Chapter 2512: Burning the Tower (25)
Zhao Manxiong exhaled softly. "Not entirely. This operation achieved several objectives: it created fractures in the enemy's alliance, gave our embedded agents opportunities to turn wavering targets, yielded intelligence on the leadership and core structure of hostile organizations, and provided our first clear look at the true nature of Liang Cunhou's martial background. Moreover, we suffered no casualties. Results mean it wasn't a failure. Our initial goal was simply to gather direct intelligence on the enemy. We must allow our people room to make mistakes—maturity is a process."
Wu Mu shook his head with a quiet sigh. "Too backward. In this backward era, we ourselves have begun to degenerate."
Zhao Manxiong smiled. "A central tenet of evolutionary theory is 'survival of the fittest.' Losing certain abilities isn't necessarily degeneration—it's adaptation to the environment."
Wu Mu let the point drop. "Yang Cao's report has already gone up the chain. She seems to have objections to Xu Tong's actions. I agree—his conduct appeared too emotional, not decisive enough at the critical moment."
"I've read the report," Zhao Manxiong said. "Her judgment certainly has its merits. However, as I see it, there was no optimal solution in that situation—no textbook answer. Different people would have made different calls. Since we sent them to execute the mission, we must trust their choices and defend their decisions within the rules."
"They are very different from each other," Wu Mu observed.
"Everyone is unique. I'm glad our system has room for such people." Zhao Manxiong paused. "Our organization is in a transitional period. These are extraordinary times, and we've had to employ unconventional means—that's the nature of special circumstances. But this exceptionalism cannot be permanent, nor can it be used without restraint. Do you remember what I told you about the Stasi?"
"I remember."
"The Stasi truly achieved something close to omnipotence in the end—yet it failed to protect the very regime it existed to serve. That's a lesson worth remembering: we must never put the cart before the horse." Zhao Manxiong lit a cigar. "Our territory is expanding. Within twenty years, the Senate will build a real nation. 'Governing a large country is like cooking a small fish'—ruthlessness at any cost doesn't suit us. Xu Tong's performance might seem insufficiently decisive by Yang Cao's standards, but I personally appreciate him."
"Building foundations now to prevent future trouble?"
Zhao Manxiong nodded. "Liu Fuqing represents the old era—useful but limited, unable to adapt to the new order. Yang Cao is a sharp sword we forged ourselves: she accepts our governing philosophy completely, is utterly loyal, and devastatingly effective. Xu Tong is the scabbard—meant to contain that edge and prevent the blade from going astray. When King Arthur drew the Sword from the Stone, Merlin warned him that the scabbard's value was ten times that of the blade itself. But Arthur eventually lost his scabbard. Those who cannot sheathe their sharpness seldom meet good ends."
He slowly spread his five fingers. "So, only children are forced to choose." Then his hand closed into a tight fist.
These were unusually candid words. Wu Mu didn't pursue them, instead shifting topics. "Synthesizing intelligence from all sources, the enemy appears to have completed their initial consolidation of forces. A comprehensive counterattack is likely imminent. What remains unclear is whether this will be confined to the Liangguang region or supported by external powers."
"If I were the Great Ming Emperor or the Governor-General, I would prefer internal forces to strike first, blooming chaos at the center before the main army launched its offensive. That's the optimal strategy. However, intelligence from the Foreign Bureau casts doubt on whether the Ming court actually possesses such capability."
"In terms of shocking the realm, surely our capture of two provinces as 'giant bandits' outweighs the threat from the roving bandits and Wild Boar Skin?"
"True enough," Zhao Manxiong conceded. "We've taken Liangguang—two of the eighteen provinces. To the court and public, this is an unprecedented shock. But to the Ming throne itself, the Manchus prowling just outside the Fifth Ring Road pose the more immediate threat."
In a medieval society lacking effective communications, capturing the capital meant immense upheaval and a catastrophic power vacuum. The central court would spare no expense to defend it. Yuan Chonghuan's execution stemmed largely from his failure to "keep the enemy beyond the nation's gates"—allowing the Eight Banners cavalry to appear beneath the capital's walls.
For the Great Ming, where "the Son of Heaven guards the gate of the realm," the fall of distant Liangguang, thousands of li away, and the Manchus lurking mere hundreds of li distant were entirely different propositions: one threat was remote, the other imminent.
The result was that the Ming court, while technically "shocked" by Liangguang's fall, remained in a state of paralysis—discussing endlessly, deciding nothing. Though the court hadn't yet reached its final extremity, the heavy troop concentrations in Liaodong couldn't be redeployed, and what remained of the mobile forces in the Central Plains were already stretched thin dealing with roving bandits.
