The struggle for the throne during the Jiajing reign

Chapter 147 Beibei

Hu Zongxian sat back down on the bench with his empty bowl in his hand. His eyes shone brightly beneath his thick eyebrows, and most of his previous frustration had dissipated. Three thousand taels of silver, plus the merits of the general's memorial, would indeed allow him to jump a few ranks.

"This is a timely help!" Hu Zongxian expressed his gratitude to General Zhao without hesitation.

The commander was quite satisfied. Usually, when the censor came, it was the usual practice to first intimidate him and then give him a treat when he was about to leave. Four or five hundred taels of silver would be enough.

It cost a bit more this time, but this Hu Zongxian is indeed quite bold and capable, and he seems to be a clever and not pedantic person. People like him are most likely to rise to the top, so it was worth the expense.

"I will always remember General Zhao's kindness and will repay it in the future." Hu Zongxian feigned regret: "When I first arrived, I was too serious, which made things difficult for the General and everyone else."

"Not at all. You are a wise man. We guard the frontier, where the land is bitterly cold and barren. We risk our lives day and night to defend against the Tatar cavalry. We can manage on our own, but we must also do our best to secure some wealth for our descendants so that they don't have to suffer here."

The rules above are rigid, but we people are flexible; everyone has their own path. You're not just someone who uses pen and ink to impeach petty officials; you're a true hero who dares to single-handedly storm a chaotic camp. All the brothers admire you.

After saying that, he called out to the door, and four soldiers took turns carrying in six vermilion lacquered wooden boxes and a small box. Commander Zhang stepped forward and opened one of them, and inside were neatly stacked silver ingots, gleaming with a cold white luster.

"The total is three thousand two hundred taels of silver. Three thousand taels is the general's travel expenses, and two hundred taels is a token of our appreciation for Censor Hu. We hope you won't find it too much."

No one dislikes having too much money, especially when they are short of cash. However, this was a bit too much for him, so Hu Zongxian didn't go forward immediately. He watched it silently for a while first.

Commander Zhang didn't urge him. That's just how scholars are; they all have a hurdle at the beginning, but they'll get through it.

Soon, Hu Zongxian picked up his wine bowl, filled Zhang Qianhu's bowl as well, and then drank his own bowl in one gulp.

"Good!" Commander Zhang also drank it all in one gulp, and then had the silver loaded into the cart.

Now that the two were truly on the same side, things that were previously difficult to talk about and required concealment became much easier to discuss.

Hu Zongxian asked, "I heard that a group of Northern barbarian merchants were detained just now?"

Zhang Qianhu nodded: "Half of them are Han Chinese, here to do some business, which is nothing unusual. But suddenly the higher-ups ordered that Anda sent a lot of spies to infiltrate the caravan and gather intelligence, so they detained them first and haven't had time to interrogate them yet."

As for the goods they brought for trade, they were naturally confiscated, since it wasn't them who were lacking anything.

No matter how many die or how much is robbed, the north will still have to continue sending caravans to exchange for supplies to take back to the chiefs and nobles.

"After I return to the capital, I will have to report to the Censorate. In addition to having me inspect the two towns, the Right Vice Censor-in-Chief also has the task of investigating the current situation of the Tatars."

"Simple, you can go and question them anytime." Commander Zhang laughed straightforwardly, "If anyone refuses to talk, just torture them. Merchants are all spineless and easy to question."

To prevent collusion, the imperial inspectors were required to return to the capital to report after a maximum of one year in the provinces, and the Censorate would conduct an inspection on their return journey.

Since he cannot disclose the specific details of corruption at Xuanda University, he must have other reports to submit; otherwise, if he is completely ignorant of the situation, it would be dereliction of duty.

Only after passing the test can one continue to spend money to pull strings.

After the meal, Zhang Qianhu, still a bit tipsy, went back home. Hu Zongxian, on the other hand, sat for a while, drank some coarse tea, and then sobered up. The clerk and two junior officials who had come with him then entered.

The four of them together constituted a standard censorate team. Judging from their complexions, they had drunk quite a bit and received their due benefits.

"Go down and sober up. Come with me in two hours for questioning."

"Yes."

Two hours passed in the blink of an eye. As the sun slanted behind the border wall, the sound of the changing of the guard gong, along with the shouts of the soldiers, drifted from afar.

Hu Zongxian, with the help of a minor official, changed into his worn-out official robes and was led by a centurion to the earthen prison where the merchant caravan was held.

The so-called earthen prison was a converted cellar used for storing grain in the garrison. The walls were made of rammed earth, and when you pushed open the door, a smell of mold mixed with blood rushed out. There were some damp straw piled up in the corner.

The dozen or so caravan members sat in two groups. The Han Chinese huddled on the east side, while several Tatars with braided hair and fur coats leaned against the west side stone wall. Their faces were all wounded and ashen. When they saw someone enter, they all looked up, their eyes filled with fear and wariness.

After the clerk brought a stool for Hu Zongxian to sit on, he brought another one for the scribe. Then he squatted down and let the scribe put the notebook on his back. He softened the pen tip with the tip of his tongue and then prepared to take notes.

"Imperial Censor Hu, your men are ready."

Hu Zongxian's gaze was cold: "Who's in charge?"

No one dared to answer. The centurion guarding the door cursed impatiently, "You son of a bitch, didn't you hear what the Imperial Censor said? Don't you want your tongue anymore?!"

