xymnovel Chapter 15 The Beginning of a Mountain Stronghold
Chapter 15 The Beginning of a Mountain Stronghold
In May of the thirteenth year of the Chongzhen reign (1640), the plum rain season arrived early.
The rain fell incessantly, causing the Qishui River to swell and breach two dikes, flooding the rice paddies of three villages.
The hilly terrain where Majiabao is located is high and it is temporarily unharmed, but the grain storage cellars have begun to leak, and the wooden frames of the armory have developed mold.
Worse still, the rainy season brought a plague.
First came diarrhea, then fever, and then a rash appeared on my body.
Aunt Chen's face changed drastically upon seeing it: "It's typhoid fever! It's even more virulent than smallpox!"
Ma Changsheng immediately ordered: isolate the patients, boil drinking water, and disinfect the entire fort with moxibustion.
However, typhoid fever is transmitted through water sources, making it difficult to prevent.
Within ten days, more than thirty people fell ill in the fort, including five local militiamen.
The ancestral hall was temporarily converted into a ward, and Aunt Chen, along with several women who knew about herbal medicine, took care of the patient day and night.
Ma Changsheng locked himself in his study and frantically searched medical databases:
Typhoid fever is a bacterial infection that is mainly transmitted through contaminated water and food.
Treatment: There are no specific antibiotics; treatment mainly relies on supportive therapy and some herbal remedies.
Prevention: Isolate patients, boil drinking water, and pay attention to hygiene.
He made a list: honeysuckle, coptis, isatis root, kudzu root, licorice... and ordered Tiezhu to lead people to the mountains to collect herbs. He also ordered: all wells must be covered, and the water must be boiled after being drawn; hands must be washed with soap before meals and after using the toilet; and garbage must be collected and buried deeply.
But these measures came too late.
By the end of May, the death toll in the fort had reached seventeen, including Chen Da Niang's husband—the taciturn old blacksmith.
Grandma Chen cried all night, and the next day, with her eyes red and swollen, she continued to prepare medicine: "The old man is gone, I have to save more people."
Ma Changsheng saw this and felt heavy-hearted.
At Europa, diseases can be easily controlled using nanomedicine technology.
But here, a bout of typhoid fever can claim so many lives.
He realized a problem: the defense system of Majiabao could defend against bandits and government troops, but it could not defend against the plague.
In times of chaos, plagues are often more deadly than weapons of war.
A more comprehensive medical security system must be established.
In early June, the epidemic was finally brought under control.
Of the more than 500 people in Majiabao, more than 60 fell ill and 23 died.
The cost was heavy, but it was much better than the devastating situation outside where nine out of ten houses were empty.
Ma Changsheng convened a meeting with Aunt Chen and several women who had some medical knowledge.
"From today onwards, we will establish a 'Medical Camp'," he said. "Aunt Chen will serve as the camp leader, specifically in charge of medical care and epidemic prevention."
He proposed a system:
Establish an isolation zone—build a few thatched huts at the foot of the mountain outside the fortress specifically to treat patients with infectious diseases.
Establish a medicinal herb garden—clear a plot of land on the back hill to plant commonly used medicinal herbs: honeysuckle, mint, mugwort, houttuynia cordata...
Training medical staff—select twenty literate young people, regardless of gender, to learn medicine from Granny Chen. They will start with simple wound dressing and herbal identification.
Hygiene regulations were established—all village militia members must shower twice a month; wash their hands before meals; not drink unboiled water; and garbage must be disposed of in designated areas.
"These... cost money," Aunt Chen hesitated. "We need to buy the medicinal herbs, and the apprentices need to eat..."
"I'll figure out the money," Ma Changsheng said. "Human life is more important than money."
He did have a solution. After the rainy season, he organized a caravan and set off for Jiujiang again.
This time, the goods brought included several local specialties from Majiabao: "Typhoid Powder" prepared by Aunt Chen, fine farm tools made by the blacksmith, and folding furniture made by the carpentry workshop.
In Jiujiang, he met a pharmaceutical merchant surnamed Hu.
The man was in his forties, lean and capable, and his family had been in the medicinal herb business for three generations. Ma Changsheng showed him the formula and effects of "Shanghan San" (a traditional Chinese medicine), and the herb merchant's eyes lit up.
"This prescription... the combination is exquisite! Where did Master Ma obtain it?"
