Chapter Twenty-Nine: How Can an Army Like This Fight at All?

Although Gao Wanqing had left, a palpable cloud of sorrow still hung over the Chen household like a shroud.

“This is outrageous!” Liang Zan’s neck veins bulged with fury, his anger almost tangible.

“I’ll go kill that mongrel myself!”

“Killing him would be easy enough,” Chen Ying replied coolly. “But what then?”

“What then?”

“To kill an official is to rebel. We’d be hunted endlessly by the authorities, forced to live like rats, skulking in darkness every day. Is that the life you want?”

The room fell silent; no one could find words to answer.

This ordeal had changed Chen Ying’s outlook. He had once only wished to live a simple life, but now he realized that even this modest goal was far out of reach. The county magistrate was bent on destroying his family, and the prefect was willing to annihilate them completely—these were not empty threats.

As the magistrate of Wannian County, Su Hu dared to frame him openly. If one scheme failed, he would surely try another. Even someone like Chen Ying, who had never held office, could imagine countless methods he might employ.

He had used Princess Pingyang’s name to intimidate Gao Wanqing for the moment, but with Su Hu’s vindictive nature, this would not be the end of it.

No one can guard against thieves forever; the slightest lapse would give Su Hu his chance. Would they be so fortunate next time?

If not for You Ziying’s chance discovery of someone sneaking into their estate, Chen Ying would not have been able to defend himself, no matter how he argued. If Su Hu had pinned the crime of theft on him, even survival would come at a great cost.

To wield iron, one’s own arm must be strong. It was not enough to claim allegiance to powerful patrons. If Chen Ying possessed the rank and power of a marquis, wielding real authority, not even Su Hu, nor perhaps even the emperor, would dare act rashly.

With gloom etched across his face, Chen Ying wandered through the lifeless halls of the Chen household.

Towards noon, a hearty laugh echoed from outside the gates.

Before the man arrived, Ma Sanbao’s laughter had already reached the inner courtyard.

Chen Ying hurried to greet him. At the sight of Ma Sanbao, his troubles seemed to lighten; he composed himself and bowed deeply.

“Brother Ma, forgive me for not welcoming you sooner!”

“Enough with the formalities!” Ma Sanbao said with a grin. “Bring out some fine wine and good food—we won’t leave until we’re drunk!”

“Very well!” Chen Ying nodded to Lan’er. “Tell Aunt He to prepare a feast at once!”

Chen Ying led Ma Sanbao into the front hall of the rear courtyard, where they sat as host and guest. With an air of mystery, Ma Sanbao produced a fine hemp paper and handed it to Chen Ying. Chen Ying unfolded it, puzzled, and his eyes widened in shock.

On it was written a single, concise sentence:

“Hereby, Chen Ying of Wannian County is appointed Captain of the Right Guards of the Eastern Palace, Commander of the Second Merit Garrison, and General of Ningyuan, with the rank of Junior Fifth Class, by imperial decree, the fourth day of the tenth month, first year of Wude, Great Tang.”

Below this were a dense array of signatures, from the officials of the Secretariat to the clerks and vice-ministers of the Ministry of War. Near the bottom, a vivid red seal was stamped. Although Chen Ying had been in this era for only a month and was still learning the common script, the elaborate seal script was challenging. After a long study, he could only just make out the inscription: “Seal of Appointment, Ministry of War.”

“What is the meaning of this?” Chen Ying asked, bewildered.

“Originally, brother Chen was to be appointed as General of Ningwu in Taiyuan, Commander of the Folding Spear Garrison,” Ma Sanbao explained. “But Her Highness the Princess presented the wound suturing technique you invented to His Majesty, who rewarded you with the title of Cavalry Commander. Princess Pingyang then recommended you to the Emperor, and you were instead appointed Captain of the Right Guards of the Eastern Palace, Commander of the Second Merit Garrison.”

Suddenly, everything became clear to Chen Ying.

He had organized a militia in Jingyang, which the Crown Prince Li Jiancheng had promptly absorbed, dismissing all the officers Chen Ying had appointed. