MLMD -Chapter 244 Inquiry

Yue Yang fully understood why Lu Xiangsheng had arranged for the Yingzhou troops to camp beside the central army’s main tent. Lu Xiangsheng’s move served two purposes: first, to show everyone how highly he valued him, and second, to send a clear message to the generals from Liaodong—“This man is under my protection, so mind your manners.”

Yue Yang appreciated Lu Xiangsheng’s intention. After ordering his troops to set up camp, he came to Lu Xiangsheng’s tent to express his gratitude.

By now, night had fallen. When Yue Yang entered the camp, he saw Lu Xiangsheng standing with his back to him, studying a large map under the dim candlelight. Yue Yang did not disturb him but quietly stood behind him.

After a long while, Lu Xiangsheng turned around. Seeing Yue Yang, he was slightly startled and asked, “Zhenghong, why are you up so late? Is there something you need?”

It was night, and no one else was in the tent, so Lu Xiangsheng addressed Yue Yang by his courtesy name to show closeness. Yue Yang smiled. “Sir, as a newcomer, I noticed that our colleagues from Xuanda and those from Liaodong don’t seem to get along very well. I am puzzled and wanted to seek your guidance on the matter.”

Lu Xiangsheng sighed in helplessness. “Ah… it’s all because of the Eastern Barbarians. Their forces invaded Ming territory in three separate directions. We were caught off guard, and the Tatars pressed all the way to the capital. The emperor was furious and summoned me with my troops to provide aid. Since the loyalist forces could not arrive in time, the emperor also assigned some Liaodong troops under my command. But as you’ve seen, each Liaodong soldier considers himself the strongest in the entire Ming army. They are arrogant and difficult to command. That’s why today Wu Sangui made things difficult for you.”

“‘The strongest army in Ming?’” Yue Yang sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “They must be the strongest army when it comes to collecting silver, perhaps.”

Lu Xiangsheng frowned at Yue Yang’s scornful remark. “Zhenghong, be careful with your words. It’s fine to say this here, but if the generals from Liaodong hear you, it would cause trouble.”

Yue Yang’s temper flared even more. “Trouble? A bunch of good-for-nothing bribe-takers who can’t get anything done!”

Speaking of the Liaodong military faction inevitably brought up Li Chengliang, a famous general of the mid- to late Ming. Mentioning him also required bringing up Qi Jiguang, another prominent general of the same period.

Qi Jiguang and Li Chengliang were both outstanding in battle, but their styles were completely different. Qi Jiguang always solved problems directly: in the south, he annihilated the Wokou pirates with his Mandarin Duck formation; in the north, he used the Great Wall, firearms, and overwhelming force to suppress the Mongols. Places under his command experienced peace for a long time.

Li Chengliang, on the other hand, fought very differently. He would attack one enemy, leave them barely alive, and then manipulate the next round of conflict. For example, he might first attack faction A and then use faction B to weaken them, later bolster faction C to strike back, and then let the semi-recovered A fight C. He never fully eliminated threats, just fought endless battles back and forth—a strategy that ensured constant warfare but also continuous victories. In short, it could be described as “nurturing thieves to claim merit.”

The results of their styles differed greatly. Qi Jiguang, appreciated by Zhang Juzheng, guarded Jibei for over a decade with almost no conflict. Long-term peace is good for an empire but not necessarily for the individual general. Without warfare, Qi Jiguang had no achievements to earn titles or promotions. After Zhang Juzheng died, he was marginalized, slandered, stripped of office, and eventually died in obscurity and financial hardship.

Li Chengliang, meanwhile, governed Liaodong for over thirty years, winning countless battles. Victories were reported to Beijing repeatedly, and the emperor often offered sacrifices and bestowed him with gold-threaded robes, crowns, treasures, and annual rewards. Ming records state, “Li Chengliang’s military accomplishments were unparalleled in two centuries.” He eventually became Grand Tutor, his family ennobled, even his servants rose to prominence. Li’s family controlled Liaodong’s entire military budget and taxation, effectively monopolizing all profits in the region.

