Chapter 2172 - Strategy and Judgment
Reality, as it turned out, exceeded even Zhu Mingxia's cynical expectations for feudal society's moral basement. Xiong Wencan, desperate and out of options, unleashed his strategy of "soldiers-turned-bandits"—and the response was enthusiastic. Scattered Ming troops across Guangdong swiftly transformed into bandit gangs. Government forces that had nominally surrendered and been assigned to "temporarily guard cities" abandoned their posts en masse to join the plunder. Officers and soldiers who'd retreated to Guangxi streamed back across the border in droves.
Most alarming was the participation of local "tuhao" and "xiangxian"—the landed tyrants and village worthies. Initially content with a defensive posture of "guarding their communities," the bandit feeding frenzy proved too tempting. They abandoned restraint and joined the carnival of theft. In mountainous counties where tensions between native populations and Hakka settlers already simmered, the breakdown of order ignited mutual expulsion and looting—a chaotic free-for-all.
The situation resembled a tangled knot, yet Xu Ke's analysis cut through the confusion: despite the dazzling proliferation of bandit groups, the movement lacked a spine. No leader of Li Zicheng's or Zhang Xianzhong's caliber had emerged to consolidate these disparate forces. Though Guangxi actively encouraged and materially supported the chaos, no high-level commander had returned to Guangdong to "preside over the overall situation." In the immediate term, these scattered gangs couldn't coalesce into a force of strategic consequence. Beyond terrorizing common people, they posed limited threat to the larger campaign.
But time changed everything. If this bandit chaos persisted, eventually the waters would recede and reveal the rocks beneath. A leader with genuine charisma and organizational talent would inevitably rise. Then these scattered "bandit gangs" would evolve into "roving insurgents"—the very progression that had elevated Li, Zhang, and Cao from bandits to forces that nearly toppled the dynasty.
Based on this assessment from the Foreign Intelligence Bureau, Zhu Mingxia sought Xi Yazhou's approval and proposed the Public Security Rectification of West Guangdong.
The plan itself was straightforward. Primary objectives: restore security around Lianshan, contain the "Yao disturbance" within Lianzhou, halt the uprising's expansion. Simultaneously, suppress bandits along the advance route, restore normal order to affected counties, and use military force to install naturalized citizen county magistrates and National Army companies in each county seat to rebuild governance.
"The mission's core is preventing the Yao disturbance from spreading while restoring local order," the briefing staff officer declared at the combat meeting, confidence radiating from his posture.
The operational specifics called for forming the Sui River Detachment, built around Yang Zeng's 8th Battalion and an artillery battery. They would advance first to Sihui, then ascend the Sui River to secure Guangning and Huaiji—both cities where Ming garrison forces had dissolved and social order collapsed into chaos.
After occupying Huaiji, forces would split to advance on Lianzhou, employing combined suppression and pacification to trap Yao armed forces as rapidly as possible, preventing them from spreading to neighboring regions or allying with bandit formations.
The General Staff's projections identified three possible directions for Yao expansion: west to Wuzhou to merge with Guangxi Yao communities; east to Ruyuan to incite local Yao uprisings that would directly threaten the Central Route Army's flank; or advance toward the West River to instigate the Luoding Yao.
If the Lianshan Yao attempted to reach Wuzhou, only two routes existed—west through Hezhou or south through Huaiji. Hezhou remained garrisoned by Guangxi Ming troops who, while happy to see Yao rebellions in Guangdong, wouldn't permit passage through their territory. That left Huaiji as the inevitable route to Wuzhou. Moreover, the Sui River—which flowed through Huaiji, Guangning, and Sihui—originated in Lianshan. The detachment could advance upriver to conquer Huaiji and strike directly at Lianshan, or withdraw downstream to defend Guangning and Sihui while coordinating with the Central Route Army in Qingyuan. If circumstances changed, they could sail back to Zhaoqing in mere days.
"This operation is thirty percent military, seventy percent political," Zhu Mingxia announced after the staff officer concluded his presentation. "Especially you National Army officers—after reaching your stations, you must cooperate fully with our cadres. Your mission isn't simply bandit suppression; you must win hearts and minds. For specific directives, defer to local cadres upon arrival. Obey their leadership!"
While Zhu Mingxia conducted his combat briefing, in another Zhaoqing building, Huang Chao had just dragged himself from bed. He'd arrived in Guangzhou from Hainan only days earlier, violently seasick the entire voyage, eating almost nothing, practically carried ashore to the Guangzhou Municipal Government Guesthouse. Before he could properly recover, he'd been bundled onto another ship bound for Zhaoqing.
"No matter how badly the Eight Row Yao are rampaging, at least let me catch my breath..." Huang Chao had complained to Wen Desi, who'd come to see him off to his "new post," before boarding.
"Don't you claim expertise in Ming Dynasty Yao affairs?" Wen Desi offered no sympathy, speaking bluntly. "When you served as County Director in Lingshui, your 'Li Pacification' results were exemplary. The situation is critical now. The Eight Row Yao in Lianzhou are creating havoc. These problems can't be solved purely by force—we need coordinated military and administrative approaches. The Senate won't trust a naturalized citizen magistrate for this. Neither will I."
