Chapter 1089 - South Gate Guanxiang

Laizhou City teemed with officials. Beyond Sun Yuanhua and the local authorities—Prefect Zhu and Magistrate Hong—along with the garrison military officers, there was also Shandong Regional Inspector Wang Daochun. According to the historical trajectory, February would bring an influx of officials and generals to Laizhou: Commander-in-Chief Yang Yufan, routed at Xincheng; newly appointed Shandong Governor Xu Congzhi; and, by rights, Xie Lian as well—though with Sun Yuanhua still alive and in position, whether the latter would take over as Governor of Dengzhou and Laizhou remained uncertain. Additionally, the Army-Supervising Eunuchs Xu Deshi and Zhai Sheng would arrive in due course.

Among the rural gentry, a group of retired luminaries had also gathered. Foremost among them was Jia Yuxiang, former Vice Censor-in-Chief of the Left. Somewhat lower in standing was Zhang Xin, a Jinshi from the fifth year of Tianqi, now dismissed and idle at home. All of them had joined the Defense of Laizhou.

These men were shrewd observers. His column of "village militia" inevitably bore too many traces of the Short-hairs. Though the Great Ming lacked CCTV News, officials kept reasonably well-informed—they likely held some vague notion about the firearms-wielding pirates operating out of Guangdong. Both in principle and in practice, excessive exposure before such eyes was inadvisable.

Sun Yuanhua was no fool; hearing Lü Zeyang's words, he immediately grasped the implication. Though ignorant of what history held in store, he had already received intelligence that Xu Congzhi would soon be entering the city. He entirely agreed that the newcomer ought to avoid unnecessary complications.

"Where does Strong man Lü wish to station his troops?" Sun Yuanhua nodded his assent to the request.

Lü Zeyang had already considered this question during the journey. Remaining inside the city meant mingling with the various host and guest armies that would soon converge. Historically, relations between such forces were rarely harmonious. Even with officials keeping order, his hundred-odd men would inevitably find themselves entangled in petty conflicts. Balancing relationships with every faction would prove exhausting.

Moreover, intelligence projections from the Great Library's History Research Group indicated that Sun Yuanhua would likely lose his governorship. Even if he retained the post, Xu Congzhi's presence in the city would make it difficult for Sun to maintain absolute authority. Lü Zeyang's force was small. Without Sun Yuanhua's backing, they risked being expended as cannon fodder.

By every consideration, stationing outside the city walls was the wisest course. Yet the location could not be too distant—isolated and unable to intervene at critical moments, he would defeat the purpose of coming to Laizhou in the first place. After careful deliberation, he expressed his willingness to lead his troops to the guanxiang—the suburban district immediately outside the city gates. Specifically, the guanxiang beyond the South Gate.

Compared to the suburbs of the other three gates, the area outside the South Gate was relatively desolate. The grounds beyond the walls were dominated by ancestral halls and cemetery courtyards belonging to wealthy households, leaving many buildings empty and well-suited for quartering troops. More importantly, this position lay closer to Hutuya, Laizhou's primary harbor—convenient for coordination with the navy at sea.

In Ming Dynasty siege warfare, defenders invariably sought to establish camps outside the walls when conditions permitted, forming forward positions to directly protect the gates. Lü Zeyang's offer to defend the South Gate guanxiang was entirely consistent with standard defensive practice.

"Stationing at the South Gate guanxiang is acceptable," Sun Yuanhua said. "But with only a hundred men, how do you intend to hold it?"

He appreciated the young man's courage in volunteering for the position, though it struck him as rather overconfident. By his own calculations, defending the South Gate guanxiang would require at least five hundred combat soldiers, supplemented by militia and conscript laborers—and even that might prove insufficient. A great quantity of firearms from Dengzhou would likely be transported by the rebels for their assault. When that time came, five hundred men might not be enough to plug the gaps.

"Surely the Lord is aware that our firearms are formidable—" Lü Zeyang made no attempt to hide the truth. "Against us, rebel soldiers are nothing but clay chickens and pottery dogs."

Such brazen arrogance was bound to provoke displeasure. Just as Sun Yuanhua began to frown, Lü Zeyang added: "Should the city have some surplus strength, transferring several hundred able militiamen to assist in battle would be greatly appreciated."

The implication was clear: he wanted militia, not government troops. Sun Yuanhua understood perfectly. Yet the thought of entrusting the South Gate guanxiang to a few hundred militiamen made him hesitate. On reflection, however, he acknowledged that he possessed precious few combat-capable soldiers. The guanxiang would likely fall regardless—perhaps it was better to conserve his professional troops for the direct defense of the city walls.

Though Lü Zeyang called these men village militia, their actual fighting capacity would surely match or exceed the regular soldiers of the Great Ming. Otherwise, how could they have defeated Commander-in-Chief He's army in Hainan?

"Very well!" Sun Yuanhua nodded. "You shall be stationed at the South guanxiang." He paused to consider. "The defense of the South Gate shall be personally overseen by this student."

"The Lord's wisdom shines!" Lü Zeyang thought Sun Yuanhua a sensible man indeed. During Ming Dynasty sieges, it was convention for the principal officials in a city to each assume responsibility for one gate. In the historical Defense of Laizhou, Xu Congzhi, Xie Lian, and others had each commanded a gate. Xu Congzhi was even killed by rebel artillery fire during the siege. If another official took charge, there would inevitably be awkward questions about the origins of this militia unit. With Sun Yuanhua directly responsible, matters became far more convenient.

