Chapter Sixty-Four: Dividing the Spoils

Eunuch Guo arrived at the Jin Family Stronghold at the hour of the Boar, bringing his men with him. On the way, Lin Xiaoqi gave him a rough account of how the fortress had been seized. When he heard that Lu Qing had drowned all the surrendering Tatars in the well, Eunuch Guo was truly startled. It was hard to imagine that this young man could have become so ruthless and merciless.

Still, he felt no resentment toward Lu Qing. After all, Guo himself was no naive scholar, his mouth filled with talk of benevolence and righteousness. Whether those Mongol scoundrels lived or died was of no concern to him.

His only regret was being unable to present those surrendering Tatars for merit. The court valued such captives highly—whether captured alive or as beheaded foes, reporting them would bring significant recognition. Had he been able to bring a few dozen living Tatars with him, Eunuch Guo would have shone in the Emperor’s presence and felt all the more confident before His Majesty.

But since the men were already dead, regret was useless. At least the Jin Family Stronghold had been taken at last; whatever tomorrow might bring, tonight he could finally sleep soundly.

The defeated soldiers without weapons were in high spirits, shouting and flocking toward the fortress, which made Eunuch Guo frown deeply. All this loud commotion, and they weren’t even afraid of being discovered by the Oirat.

Fan Ruoyuan had originally planned to join the assault but, considering that after they left, Eunuch Guo would lack capable protection, Lu Qing forcibly left him behind, despite Fan’s protests, with a single task: not to leave Eunuch Guo’s side for even a moment.

Though Fan felt aggrieved, he knew Eunuch Guo’s safety was tied to their own lives and futures. So, despite his dissatisfaction, he faithfully stayed at Eunuch Guo’s side, not daring to slack off in the slightest.

When Eunuch Guo learned that young Tian Yin’s entire family had been slaughtered by the Oirat, he felt great pity and had Fan keep Tian Yin with him in his carriage, chatting with the boy from time to time along the way.

At first, Tian Yin was reluctant to talk to this beardless elder, always remaining wary of this unfamiliar adult. But Eunuch Guo was a man who had served in the palace for decades and had seen and cajoled every sort of person. He could speak to people as people and to ghosts as ghosts—charming a child was nothing for him. With little effort and in less than the time it took for half a stick of incense to burn, he had won the boy’s genuine affection, much to Fan’s private amazement and even envy. He was glad for Tian Yin’s fortune—perhaps this was a stroke of luck, and the boy might yet find a better fate.

...

When the carriage reached the Jin Family Stronghold, Lu Qing, Song Bangde, Ji Xiaoqi, and others were already waiting at the gate. On either side stood ten Ming soldiers, hands resting on their long sabres, looking spirited and imposing.

Soldiers kept watch along the walls, and not far away on the riverbank, dozens of Ming soldiers were digging pits to bury the dead.

From time to time, carts loaded with corpses trundled toward the riverbank. Among the dead were women ravaged by the Tatars, military peasants from the stronghold, and more than a dozen Oirat killed by the Ming.

The Oirat had only seized the stronghold that morning. After taking it, aside from leaving some young women, they massacred the rest, men and women alike, leaving over a thousand corpses.

Though Tulushi and his men had spent half a day dealing with the bodies, they had no time to dig graves and simply tossed them into the Clear Stone River to save labor. Even so, the corpses were so numerous that after half a day’s work, only five or six hundred had been thrown in; the rest were left for the next day. But Lu Qing’s men had struck unexpectedly, leaving the remaining corpses for the Ming to handle.

Out of respect for Han burial customs, Lu Qing had the soldiers drag the bodies to the riverbank to be buried, so the dead could rest in peace. Unfortunately, this proved a bitter task for the handful of Ming assigned to it.

With several hundred corpses to bury, the workload was overwhelming. After digging a few deep pits and burying a dozen or so, the men gave up on depth, instead scraping out shallow holes just big enough to fit a body, tossing the corpses in, and covering them over with earth.

