1848 Great Qing Charcoal Burners

Chapter 296 What right do you have to slander someone's innocence?

The three towns of Wuhan are essentially one entity. The accents of Jiangxia and Hanyang are very similar, both belonging to the Hubei sub-dialect of the Hubei-Guangdong dialect of Southwestern Mandarin.

Although Jiangxia and Hanyang were historically two parallel counties with their own administrative and cultural centers due to the obstruction of the Yangtze River, this independence fostered subtle linguistic differentiation.

A slight difference can still be detected between the two dialects upon close listening, but this subtle difference is almost negligible.

The tenant farmers and farmhands in Hanyang and the new recruits in the Shahu camp in Jiangxia had no communication barriers and easily hit it off.

Before the play began, the tenant farmers and farmhands from Hanyang, having finished their meal, started talking with the new recruits from Jiangxia in Shahu.

“Brother Dabang, you’re also from Hubei. Why did you cut off your queue and become a soldier of the Northern Palace, mixing with those Guangxi and Hunan guys and working for the Prince of Pengbei?”

Zhang Heiya, a farmhand from Hanyang, thought the young man from Jiangxia who had taken him to the porridge stall earlier was a good person. Looking at the young man from Jiangxia with stubble hair beside him, he voiced his question.

In reality, less than half of the people in the North Palace kept their hair short.

The requirements for hairstyles in the North Palace are relatively lenient.

Except for officers and soldiers in the army, students in schools, and craftsmen and apprentices in arsenals, who were required to keep their hair short.

As long as other personnel do not wear queues, the officials of the Northern Palace will not interfere with their other hairstyles.

However, outsiders still habitually refer to the Northern Palace forces as "short-haired" to distinguish them from other forces within the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom.

Not only did the Qing government officially call it that, but the common people also habitually called it that in private.

“I used to be a farmhand, just like you. His Highness gave each of us five acres of medium-sized land, so I signed up for the army,” Wu Dabang replied truthfully.

"You joined the army voluntarily, or were you conscripted?" Zhang Heiya looked incredulous, thinking that Wu Dabang was lying to him.

Good men don't become soldiers, and good iron isn't used for nails. These are not peaceful times, and being a soldier doesn't mean you can just eat and drink; it means you have to go to the battlefield and fight.

Zhang Heiya felt that no one would willingly become a soldier under such circumstances; most would be coerced into it.

"Being a Holy Soldier of the Northern Palace means you get food and clothing provided, which saves your family enough rations for one person. You also get a monthly military salary of one string of cash. Many people want to be a Holy Soldier but can't." As he said this, Wu Dabang, who had fought his way through the crowd of applicants to become a Holy Soldier of the Northern Palace, couldn't help but puff out his chest with pride.

"Bullshit! Food and clothing provided, plus a string of cash a month? Dream on! Even the Green Standard Army soldiers of the government might not get a string of cash!" Sitting behind Zhang Heiya, Wang Ergou, who had been urging Zhang Heiya to take the grain from Wang Shukun's family and had come to Wuchang to "petition for orders," interrupted the two men's conversation.

“Zhang Heiya, your family of six all depend on working as a long-term laborer for Master Wang to make a living. Without Master Wang to give you work, your whole family will be starving!”

"How come it's different from what Master Wang said?" Zhang Heiya, still doubtful, dared not speak loudly any longer. He just lowered his head and, after a while, seeing that Wang Ergou's attention was no longer on him, he muttered softly, "Did the Northern King really not just take the land and distribute it only to those Guangxi and Hunan people? You Jiangxia people also got land?"

“If I’m the only one lying to you, do you think everyone in Jiangxia is lying to you?” Wu Dabang said confidently.

"The new soldiers of Jiangxia in this military camp are all from farming families. If you don't trust me, just ask other people."

Don't let that sly fellow instigate and provoke us. That guy has been talking badly about our Northern Palace ever since he entered the military camp, smearing our Northern Palace. I've disliked him for a long time.

I see you have some strength. Once the land is divided, wouldn't it be better to use that strength on your own land? Why bother watching the landlord's face, living in fear every year, with no work to do and no rice to cook?
"Other people's land is ultimately theirs to manage; only your own land is yours to decide, and only then can you secure your family's livelihood."

Owning your own land means having control over your family's livelihood.

Wu Dabang's words greatly impressed Zhang Heiya.

However, this feeling of attraction was quickly suppressed by the powerful figure of Master Wang.

Just then, the rapid drumbeats and the solemn shouts of the holy soldiers reached their ears.

The noisy crowd gradually quieted down. Although some people were still whispering and talking amongst themselves, it did not affect the normal performance of the play on the reviewing stand.