As for the militia assigned to support them, Lü Zeyang was confident he could bring them under his control, employ them first as laborers, and ultimately absorb them entirely into the Advance Column.

"However, the South Gate still lacks a commanding general..." Sun Yuanhua remembered another problem. After all, Lü Zeyang was merely a "commoner" without official rank. As defender of the South guanxiang, he lacked proper title—making coordination with other units in the city decidedly awkward. With no trusted generals at his disposal, Sun Yuanhua found himself in a bind.

"Might I suggest General Zhang Tao for the South Gate command?" Lü Zeyang offered. Seeing Sun Yuanhua's astonishment, he lowered his voice and shared the news of Song Guanglan, Wang Zheng, Zhang Tao, and the others having been rescued.

"The Lord may rest assured—we have temporarily accommodated them on the island. Once they have rested a day or two, we shall escort them to Laizhou." He added meaningfully: "These gentlemen managed to fight their way out of the chaos when the city fell. Naturally, they are all men who deeply understand righteousness and know how matters stand. The Lord need not worry..."

"Excellent!" Sun Yuanhua's joy overflowed. The rescue of these men was welcome news to someone who had become all but a commander without an army. Yet they knew—at least partially—about his capture. Lü Zeyang's words carried a clear subtext: these officials were prepared to conceal what had transpired. Everyone was on the same line now. As long as narratives remained unified, there was no need to worry about the capture being exposed.

Sun Yuanhua immediately gave further instructions, then summoned an advisor to take his handwritten order and escort Lü Zeyang to meet with Zhu Wannian. All militia entering the city to assist in defense had to register at the prefectural yamen, reporting their numbers and weapons so that grain and military pay could be properly issued. Supplemental weapons would be distributed as circumstances required.

Walking along the main north-south avenue of Drum Tower Street in Ye County seat, gazing at the weathered façade of Laizhou Prefectural Yamen in the near distance, Senator Lü Zeyang could not suppress a strange sense of dislocation.

Though Lü Zeyang and Lu Yang differed by only a single character, they shared no kinship whatsoever. Lu Yang hailed from Ningxia; Lü Zeyang's family came from Shandong—more precisely, from Laizhou City of Yantai, Shandong. This was none other than Ye County, the seat of Laizhou Prefecture where Sun Yuanhua now resided. It was precisely this connection that had prompted the Senate to liberate him from the crushing audit work of the Cheka and dispatch him to the Laizhou front when Engine Action reached its critical phase. When it came to familiarity with Laizhou's landscape and customs, no one in the entire Senate could surpass him. Setting aside everything else, the authentic Laizhou dialect spoken by the Special Reconnaissance Team warriors and undercover intelligence agents had been personally taught by Senator Lü Zeyang himself.

While some naturalized citizens—refugees or deserters from the three eastern prefectures, like Huang Ande—did exist among their ranks, most had come from Dengzhou Prefecture further east, corresponding to the later Weihai and Yantai regions. The dialect there and Laizhou speech diverged to such a degree that one could distinguish speakers by ear alone. This had proved a considerable headache for the Executive Committee during the Engine Action planning phase. When they simply could not locate naturalized citizens of Laizhou origin, they were forced to bring Senator Lü in as a last resort to train the operatives. Fortunately, Laizhou's population composition had remained largely stable from late Ming through the entire Qing Dynasty, and the dialect was well preserved. According to feedback from the Engine Forward Command, Senator Lü's dialect instruction had produced "excellent results."

In truth, during the preparation phase of Engine Action, Senator Lü had yearned to return to his "hometown"—at least in the geographical sense—to see it with his own eyes. Regrettably, he was neither military personnel nor expendable background actors. As a professional accounting graduate from Xiamen University, Senator Lü represented scarce financial and accounting talent even within the well-staffed Finance and Economics Department. Moreover, he was one of the few who had worked in both the National Tax Bureau and the Inspection Bureau, intimately familiar with organizational structures. Cheng Dong and Yi Fan had always relied on him as primary labor. During the founding stages of departments like the Cheka and the General Administration of Taxation, Senator Lü had charged at the front lines. And the launch of Engine Action happened to coincide with year-end tax accounting season. Senator Lü had practically relived his days as an intern at the accounting firm—cup after cup of coffee from dawn to midnight, buried in mountainous year-end reports in a smoke-filled office, battered and bleary-eyed...

Senator Lü, busy until his eyes turned bloodshot, had missed the opportunity to join the first batch of personnel dispatch. He held strong personal opinions about this. After all, the reason he had abandoned his ordinary civil servant life to join the crossing was precisely to forge a career. Senator Lü harbored a grand ambition: to take T.V. Soong as his model—that legendary God of Wealth—and establish a Senate version of the Tax Police General Regiment, or as he preferred to call it, an Armed Financial Guard!

Tax police were powerful departments established for anti-smuggling and combating tax evasion, existing in nations with substantial local authorities like Russia and Italy, but not in modern China. The Tax Inspection Bureau possessed only auditing powers; combating tax evasion fell to the Economic Crime Investigation Division of the Public Security Bureau, which wasn't even as well-equipped as Customs—at least they had dedicated anti-smuggling police. Of course, the ultimate tax police remained Brother-in-law T.V. Soong's Tax Police General Regiment. Under the Senate system, this was naturally impossible. But following Italy's example and establishing a small-scale, quasi-military "Armed Financial Guard" had found considerable favor with several Finance and Economics Department leaders. As their influence expanded, Yi Fan had increasingly felt that his department needed to keep a grip on the gun barrel—otherwise, the name "Cheka" would be wasted.

(End of Chapter)