Chapter 1086 - Post-War
Lu Wenyuan and Chen Sigen still disagreed with releasing the prisoners, considering it a sign of weakness. In the end, both sides reached a compromise: only the four-hundred-odd combat soldier prisoners would be released. The auxiliary soldiers would be transported back to Lingao and handed over to the Labor Camp for assignment.
As for the corpses littering the ground, Zhu Mingxia had wanted to incinerate them on the spot, but there was simply not enough firewood. Burial proved equally difficult—the ground was frozen solid. In the end, they decided that Lu Yang would dispatch Dafa boats to transport the bodies to open water for sea burial.
All recovered wounded were placed in the care of Xie Yao and his team of medics. Though Zhu Mingxia had instructed Xie Yao to spare no medicine so long as the patient could be saved without severe permanent disability, Shi Niaoren had specified before departure that naturalized medical officers needed more practical experience. But the abilities of Xie Yao and his subordinates remained limited. In short, dozens died each day.
Still, those who survived—whether missing arms or legs—would find a place for their talents in Lingao.
Ma Linxi was "picked up and brought back." After climbing onto the floating ice from the sea, he had been blasted by the freezing wind while soaking wet, and his body had grown nearly rigid. He managed to crawl onto the sandbar through sheer will to survive, then grabbed a fallen rebel banner to wrap around himself. But his body temperature gradually dropped, and he began to drift into a daze. If someone had not kicked him hard, he would likely have frozen to death.
The laborers from the refugee camp collecting survivors were extremely thorough. Whether a body lay face-up or face-down, so long as it formed a roughly complete human shape, they kicked it. Any reaction at all meant loading onto a wheelbarrow. Manor Lord Lu had said: one biscuit for every living person brought back.
Those biscuits had become hard currency in the refugee camp. Though their masters were kind, they never let the refugees eat their fill. So during collection duty, everyone worked intently to find as many survivors as possible. The masters had said that so long as the person was still breathing when delivered to Doctor Xie's post, it counted.
Ma Linxi was loaded onto a wheelbarrow in precisely this fashion. Beside him lay a combat soldier who had been shot through the chest and was bleeding continuously. Blood dripped onto him the entire journey. In this manner, he arrived at Xie Yao's temporary infirmary.
Doctor Xie's infirmary resembled a slaughterhouse—floor awash with blood, severed limbs scattered everywhere. Doctor Xie himself emerged covered in crimson, bloody pliers in hand. Ma Linxi nearly fainted from fright.
But Doctor Xie merely instructed his subordinates to cut away the rags clinging to Ma Linxi's body. After a careful examination and a few questions, he announced loudly: "Frostbite—prepare the large pot!"
Ma Linxi was convinced they were going to boil a living man. Before he could open his mouth to beg for mercy, two strong young men came over, lifted him up, and walked briskly for a dozen paces. Before them stood a shed containing an enormous pot—probably from the kitchen of some great temple. Fire burned beneath it, steam rising thick inside.
Before Ma Linxi could scream, the two men lowered him into the water.
Ma Linxi had been prepared for his skin to peel and his bones to rot. But unexpectedly, the water in the pot—though hot—was not scalding. He lay on a bamboo platform within, feeling his numbed body gradually regain sensation.
The two young men soaked him for more than ten minutes, then fished him out. They let him dry himself by the fire, then gave him a lined robe made of recycled cloth, stuffed with reed flowers, and a pair of reed sandals. Though wearing these was not exactly warm, at least he would not freeze to death.
Ma Linxi was then taken before a man who appeared to be a clerk. He reported his name, age, and native place. Upon learning he was a carpenter, he received a C-Card. This card was specially issued to refugees with technical expertise. According to the classification table developed by Yang Yun, Director of the Labor Department of the Civil Affairs People's Commission, craftsmen among recruited and recovered refugees were divided into thirteen categories and fifty-one types. Anyone matching one of these fifty-one types qualified for the C-Card supply standard.
This standard was slightly higher than the A-Card standard for ordinary refugees and slightly lower than the Z-Card standard. C-Card holders also formed a separate camp within the refugee facility. When transportation was arranged, they were also prioritized for early departure—Taiwan and Jeju currently required large numbers of technical personnel such as blacksmiths and carpenters.
Ma Linxi had no idea he had received special treatment. But seeing that he had clothes and shoes, and had received a bowl of warm porridge after registration, his eyes welled with tears of gratitude. At least he looked human again.
Zhu Mingxia summoned several captured Thousand-man Commanders and Patrol Leaders. Quite a few of these lower-ranking officers had been taken prisoner. Several had been kicked and beaten by other refugees the moment they entered the camp, and beaten to death on the spot. Zhu Mingxia had instructed his soldiers not to interfere, allowing the refugees to vent to their hearts' content—a demonstration of the Senate's glorious commitment to delivering justice to the people.
Zhu Mingxia selected seven or eight officers of higher status or men who had served as trusted aides to major rebel generals, instructing them to carry a message to Li Jiucheng, Kong Youde, and the others. He then turned over four hundred combat soldier prisoners to their care and allowed them to return to Dengzhou.
The officers had expected certain execution. Learning they were permitted to return to Dengzhou—and could bring back four hundred combat soldiers—they were moved to tears. Just as they were about to be escorted out, one man suddenly rose and saluted with clasped hands:
"The Master's benevolence and righteousness I shall never forget! May I also humbly request that General Mao's remains and head be returned? When Marshals Li and Kong learn of this, they too will appreciate the Master's virtue..."
