Chapter 1057 - The Inside Man

To escape notice, Huang Ande had taken refuge in Sun Yuan's quarters within the barracks of the naval citadel. Though called barracks, the compound was more akin to a small town unto itself—a sprawling warren of soldiers and their families, with people coming and going at all hours. Some residents were neither military nor kin to anyone in uniform. In recent days, government offices had launched household registration sweeps, scrutinizing every stranger with ruthless intensity. Quite a few had been arrested; word had it that several had already lost their heads. Sun Yuan, however, was one of the Governor's household retainers, and such harassment did not touch his door. Huang Ande knew well that while the Chiefs were strict, they were never wanton in their killing—always cautious, always measured. Their slogans might thunder with menace, but they never executed without cause. Ming officials, by contrast, draped themselves in the language of benevolence and righteousness while killing with abandon—especially in tense times like these. A man could be walking down the street, and a careless glance or ill-timed gesture might see him dragged off and beheaded on the spot.

By remaining within the citadel, Huang Ande was gambling with his life. By tomorrow night, these walls would fall, and amid the chaos that followed, no one could predict what horrors might unfold. History remembered only the fates of the great figures; the Grand Library had found precious little about what befell ordinary civilians, craftsmen, and common soldiers after a city was sacked.

His situation was precarious in the extreme. Both he and Sun Yuan hailed from Dengzhou, and there had always been bad blood between local soldiers and the Liaodong rebels. Even if Kong Youde and Li Jiucheng intended to win hearts and minds, their men might well butcher locals for vengeance at the first opportunity.

Kong Youde held Sun Yuanhua in particularly high regard—not only had he spared the Governor's life, but rumor held he intended to proclaim him king. Yet such favor would not necessarily extend to a minor figure like Sun Yuan.

Huang Ande did not know the citadel would fall tomorrow. But before Dengzhou was besieged, he had been redeployed into the city, and before that, Chief Deer had personally summoned him for detailed instructions.

Deer Wenyuan's words had been blunt: "Dengzhou cannot be held. Neither can the naval citadel."

Huang Ande's mission was straightforward: remain hidden within the citadel, leverage the contacts he had cultivated, and monitor Sun Yuanhua's movements at all times—especially after the city fell. If possible, he should stay as close to the Governor as circumstances allowed.

"The mission is extraordinarily dangerous," Chief Deer had said. "First and foremost, you must survive inside the city. Are you confident?"

"Yes!" Huang Ande had answered without hesitation.

From the day he first altered his appearance and was dispatched to Dengzhou to "cultivate connections," he knew he was destined to become a spy.

Being a spy meant risking his life. He had long since made peace with that.

Huang Ande was not an especially ideologically driven man, but Lingao had granted him unprecedented opportunities for advancement. Besides, he believed in the old proverb: Fortune favors the bold.

Climbing the ranks through routine combat and unit expansion was painfully slow. To become a lieutenant or captain quickly—to secure one of those fine houses reserved for senior officers back at base—Huang Ande was willing to stake everything.

As for why the Chiefs wanted him to watch Sun Yuanhua, Chief Deer had not explained. But there was no doubt they intended to save the Governor.

The only reason Huang Ande could imagine for such an effort was that Chief Deer and the Governor shared the same faith. The notion seemed far-fetched, but his years in the Bravery Wave Army had taught him a cardinal rule: never ask questions he was not meant to ask.

His one voiced concern was this: what if Sun Yuanhua took his own life?

Huang Ande had served in the Ming army and understood the code. When a city fell, a high official of Sun Yuanhua's rank would either die fighting or end things by his own hand. He would never allow himself to be captured by rebels—otherwise the court would never forgive him, and his reputation would be irrevocably ruined.

"Do not worry," Deer Wenyuan had replied. "Governor Sun will absolutely not commit suicide."

Chief Deer offered no explanation, and Huang Ande did not press. Beyond his discipline about forbidden questions, he had grown accustomed to the Chiefs' seemingly prophetic powers. Their predictions were invariably accurate—the more significant the national affair, the more precise their foresight.

Outside, the night watch had commenced. All was deathly still. Huang Ande heard movement in the courtyard. He swung off the kang platform, revolver in hand, and thumbed back the hammer.

Then came three stones, dropped in succession into the yard. He quickly lowered the hammer—this was one of his own.

Since first arriving in Dengzhou, Huang Ande had cultivated more than twenty "contacts" within the naval citadel through carefully staged reunions, sworn brotherhood ceremonies, and invented family connections.

Some of these contacts were useful only for gathering information and were not particularly reliable. Others were childhood friends—former accomplices from his days stealing from government granaries, a capital offense if discovered.

Following the methods taught in the Chiefs' training sessions, Huang Ande had selected twelve of the most trustworthy and daring among them. Through timely small favors and gradual ideological cultivation, he had formed a small but loyal clique around himself. Sun Yuan counted among them.

