Shao Shuyi spent the next several days in a whirlwind of activity.
By day, he shadowed Wu Youcai to learn the ropes of the business; by night, he helped tally the incoming shipments of greenware. Fortunately, Wang Sheng and his cohort appeared to have refrained from any underhanded schemes for the time being. The latest shipment was stocked normally, sorted by category, and arranged neatly, awaiting the arrival of the maritime merchants who would buy it in bulk. According to the latest ledger entry, the total greenware inventory stood at 17,020 pieces.
Of course, that was merely the book count. Tens of thousands of pieces previously stockpiled in the warehouse remained unverified. Shao Shuyi had raised the issue once, but Wang Sheng had rebuffed him, citing a lack of manpower.
Shao Shuyi did not press the matter.
At the start of the fifth month, Manager Wang Sheng dispatched Wu Youcai to Chuzhou, ostensibly to transport a second batch of greenware. With the Warehouse Officer absent and many hired laborers transferred elsewhere, the inventory audit was effectively shelved. Shao Shuyi decided he might as well enjoy the respite.
Days drifted by. He ate three square meals a day—quite decent ones at that—and the conflict he had braced for never materialized. He found himself settling into this relatively comfortable existence, almost reluctant to see it end.
Fortunately, he retained his reason.
To stand at the summit of history and gaze down upon the earth, piercing through the fog of time—this was the transmigrator’s distinct advantage. He knew in his bones that the tranquility before him was illusory. When the great tides of the era swept through, no one could remain a bystander.
On the evening of the ninth day of the fifth month, Wang Huadu, who had been missing for weeks, finally resurfaced.
Shao Shuyi filched a few flatbreads from the kitchen and brought them back to his quarters, handing them to Wang Huadu and the young stranger who had accompanied him."Where have you been this past half-month?" Shao Shuyi asked, genuinely curious.
Wang Huadu, wolfing down a flatbread, laughed heartily. "At first, I stayed at your place. Once the grain ran out, I went and holed up with a mistress of mine for a week."
Shao Shuyi felt a grudging admiration—the man had a talent for survival. Looking closely, he had to admit that despite Wang Huadu’s poverty, he was not bad-looking, which explained his success.
"They are a widow and orphan already living a hard life. You stayed for ten days and ate up the last of their family savings," the young man beside him said, eyeing Wang Huadu with evident distaste.
Wang Huadu turned a deaf ear to the criticism and simply introduced his companion. "Little Hu, I met this fellow back when I was a relay household member. This is Cheng Ji, an infantry archer of the Crossroads Myriad-Household Commandery. He’s older than us—twenty this year."
"Crossroads Myriad-Household Commandery?" It was the second time Shao Shuyi had heard the name.
Wang Huadu seemed poised to explain, but after opening his mouth to say, "These are Suzhou soldiers," he faltered. He clearly didn't understand the details himself and offered only an awkward smile before looking to Cheng Ji.
Cheng Ji sized Shao Shuyi up. After a moment, he shook his head. "Actually, we are Taicang soldiers..."
As it turned out, Cheng Ji’s ancestors were Han Chinese from Liaodong.
After the suppression of Li Tan’s rebellion in 1262, the Expeditionary Myriad Commander Zhongxi, of the Khitan Donglüjiu clan, was ordered to lead his headquarters troops to garrison Ju Prefecture, establishing Crossroads City as a military town. From then on, "Crossroads" became the unit's designation.
Ten years later, the Crossroads Force participated in the campaign to destroy the Southern Song. In the aftermath, the Mongol troops, Reconnaissance Cavalry, Han armies, and Newly Adhered Armies garrisoned within Southern Song territory were reorganized into thirty-seven divisions, each assigned a specific defense sector. The Crossroads designation was retained, with Pingjiang Route as its defense sector. Its full title was the "Crossroads Central Myriad-Household Commandery Garrisoning Pingjiang."
A Central Myriad-Household Commandery typically fielded five thousand troops. Including the families that accompanied the army or relocated there, the population numbered in the tens of thousands. They were distributed across one subordinate Pacification Office and ten Wing Thousand-Household Garrisons, each named for its original garrison location or troop source: Zilai, Dongping, Daming, Guangping, Zhending, Dadu, Hejian New Army, Hejian Old Army, Jinan New Army, and Jinan Old Army.
The administrative office of the Dadu Thousand-Household Garrison was in Suzhou, but its military households were located in Taicang. Cheng Ji was a soldier of this unit. Thus, he was not the "Suzhou soldier" Wang Huadu had claimed.
"So you are a Taicang military household," Shao Shuyi nodded. "How many men are in the Dadu Wing?"
"Five hundred on the register, but in reality, only about three hundred. Most are auxiliary military households—weak and unfit for battle," Cheng Ji sighed.
"Why?" Shao Shuyi asked.
"From the Darughachi(a Mongol imperial overseer) and Myriad Commander down, the officers are all hereditary. After a sixty-year cycle, how can they still fight?" Cheng Ji countered.
It was as Shao Shuyi had suspected.
The Yuan military system harbored a fatal flaw: the officers of the Myriad-Household Commanderies and Guards—generally located in the north—and the local Thousand-Household Garrisons were hereditary positions. Over time, abuses had accumulated. The soldiers were little better than enslaved beggars, unable to eat their fill or dress warmly. Many were crushed by high-interest debts, and even selling their children was often insufficient to repay them. Fugitives increased daily, morale plummeted, and combat effectiveness evaporated.
Cheng Ji was obviously full of pent-up anger. "Seven years ago, unrest broke out in Zhangzhou. The various military commanderies of Jianghuai drew troops to go south for a joint suppression campaign. The Crossroads Force went without provisions for over forty days; there is no telling how many fled. Even the commander committed suicide. If not for a pardon, I fear not a single person would have returned."
