang somewhat.

Yue Yang looked at him for a while in surprise before nodding. “Oh? I didn’t expect a scholar like you to be interested in military affairs. That’s quite rare.”

Chen Zhi said modestly, “Please forgive me if I cause the general amusement. When I was studying at home, I was quite interested in military treatises and battlefield formations. But my father hoped I would obtain an official degree. After ten years of hard study, I managed to become a xiucai, yet I realized that advancing to juren would be harder than reaching the heavens. Thus, I thought of joining under the general’s command to gain experience, and I ask for the general’s indulgence.”

“So that’s how it is,” Yue Yang murmured. He casually asked Chen Zhi several military questions and found that, while his answers weren’t entirely orthodox, they were still far better than those of ordinary people. He nodded. “Very well. I’ve finished asking my questions. I’m generally satisfied with your answers. Now then—Wu Qing… I recall your courtesy name is San Shi, correct? San Shi, report to Director Hai at the Civil Administration Office tomorrow; he’ll arrange your duties. Chen Zhi, your courtesy name is Zai Liu, right? Zai Liu, you’ll go to the General’s Residence tomorrow and start as a clerk. I’ll arrange your specific duties later. That’s all—”

Before Yue Yang could finish, Chen Dazhi hurried in. Seeing his appearance, Yue Yang frowned slightly. Why was Chen Dazhi being so undisciplined today, rushing in without even announcing himself? But as soon as this thought arose, Yue Yang noticed the anxiety and trace of panic on Chen Dazhi’s face. He immediately realized that something serious must have happened—otherwise his personal guard captain would never look like this.

Before Yue Yang could speak, Chen Dazhi strode up to him and said in a low voice, “General, we’ve just received news. On the fifteenth of this month, the bandits Gao Yingxiang, Li Zicheng, and Zhang Xianzhong attacked and breached Fengyang. They beheaded Zhu Guoxiang, the Acting Guardian of the Ming Central Capital, along with several thousand officers and soldiers. The imperial mausoleum buildings were destroyed, and Longxing Temple was burned.”

“Boom—”

Yue Yang was momentarily stunned. Only then did he realize how he had managed to forget such a major event. The incident that occurred in the eighth year of Chongzhen would profoundly influence the Ming dynasty’s later military deployments and overall trajectory.

Seeing the slight change in Yue Yang’s expression, Wu Qing and Chen Zhi exchanged glances. Though curious, they dared not ask, and the hall fell into silence.

After a while, Yue Yang let out a long breath and, regaining his composure, gave Wu Qing and Chen Zhi a wry smile. “I’ve made a fool of myself in front of you two. I’ve just learned of a major event, so I lost my composure.”

Seeing that both men wanted to ask yet did not dare, Yue Yang decided not to conceal it. After all, even if he didn’t say anything, they would soon hear about it anyway. He explained, “Just now, I received word that several days ago, the bandits Gao Yingxiang, Li Zicheng, and Zhang Xianzhong captured Fengyang, destroyed the imperial mausoleum buildings, burned Longxing Temple, killed more than sixty eunuchs, and beheaded Zhu Guoxiang, Acting Guardian of the Ming Central Capital, along with several thousand officers and soldiers.”

“What?! Fengyang has fallen!” Wu Qing and Chen Zhi exclaimed in shock.

Fengyang was no ordinary place. Though it wasn’t a strategic stronghold, it was Zhu Yuanzhang’s hometown. After becoming emperor, Zhu Yuanzhang had granted Fengyang numerous preferential policies and built the imperial mausoleum there. Longxing Temple, where Zhu Yuanzhang had once been a monk in his youth, was also a site of special protection. Now it had been reduced to ashes by a band of roving rebels—this was no different from poking a hornet’s nest. The capital in Beijing was sure to erupt into chaos.

After learning this news, Wu Qing and Chen Zhi knew Yue Yang must have urgent matters to handle, so they quickly took their leave. Watching them depart, Yue Yang beckoned Chen Dazhi over and instructed him, “Go tell Jiang He to investigate the backgrounds of those two carefully. Remember—be thorough. If there’s any issue, report it immediately.”

“Yes!”

Chen Dazhi soon departed, leaving Yue Yang seated alone in deep thought.

After a long while, Yue Yang, who had remained motionless the entire time, let out a heavy sigh. “It seems the Ming dynasty’s military strategy is about to undergo a major shift.”

As someone who came from later times, Yue Yang knew all too well that it was precisely because Gao Yingxiang and the others burned Fengyang that Chongzhen shifted his military focus from resisting the Later Jin to suppressing internal rebel forces. This led to the Ming dynasty, over the next five or six years, gradually bleeding away its remaining elite troops on domestic battlefields—like squeezing toothpaste—until the Manchus ultimately reaped an enormous advantage.

Events unfolded exactly as Yue Yang expected. Upon receiving news of Fengyang’s fall, Emperor Chongzhen donned plain mourning clothes, wept bitterly, and sent officials to report to the ancestral temples. An edict was issued to conscript troops to suppress the peasant armies. On the thirteenth day of the second month, due to the loss of the imperial mausoleum, Grand Secretary of Canal Transport Yang Yihe was arrested and imprisoned. Subsequently, along with Supervising Censor Wu Zhenying and the eunuch guardian of the mausoleum, Yang Ze, he was thrown into prison. Yang Ze committed suicide; Yang Yipeng was executed in the marketplace; Wu Zhenying was exiled to the frontier.

Although Yue Yang already knew the outcome of the Fengyang incident from history books of another time and space, he still had no way to intervene in its course. Though he was now a brigadier general commanding sixteen thousand troops, in the vast Ming dynasty he was still a small, insignificant figure. Many things he could only watch unfold, powerless to change them.

However, in March, Yue Yang suddenly received an order from Datong Prefecture…