novelSusiti Chapter 11 Soldiers and Officers Surround the Fort
Chapter 11 Soldiers and Officers Surround the Fort
On the 18th day of the twelfth lunar month in the eleventh year of Chongzhen's reign (1638), just as dawn was breaking, the tranquility of Majiabao was shattered by the urgent sound of gongs.
"The soldiers are here! So many soldiers!" the local militia on the lookout tower shouted hoarsely.
Ma Changsheng threw on his coat, rushed out of the room, and climbed the fortress wall.
In the morning mist, a dark mass of figures could be seen outside the fortress, probably four or five hundred people, all dressed in soldiers' uniforms, carrying knives and guns, and lined up in a crooked formation.
Several tattered flags bearing the character "Ming" fluttered in the cold wind.
The leader was a skinny officer in his forties with a fierce face; he was none other than Commander Wang, whom he had dealt with last year.
Standing next to him was a middle-aged man dressed as a civil official—Ma Changsheng recognized him as Wu, the county government's finance clerk.
"Ma Sanbao! Come out and answer!" Officer Wang shouted at the top of his lungs.
Ma Sanbao had already reached the top of the wall, his face pale: "General Wang, what's wrong...?"
"Enough nonsense!" Commander Wang pointed his whip at the fortress wall. "Your Ma Family Fortress has privately amassed troops and resisted government soldiers, which is tantamount to rebellion! I have been ordered to annihilate you! If you know what's good for you, open the gates and surrender, and perhaps you'll be spared!"
These words caused an uproar on the wall.
Tie Zhu roared in anger, "Bullshit! We just fought off the bandits and protected the people. How could we be rebelling?!"
Instructor Sun pulled him aside and whispered to Ma Sanbao, "Something's not right. We just won a battle, and now the government troops are here. I'm afraid they're here to steal our credit, or... to steal the weapons and supplies we captured."
Ma Changsheng had already figured it out.
Rapid Analysis of Consciousness:
The number of officers and soldiers was about 500, but their military appearance was not neat, their morale was low, and most of them were old and weak.
Purpose: Not to suppress bandits, but to extort money.
Using the pretext of "privately hoarding troops," they were actually extorting money and supplies.
Threat level: Medium to high.
If not handled properly, it could lead to conflict, but the officers and soldiers may not actually dare to fight.
He walked up to the wall and said loudly, "General Wang, Master Wu, your student Ma Changsheng greets you."
Officer Wang squinted at him: "It's you again, you little brat. What, your father's too scared to come out, so you're taking the blame?"
"My father is here, but I am the head of the local militia; some things are more appropriate for me to say," Ma Changsheng said neither humbly nor arrogantly. "The officer says we have privately amassed troops and are resisting government soldiers. May I ask, do you have any documents from the county government? Do you have any orders from the governor?"
Master Wu coughed lightly: "Ma Changsheng, you are a scholar, you should know the law. It is forbidden for civilians to privately establish armed forces; this is clearly stated in the Great Ming Code. Your Ma Family Fortress has gathered three hundred people, built walls and dug trenches—what is this if not rebellion?"
"You're mistaken, sir," Ma Changsheng replied, already prepared. "In the seventh year of the Chongzhen reign, the imperial court issued the 'Training Order,' which stated: 'Local areas may organize their own militias to assist government troops in suppressing bandits.' Our Ma Family Fortress militia is precisely responding to the imperial court's call. Moreover, we have already registered with the county government, and Magistrate Qian personally approved the document. How can you say it's 'privately established'?"
He turned and shouted towards the inside of the wall, "Bring me the documents!"
Soon, the document bearing the county seal was placed on the wall.
Ma Changsheng unfolded the document and addressed the people below: "General Wang, Advisor Wu, please take a look. It says in black and white: 'Approval is granted for the establishment of a local militia camp in Majiabao to protect the territory and ensure the safety of the people.'"
Wang, the battalion commander, and Wu, the clerk, exchanged a glance, their faces grim. They knew of the document, of course, but they hadn't expected Ma Changsheng to carry it with him and display it in public.
"Even with official documents, you should still obey orders!" Captain Wang argued illogically. "I now order you: Open the gates! Accept inspection! Hand over all weapons and provisions for government distribution!"
