Volume One: Is There a Road for Humanity in Chaotic Times? Chapter 29: Deciding the Plan II
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Deng She mulled it over, but could come up with no good idea. Chen Hu offered a suggestion: feign illness and avoid meeting Lady Wang; let him and Wen Huaguo handle everything. If Lady Wang wished to go to Shandu, they would see her off with all due ceremony; if she wished to return to the capital, the same.
It was a plan, but not a good one. It was all too easy to backfire, making their intentions as blatant as Sima Zhao’s ambition, and earning themselves a reputation for being treacherous and deceitful. Unless there was truly no other way, it was best not to use such a scheme.
On the sixth day, He Guangxiu came to report that while inspecting travelers at the city gate, he had captured a spy from Xingzhou (now central-western Chengde). Upon interrogation, he learned that news of Deng She and his men taking Yongping had reached Xingzhou three days prior. Zhang Jujing, the Deputy Chief of the Liaoyang Branch Military Council, was currently in Xingzhou, and the spy had been sent by him.
According to the spy, Zhang Jujing had also dispatched a man to Danning, to coordinate with Shijia Bao, the Darughachi of Danning Route. Whether the intention was to join forces with Shijia Bao’s troops to defend their territory or to unite with Danning’s army to attack Yongping, the spy did not know.
Danning and Xingzhou were both major strongholds in western Liao.
At the end of last year, Guan Duo and Pan Cheng had taken Shandu. The elite Tiger Guards stationed nearby rose to support, but were quickly routed in battle, and their commander fell on the field. Guan Duo seized the momentum, established himself in Shandu, and sent out two forces: Pan Cheng led the main force north from Quanning (now Ongniud Banner, Inner Mongolia) into Liaoyang; Mao Jujing, a Marquis, led thirty thousand south via Danning into Liaoyang.
Pan Cheng’s force was victorious everywhere, taking Yizhou Route and occupying Liaoyang within ten days, shaking all of eastern Liao. Mao Jujing’s southern force, however, fared poorly, stuck before Danning and Xingzhou for half a month with no success. At last, exhausted and out of provisions, they withdrew empty-handed.
Afterwards, Mao Jujing followed Guan Duo west to Fengzhou, thus sparing the region of western Liao. Since then, Zhang Jujing of Xingzhou and Shijia Bao of Danning had become famous throughout the Northern Expedition army.
Hearing this news, Deng She quickly saw that the disadvantages outweighed the benefits.
The benefit was that the trouble of Lady Wang could now be resolved. To go to Shandu, one must pass through Danning and Xingzhou, and with Zhang Jujing and Shijia Bao prepared, he could exaggerate the threat to dissuade Lady Wang from the idea. If she did not go to Shandu, her next option would be Shandong. The troops she had summoned were all local to Liaodong; with a simple excuse of being unaccustomed to the climate and unwilling to go, they could select a few men to escort her across the sea with due respect.
The disadvantage was that the armies under Zhang Jujing and Shijia Bao were seasoned and well-equipped; if they were prepared, it would put enormous pressure on Deng She, who was still recruiting troops.
He praised and rewarded He Guangxiu, sending him to await orders outside, then sent for Chen Hu and the others to discuss their countermeasures.
At twilight, dark clouds pressed down upon the rooftops, seemingly within arm’s reach; the white stone pathway in the courtyard was shrouded in gloom. The guards, clad in red, chatted quietly at the door. Deng She gazed outside, but the generals were slow to arrive.
Thinking of the reputations of Zhang Jujing and Shijia Bao, he grew restless. He tried to study the map of Yongping, presented by Wu Henian, but could not focus. His heart pounded and his palms sweated. Though he had been a soldier for some time, he had rarely made decisions on his own. For grand strategy, there were always higher officers like Guan Duo and Pan Cheng above, and Deng San commanding in battle below.
What was asked of him was simply to fight on the battlefield. Even in danger, he only looked after himself, at most adding Deng San and his own men into the bargain. In truth, the capture of Yongping was his first independent, significant decision.
The victory had brought him confidence, but just like a gambler who wins big only to hesitate before the next bet, he now found himself anxious in the face of this unexpected crisis.
The map’s edges were soaked with sweat from his hands; he tossed it aside. His gaze fell by chance upon a notebook, open to his recent plans for a foray into Goryeo. With just two armies, they were already so alarmed—what right did he have to dream of conquering three thousand li of Goryeo’s rivers and mountains? He laughed at himself.
