xymnovel Chapter 13 Zhang Xiang, the Scholar
Chapter 13 Zhang Xiang, the Scholar
The news of Ma Changsheng passing the imperial examination spread like wildfire throughout Qishui.
An eleven-year-old scholar who passed the imperial examination was a rare find in the 270-year history of the Ming Dynasty.
The county government sent congratulatory gifts—ten taels of silver and two bolts of silk. The county magistrate also personally inscribed a plaque that read "Young Talent".
Local gentry and landlords from surrounding villages and towns came to offer their congratulations, and the ancestral hall was filled with all sorts of gifts: rice, noodles, cured meat, cloth, and even two jars of Shaoxing rice wine.
But Ma Changsheng didn't have time for social engagements.
Winter came early in the twelfth year of Chongzhen's reign. The first snow fell at the end of October, and it was bitterly cold.
More importantly, the news brought back from Wuchang weighed heavily on his mind: the Qing army was wreaking havoc in the capital region, and the court was powerless to reverse the situation; Zhang Xianzhong was stirring up trouble in Gucheng; bandits were rampant in Huguang, and government troops were either fleeing or surrendering.
He knew that time was running out for Majiabao.
On the third day after returning to his hometown, he convened an emergency meeting in the ancestral hall with representatives from the joint defense association of fifteen villages.
More than thirty representatives crowded the room, the charcoal braziers were glowing red, but the atmosphere was cold.
"Fellow villagers," Ma Changsheng said, standing in front of the map, his voice low but clear, "you may have already heard the news I brought back from Wuchang."
The Qing army captured Jinan and took Prince De prisoner; the imperial court dispatched Hong Chengchou and Sun Chuanting north, leaving the defenses of Huguang (Hubei and Hunan) vulnerable; Zhang Xianzhong, in Gucheng, outwardly surrendered but in reality recruited soldiers.
He paused, looking at the anxious faces. "To put it simply, next year—the thirteenth year of the Chongzhen Emperor's reign—the world will inevitably descend into chaos. Our Qishui County, situated in a strategic location, cannot escape it."
The ancestral hall was deathly silent.
Some people's hands were shaking, and some people's faces were pale.
An old clan chief asked in a trembling voice, "Chang Sheng... Master Ma, then... what should we do?"
"Do three things." Ma Changsheng held up three fingers. "First, fortify the defenses and scorched earth; second, mobilize the entire population to fight; third, store grain for famine relief."
He explained in detail:
Scorched earth policy – gather all the people scattered outside the village into a fortified stronghold; hide any grain that cannot be taken away in cellars or burn it, so as not to leave it to the bandits; pollute the wells.
The entire population was mobilized for military service—all men aged fifteen to fifty were incorporated into the local militia, while women were organized to provide logistical support: cooking, making clothes, and caring for the wounded.
Children and the elderly also have tasks: keeping watch, relaying messages, and twisting hemp rope.
Food Reserves for Famine Preparedness: From now on, each household should reserve at least three months' worth of food per person; each village should build a public granary, which will be managed by the joint defense committee; people should be organized to go into the mountains to dig wild vegetables, hunt, and fish, and then dry and store them.
"This is going to be a war..." someone whispered.
"It's not that war is about to break out, it's that war has already begun," Ma Changsheng said calmly. "The difference is whether we are prepared to fight others, or whether others catch us off guard."
Instructor Sun stood up and said in a rough voice, "Chang Sheng... Master Ma is right! I served in the border army for twenty years and witnessed the devastation after the Tartars broke through the pass—not a single chicken or dog was spared! If we don't prepare now, it will be too late to cry later!"
Tie Zhu also stated, "We at Majiabao have been preparing according to this method for two months. We now have three hundred local militia, enough food to last for six months, and each person has a weapon. Those who are willing to work with us, we will help you build a fort and train troops; those who are not willing... don't blame us for not helping you when the time comes."