The drill ground was packed with new recruits from Jiangxia and tenant farmers and farmhands from Hanyang.

The new recruits from Jiangxia, dressed in clean and presentable cross-collar cotton-padded coats, habitually straightened their backs and sat upright to watch the performance, occasionally peeking out as if to see where their instructors were.

The tenant farmers and farmhands in Hanyang were dressed in tattered coats stuffed with reeds, so dirty that their original color was unrecognizable. Their hands were tucked into their sleeves, and their eyes were usually filled with numbness and fear.

As soon as the gongs and drums sounded, many people trembled in fright and instinctively tried to shrink back.

The first play to be performed was "Li Guangde, the Landlord".

On the stage, Li Guangde, dressed in a silk mandarin jacket and wearing a melon-shaped hat, and his lackeys began to speak. Their arrogant and domineering voices pierced the cold air.

Li Guangde and his henchmen forced the actor playing the old tenant farmer to pay rent. The abacus beads clicked loudly, each sound like a hammer blow to the hearts of the audience.

At first, there was only deathly silence.

Only heavy, suppressed breathing filled the crowd.

Their eyes widened. What they were seeing on stage was not a play; it was clearly a scene from the very day they had just experienced.

Zhang Heiya seemed to hear again the harsh, cold laughter of the Wang family steward, saying that he would never be able to repay the debt he owed in his next life.

Emotions began to build. In the deathly silence, he could hear the grinding of teeth and see the slight trembling of some people around him.

It wasn't because of the cold, but because of hatred, because the deepest humiliation hidden in one's heart was brutally exposed and laid bare on the stage.

When the "landlord" on the stage gave the order, the lackeys rushed up like wolves, snatched the bag of grain that symbolized survival, and forcibly dragged away the wailing "daughter." At that moment, the taut string snapped, and someone finally broke the silence.

"what!"

From the crowd, a withered old tenant farmer suddenly let out a mournful wail that sounded inhuman. He staggered forward a few steps, his dark, rough fingers pointing fiercely at the stage, tears and snot streaming down his face: "Heavens above! This is how Master Gao took away my youngest daughter!"

He cried out and almost collapsed to the ground, only to be held up by those around him.

"My mother, that's how she starved to death." Zhang Heiya recalled that in the eighteenth year of the Daoguang Emperor's reign, in order to save enough food for his father and several children, she suffocated his two younger siblings at night and then secretly hanged herself.

The older children survived to this day on the food rations saved from the deaths of their younger siblings and their mother.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but feel a lump in his throat, but he still suppressed his emotions and dared not vent them as boldly as Jiang Xia, the new soldier beside him.

Just then, the plot took a sudden turn.

The sound of gongs and drums grew more intense, and a group of Northern Palace Holy Soldiers, dressed in cross-collar military robes and wielding sharp blades, descended like divine soldiers, defeating Liu Guangde's family, his lackeys, and several Qing soldiers so thoroughly that they knelt down and begged for mercy.

The entire room fell silent instantly. Everyone held their breath, their eyes wide with tears, staring in disbelief at this triumphant scene.

Zhang Heiya and several quick-thinking young tenant farmers and farmhands quickly realized that this was not a play, but a real event.

That's exactly how the Liu family, led by Master Liu Guangde, in Hanyang Prefecture came to their demise.

Zhang Heiya thought to himself, "If only the Wang family of Caidian would also perish."

Immediately afterwards, a huge cloth painting was slowly unfurled by the North Palace soldiers, who then stepped down from the stage to show the audience the scene depicted on the painting.

The painting depicts a scene of "Land to the Tillers," with neat fields, abundant harvests, and everyone having their own house, clothes, and food. The smiles on the faces of the people in the painting almost overflow the canvas.

Peng Gang, who was not far away, quietly observed the reactions of the tenant farmers and laborers in Hanyang whose land had been taken away.

The publicity campaign did not achieve the results Peng Gang had expected.

Of the group of tenant farmers and laborers from Hanyang, less than half were emotionally charged. The remaining half seemed to distrust the Northern Palace, were born timid and numb, and feared their hometown landlords, worried about being remembered and reported and retaliated against upon returning home. They remained timid and cowardly.

Sure enough, the braid on your head is easy to cut, but the braid in your heart is hard to cut.

It's not even halfway done, at least it has some effect.

Peng Gang consoled himself with this thought.

As soon as one play ended and the second one began, some unruly lackeys of the Hanyang gentry started causing trouble, throwing things onto the reviewing stand and shouting that they hadn't come to watch the play, but to demand an explanation.