He recited softly a lesson he had learned from Deng San before joining the army: “Never enter the forest; when trouble comes, remain calm.” He steadied himself and pondered carefully.
The situation was clear. Now calm, he judged that whatever Zhang Jujing and Shijia Bao’s intentions, Yongping was untenable—they must leave as soon as possible. If even Danning and Xingzhou in far-off Liaoxi were stirring, then the nearby cities were surely even more restless.
Boots thudded as the generals filed in.
Compared to their days on the run, they were now transformed: each face shone with good food, each wore a brand-new suit of armor from Yongping’s stores. Suddenly, the great hall glittered with the clash of swords and the gleam of polished helms, sweeping away the darkness inside.
The most ostentatious of all was Wen Huaguo. With a golden helmet, gold rings on his fingers, and a thick gold chain wound around his waist, he gleamed from head to toe. Even his two great hammers, never out of his hands, had been gilded by craftsmen. Two attendants carried them, clearing a path as he swaggered into the hall.
All eyes turned to him.
Yellow Mule gave a contemptuous snort; Monk Li stared in astonishment; Luo Guoqi could not suppress a laugh and turned away. Guan Shirong, who shared responsibility for city security with Wen Huaguo, had seen this display before, yet still could not help but smile and invited him to sit.
Deng She and the other old bandits of the Horse Thieves knew well Wen Huaguo’s habit of flaunting his wealth, so they were not surprised. Chen Hu arrived last, busy with the recruitment of soldiers.
Seeing everyone assembled, Deng She summoned He Guangxiu, ordered him to bring in the spy, and had him recount the enemy’s movements in detail. In front of the generals, he interrogated the man repeatedly, and when satisfied, ordered He Guangxiu to take him away and execute him. Before seeking everyone’s counsel, he first asked Chen Hu, “General, how goes the recruitment?”
“A rumor has spread—no one knows from where—that our Northern Expedition army numbers a million. Grain is scarce in the counties, and the people are anxious. In four or five days, eight thousand have enlisted. These past two days, even more have come—just this morning, two thousand.” Deng She, Chen Hu, and Wen Huaguo had agreed to keep the origin of this rumor secret among themselves, and had also instructed Wu Henian not to speak of it, lest a slip of the tongue expose them.
Deng She nodded and addressed the generals: “I’m sure you’ve all heard of Zhang Jujing and Shijia Bao. There aren’t many Tartars in Danning, yet Shijia Bao, relying only on his Green Army, held the city for half a month, forcing Marquis Mao to withdraw. A formidable opponent. The Tiger Guards of Xingzhou, too, are not to be underestimated—the only surviving wing of the Tiger Guards’ command. In light of all this, what strategies do you propose?”
The hall fell silent.
Wen Huaguo, usually the first to speak, kept his head down and said not a word. Chen Hu and Zhao Guo were also silent. Like Deng She, they sensed the subtlety of the news and weighed the pros and cons.
Monk Li frowned, removed his helmet, rubbed his bald head, and muttered, “The Tartars are seasoned fighters. Our new troops are untested. If they really attack, I doubt Yongping can be held.”
Luo Guoqi glanced left and right. Seeing no one else speak, he said, worried, “General, Monk Li is right. Danning and Xingzhou are no small matter. Even Marquis Mao with thirty thousand crack troops could not break the city. Our army—newly formed, barely drilled, let alone battle-tested—has only eight hundred men who can truly be called veterans. As for whether we stay or go…” He shot a quick look at Deng She, then at Chen Hu, and hesitated.
Deng She said, “General Luo, speak freely. In times of crisis, we must work together.”
Luo Guoqi nodded repeatedly. He had already voiced his opinion many times since arriving at Yongping: “I believe we should avoid the Tartars’ sharp edge and sail across the sea. With these eight thousand men and the credit of protecting Lady Wang, surely Chancellor Mao Gui in Shandong would entrust you with a heavy responsibility?”
Yellow Mule snorted, “Cowering before the enemy! You suggested going to Shandong at the last council, and now, without the enemy even moving, you want to scurry away again! What of Shandu? What of Chancellor Guan? And what of Lady Wang?” He paused, then added, “Where does that leave Lady Wang?”
Yellow Mule had at first agreed to come to Yongping because they were isolated; if the princes of the north truly marched south, he had neither men nor horses and was resigned to his fate. Now that recruitment was going well, he was loath to abandon Shandu for Shandong. In Shandong, he would be at Deng She’s mercy; in Shandu, he was certain that Guan Duo would put these eight thousand men under his command.
