MLMD -Chapter 74 The Wretched Thousand-Household Garrison

The original commander of the Yingzhou Thousand-Household Garrison was named Wu Fatian. The name itself sounded rather audacious—almost “lawless”—yet the man was the complete opposite. In reality, Wu Fatian was timid, risk-averse, and extremely greedy.

In theory, the Yingzhou Thousand-Household Garrison was supposed to consist of one thousand military households, with a population of over five thousand people. In truth, however, the garrison at this time had barely more than one hundred and twenty military households left—fewer than five hundred people in total.

Yes, it really was that outrageous.

Anyone with even a basic understanding of Ming dynasty history knew just how disastrous the military household system was. It was not only cruel to those trapped within it, but also ruined generation after generation of their descendants. That said, it had to be admitted that in the early years of the Ming dynasty, the system had worked reasonably well. It saved the court enormous amounts of grain and provided the empire with a standing force of over a million soldiers.

But from the mid-Ming period onward, as the civil officials rose to dominance and discipline within the garrisons steadily collapsed, vast tracts of military farmland were seized by officers at every level. Countless military households were reduced to tenant farmers for their own commanders. Unable to survive, the soldiers’ families began fleeing in large numbers. On this matter, the officers were astonishingly united in their attitude: they simply let it happen. After all, with fewer military households around, it became even easier for them to seize land without restraint.

Wu Fatian was a textbook example—just an unfortunate one whose luck had run out, landing him directly in prison.

Yue Yang rode a red warhorse along a sloping road leading up the mountain. Behind him followed Shunbao, a clerk sent by Zheng Fakui, and a hundred fully armed cavalrymen. The procession looked rather imposing.

Winter was already drawing to a close. The winter sun felt pleasantly warm on the body, and before long, a small fortress came into view ahead of them.

At that moment, the clerk who had been riding close behind Shunbao urged his horse forward a couple of steps, pointed at the fortress, and said to Yue Yang, “My lord, the fortress ahead is the Thousand-Household Garrison. But most of the military households inside have already fled. Those who remain are mostly the old, the weak, the sick, and the disabled. If you intend to select officers from within… I’m afraid—”

As he spoke, the clerk shook his head, making his pessimism unmistakably clear.

Hearing this, Shunbao shot him a glare from behind, thinking to himself, This fellow really doesn’t know when to shut up. The young master has come all this way to attend to official business, and here he is spouting such discouraging words.

Yue Yang, however, did not mind at all. He merely smiled faintly and said softly, “There’s nothing to be done about it. Everyone in court knows that the garrison military households have already collapsed, yet no one has any real solution. After all, this concerns the livelihoods of millions—one wrong move, and the entire Ming dynasty could fall into chaos.”

Given Yue Yang’s current status, such words would normally prompt others to agree or at least remain silent. Yet this clerk seemed to grow more animated instead, raising his voice as he said, “But today’s Ming dynasty is no longer what it once was! In the Hongwu and Yongle eras, the garrison households could still support themselves and even submit grain to the court. But since the disaster at Tumu Fortress, discipline in the garrisons has completely decayed. These military households have now become a blood-sucking tumor on the body of the Ming—it will drag the empire down alive!”

“Heh—what’s wrong with you? Can’t you tell good from bad?” Shunbao immediately bristled, urging his horse forward and glaring at the clerk with disdain. “My young master brought you along to lead the way, not to lecture us! Matters like these are for His Majesty and the court ministers to worry about. What right does a petty clerk like you have to talk about affairs of state?”

“Who says I don’t?” Feeling Shunbao’s contemptuous gaze, the clerk flushed red with anger and hurriedly retorted, “Master Fangweng once said: Though of low rank, one dares not forget concern for the nation. Besides, we scholars—”

Shunbao curled his lip in scorn. “Master Fangweng? Never heard of him.”

“You—!” The clerk was so enraged that his neck bulged. He pointed at Shunbao for a long while before finally choking out, “A vulgar fellow is not worth discussing plans with!”

“Hmph.” Shunbao could not be bothered with the impoverished scholar any longer. He lifted his chin and continued following behind Yue Yang.

Watching the two bicker, Yue Yang shook his head helplessly and urged his horse forward, picking up speed.

Soon, the group arrived at the fortress. Upon drawing closer, Yue Yang discovered that it stood atop a small hill, stretching roughly a li in length. Mountains flanked it to the east and west, with only two access roads from the north and south. There was even a well on the mountain. It was a classic stronghold—easy to defend and hard to attack. With sufficient supplies and a thousand defenders, even an army of fewer than ten thousand would find it impossible to take. Whoever had chosen this location clearly possessed keen military insight.

