Chapter Seventy-Seven: Please Cross the River to Deal with Marshal Liu of Chaohu

After Zhang Shicheng took Gaoyou City, he was already quite satisfied. He felt his days were comfortable enough and had no intention of crossing the river. In stark contrast, Zhu Ying, a local magnate from Shihpai in Jiangyin, came from the same salt smuggling background as his old friend Zhang Shicheng, and had dominated his hometown during the chaos. After raising troops, Zhu Ying accepted the Yuan court’s invitation to lay down arms and planned to wash his hands of warfare, thinking much like Zhang Shicheng now: after being pacified, if he couldn't become a regional warlord, he could at least be a wealthy gentleman.

The trouble was, over the past few years, Zhu Ying had amassed more than a mountain of gold and silver; nearly half the wealth accumulated in Jiangyin’s countryside over decades had fallen into his hands. Having been pacified, it was only natural that his enemies would report him to the bigwigs in Jiangyin City. Once those powerful men grew jealous, disaster inevitably followed. Zhu Ying wanted to buy his way out of trouble, but the bigwigs pressed him harder, their demands growing ever more unreasonable until there was no sincerity left. With nowhere to turn, Zhu Ying came to Gaoyou to seek help from Qin Ting.

“Old Zhang, you’re living better than I am now. I only have two or three thousand soldiers, barely enough to protect myself, while you command tens of thousands and have a great city like Gaoyou—you should be able to defend yourself. But when the fighting in Jiangdong ends, regardless of who wins, their first target will be your Gaoyou City!”

Zhang Shicheng felt Zhu Ding was talking nonsense. The Grand Chancellor Tuo Tuo’s four hundred thousand troops had suffered a devastating defeat at Gaoyou’s gates; after such a precedent, who would dare attack Gaoyou City and court destruction?

Yet, thinking it over, Zhang Shicheng realized Zhu Ding had a point. Whoever controlled Jiqing Route (Nanjing) would never tolerate Gaoyou City remaining in the hands of a rival military power. As long as he stayed in Gaoyou, the lords of Jiqing Route would lose sleep at night.

Zhu Ding pressed on, “Even if Jiqing hesitates to invade Gaoyou, they’ll surely take Yangzhou. What then?”

From ancient times, anyone who established their capital in Nanjing had to control Yangzhou. In truth, to secure power in Nanjing, one must control both Jiangling and Yangzhou. This fundamentally clashed with Zhang Shicheng’s wish to retire peacefully. If there was any buffer between Jiqing Route and Gaoyou, it was slim; between Yangzhou and Gaoyou, none existed. If Yangzhou fell to Nanjing, Zhang Shicheng in Gaoyou would never sleep soundly again.

Zhang Shicheng finally set down his teacup. “It’s only a hundred li from Gaoyou to Yangzhou. I intended to wait until Prince of South Pacification, Zhang Mingjian, and Zhao Junyong had worn each other out, then make my move.”

Although Zhang Shicheng always proclaimed himself a “loyal subject of the Great Yuan,” he coveted Yangzhou, which lay so close at hand. But for now, Yangzhou was engulfed in fierce fighting, corpses piled everywhere. The Yuan’s Prince of South Pacification, Zhang Mingjian's Green Army, and the Red Turban leader Zhao Junyong were locked in brutal combat. Zhang Shicheng planned to seize Yangzhou only once all sides were exhausted.

Zhu Ding, however, rebuked him bluntly. “Old Zhang, you’re being foolish. Yangzhou may be good, but does it compare to Jiqing Route, Changzhou Route, Pingjiang Route, Songjiang Route, Hangzhou Route, Jiaxing Route—those cities famed across the land? Yangzhou is so ruined now, I’d say even Jiangyin City outshines it! Rather than waiting to collect Yangzhou, you should boldly cross the river and head south!”

Zhang Shicheng hesitated. “The south is good, infinitely good—I know it well. But that’s precisely the problem: it’s too good, too hard to take!”

He was always clever but indecisive, and so he weighed the pros and cons carefully. “The Jiangsu-Zhejiang provinces supply over a third of the nation’s taxes, so every district and prefecture in the south has a powerful garrison. The turmoil has barely touched them, and each can mobilize thousands of militia. Zhu Yuanzhang’s Red Turbans in Chuzhou and Fang Guozhen in Taizhou are no easy foes. If you, Old Zhu, support me in Jiangyin after I cross the river, we could carve out some land. But conquering all of western and eastern Zhejiang is no simple feat.”

Having smuggled salt with Zhu Ying, their camaraderie allowed them to speak freely. “I may command forty or fifty thousand troops now, but aside from ten thousand old brothers, the rest are only good for waving flags and boosting morale. With these numbers, I could fight across the river, but capturing the south would be impossible. We might end up stalled before fortified cities, trapped with our backs to the water!”

This was the core issue Zhang Shicheng’s faction could never resolve. Though the victory at Gaoyou was his greatest triumph, it also left a psychological shadow—he feared ending up like Chancellor Tuo Tuo, unable to capture a stronghold and ultimately falling apart.

But Zhu Ding cursed, “Old Zhang, you really are confused. The only reason your army is insufficient is because you refuse to cross the river. Do you know Ma Shixiong?”

Having roamed Jianghuai for years, Zhang Shicheng had a roster of heroes. “Of course I know Old Ma, an old friend. I asked him recently if he’d join me—if he came, he’d be the marshal under my command!”

Zhang Shicheng had always coveted Ma Shixiong’s troops, wanting to absorb them. But Zhu Ding brought startling news. “Old Ma went south and joined Liu Yi of Chaohu, even married his daughter to Marshal Liu. Now he’s Liu Yi’s father-in-law, thriving in the south. Do you know why he chose Chaohu over you?”

Zhang Shicheng tasted bitterness as if swallowing gall. “Just because the Chuzhou Red Turbans crossed the river? Is crossing really so advantageous? No wonder there’s been no word from Ma Shixiong. But Ma Shixiong should have joined Zhu Yuanzhang, not Chaohu. Has he lost his mind?”

Zhu Yuanzhang’s name carried weight across Jianghuai, while Liu Yi, the marshal of Chaohu, lacked fame. Zhang Shicheng thought if he were Ma Shixiong, he’d choose Zhu Yuanzhang first. But Zhu Ding laughed. “Exactly. Old Ma originally planned to join Zhu Yuanzhang, and his daughter was to marry him. But Marshal Liu of Chaohu cooked the rice before it was ready!”

Zhang Shicheng felt a sudden lightness. “Turning raw rice into cooked is a good thing. Wait, I remember now—Lady Guo, Liu’s wife, was meant for Zhu Yuanzhang, but ended up with Liu and the Chaohu navy. This happened time and again—can Zhu Yuanzhang really endure it?”

Zhu Ding was suddenly filled with confidence. “Of course he can’t. I’ve come this time as Zhu Yuanzhang’s envoy, to ask you to cross the river and help him deal with Marshal Liu of Chaohu!”