That's a harsh statement, but it works.
In the end, all fifteen villages agreed and signed a "life-or-death pact" on the spot: to share hardships and blessings, and to jointly punish those who betray the pact.
The meeting is over, but the real problems are just beginning.
First and foremost, there's money and supplies.
Majiabao now has 300 local militia, and their monthly grain consumption is over 200 shi (a unit of dry measure), while their pay is over 100 taels (another unit of dry measure).
Some of this money and supplies came from "protection fees," and some came from the properties within the fortress.
However, expanding the army to 500 men and helping other villages build defenses presents a huge gap.
Ma Changsheng did the math: five hundred people would need six thousand shi of grain and two thousand taels of silver a year.
The fifteen villages were to work together to defend the area, with the costs shared according to each village's capacity. However, the poorest villages couldn't even feed themselves, let alone have any surplus grain.
"How about... charging more protection money?" Tie Zhu asked tentatively.
Ma Changsheng shook his head: "The people are already suffering enough, we can't add to their suffering. What I'm thinking about is... doing business."
"Doing business?"
"That's right." Ma Changsheng spread out a map of Hubei and Hunan. "Our Qishui is not far from the Yangtze River. To the east is Anqing, to the west is Wuchang, and to the south is Jiujiang. These places are still relatively peaceful, and there is business to be done."
He pointed to several places: "We have tea plantations where we can make tea; bamboo forests where we can weave utensils; and iron mines where we can forge farm tools. These things can be sold for money in peaceful places. With the money we earn, we can buy grain, cloth, salt, and iron."
Instructor Sun frowned: "But with the chaos of war, how can we transport it? What if it gets robbed on the way?"
"So we need armed caravans," Ma Changsheng said. "We'll select fifty strong local militiamen to run these caravans. They'll train regularly and set off during the off-season. Each time they go out, they'll have two wagons and twenty guards, equipped with bows, arrows, swords, and guns. Small bandits won't dare mess with us, and as for the big ones... we have connections with them."
This is not bragging.
Majiabao is now well-known in the Qishui area, and both the legitimate and criminal worlds give it some face—of course, this face is earned through fighting.
"Who's leading the team?" Ma Sanbao asked.
"I'll go myself the first time," Ma Changsheng said, "to scout things out and make some connections."
"No way!" Ma Sanbao and Li Shi objected at the same time.
"Father, Mother, I'm a scholar now, which makes many things easier," Ma Changsheng explained. "Besides, I'm just in command, not on the front lines. With Tiezhu and Instructor Sun protecting me, I'm safe."
I reluctantly agreed in the end.
But Li insisted that Ma Changsheng take Ma Xiaoshuan and Wang Hu with him—these two guards were the most capable.
In mid-November, the first armed caravan set off.
Five large carts carried tea, bamboo utensils, iron pots, and "hemostatic powder," a specialty of Majiabao—a wound medicine prepared by Granny Chen based on an ancient formula, known for its effectiveness. Thirty local militiamen escorted them, led by Ma Changsheng, with Tiezhu and Instructor Sun as his deputies.
Destination: Jiujiang Prefecture.
There was a Yangtze River port there, a bustling commercial hub, and it had not yet been affected by the war.
The journey from Qishui to Jiujiang takes 300 li (approximately 150 kilometers) on the official road, and usually takes seven or eight days.
But now there are many checkpoints along the way, and bandits are lurking. It took us a full twelve days to travel.
We encountered trouble on the very first day.
In Qichun County, they were stopped by a group of soldiers who wanted to collect a "transit tax".
The leader of the group was a centurion who demanded an exorbitant price: two taels of silver per cart, for a total of ten taels.
Instructor Sun tried to force his way in, but Ma Changsheng stopped him. He got out of the carriage and revealed his identity as a scholar who had passed the imperial examinations: "I am Ma Changsheng, a scholar from Qishui, and I am on official business in Jiujiang on behalf of the county government. Please grant me this favor, sir."
