Chapter 2203 - Pacifying Yangshan (Part One)

At once, the dock and the small steamer erupted in wailing—mothers calling for children, children crying for parents—the scene was heartbreaking. Even Huang Chao found it hard to watch. An inexplicable longing for his own wife and child welled up, and he felt a measure of sympathy for the old man. He consoled Peng Shou'an: "Old Peng, don't grieve. Once things here are finished, we'll go to Lingao together. You can visit your son, and I can spend time with mine—we'll enjoy the joys of family."

Peng Shou'an felt a warmth in his chest. Suddenly this Australian commander seemed more approachable. Involuntarily, he said: "I only hope these affairs are concluded soon, that Lianyang and the other places may achieve peace, and the people may enjoy well-being."

After this episode, the surrendered officials' attitudes all shifted—to some degree. With their families in Australian hands, they had no choice but to exert themselves.

Peng Shou'an returned to Yangshan. Huang Chao gave him a set of instructions to cooperate with County Magistrate Wang Chuyi. The title of "Yangshan County Director" that Zhou Liangchen had held was now given to Peng Shou'an, while Zhou Liangchen received the title of "Lianzhou County Director" instead—a promotion of half a rank from "county" to "prefecture," and he seemed quite pleased.

Traveling through the night, Peng Shou'an reached Yangshan to formally assume his post. Wang Chuyi, meanwhile, was itching to launch a "bandit suppression" campaign. Unfamiliar with local conditions, however, he had limited himself to arranging National Army patrols along the roads. In recent days, the National Army had dispatched mixed patrol teams—locally conscripted laborers, Yao tribesmen, and National Army soldiers—along Yangshan's old courier routes and "urgent dispatch station" paths, patrolling the entire county. First, this proclaimed the new regime's presence, bolstered civilian morale, and reassured the populace. It also gave wavering local gentry and strongmen the opportunity to align with the organization—if they caused trouble, their influence could be enormous. Fortunately, they were basically "law-abiding citizens" whose greatest concern was their own safety. As long as they were not given the chance to be incited, they were unlikely to take the path of "rebellion." Second, the patrols had provided a preliminary understanding of local village conditions.

Through these patrols, a rudimentary baojia mutual-surveillance system had been established, remnant bandits cleared out, and a batch of rural "villains" rounded up. The county's security situation had largely stabilized. Though the naturalized cadres agreed this stability might be temporary, it was markedly calmer than before Yangshan's recovery.

Next came the task of eliminating "destabilizing elements" within the county.

The greatest destabilizing element in Yangshan—the Yao—had now gone quiet. Whether the Yao of Yonghua or those elsewhere in the county, all had heard of the Eight Pai Yao's crushing defeat. Having been "conscripted" by the National Army—essentially taken as hostages—none had any desire to fight. Instead, it was the local bandit-strongmen who were beginning to stir.

Yangshan, like all counties where Yao and Han lived side by side, had an extremely weak government presence. Setting aside the Yao settlements, which were "autonomous" unto themselves, even the more remote Han villages lay beyond the county's reach. Years of Yao-Han conflict had taught the populace that "the government is unreliable." The county yamen had neither prestige nor military force and was often scorned by local strongmen.

When the Council of Elders first arrived, they were treated no better than Ming had been. The Australians' battlefield exploits were mere "legends" to these petty local tyrants. Apart from the Yao who had actually suffered at Australian hands, the various local "heroes" dismissed them with an air of "so what?"

The mixed patrols had "achieved great results" in general terms, but when it came to specific county administration, obstacles arose.

Wang Chuyi's first priority upon entering the city—apart from security—was to collect "Reasonable Burdens." The Council of Elders had given him a staff, a National Army squadron, and little else in material support. Whether to maintain the National Army, provide famine relief, or repair the ruined county seat, he desperately needed grain and money.

Apart from some battlefield spoils, most of this would have to come from the local population. "Reasonable Burden" was a provisional tax, crude but easy to collect, offering short-term relief for budget shortfalls. It was an obligatory levy for any "new territory" administrator. Resistance was usually minimal—one simply summoned the local gentry and strongmen, "explained" the situation, and the matter was generally settled.

But in Yangshan, the "Reasonable Burden" collection model had failed. Wang Chuyi's emissaries went out to "explain" and apportion the levy, but apart from a few villages near the county seat or along major roads that grudgingly agreed, more than half the villages in the county found excuses to demur. The reasons were endless: the recent Yao uprising had inflicted too much damage; there was simply no grain or money to pay. Ironically, the Yonghua Yao and other Yao groups agreed to pay on time—but they strongly demanded that Wang Chuyi's county government "do something about the salt merchants."

As a new magistrate, Wang Chuyi could not take a single step without grain and money. He was desperate to solve this problem.

