Section Thirty
The peaceful conclusion of the Shandong War delivered a seismic political shock to China. Once the canal transport routes reopened, even the most nostalgic loyalists of the former dynasty had to grudgingly admit that the rise of the Lin Han Empire and the dynastic transition had become irreversible.
Tang Bin, the newly appointed Governor of Shandong for the Great Han, took as his very first official act an order to dismantle all likin tax checkpoints and abolish the arbitrary administrative levies imposed on northern and southern merchants. Because the Lin Han regime consistently championed pro-business policies, the Han Empire’s reputation among merchants vastly outshone that of the late Ming and Qing dynasties. Consequently, even though the war had just ended, public order in many regions remained precarious, and newly appointed local magistrates had yet to arrive, Tang Bin’s decree achieved immediate and remarkable success. Heavily lobbied and pressured by the Shanxi and Huizhou merchant consortiums, the Canal Transport Guild—which had monopolized river transport operations for over a century—eagerly threw itself into the embrace of the Great Han. Notably, to demonstrate the unalloyed devotion of the entire guild to Beijing, the organization mobilized nearly two hundred vessels in a single operation, departing from Xinzhou Prefecture and transporting hundreds of thousands of shi of grain, cotton, and other supplies to Zhili to replenish the metropolitan markets.
The unification of China closely resembled a game of dominoes. The initial phase of ascent was absolutely critical, arduous, and perilous, but once a firm foothold was secured, subsequent developments became far simpler. The Canal Transport Guild’s political gamble won high praise from the Beijing government. The incumbent leader of the guild was bestowed with the peerage title of Baron of Kaiping by the Han court, while the renowned transport enterprise also secured numerous lucrative government contracts. The largest of these was the military supply procurement for the Anhui garrison, effectively granting them both fame and fortune. When news of this massive dividend spread, it immediately triggered a resonant effect across neighboring regions. Numerous counties, prefectures, and commanderies surrounding Han territory began to explicitly declare their willingness to accept the leadership of the Han court. The most significant tract of land acquired in this manner was Xuzhou Prefecture, nestled between Shandong and Anhui. This defection process closely resembled a clandestine rendezvous between underground operatives; Wang Shirong’s Ordnance and Grain Statistics Bureau played an exceptionally crucial role. Indeed, this subversion project was executed with such consummate success that when all seventeen counties of Xuzhou changed their flags and Wang Dahai’s troops officially moved in, Prince Jian, Labu, far away in Nanjing, was only just receiving the news.
At this juncture, Lin Feng found himself caught in a dilemma. Fairly speaking, he personally favored pressing the advantage, launching a campaign to decisively resolve all issues north of the Yellow River. Yet, as the supreme ruler of the Great Han dynasty, he also understood that while the Han Empire cut an imposing figure on the surface, its internal foundations were already stretched to the breaking point. Years of ceaseless warfare had filled the empire's lowest strata with grievances and murmurs of discontent. The cautionary example of the fallen Ming dynasty was less than a century old; if the peasantry were squeezed too ruthlessly, the resulting catastrophe would be inevitable.
Just as the civil and military factions deadlocked in fierce debate, China’s political landscape shifted dramatically once more. Whether stimulated by the Han army’s triumphs or not, no sooner had the conflict in Shandong subsided than Yang Qilong in Henan, following over a year of meticulous preparation, suddenly assembled a force of one hundred and twenty thousand troops. Advancing south from Xinyang and Nanyang respectively, they launched a massive offensive into湖北 (Hubei), routing several columns of bogus Qing-collaborator Green Standard forces in rapid succession. They captured key cities such as Dengzhou, Xinye, Laohekou, and Gucheng, sweeping across southern Henan and northern Hubei in less than two months. The opposing puppet troops and local militias scattered like chaff before the wind. After spending a brief period pacifying the localities, the main army immediately descended the Tang River, converged on Fancheng, and laid siege to Xiangyang.
This news struck the belligerent officers of the General Staff like a bolt from the blue, spinning their heads in disorientation. Their primary argument for aggressively advocating war had been that "the rebel forces under Yang Qilong are undisciplined and devoid of any will to fight; if the imperial army attacks, it will shatter them like bamboo." Yet the actual military reality proved quite different. Yang Qilong’s troops performed admirably during the Hubei campaign, exhibiting vast improvements in both organization and equipment compared to conditions just a few years prior. Most astonishingly, this peasant insurgent army was equipped with a large number of warhorses, boasting a cavalry contingent of at least six thousand men. Clearly, it was utterly impossible for this development to have occurred without the shadow of the Mongols lurking behind the scenes.