Some pits were so shallow that the heads of the buried still protruded above ground; others had limbs sticking out. In short, the burials were a sorry sight.

Lu Qing had gone to see for himself but could not bring himself to be angry. He had thought there were only a few dozen female corpses, not knowing hundreds more of the original military peasants lay dead within the fortress. The sheer number was beyond anything he’d imagined. To bury them all properly was impossible—what had been done already was the limit of what these Ming could manage. To expect proper deep burial for each was wishful thinking; even had the men been willing, time would not have allowed it.

...

While the riverbank was filled with the grim work of burial, within the fortress, many hearths sent up columns of smoke, and even before they approached, the aroma of food made the defeated soldiers’ stomachs rumble with hunger.

Lu Qing and Song Bangde first led the officers in organizing the defeated soldiers’ entry into the fortress. To prevent any harm to the pitiful women within, they housed all the defeated soldiers in the eastern half, which still had many houses of the original military peasants, though it was crowded.

To guard against anyone among the soldiers acting with animal lust, Lu Qing specifically had Jiang Tong lead a few "Night Runners" in constant patrols. Though these were few compared to the several hundred defeated soldiers, it was better than nothing and served to let the men know there was some oversight.

Fortunately, though these defeated soldiers were desperate men who had done anything to survive, they still retained some humanity. They knew these women were already victims whose homes and families had been destroyed, and to further harm them would be beneath even beasts. While a few men eyed the women with interest, none dared actually commit such crimes.

The women had at first thought their rescuers were imperial troops sent by the court. But when they saw the defeated soldiers, weaponless and desperate, they realized these Ming were not a relief army, but fugitives beaten and driven out by the Tatars. The hope that had sprung in their hearts was instantly dashed. Some, hearing talk among the men of fleeing south the next day, grew even more despondent, their faces turning ashen.

...

“Well done, young man.”

Seeing that Lu Qing was unhurt, Eunuch Guo’s heart was at ease. He praised Lu Qing, glanced at the carts of bodies, sighed, and followed Lu Qing and the others into the fortress.

The women had prepared food and also thoughtfully boiled plenty of hot water. Song Bangde pulled fifty men from among the weaponless Ming to serve food, while Ji Xiaoqi maintained order. For the time being, everything proceeded smoothly.

After everyone had eaten their fill, Lu Qing, in Eunuch Guo’s name, summoned all officers of the rank of ensign and above among the soldiers, and also had the weaponless Ming select a dozen or so leaders to gather at the headquarters to discuss the distribution of captured goods.

These dozen or so leaders were the core figures among the fugitives, each surrounded by anywhere from a few to dozens of followers, and all were physically stronger than the rest.

The female corpses from headquarters had just been removed, but the bloodstains remained, and a heavy scent of blood hung in the air.

Eunuch Guo was reluctant to remain long in this blood-soaked room, especially as the topic was distribution of spoils—a subject he instinctively resisted. But, unable to refuse Lu Qing’s urging, he forced himself to sit.

Song Bangde gave an overview of the captured loot, concealing nothing. He told them the goods were worth between twenty and thirty thousand taels, but they were not all silver or copper coins—there were all sorts of items.

At the mention of such a sum, everyone in the room grew excited, their hearts burning with anticipation. They cared nothing for the specifics, but stared at Eunuch Guo, waiting for this high official to announce a distribution that would satisfy them all.

Having Eunuch Guo preside over the distribution was Lu Qing’s plan from the start. He and Song Bangde lacked the seniority to command everyone’s respect. No matter how they divided things, someone would be dissatisfied and grumble about unfairness. To prevent bloodshed over “uneven division of spoils,” he had no choice but to bring out the great Buddha that was Eunuch Guo. With his rank and authority as the Daotong town’s supervising eunuch, no one would dare object to whatever plan he announced.

“My lord, please proceed,” Lu Qing said respectfully, signaling Eunuch Guo to begin.