When Peng Shou'an, that local "earth god," returned, Wang Chuyi immediately consulted him.

Hearing Wang's account of the situation, Peng Shou'an gave a bitter smile. Three years earlier, when he first arrived in Yangshan, he had faced the same predicament. Though there had been no Eight Pai Yao uprising then, his situation had been identical to that of this shaven-headed County Magistrate Wang.

His solution was the same as Chinese bureaucrats' traditional method for millennia: "work around it." Fortunately, the strongmen only wanted to do as they pleased in their own "acre and a half"; they dared not openly revolt. The two sides could always maintain a tacit understanding.

Now, fresh out of a major upheaval, with the Australians as newcomers, these strongmen were bound to "test the new arrivals."

After much deliberation, Peng Shou'an said: "I have two strategies—one civil, one military. Which would Your Honor prefer to hear?"

Wang Chuyi silently cursed the pedant for putting on airs, but he was groping in the dark and could not do without this former magistrate. "Tell me both," he said. "We'll use whichever works."

Peng Shou'an smiled: "Neither is intrinsically better or worse; each has its pros and cons. I leave it to the County Magistrate to weigh them..."

"Fine, fine—get on with it." Wang Chuyi pressed impatiently.

"The first is the civil strategy. The local strongmen refuse to pay because the levy is too large. Frankly, demanding grain and money so soon after such chaos is asking a great deal. Your Honor might invite a few local gentry to act as mediators and negotiate privately with each village to settle on a sum both sides can accept—fair to all parties."

This was, in fact, the most traditional and prudent approach. Local strongmen were not plotting rebellion; no matter how lightly they regarded the magistrate, they dared not disrespect the court behind him. If terms could be agreed, all would go smoothly.

The advantages were clear: though less grain would be collected, it was a peaceful negotiation without swords drawn, preserving social stability—no small matter in a place as complicated as Yangshan. Forced collection meant resorting to arms, a difficult proposition for a wholly outsider magistrate. Setting aside battlefield risks, even a whisper of "popular unrest" would doom one's career—possibly one's life.

Naturally, Wang Chuyi could not accept this strategy. As for Peng Shou'an, he had long since read the Australians' governance philosophy and knew full well that Wang Chuyi would never accept the "civil strategy."

That left the "military strategy."

The military strategy was bandit suppression.

"Bandit suppression?" Wang Chuyi was puzzled. They had been discussing Reasonable Burdens—why had old Peng veered to bandits?

Suppressing bandits was, of course, the natural course—after all, his urgency to collect Reasonable Burdens was mainly to expand the county National Army's strength.

"Your Honor may not know that Yangshan's banditry and its strongmen are intimately connected. Once the bandits are suppressed, Your Honor need not worry about collecting grain."

"Good—Old Peng, tell me more." Wang Chuyi realized this former magistrate might be useful after all.

Peng Shou'an elaborated: "Yangshan's banditry has two branches—riverine and land-based. The river bandits are led by Feng Haijiao, entrenched at Qinglian Market. The land bandits are led by Sun Dabiao, based at Dalang Market. Together with Zhang Tianbo of the county yamen's Constables Division, these three are known as the 'Three Tyrants of Yangshan.'

"These Three Tyrants are deeply enmeshed with the local strongmen. Sun Dabiao is himself a wealthy man, running salt shops, cloth shops, grain stores—seven or eight businesses—at Dalang Market. Outwardly a prosperous merchant; inwardly, a bandit chief. As for Feng Haijiao, though he has been a notorious river pirate for years, he too comes from a local landowning family that later fell on hard times, driving him to this trade. And Zhang Tianbo—hardly needs mentioning—is the county's Constable Squad Leader, the 'thieves' head.' Any 'hero' operating in this county pays him tribute. The three are in cahoots, thick as thieves, and have even sworn brotherhood..."

Wang Chuyi thought: You know all this so clearly—why didn't you deal with them before? But as a former naturalized commoner himself, he had seen enough similar situations under Ming rule. A magistrate seeking a peaceful tenure could not afford to offend local strongmen, especially in such a remote, lawless place. He kept his patience and let Peng Shou'an continue.

"...Though Zhang Tianbo is merely a constable squad leader, not even a Clerk of Revenue, the county's grain collection depends on him. When certain villages refuse to pay their taxes, he enlists Sun Dabiao and Feng Haijiao, rallies a few hundred ruffians, and surrounds the village. Villagers generally do not dare resist; they pay up. Thus, despite Zhang Tianbo's crimes, he delivers the annual grain levy on time. Naturally, he skims heavily off the top. The only thing is..."

"Only what?" Huang Chao was growing impatient with Peng Shou'an's meandering.

"Only that the autumn levy is always late—always a month or two behind schedule."

(End of Chapter)