Chapter 593 - Organizational System

Over the span of a few months, Lin Baiguang had intensified infiltration activities against the various yamens of Qiongzhou Prefecture. Working through Ma Benyuan's local connections and wielding the Gou family ledger as leverage for blackmail, he had swiftly penetrated most government offices. He had not only established a network of relationships targeting middle and lower-level figures—private advisors, clerks, yamen runners—but had also successfully bribed the servants of several principal local officials. Now, if needed, he could learn what book the Prefect of Qiongzhou had been reading the previous evening by the following morning.

"The reason I advocate increased investment here is not to add standing intelligence personnel. We already possess considerable strength in this location—enough to guarantee the safety of inexperienced newcomers operating here. The purpose is to use Qiongshan County as an internship ground for intelligence personnel."

This was novel thinking. Jiang Shan reflected: "Internship in a relatively secure 'enemy-occupied area'?"

"Precisely," Lin Baiguang nodded. "Qiongshan County is a microcosm of local Ming society. Though somewhat less prosperous than other areas, its government operations and social structures are highly representative. The experience our intelligence personnel—whether Elder or indigenous—gain from activities here will prove far more valuable than internships in places like East Gate Market. At minimum, they'll experience the tension of operating in hostile territory."

"Can their safety be guaranteed?"

"Absolutely." Lin Baiguang was confident. "If anyone gets caught, I have means to extract them—though it will cost money, of course."

"Good. I've noted this matter."

He continued: "I'm actively training two indigenous intelligence personnel, originally hoping to groom one to replace me in Qiongshan. But recently I've realized the difficulty—they're simply too young, needing another five or six years to reach twenty. It's not a question of ability; it's that in Great Ming, age is crucial for conducting social activities." He cleared his throat. "Excessively young people struggle to command sufficient respect and trust. They're easily dismissed. Naturally, if we're infiltrating lower-class society, this hardly matters. But if we're using merchant identities or other professions that require contact with government and gentry, ages above twenty-five or twenty-six are preferable. I hope the Bureau will attend to this when selecting the next cohort of indigenous intelligence trainees."

"I see." Jiang Shan nodded thoughtfully. He recalled the files of the graduated indigenous intelligence personnel training classes he had reviewed—without exception, all were under twenty.

Chen Tianxiong had remained silent until now. "We've run several training classes, all training teenagers—what use is this? Constantly emphasizing loyalty, but loyalty alone doesn't get things done."

Teenage boys and girls could generally handle only office work; deployed externally, they were capable only of simple errand-running and making inquiries. This was a serious impediment to launching large-scale operations.

"Furthermore, intelligence training should have focus and must incorporate practical skills." Chen Tianxiong elaborated. "I reviewed their training materials—the content is essentially identical to the General Bureau of Political Security's, with heavy emphasis on illegal activity techniques. Completely unnecessary. What kind of intelligence personnel do we actually need? Nothing more than people who can accurately report enemy movements and numbers, local social sentiment, economic conditions. Ninety percent of this is open intelligence—it merely requires additional effort to collect and organize. There's no need to go to great lengths teaching surveillance, kidnapping, arson, and such. That's not intelligence collection—that's intelligence warfare.

"My requirement for indigenous intelligence personnel is this: they need only master basic intelligence collection skills. They must know how to count. They should recognize a few characters. Ideally they can write reports; if not, the ability to accurately articulate what they've seen and heard is sufficient. Teach them simple tradecraft; beyond that, nothing else is needed. And there's no requirement for them to be utterly loyal and tested by fire. Suitable secrecy protocols and organizational systems can ensure that even if they're captured or defect, the broader operation remains unaffected. Low-level intelligence personnel can essentially be treated as consumables."

"They should also be taught cover and survival skills," Lin Baiguang added. "Knowing one or two trades, or possessing skills like chanting sutras and fortune-telling, allows intelligence personnel to use professions as cover for mobility."

