Chapter 571: Sharing It With You
Cheng Xu cheerfully accepted the paper, using his bamboo hat to shield himself from the rain. Then, with a flourish, he signed it, habitually starting with the 'He' radical and almost completing the 'Cheng' character before quickly stopping his brush. He barely managed to write "He Jiu."
However, the radical 'He' and the full character 'He' were indeed written differently.
Wang Tang glanced at the 'He' radical, understanding it was merely a component, yet he saw through it without speaking. With a slight smile, he took the paper back and carefully put it away.
Cheng Xu remarked, "With you managing the accounts, military supplies now require signatures for every entry. Those hoping to embezzle rations won't find it so easy."
Wang Tang smiled. "The Heavenly Lord said our generation is the new wave of intellectuals, while your generation represents the vestiges of the old ways. If we conduct ourselves like our elders, this world will never advance."
Cheng Xu scoffed, "Indirectly insulting your elders, are you? I'll report you to your father when we get back."
Wang Tang's smile widened. "Those were the Heavenly Lord's exact words! Not a single character changed. Even my father would have to listen."
The silver-threaded Heavenly Lord embroidered on his chest chuckled along, "That's right, those were my exact words."
At this, Cheng Xu had no choice but to concede.
Watching from a distance, Ma Xianglin couldn't help but marvel to himself. "Xing Honglang is truly exceptional. She might be a pacified bandit, but her administrative practices are more stringent than the imperial court's."
"The imperial court, meanwhile, is rife with mismanagement: embezzling military rations, illicitly selling warhorses, pocketing wages for phantom soldiers—they've tried every despicable trick in the book. But Xing Honglang's subordinates handle things so professionally. Which side is truly the bandit?"
His wife, Zhang Fengyi, shared the same thought. The couple exchanged a glance, both feeling a profound sense of admiration. "When we return to Wan Shou Zhai, our Shizhu Tujia stronghold, we should thoroughly study these management practices," they silently agreed.
Xing Honglang approached Ma Xianglin and his wife, greeting them with a smile. "Our provisions have arrived. The first delivery includes two hundred baskets of flour and fifty baskets of luncheon meat. Each basket weighs 120 catties, making it thirty thousand catties of food. How many subordinates do you have? Come, quickly claim your share."
Ma Xianglin replied, "I brought three thousand White Pole Soldiers."
"Three thousand?" Xing Honglang mused. "Then I'll allocate sixty baskets of flour and ten baskets of luncheon meat to you first."
Ma Xianglin silently calculated: they were giving him seventy-two hundred catties of flour and twelve hundred catties of meat...
This was no small sum!
Good heavens, in these years of widespread disaster, that amount was simply staggering.
When the White Pole Soldiers marched to the capital to serve the emperor, they first had to raise their own provisions. After their service, when they remained in Shanxi to help suppress bandits on their return journey, Governor Song Tongyin of Shanxi was supposed to supply their food.
Song Tongyin was considered a good official—uncorrupt and diligent in his duties. But he was incredibly stingy with provisions, as if squeezing water from a sponge; you'd press hard to get a little bit out, then press again to get another tiny bit.
The Sichuan White Pole Soldiers had always been hard-pressed when it came to military rations.
He never expected Xing Honglang to give so much, so readily!
Ma Xianglin showed an embarrassed expression. "I'll owe you these provisions for now. When I return to my home in Sichuan, I'll arrange to send some back to you."
Xing Honglang smiled. "No rush, it's a small matter."
Ma Xianglin inquired, "Are these provisions the settlement rations the imperial court provided you?"
He had heard a few days ago that the imperial court dispatched Censor Wu Shen with one hundred thousand taels of silver to pacify bandits, intending to provide them with funds and provisions for land reclamation, purchasing seeds, and cattle. It seemed that one hundred thousand taels indeed made a grand statement; these pacified bandits truly had a heroic air about them.
Xing Honglang shook her head with a smile. "What settlement provisions? Wu Shen is so poor he's crying in Shi Kefa's arms in Xi'an Prefecture!"
Ma Xianglin: "..."
Xing Honglang stated, "These provisions, I earned myself as a salt smuggler."
Ma Xianglin jested, "Is it too late for me to switch to salt smuggling now?"
Zhang Fengyi chided him, "Hey, what foolish talk is that? If word gets out and a civil official hears it, they'll impeach you, and that will cause no end of trouble."
Xing Honglang laughed heartily. "General Ma speaks his mind, I like that, ha ha ha."
Ma Xianglin called for the White Pole Soldiers to carry the provisions. They moved all sixty baskets of flour and ten baskets of luncheon meat that Xing Honglang had allocated to them, first setting up a tarp to shield them from the rain, then carefully lifting the oilcloth covering the bamboo baskets.
"Wow! Snow-white flour."
"This is top-grade fine flour."
"I've never eaten such good flour in my life."
"The flour we ate before was always a bit yellowish."
The White Pole Soldiers let out exclamations of amazement that were almost embarrassing.
One White Pole Soldier lifted the lid of a luncheon meat basket, revealing dozens of individual square boxes. Opening one, he found a perfectly square, neatly cut block of meat inside.
Immediately, a chorus of gulps and swallows echoed nearby.
They had seen this kind of square meat before. In Puzhou and Daning County, they'd watched Xing Honglang's subordinates distribute it to the common folk. They'd observed from the side, inhaling the scent, filled with envy, admiration, and longing. But the White Pole Soldiers maintained strict discipline; they weren't like other corrupt imperial troops.
They wouldn't snatch food from the common people, so they could only watch longingly from the sidelines.
"Now, it's finally our turn!" A White Pole Soldier, holding a square box, laughed heartily, looking up at the sky. "These ten baskets of meat weigh twelve hundred catties. With three thousand White Pole Soldiers, each of us can get almost half a catty!"
"Let me weigh it... hmm... almost two boxes per person!"
The White Pole Soldiers were overjoyed, wiping their mouths: "Meat!"
"Lots of meat!"
A large group of soldiers cheered.
Under the rain shelter, everyone set up their field cooking stoves and started a fire. The Yellow River flowed nearby; they fetched its muddy water to make do. They tossed the entire wooden boxes into the pot to boil, then fished them out, using the boxes as makeshift bowls to eat directly. Truly, a design of utmost convenience.
"It smells so good!"
"I'm starving from the smell!"
"It's been so long since I've had meat."
"I never thought we'd get to eat meat while campaigning."
As they cheered, the three thousand-plus refugees who had followed the army from Daning County watched from a distance, their eyes gleaming with envy and longing. But accustomed to being oppressed, they dared not approach the soldiers to beg for food. They could only watch from afar, not even brave enough to come closer for a whiff of the scent.
Just then, Zheng Daniu walked over, a large basket balanced on his shoulder. With a thump, he set it down before them, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Three thousand refugees, your treatment is the same as the three thousand White Pole Soldiers. We're giving you sixty baskets of flour and ten baskets of luncheon meat. Organize yourselves and send people to the boats to collect them."
The refugees paused, momentarily stunned, then erupted in joy: "Thank you, military sir!"
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