Ming Dynasty 1627

Chapter 163 Zhang Fu, you've been optimized.
Outside Di'anmen, at the Yongwei Camp's large drill ground.

A northerly wind swept in, stirring up dust and causing the large "Ming" banners standing tall on the drill ground to flutter wildly.

Thousands of soldiers, dressed in mandarin duck battle jackets, stood in formation.

"Last place, Liu Ruoxian's team."

A burst of suppressed laughter erupted from the queue.

As is customary, whenever the last person is announced, thunderous laughter erupts in the camp.

This is one of the few sources of joy for the soldiers during their tedious and rigorous training.

Even the second-to-last team will shout at the top of their lungs to mock the team that came in last, just to show that they haven't come in last yet.

However, the laughter today is somewhat different.

Its sound seemed somewhat out of place as soon as it began, scattered and dissipated, and was quickly dispersed by the omnipresent sound of the wind.

A few scattered laughs rang out, but soon fell silent.

Xu Yingyuan walked up to the high platform.

As the chief eunuch of the Imperial Horse Stables, he was not wearing his eye-catching python robe today, but only an ordinary undergarment with a leather belt around his waist, making him look much more capable.

He glanced at the sea of ​​people below the stage but did not speak immediately.

Only when all eyes were on him did he slowly speak:
"As previously stated, there will be an end-of-month assessment. The capable will be promoted, and the incompetent will be demoted. The drills, martial arts, joint training, and written examinations are all real competitions, with no room for compromise."

"The two shi of monthly rations were distributed to everyone the day before yesterday. We called out names and verified identities, and there was not a single penny of embezzlement or deduction."

"Now, if we follow the orders, those who have been dismissed should have nothing to say."

The soldiers below the stage remained silent; no one uttered a sound.

"Those who have been dismissed will each have their own arrangements. Tomorrow morning, they should report to their respective units in the Beijing Garrison according to the articles they received when they left the camp."

Xu Yingyuan paused at this point.

He mimicked His Majesty's manner, letting the silence linger over the training ground for a moment, as if brewing some earth-shattering words.

After thinking for a long time, I still couldn't come up with anything to say.

Those inspiring words seemed to belong only to His Majesty.

When he says it, it always feels like something's missing.

In the end, he could only wave his hand somewhat dejectedly:

"Disperse. Morning exercises will proceed as scheduled tomorrow. His Majesty will come to see you off, so don't disgrace the Brave Guard Battalion."

After saying that, he turned and walked down from the platform, no longer looking at the various expressions on the faces below.

He then called over Sun Yingyuan, Cao Bianjiao, and other battalion commanders, and in a low voice carefully instructed them to guard the camp tonight, to patrol strictly, and to guard against mutiny or riots.

In truth, he didn't understand why His Majesty didn't immediately dismiss these discarded soldiers, but instead made them stay in the camp for another night.

Soldiers are arrogant, fierce, and difficult to tame.

Two thousand people were dismissed, and their resentment was high. If they gathered in one place, things could easily go wrong.

But since His Majesty has given such an order, he will do as he is told.

Today, it is evident that Gao Shiming, Wang Tiqian, and other successors are increasingly favored by His Majesty.

The various deities who used to flock to his doorstep are now gradually becoming fewer and fewer.

Xu Yingyuan's ambition to achieve great things had faded somewhat.

He thought that if he did his job in the Brave Guard Battalion well, he would have enough capital to make a living.

After all, His Majesty spends at least one hour here every day.

However... life has become rather impoverished.

Wang Yongzuo, who was appointed to oversee the Beijing Garrison, was given a truly lucrative post.

A few days ago, he took the lead in donating money to Chengen Temple to make a bell, giving away 700 taels of silver.

I heard that they recently hired someone to survey the feng shui of Xishan again, so it seems they're planning to start building the tomb ahead of schedule.

It's truly enviable.

Xu Yingyuan was making his own calculations.

The Brave Guard Battalion is His Majesty's most prized possession; it cannot be touched.

But surely the four guards of Tengxiang will be alright?
Let's wait and see what happens to Wang Yongzuo. Don't be hasty.

As he pondered this, he went straight back to the Imperial Horse Stables office, the desolate training ground behind him seemingly no longer relevant to him.

……

In the northwest corner of the camp, inside an inconspicuous tent.

The atmosphere was not harmonious.

Zhang Fu and his four soldiers worked together to remove their armor, then lay sprawled out on their bunks, none of them speaking, their eyes fixed on the dim tent ceiling.

They were one of the members of "Liu Ruoxian's team," and one of the two thousand people who were eliminated.

Actually, they weren't always last in the past; they occasionally managed to get into the top fifty.

But after receiving the results today, everyone was disheartened and gave up, which is why they came in last place.

Suddenly, the tent flap was flung open, and a gust of cold wind carrying bits of grass rushed in.

It was Zhang the skinny guy who came back with water.

Without a word, he placed the cooking pot on the stove, squatted down, skillfully opened the iron door under the stove, and poked at the honeycomb briquettes.

Before long, a pungent smell of coal smoke filled the tent.