When the centurion saw the document and the scholar's certificate, his tone softened, but he was still not giving up: "Even a scholar has to pay taxes... Here, five taels, that's the lowest I can offer."
Ma Changsheng took out three taels of silver: "Sir, you've worked hard. Please accept this as payment for the tea. I can't afford anything more."
The centurion weighed the silver in his hand and reluctantly allowed them to pass.
Once they were a distance away, Tie Zhu cursed, "These scoundrels are even more ruthless than bandits!"
Ma Changsheng said calmly, "Anything that can be solved with money isn't a problem. Remember, we're doing business here, not fighting a war."
The journey was indeed turbulent.
On the third night, while encamped, they were attacked by a small group of bandits.
About twenty people sneaked into the camp at night, intending to rob the goods.
However, they underestimated the quality of the militia from Majiabao Township.
Instructor Sun had made arrangements in advance, with both visible and hidden sentries on guard, so the bandits were discovered as soon as they got close.
A volley of arrows felled three or four, and the rest fled in panic.
The local militia chased them for two miles and captured two more alive.
Interrogation revealed that they were local starving people who had resorted to banditry because they could no longer survive.
Ma Changsheng looked at the two emaciated young men, sighed, and gave each of them two bushels of rice: "Go back and farm properly, don't do this anymore."
The two kowtowed in gratitude and left in tears.
Tie Zhu asked, puzzled, "Chang Sheng, they're bandits, why did you let them go and even give them rice?"
"Because it's the world that forces them to become bandits," Ma Changsheng said. "Killing them is easy, but you can't kill all the bandits. Giving them a way out might mean one less enemy in the future."
Instructor Sun pondered for a moment: "Young Master's magnanimity... is remarkable."
After this incident, Ma Changsheng's prestige within the team increased even further.
Everyone felt that this eleven-year-old scholar was not only intelligent but also kind-hearted.
On the eighth day, they entered the territory of Jiujiang Prefecture.
This place is indeed much more prosperous. Although there are still some refugees, the market is still quite lively.
Ma Changsheng first found an inn to stay in, and then went to pay a visit to the local gentry—his status as a scholar who had passed the imperial examinations was the best calling card.
He visited professors at Jiujiang Prefectural School, several retired officials, and owners of several large businesses.
We presented Qishui specialties, discussed poetry and academic papers, and casually inquired about market trends.
Over the course of a few days, they not only sold the goods they brought for a good price, but also made a number of connections.
Most importantly, he learned a crucial piece of information: in order to raise funds for the army, the imperial court was levying additional "training taxes" in the south, but local officials were adding to the burden at every level, causing widespread public resentment. Small-scale uprisings had already broken out in several counties near Jiujiang.
"Chaos has already broken out." An old scholar said to Ma Changsheng, "Brother Ma, although you are young, you have remarkable insight. I advise you: prepare early. This world... is about to change."
Ma Changsheng wholeheartedly agreed.
He purchased large quantities of grain, cloth, salt, and iron in Jiujiang, and also secretly bought several boxes of books—historical classics, philosophical works, agricultural and water conservancy texts, and even a few Western mathematics books. These were the seeds of civilization, especially precious in times of chaos.
The return journey was even smoother—with the "official business" document issued by the Jiujiang Prefectural Government, the checkpoints along the way dared not make things too difficult.
On the third day of the twelfth lunar month, the caravan returned safely to Majiabao.
This trip netted them two hundred taels of silver, which they exchanged for fifty bushels of grain, twenty bolts of cloth, ten dan of salt, and those priceless books.
More importantly, it opened up trade routes and built up a network of contacts.
The twelfth lunar month is the off-season for farming, making it a good time for military training.
Ma Changsheng divided the 500 local militia into five teams of 100 men each, with a captain and a deputy captain in each team.
