New Policies in Sichuan

Chapter 14 Military Manual

"The number of soldiers on the books of that county is probably far greater than the number of soldiers who are alive and able to stand up."

After Gu Chengyan finished speaking, the hall remained silent for a long while.

Whether it was the late night and the cool breeze, or the heavy weight of the phrase "much more," even Gao Chengli felt a chill run down his spine.

It's not unusual to have a large number of soldiers on the roster. But if the extra soldiers aren't just one or two, but rather a whole squad is riddled with dead, deserters, nominal members, and empty vacancies, then it's no longer a problem with the roster.

This is treating the imperial army like one's own personal staff.

In other words, others raise troops to fight wars. Cities and counties raise troops simply for accounting purposes.

Soon, the troop registers were brought over. Not just one book, but a whole stack. Thick and thin, yellowed, newly copied, supplemented, with curled corners and brand-new covers, all piled on the desk in the hall, looking more like murder weapons than the grain chests from before.

The person who brought the register was a minor official in charge of military affairs in the county, surnamed Pan, and called Pan the Registrar.

The man was as thin as a bamboo pole weathered by the wind, but his face was fair, indicating that he didn't usually spend much time in the sun. He looked more like someone who sat behind a desk making a living with pen and ink than someone who rolled around in the mud in a military camp. As soon as he entered, he kowtowed loudly, his attitude so polite that it was as if he wanted to write "I'm just a brochure deliveryman" on his forehead.

"Your Highness, the records of the county's registered soldiers, the supplementary registration of old names, the rations and pay registers, and the distribution of weapons and armor are all here. This humble official dares not conceal even a trace of them."

Meng Xuanzhe glanced at him.

"You're being too definitive," he said slowly. "People who speak so confidently are either exceptionally clean or exceptionally aware of their shortcomings."

Pan Lushi's knees buckled, and he almost hit his head into a crack in the floor tiles.

Gao Chengli silently shrank his neck.

Now, His Highness's way of looking at people is more and more like picking fish bones with a needle.

Every single one is a perfect match.

Meng Xuanzhe didn't rush to ask him, but instead gestured for Gu Chengyan to spread out the booklet first.

As Gu Chengyan flipped through the documents, he categorized them: general register of soldiers, monthly ration register, supplementary record of casualties, register of military households and their families, register of soldiers and armor, and register of drill grounds.

With each book he opened, Zhou Ling'an's face would turn ashen.

He stood below the hall, neither daring to kneel, yet standing as if kneeling, like a piece of wood just pulled from the fire, not yet burned but already beginning to smoke.

He had long known that the soldiers in Qingcheng County were not clean.

He had assumed that this filth was merely a local, lax rule, something everyone turned a blind eye to and it would all pass. Even with the granary ransacked yesterday and the grain store on fire tonight, he still clung to a sliver of hope—

A granary is a granary, and grain is grain; they may not actually be burned all the way to the military register.

Now things are much better. Not only did the young master get burned, but he also specially moved the brazier into the main hall of the county government office and sat down to slowly roast himself.

The first thing Gu Chengyan opened was the general register of soldiers.

"One squad of 120 soldiers from Qingcheng County."

The handwriting was neat, the number of people was complete, and there were a few corrections at the end, making it look quite legitimate.

Meng Xuanzhe looked up at Pan Lushi: "How many soldiers are there in the camp right now?"

Pan, the registrar, hesitated for a moment before cautiously replying, "Your Highness, the accounts are fully funded. There may be discrepancies in the daily turnover..."

"I'm asking how many are actually in the camp," Meng Xuanzhe interrupted him, "not how many are written in the accounts."

Pan Lushi's forehead instantly broke out in a sweat.

This is the most annoying problem.

Because it doesn't look at the book, it looks at the person.

Humans are the kind of people that are hardest to smooth out with a pen.

He stammered for a long time before finally managing to squeeze out, "About... ninety people."

Cao Lie, who had been standing silently to the side, suddenly scoffed upon hearing this.

Not big.

But the main hall was quiet enough that this sound was particularly jarring.

Meng Xuanzhe turned to look at him: "What are you laughing at?"

Cao Lie clasped his hands in a fist salute, his movements a little stiff, clearly not yet used to being so straightforward in the government office.

"Your Highness, please forgive me. I was not laughing at Your Highness, but at this account."

"Ninety or so men?" Cao Lie smirked. "If the Qingcheng Camp can really produce ninety men who can breathe, stand up straight, and wield a knife, I'd gladly break this lame leg again."

