Chapter Nineteen

According to the conventions of popular historical novels, once a city is conquered, everything seems to become simple, as if merely posting a decree to pacify the people would suffice. Lin Feng, though instinctively aware that things could not be so easy, had not anticipated just how troublesome the situation would become.

The first task, naturally, was to reassure the surrendered Qing soldiers and officers. After tallying the numbers, it appeared that the Qing defenders of Tianjin originally numbered around eighteen thousand, all infantry. Of these, more than two thousand were elite Banner troops loyal to the imperial court, the rest being Han Green Standard soldiers. The days of fierce combat had left the Tianjin garrison battered, reducing their numbers to about eleven thousand, with over two thousand wounded. To foster closeness with the men, Lin Feng personally led his generals on an inspection of the wounded, only to witness a shocking scene.

Medicine of this era, particularly in surgery, was woefully lacking. There was neither the concept of operations nor blood transfusions. Most wounded men were simply patched up with herbal poultices, their recovery left to fate. The sight was bleak; the unfortunate souls lay groaning on straw, and though Lin Feng was no doctor, he could discern that most here had little hope—merely waiting for death.

The surrendered generals exchanged uneasy glances. Zhou Peigong sidled up quietly and murmured, “It was only after they executed Zheya Ta and the Banner soldiers in the city that they surrendered.”

“Oh, so that's how it is!” Lin Feng waved his hand dismissively. “Since you all rebelled on the battlefield, I shall not treat you poorly. Here’s what I’ll do: today, every officer of the rank of guerrilla and above who turned, shall be rewarded with a house and a thousand taels of silver. All other officers and soldiers will receive rewards as well—Peigong, see to it!”

Zhou Peigong bowed in reply. Lin Feng smiled, “General Zhao, I intend to transfer you to a post in the central army. Are you willing?”

Zhao Liangdong was taken aback, then gratitude blossomed on his face. He bowed deeply. “Thank you, Commander, for your favor! But I must not accept reward without merit. I have a request!”

Lin Feng was surprised by his refusal. “Speak, General!”

Zhao Liangdong stood tall. “If the Commander trusts me, give me five thousand men. Within three days, if I do not take Baoding, I shall return with my head!”

A token of loyalty? Lin Feng mused silently, glancing at Zhou Peigong, who shook his head—a sign of mistrust toward this newly surrendered Qing officer. Lin Feng surveyed the doubtful faces of the other surrendered generals, feeling a pang of tension. He pondered for a while, neither agreeing nor refusing.

Lin Feng smiled, “When will you depart?”

“I will select my troops immediately and march for Baoding at once!”

Lin Feng applauded. “Excellent, decisive! I admire you!” Turning to the other generals, he smiled, “Old Zhao has a chance for great merit. Any others interested in making a campaign?”

The surrendered officers exchanged looks and stepped forward as one. “Commander, your magnanimity inspires us to pledge our loyalty unto death!”

The five thousand surrendered troops seemed to have decent morale. Lin Feng nodded from the city wall, recognizing Zhao Liangdong’s talent in command. Zhou Peigong, however, wore a worried expression. “Commander, these soldiers have only just switched sides. Though they say ‘one should trust those one employs’—shouldn’t we send some men to watch them?”

Lin Feng cast him a glance. Zhou Peigong was wise, but perhaps too cautious. “No need. They personally killed Zheya Ta and two thousand Tartars, and their families remain in Tianjin. If they dare to betray us now, they truly have audacity!” He laughed. “Peigong, in this business, sometimes you have to take a gamble!”

Tianjin truly deserved its reputation as a vital stronghold of the Central Plains. Only after inspecting the warehouses did Lin Feng realize how abundant the city’s resources were. The Tianjin prefecture’s treasury held an astonishing one million two hundred thousand taels of silver. Because of the recent war, Zheya Ta had relocated many residents and seized their property, resulting in vast stores of grain, cloth, and medicinal herbs. Even more surprising, the overcrowded city housed over eighty-two thousand mules and donkeys—a number that left Lin Feng baffled as to what purpose Zheya Ta had for so many beasts.

Just as Lin Feng was congratulating himself on this windfall, a commotion erupted outside the yamen, as if countless people were crying and shouting. Lin Feng frowned and beckoned Li Ergou, who stood by his side. “Go find out what’s happening!”

Before long, Li Ergou hurried back and bowed. “Commander, a crowd of common folk has surrounded the yamen. The guards at the gate can’t disperse them, no matter what!”

Lin Feng’s expression changed instantly. He slammed his ledger down and strode toward the entrance. Li Ergou, alarmed, motioned for the guards to follow.