"It's a petty person, and the petty person is the leader."

A middle-aged Han Chinese man wearing a gray cotton-padded jacket and sporting a goatee walked up, bent over, knelt down, and kowtowed: "This humble Liu Er kowtows to Your Excellency the Censor."

Hu Zongxian glanced at the Tatars again, who were all thin and frail: "What's your relationship with them?"

"It doesn't matter. They're just here to sell horses and sheepskins. I'll take a cut."

"You certainly know how to do business."

Liu Er's face was covered in bruises: "I wouldn't dare. It's just to make a living. The Tatars are people too. They also need to eat and wear clothes. The snow this winter was too heavy. They couldn't survive. The horses and sheepskins they brought were all the possessions of their small tribe. Therefore, they refused to sell them directly to the smaller ones. They wanted to sell a few more bushels of grain to save their lives."

How heavy is the snow in the north?

"It's huge, a once-in-a-decade white disaster. There are many places that are impossible to enter. If a person jumps in, they won't even be able to see their head. Only a tall and mighty person like the Imperial Censor can avoid being buried."

This crude flattery had no effect on Hu Zongxian. He asked the Tatars watching, "Can you understand my language?"

"Dot—dot, horse—hides in exchange for—food, I—go back—"

Seeing how difficult it was, Hu Zongxian continued to ask Liu Er, "Which tribe are they from? Can you speak their language?"

"I know a little. They are a small tribe of fifty or sixty people, without a proper leader. I stumbled upon them in a mountain gully. Most of their cattle and sheep had frozen to death. According to them, they were originally a tribe in the west, but their leader was killed and their grasslands were annexed by Anda Khan. They fled all the way here—"

Just then, someone came in from outside and whispered a few words in the centurion's ear.

The centurion stared at Liu Er with a dangerous look: "You old codger, you're really bold, you've hidden yourself very well."

Tell me, why was the carriage floor double-layered and the axles hollow? How much contraband did you smuggle up northwards?

Liu Er hurriedly shouted, "Innocent! I bought this little carriage from someone else. I really didn't know anything about it!"

The centurion walked in and kicked him over: "Injustice? I've been out there for over ten years, what kind of shady tricks haven't I seen? The car floor is made of double-layered plywood, used to store sulfur and saltpeter, right? The axle is hollowed out to store iron rods, isn't that right?"

Since the imperial court completely closed the border trade eight years ago, the north has been lacking everything, especially iron. The pots and pans have long been broken, and they have tried every means to patch them up and make them usable. Most small tribes don't even have a complete iron pot anymore, and they have started to use the old method of storing water in the skin and cooking meat with stones.

Their cavalry's arrowheads were made of bone, and their swords and spears were heavily rusted. As for other necessities, the shortages were even more severe: cotton, salt, tea, and medicinal herbs—

Liu Er, trembling, patted his chest: "This is for General Zhao of Sanguan Town—"

Before he could finish speaking, he was kicked in the mouth again. Hu Zongxian remained unfazed, and the clerk stopped writing early on, so that sentence would not be recorded.

"Alright, I don't care what you smuggled, I just want news from the north."

"7

"Then—can you save my life?"

"If you have important information, then of course you won't die."

Having said all that, Liu Er was actually in despair, but if he didn't speak up, he would be tortured, unable to live or die, so why bother?

"I told you, it was Altan Khan who promised Lin Taiji Hua ten times the profit, and sent me with refined iron and sulfur."

The term "Taiji" originally referred to the descendants of the Golden Family. During the Mongol Empire, the crown prince was called Hong Taiji, his sons were called Taiji, and his sons-in-law were called Tabunang.

"What about the silver and goods you earned? You didn't bring them all back, you hid them outside, didn't you?" The centurion asked impatiently. Liu Er gave a location, which he had planned to bring back to the Ming Dynasty in batches later, but he hadn't been lucky.

Hu Zongxian then asked, "There are definitely more than just your group involved in smuggling."

"Yes, what we have is nothing, but it's so scarce. Every little bit helps."

"With such a large quantity, what does Anda intend to do?"

"I heard from Lin Taiji's close aides that last month, Anda Khan summoned all the tribal leaders under his command to a meeting. He said that he could not survive any longer. When autumn comes and the grass turns yellow and the horses are fat, the whole tribe will go south to find food. He not only wants to rob ironware and grain, but also wants to force us to open the border trade."

The clerk's pen trembled. Hu Zongxian's gaze fell on the centurion, but the man didn't take it seriously at all and laughed, "They can't survive year after year, they plunder every year, and they try to force trade every year. It's nothing new."

"Is there anything else to say?" Hu Zongxian instructed the clerk, "Bring some wine and food."

"It's good to be able to die well-fed," Liu Er thought. Fortunately, he was a cunning rabbit with three burrows. He could tell you about one place, but there were two other places where gold and silver were hidden. Only his two sons knew about one of them, so it wasn't like he had done all the work for someone else for nothing.

As for leaking information about Altan Khan, he was just a businessman.

"This white plague killed many cattle and sheep, and all the tribes are starving. Many small tribes have already rebelled and gone to the east to seek refuge with Kuden Khan."

Anda Khan, enraged, smashed his wine cup, declaring that if he didn't bring those traitors back, he was no longer a descendant of Genghis Khan.

Kuden Khan, the legitimate heir of the Golden Family, commanded the left-wing army, but his power had been surpassed by Altan Khan on the right wing.

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