Besides, since taking Yongping, he had been seething.
Wen Huaguo was brazen, showing him no respect; Chen Hu was cold and sarcastic; Zhao Guo, a mere guard, acted as his equal; the treasury’s gold and silver, of which he received only a paltry hundred taels.
As for the division of power: Chen Hu handled recruitment; Wen Huaguo and Guan Shirong managed security; Zhao Guo oversaw the stores; Luo Guoqi appeased the populace; Monk Li patrolled the counties. When it came to him, they made a show of inviting him to councils, but apart from gatherings like this, Deng She had never once consulted him.
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What infuriated him most was that, a few days ago, Deng She, for the sake of the Tartar commander’s wife, had actually kicked him, a dignified Song dynasty Thousand Commander, out of Liu’s residence, leaving him to wander the streets like a stray dog in search of lodging. Though Deng She had later explained, how could he swallow this humiliation!
He cursed himself for ever thinking Deng She a man of principle. The more he thought, the angrier he became. Yellow Mule fumed, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Now was not the time to explode—once they reached Shandu, he would have his revenge.
He heard Guan Shirong say, “Returning to Shandu is possible, but the road passes through the strongholds of Danning and Xingzhou. We’d best not run into trouble and become a laughingstock for abandoning our city and courting death.”
“There’s more than one road—you can always go around Danning the long way,” said Yellow Mule irritably.
He disliked Guan Shirong and the others just as much.
Luo Guoqi followed Deng She around, currying favor; Guan Shirong ignored him and was thick as thieves with Wen Huaguo. Monk Li had always butted heads with Deng She, which Yellow Mule had admired. But since taking Yongping, the bald monk seemed to have changed completely, obediently carrying out Deng She’s orders without a peep.
No sooner had he spoken than Guan Shirong retorted, “Taking eight thousand new troops and skirting the lair of tigers and wolves is hardly safe.”
“So what do you propose?” Yellow Mule, barely suppressing his anger, asked coldly.
Guan Shirong pondered for a long time but could find no solution. Luo Guoqi’s words seemed reasonable. He turned to Deng She, “We should follow the general’s lead.”
Deng She cleared his throat and looked at Chen Hu: “Commander Chen, you’ve been silent for a while—you must have something in mind. I’m all ears.”
With this cue, Chen Hu nodded in understanding. “Everyone has a point. Comparatively, Shandong seems safer than Shandu. As Commander Guan said, leading eight thousand new recruits through such peril is too risky.” He took a deep breath, troubled. “But as Commander Luo said, going to Shandong, though safe, is only a temporary solution.”
“What do you mean?” Deng She asked, and all eyes turned to Chen Hu.
“In Shandong, we’d be outsiders. My concern is that we’re few and isolated, with no powerful patrons. Who knows when we might be used as cannon fodder?” His words rang true; after years as Horse Thieves, they had suffered plenty.
Luo Guoqi, Guan Shirong, and Monk Li all nodded in agreement. They were, after all, outsiders even in the Northern Expedition army. In the recent campaign for Fengzhou, theirs had been the vanguard; after the victory, Guan Duo’s men took the city while they were sent further to fight elsewhere.
Technically, they belonged to Mao Gui’s command, but after years in the army, they knew no one in Shandong, and their own rank was low—Mao Gui didn’t know them. Going there rashly, how would they be treated?
“Quite right, quite right,” Monk Li echoed. Shandong was not an option, nor was Shandu. Guan Shirong asked, “Do you mean we should hold Yongping and wait for the enemy to move?”
Chen Hu shook his head. “Waiting is one thing, but we absolutely cannot defend the city. The men are inexperienced, all recruited from local refugees. If the Tartars besiege us, there will be trouble inside the walls for sure.”
“So we can’t run, we can’t stay—Commander Chen, are you saying we're trapped? Or do you mean to surrender?” Yellow Mule demanded.
Chen Hu stood up and replied seriously, “Brothers, you all know that since joining the army, I have killed not less than a thousand Tartars. I’ve never shirked from battle. Commander Huang, do not even mention the word ‘surrender.’”
Yellow Mule grunted, “Then what are you suggesting?”
Chen Hu caught his breath and turned to Deng She. “After much deliberation, I see only one way out: the northeast.”