“Ahem…”

Eunuch Guo coughed softly and stood. To him, a mere twenty or thirty thousand taels was nothing; he disdained to touch a share. But what he cared nothing for, these impoverished soldiers coveted dearly.

Frontier troops received a monthly wage of two to three taels, often less after deductions and embezzlement, with two taels a month at best—barely twenty taels a year. That was just enough to scrape by, with no hope of real prosperity.

Now, with loot worth twenty or thirty thousand taels to divide, each man’s share would be at least thirty taels—more than a year’s pay. No wonder their eyes burned with greed.

Eunuch Guo did not make them wait. He announced the plan he had decided upon en route—essentially what Lu Qing had earlier proposed: those who participated in the assault would receive forty percent more than those who did not, and the loot would be divided equally between cash and goods, so no one could claim unfairness.

Eunuch Guo swept his gaze over the assembly and asked, “Does anyone object to this method of division? Speak freely to me.”

“We have no objection; we’ll do as my lord says!”

The plan was fair enough. Those who made the effort should not be treated the same as those who did not; a truly equal division would be unfair. With no one dissenting, Lu Qing signaled for everyone to disperse. Song Bangde would later supervise distribution.

Song Bangde himself was against immediately distributing the loot. He wanted to store it all and divide it only once they reached safety. Lu Qing disagreed, believing that if they did not divide it now, the men would grow resentful and suspect the officers intended to keep it for themselves. Once they reached safety, it would be entirely up to Eunuch Guo, and who could say if the common soldiers would get their share? If anyone stirred up trouble, the hard-won unity would shatter. Besides, with over a dozen large chests of loot, how could they transport it all? Would they risk death for mere treasure?

If Lu Qing disagreed, so did Eunuch Guo, and Song Bangde dared not press the matter. He did not wish to risk disaster; if the men thought the officers meant to keep the loot, a mutiny would be inevitable, and he might end up butchered by his own troops.

Thus, Song Bangde set about preparing the distribution with Lin and Ji.

...

From the fortress wall, Lu Qing watched the soldiers below eagerly receiving their shares, grinning from ear to ear, while others craned their necks in anticipation. Each face, distorted by greed, now seemed strange to him, and he shook his head in silence.

Loot, he thought, was enticing, but it could also bring ruin. With this sudden wealth, most of these Ming soldiers would lose their will to fight. The journey ahead would be all the harder; if danger arose, they would likely scatter and run rather than stand and fight.

If not for the sake of rescuing the women seized by the Tatars, Lu Qing would never have used treasure to tempt these defeated men. Money could drive people to desperate acts, but it could also cloud their judgment.

People were selfish by nature, he realized. Only Zhou Yunyi and his companions could truly be relied upon.

In Lu Qing’s line of sight, Zhou Yunyi, Jiang Tong, and seven or eight men from the Night Runners stood by the gate, coldly watching the distribution. On the riverbank, a dozen Ming still labored silently, digging graves, not joining the line for their share.

Suddenly, Lu Qing considered whether he should abandon these Ming, now blinded by their newfound wealth, and take only Zhou Yunyi and the Night Runners to escort Eunuch Guo on the road. Quality, not quantity, mattered most in soldiers. With the Mongol horses in the stronghold, did he really need to bring so many people south? In some ways, these Ming, burdened with silver and cloth, had become a liability.

As he pondered the feasibility of this idea, Eunuch Guo, supported by Tian Yin, slowly made his way up to the fortress wall, moving with great care after the meal.

Lu Qing quickly stepped forward to help him, using his sleeve to wipe off a stone for Guo to sit on.

No sooner had Eunuch Guo seated himself than he asked, “What do you plan to do with those women? Don’t tell me you mean to take them with us.”

“Sir…”

It was a question Lu Qing knew would come. He had yet to decide how to settle those poor women. Pausing to consider, he was just about to ask Eunuch Guo for his thoughts when he saw, to his surprise, the women who had been staying on the western side of the fortress suddenly surge out together, rushing straight for the gate.