The outcomes of their actions had very different consequences for the state. Qi Jiguang’s campaigns eliminated Wokou pirates along the southeastern coast and kept Mongols from threatening the northern frontier until the Ming dynasty’s end. Li Chengliang, however, left Liaodong impoverished after decades of warfare, fomenting resentment among the local minorities. He also raised a son-in-law named Nurhaci, who later rebelled against Ming, citing the “Thirteen Great Wrongs,” and was eventually honored by his descendants as the founding emperor of the Qing dynasty.

After Li Chengliang’s death, his successors continued his policies, constantly leveraging the threat of the Manchus to extort the court. By the late Ming, Liaodong’s military expenditures, called Liaoxiang, skyrocketed. In the early Ming, border defenses cost about 220,000 taels of silver annually; by Wanli’s reign, this rose to 3.8 million taels. After Nurhaci’s rebellion, Liaoxiang expenditures reached 17.2 million taels in under four years, averaging over 4 million taels per year. Even after deductions for other regions, Shanhaiguan alone required 4 million taels annually. The burden of Liaoxiang caused widespread suffering, contributing significantly to the Ming’s eventual collapse.

If the Liaoxiang funds had been fully spent on defending against the Manchu threat, Yue Yang might not have been so angry—but he knew most of it was embezzled by Liaodong officials and military officers. Hu Bu Shangshu Bi Ziyan once reported to the emperor: “Even if the Eastern army never fires a single arrow westward, our empire is already suffering.” Yue Yang, fully aware of Liaodong corruption, could only express disgust whenever the topic arose.

Lu Xiangsheng, as Xuanda governor, knew all this too, but he was powerless. Over decades, Liaodong had become a massive, entrenched entity with too many vested interests. Even the emperor, Chongzhen, could do little.

After a long silence, Lu Xiangsheng sighed. “Zhenghong, Liaodong is beyond our control. Let’s not discuss that for now. I’ve wanted to talk with you properly for some time, but haven’t had the chance. Since you’re here today, we can finally have a proper conversation.”

Yue Yang paused, then nodded. “If you wish to speak, Sir, I will accompany you.”

Lu Xiangsheng pointed to a nearby stool. “Sit.”

After both were seated, Lu Xiangsheng began: “Zhenghong, since you took command of the Northern Route in the past two years, you have managed it excellently—resettling refugees, eliminating bandits, cultivating fields, and last year even contributing 700,000 dan of grain and over 100,000 taels of silver in taxes. I am gratified to hear this. But there is one matter I hope you can answer truthfully. May I?”

Yue Yang cupped his hands. “Please speak, Sir.”

Lu Xiangsheng’s gaze fixed on him. “Zhenghong, how many troops have you currently recruited? I want the truth.”

A cold light gleamed in Lu Xiangsheng’s eyes, and a subtle authority emanated from him. Yue Yang felt the pressure but studied him thoughtfully for a moment before calmly replying: “I would not conceal anything, Sir. Currently, I command over 18,000 soldiers in the Northern Route. I have brought 8,000 here, leaving 10,000 to guard the North.”

Lu Xiangsheng took a deep breath to suppress his surprise and continued: “I heard you submitted a petition today to recruit another 10,000 soldiers. Is this true?”

“Sir, it is indeed true,” Yue Yang replied straightforwardly. “Some time ago, Chen Xinjia instigated the censorate to have me removed from the Northern Route, and none of the officials spoke on my behalf. You understand the consequences if I were removed. This was a last resort, and I hope you will understand.”

Lu Xiangsheng fell silent. In his position, he knew the court well. If Yue Yang left the Northern Route, all his accomplishments would be wiped out, greedy officials would seize his wealth, and without the financial support of the North, his apparently strong army would quickly collapse.

Yue Yang’s call for recruiting 10,000 more troops was also a signal to the court: push me too far, and don’t expect me to be polite.

Looking into Yue Yang’s earnest eyes, Lu Xiangsheng remained silent. On a personal level, Yue Yang’s actions were for self-preservation; from the state’s perspective, they were a step toward the path of a regional military strongman.