This familiar smell, ironically, made the lifeless crowd seem to come alive.

Li Mazi, Sun Pangzi, Chen Jieba, and several others unconsciously sat up and silently gathered around the stove to warm themselves.

But still no one spoke.

Corporal Zhang Fu stared intently at the orange-red flames that occasionally shot out from the cracks in the bottom of the pot.

After a long while, he sighed heavily, got up and returned to his bunk. He rummaged under his pillow for a long time and pulled out a small piece of tea brick wrapped neatly in oil paper.

He went back to the stove, unwrapped the tea, and threw the tea brick into the pot.

"We're parting ways today, but we have no wine, so let's use tea instead." His voice was a little hoarse.

This sentence was like a switch, finally allowing the air inside the tent to flow again.

"Hey, Zhang Tou, you've really gone all out today!"

Fatty Sun grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth, and smiled somewhat reluctantly, "You've been keeping this tea brick for over ten days, treating it like a precious treasure."

“Of course,” Li Mazi chimed in, his face pockmarked and his smile making him look even more ferocious.
"This is a tea brick personally bestowed by His Majesty. If our team hadn't been lucky enough to win a prize earlier in the month, we wouldn't even have had the chance to smell it."

Once the conversation started, everyone chimed in, and the atmosphere in the tent finally eased a bit.

“I’m telling you, going to the Beijing garrison isn’t such a bad thing,” Zhang the skinny man said sullenly as he poked at the stove. “Training and grueling here every day, my bones are practically falling apart. I heard that for those who stayed behind, the winter training period was extended from November 15th to December 1st. Damn it, is that even a human being’s life?”

“Yes, yes,” Fatty Sun quickly chimed in, “Once you’re in the Beijing garrison, you just have to show up every day, that’s all you have to do, right? Life is much more leisurely than here.”

"I just don't know if we'll still be grouped together once we get to the Beijing garrison," Zhang the Skinny said with some worry. "I only trust Zhang the Head; I wouldn't feel at ease with anyone else." "Exactly!" Li the Pockmarked slapped his thigh. "Everyone knows our squad's capabilities. If we hadn't been held back by the other squads, we wouldn't be in this situation!"

"Keep your voice down!" Zhang Fu glared at him.

Li Mazi shrank his neck, muttered a few more curses under his breath, and then fell silent.

The tent fell silent for a moment.

"Sigh, it's such a waste of this real monthly ration." Someone sighed softly, "Two shi (a unit of dry measure), not a single grain of rice was missing."

These words were like a needle, piercing through the facade of ease that everyone was putting on.

“Don’t even mention two shi,” Li Mazi snorted. “When I was in Datong Town, the official word was eight dou, but if we actually got six dou, we were lucky if that corrupt official was kind. As for holiday bonuses, forget about them.”

These words immediately resonated with many.

“Eight dou is considered good!” another soldier exclaimed excitedly. “Back in Yizhou, it was common for us to be owed wages. If we received half a year’s worth of rations, we were lucky! The lives of military households were worse than those of beggars!”

Everyone started to "compete in misery," complaining about the rotten practices of military garrisons and garrisons in various places withholding soldiers' pay, their words filled with malice.

As they chatted, the water in the pot finally boiled, and the aroma of tea mixed with the steam filled the air.

Zhang Fu took out several large, rough porcelain bowls and gave each person a bowl of piping hot tea.

Everyone held their bowls and carefully took a sip; a warm current instantly flowed from their throats to their limbs.

"Good tea! It's damn good tea!" Fatty Sun smacked his lips, looking completely intoxicated. "It's mellow and rich, and it makes my whole body feel comfortable."

"Yes, it's much better than the tea dust we usually drink." Li Mazi nodded in agreement. "This tea is authentic, yes, it's authentic!"

Zhang the Skinny followed the example of the scholars, taking a small sip, then closing his eyes and pondering for a long time before finally managing to utter, "This tea, when you drink it, leaves a slightly sweet taste in your throat. Is that what they call 'aftertaste' in storybooks?"

"Yes, yes, yes! It's the aftertaste!" Fatty Sun slapped his thigh, as if he had found a kindred spirit. "I knew it! This taste is so different from the bitter tea we usually drink! Look at this tea soup, it's golden yellow and so clear, it's obviously good stuff!"

Li Mazi brought the bowl to his nose and took a deep sniff, saying with a profound expression, "Not only that, you can smell the fragrance, it's like flowers, it seeps into your heart. This is called... this is called 'lingering fragrance on your teeth'!"

The crowd's praise made Zhang Fu feel much happier.

He picked up the teacup and tasted it again, and immediately felt that this tea was indeed the best of the best.

Just then, Chen the Stutterer, who hadn't said much, suddenly spoke up.

"You...you all think...His Majesty...would he...reorganize...the Beijing Garrison?"

Everyone turned to look at him.

With so many people staring at him, he became even more nervous, and his face turned bright red.

"Your Majesty... Your Majesty... Ying... Ying..."

"Brilliant and mighty!" Fatty Sun blurted out.