Pan Lushi's face flushed red.

"You're just a retired soldier, how could you possibly understand the situation in the camp now—"

"I don't understand?" Cao Lie's eyes widened, and the old scar at the corner of his eye twitched. "I repaired target stands for people at the Qingcheng West Camp two years ago. I can count the number of rooms, stoves, and armor sets in the camp with my eyes closed better than you can."

Gao Chengli, who was listening nearby, twitched at the corner of his eye.

well.

Just as a writer finished putting on airs of literary elegance, an old soldier immediately chimed in with a blunt and unvarnished remark.

Ironically, it is this kind of colloquialism that is most lethal.

Because the account book can list 120 people, and the person can say about 90, but the number of rooms and armor sets in the western camp can't be made up on its own.

Meng Xuanzhe stopped the two from arguing and simply said, "Gu Chengyan, match the cards."

Gu Chengyan immediately checked the old soldier tokens that Cao Lie had brought against the general register one by one.

The more he looked at the nuisance, the more his brow furrowed.

"Your Highness, those seventeen people were just the obvious ones." He turned to the supplementary record page, his voice deep. "If we also count those whose casualties haven't been cleared, those whose relocations haven't been changed, and those with duplicate names... at least thirty-six people are problematic."

Gao Chengli almost choked on his breath.

Thirty-six?

This isn't just an extra layer of skin.

The whole piece of meat was rotten inside.

Pan, the registrar, looked ashen-faced, but still tried to argue, "The roster is old, and there may be occasional errors..."

"Occasionally there are mistakes?" Meng Xuanzhe looked at him. "Out of 120 people, 36 have problems. This isn't a mistake, it's like taking everything apart and putting it all back together."

Gu Chengyan continued flipping through the grain and salary records.

This time it's even more exciting.

"The monthly grain rations are fully paid for 120 people."

"Those who have retired due to illness but whose medical conditions have not yet been cured will continue as before."

"Seven additional positions will be filled, as usual."

"Those who died in action and are awaiting nuclear testing will be temporarily recorded according to the old register."

Meng Xuanzhe couldn't help but smile as he looked at the lines of text.

"What a wonderful 'as usual'."

"The dead remain the same, deserters remain the same, the sick and disabled remain the same, and replacements remain the same." He tapped the table lightly. "Your roster is truly nostalgic."

Gao Chengli lowered his head, his shoulders trembling almost imperceptibly.

No.

You really can't laugh.

But His Highness's cursing now sounds more and more like he's wielding a small razor blade.

It doesn't bleed, but it hurts terribly.

Cao Lie couldn't hold back and added, "It's true that you cherish the past, but unfortunately you only cherish the past of the dead, not the suffering of the living."

After these words were spoken, the hall fell silent once more.

Meng Xuanzhe glanced at Cao Lie, his opinion of him growing.

This old soldier is indeed rough, but he has backbone beneath his rough exterior.

This kind of person will be useful in the future.

Gu Chengyan then spread out the military household pension book.

This time, even his voice carried a hint of coldness.

"In the column for pensions, from the 22nd to the 25th year of the Guangzheng reign, thirteen were marked 'awaiting allocation,' nine were marked 'postponed,' and six others were simply unnamed."

"Nameless?" Meng Xuanzhe looked up.

"Yes." Gu Chengyan pointed to a page, "The first page records the deaths in battle, but the second page doesn't include the list of families. It's like the soldiers died, but the names were left in the register, and we can't find out who they were."

Cao Lie, who was standing to the side, suddenly gritted his teeth and made a grinding sound.

"It's not that there's no way to catch them," he said, his voice hardening. "It's that some people are too lazy to catch them, or simply don't want to. Like Zhou Sanwang's family at the city gate, the memorial tablet is still there, but the man has been buried for three years, and his wife's name still isn't fully written on the pension register."

These words struck Pan Lushi like a stone, making him tremble.

Zhou Ling'an closed his eyes, as if he had finally realized that this was no longer a "crown prince checking accounts," but a public humiliation of Qingcheng County.

It wasn't even a gentle peeling.

They used an iron hook to pull the weight from the shoulder all the way down to the heel.

Meng Xuanzhe remained silent for a moment, then suddenly picked up the military equipment requisition book.

"The military pay is sufficient, but the relief funds are scarce. What about the soldiers' armor?"

He turned to a page and read: "Twelve sets of armor, twenty bows, forty spears, and sixty swords, all ready for annual maintenance."

After he finished reading it, he laughed at himself.

