Chapter 466: Only Two Hundred Forty Men
Wang Xiaohua had slain the formidable Black Evil God, earning him significant commendation and a promotion.
However, this achievement would be absorbed solely within the military's internal hierarchy.
When the time came to formally report the victory to the Emperor, the narrative would shift entirely.
The official memorial would read: "Under the sagacious command of Du Wenhuan, Grand General of Shaanxi Wang Cheng'en courageously led the charge, dashing bravely to the forefront and personally taking the head of the rebel Black Evil God."
Both Wang Cheng'en and Du Wenhuan would earn merit, cementing their place in the Emperor's favor. The sole person whose contribution would remain unknown to the Emperor would be Wang Xiaohua.
Mercifully, Bai Mao couldn't have cared less about such accolades!
He was a true, primordial rebel, a trusted lieutenant of Wang Er of Baishui, the very symbol of the late Ming peasant uprisings. When it came to "revolutionary zeal," he was even more resolute than many of Gao Family Village's elders and harbored no genuine ambition for advancement in officialdom.
He was, in short, the ideal candidate for penetrating enemy lines.
Noticing the great generals beginning to deliberate their next moves, Bai Mao slipped quietly into a corner of the room and muttered in a low voice, "Heavenly Lord, I've secured the rank of commander, with command over four hundred forty combat-ready soldiers. The next step is to bring in our own people and replace the existing garrison troops, isn't it?"
This was hardly an auspicious development!
If Gao Family Village was actively recruiting and rehabilitating outlaws, yet simultaneously driving others into banditry, then its claims to righteousness would be utterly hollow.
"These men must be retained," the Puppet Heavenly Lord declared. "Our own people will join, but the garrison troops must also be maintained. We must pursue both objectives with equal vigor."
"Ah?" Bai Mao blinked in confusion. "Won't this cause a significant overstaffing issue? Might the imperial court then perceive this as an act of rebellion, and our meticulously laid plans to infiltrate the imperial forces would unravel?"
A peculiar smile flickered across the Puppet Heavenly Lord's embroidered face. "Not at all! You need only observe."
Bai Mao: "???"
It wasn't long before Bai Mao understood.
When the four hundred forty garrison soldiers assigned to him by Wang Cheng'en arrived to report for duty, he counted them carefully, counting each man as he stood before him, only to his astonishment, there were only two hundred forty.
This contingent of two hundred forty men inexplicably boasted four centurions, each commanding a mere fifty-odd soldiers.
A cold sweat trickled down Bai Mao's back. "What in the world is going on? Aren't there supposed to be four hundred forty men?"
A Centurion Zhao stepped forward, his expression peculiar, regarding Bai Mao with the condescending gaze reserved for a clueless newcomer. "General Wang," he drawled, "there's absolutely nothing amiss with our numbers."
Bai Mao retorted, "What do you mean, 'nothing amiss'? Am I incapable of counting, or are you? Four centurions, each should command one hundred ten men. The four of you combined should total four hundred forty, so why are there only two hundred forty here?"
Centurion Zhao leaned in close, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "Our particular contingent has consistently numbered two hundred forty men for over a century. Every commander before you has maintained this exact number. The stipends for those two hundred 'missing' men, General, are entirely for your coffers. Should we genuinely present four hundred forty men, you would find yourself with no surplus military pay whatsoever."
Bai Mao: "Pfft!"
Centurion Zhao thought to himself, "This general truly appears to be a fresh face, ignorant of even the most basic military customs. To stumble upon such a windfall and then wear an expression of mild distaste... Shouldn't a sensible man be beaming with delight? Two hundred men's pay, just imagine the luxury of pocketing that!"
Bai Mao now comprehended the Heavenly Lord's cryptic remark about "no overstaffing." The Heavenly Lord must have meant to retain these two hundred forty men, merely adding two hundred more from Gao Family Village.
He let out a derisive snort. "I understand! No wonder the fighting capabilities of these garrison troops are utterly dismal; their official rosters are deliberately underfilled. An army that boasts ten thousand men actually only fields a little over six thousand, does it not?"