"Of course, we can also cultivate high-level specialists specifically. But I oppose directly training elite intelligence personnel from scratch—such a system is unworkable. We should select outstanding performers from ordinary intelligence personnel who have worked in the field for some time, then provide them advanced education." Chen Tianxiong continued developing his intelligence personnel training theory.

These were genuinely constructive suggestions. Listening to frontline personnel was indeed invaluable. Jiang Shan nodded to himself. He had considered some of these points, but had not yet organized them systematically. Now these two articulated matters far more comprehensively than he could have.

"Very well. Going forward, we'll train intelligence personnel according to this approach." Jiang Shan immediately validated their suggestions. "Hearing you lay it out, the thinking crystallizes considerably. Comrades on the front lines clearly think through matters more thoroughly."

"You flatter us," Lin Baiguang replied with modest courtesy.

Seeing the atmosphere grow more harmonious, Jiang Shan continued: "Regarding the launch of intelligence work, my thinking runs as follows:

"We divide intelligence work into two major categories. The first encompasses systematic, planned collection and compilation of stability information from various regions—materials easily filed for reference. For example: map surveying, traffic investigation, logistics and economic situation analysis, products, manpower, political composition and diplomatic tendencies, historical evolution, copies of gazettes and extracts of important publications, long-term garrison conditions, overviews of major public and military facilities... and so forth."

"Archived in the Master Intelligence Database?" Wang Ding jotted notes.

"Yes. Sources for this intelligence can draw on various departments, including institutions like overseas stations, or we can dispatch specialized personnel to these locations for on-site investigation under cover of doing business, studying, or wandering. Given the slow pace of development in ancient society, data obtained from one investigation might remain valid for over a decade."

"That's excessive—" Lin Baiguang shook his head. "Verification every year or two remains necessary, particularly for traffic conditions and public sentiment. These are not peaceful times. The seventeen years of the Chongzhen reign are essentially an era of accelerating chaos. Society is changing rapidly."

"Broadly speaking, yes." Jiang Shan decided not to quibble over details, pressing forward. "This data is enormously useful not only to military departments but also to economic and industrial ones. Queries can be opened according to security clearance—including indigenous cadres within the system. Such intelligence can be obtained and transmitted through open and semi-open methods, distinct from other intelligence operations. We won't need to invest many professional personnel; we can adopt a government-supervised, merchant-managed model."

Jiang Shan's "government-supervised, merchant-managed" concept resembled the model by which Guangzhou Station had cultivated the Qiwie Escort Agency—establishing various enterprises along traffic arteries and in important towns. Most staff could be locally recruited rather than dispatched from Lingao, with only a handful of intelligence personnel embedded among them.

"Such enterprises can simultaneously provide logistical support, goods flow, and transportation routes for intelligence personnel. Multiple birds with one stone." Jiang Shan said. "At the same time, the enterprise's own operations ensure we don't need excessive funding support. We only spend startup costs, then let it sustain itself through its own profits."

"This is a memo I found in materials transferred from the former Intelligence Resources Committee archives," Wang Ding said. "Dated August 1629. It coincides with your thinking."

"Is that so? I didn't see it." Jiang Shan expressed mild surprise.

"A few more boxes of materials arrived yesterday," Wang Ding explained. "Let's look first."

To: Intelligence Resources Committee

From: Grand Library - Historical Data Research Group, First Class Historical Data Researcher: Yu E-shui

Subject: Yu E-shui's views on the intelligence system and evaluation of memo K/BW/290322.77.

Confidential! Single copy only, restricted to business-related personnel!

...

Intelligence agencies require supplementary materials. For reference, consider Japan's continental Ronin activities. The Lingao organization could actively dispatch Ronin groups—enthusiastic and loyal—to penetrate northward and southward, collecting intelligence through running schools, opening shops, and conducting business.