"This notebook is written as if there's a hidden elite military unit in Qingcheng County."

Cao Lie glanced at the register and smirked.

"If Your Highness can really find twelve complete suits of armor in the Qingcheng Camp, I'll break my other good leg to make it a complete set."

Gao Chengli couldn't help himself and finally turned his head away, coughing loudly.

This time it wasn't laughter, it was choking.

But he knew very well that Cao Lie's rustic words carried more weight than the military manual itself.

The tents were complete, but the camp was dilapidated, which means that it wasn't just the heads of soldiers who were being embezzled, but also the armor and weapons.

They devoured one layer of human heads, another layer of soldiers' armor, and in the end, the few who were truly capable of fighting still had to bear the reputation of "the imperial court supporting its soldiers with great generosity" before being slaughtered.

This is hardly the kind of training of soldiers.

This is raising woodworms.

Meng Xuanzhe closed the book and looked at Registrar Pan.

"Do you usually handle paperwork or military affairs?"

Pan, the registrar, hurriedly replied, "This humble official is merely assisting with copying; I dare not meddle in actual military affairs."

"That's good." Meng Xuanzhe nodded. "Since you're not involved in military affairs, I suppose you'll have no choice but to copy it exactly."

Pan, the registrar, sensed something was amiss and cautiously replied, "Yes..."

"Then these books weren't forgeries you made," Meng Xuanzhe said calmly. "Someone made forgeries, and you copied them; someone embezzled, and you copied them; someone used dead people as scapegoats, and you filled in the blanks."

Pan Lushi's face turned deathly pale.

On the surface, this statement is meant to exonerate him, but in reality, it's asking: Who gave you permission to copy like this?

Moreover, the questions were very direct, leaving little room for playing dumb.

His lips trembled slightly, but he ultimately didn't dare to confess immediately. He simply prostrated himself and said, "This lowly official... was merely acting according to the old records from above..."

"Who's up there?" Meng Xuanzhe asked.

Pan Lushi pressed his forehead to the ground, as if he wished he could bury himself in it.

"The minor official dared not speak recklessly."

"It's not that you're afraid to speak recklessly," Meng Xuanzhe looked at him, "it's that you're afraid that after you speak, tomorrow you'll become the head in the 'No one can be spared' idiom."

Upon hearing this, Pan Lushi trembled.

Clearly, what was predicted was accurate.

Gao Chengli watched with growing alarm.

Your Highness's interrogation methods now go beyond mere forced confessions.

He was gradually speaking out the fears in these people's hearts, which was equivalent to telling them: if you don't speak up, others will want you dead; if you speak up, at least I will know why you are afraid.

These kinds of words are most likely to shatter any lingering hope in a person's bones.

As expected, Pan, the registrar, couldn't hold on for long before finally speaking in a hoarse voice:

"It's...it's an old rule set by the registrar. If the roster isn't complete, fill the vacancies first; if you can't fill the vacancies, fill the roster first; only when the roster is complete can the rations and pay be disbursed..."

"Which way?" Meng Xuanzhe asked.

Pan, the registrar, dared not raise his head: "First we go to the warehouse, then the shops, and then... how will it be divided after that? I really dare not ask any further questions."

At this point, the line is quite clear.

The military register was first standardized, and then the provisions and pay were distributed according to the register. The grain in the granaries was moved out, and the merchants laundered the money. As a result, the military households, widows, and living soldiers did not receive their due share.

Complete and whole, a single chain.

Meng Xuanzhe sat behind the desk, remaining silent for a long time.

What he was thinking about was no longer whether Qingcheng County was bad or not, but how many more Qingcheng Counties would there be in the Later Shu Dynasty.

If a single county and a single platoon of soldiers can be this corrupt, what about other places? What about the border regions, transport hubs, and passes beyond Chengdu?

Thinking of this, the fire in his heart burned even more steadily.

Previously, when he inspected the granaries and grain, he was more aware of the seriousness of the problem; now, having obtained the troop registers, he truly realized—this wasn't just a few individuals stealing food. This was the entire system, and they were gnawing on their own bones.

When the bones are finally gnawed away, and the Song army actually arrives, what collapses first will not be the paper troops.

It's the life of a living person.

Gu Chengyan had finished comparing the several booklets, then looked up, his voice tense: "Your Highness, if we look at the existing military registers, old tallies, and ration books together..."

"This county's troop has 120 soldiers on paper, but in reality, less than 70 are usable."

"If we further deduct the sick, disabled, elderly, and those temporarily filling in for others—"

He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Those that can actually be lined up are probably... less than sixty."