Yet once Yue Yang and his men entered the fortress, that favorable impression was utterly shattered.

The moment they passed through the gates, a stench assaulted their senses—a vile mixture of sewage, excrement, and unidentifiable foul odors. Completely unprepared, Yue Yang nearly toppled off his horse.

“Damn it all!” Shunbao shouted at once. “What kind of smell is this? What kind of hellhole is this place? It stinks worse than our latrine back home!”

“Enough—stop talking and move in!” Yue Yang shot Shunbao a glare and rode in first with an expressionless face. Only he himself knew how much he regretted not bringing a face covering—if he had known it would be like this, he certainly would have.

As they continued forward, Yue Yang grew increasingly shocked. The conditions were beyond dreadful. Along the narrow streets stood rows of ramshackle huts made of thatch. Ragged, emaciated old men and children sat blankly at their doorways, staring at Yue Yang’s procession. He looked carefully and saw almost no able-bodied young men. The few slightly younger males present were filthy and disheveled, standing off to the side. Poorly dressed women sat silently at their doors as well, watching the group pass. In their eyes there was neither joy nor anger—only a profound despair and numbness.

Yue Yang slowly closed his eyes. If not for the unmistakably Chinese buildings and people around him, he might have thought he had wandered into a modern African refugee camp. In a voice only he could hear, he murmured, “I never imagined that the people’s suffering had reached such depths… No wonder… no wonder…”

Even Shunbao, usually the most talkative of them all, fell silent at the sight. After a long pause, he muttered, “I used to think Wuli Village was poor enough. But compared to these garrison households, we were living like immortals.”

Some things truly become terrifying only when compared. Seeing all this, Yue Yang felt that Shunbao was absolutely right. Wuli Village might have been poor, but at least life there was bearable. Compared to these military households, the people of Wuli Village were practically living in honey jars.

Slowly closing his eyes, Yue Yang found his hand clenching unconsciously into a tight fist.

“Heaven,” he asked silently, “why did you bring me into this world and show me this scene? Is it to make me save this nation and people whose backbone is about to be broken?”

A lifelong atheist, Yue Yang found himself, for the first time, questioning whether gods truly existed as he gazed upon these people struggling on the brink of death.

The group gradually reached the center of the fortress—the former residence of Thousand-Household Commander Wu. There, more than a dozen military officers in official uniforms, along with several dozen retainers, stood waiting to welcome them.

Naturally, these officers and retainers looked far better fed and clothed than the military households they had just passed. Many wore almost fawning smiles as they stepped forward. When Yue Yang dismounted, the group dropped to one knee in unison and called out, “This humble officer and others pay our respects to Lord Caoshou. May Lord Caoshou enjoy peace and prosperity!”

“Please, rise.”

Having only been appointed Caoshou a few days earlier, Yue Yang was still unaccustomed to being knelt before. He quickly raised his hand slightly, signaling for them to stand.

“Thank you, my lord!” They rose together.

After the formalities, a military officer in his thirties stepped forward. He wore a green official robe with a tiger embroidered on his chest. His face was full of ingratiating smiles as he said, “Lord Caoshou, you have traveled far and must be weary. We have prepared a welcoming banquet inside to cleanse the dust from your journey. Please do us the honor of entering.”

Yue Yang ignored him and slowly swept his gaze across the assembled officers. Only then did he look back at the man and ask, “And you are…?”

The officer smiled obsequiously. “This humble officer is Deputy Thousand-Household Feng Xiaoming. Upon hearing that my lord was coming, I was so overjoyed I couldn’t sleep all night. Early this morning I arranged—”

“That’s enough—stop,” Yue Yang cut him off. “Let me ask you something first. Hmm… your name is Feng Xiaoyun, is that right? Tell me—are all the officers of the garrison here?”

Feng Xiaoyun paused, then replied, “In reply to my lord, aside from Thousand-Household Wu, who has been arrested and charged, all officers of rank centurion and above are present.”

“All of them?” Yue Yang could not help but feel disappointed. He muttered, “Why do they all look like a bunch of farming winebags…”

His voice was low, but several sharp-eared officers still caught it. Their faces immediately flushed red, though none dared speak up.

Yet as the saying goes, nothing is absolute. A voice suddenly rang out—one completely unexpected by Yue Yang.

“My lord, your words are mistaken. In this humble officer’s view, the cavalry behind you are the truly useless ones—mere show without substance, no better than winebags themselves!”

“Hmm…”

In an instant, everyone was stunned, and Yue Yang’s brows shot up sharply…