The situation was worse than anticipated. Lin Feng’s personal soldiers stood as if facing a formidable enemy, tightly arrayed in three rows, swords in hand, shouting and cursing. The square before the yamen was packed with wailing townsfolk, heads bobbing in a dense mass that filled the entire street—impossible to tell how many. A dozen white-haired elders knelt rigidly, raising a petition, while several robust men lay sprawled nearby, blood streaming from their foreheads, groaning and writhing.

“Did they resort to violence?” Lin Feng frowned and addressed the Han officer at the gate, “What’s your name?”

The officer, about twenty, bowed. “Reporting, I am Duan Siwen, captain of the personal guard.”

His Fujian accent marked him as a native. Lin Feng, not wanting to scold an old subordinate, pointed at the elders. “What do they want?”

“Commander, it seems they wish to lodge a complaint,” Duan Siwen hurried to explain. “I told them the Commander was busy with official business and asked them to wait, but these old rascals dared to incite a crowd to besiege the commander’s residence. No matter what we said, they refused to listen, and the men lost patience…”

“So you struck them?” Lin Feng said calmly. He knew his soldiers were not vicious by nature, but certainly not adherents to strict discipline.

“Commander, the men didn’t dare to kill anyone—just struck them with the flat of their blades…” Duan Siwen was startled and quickly knelt, stammering.

Li Ergou trotted over, took the petition, and placed it on the desk. Lin Feng didn’t even look at it but slapped the table. “Nonsense! I’m busy right now.” He pointed at the petitioning elder. “You—stop acting so grand. If you have something to say, say it quickly!”

The elder shivered at Lin Feng’s harsh tone, stammering, “I am Liu Zhengming, a former Qing scholar, living at Two Mule Street, West Gate, Tianjin…”

Lin Feng burst out laughing. It was a strange feeling to see a venerable old man refer to himself as a ‘student.’ He suppressed his mirth and interrupted, “So, a disciple of the sages with honors from the previous dynasty—I must apologize for my discourtesy.” He turned to Li Ergou and whispered, “Is it customary for those with academic honors not to kneel?”

Li Ergou was at a loss; as a former household guard for Li Qingliu, he truly did not know the protocol.

“Never mind, the Qing’s rules no longer apply.” Lin Feng waved his hand. “Bring chairs—let this old gentleman sit!” He caught sight of the other elders gazing at him hopefully, and, feeling sympathy, added, “Have you all read the classics as well? No need to find excuses, as the sage said… ‘Respect the old as one’s own,’ I must give you all face. Everyone, please be seated.”

Once the elders settled nervously, Lin Feng grinned, “Master Liu, you’ve brought such a crowd—are you here to cause trouble for me?”

Liu Zhengming was startled, springing up to kneel and trembling, “I wouldn’t dare… I wouldn’t dare!!” He swallowed hard, steadied himself, and knocked his head on the ground several times before speaking cautiously. “I was entrusted by my neighbors to ask the Commander to act for the people!”

“Don’t be nervous, I was just asking. Please, sit and speak.” Lin Feng smiled and gestured to the chair.

Liu Zhengming wiped his cold sweat but remained kneeling, his head bowed. “Today, the Han army has triumphed, and our mighty force now occupies Tianjin—a blessing for the people. I am but an insignificant figure with some local influence, and I rallied the neighbors to slaughter pigs and sheep to reward the army…” He stole a glance at Lin Feng, who listened with evident pleasure, and, emboldened, continued, “…but after the troops entered the city, they looted extensively. On my street alone, several households lost their doors, and women were harmed… I beg the Commander to grant justice to us common folk!”

Lin Feng’s smile vanished as he sprang to his feet. This was no trivial matter. From now on, the region would be his base, and Tianjin, as Beijing’s gateway and the canal’s choke point, and the only port, was his lifeline. If the troops’ indiscipline incited popular outrage, it could truly undermine his foundation.

He composed himself. “Master Liu, please rise. This is indeed our fault. Be at ease, and watch as I punish those scoundrels!” Raising his voice to the crowd, he declared, “People of Tianjin, listen!”

The townsfolk looked at each other in bewilderment.

Lin Feng repeated, “Today, you will see me enforce military discipline. If I do well, the men of Tianjin shall cheer for me. If I fail, you may jeer—people of Tianjin, do you hear?”

He called out three times, and after a moment’s silence, the square erupted in uproar. At last, the crowd shouted in unison, “People of Tianjin hear you!!”

Lin Feng laughed and leapt from the desk, turning to his guards with a loud command, “Sound the horn—assemble the officers!”