The hall fell silent for a moment.

Not even sixty.

A troop of soldiers, with 120 men in the tent, but less than 60 are truly usable.

It was folded in half and more.

Gao Chengli stood to the side, feeling a buzzing in his head.

He finally understood why the military households at the city gate were so poor.

Because the dead are still eating food, while the living have to give up their spots to the dead.

With this kind of situation, let alone fighting a war, we can't even survive.

Cao Lie remained silent for a long time, then suddenly said in a low voice, "Your Highness, military manuals are dead, but people are alive."

Meng Xuanzhe looked at him.

Cao Lie raised his head, his eyes filled with a deep weariness.

"If you really want to know just how rotten this army is, you shouldn't just look at these papers in the county government office."

"We need to go see those who are still alive but are about to be devoured by the booklets."

Upon hearing this, Gu Chengyan was taken aback for a moment, but then he understood.

Military households.

Instead of going to the camp to look at the roster first, or listening to the military officers' explanations, we went to see the military households first.

Look at the wives and children of the dead. Look at the dilapidated houses of the wounded soldiers. Look at those who are listed as receiving rations but have no rice in their pots.

Accounts can lie, but people can't. Or rather, when people are on the verge of starvation, they don't even bother to lie anymore.

Meng Xuanzhe immediately felt reassured.

He had already understood about 70% of this chapter of the military manual.

The remaining 30% is not on paper, but in people.

He slowly stood up, his gaze sweeping over the military register, old badges, and pension book one by one, finally settling on Zhou Ling'an's face.

"Magistrate Zhou."

Zhou Ling'an tensed up: "Your humble servant is here."

"Tomorrow morning," Meng Xuanzhe said slowly, "take me to the military household village."

Zhou Ling'an's heart sank suddenly.

Junhu Village.

These are probably the three words he fears hearing most right now.

Because in a granary, one can claim negligence; in a grain store, one can claim a fire; and in a military register, one can claim old regulations. But in a military household village, once you enter, poverty is genuine poverty, and injuries are genuine injuries. The memorial tablets of the dead are placed inside the houses, and orphans and widows squat at the door. Even explanations easily seem like farts.

That place is the least concerned with appearances.

Meng Xuanzhe stopped looking at him and turned to instruct Gu Chengyan: "Seal all these books for tonight, not a single one is missing, especially the book for the attached guards."

"Yes."

"Make a note of the names of the old woman with the military token at the city gate, and the military families mentioned tonight," Meng Xuanzhe said. "I will visit each of them tomorrow."

Gao Chengli's eyelids twitched upon hearing this.

Your Highness is not planning to just visit one village; you intend to personally review the entire "Live People's Account."

This is very dangerous.

Because once he actually sees it, it will be much less effective for many people to try to fool him with terms like "old precedent," "oversight," "temporary suspension," or "pending allocation."

Meng Xuanzhe looked at everyone in the hall and suddenly smiled.

"The granary was searched, the grain was overturned, and the fire burned down."

"Now, it's the soldiers' turn."

He didn't say anything harsh, but for some reason, everyone in the room felt a chill down their spine.

They all understood.

From today onwards, this prince has truly taken the pilot program involving this county, this granary, and this troop of soldiers to the bone.

It's not just for show, not a show of force, and not about checking a couple of books or arresting a few minor officials to report back.

He genuinely intended to pull this troop of soldiers out of the paper and see how many were still alive.

And this is precisely the part that many people least want him to see.

A night breeze blew in from outside the hall, causing the lamplight to flicker slightly.

As Gu Chengyan put away the military register, he suddenly said in a low voice, "Your Highness, if this troop really only has less than sixty soldiers left to use, then if there is a sudden change in Qingcheng County, we won't even be able to build a decent framework to defend the city."

Meng Xuanzhe nodded.

"so--"

He looked out into the deep night, his voice soft yet steady.

"This pilot program cannot focus solely on warehouses and grain."

"It will fall on the soldiers."

After the military register was completed, Meng Xuanzhe did not announce that "the military reorganization is complete".

He only wrote at the end of the book: "The available personnel are yet to be determined; they need a short training period of twenty days. We cannot fight for the time being; we can only protect the grain, guard the granaries, watch the roads, and seal the gates."

Upon seeing this line of text, Cao Lie breathed a sigh of relief.

What I fear most is not that the crown prince looks down on mediocre soldiers, but that he uses them as elite troops. In that case, it won't be soldiers on paper who die, but real people.