Chapter Nine: Preparations for the Southward Journey

[Thanks to the reader Chu Longhua for the generous reward~]

With such careful arrangements, the monthly income of over a thousand taels from these properties was enough to build a thriving House of Qin. Of the remaining fifty thousand taels, aside from the ten thousand offered in filial piety to his mother, Zhu Cilang allocated the rest entirely to the military fund.

Given the vastness of this fortune, Zhu Cilang naturally needed someone trustworthy like Si En to oversee it. Moreover, he easily purchased several residences near the Qin estate in Chengqing Lane, expanding the grounds to house even more people—such as those he brought in from the capital garrison.

Fortunately, apart from a dozen elderly and infirm craftsmen left behind, most of the artisans from the workshops decided to follow Zhu Cilang south. Otherwise, the new arrivals from the capital garrison would have been hard-pressed to find accommodation.

Still, with so many old retainers, Zhu Cilang had to instruct Si Qi to lead the household staff from Chengqing Lane ahead to Tongzhou. Si Qi was to organize the fleet there and wait for Zhu Cilang’s main party to arrive before proceeding together.

The craftsmen themselves had no complaints about following Zhu Cilang. To them, the capital was merely a place to escape famine. It was clear that only Master Zhu Cilang could truly free them from hunger and poverty—not the capital, that cold, vast city where corpses were found daily on the streets.

Counting the craftsmen and their families, there were more than a hundred people living in the residence at Chengqing Lane.

But if one thought these were all who would follow Zhu Cilang south, they would be underestimating him. Let us not forget the Right Vanguard of the Five Armies Camp from the capital garrison.

This unit, which had caused an uproar at the Imperial Academy, was spared punishment just as Zhu Cilang had promised. Their official crimes were indeed absolved. Yet, no one in the court would trust soldiers who had taken part in a mutiny—not their commanders, comrades, nor even their own families.

At this time, Ma Shaoyu, overseeing the downsizing of the garrison, assigned the entire quota of six thousand dismissed soldiers to the Right Vanguard of the Five Armies Camp. All at once, the soldiers found themselves without employment.

Hearing that Zhu Cilang was recruiting new retainers, many flocked to Old Seventeen’s house to inquire.

Stories spread among them of Old Seventeen’s firsthand account: as a head retainer, he received a monthly salary of ten taels, wore new, light, and warm livery, and even the lowest retainers could eat meat daily if they worked diligently. The weapons and equipment were excellent. Moreover, on the night they surrendered, Zhu Cilang himself had kept them company. Recalling each detail, of the 613 wounded veterans who returned in those days, 471 came to inquire about joining Zhu Cilang’s retinue.

Of the remaining two thousand from the Right Vanguard, 1,600 were screened by Zhu Cilang in batches. After excluding the old, weak, sick, and disabled, he further eliminated the cunning, lazy, and ill-natured from the remaining 973 based on reputation, appearance, and demeanor. Three hundred willing to farm were sent to rural estates in the capital region, while over one hundred were employed in various shops.

Finally, under Zhu Cilang’s personal supervision, one hundred seasoned veterans from among the wounded were chosen to form the official retainer corps, with the rest—about five hundred honest soldiers—sent with Fu Rugui to the countryside for training. Before long, new reserve retainer units of a hundred men each would join Zhu Cilang in Linqing, where he was to take office.

After these arrangements in the capital, Zhu Cilang was run ragged for nearly half a month, barely touching the ground with exhaustion. Yet even after all this, there was no rest for him—another group awaited his arrangements for the southern journey.

This was, of course, the official retainer corps of one hundred men, led by Old Seventeen. Old Seventeen’s surname was Shi, seventh son of his family, and so he came to be called Old Seventeen by his comrades, his real name forgotten. On a whim, Zhu Cilang gave him the name Shi Zhanbang, but the others found it too hard to remember and stuck to calling him Old Seventeen, or “Captain” on formal occasions.

The deployment of several hundred people southwards required careful preparation. At minimum, the group had to be split into three detachments to cover each other. Logistics also had to be arranged—food, lodging, and daily needs for hundreds could not be managed without a support team, or Zhu Cilang would have to do everything himself.

Having finished these arrangements, Zhu Cilang finally remembered, upon seeing Chang Zhilang waiting with a smile at his home, the matter of the Imperial Academy.

Chang Zhilang was the very student who had first declared his intention to follow Zhu Cilang during the Ministry of Revenue’s reorganization. He now came to discuss journeying south with Zhu Cilang. Such loyalty was warmly welcomed by Zhu Cilang, who always esteemed talent.

After a brief discussion about the twenty-two students’ situation in the capital—where they enjoyed the trust of the Grand Minister of Agriculture and were deliberately avoided by the capital’s bureaucratic faction, thus thriving—Chang Zhilang reported that, upon learning of Zhu Cilang’s new post at the Linqing Tax Division, five of them wished to follow him south. He came immediately to ask if Zhu Cilang would accept them.

Naturally, Zhu Cilang did not hesitate and gladly agreed. Thus, he had to squeeze in six more people, personally arranging their departure before announcing that they would set out in batches, fully prepared.

Yet as a mere sixth-rank official, Zhu Cilang dared not make a show of himself in the capital. Thus, keeping a low profile, he successfully gathered all his people in Tongzhou, where they merged their carriages and boats and began the grand journey south—no longer needing to hide their movements.

Once on the canal, with everyone aboard, they were safe from prying eyes. With several hundred people in his party, Zhu Cilang no longer needed to travel in secrecy.

By the time Zhu Cilang set out from Tongzhou, it was already the eleventh day of the fourth month in the fifteenth year of Chongzhen’s reign.

At last, Zhu Cilang thought he might finally relax.

But neither Si Qi nor Old Seventeen expected that, after Zhu Cilang received an urgent private letter from Si En in the capital, he would become grave and silent, requesting only Si Qi and Old Seventeen to accompany him on the fastest official boat available. They traveled day and night, bypassing all checkpoints, racing ahead to Linqing.

The reason was simple—the private letter contained news from the capital about the war in Henan.