The training subjects have also been systematized:
Morning: Physical training – running, lifting weights, and climbing ropes.
Morning: Drill training – formation changes, flag recognition, and drum and gong commands.
Afternoon: Weapon training – spears, swords and shields, bows and arrows, muskets.
Evening: Academic lessons – literacy, arithmetic, and simple tactics explanation.
Ma Changsheng personally drafted the training syllabus, Coach Sun was responsible for its implementation, and Tie Zhu supervised it.
The training was tough, but no one complained—everyone understood that only by training well could they survive.
In addition to military training, Ma Changsheng also organized production.
He organized the women and children in the fortress and established a "logistics camp": the women spun yarn, wove cloth, sewed clothes and cooked; the elderly wove baskets and made ropes and looked after the children; the children also had tasks - gathering firewood, herding sheep and delivering messages.
He also established a "crafts camp": blacksmiths forged weapons and farm tools, carpenters made vehicles and machinery, bricklayers reinforced fort walls, and a team of doctors led by Aunt Chen developed medicines.
The entire Majiabao area operates like a sophisticated machine, functioning efficiently.
On the 20th day of the twelfth lunar month, Ma Changsheng convened the second joint defense meeting.
This time, the program expanded to include thirty villages—fifteen more villages volunteered to join.
The meeting was held in the newly built "Joint Defense Hall," which can accommodate 100 people.
Ma Changsheng reported on his observations during his trip to Jiujiang, and then proposed a new plan:
"Everyone, defense alone is not enough; we must take the initiative."
"Attack? Attack whom?" someone asked.
"Fight bandits, fight small groups of outlaws, fight... disobedient government troops," Ma Changsheng said. "I suggest establishing a 'Rapid Response Team' of one hundred men, mounted on horseback, specifically to deal with small groups of enemies. If any village is in trouble, the Rapid Response Team can arrive within half a day."
"What about the large enemy force?"
"The main force, all villages will defend together." Ma Changsheng pointed to the map. "I designed a 'tiered defense' system: the outermost village will immediately sound the alarm if it discovers enemy activity; the middle villages will prepare to provide support; and Majiabao Village will send reinforcements. If the enemy wants to break in, they'll have to chip away at it layer by layer."
He also proposed an "intelligence network" plan: to place informants at every important intersection and market town to collect information on the movements of bandits and government troops. Intelligence agents would report regularly, and important intelligence would be transmitted immediately.
These measures have gone beyond the scope of a local militia and are almost the rudiments of a small regime.
But in chaotic times, no one questions anything—survival is all that matters.
The meeting approved all proposals.
Thirty villages, nearly 20,000 people, and an area of fifty li in radius formed a defensive community with Majiabao as its core.
The 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month is the Little New Year.
An uninvited guest arrived at Majiabao – Magistrate Qian of Qishui County, accompanied by a matchmaker.
Ma Changsheng was watching the training on the drill ground when he heard that the county magistrate had arrived. He felt a chill in his heart: coming at this time could not be good news.
Sure enough, inside the ancestral hall, Magistrate Qian beamed, "Chang Sheng, congratulations! Passing the imperial examination at eleven, your future is limitless! The county magistrate has high praise for you!"
"You flatter me, Magistrate," Ma Changsheng said politely. "I didn't know you were here..."
Magistrate Qian stroked his beard: "The county magistrate wishes to invite you to give lectures at the county school after the spring, to impart your experience to the students. And...?"
He glanced at the matchmaker beside him: "There's another piece of good news. The Zhao family in the east of the city has a daughter, fourteen years old, well-educated and sensible. The Zhao family has heard of your youthful talent and wants to arrange a marriage between your families. That's why they asked me to act as matchmaker."
Ma Changsheng was stunned. Eleven years old, talking about marriage? Although it was normal in this era, he was completely unprepared.
Ma Sanbao and Li Shi's eyes lit up—their son had passed the imperial examination, and now they were talking about a good marriage—it was double happiness!