"It's a family recipe, slightly modified," Ma Changsheng said vaguely. "If Boss Hu is interested, we can cooperate."
An agreement was finally reached: Majiabao would provide the medicinal herbs and formula, while Hu, the herbalist, would be responsible for processing and sales, with profits split 50/50. Hu also agreed to supply Majiabao with scarce medicinal herbs at cost price.
In addition, Ma Changsheng made an even bigger deal: he exchanged 500 shi of grain for a batch of iron ingots and sulfur.
Iron ingots are used to forge weapons, sulfur... it has other uses.
On the return journey, the caravan had five more large wagons, fully loaded with goods.
More importantly, Ma Changsheng brought back two people: Hu Qing, the nephew of the medicine merchant Hu, a twenty-year-old young man who knew some medicine and volunteered to come to Majiabao to "learn the craft"; and an old craftsman surnamed Song who specialized in making firearms.
The craftsman from Song was an eccentric man. He was over sixty years old, had one eye, and was missing three fingers on his left hand—all of which were blown off during the trial production of firearms.
But he was obsessed with firearms, and when he heard that Majiabao was interested in developing firearms, he wanted to come even without pay.
"Firearms are the future!" he said excitedly to Ma Changsheng. "Swords, spears, bows, and arrows are outdated! I've seen the barbarians' muskets; they can pierce armor from a hundred paces away! Our Ming Dynasty also has good firearms, but unfortunately..."
Unfortunately, the court was corrupt, the artisans were poorly paid, and their skills stagnated.
Ma Changsheng arranged for the craftsman Song to work in a secluded cave in the back mountains, where a simple firearms workshop was built. Conditions were harsh, but the craftsman Song was satisfied: "Quiet! Nobody bothers us!"
Ma Changsheng's first task for him was to improve the existing ten muskets.
"Modern muskets are slow to load, inaccurate, and prone to barrel explosions," Ma Changsheng said. "I need you to solve three problems: first, increase the rate of fire; second, increase the range; and third, ensure safety."
The Song craftsman thought for a moment: "We can use the Portuguese method to make the cannon. When loading, we can change the magazine, instead of pouring gunpowder and stuffing the bullet, which will be twice as fast."
"Okay! What materials do you need?"
"Wrought iron, copper, and... master craftsmen."
Ma Changsheng transferred the three best blacksmiths from the blacksmith shop to Song craftsmen, and also allocated fifty taels of silver from the treasury as operating expenses.
A month later, the first improved musket was produced.
On the day of the test launch, Ma Changsheng, Coach Sun, and Tiezhu were all present.
"Bang!"
The wooden target, a hundred paces away, was pierced by the bullet.
Reloading time: Originally one minute, now thirty seconds. Ten rounds were fired in succession without any barrel explosion.
"It's done!" The craftsman, Song, was so moved that tears streamed down his face. "My life, old Song, has been worthwhile!"
Ma Changsheng was also pleased, but he had a higher request: "Could you build something bigger? Like... a cannon?"
The Song craftsman was startled: "Cannons? How much iron and gunpowder would that take?"
"Take it slow," Ma Changsheng said. "Build small ones first, enough to fire two or three hundred paces. They'll be more effective than bows and arrows for defending the fortress."
He had an even crazier idea: a gunpowder pack launcher.
Simply put, it involves using a modified catapult to throw a lit gunpowder charge, which then explodes upon landing.
Although it has poor accuracy, it is effective against dense formations.
The idea came from the "primitive artillery" data in the consciousness database, but in this era, it is already a revolutionary weapon.
Upon hearing Ma Changsheng's description, the craftsman Song's eyes widened in astonishment: "Master Ma, where...where did you get this idea from?"
"I learned it from books and figured it out myself," Ma Changsheng said, repeating the same thing.
He cannot say that these "ideas" come from a knowledge base hundreds of years later.
In July, Majiabao began to pilot the "Fort Ticket" system.
The so-called "fort ticket" was actually a certificate printed on white paper, stamped with the official seal of Majiabao and the joint waterproof seal.
There are three denominations: one dou of rice ticket, one chi of cloth ticket, and one qian of silver ticket.
Holders can exchange their tickets for corresponding goods within the thirty villages.
This solved a major problem. Previously, trade between villages involved either barter or copper coins. Now, with the fort tickets, transactions are much more convenient.