That's the real purpose—to steal things.
Ma Changsheng laughed: "If you want to inspect, General Wang, that's fine. But you'll have to wait for Magistrate Qian or the County Magistrate to arrive in person. According to the rules, local militias only obey the direct command of the county government and are not under the jurisdiction of the garrison. General Wang is a battalion commander of the garrison, so it seems... he can't control us, right?"
These words hit a nerve.
In the Ming Dynasty's military system, the garrison system and local administration were two separate systems, independent of each other. Therefore, Commander Wang indeed had no authority to directly command the local militia.
Commander Wang, his face turning ashen with rage, roared, "You sharp-tongued brat! I'm going to take charge today! Brothers, prepare to attack the city!"
The officers and soldiers raised their weapons sparsely, but most of them were listless—no one wanted to really fight.
On the wall, the village militiamen also became nervous.
Tie Zhu gripped the hilt of his sword tightly: "Chang Sheng, shall we fight or not?"
"We won't fight," Ma Changsheng said in a low voice, "but we won't open the door either. We'll just wait it out."
He raised his voice: "General Wang, are you really going to fight? We just repelled five hundred bandits, our supplies are plentiful, and morale is high. Your five hundred men... are they enough to fill the trenches?"
These words carried a threat.
Upon hearing this, Wang's officers and soldiers hesitated even more—the news of Majiabao's victory over the bandits had already spread, and they did not want to die.
Seeing this, Wu, the clerk, tried to smooth things over: "General Wang, please calm down. Changsheng, please don't get agitated either. We're all working for the court, why ruin the harmony? How about we go into the city to talk?"
Negotiations are about to begin.
Ma Changsheng looked at his father.
Ma Sanbao nodded: "We can talk, but we can't let them all in. At most... twenty people can come in, unarmed."
It was finally agreed that Commander Wang and Advisor Wu would lead ten personal guards into the fortress to negotiate.
Inside the ancestral hall, the brazier burned brightly.
But the atmosphere was cold.
Chief Wang sat imposingly in the main seat, while Master Wu leisurely sipped his tea beside him.
Ma Sanbao, Ma Changsheng, Instructor Sun, and Tiezhu sat at the lower end of the table.
"Enough with the small talk," Commander Wang said, getting straight to the point. "Your Ma Family Fortress has over three hundred men and countless weapons and provisions. According to regulations, half of that should be handed over to the government for military supplies."
Ma Sanbao frowned: "Sir, our weapons and provisions are all self-procured, some of them captured from bandits. Why should we hand them over?"
"On what grounds? Because you eat the grain of the Ming Dynasty and live on the land of the Ming Dynasty!" Captain Wang slammed his fist on the table. "Without the imperial court, you would have been wiped out by the bandits long ago! Now that we're asking you to do a little work, you're unwilling?"
Instructor Sun sneered, "General Wang, where were the government troops when we were fighting the bandits? Now that we've finished, the government troops have arrived. What do you call this? This is called picking the fruits of others' labor!"
"You!" Commander Wang roared in fury.
Master Wu quickly smoothed things over: "Alright, alright, let's all say less. Sanbao, General Wang didn't mean it that way. It's just that the court is facing difficulties right now, and all places need provisions and pay. Since your Ma Family Fortress has the ability, you should share the burden for the court."
He paused for a moment, then said, "How about this? We won't hand over half, we'll hand over thirty percent. One hundred weapons and one hundred bushels of grain. Once you hand them over, we guarantee we'll recommend you to our superiors for commendation, and you might even be rewarded with an official position."
Ma Changsheng had been silent until now, when he suddenly spoke up: "Master, there is something I don't understand."
"you say."
"We handed over weapons and provisions to 'assist in the suppression' campaign. Then may I ask, which bandit groups are these weapons and provisions intended for? Where will they be used? When will they be used? Is there a plan?"
Master Wu was speechless: "This...is a matter of national importance, how dare you ask such a question?"
"The students aren't asking about military secrets; they're asking about accounts," Ma Changsheng said, pulling out a small notebook. "Our local militia's monthly expenses are: 200 shi of grain and 100 taels of silver. If we hand over 100 shi of grain, we'll have to cut back on our own food; if we hand over 100 pieces of weaponry, some of us will be empty-handed. This will inevitably weaken our defenses. If this leads to bandits breaching our fortress, who will bear the responsibility?"
He looked at Battalion Commander Wang: "Commander Wang, can you afford to take this responsibility?"
Wang, the battalion commander, changed his expression. Of course, he couldn't afford to pay the price—if the bandits really broke through Majiabao, and the higher-ups investigated, his extortion would be exposed.
"Then... what do you suggest we do?" Master Wu asked.
Ma Changsheng closed his notebook: "I have a suggestion. We can 'lend' weapons and provisions to the government. But it can't be a free loan; there must be collateral."
"mortgage?"
"Yes. Please have the county government issue an official document recognizing the Majiabao Township militia as the 'Qishui Joint Defense Corps,' in charge of the defense of the surrounding fifteen villages; granting my father the rank of 'garrison commander'; and stating that from now on, the county's grain and labor levies will be reduced by 30% for Majiabao and its subordinate villages."
He paused for a moment, then continued, "If these three conditions are met, we will immediately 'lend' the government one hundred shi of grain and fifty pieces of weaponry. Moreover, if bandits attack in the future, we will 'lend' even more."
This is a strategic retreat.
It was nominally a "loan," but in reality it was a transaction—using provisions and weapons to exchange for legal status and benefits.
Chief Wang and clerk Wu discussed in hushed tones.
After a moment, Wu, the clerk, said, "We can agree to the first and third conditions. But the second condition, 'garrison commander,' is a fifth-rank military officer position, which requires approval from the Ministry of War. The county cannot make that decision on its own."
"Then let's appoint him as 'acting garrison commander'," Ma Changsheng conceded. "The county will grant a temporary appointment, pending approval from the Ministry of War. During this period, my father will act under the title of 'acting garrison commander'."
It's actually an empty title, but having it is better than having none.
In the countryside, the "garrison commander" was much more prestigious than the "village head".
Wang, the battalion commander, still wanted to argue, but Wu, the clerk, stopped him: "Fine. But you'll have to add twenty more horses."
Ma Changsheng laughed: "Sir, the horses are the transport for our village militia. If we give them to you, how will we patrol? Here's what we'll do: ten horses, no more than that."
"Fifteen horses!"
"Twelve horses, plus fifty taels of silver," Ma Changsheng said. "That's the bottom line."
Final deal: Majiabao "lent" the government 100 shi of grain, 50 pieces of weaponry, 12 horses, and 50 taels of silver.
In exchange: the legal status of the Qishui Joint Defense Corps, the appointment of Ma Sanbao as "acting garrison commander", and a 30% reduction in taxes and corvée labor for the fifteen villages under its jurisdiction.
The agreement was written down on the spot, and all three parties signed and sealed it.
Although Wang Bazong didn't gain much benefit, he still managed to get something, and his expression softened slightly.
Before leaving, Master Wu spoke privately to Ma Changsheng: "Changsheng, you are a smart man. But a smart man knows when to advance and when to retreat. This time we made concessions because you have indeed made contributions. Next time... it won't be so easy."
Ma Changsheng bowed and said, "I understand. Thank you for your guidance, Master."
After the soldiers left, trouble broke out inside Majiabao.
Inside the ancestral hall, several squad leaders surrounded Ma Sanbao, their emotions running high:
"Uncle Sanbao, why are you giving them so much food? That was earned with the lives of our brothers!"
"And horses! Twelve horses! We only have about twenty in total!"
"That fifty taels of silver was the military pay we saved up through frugality!"
Ma Sanbao sighed: "What can we do if they don't give it to us? Fight? Fight the soldiers?"
"Fight then! We just defeated five hundred bandits, why should we be afraid of five hundred government soldiers?"
"Exactly! If they really fight, it's hard to say who will win or lose!"
Just as a quarrel was about to break out, Ma Changsheng walked into the ancestral hall. Everyone looked at him.
"Chang Sheng, tell me! Isn't this agreement too unfair?" a team leader asked.
Ma Changsheng walked to the center and looked around at everyone: "Uncles and elders, I have a few questions to ask."
"you say."
"We fight the government troops, we win, but then what? The imperial court will send even more troops to suppress us. Can we possibly defeat them all?"
Everyone fell silent.
"Even if the imperial court doesn't suppress us, if we completely break ties with the government, how will we buy salt? How will we sell grain? How will we send our children to school to take the imperial examinations?"
More people bowed their heads.
"The most crucial point," Ma Changsheng raised his voice, "is that we, three hundred men, can defend the fortress and fight off bandits, but can we farm? Can we weave cloth? Can we forge iron? Everything we eat, wear, and use—doesn't we need to trade with the outside world? If we fall out with the government, we'll be cutting ourselves off from the outside world. How long can we last?"
The ancestral hall was completely silent.
Ma Changsheng softened his tone: "I know everyone is heartbroken over the food and weapons. I am too. But these things are the money we paid for passage, the money we paid for our lives. With this money, we bought three things: legal status, tax reduction benefits, and... time."
"Time?" Tie Zhu asked, puzzled.
"Yes, time," Ma Changsheng said. "With legal status, we can legitimately train troops, build fortresses, and establish joint defenses. With reduced taxes, the people's burden will be lighter, and they will support us more. As for ourselves, with this time, we can grow more grain, produce more weapons, and train more soldiers. When we become so powerful that the government dares not provoke us, we won't have to pay 'tolls' anymore."
Instructor Sun nodded: "Chang Sheng is right. This is called 'concealing one's abilities and biding one's time.' To fight now is like throwing an egg against a rock; once we become rock, no one will dare to throw an egg at us."
The group gradually came to understand.
Although it still hurts, I know it's a last resort.
Ma Changsheng added, "Besides, we're not giving it away for nothing. Those twelve horses are all old, weak, and sick; those fifty weapons are all damaged and need repair; and half of those one hundred bushels of grain is stale. We're exchanging inferior goods for real benefits, so we're not at a loss."
That made everyone feel better.
In fact, Ma Changsheng had another trick up his sleeve—he had already hidden the best weapons and provisions in the cave, and what he handed over were all substandard items.
The storm had subsided, but Ma Changsheng knew that this was just the beginning.
As Majiabao grows stronger, its conflicts with the government will only increase.
He needs a longer-term plan.
On the 20th day of the twelfth lunar month, the first "Joint Defense Meeting of Fifteen Villages in Qishui" was held in Majiabao.
Representatives from fifteen villages gathered at the ancestral hall—most were clan chiefs or village heads, but a few villages, like Majiabao, which had armed forces, sent their militia leaders.
Ma Changsheng, acting as the "painter," presided over the meeting. He first reported on the defeat of the bandits and the negotiations with the government, and then proposed a joint defense plan:
"Fellow villagers, in these chaotic times, one tree cannot hold up the whole forest. Our fifteen villages are scattered across a radius of thirty miles. If we fight our own battles, we are easily defeated one by one by the bandits. Only by uniting can we protect ourselves."
He hung up a large map showing the location, terrain, and population of fifteen villages.
"My suggestions are: First, establish an intelligence network. Each village should have a liaison officer to immediately relay any enemy activity; second, conduct unified training. Hold a centralized training session once a month to learn basic combat tactics; third, facilitate the exchange of supplies. Those with more food should support those with less, and those with more weapons should support those with less; finally, implement joint operations. Small groups of bandits should be jointly eliminated by nearby villages; large groups of bandits should be defended jointly by all villages."
An old clan chief asked, "Then who decides?"
"Major matters are discussed, minor matters are handled autonomously," Ma Changsheng said. "We will establish a joint defense committee, with one vote from each village. Routine affairs will be led by the Majiabao Township militia—because we have three hundred people and experience. But major decisions, such as going to war, requisitioning grain, and building fortifications, must be approved by the joint defense committee."
The plan is fair, and most people agree with it.
But disagreements arose when it came to specific contributions. Wealthy villages were unwilling to contribute more grain, while poor villages couldn't afford to send more people. The argument escalated, almost to the point of banging on the table.
Ma Changsheng was prepared: "I have a solution: calculate it based on 'defense contribution value'."
He wrote on the blackboard: "Each village contributes 1 point for each person, 1 point for each bushel of grain, 2 points for each weapon, and 5 points for each horse. Each village's contribution will be recorded according to its ability. In the future, the distribution of spoils of war and tax reductions will be based on the value of the contribution. Those who contribute more will receive more; those who contribute less will receive less. It is fair and reasonable."
This method is novel, but everyone understands it immediately.
Rich villages can produce more grain, and poor villages can produce more people; everyone should do their best.
"What if someone doesn't put in any effort and just wants to take advantage?" someone asked.
"One warning, two warnings, expulsion," Ma Changsheng said sternly. "The joint defense is voluntary, but once you're in, you have to follow the rules. If you don't, the other villages won't protect you."
Ultimately, all fifteen villages agreed to join the joint defense effort.
They signed the alliance agreement and pressed their fingerprints on the spot.
Ma Changsheng instructed Tiezhu to lead the representatives on a tour of the defensive fortifications and training exercises at Majiabao.
Seeing the neat ranks, complete fortifications, and ample supplies, the delegates' confidence soared.
"With Majiabao leading the way, we have hope!" an old village headman said excitedly.
The meeting ended late at night. Ma Changsheng was exhausted, but felt at ease—with the joint defense of these fifteen villages, Majiabao was no longer an isolated island, but a small defensive system. Within a radius of thirty miles, bandits would have to think twice before trying to enter.
However, the peaceful days didn't last long.
On the 28th day of the twelfth lunar month, Ma Changsheng received a secret letter from Chen Jiru, sent from the county town—written using their agreed-upon code:
"The county government is discussing the matter: Majiabao is powerful and may become too big to be controlled. There is a suggestion to send troops to suppress them, but this was suppressed by Magistrate Qian. However, Battalion Commander Wang has contacted the garrison to report that 'Majiabao is colluding with bandits.' We need to take immediate action."
Ma Changsheng's heart sank. His worst fears had come true—the government had begun to suspect him.
He immediately sought out his father and Coach Sun to discuss the matter.
"Colluding with bandits? This is an attempt to kill us!" Ma Sanbao's face turned pale.
Instructor Sun sneered, "If you want to condemn someone, you can always find a pretext. Captain Wang hasn't had enough yet, he wants to get back at us."
"What should we do?" Tie Zhu asked. "How about we strike first and take down Chief Wang..."
"No," Ma Changsheng shook his head. "Killing a mere Captain Wang will attract even more government troops. Besides, we can't afford to completely break ties with the government right now."
He pondered for a moment: "I have three plans."
"explain."
"The best course of action is to take the initiative to show goodwill. Under the guise of 'New Year's greetings,' we will send gifts to everyone in the county government—the magistrate, the assistant magistrate, the registrar, and the clerk—leaving no one out. The gifts should be generous, and the words should be gentle, to show that we are loyal to the court and have no disloyal intentions."
"Middle Strategy: Create evidence. We 'accidentally' captured a few spies from the bandits, 'interrogated' them, and found out they came to contact Majiabao, but we firmly refused them and beheaded them as a warning. This should be made public so that everyone knows."
"The worst-case scenario: Just in case. Secretly move important supplies into the mountains, and prepare for the evacuation of the elderly, women, and children. If the government really takes action, we can quickly retreat into the mountains and fight a guerrilla war."
Three strategies were employed simultaneously, combining both soft and hard approaches.
Ma Sanbao nodded: "That's settled then. I'll handle the gift-giving; you, Lao Sun, will take care of catching the spies; and Tie Zhu will be in charge of the evacuation preparations."
With clear division of labor, each person acted independently.
On the 29th day of the twelfth lunar month, Ma Sanbao led three large carts into the city to "pay New Year's greetings." The carts were loaded with: 20 shi of fine rice and 10 bolts of silk for the county magistrate; 15 shi of rice and 8 bolts of cloth for the county assistant; 10 shi of rice and 5 bolts of cloth each for the registrar and the clerk; and small amounts of silver and cured meat for the yamen runners and clerks.
The gifts were substantial, nearly emptying the Ma family's coffers. But Ma Changsheng said, "You can't catch a wolf without risking your cub. It's worth spending money to buy peace now."
Sure enough, once the gifts were delivered, the attitude of everyone in the county government changed drastically. The county magistrate even personally received Ma Sanbao, praising him for "protecting the territory and ensuring the safety of the people, his loyalty and bravery are commendable." County Assistant Magistrate Qian even patted his chest and guaranteed, "With me here, no one can touch Ma Family Fortress."
For Commander Wang's side, Ma Changsheng prepared a generous gift: fifty taels of silver and five fine horses. When he sent it, he made sure the whole city saw it.
After accepting the gift, Commander Wang indeed stopped mentioning the "collusion with bandits" matter. However, he sent someone to tell him: "Keep your men in check, don't be too ostentatious."
The crisis has been temporarily averted.
On the first day of the first month of the twelfth year of Chongzhen (1639), Majiabao spent the New Year in a state of tension.
There was no usual festivities, only simple ancestral worship and eating dumplings before everyone returned to their posts—the bandits didn't celebrate the New Year, nor did the soldiers, so they couldn't afford to relax.
On the third day of the Lunar New Year, unexpected events still occurred.
It wasn't government soldiers, nor bandits, but a plague.
The first to fall ill was an old woman in the fortress; she had a fever, cough, and red rashes on her body. When Aunt Chen saw her, her face changed drastically: "It's...it's smallpox!"
Smallpox! In ancient times, this was a deadly plague.
Ma Changsheng immediately ordered: isolate the patients, seal off the affected area, and disinfect the entire fortress. But it was too late. Within three days, more than a dozen more people fell ill, including two local militiamen.
Panic spread like wildfire. Some tried to escape but were stopped by Tie Zhu and his men; others prayed to gods and Buddhas, burning incense and kowtowing in front of the ancestral hall; still others spread rumors: "This is divine punishment for the excessive killing in Majiabao!"
Ma Changsheng locked himself in his room, frantically searching through his mental database for medical knowledge. Smallpox, a viral infectious disease with a high mortality rate, but... there was a way to treat it.
Prevention: Varicocele (smallpox inoculation). This method existed in the Ming Dynasty, but carried significant risks.
Treatment: There is no specific drug; the main treatment is supportive care, including fever reduction, hydration, and prevention of secondary infections.
Available medicinal herbs: honeysuckle, forsythia, isatis root, burdock seed...
He rushed out of the room and found Aunt Chen: "Auntie, has anyone in our village ever been vaccinated against smallpox?"
Aunt Chen was taken aback: "Yes, there is... Zhang the Cripple from the next village, he had smallpox vaccinated when he was young, and it left scars on his face, but he survived. You mean...?"
"Yes, vaccination!" Ma Changsheng said. "Using the pus from patients with mild symptoms to inoculate healthy people. Although it's dangerous, it's better than waiting to die!"
This was a risky move. Failed vaccination would result in immediate death from the disease; but without vaccination, the chances of survival during the plague were even lower.
Ma Changsheng decided to take the risk—he was a consciousness entity, and if this body died, his consciousness might be able to transfer. But if others died, they were truly dead.
"Give me the seeds first," he said.
"No way!" Ma Sanbao and Li Shi objected at the same time.
"Father, Mother, I am the vaccinator, so I have to take the lead," Ma Changsheng said calmly. "Besides, I'm young and healthy, so the success rate of vaccination is high. If I succeed, everyone will dare to follow suit."
He couldn't explain the real reason, so he could only use this excuse.
With trembling hands, Aunt Chen took a smallpox pus from a patient with mild symptoms and inoculated it onto Ma Changsheng's arm.
The process is simple: cut the skin, apply acne ointment, and bandage.
What followed was a long wait.
Three days later, Ma Changsheng began to have a fever.
Li stayed by his bedside, her eyes red from crying.
Ma Sanbao was extremely anxious, but he was at a loss for what to do.
The high fever lasted for two days and two nights.
In his dazed state, Ma Changsheng felt his consciousness begin to blur—not that he was unconscious, but rather that his consciousness was beginning to falter as his body approached death.
Warning: Host vital signs are declining. Consciousness anchoring is beginning to weaken.
If the host dies, the consciousness will enter a standby state, waiting for the next suitable host.
Recommendation: Immediately enhance life support.
Ma Changsheng gritted his teeth and persevered.
He cannot die, at least not now.
Majiabao still needs him, his parents still need him, and the joint defense of the fifteen villages still needs him...
On the fourth day, the fever subsided.
Several blisters appeared on the smallpox vaccination site on his arm, and then scabbed over.
It worked!
The news spread, and the entire fortress was in an uproar.
Grandma Chen inoculated healthy people one by one. Although a few people died from the inoculation, most of them were successful.
The plague has been brought under control.
Majiabao escaped disaster once again.
However, this epidemic reduced the population of the fort by more than thirty people—including five local militia.
Morale was dampened, and people were filled with anxiety.
The fifteenth day of the first lunar month is the Lantern Festival.
There were no lanterns or decorations in Majiabao, only a few dim oil lamps in the ancestral hall.
Ma Changsheng convened a meeting with key personnel.
His body had not fully recovered; his face was pale, but his eyes were resolute.
"Through these experiences, I've learned a lesson," he said. "Our Majiabao village can fight bandits, deal with government troops, and control the plague. But we can't change the overall trend of the situation."
"What trend?" Tie Zhu asked.
"The Ming Dynasty is doomed," Ma Changsheng said, making a startling statement.
The ancestral hall was deathly silent.
Although everyone had a premonition, no one dared to say it aloud.
Ma Changsheng continued, "I'm not making this up. Look to the north, the Later Jin are getting stronger and stronger, they've already changed their name to 'Qing,' and could enter the pass at any time. Look inside, the bandits are impossible to eradicate; the more they're suppressed, the more they multiply. The court is increasing taxes, officials are corrupt, and the people are suffering. How long can such a court last?"
"Then... what should we do?" Ma Sanbao's voice trembled.
"Two paths." Ma Changsheng held up a finger. "First, continue to be loyal to the Ming Dynasty, but be prepared for a change of dynasty; second, make plans early and find a way out in the chaos."
Instructor Sun asked, "Chang Sheng, explain yourself clearly."
"What I mean is: we, the Ma family fortress, can't just think about protecting ourselves. We need to look further ahead." Ma Changsheng walked to the map. "Huguang is the granary of the Ming Dynasty, and it will inevitably become a battleground for all sides in the future. If we stay here, we will either be crushed or... rise up in the process."
"How can we seize the opportunity and rise to power?"
"Accumulate strength and wait for the right opportunity," Ma Changsheng said. "Continue to expand the army, but do not make a fuss about it; continue to stockpile grain, but disperse and hide it; continue to form alliances, but control them secretly. When the world is in chaos, we will have soldiers, grain, and territory, and then we will have the capital to speak."
He paused for a moment: "But before that, I have something to do."
"What is it?"
"I'm going to take the provincial examination to become a scholar," Ma Changsheng said. "I'm going to participate in the provincial examination this August."
Everyone was stunned. At this crucial juncture, to take the imperial examination for the title of Juren?
"Chang Sheng, didn't you say the court was going to perish? Why bother with the imperial examination?" Tie Zhu asked, puzzled.
"It is precisely because the dynasty is about to perish that we need to take the exams," Ma Changsheng explained. "The status of a Juren (a successful candidate in the provincial-level imperial examinations) is a protective shield. With this status, the government will not dare to easily touch me, the literati will respect me, and no matter who wins the throne in the future, scholars will always be of use."
More importantly, he needs a broader perspective.
The county school was no longer enough for him; he wanted to go to the provincial capital to meet more people and acquire more information.
Looking at his son, Ma Sanbao suddenly felt that his son was getting further and further away from him.
The child who once needed his protection is now plotting great things for the world.
But he knew his son was right.
"Alright, go take the exam," Ma Sanbao said. "Your father is here at home, and everyone in the fortress is here to help, so don't worry."
Ma Changsheng nodded: "I will arrange everything before I leave."
The meeting ended at midnight.
Ma Changsheng walked out of the ancestral hall and looked up at the starry sky.
The Milky Way stretches across the sky, dotted with countless stars.
One of them, more than three hundred years later, will become a black hole and throw him back into this era.
And now, he stands here, at the age of eleven, leading three hundred local militia, protecting the people of fifteen villages, and devising a way out of the chaos.
Destiny is amazing.
He took a deep breath and walked towards his residence.
There is still much to be done: the training plan needs to be improved, the joint defense regulations need to be detailed, and the material reserves need to be checked...
Also, you need to prepare for the provincial examination.
This spring is destined to be busy.