Chapter Sixty-Nine: With Roots and Heritage

When Fushou spoke, the entire hall fell silent. No one had expected him to propose such a plan. Haija, known as the Barbarian, even wondered if the wine had muddled his hearing—but after confirming he’d heard correctly, he was the first to stand and support Fushou: “The Grand Censor truly sees a thousand li ahead; this strategy is brilliant!”

Haija was responsible for leading the navy, so he understood the realities of the battlefield better than most. Though the Yuan forces had won a resounding victory, their losses were far from negligible. Chen Yexian, loyal to the court, had fallen to the Red Turbans, and Zhang, the commander of Hangzhou Road, had died in battle; below the commanders, at least several dozen officers had perished. While they had killed, wounded, and captured thousands of Red Turban soldiers, the Chuzhou Red Turban Army remained formidable. In Jiangbei, large numbers of former Yuan loyalists from the Green Army and Spearmen had defected. The situation had shifted from passive to active, but the final outcome was still uncertain.

The true impact of this battle lay in the elimination of Guo Tianxu and Zhang Tianyou, the two most notorious bandits among the Chuzhou Red Turbans. Yet the actual leader of the Chuzhou Red Turbans was Deputy Marshal Zhu Yuanzhang, and the death of Guo and Zhang seemed merely to grant Zhu greater advantage.

Besides Zhu Yuanzhang, Marshal Liu Yi of Chaohu also benefited greatly. According to rumors among the rebels, Liu Yi was Guo Zixing’s son-in-law, with a strong chance to inherit Guo’s legacy.

It was unclear whether Liu Yi or Zhu Yuanzhang would ultimately prevail, but if the majority in the Censorate followed their advice to press the attack all the way to the gates of Taiping, Liu Yi and Zhu Yuanzhang would surely set aside their differences and unite against the Yuan’s assault.

However, if the strategy shifted to recruitment and appeasement, things would change. Zhu Yuanzhang and Liu Yi were already poised for a fierce struggle; a policy of appeasement would certainly exacerbate hostilities between these two factions, perhaps leading to open conflict—thus allowing the Censorate to win without fighting.

Support for this view extended beyond Haija: “High Censor, your insight is profound. To deal with the Red Turbans, we must win their hearts!”

“This Red Turban band is among the most formidable in the realm. To subdue them, we must use not only force, but also the pen’s artistry!”

“Now, with the Red Turbans newly beaten, it’s a heaven-sent opportunity for recruitment!”

Most of the officials voicing support for appeasement were commanders on the front lines. Though they led troops in battle, the Censorate was largely composed of scholars who had traded brush for sword, not military men by birth or training. Commanding armies was not their forte, and the Chuzhou Red Turbans were formidable adversaries. Thus, these commanders hoped to seize this chance to bring the conflict to a swift end through recruitment.

Yet the majority in the Censorate could not grasp Fushou’s intentions. Someone immediately stood to dissent: “Commander Zhang of Hangzhou Road shed the last drop of blood for our Censorate. His body is scarcely cold, yet instead of seeking justice for his death, we rush to recruit the Red Turban bandits. If word gets out, morale will surely crumble!”

Although the battle at Hucun was officially a great victory, in truth it was a mutual disaster. The Chuzhou Red Turbans lost Guo Tianxu and Zhang Tianyou, while the Yuan side lost Volunteer Marshal Chen Yexian and Commander Zhang Zhen of Hangzhou Road and Yingchuan. Those now protesting on Zhang’s behalf were his patrons within the camp.

Officially, Zhang died by the hand of Red Turban Zhao Pusheng, but in reality, he fell due to the actions of the Jiangzhe Provincial Government. Had Vice-Governor Mai Shuteng and Left Censor Zuodanali not deliberately delayed their troops, only Chen Zhaoxian and Zhang Zhen would have fought at Hucun, and it would have been a total annihilation of the Red Turbans—none of their four or five commanders would have escaped.

Since the provincial government withheld its forces, the battle ended in mutual devastation, and Zhang’s death remained clouded in mystery. His patrons naturally demanded justice.

Such circumstances were deeply chilling. Zhang’s death was heroic and unjust, and he died for the Censorate. Yet the Censorate only followed protocol for compensation, with no extra gestures, and was eager to recruit Zhu Yuanzhang and Liu Yi, the notorious Red Turban leaders. His patrons and friends could not accept this reality.

But Fushou was unyielding, suppressing their dissent: “I know Commander Zhang died heroically for our Censorate, but the question is—what do we do now?”

“Should we petition the court to dismiss Mai Shuteng and Zuodanali? Besides, Zuodanali is one of our own from the Censorate; any disturbance will reach him first, and some among us are his informants! Moreover, though we achieved victory at Hucun, the provincial government and the Spearmen also won a major battle. If we petition, how will the court view us? How will His Majesty judge us? We cannot engage in factional disputes with the provincial government!”

“Furthermore, they have strong connections!”

The phrase “strong connections” held a peculiar magic in the Yuan Dynasty—arguably its core system. Whether Mongol, Semu, Han, or Southern people, anyone with “connections” could rise swiftly; those without, even Mongols, had to climb slowly through hardship.

Fushou himself was a “connected Semu,” but so were Mai Shuteng, Zuodanali, and all the provincial government’s ministers—they had “big connections.” Even if the court wanted to act, at most it would shuffle their positions.

Therefore, Zhang’s patrons and friends in the Censorate were left speechless. Fushou continued: “For now, we can only grant Zhang’s family more silver, and elevate the posthumous honors as much as possible. I will negotiate with the provincial government, but that’s the limit. If we provoke them, where will we get our food, our drink, our soldiers? The urgent task is recruitment. Who do you think, Liu Yi or Zhu Yuanzhang, is more likely to be appeased?”

The discussion erupted in a chorus of voices: “When Chancellor Toqto attacked Gaoyou, Guo Zixing and Zhu Yuanzhang were open to appeasement. Though the plan failed after Gaoyou’s defeat, the thread was never severed—it can be revived now!”

“I think Liu Yi’s Chaohu navy is weaker. Recruiting him may be the better choice!”

“Recruit both sides and see who shows more sincerity!”

“We must take a dual approach—not just to the leaders, but to all the Red Turban commanders and captains!”

Yet Haija voiced a completely different opinion: “I understand everyone’s views, but I believe recruiting Zhu Yuanzhang is the best strategy!”