Of course, this was predicated on the people trusting the credibility of Majiabao. To this end, Ma Changsheng did several things:
A reserve warehouse was established. Five thousand shi of grain, one thousand bolts of cloth, and five hundred taels of silver were stored in a cave behind Majiabao as collateral for the fort's bonds.
Open and transparent. On the first day of each month, the Joint Defense Hall publishes the reserve situation, which anyone can view.
Free exchange. You can exchange your fort tickets for physical goods at any time, with no delays.
At first, the people were skeptical, but a few bold ones tried it and indeed received grain and cloth in exchange.
As the news spread, the fort tickets gradually began to circulate.
With the introduction of the fort ticket, economic activities in Majiabao became more active.
Farm tools made by blacksmiths could be bought with fort tickets; medicines from medical clinics could be exchanged for fort tickets; even the small tuition fees for children's schooling could be paid with fort tickets.
Ma Changsheng also organized a permanent caravan that made a round trip to Jiujiang once a month.
They brought local specialties from Qishui and brought back goods from outside.
Caravans also accepted fort tickets for settlement—which effectively expanded the scope of use of fort tickets to Jiujiang.
Chen Jiru, in charge of the accounts, was extremely busy every day, but full of energy: "Changsheng, your method is much better than the imperial court's paper money! The imperial court issuing paper money is like robbery, while our issuing fortified banknotes shows we have real reserves!"
Li Wenbin was in charge of the night school.
Now the students include not only local militia members, but also children and even women from ordinary people.
They taught not only literacy, but also arithmetic, bookkeeping, and basic medical skills.
"Education is fundamental," Ma Changsheng told Li Wenbin. "In chaotic times, the more literate people there are, the greater their chance of survival."
In August, an unexpected guest arrived at Majiabao: Zhang Xianzhong's envoy.
The visitor was a middle-aged scholar who claimed to be surnamed Wang and was Zhang Xianzhong's "strategist".
He swaggered into the fortress gate with ten guards by his side.
"Having heard that Master Ma of Majiabao is a young prodigy, my lord has specially dispatched me to pay him a visit." Strategist Wang spoke in a refined manner, but his eyes were cunning.
Ma Changsheng received him at the Lianfang Hall, with Instructor Sun and Tiezhu standing on either side.
"I wonder what brings you here, Mr. Wang?"
Wang, the strategist, stroked his beard and said, "My lord has heard that Lord Ma is a skilled warrior and wishes to invite him to join us in our great cause. If you are willing to serve, you will be appointed a general and command ten thousand men."
"Oh?"
"Furthermore... the thirty villages of Qishui will each pay a monthly tribute of one thousand shi of grain and five hundred taels of silver to my king. Your king will ensure your safety."
This is an attempt to recruit extortionists.
Ma Changsheng laughed: "Mr. Wang, please tell King Zhang: I, Ma Changsheng, am a scholar who passed the imperial examination in the Ming Dynasty. I am loyal to the emperor and will not follow the traitors."
Upon hearing the word "thief," Wang's expression changed.
"Furthermore, the thirty villages of Qishui are barely able to defend themselves and are unable to pay tribute. If King Zhang insists on forcibly taking them, we will have no choice but to fight to the death." Ma Changsheng's tone was calm, but his eyes were sharp. "Mr. Wang saw it when he came: my Ma Family Fortress has high walls and deep moats, and our soldiers are well-trained and well-supplied. If King Zhang wants to fight, how many lives must he be prepared to sacrifice?"
Wang, the strategist, sneered: "Master Ma, do you know how many troops my king has? A million! Can your little fortress possibly hold them off?"
"We can't stop him," Ma Changsheng honestly admitted. "But King Zhang wants the whole country, not this poor, remote place. Is it worth wasting our troops and time here?"
He paused for a moment, then said, "How about this? The thirty villages of Qishui can provide King Zhang with one thing: intelligence."
"intelligence?"
"That's right," Ma Changsheng said. "We are located in a strategic area, and we have excellent communication with people from all directions. We can regularly provide Zhang Dawang with information on the movements of officials and soldiers, the transportation of supplies, and the strength and weakness of the local areas. Of course, there will be a small fee—not much, one hundred shi of grain per month."
This is turning a threat into a deal.
Wang, the strategist, was stunned. He hadn't expected this eleven-year-old to be so experienced.