"Even so," Zhao Manxiong continued, "we cannot afford complacency. The Foreign Intelligence Bureau's comprehensive assessment suggests the Ming court may launch a counteroffensive by year's end—though the scale remains unknown."
"Which means..."
"This also explains why these opposition forces have suddenly grown active again." Zhao Manxiong's voice dropped. "On one hand, they want to seize this opportunity. On the other, time is running out for them. Our strategic adjustments are accelerating. Bandit suppression forces are being redeployed. Grassroots transformation has begun. Armed work teams are forming across the territories. But the Senate's policies remain mired in delay. Land reform hasn't been sorted out, and local gentry still hold enormous sway over public discourse. Our internal divisions are too deep."
He left the rest unsaid, but Wu Mu understood. Fundamentally, the Senate's "New Deal" hadn't delivered sufficient benefits. The common people wouldn't rise up to "rebel" against them—but neither would they "follow the army like shadows, carrying grain in their support."
Creating peaceful times wasn't enough; there had to be tangible benefits as well—whether real or merely promised.
"So they won't resist when we arrive," Wu Mu said, "but if someone incites and coerces them to rebel, that's not difficult either. The common people lack independent political judgment and retain a superstitious reverence for the traditional dynastic order. It's only been a few years since the change of dynasty; the Ming's residual prestige endures."
"But policy adjustment and implementation cannot happen overnight..."
"Time. It all takes time." Zhao Manxiong closed his eyes. "You may go. Don't report to me again until this case is closed—I need to consider other matters now."
"Understood. Are you returning to Lingao?"
"I'll remain here for a while." He paused. "Lingao is already the past..."
Wu Mu pushed open the door and departed. Zhao Manxiong slowly reclined in his leather office chair. Sunlight scattered across the desk before him, carrying a trace of warmth. He found himself wanting to touch it, but when he reached out, the light shifted—almost deliberately—leaving him in shadow. Zhao Manxiong smiled bitterly, leaned back, and closed his eyes. Opposite the sunlight, there was only the shadow of Lingao.
Wu Mu returned to his office. Yang Cao had been waiting and immediately began her briefing on recent developments.
The most pressing matter, aside from Liang Cunhou's case, was the "Cadre Training Program" recently organized by the Civil Affairs Department. Though led by Civil Affairs, the Political Security Bureau was part of the training apparatus—both to screen for suspicious individuals and to provide essential security training for backbone personnel.
Many in this cohort were illiterate. The training work was arduous, needless to say, but everything had to start somewhere.
Their cadre training and placement had so far concentrated on towns; the next phase would push deep into rural areas.
"According to current intelligence," Yang Cao reported, "in regions where clan power is weak, secret societies and religious sects have proliferated, generating numerous civil and criminal disputes."
"Has the legal ban on secret societies been promulgated?"
"Already done. The National Police are distributing relevant proclamations..."
"Once the newspaper publishes it, transfer all materials except those on the 'White List' to Section Nine." Wu Mu said, "Our people gather intelligence only. Actual suppression operations are handled by the police and National Army." He paused. "I'm not well-versed in this area. Bandit gangs and Daoist sects are as numerous as ox hairs. I only started paying close attention to groups like the Heavenly Soldier Daoist Spirit Society after your last report. Do we have a unit specifically handling contact with these people?"
"We have a group dedicated to reconnaissance of secret societies. Recently, though, one of our intelligence officers went dark. His work included cultivating defections from Xue Tu's organization. He's likely dead—which means the defection attempt probably failed. Combined with the leaked bandit situation document from a few weeks ago, Xue Tu is almost certainly planning a major operation now that he's consolidated the underground forces. With peaceful negotiation having failed, armed struggle is inevitable. However, secret societies are not our primary concern—their power is the weakest in Liangguang, far inferior to the clans and gentry landlords."
"The Ming court will likely mount a major counterattack. We must guard against all of them... How is the work on the gentry progressing?"
"Advancing according to plan."
Yang Cao asked, "Will they conserve their strength, waiting to coordinate with riots in our rear?"
"I don't think they can afford to wait. Liang Cunhou's martial background gives him sharp instincts. They're like rats trapped in a bellows, squeezed from all sides. Time is running out for them. They'll certainly accelerate their integration. Plant intelligence personnel inside as soon as possible—use controlled materials if necessary. We need first-hand information: their movements, hiding locations, operational plans, timing. And strengthen coordination with the military. Operations of this scale are beyond what we can handle alone."
(End of Chapter)