Shao Shuyi was speechless. What a mess.
However, the grand strategy was none of his concern. He simply asked, "Do you know martial arts?"
Cheng Ji looked him over carefully. "Among the several hundred men of the Dadu Garrison, there aren't many left who can go into battle and kill. I do indeed know a few moves, but—why do you want to learn?"
"The world is not peaceful; I seek only self-protection," Shao Shuyi replied frankly.
The reason was barely adequate, but Cheng Ji paused only a moment before nodding. "I'll teach you once every ten-day week. The price is five sheng of rice. There are people in the garrison stealing and selling military weapons; if you want some, I can find them for you. They're cheap."
Before Shao Shuyi could reply, Wang Huadu jumped up and shouted, "Cheng the Second, the Dadu Garrison is a wreck, and you're still staying there?"
Cheng Ji fell silent. After a long while, he finally said, "This year, Myriad Commander Hao is separately garrisoning Jiading and inspecting the camps. Seeing the soldiers were exhausted and impoverished, he went to the Branch Secretariat to request grain..."
"What use is that? Did he get it?" Wang Huadu mocked. "Whether it's a military household or a relay household, life gets harder year after year. It never improves. I think you've lost your mind, lingering in that broken camp."
Cheng Ji only sighed and said no more.
Shao Shuyi reached out to stop Wang Huadu from mocking him further and turned to ask Cheng Ji about the command structure.
"Myriad Commander Hao" was Hao Tianlin, holding the rank of Guangwei General (Primary Fourth Rank). He had inherited the position of Crossroads Myriad Commander in the second year of Tianli (1329) following his father’s death. His mother, née Shi, was the granddaughter of the Prince of Zhenyang, Shi Tianze.
According to regulations, the various Myriad Commanders rotated garrisons within the defense sector for one-year terms. This year, Hao Tianlin was commanding from the Jinan Old Army Thousand-Household Garrison in Jiading Prefecture.
The unit closest to the Crossroads Army was the "Lower Myriad-Household Commandery of the Zhenjiang Navy Garrisoning Changqiao." Originally stationed in the Zhenjiang Route, it had moved to Changqiao in the Pingjiang Route. After being led successively by Ning Yu and his son Ning Juren, it had gradually declined. Now, with few men or ships remaining, it existed in name only.
As for the provincial capital, Hangzhou, there were four Myriad-Household Commanderies: Zhending (Upper), Yidu (Upper), Yingzhou (Lower), and Shangdu New Army (Lower). On paper, they boasted twenty thousand troops—seven thousand in an Upper Myriad-Household, five thousand in a Middle, and three thousand in a Lower.
Having grasped these particulars, Shao Shuyi formed a preliminary picture of the Yuan army in the Jiangzhe Branch Secretariat.
In short, it was a shambles.
Morale was low, numbers were few, and equipment was poor. Most soldiers were drowning in debt. How in the hell could they fight a war?
Thinking back to how he had been driven like livestock by such soldiers that day, Shao Shuyi felt a twinge of shame. But then again, they had weapons, and out of a few hundred men, there were bound to be some capable fighters. Killing a man like him, who lacked the strength to truss a chicken, would be trivial—Cheng Ji must have been in the ranks that day.
"I did not expect the world to have come to this." Shao Shuyi gathered his thoughts and sighed. He looked at Cheng Ji. "One day of instruction per ten-day week, for five sheng of rice. Agreed."
"Good." Cheng Ji was decisive. "I brought weapons out of the camp and stored them at your house. Why don't we—"
"Tomorrow is my day off, and I have nothing to do anyway. Let's head to my place," Shao Shuyi said. "You can stay the night there."
"As you wish." Cheng Ji didn't care.
Wang Huadu opened his mouth as if to speak, but Shao Shuyi patted his shoulder. "You fake Nestorian, watch and learn tomorrow; don't miss this opportunity."
He handed the ten strings of Zhongtong notes he had received at the beginning of the month to Wang Huadu. "Don't walk back; take a boat. Buy some wine and food on the way—buy as much as you can."
"You trust me that much?" Wang Huadu laughed.
"Suspicion back and forth—is that how a man of character behaves?" Shao Shuyi replied with feigned indifference.
The statement was half true. His nature was indeed to treat people with sincerity, but practically speaking, the ten strings meant nothing to him since his room and board were covered by the shop. Losing the money wouldn't impact his life, but it would reveal Wang Huadu's true colors. It was a low price for clarity.
Wang Huadu was visibly moved. He silently pocketed the notes and finished the flatbreads with Cheng Ji.
After eating, both men bid farewell. Shao Shuyi let them take the sandy salt and pickled vegetables as well, then went to Manager Wang Sheng's quarters to request leave.
"One day off every ten days; you could have gone home anyway. It's fine," Wang Sheng agreed, then paused. "The two men who were just here..."
"They are my neighbors," Shao Shuyi said.
Wang Sheng stared at him for a moment. "The world is not good nowadays. You absolutely must not associate with bandits. One careless slip and your life could be in danger."
"I know," Shao Shuyi replied hurriedly.
Wang Sheng nodded and waved a hand to dismiss him.
Shao Shuyi bowed and left, breathing a secret sigh of relief.
Early on the morning of the tenth day of the fifth month, Shao Shuyi eagerly rushed to the kitchen. After devouring three large bowls of noodles, he shouldered two dou of coarse round-grained rice and left in high spirits.
He found a cargo ship heading to Zhangjing at the wharf. After casually tossing the boatman a few handfuls of rice, he squeezed on board.
The journey was uneventful, and soon the landmark of Zhangjing—the Sea Transport Granary—rose in the distance.