"I must report this matter to the King."
"Please do as you wish." Ma Changsheng gestured for him to leave. "However, please convey this to King Zhang: if you wish to launch a full-scale attack, we are ready; if you wish to cooperate, we welcome it. But the condition is that you must not harass the people of Qishui."
Wang, the strategist, left with a complex expression.
As soon as the man left, Tiezhu said anxiously, "Changsheng, are you really going to provide Zhang Xianzhong with intelligence? Isn't that colluding with bandits?"
"It's colluding with the bandits, but also self-preservation," Ma Changsheng said. "We don't have the strength to fight Zhang Xianzhong head-on right now, so we can only play along. We can give him intelligence, but whether it's true or false, and how quickly we give it, is up to us."
Instructor Sun nodded: "This is called a delaying tactic. The longer we delay, the stronger we become."
Sure enough, half a month later, Wang's strategist returned with Zhang Xianzhong's reply: he agreed to cooperate, offering 100 shi of grain per month in exchange for intelligence. He also brought a banner with the character "义" (righteousness), saying that if Zhang Xianzhong's troops were to be raised, they would not come to attack.
Ma Changsheng took down the flag, but didn't hang it up—hanging it up would be tantamount to openly surrendering to the traitors.
He put the flag away in the warehouse and "provided" intelligence on time every month: a mixture of truth and falsehood, half true and half false.
Zhang Xianzhong seemed satisfied as well—at least he received 100 shi of grain every month, and he also received some useful information.
A delicate balance has been reached between the two sides.
The "cooperation" with Zhang Xianzhong made Ma Changsheng realize that Majiabao could no longer be just a village fortress.
It must become an independent, self-sufficient, and defensively and counter-attacking stronghold.
In September, he began the "copycat" transformation.
The first is geographical expansion.
The hill where Majiabao is located, along with the surrounding hills, covering an area of five li (approximately 2.5 kilometers), has been designated as the "core area." Here:
To construct permanent fortifications. Not earthen walls, but stone walls—stone quarried from the mountains and laid with lime and glutinous rice mortar. The walls were two zhang high and one zhang thick, with arrow towers and gun emplacements built on them.
They excavated caves in the mountain. The mountainside already had natural caves, which were now expanded to include granary caves, armory caves, and refuge caves. The largest cave could accommodate five hundred people.
Construct a water supply system. Draw water from mountain springs, pipe it into the fortress using bamboo pipes, and build reservoirs and filtration ponds to ensure an uninterrupted water supply during wartime.
Terraced fields were created.
Farmland was cultivated on the hillside to grow drought-resistant crops: sweet potatoes, corn, and potatoes.
Secondly, organizational reform was implemented. Ma Changsheng drafted the "Mountain Village Regulations," clarifying the responsibilities of each level:
The chieftain was Ma Sanbao, but the actual decision-maker was Ma Changsheng.
Military Academy: Instructor Sun is in charge of training, combat, and defense.
Civil Affairs Hall: Chen Jiru was in charge, managing grain, finances, and transactions.
Craftsmanship Hall: In charge of Song Dynasty craftsmen, responsible for the manufacture of weapons and tools.
Medical camp: Chen Da Niang is in charge, in charge of medical care and epidemic prevention.
School: Li Wenbin is in charge, overseeing education and paperwork.
Intelligence Team: Tie Zhu is in charge of reconnaissance, liaison, and intelligence.
Each hall has a head and deputy head, and then several teams are formed below them. The hierarchy is clear and the responsibilities are well-defined.
Most importantly, it is about unifying our thinking.
Ma Changsheng opened a "thought class" at the night school, and personally lectured on it:
"We're gathered here not to get rich, not to become officials, but to survive and protect our families."
"In chaotic times, the government and the imperial court are unreliable; you can only rely on yourself."
"Our mountain stronghold does not oppress the people or rob merchants, but if anyone bullies us, we will fight them to the death."
"Our goal is simple: survive and wait for peace."
These words are simple, yet they touch people's hearts. More and more people are seeing Majiapu as a safe haven in turbulent times.
In early October, the opportunity arrived.
Scouts report: A defeated army of about 500 men has retreated from Xiangyang and is now wandering in the mountains north of Qishui.
These soldiers had lost all discipline and were no different from bandits, looting along the way.
Ma Changsheng decided: to eliminate them.
