Chapter 65: Reunion

The prefectural yamen was quite an interesting place.

Many local gentry had arrived. Officials on leave and the sons of officials from other provinces had seats in the main hall. Wealthy merchants and men like Liu Xiangyu—former minor officials or scholars who had never held office—sat in the outer courtyard. The younger merchants and Confucian students, who had obtained their official caps and belts by donation, stood outside, having no seats. Liu Chengzu and Liu Chengzong were among them.

Those who had earned their caps and belts by killing bandits were at the bottom of the food chain among the attendees; they simply found a corner to hide in. After all, the Black Dragon Mountain bandits were known for their poverty, barely able to scrape together a pair of trousers, with the whole mountain on the brink of starvation. The prefect didn’t expect them to contribute money or grain.

Thus, the high-ranking officials had the prefect himself for company as they discussed donations of money and grain; the great merchants had the assistant prefect and the deputy prefect; the small merchants and donor scholars had the county magistrate of Fushi for company. Those like Liu Chengzu and Liu Chengzong, with only their bandit-slaying credentials, had only an old servant from the yamen to guide them to a pavilion, where they were left to their own devices.

The two brothers had talked all the way to the prefectural city, exchanging notes on what they’d learned in recent days. Liu Chengzu, for his part, was still shaken. Tending to the wounded often brought back memories of the night they sacked Wangzhuang Fort. With the soldiers scattered and leaderless, they needn’t have worried about the official troops outside; even if they’d surrendered and switched sides, it was doubtful they could have prevailed. So, this period had seen Liu Chengzu focusing on educating the border troops about this very issue.

Inside the yamen, the brothers were much more reserved. There were many things they couldn’t discuss, and they had no desire to network as others did. To Liu Chengzong, it felt more like infiltrating enemy territory. He kept glancing into the main hall, where any one of the seated figures could rival half a Zhang Qing in stature.

As he pondered whether he might seek help from these people should trouble arise again, his elder brother nudged his arm and whispered, “Look at that man.”

Following his brother’s gaze, he saw among the donor scholars a refined-looking scholar chatting and laughing with those around him. Sensing their gaze, the man glanced nonchalantly toward the pavilion, unconcerned, and turned away—only to whip his head back suddenly, as if he’d seen a ghost.

It was Chuang Tatian!

So it seemed the brothers weren’t the only ones who had infiltrated the enemy ranks—Chuang Tatian had gone even deeper, chatting merrily with the Fushi county instructor. After that glance, Chuang Tatian could no longer maintain his composure in conversation.

Not long after, he excused himself to those around him and strolled leisurely over to the brothers.

He bowed and said, “You two look familiar. I am Liu Guoneng from Nanjia Mountain. Might I ask your names?”

At the mention of Nanjia Mountain, Chuang Tatian’s identity was secure.

“I am Liu Chengzong, from Black Dragon Mountain.”

“Liu Chengzu,” the elder added.

Liu Guoneng smiled. “Why not, when matters here are done, come visit me at Nanjia Mountain as my guests? Would you do me the honor?”

Liu Chengzu clasped his hands in apology. “Since you are so gracious, let Chengzong go; we have guests at home.”

“That will do, then. We’ll meet later, outside Shunyang Gate.”

After Liu Guoneng left, Liu Chengzu explained, “There are guests at Cao’s quarters these days. If you go, return early; you might catch them.”

“Brother Cao’s guests?” Liu Chengzong asked. “Who?”

His brother didn’t elaborate, merely whispered a name: “Captain Zhang.”

Zhang Wu, the former captain of Yuhe Fort, who had left in the past and was now a bandit chief, known as Guo Tianxing. Ever since Cao Yao left Yuhe Fort, he’d wanted to find this man, but only saw a distinctive wanted poster in Qingjian at the time, never the man himself.

Qingjian had many wanted posters, with new bandit chiefs emerging all the time. But none were as notorious as Guo Tianxing; while others merited a single notice, his would cover half a wall. At the top, the alias Guo Tianxing; below, six portraits in a row, from Zhang the eldest to Zhang the fifth, plus Sister Zhang—a family enterprise.

As the brothers spoke, a commotion broke out between the hall and the courtyard. The officials demanded that the gentry donate funds and grain for the nation; the gentry insisted the government first eliminate the bandits near Yan’an Prefecture before discussing the campaign against Yanchuan and Yanchang.

Their demands clashed, and debate ensued. A gentryman from the city raised his arm and cried out, listing all the grain and pay the gentry had donated since last year, while the situation had only deteriorated. The gentry from outside the city demanded that the county provide them with weapons so their villages could defend themselves. Some, more radical, brought up the example of Sanyuan County, where, in the spring, the people had stripped Buddha statues to cast Hongyi cannons, calling for cannon-making.

In summary, the government wanted money and grain; the gentry wanted the restoration of order in return for their donations. If order could not be restored, the gentry wanted guns and cannons to restore it themselves.

There was no possibility of further donations beyond this. They could hardly be expected to provide grain, only for the official troops to march off to fight bandits in Yanchuan and Yanchang, leaving the bandits free to plunder them. Better for the troops to stay put in Yan’an Prefecture and go nowhere.

In the end, nothing was agreed upon; only a few officials and gentry contributed less than two hundred stones of rice—not nearly enough for the needs of Yan’an’s military. The meeting broke up in discontent.

After bidding farewell to his brother, Liu Chengzong led his horse out through the southern Shunyang Gate. He soon met up with Liu Guoneng, who had brought not only himself but also She Tatian, and another man who looked like a garrison officer.

The group mounted up and rode toward Nanjia Mountain in silence, only beginning to talk once they had entered the hills.

Liu Guoneng said, “I thought the Tiger General was dead. When the prefect paraded the head around the city, I went to have a look—and that’s when I saw She Tatian.”

At this, She Tatian bowed to Liu Chengzong. “I am Li Wanqing, a hunter from the south of the city.”

Liu Guoneng introduced the young garrison officer. “Brother Chengzong, this is Yang Yanchang, a probationary hundred-man commander of the Yan’an garrison. He was at Wangzhuang that day too.”

This surprised Liu Chengzong. He clasped his hands in greeting. “I thought only those of us without official posts would do such things. Brother Yang, you draw a salary—why would you?”

“That salary’s worth nothing,” Yang Yanchang replied with a shake of his head. “It’s all borrowed by the poorer garrison brothers before it even arrives. We know we can’t pay it back, but what can we do? We go hungry ourselves, then have to go to Wangzhuang to fight bandits. Hell, I’d rather get rid of those bastards first.”

“You both went to see the Tiger General’s head?” Liu Chengzong asked.

The three—Liu, Li, and Yang—all replied, “All three of us went. I thought it was one of you who’d died.”

So, it turned out everyone had seen it except Liu Chengzong himself. He asked, “By the way, which of you used my name to distribute grain to the people?”

The three men smiled. Liu Guoneng said, “We all did. Didn’t I ask you what to do if we couldn’t take the grain? You said to distribute it to the poor.”

“You broke the fort; we got the grain for nothing. There’s no reason to claim the credit for ourselves,” said Yang Yanchang. “Guoneng even sent a batch of grain to the prefectural city. That prefect must be racking his brains to figure it out; the man who threatened him by letter was just in the yamen earlier.”

Before long, they reached Nanjia Mountain.

Liu Guoneng said, “Come, let me take you to see my mother. At last, I can bring home a brother with an official status, so she can stop complaining that I keep bad company.”

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Sanyuan County’s people stripped Buddha statues to cast three Hongyi cannons of fifteen hundred catties each. Source: Wang Zheng, “Chronicle of Loyal Governance.”