"You people raised troops and invaded without cause. That I have not yet launched a punitive expedition against Huang County and Dengzhou is already mercy." Zhu Mingxia's voice dripped with scorn. "Still asking for remains and heads? Better worry about your own heads first."
The men trembled, glaring with resentful eyes at the officer who had dared request Mao Chenglu's corpse. Fortunately, the master said nothing further and waved for them to be led away.
Zhu Mingxia ordered the remaining dozen officer prisoners, along with a large collection of heads preserved in lime, rebel banners, and captured documents, loaded onto a ship. Lu Yang would dispatch men to deliver them to Laizhou for Sun Yuanhua—a fresh injection of stimulation for the dispirited city.
Zhu Mingxia calculated that after this major battle, Li Jiucheng and Kong Youde faced only two choices: either muster their entire strength for a massive assault to flatten Qimu Island in one stroke, or swallow their pride and accept the Northbound Detachment's freedom of movement within Huang County and beyond—perhaps even proceeding to cooperation.
Zhu Mingxia judged the first possibility unlikely. At their peak, the Dengzhou rebels—counting both Dongjiang veterans who had crossed the sea and conscripted able-bodied men—had numbered no more than ninety thousand. Now they had perhaps thirty or forty thousand, of whom those with genuine combat power were mainly the original Liaodong Dongjiang men and the remnants of Shandong and Southern soldiers who had surrendered. These troops numbered no more than ten thousand.
The force Mao Chenglu had brought represented a substantial portion of the rebels' true strength. If even these men had been utterly routed, Li Jiucheng and the others would never commit their entire army in a hot-headed assault. Doing so might take Qimu Island, but only at catastrophic cost to their own forces. They would not need the court to dispatch troops—Sun Yuanhua alone could finish them off.
This clearly did not serve the rebels' interests. Moreover, their primary objective was capturing Laizhou to gain maneuvering room, not fighting a life-or-death battle here.
The Dengzhou rebels, in the final analysis, possessed no true strategic vision. What they sought was immediate gain; long-term planning was beyond them. Their subordinates harbored divided minds. Consequently, they were unlikely to fight to the finish against the Northbound Detachment. Room for coexistence existed between the two sides.
Hmph. Let me see if you dare refuse my terms. Zhu Mingxia felt quite satisfied with himself. Beyond capturing large numbers of prisoners, this engagement had netted many horses. His scout cavalry could now be equipped with double or even triple mounts, vastly improving their mobility and increasing their sortie frequency.
After completing his immediate duties, Zhu Mingxia bathed. His thoughts turned to Ruhua. He immediately instructed someone to bring her and the others from the Z-Camp.
When Zhu Mingxia saw Ruhua again, she had bathed, rested for several days, and received adequate rations. Her complexion had recovered considerably.
By the standards of the era, Ruhua could hardly be called a beauty embryo. Her height, her build, her large feet—none conformed to prevailing aesthetic tastes. But in Zhu Mingxia's eyes, Ruhua easily scored eighty-five points. Her figure in particular reminded him strongly of a female classmate he had once pined for.
He felt his judgment had been brilliant. To be prudent, he decided to first inquire about her background and history.
Ruhua's life story was not particularly unusual in late-Ming society—it could not even be called especially miserable. It was simply a small microcosm of countless ordinary people struggling through troubled times.
Ruhua was born in a small village at the foot of a mountain in northern Jiangsu. She was the eldest in her family. Her father had been a local hunter. The family owned little land, but her father was skilled, and they lived reasonably well on the furs he brought in. Perhaps because she had eaten more meat than most from childhood, by age twelve she was taller than the average girl.
Last year, bandits had begun causing trouble near her hometown. The county yamen organized village braves to suppress them. Because her father could draw a bow and shoot arrows, he was conscripted. A few days later, the bandits were quelled. Her father returned home with an arrow wound. Soon he developed a high fever and fell unconscious. Her mother sold every family possession but failed to cure him. They were left with crushing debt. Her only option was to sell herself to a large household in a neighboring village as a domestic slave.
For reasons no one understood, this household had taken a fancy to this big-footed woman and intended to make her a concubine. They had been waiting for an auspicious day to formalize the arrangement when the master of the house drowned while playing in a river. The first wife decided Ruhua was an inauspicious woman who had cursed her husband to death. She had her beaten half to death and thrown out of the house. Ruhua wandered for months before being taken in by Troupe Leader Liu. Because she was too old to begin foot-binding, she took the name Ruhua and devoted herself to learning the pipa to accompany Siyu's singing voice.
When Ruhua finished telling her story, snowflakes had begun drifting from the sky once more. Zhu Mingxia stepped outside and watched the falling snow for a time. Then he turned to Ruhua and said:
"The name Ruhua is too ugly. You are not to use it hereafter." He paused, considering. "'Frogs croak for a thousand li in the bright summer; snow drifts for ten thousand li in the quiet cold.' From now on, you shall be called Jinghan. Tell your troupe leader that all of you have been purchased by the Senate. Go sign the indenture contracts."
Zhu Mingxia required Jinghan to keep her original surname, transforming Ruhua into Zhao Jinghan. After Zhao Jinghan departed, Zhu Mingxia summoned a messenger and gave him a few quiet instructions.
(End of Chapter)