"'Over six thousand?' Centurion Zhao muttered softly. 'That's being generous. A general who can muster five thousand-plus men is considered honorable.'"
Bai Mao couldn't resist a sardonic retort. "Aren't those grand generals terrified of losing battles?"
The Puppet Heavenly Lord chortled softly into his ear. "Hardly! Those grand generals all maintain personal retinues of elite soldiers. They divert the stipends meant for those two hundred phantom soldiers to fund their own loyal house guards, men desperate enough to become lethal private soldiers. In battle, these house guards charge forward, while the garrison troops trail safely behind."
A light of comprehension dawned on Bai Mao's face. "I see," he declared. "When our people from Gao Family Village arrive, we'll simply introduce them as my personal house guards and private soldiers."
Having reorganized his paltry contingent of troops, he returned to the assembly hall.
He found the assembly of grand generals deep in discussion over their next strategic moves.
A scout stood in the hall, reporting in a clear, resonant voice: "Wang Jiayin's main contingent has fled southwards. Only Zijing Liang and Bai Yuzhu's forces remain loyal to him, their combined strength dwindling to a mere fifty to sixty thousand men."
"As for Chuǎng Wang (Gao Yingxiang), the West Camp Eight Great Kings (Zhang Xianzhong), Lao Huihui (Ma Shouying), Cao Cao, and others, they have all broken off from Wang Jiayin's main body and dispersed in all directions."
Du Wenhuan deliberated for a few moments, then spoke. "Our forces are insufficient to splinter and pursue every individual rebel faction. Ultimately, the Emperor demands only Wang Jiayin's head; the remaining rebel leaders are amenable to pacification. For now, we need only fixate our efforts on Wang Jiayin."
The generals clasped their hands in salute. "As you command!"
With this overarching strategy now decided, the assembled generals knew precisely how to proceed. They would pursue the rebels southwards, turning a blind eye to all other distractions.
Du Wenhuan continued, "When Wang Jiayin's forces broke through the encirclement, over thirty thousand elderly, infirm, women, and children belonging to the rebels were left behind in Hequ County town. Unable to flee alongside the able-bodied rebels, these people now remain within the city walls; what is our course of action concerning them?"
As soon as this question was posed, a collective groan, almost imperceptible, seemed to ripple through the assembly. It was a problem that had plagued them for days.
As military men, their minds converged on a single, brutal solution. That solution, unspoken but understood, was: kill!
Yet, they were not fools. Should anyone be the first to utter that damning word, and the rest complied, the "pacification-first" civil officials would undoubtedly heap all the blame upon that individual, verbally flaying them to their last breath.
This was a thorny dilemma indeed!
It was a challenge even for the astute civil officials, much less for a cadre of military commanders whose administrative competence was, to put it mildly, questionable.
The Puppet Heavenly Lord nudged Bai Mao's cheek gently with its spherical cloth hand and murmured, "Suggest: entrust them to Censor Wu Shen."
Comprehension flashed across Bai Mao's face. He quickly stepped forward, clasped his hands in salute, and declared, "Your humble subordinate has a proposal."
At his proactive move, the generals brightened considerably. Excellent, someone was finally willing to stick their neck out. A convenient target for future blame had presented himself.
Grand General Du Wenhuan, though still visibly seething, unusually managed a strained smile. The sight of such a contorted expression, a peculiar blend of ire and faint amusement, made one wonder how he managed it. "Commander Wang," he prompted, "pray tell, what ingenious solution do you propose?"
As he asked, all the military generals beside him privately egged him on in their minds: "Kill them! Declare their extermination! Be swift! If you utter the words, we shall execute the deed!"
Bai Mao replied, "Did not Censor Wu Shen arrive with a hundred thousand taels of silver, expressly to pacify these very rebels? These thirty thousand captured family members of the rebels should, by all logic, be entrusted to Censor Wu Shen for his disposition."
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