This work is a highly specific and enormous spontaneous undertaking, requiring strictly educated indigenous elites who feel spontaneously that their dreams cannot be realized step-by-step within Lingao's existing system—that only by taking initiative toward the vast continent can they ascend to heaven in one bound...

...The military, General Bureau of Political Security, and other relevant departments can participate jointly, implementing key leadership and business guidance work. But they should not interfere in specific business activities. This is a semi-open intelligence agency that can coordinate with other power departments, as well as an in-depth organization for collecting vast quantities of physical books and Ming Dynasty materials for advisory agencies...

...

Launching foreign intelligence work into powerful long-range reconnaissance too hastily is, in my personal view, inadvisable... The Special Reconnaissance Team's scale is insufficient to support such widespread operations... Staff-ride style field investigation can be conducted entirely through the intelligence system's public institutions.

...

The Military Intelligence Bureau can establish two organizations... First: inland river/coastal boat assassination teams, utilizing the advantage of silent close-combat weapons in the chaos of pirate and river grain transport, eliminating certain enemy leaders without a trace. Dutch "Ghost Ships" could operate everywhere; in coastal cities with intelligence personnel and Ronin group reception capability, light decapitation operations could be executed to deter enemies. Second: adopt ultra-long-range reconnaissance training, targeting the capability for light infantry squads to survive in wilderness conditions comparable to Discovery Channel's Bear Grylls across South China mountains... These are essentially hard probes of mountain infantry, specifically targeting local armed forces like mountain bandits and river pirates. Regular army plain warfare doesn't need them; the primary future use of such special armed forces is suppression of guerrillas and local bandits...

...

Lin Baiguang nodded. He recalled this material, though not vividly. At the time, however, the Intelligence Resources Committee lacked clear organization, and the General Bureau of Political Security showed little enthusiasm—so the matter had been shelved.

"What is this 'Military Intelligence Bureau'?" Jiang Shan grew alert at the term. He had recognized the chaos pervading the Transmigration Group's intelligence system within days of taking over. Small wonder Lin Baiguang showed no interest in headquarters work, constantly seeking field assignments.

"At that time, both Army and Navy proposed establishing a specialized Military Intelligence Bureau. Later, someone submitted a detailed memo discussing the organizational structure." Lin Baiguang said. "But the plan consumed too many resources, and the Executive Committee showed no interest. The matter was shelved. The second half of Yu E-shui's memo should be addressing that proposal."

"And then?"

"Nothing further." Lin Baiguang said. "That memo should still be in the Intelligence Resources Committee archives. You can retrieve it."

Jiang Shan sensed that Lin Baiguang and Chen Tianxiong were unwilling to delve deeper into this matter. He decided to table the subject temporarily and return to his "government-supervised, merchant-managed" intelligence system.

"...Yu E-shui's thinking is broader than mine." Jiang Shan observed. "According to his conception, we can expand our channels considerably. Not necessarily through enterprises or businesses—religious facilities or schools could work as well."

"In this aspect, we can cooperate deeply with the Religious Affairs Office." Wang Ding noted. "Didn't Daoist Zhang already declare his position?"

"Hmph. If you want to cooperate with him, you'll have to help him apply for personnel—that's his biggest headache." Lin Baiguang smiled. "You really think Daoist Zhang is cooperating sincerely, offering a free lunch?"

Wang Ding said: "If you want someone to exert effort, providing some benefits is only right and natural."

"If his New Taoism can truly become as powerful as he claims, I think helping him secure some personnel is well deserved. Everyone benefits." Chen Tianxiong added. "People like monks and Taoists can wander openly everywhere; the government pays them little attention. Spreading rumors is also their specialty."

"Regarding this kind of dispatched intelligence agency, I personally believe it's best not to form an open chain or branch model, to avoid one agency's exposure implicating the entire network." Jiang Shan said. On this point, he had reservations about the Qiwie Escort Agency's extensive chain system—though better left unsaid. At this stage, they still needed Qiwie's cooperation. Later, he intended to gradually build his own system—or something resembling Yu E-shui's "Black Dragon Society" model.