So Huang Chao boarded the ship—victim, as he ruefully acknowledged, of his own reputation. No one to blame but himself.
Before D-Day, Huang Chao had been a finance graduate who'd worked several years as a township civil servant. Bored with rural bureaucracy, he'd signed up for the transmigration and become part of the expedition. After D-Day, because his parents had operated a medium-sized chicken farm in the old timeline and he'd helped since childhood, he was deemed "familiar with poultry operations" and assigned to the Agriculture Department to oversee the few chickens brought from the future.
After growing restless in the Agriculture Department, he caught the wave of external assignments and transferred to serve as Director of the Lingshui County Office—effectively becoming "County Magistrate."
Lingshui County's Han Chinese population was minimal, only a few thousand registered residents. Most inhabitants were Li people. To accomplish anything in Lingshui required navigating "Li Pacification"—an unavoidable hurdle.
Huang Chao's township civil service experience gave him intimate grassroots knowledge. He was also an enthusiastic learner. He devoured relevant literature, exhausted the Great Library's archival materials, and launched a sideline in policy research and strategic studies. He published several papers: "Research on Hainan Li People," "A Brief Talk on Lingshui Governance Experience," "Research on Liangguang Local-Guest Relations," "Research on Ming Dynasty Yao Disturbances," and "Research and Countermeasures on Liangguang Ethnic Problems." He'd effectively positioned himself as the Senate's resident expert on ethnic affairs.
Leveraging his township civil servant methodology, centuries of accumulated data, plus cooperation from a small but effective garrison and missionary personnel from the New Taoism and Jesuit groups, his Lingshui governance proved impressive. He executed substantial construction projects, earning acclaim within the Administration Council. He became recognized as an "administrative talent proficient in ethnic issues."
Such talent couldn't be wasted in Hainan's stable rear areas. Once the Mainland Campaign plan was approved, he was transferred back to Lingao ostensibly for "cadre training for the Northward Detachment"—though he recognized this as transparent pretense. The Administration Council would inevitably assign him to Guangdong as a local official. Yao power in Ming Dynasty Guangdong was formidable; the Fubo Army's advance would certainly trigger chain reactions.
Sure enough.
The day after news of the Eight Row Yao uprising reached Lingao, Huang Chao and his wife Huang Su took leave and brought their son on a picnic, playing until dark before returning home. Upon arrival, they found a naturalized cadre from the Organization Department who'd been waiting outside their house for most of the day.
"The Director of the Organization Department requests you report to the Department first thing tomorrow morning. There's a new appointment."
The next day, he received his assignment: Lianzhou Administrative Commissioner.
At this moment, said Lianzhou Administrative Commissioner had yet to recover from travel fatigue. Large ships made him seasick—but what about small boats? Equally miserable, though in different ways. To save time, he'd ridden an upstream-patrolling Dafa gunboat. Not only did it run non-stop, but to prevent possible attacks, he'd been confined to the cabin for extended periods, enduring engine noise and coal smoke fumes until he thought he'd suffocate.
"How are you feeling? Any better?" The door swung open with a cheerful greeting. A senior Fubo Army officer entered—Bei Wei.
"Fine, fine." Huang Chao waved weakly. "That journey was pure torture."
"Have some energy drink." Bei Wei signaled the orderly to bring tea.
"I won't touch that stuff—it's coca water. Feels good going down, but drink too much and you're addicted." Huang Chao grabbed the teapot on the table and gulped several cups, feeling his head clear slightly. "You didn't rush over here just to check my health, did you?"
"Ha! Comradely concern is perfectly normal." Bei Wei settled into a chair. "You're about to assume office. Old Zhu will launch the Lianzhou offensive soon—you'll be both Lianzhou's parent official and our ethnic affairs expert. I wanted to discuss the current Yao disturbance with you specifically."
"I've read Xu Ke's report. His analysis seems quite comprehensive."
"It's not just a Lianzhou problem anymore." Bei Wei's expression turned serious. "After the Defense of Yao East and West Mountains Assistant Regional Commander withdrew, Luoding Prefecture's garrison strength evaporated. We've already received reports of Yao descending from mountains to raid villages. Intelligence suggests someone is coordinating among the Luoding Yao, apparently attempting to incite mass uprising, though we lack concrete evidence." He leaned forward. "You've seen our combat plan—the main force deploys north of the West River, advancing on Lianzhou to suppress the disturbance. If Luoding's Yao rise in rebellion while we're committed to Lianzhou, we'll be caught between two fronts. Extremely passive position. There's also the West River navigation issue—if Luoding Prefecture descends into chaos, the river route will be severely compromised. Some officers suggest preemptive action against the Luoding Yao." He paused. "You're the expert. I want your opinion."
Huang Chao felt momentarily stunned. Not because he lacked knowledge—he'd extensively studied the Liangguang Yao situation and formed clear judgments about Luoding—but once he voiced those judgments, they would directly influence the South China Army's strategic deployments and operational planning. If he was wrong, the consequences wouldn't be trivial.