Wang Xiaohua's killing of the notorious Black Fiend was, without question, a major achievement, one worthy of formal commendation and promotion within the army.
Yet this merit would never truly leave the military's own closed circle.
When the time came to submit the official memorial to the Emperor, the wording would be polished, rearranged, and reassigned without the slightest hesitation. On paper, it would become: Under the wise command of Grand General Du Wenhuan, Shaanxi Regional Commander Wang Cheng'en personally led the assault, charged bravely at the forefront, and slew the rebel general Black Fiend.
Du Wenhuan would gain credit.
Wang Cheng'en would gain credit.
As for Wang Xiaohua, the man who had actually pulled the trigger, his name would never reach the Emperor's ears.
Fortunately, Bai Mao truly did not care in the slightest.
At heart, he was still a raw, unpolished rebel, a diehard follower of Wang Er of Baishui, steeped in the original spirit of the late Ming peasant uprisings. If one were to speak of revolutionary fervor, he was in many ways even more uncompromising than the older generation of Gao Family Village. Ambition within the imperial bureaucracy held little attraction for him.
In fact, this very lack of desire made him the perfect person to infiltrate enemy ranks.
As the great generals began gathering together to discuss their next moves, Bai Mao quietly retreated to a corner of the hall. Lowering his voice, he spoke to the cloth puppet perched on his shoulder.
"Dao Xuan Tianzun, I've secured the post of battalion commander. That's four hundred forty soldiers under my name now. The next step is to bring in our own people and replace the existing garrison troops, right?"
Li Daoxuan fell silent for a moment, frowning slightly as he considered the situation.
In the late Ming, the lives of garrison soldiers were already miserable beyond words. They barely survived on meager stipends, often unpaid for months or even years. If these troops were suddenly dismissed, they would instantly lose what little livelihood they had, and many of them would almost certainly drift straight into banditry.
That would be a disaster.
Gao Family Village claimed to reform bandits and give people a path back to stability. If it also pushed desperate soldiers into becoming outlaws, such righteousness would be nothing more than a hollow slogan.
"These men must be kept," the puppet of Dao Xuan Tianzun said calmly. "Our own people will join, but the garrison troops must remain as well. Both sides will be used."
Bai Mao blinked, genuinely confused. "Then won't there be too many people? If the court notices an overstrength battalion, wouldn't they suspect rebellion and ruin all our careful planning?"
The puppet's embroidered mouth curved faintly upward in a knowing smile. "Just watch."
Bai Mao's expression filled with question marks.
He did not have to wait long for an answer.
When the garrison soldiers assigned to him by Wang Cheng'en arrived to report for duty, Bai Mao personally stood there and counted them one by one. He counted slowly, carefully, unwilling to miss a single man.
When he finished, his heart sank.
There were only two hundred forty soldiers.
Not only that, but this unit somehow had four centurions, each commanding a little over fifty men.
Cold sweat immediately broke out along Bai Mao's back. "What is going on here? Aren't there supposed to be four hundred forty men?"
One of the centurions, surnamed Zhao, stepped forward. He looked at Bai Mao with the faintly amused, faintly pitying gaze reserved for a complete newcomer. "General Wang," he said lazily, "there's nothing wrong with the numbers."
Bai Mao stared at him. "Nothing wrong? Am I counting wrong, or are you? Four centurions should command four hundred forty men in total. Why are there only two hundred forty here?"
Centurion Zhao leaned closer and lowered his voice. "This battalion has been like this for more than a hundred years. Every commander before you accepted it as standard. The pay for the missing two hundred soldiers is still issued in full. That surplus, General, is meant for you."
"If we truly brought all four hundred forty men," he added quietly, "you wouldn't have a single extra coin left at the end of the month."
Bai Mao let out a sharp, incredulous sound. "Pfft."
Centurion Zhao secretly shook his head. This new general really was green. Anyone else would be overjoyed at the thought of pocketing the stipends of two hundred men. Instead, this one looked vaguely disgusted.
At last, Bai Mao understood what Dao Xuan Tianzun had meant by "no overstaffing."
The idea was simple. Keep these two hundred forty garrison soldiers, then quietly add two hundred men from Gao Family Village.
He gave a short, humorless laugh. "No wonder these garrison troops fight like wet paper. So even an army that claims ten thousand men only has six thousand or so actually present?"
"Six thousand?" Centurion Zhao muttered. "That's generous. A general who can gather five thousand is already considered upright."
Bai Mao could not help sneering. "Aren't those grand generals afraid of losing battles?"
Dao Xuan Tianzun's voice sounded softly in his ear. "Why would they be? They all maintain private troops. The stipends from those phantom soldiers are used to raise loyal house guards, men desperate enough to die for them. In battle, the house guards charge forward. The garrison troops stay behind."
Bai Mao nodded slowly, a look of sudden clarity crossing his face. "I understand now. When our people arrive from Gao Family Village, we'll list them as my personal guards."
After hastily reorganizing his pitifully undermanned battalion, Bai Mao returned to the main hall.
The assembled generals were already deep in discussion.
A scout stood before them, reporting in a loud, steady voice. "Wang Jiayin has fled south. Only Zijing Liang and Bai Yuzhu remain with him, and their combined forces are now no more than fifty or sixty thousand."
"As for Chuǎng Wang Gao Yingxiang, the West Camp Eight Great Kings Zhang Xianzhong, Lao Huihui Ma Shouying, Cao Cao, and the others, they have all broken away and scattered in different directions."
Du Wenhuan pondered briefly before speaking. "We do not have the manpower to chase every rebel leader. The Emperor wants Wang Jiayin's head. The rest can be pacified later. Our focus remains solely on Wang Jiayin."
The generals saluted in unison. "Understood."
With the strategy decided, the next steps were clear. They would pursue southward and ignore everything else.
Du Wenhuan then raised another issue. "When Wang Jiayin broke through the encirclement, more than thirty thousand of his people were left behind in Hequ County. Old men, the sick, women, children. They could not flee with the rebels and remain inside the city. What should be done with them?"
A heavy silence fell over the hall.
Every military man present thought of the same answer.
Kill them.
Yet no one dared to say it aloud. Whoever spoke first would become the target of endless accusations from the civil officials preaching pacification. The blame would be pinned on that single voice.
It was an impossible problem, even for seasoned administrators, let alone a hall full of generals.
At that moment, the cloth hand of Dao Xuan Tianzun gently tapped Bai Mao's cheek.
"Suggest entrusting them to Censor Wu Shen."
Understanding dawned instantly.
Bai Mao stepped forward, clasped his fists, and spoke clearly. "Your humble subordinate has a proposal."
The generals' eyes lit up at once. Excellent. Someone willing to take responsibility had finally stepped forward.
Du Wenhuan forced a strained smile, his anger barely contained beneath it. "Commander Wang, let us hear it."
Around him, the other generals silently urged him on. Say it. Say the word. Take the blame.
Bai Mao continued evenly, "Censor Wu Shen arrived with one hundred thousand taels of silver for the purpose of pacifying the rebels. These thirty thousand family members were part of that rebellion. By all logic, they should be handed over to Censor Wu Shen for disposition."
The hall fell silent once more.