"The Zhao family..." Ma Sanbao rubbed his hands together. "They're a very wealthy family! I heard they own thousands of acres of fertile land and more than a dozen shops..."
Magistrate Qian laughed and said, "Exactly. Master Zhao said that as long as the marriage goes through, the dowry will include two hundred acres of fertile land, two shops, and a considerable amount of gold and silver jewelry. Changsheng, this is truly a stroke of good fortune!"
Ma Changsheng calmed down.
Master Zhao? He remembered Zhao Ming from the children's examination; he was Master Zhao's son.
The Zhao family is the richest family in the county, but they have a bad reputation—exploiting the people, colluding with officials, and their son Zhao Ming is a dissolute playboy.
This marriage was probably not based on his "talent," but rather on his status as a scholar who had passed the imperial examinations, and the military strength of Majiabao.
After the marriage alliance, the Zhao family had armed protection, making it easier for them to do business within the sphere of influence of Majiabao.
Political marriage.
Ma Changsheng sneered inwardly, but outwardly appeared troubled: "I am grateful for your kindness, Magistrate. However, I am still young and should prioritize my studies. Moreover... marriage is a matter of great importance, and I dare not act on my own initiative, as it is my parents' decision."
He passed the buck to his parents.
Ma Sanbao and Li Shi, however, were blinded by the promise of "two hundred acres of land and two shops," and kept saying, "It's easy to discuss, easy to discuss."
County Magistrate Qian left satisfied, saying, "I'll be waiting for your good news."
As soon as the person left, Ma Changsheng closed the door and said to his parents solemnly, "Father, Mother, we cannot agree to this marriage."
"Why?" Ma Sanbao asked, puzzled. "The Zhao family is incredibly wealthy!"
"They're rich, but they have no morals," Ma Changsheng said. "Master Zhao lends money at exorbitant interest rates and has driven people to their deaths; Zhao Ming bullies men and women—he's no good. If we marry into such a family, it will ruin our reputation."
Li hesitated: "But... so much dowry..."
"Mother, what our Ma Family Fort lacks right now isn't money, it's the hearts of the people," Ma Changsheng said. "Why do the people follow us? Because we protect them and don't bully them. If we were to form a marriage alliance with a tyrant like the Zhao family, what would the people think?"
He paused for a moment, then said, "Besides, I'm only eleven years old. What's the rush? We can talk about marriage when the world is at peace."
Ma Sanbao wanted to argue further, but Ma Changsheng said, "Father, think about it. Why is the Zhao family proposing marriage now? Because our Ma Family Fortress has three hundred local militia who can protect them. They're using us! What will they do to us once they've used us up, or when we lose power?"
These words enlightened Ma Sanbao.
He recalled Zhao Yuanwai's character; he was indeed snobbish.
"Then... how should we refuse? We can't afford to offend the county magistrate who's acting as matchmaker."
Ma Changsheng thought for a moment and said, "Just say that I consulted a fortune teller who said it's not advisable for me to marry before the age of twenty, otherwise I'll suffer misfortune. Also, prepare generous gifts for the county magistrate and Master Zhao as an apology."
That's all we can do.
Although the wedding was postponed, Ma Changsheng knew that this was just the beginning.
As his status rises, more people will want to befriend him, arrange marriages with him, or take advantage of him.
He must be more cautious.
On New Year's Eve of the twelfth year of Chongzhen (1639), Majiabao was busy with preparations.
There was no usual festivities, only a simple ancestral worship ceremony, and then everyone went to their places—the bandits didn't celebrate the New Year, and they couldn't let their guard down either.
At midnight, in a secret room of the ancestral hall.
Ma Changsheng, Ma Sanbao, Instructor Sun, Tiezhu, and two new members: Chen Jiru and Li Wenbin.
After failing the provincial examination, the two men did not return to the county town, but stayed in Majiabao.