This is not Zhang Xianzhong's army; fighting them will not disrupt the "cooperation."
Moreover, these defeated soldiers had horses, armor, and weapons—exactly what Majiazhai desperately needed.
He personally led a team of 300 local militia, 50 of whom were equipped with new-style muskets.
The battle unfolded in the hilly area on the north bank of the Qishui River.
Ma Changsheng adopted a new tactic: musketeers in front, firing in three rows; archers on both sides; and spearmen in the rear.
The routed soldiers did not expect to encounter organized resistance and were immediately overwhelmed by the muskets—they had never seen muskets with such a high rate of fire.
Three rounds of fire simultaneously felled dozens of people.
"Charge!" The fleeing soldiers' leader still wanted to fight back.
But Ma Changsheng's formation was tight, with spears like a forest and arrows like a rainstorm.
After half an hour of fierce fighting, the routed soldiers collapsed and fled in all directions.
In this battle, over a hundred enemy soldiers were killed, two hundred were captured, and more than fifty horses, along with countless suits of armor and weapons, were seized.
Only a dozen or so people were injured in Majiazhai; no one was killed.
Big win!
More importantly, this battle earned them a reputation.
Everyone in the surrounding counties and prefectures knows: there's a Majiazhai village in Qishui that's not to be trifled with.
After the war, Ma Changsheng did something unexpected: he released the prisoners of war.
"Those who wish to stay can join the local militia after being vetted; those who want to go home will each be given three bushels of rice and released."
Most of the prisoners chose to stay—they would starve to death anyway if they went home, so they might as well stay and have food. The strength of the troops in Majia Village suddenly increased to seven hundred.
The captured armor and weapons were used to equip one hundred of the most elite men, forming the "Ironclad Corps." The horses were used to form the first true cavalry force—although it consisted of only fifty riders, it was already a significant force for that era.
In the winter of the thirteenth year of the Chongzhen Emperor's reign, for the first time, Majia Village no longer had to worry about surviving the winter. The granaries were full, the weapons were plentiful, and the people were united.
The 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month is the Little New Year. The mountain village is unusually lively. A pig was slaughtered, steamed buns were made, and everyone received half a catty of meat.
Inside the ancestral hall, the core members gathered for a meal. Ma Changsheng made an exception and drank half a bowl of rice wine—his eleven-year-old body had a low alcohol tolerance, but he was happy today.
"This past year has been tough." He raised his bowl. "A toast to all my brothers, to those who died in battle, and to those who survived. I hope that next year, we can still sit here and drink together."
Everyone raised their bowls and drank it all in one gulp.
After the meal, Ma Changsheng climbed the village wall alone.
In the darkness of night, the mountain village is dotted with lights, while the distant villages are shrouded in darkness—there is no such tranquility there.
He recalled his experiences over the past year: from the Wuchang provincial examination to dealing with Ma Yuanli, to establishing the mountain stronghold system... every step was risky, but he made the right choices.
The consciousness database shows:
Age: 11 years old
Physical development: Due to improved nutrition, height and weight are close to the average for their age.
Academic level: Juren (successful candidate in the imperial examination), well-versed in classics and history, and skilled in practical matters.
Military capabilities: Commanded battles involving thousands of troops
Organizational capabilities: Establishing the rudiments of a semi-independent regime
Consciousness Awareness Level: 0.35%
Historical event matching: Zhang Xianzhong captures Wuchang (soon to happen), Li Zicheng captures Luoyang (soon to happen)
Risk assessment: High. However, the company already possesses the ability to protect itself.
It's almost here. He felt the tipping point for awakening his consciousness was drawing ever closer. Maybe next year, maybe the year after.
What will he be like then? Will he be Ma Changsheng, or Ma Yongsheng? Or... a fusion of the two?
he does not know.
But he knew that, regardless of whether he was awakened or not, he had to protect this land and these people.
A cold wind blew by, and he wrapped his robe tighter around himself.
From afar came the sound of the watchman's clapper: It's the third watch.
A new day is about to begin.
Ma Changsheng turned around and climbed down the wall.
There is still much to be done: preparations for spring planting must be made, training must be strengthened, and the intelligence network must be expanded...
This mountain stronghold, this small world that stubbornly thrives in chaotic times, still needs his continued cultivation.
And he will continue on this path.
Until that day—the moment of awakening, or…the end of history.