“Where in the northeast?” Luo Guoqi, disappointed that his own plan had been rejected, perked up at the odd suggestion.
Chen Hu let his gaze sweep over everyone and said, “Goryeo.”
The reason Deng She and he had circled around the idea without stating it outright was because they feared that, if not handled properly, Luo Guoqi and the others might shake the resolve of the eight hundred veteran soldiers. Luo Guoqi, Guan Shirong, Monk Li, and Yellow Mule could come or go as they pleased, but Deng She had never intended to let the eight hundred go. They were essential for organizing, drilling, and leading charges.
With the words finally out, even the slowest among them understood that Chen Hu was voicing Deng She’s plan. Silence fell again, just as when they had planned the capture of Yongping.
Deng She waited calmly. Night fell and the hall grew dark. A wind rose in the courtyard, rustling leaves and bringing a chill. Deng She summoned a guard to light the candles and torches, and the flickering flames brought some warmth to the empty hall.
Wen Huaguo, growing impatient, leapt up, his gold chain clanking. “Old Chen’s idea is good, very good! Goryeo is a tiny place, its natives weak and timid. With eight thousand men, how can we fail to seize a foothold?”
He ordered his guard, “Go fetch that Korean, He Guangxiu, and ask if I’m right!” Then, glaring at everyone, “A bunch of spineless, gutless cowards—what are you hesitating for? Old Guan, you’re a real man—what say you?” Finally, he shot a scornful look at Yellow Mule, muttering curses.
Deng She stopped Wen Huaguo from summoning He Guangxiu and patiently explained his plan to everyone.
Guan Shirong’s face flushed red. Wen Huaguo’s insults stung him deeply. He could not help but recall Deng She’s earlier words: “The bolder the man, the greater the land he can claim.”
Taking Yongping had emboldened him. Protecting his people was still his first goal, but if he could grow stronger, why not? And by Deng She’s account, the conquest of Goryeo was feasible.
Clapping his thigh, he was about to speak when Monk Li suddenly stood, strode to the center, drew his sword with a clang, stabbed it into the floor, and, bald head gleaming, declared, “I may be a monk, but not a nun. I follow brave and capable men. General, I volunteer to lead the vanguard to Goryeo.”
Of the four, two agreed. Luo Guoqi, still unconvinced, stammered, “Will Lady Wang be willing to go?”
Wen Huaguo, sitting grandly, replied dismissively, “If she refuses, just find a few men to escort her across the sea.”
“In that case,” Luo Guoqi, reading the situation, gave in, “I have no objection.”
The tide had turned—returning to Shandu was now a pipe dream. Yellow Mule, feeling both disappointed and angry, nearly stormed out. But he forced himself to stay; in name, he was still a Thousand Commander—if he left, he’d be nothing. He knew full well the consequences. Sullenly, he muttered, “Since everyone agrees, I have no objection.”
Under another’s roof, one must bow for now. He consoled himself: money moves men’s hearts, and those hundred taels of silver would come in handy yet.
Deng She rose. “The plan is set. Gentlemen, even if the Tartars attack, they cannot come so soon. We will recruit for two more days. Though the eight thousand new recruits have been organized, officers have yet to be appointed. I propose: Generals Guan, Li, Luo, and Zhao each command a thousand; Wen and Chen, you’ll each take two thousand; Commander Huang, you’ll have to accept the role of Deputy Ten-Thousand Commander over these eight thousand men.”
Before anyone could speak, he continued, “Your current troops will serve as my personal guard for now. The rosters are with General Chen—he will assign the men. Is this arrangement acceptable to all?”
This was a plan he had worked out with Chen Hu and Wen Huaguo. If the generals stayed, this is how things would be arranged.
First, they lacked enough veterans to lead the troops in the coming Goryeo campaign, and needed these men. Second, if they chose to stay, failing to treat them fairly would only chill their loyalty and cast Deng She in a mean light. In any case, he retained the majority under his command.
Furthermore, when assigning the men, he could quietly ensure he received the strongest and fittest, without arousing resentment. He would also regain the eight hundred veteran soldiers, a perfect solution.
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Guan, Li, and Luo were easily settled, but not Yellow Mule. As Thousand Commander, he outranked the others and considered himself a core member; Chen Hu reasoned that whether given real authority or not, he would never be content, so best to grant him an empty title. Deng She agreed.
With appointments made, everyone was delighted—commanding a thousand was already a generous promotion for the others, so Guan Shirong and his peers had no complaints. Yellow Mule, unable to contain his anger, stormed off in a rage.