Chen Jiru said, "The county town will be in chaos sooner or later, it's safer here." Li Wenbin was even more direct: "I think following Changsheng is more promising than taking the imperial examinations."
Ma Changsheng welcomed them. Chen Jiru was literate and was in charge of documents and accounts; Li Wenbin knew some medicine and assisted Aunt Chen.
At this moment, the five people sat around a table with a map of Hubei and Hunan spread out in the middle.
"Breaking news," Ma Changsheng said, pointing to the map, "Zhang Xianzhong has rebelled in Gucheng, captured Fang County, and killed the magistrate. Zuo Liangyu's troops are observing and not moving. Xiangyang is in grave danger."
Everyone's expressions were solemn.
Xiangyang is the gateway to Huguang (Hubei and Hunan provinces). Once Xiangyang falls, the entire Huguang region will be opened up.
"What was the court's reaction?" Instructor Sun asked.
"We can mobilize troops, but there are no troops to mobilize." Ma Changsheng sneered. "Hong Chengchou and Sun Chuanting are fighting the Qing in the north; Lu Xiangshan died in battle; Yang Sichang... is all talk and no action. Now the only one who can fight is Zuo Liangyu, but he holds onto his troops and refuses to obey orders."
"Then let's..." Tie Zhu asked.
"We'll continue preparations according to plan," Ma Changsheng said, "but we must prepare for the worst: if Zhang Xianzhong attacks, will we fight or retreat?"
"Fight!" Tie Zhu and Instructor Sun said at the same time.
"Let's go." Chen Jiru shook his head. "Zhang Xianzhong boasts a million men; how can we, with only a few hundred, possibly fight him?"
Li Wenbin hesitated: "Could we... negotiate? Should we give him money and supplies, and ask him not to attack us?"
Ma Changsheng looked at the map and pondered for a long time: "Three possibilities: First, Zhang Xianzhong's main force will take the Xiangyang-Jingzhou line and bypass us; second, he will divide his forces to seize territory, and a detachment may come; third, his entire army will press on, in which case we have no choice but to leave."
He paused for a moment: "So we need to prepare for both scenarios. On the one hand, we need to continue strengthening our defenses and make it look like we're holding out to the death; on the other hand, we need to secretly prepare an escape route—the shelter in the back mountain needs to be expanded to accommodate at least five hundred people; food and weapons need to be dispersed and hidden, and important personnel need to be moved in advance."
"And what about the common people?" Ma Sanbao asked. "Thirty villages, more than 20,000 people..."
Ma Changsheng remained silent.
This is the most difficult.
Majiabao can take away a few hundred people, but twenty thousand... cannot be taken away, nor can they be protected.
"We can only accept our fate." His voice was low. "We are not gods, we cannot save everyone. What we can do is to delay as much as possible, giving people time to escape; and also, to preserve the spark—we, these books, these experiences, are the spark. As long as the spark remains, we can rebuild in the future."
This is harsh, but true.
In chaotic times, it is already a blessing to be able to preserve one's own small piece of land.
They held a secret meeting until the early hours of the morning.
When I stepped out of the ancestral hall, the snow had stopped, and the east was beginning to lighten.
The new year, the thirteenth year of the Chongzhen reign (1640), has arrived.
Ma Changsheng stood on the fortress wall, gazing at the distant mountain silhouettes. He knew this was the calm before the storm.
Next year, Zhang Xianzhong will sweep across Huguang, Li Zicheng will rise again, and the Qing army will once again enter the pass... The death knell of the Ming Dynasty has already sounded.
And he, this consciousness from the future, will personally experience all of this within this eleven-year-old body.
It's not about changing history—at least not now.
It's just to survive.
To protect the people around you.
In order to... await that distant moment of awakening.
In the morning light, the first rooster crowed inside the fort.
There is still a lot to do.
Ma Changsheng took a deep breath of the cold air, turned around and walked down the fortress wall.