This clique possessed no political ideology, but its members shared common traits: they were at odds with Dengzhou's Liaodong population; they harbored no affection for the Great Ming; their families struggled financially, with urgent desires to change their lot. And above all, they were fiercely loyal.

After Dengzhou came under siege, Huang Ande had quietly sounded them out at private gatherings, testing whether they would be willing to act when the moment arrived. All twelve had sworn that whatever "Big Brother Huang" or "Brother Huang" wished to do—so long as it served neither the "Liaodong people" nor the "Tartars"—they would follow him through fire and water without hesitation.

Tonight, he had instructed a younger brother at Sun Yuan's residence to summon the entire group.

He opened the door and stepped out. Seven or eight men already stood in the courtyard. In the dim night, he recognized every face—all personally recruited by his own hand.

They had not come through the main gate but had scaled the back wall from the alley behind. Anyone caught on the streets tonight would be executed without question.

"Inside," he whispered. "We talk there."

The men filed silently into the room. After confirming everyone had entered, Huang Ande turned and instructed Sun Yuan's younger brother to keep quiet watch in the courtyard.

Inside, he counted seven men. Sun Yuan was on duty at the Governor's office, and four others had not appeared.

"Old Sticky Lü chickened out," said Zhu Si—younger brother of Zhu San, his old accomplice in the granary theft. After Zhu San had taken the fall and lost his head, Zhu Si had managed to join the military with help from their comrades. He bore deep resentment toward both the army and the Great Ming. "Says he's got the runs and can't make it."

After reconnecting with Sun Yuan, Huang Ande had made a deliberate point of visiting the Zhu household. He had even wept at Zhu San's grave and given the family a generous sum of silver. He and Zhu Si had sworn brotherhood, with Huang Ande promising to look after him. Through all these gestures, he had successfully won Zhu Si's loyalty.

Besides the cowardly Old Sticky Lü, Huang Yang had also begged off. The remaining two were on duty and could not attend.

"No matter." Huang Ande did not light a lamp—talking in darkness was preferable. In the blacked-out encampment, a single flame would draw unwanted eyes.

"I've troubled you all to come tonight," Huang Ande began without excessive pleasantries. "As you know, Kong Youde and Li Jiucheng wait outside these walls. Regional Commander Zhang suffered another crushing defeat today—fewer than three in ten of his Southern troops survived. The city teems with Liaodong people. Even the Governor's personal guard is manned by Liaodong men—they all served together under Commander Mao as adopted sons. Their bond runs deep. Who knows when they might throw open the gates? I'd say this Dengzhou City and Penglai citadel won't hold much longer."

This was no alarmist talk. The Liaodong faction inside the city had been restless since the eleventh month; only through a careful balance of threats and inducements had the government maintained a semblance of order. Though Sun Yuanhua had worked tirelessly to display trust in the Liaodong commanders—hoping to maintain their loyalty—others were far less sanguine.

"The city will fall within days," said a soldier named Cao Qing. "The Liaodong people practically declare openly that they'll answer Kong Youde's call. Just a few days ago, Governor Sun ordered gunners pulled from the navy to man the cannon emplacements on the citadel walls—supposedly to guard against the Eastern River troops responding to Kong Youde."

Though order had been restored on the various Eastern River islands, Regional Commander Huang Long clearly exercised little control over the Eastern River veterans. His embezzlement of military pay and his practice of forcing soldiers to dig ginseng in the mountains had earned him their bitter hatred. Even common soldiers could see that the Eastern River veterans were quite likely to mutiny in support of Kong Youde.

Everyone feared what would follow the city's fall—that the rebels might unleash killing and burning in revenge against the old Shandong soldiers.

"I don't think there will be wholesale slaughter," Huang Ande said. "After all, this is their home base too. If they really let loose with massacre, plenty of their own would die."

Once an army began looting and killing, it became utterly uncontrollable—a bloody carnival of murder. The rebels would not distinguish between Liaodong people, Southerners, or Shandong natives. If Kong Youde and Li Jiucheng wished to retain popular support, they could not permit such chaos.

Zhu Si spoke up: "As long as we don't have old scores with the Liaodong people, we just need to lie low for the first three days after the city falls. After that, we should be safe. But then we'll have to join the rebellion."

The rebels would inevitably force the soldiers and civilians inside the city to "turn bandit." When that moment came, there would be no other choice.

The word rebellion silenced every man in the room.

"If we're going to rebel, so be it," Cao Qing said quietly at last. "But this kind of rebellion is pointless. The Liaodong people call all the shots. We'd just be used as cannon fodder."

"No." Huang Ande lowered his voice. In the darkness, he sensed every eye turning toward him. "We don't need to rebel."

"Brothers," he continued, "as the saying goes: Fortune favors the bold. The rebels breaking through is dangerous, yes—but we can't simply hide and let ourselves be pushed around afterward. A great fortune awaits us all. If you're willing to seize it."

(End of Chapter)