Peng Gang gave He Qingfeng and Li Qi a wink.

The three men understood each other and, leading fully armed instructors from the Shahu Camp and the Second Regiment, charged into the crowd. They identified faces or acted on reports from the Jiangxia recruits, dragging out the henchmen of the Hanyang gentry hidden among the crowd and torturing and interrogating them on the spot.

"Why are you arresting me! The Northern Palace's holy soldiers are bullying the innocent! Outsiders are bullying us Hubei people! Fellow Hubei people! Are you just going to stand by and watch these Hunanese and Guangxi men humiliate us?"

Wang Ergou shouted loudly as he was carried out by two strong Northern Palace soldiers like a little chick.

The new recruits from Jiangxia, Hubei, who had already been assigned land, simply ignored Wang Ergou's words.

However, a small number of tenant farmers and farmhands in Hanyang believed Wang Ergou's words, and a slight commotion broke out in the crowd.

As two companies of heavily armed and menacing officers from the training battalion entered the city to the beat of drums, the imperial court fired its guns, and the slight commotion among the crowd immediately subsided.

"On what grounds? On what grounds? On what grounds? On what grounds? Because you gathered a crowd and caused trouble in public, on what grounds? Because you are the lackeys and henchmen of the gentry in Hanyang!" Li Qi, who had noticed Wang Ergou when he was in Hanyang, shouted angrily.

"What 'lackeys and henchmen'? I don't understand, what gives you the right to slander someone's innocence?!" Although Wang Ergou was already somewhat guilty after being exposed by Li Qi, he still remained defiant.

Li Qi was too lazy to waste words with Wang Ergou and his ilk. He was ordered to directly use the Great Memory Restoration Technique on these lackeys of the Hanyang gentry to help them recover their memories.

These lackeys and cronies of the Hanyang gentry were inherently weak-willed. Many of them had only witnessed their companions being tortured, and before it was their turn, they spilled everything out like beans from a bamboo tube.

"I've already confessed everything. Please, holy soldiers, forgive my wickedness and let me go. I'm just a poor man. I've heard that the Northern King is benevolent and doesn't make things difficult for the poor." Wang Ergou, now completely devoid of his previous arrogance, pleaded bitterly.

"I came here out of necessity. The lives of my entire family are in Master Wang's hands."

"Now you know fear and beg for mercy? Where did that arrogant spirit go?" Li Qi slapped Wang Ergou's head hard and mocked.

"It is true that the Northern King does not make things difficult for honest, poor, and kind people, but you are not honest and kind, so you are not among them." Peng Gang rode past this group of henchmen of the Hanyang gentry and pronounced their death sentence.

"Execute them all on the spot according to the law!"

Not long after, He Qingfeng organized two companies of Jiangxia recruits. Under the supervision of the instructors, the Jiangxia recruits in the musket company first carried out gun executions.

After the cannon blasts, the Jiangxia recruits of the long spear company stabbed the bodies with their long spears to ensure that these lackeys and henchmen of the Hanyang gentry were thoroughly dead.

"I am Peng Gang, the King of the North. Didn't you want me to grant your request? Well, your wish has been granted. I am right here now! What request do you want? Come before me and say it out loud!"

After the execution, Peng Gang, surrounded by more than thirty cavalrymen, came to the front of the crowd, looked around at the huge, surging crowd, and shouted a question.

Peng Gang's loud shout sent a shiver down the spines of the Hanyang tenant farmers and laborers who had come to petition against the "Land to the Tillers Act."

The corpses on the execution ground, still oozing blood, were still warm, and the air in the Shahu camp was thick with the stench of blood.

These terrified tenant farmers and farmhands from Hanyang no longer dared to plead with Peng Gang to withdraw the "Land to the Tiller" law implemented in Hanyang.

All the tenant farmers and farmhands in Hanyang lowered their heads and remained silent, none of them willing to be the one to stand up for them.

“Very good! You are all honest and kind-hearted people. Since no one has stepped forward to volunteer, I will assume that you have all been influenced and support the ‘Land to the Tiller’ Act. The ‘Land to the Tiller’ Act is the fundamental policy of our Northern Palace, and there is no room for argument. Those who oppose it will suffer the same fate as them.” Peng Gang pointed his whip at the corpses on the execution ground and emphasized.

"Since you're here, continue to enjoy the opera and listen to your fellow townsmen from Jiangxia about the 'Land to the Tiller' law and what its benefits are. Don't continue to be deceived and used as a tool by the local gentry."

After speaking, Peng Gang ordered the propaganda team to continue playing music and then perform the plays on the playlist.

(End of this chapter)