Wen Huaguo spat after him. He had long disliked that dog; during the council, Yellow Mule had been sarcastic and snide—if Wen Huaguo weren’t who he was, he would have settled things with his fists.
Deng She understood Yellow Mule’s anger. Unperturbed, he smiled, “Since no one objects, go familiarize yourselves with your units. The morning after tomorrow, we set out at dawn.”
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1. Branch Military Council
A military administration, initially set up in some provinces at the start of the Yuan dynasty. After unification, most were abolished. Kublai Khan intended to use them to limit the power of the provincial secretariats, but officials strongly opposed, and the plan was dropped. The command of provincial troops reverted to the provincial secretariats, usually headed by Mongols or occasionally Central Asians, never Han Chinese. In late Yuan turmoil, the court restored these councils in various provinces.
2. Deputy Chief of the Liaoyang Branch Military Council
A third-rank position.
3. Size of the Yuan Army
The Yuan army numbered about a million, though exact figures are unknown because “the military register is a state secret, and Han officials are not allowed to see it. Even the military secretariat’s own officials, aside from one or two chiefs, do not know the numbers.” For a hundred years, “no one knows the real strength of the troops except the emperor and leading Mongol officials.” Security was tight, and Han Chinese had no part in the military secretariat, even when there was little military activity: when the Yuan emperor summered at Shandu, “by old custom, only one council official stayed behind, and Han Chinese were excluded.” After Guan Duo took Shandu and burned the palaces, the emperor never returned.
4. Thousand Commander
Under the Yuan system: the Upper Ten-Thousand Command governed over 7,000 men, the Middle over 5,000, the Lower over 3,000. Thousand and Hundred Commanders also had three grades, with corresponding numbers. Below Hundred Commanders were unit leaders over ten men, also called Decarchs. Zhu Yuanzhang once held this post as a personal guard to Guo Zixing.
In terms of actual command: the commanders of the imperial guards and local garrisons held third rank; Thousand Commanders fourth or fifth, Hundred Commanders sixth or seventh. Rebel armies followed a similar structure.
5. Honorary Titles
Yuan military officers did not reach the first rank; the highest was the head of the military secretariat (first deputy rank). Each rank had an honorary title: above fifth were called generals, sixth to eighth captains or deputy captains, ninth had no honorary title. Thus, anyone above Thousand Commander could be called a general.
Each honorary rank had two or three grades; from second to eighth rank, there were thirty-four in total, such as Dragon and Tiger Guards General, Golden Guards General, Cavalry Guards General for the second rank.
However, the honorary titles and posts did not always correspond.
6. Annual Revenue
“Over three hundred gold ingots, over a thousand silver ingots.” One ingot weighed fifty taels; annual silver income was 50,000–60,000 taels, sometimes as much as 70,000–80,000. In 1298, Chancellor Wan Ze reported, “annual revenue… sixty thousand taels of silver…”
Over a century, plus what was inherited from earlier dynasties and the loot of the Ogedei era, when many Central Asians bought up land, water rights, wine and salt taxes, and even rights to bridges and ferries, paying the khanate in silver—totaling millions of taels over time. Thus, the treasury’s silver was substantial. Kublai Khan once sent 100,000 taels of gold to the western regions to buy medicine. On his death, his successor ordered the inspection of all silver holdings, finding 936,950 taels.
7. The Value of One Hundred Taels of Silver
A great sum indeed.
Starting in the Yuan, China used silver as a measure of value and gradually as currency. Yuan issued paper money based on silver. In the early years, one tael of silver equaled two strings of cash, a thousand coins each; by the Zhizheng era, inflation meant four strings of paper money could not buy six-tenths of a tael of silver, and one tael could fetch nearly seventy strings, or seventy thousand copper coins. That was the official rate; on the black market, silver fetched even more, as paper money was nearly worthless. In the tenth year of Zhizheng, the government issued new notes, but rice in Jiangnan sold for sixty-seven strings per stone; by the nineteenth year, rice in Hangzhou reached twenty-five strings per dou.
8. Yuanbao
Yuanbao means “treasure of the Yuan.”
The Chinese-style “yuanbao” began in the Yuan dynasty. In the thirteenth year of Zhiyuan, when Yuan troops conquered the Southern Song, Kublai Khan had the soldiers' loot melted and cast into silver ingots called yuanbao, and distributed them as rewards to meritorious officers.
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