"As for personnel management, we can draw from the reconnaissance network system operated by Zhao Manxiong." Jiang Shan said. Following the formal establishment of the Foreign Intelligence Bureau, Zhao Manxiong had sent a memo briefing him on the reconnaissance network the General Bureau of Political Security had deployed in counties surrounding Lingao—and expressed that this resource "could be shared in certain ways."

Though Jiang Shan found this posture somewhat objectionable, he presently commanded few soldiers and generals; without demonstrable performance, he had no choice but to swallow his pride. Moreover, the Executive Committee's instructions had clearly stated: no need to invest excessive energy in intelligence work on Hainan Island itself. And the PSB had currently deployed the reconnaissance network only to a handful of counties near Lingao, not rolling out on a large scale. Disputing this with the PSB was pointless. Besides, in many respects, he still required the PSB's professional guidance and operational cooperation. The organizational structure of this reconnaissance network came from PSB Office Director Wu Mu, who had enthusiastically offered to provide faculty support for intelligence personnel training.

The reconnaissance network stationed one reconnaissance instructor per district, supervising two to four reconnaissance groups. Each group comprised three people, one of whom served as group leader. When membership reached five, the group split into two. No horizontal contact occurred between instructors; no horizontal contact between group leaders. Vertical reporting and guidance proceeded by level. The reconnaissance instructor commanded all district reconnaissance work, collecting reports from group leaders and feeding intelligence back via traffic stations.

Jiang Shan moved on to discuss "Second Category Work" in intelligence operations—namely, covert line operations targeting confidential information and uncertain events, such as undercover agents infiltrating the enemy regime's core. Their value was comparatively high. Such covert line personnel would employ the traffic officer single-line model for direct contact. No contact would occur with the local reconnaissance network.

"I personally believe deep-sea sleeper agents have no value." Chen Tianxiong opposed this flatly. "At most, we're a dozen years from overthrowing Great Ming. Why bother with sleeper agents? Understanding what Chongzhen thinks or what he writes on memorials holds little significance for us."

"At minimum, we can grasp the opponent's strategic moves."

"I don't deny that, but the cost required to reach that level compared to the benefit is simply too disproportionate." Chen Tianxiong cautioned Jiang Shan. "We know virtually nothing about the Great Ming system. Transmigrators bear no resemblance to ancients. To infiltrate the enemy interior—let alone ascend to high levels and the core—is purely fantastical. Even if some Elder went mad with the desire to go undercover, I would oppose it. This would be sending them to their deaths."

Lin Baiguang coughed. "Not quite to the point of death. Infiltrating the enemy interior still has value. Naturally, reaching the highest levels is probably impossible. My personal view: there's no need to deliberately pursue opportunities to infiltrate the enemy interior, but we shouldn't dismiss suitable opportunities when they arise. Maintaining a few sleeper agents or relationships embedded in the enemy system remains useful." He offered a reminder. "Consider our Tang Monk Plan. Preliminary preparations for that plan are already complete."

"The difficulty with the Tang Monk Plan is that it's nearly impossible for a modern person to impersonate a Great Ming official. It amounts to completely re-educating and reshaping someone," Chen Tianxiong said. "If it fails, the losses are severe."

"Is the Tang Monk Plan still being implemented?" Jiang Shan had encountered this operation plan among stacks of files, with rich supporting materials—staff-ride reports by Bei Wei, various social surveys from Leizhou Station—but no follow-through.

"Technically, the Tang Monk Plan was never cancelled," Chen Tianxiong said. "The problem is: who volunteers to be the imposter official?"

"Indeed. And according to the plan, once the First Five-Year Plan concludes, Leizhou will be ours anyway. Going to impersonate that Prefect seems somewhat redundant."

(End of Chapter)