Chapter 28: Boasting of Martial Prowess

After meeting Zhu Cilang’s gaze, Si Qi and Xu Yanqi exchanged a glance and both nodded in agreement. Then, Si Qi gently clapped his hands.

Immediately, several clerks approached. One of them carried a large chest, while the others held trays.

Si Qi opened the chest and took out a finely bound book, smiling as he looked at the thirty-six soldiers present.

In truth, the order of discharge for these soldiers was not based on the severity of their wounds. For this reason, the Quartermaster Department had communicated multiple times with the military hospital.

“By the order of Lord Qin Yiming, I, Si Qi of the Quartermaster Department, hereby announce the commendation documents for the Battle of Dongming. All soldiers, please stand at attention,” Si Qi declared solemnly.

Contagioned by his seriousness, the others became grave as well. Doctor Xie, standing aside, observed that even during the most disciplined moments of the Henan provincial army, the troops had never formed such a precise formation. This was not merely the uniformity of their dress but a visible testament to their rigorous training and strength.

At this moment, Xu Yanqi stood erect, as straight as a javelin.

“Cheng Jie!” Si Qi intoned with solemnity. “By Lord Qin Yiming’s order: Private Cheng Jie of the Linqing Camp displayed great bravery in the Battle of Dongming, having slain two enemy armored soldiers and beheaded four others on the battlefield. I hereby award you the Third-Class Military Merit Medal, along with a certificate of honor to record your merits. Please accept the medal and receive the certificate!”

“I... I... if my lord thinks I fought well, then that is enough. I do not understand these things... this...” Cheng Jie’s face was a mix of excitement and trepidation. He looked at the many gazes fixed upon him, timid yet overwhelmed with joy, as if he might burst with happiness. “I am but a common soldier, unworthy of such...”

Xu Yanqi fixed him with a sharp gaze. “Cheng Jie, I, Xu Yanqi, am a martial scholar of the Ming. Listen well: Lord Qin Yiming says that this medal is like a monument to your merit. You earned it through your courage in battle. Take it! What is there to fear? Are you not a warrior of the Linqing Camp? Do you lack even the smallest shred of courage?”

“Yes... yes, sir!” Taking heart from Xu Yanqi’s words, Cheng Jie drew a deep breath, meeting the various looks—some curious, some admiring—and said, “Thank you, Lord Qin Yiming, thank you Captain Xu, thank you Mr. Si Qi. I humbly accept this honor!”

Seeing this, Xu Yanqi smiled and gestured for Cheng Jie to stand firm. Then he took a medal from a tray adorned with a bright red ribbon and pinned it on Cheng Jie’s chest.

Cheng Jie stared at the medal, which was nearly twice the size of a copper coin, then at the certificate filled with characters he could hardly recognize. Suddenly, his mouth felt dry, and a flame seemed to ignite within his chest, filling him with unprecedented warmth and strength.

“By Lord Qin Yiming’s order: Zong Huijia, Chief Banner Commander of the Shandong Garrison, demonstrated steadfast resolve in the Battle of Dongming. Even as allied forces retreated, he upheld his duties as a soldier, rallying his men to hold the line and ultimately providing critical support for victory. I hereby award you the Second-Class Military Merit Medal, along with a certificate of honor to record your merits. Please accept the medal and receive the certificate!”

Another medal was presented—silver this time, more prestigious than the previous copper one.

As expected, a somewhat frail-looking veteran stepped forward and suddenly broke into tears. “Today, I, Zong Huijia, have brought honor to my family... even if I were to die in battle now, it would all be worth it... worth it indeed...”

In a corner, Doctor Xie watched quietly, silently recording these moments for posterity.

“It may seem like a collapse of ritual and music, yet the reestablishment of ceremony within the army serves to honor the soldiers and bestow glory upon the troops. I must say... I believe this is the right path. Such solemn rites gradually transform soldiers from bandits or mercenaries into a profession worthy of respect. Yet amidst these ceremonies, that legendary figure receives ever greater admiration and even fervent loyalty. Such power and devotion undoubtedly invite boundless speculation...”

...

On the eleventh day of the sixth month in the fifteenth year of the Chongzhen reign of the Great Ming, Zhu Cilang awaited new guests at the camp in Wusheng Town.

This was the Linqing merchant caravan that had come to the Henan battlefield alongside Chang Zhilang. Accompanying the caravan were prominent gentry from Dongming and Puyang.

Indeed, the visitors from Linqing were entirely composed of merchants.

Their presence here was due to a personal letter of invitation from Zhu Cilang himself.

“You may know me only as the Deputy Tax Commissioner of Linqing,” Zhu Cilang said with a smile, addressing the merchants. “Today, I would like to introduce myself by another title... I am also the Deputy Military Supervisor of the Shandong Garrison under the Ming Shandong Provincial Surveillance Commission. I have invited you here to witness, together with me, the valor of the soldiers under my command!”

Having spoken, Zhu Cilang stepped onto a roughly constructed platform. On the platform stood a simple long table, behind which was a single row of chairs. There were no other adornments.

Zhu Cilang took his seat, and on either side stood his subordinates—Chang Zhilang, Si Qi, Liu Sheng, Liu Zhen, and Xu Yanqi. The leading figures from Puyang and Dongming took the two seats to the left. These great families numbered in the thousands, and many were holders of the imperial examination degrees of juren or jinshi. Though respectful of Zhu Cilang—a man without official rank—they were not intimidated, and so occupied the seats confidently.

The merchants exchanged glances before pushing forward two of their eldest and most influential members to take the seats on the right.

With the crowd seated, Zhu Cilang turned and nodded toward the seventeenth squad behind him.

At once, the sound of drums echoed.

Boom, boom, boom...

As the drums beat, Zhu Cilang sat upright, his expression solemn. The other officers adopted similarly serious demeanors.

Tat-tat-tat...

Then came the steady sound of marching feet. Under the watchful eyes of the local gentry and merchants, a formation appeared before them—fourteen men wide, twenty-five men deep.

Three hundred and fifty soldiers marched in unison, their spears catching the morning sun, gleaming coldly. Immediately, murmurs rippled through the assembled gentry and merchants.

“Hmm... these soldiers’ uniforms look very neat. Are these new uniforms?”

“The Linqing troops were recently issued new uniforms; they look exceptionally sharp. And their formation is impeccable—this is the mark of a strong army.”

(To be continued.)