These four words, like a spark, instantly ignited the emotions throughout the entire tent.

"How could we not reorganize?" Li Mazi slapped his thigh, his eyes wide open. "Does His Majesty not know how rotten the Beijing Garrison is? If the Beijing Garrison were reorganized to be like our Yongwei Battalion, wouldn't we be able to eat two shi of monthly rations again?"

"That's right! We'll have meat every meal, and we'll even get bonuses during holidays!" Fatty Sun rubbed his hands excitedly.

“You wish,” Zhang the Skinny poured cold water on everyone’s hopes. “I heard from other soldiers who were transferred from the Beijing Garrison that the Beijing Garrison has a full 120,000 men, most of whom are paid one shi (a unit of dry measure) of rations per month!”

"Those who can eat two bushels of grain? They are the elite soldiers selected from thousands of people, and at most there are only ten thousand of them."

These words slightly dampened the spirits of everyone in the tent.

Having eaten two whole bushels of grain, eating another bushel of grain just doesn't taste quite as good.

But Li Mazi immediately retorted, "What do you know! Haven't you heard the rumors about the 'battle for land and people' outside?"

"The eunuchs stationed at the camp said that our Ming Dynasty has a growing population and there isn't enough land to cultivate. If we don't seize territory, everyone will starve to death! How can we seize territory without training 120,000 capable soldiers?"

"Exactly!" Fatty Sun, having found his anchor again, immediately chimed in, "That Liaodong, that Mongol territory, and to the south... I heard it's called... Dali! Such a vast area, how long would it take to conquer it? How can we manage without soldiers?"

Zhang the Skinny added excitedly, "And there's more! And there's more! His Majesty's coronation rewards haven't been distributed yet!"

His eyes were fervent as he looked around at everyone, his tone urgent: "If the funds are distributed after the reorganization of the Beijing Garrison is completed next year, it will be real silver, and no one will dare to embezzle it! That will be a real tael of silver!"

"Yes! The coronation reward!"

These words made the atmosphere in the tent even more enthusiastic than before.

“That’s right! How could His Majesty, a born sage, possibly watch the Beijing Garrison rot away like this!” Li Mazi couldn’t help but stand up, rubbing his hands excitedly.

"I bet it'll be next year!" Zhang the Skinny got excited, lowered his voice, and said mysteriously, "At the latest, next spring. Yongchang Year One, a new name, auspicious! We'll definitely make our move!"

"The first year of Yongchang..." the crowd murmured, their eyes shining.

That's definitely a good omen!
"We'd better look out for each other then," Corporal Zhang Fu said in a deep voice, looking at everyone. "The Beijing Garrison is a dangerous place, and we're all from different garrisons. We won't know anyone there, so we need to make sure we're not taken advantage of. Once we get there, we need to stay in touch, keep in touch, and stick together as one!"

"Zhang Tou is right!"

"That's right, anyone who dares to bully us should first test their fists!"

Zhang Fu nodded and said, "Fatty Sun, go and get the food. Let's eat and discuss things over the time we're in the capital garrison. We can arrange a time to get together again after we enter the capital."

Fatty Sun chuckled, "Alright, that cook is my second uncle. I'm on the list today, so you'd better give me a few extra pieces of meat to console me. Brothers, I'll be right back!"

……

The night is getting darker.

After eating and drinking, he showered her with flattery.

In his excitement, Zhang Fu recited all the imperial edicts he had heard.

"Promoted to General in three years!" "The Emperor's personal guard!" "Whoever takes the heads of the four great princes will be granted the title of Duke!"

The group chatted for most of the day by the firelight and over the endless brews of fine imperial tea, until they were reprimanded by the night patrol soldiers and gradually stopped.

Zhang Fu got up and sealed most of the stove opening, then got up again and lifted the tent flap a crack to let some of the cold wind in.

This is something we can't be careless about.

A few days ago, a squad of soldiers from another battalion, because they burned coal for warmth at night and kept their tents tightly closed, ended up falling silent all night.
When they were discovered the next day, all five of them had strange smiles on their faces and were already frozen.

Since then, the eunuchs in each camp have repeatedly emphasized that the squad leader is solely responsible for the nighttime stove fire, and that the squad leader will be held accountable if anything goes wrong.

Everyone lay down, and soon snoring filled the air.

Zhang Fu lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

One moment he was thinking about the affairs of the Beijing garrison, the next he was thinking about provisions and pay, and then he was thinking about the matter of the General and the Duke.

Amidst his turbulent thoughts, he seemed to hear faint sobbing.

He was startled and took a few steps to peek out of the tent to listen carefully, but it seemed to be just the sound of the wind.

He looked around.

The night wind swept across the entire camp, plunging the world into darkness.

Only the lanterns hanging on the watchtower swayed violently in the wind, flickering on and off.

He sighed almost imperceptibly, pulled his head back, and curled up under the covers.

Let's go to sleep... His Majesty will be coming to see us off tomorrow.

He didn't understand what a farewell was, but he had experienced the beating from the military rod once and never wanted to experience it a second time.

(End of this chapter)