This time, this de facto subordinate relationship was personally acknowledged by Yang Qilong. Upon arriving in Beijing, his emissary immediately performed the full kowtow ceremony before Lin Feng, declaring Yang Qilong’s desire to submit to the Great Han court and petitioning the Prince of Han for a formal title. This nominal submission instantly provided ammunition for the civil official faction. Many argued that the Henan question did not necessarily require military solutions; under current circumstances, Yang Qilong’s submission proved that political enticement and surrender were entirely viable. This rhetoric gained immense traction throughout the court and the country. Furthermore, due to a widespread war-weariness, public opinion across various regions unconditionally tilted toward the civil officials' stance. The military faction found themselves isolated and helpless by the end of the struggle, their momentum severely sapped. Aside from a few extremists who continued to shout from the sidelines, the majority chose a temporary retreat.
Under the overwhelming demands of the populace nationwide, the Prince of Han, Lin Feng, was compelled to accept the civil faction’s proposal. Most military operations of the Great Han dynasty were deferred, and Yang Qilong’s emissary successfully completed his diplomatic mission. The Prince of Han formally enfeoffed Yang Qilong—the so-called "Zhu Third Prince of the Great Ming Dynasty"—as the Duke of Shunyi of the Great Han state, concurrently appointing him Military Governor of Shannan with the title "General Pacifier of the South," granting him full authority over the civil and military affairs of Henan and Hubei provinces, with the power to appoint and dismiss his own subordinate officials.
This phenomenon, however, did not apply to the Han Empire. Historical precedent suggested that if an aged, decaying empire attempted such sweeping measures, it was virtually certain to perish; yet if an emerging empire undertook them, the task became considerably easier. A dynastic transition was inherently a process of massive social reshuffling. Accompanied by war and turmoil, the original gentry and wealthy households had largely perished. When the time came to audit landholdings amidst this vacuum, the resistance encountered was comparatively minimal.
The process by which the Lin Han Empire established its tripod-like dominance differed in no way from that of any previous founding dynasty. At present, the empire’s territories stretched from east to west, encompassing Nurgan, Ningjin, Zhili, Chahar, Shanxi, Shaanxi, Gansu, and other provinces. Due to years of protracted warfare, the vast rural expanses in most of these provinces lay in ruins; more than sixty percent of the landlords had either been killed or fled, rendering the household registers maintained by local yamuns completely nominal. Taking Liaoning (Fengtian) and Zhili as examples: at the very dawn of the Han army’s rise, Lin Feng had ruthlessly struck down several major gentry families under the pretext of their clandestine communications with Tuhai. Moreover, following the collapse of the bogus Qing government, lands previously enclosed by the Eight Banners were distributed to refugees. In the Liaoning region, the land revolution was carried out even more thoroughly: the original "Four Great Families of Liaoning" had been thoroughly liquidated by Kangxi, and subsequent hard-fought campaigns compelled the conqueror Lin Feng—seeking to appease and demobilize the troops of Ma Ying and the Cao brothers—to long since distribute those lands to the peasantry. Consequently, the landlords, whose influence was already weak to begin with, now possessed even less room to object.
Amidst the ravages of war, human beings exercised the biological instinct of fleeing harm and seeking profit. The majority of the population retreated in succession into the mountainous terrain, establishing fortified stockades for self-preservation and cultivating hillside plots merely to stave off starvation. Concurrently, as the military situation shifted, they migrated in waves toward relatively secure regions. Throughout this process, mortality was naturally high, though the victims were predominantly women, children, and the elderly; for the young and robust, the odds of survival were by no means negligible.
This report possessed a high degree of scientific validity, or at least proved defensible in logic. To be frank, Lin Feng had initially harbored deep skepticism regarding these population figures, as government statistical agencies historically enjoyed a rather abysmal reputation for reliability. Yet under the present circumstances, it behooved him not to nitpick. As the saying went, those who conducted no investigations forfeited the right to speak; having arrived as a latercomer, he possessed little qualification to carp and cavil about such matters. Moreover, from an administrative standpoint, the government merely needed to ascertain population numbers; secondary theoretical debates were properly the domain of economists and sociologists.
Lin Feng’s grasp of seventeenth-century domestic governance was, broadly speaking, superficial at best. This self-assessment stemmed from numerous past instances of "shoot-from-the-hip" decision-making. Most of the creative initiatives springing from his twenty-first-century brain had proven erroneous during practical execution, inflicting considerable losses in the process. Consequently, he now rarely voiced opinions on specific operational details within economic activities. For a sovereign, achieving this detachment was not particularly difficult, and his current administrative routine remained relatively streamlined.
According to traditional Chinese jurisprudence, a monarch’s authority was absolute. From this perspective, Lin Feng possessed the prerogative to intervene in any matter within the entire Great Han Empire, ranging from domestic disputes between couples to wars between nations. Yet for a sovereign, attempting to oversee every minute detail was technically impossible; thus, he was forced to engage in selective labor. Although institutional protocols required various departments of the imperial court to submit massive stacks of memorial documents to Lin Feng daily—the sheer volume being staggering—the vast majority of these documents served merely as formal requests for "imperial approval," meaning the matters had already been executed and merely awaited notification. Facing such memorials, Lin Feng generally needed only to register an attitude; his standard annotations read "Noted," while a cheerful mood prompted "We are exceedingly gratified," and a foul mood yielded "Handle it as you see fit according to your own discretion." Outwardly, his every action appeared casual and nonchalant, yet inwardly, he adhered strictly to traditional precedents, moving step-by-step according to established rules. Emperors through the ages had never managed to break free from this circle.
Ever since the empire shifted its national focus entirely toward economic development, Lin Feng’s life had grown significantly more comfortable. Following years of grueling struggle, the military threats surrounding the empire had been largely neutralized. In every direction—east, west, north, and south—hundreds of thousands of Han troops maintained an offensive posture, harassing even the nomadic tribes along the borders with relentless cavalry raids. The elite iron cavalry of the Three Frontiers, stretching from east to west under commanders like Ma Ying, Zhao Guangyuan, and Wang Jinbao, had degenerated to an unimaginable degree. To plunder and enrich themselves, they frequently raided villages, pillaged homes, subjected the populations of neighboring lands to brutal abuses, and committed heinous crimes across the steppes that reached a pitch of universal condemnation by both gods and men. Although the Khorchin Prince Buriyagma repeatedly asserted that such incidents were entirely "accidental occurrences" and that he did not mind them in the least, this did little to deter the censors within the imperial court from drafting indignant memorials of impeachment. Regrettably, however, the Prince of Han himself remained largely unconcerned by such matters.
Enjoying comparative leisure, Lin Feng spent considerably more time with his infant son over these past few months. The boy was exceptionally handsome—plump, fair-complexioned, and entirely free of stranger-anxiety. Moreover, he was deeply attached to Lin Feng, giggling delightfully no matter who held him, which made him immensely popular. His formal name was Lin Cong—the character *cong* purportedly signifying fine jade, while also symbolizing brightness and purity. The entire empire attached paramount importance to this little creature, for barring unforeseen circumstances, the toddler would one day become the master of China. Therefore, despite financial constraints that remained somewhat tight, Li Guangdi nonetheless generously allocated a massive sum of funds to extensively renovate a grand mansion for the lad. Furthermore, to vie for the coveted spots as Lin Cong’s "study companions" or bodyguards, the eligible power-brokers of the Great Han Empire engaged in fierce competition, encompassing virtually every department of the government with scenes nothing short of bewildering. For example, General Ma Ying, the Subduer of Barbarians stationed far away in Nurgan, had a son who was merely eight months old, yet he had already penned countless letters to Lin Feng, stating that the climate in Nurgan was unpropitious, and therefore, out of consideration for the empire’s future, he wished to dispatch his son to Beijing for proper care. Of course, should the court require it, his son was equally prepared to offer "the services of a dog or a horse" in devotion to his lord.
Like father, like son—genetically speaking, General Ma’s scion could hardly be a mediocrity. Unfortunately, given the current state of affairs, the imperial court had yet to devise a post suitable for the young Master Ma, and Lin Feng found it entirely beyond his imagination how an eight-month-old infant might perform "the services of a dog or a horse."
The guards escorting young Master Ma to the capital maintained a low profile, yet their military ranks were somewhat startling. The commanding officer was named Murong Wu, whose official substantive post was Commander of the Second Brigade, Sixth Cavalry Division of the Great Han, holding the rank of colonel and corresponding to the fourth senior civil rank. To outsiders, General Ma of Nurgan cut an excessively imposing figure, employing such a high-ranking officer merely as a bodyguard and reducing imperial officials to the status of mere footmen. Such gossipy commentary inflicted a degree of negative impact on the general’s reputation, yet it caused Lin Feng no distress whatsoever, for Colonel Murong Wu secretly held another concurrent position: Commandant of Qinhuangdao and Commander of the Great Han Western Expeditionary Army Group.
***
*The Grand Usurper* — Chapter 6: State Affairs, Family Affairs, All Affairs Under Heaven — End
Please proceed to Chapter 7: *The Burning Crusade*
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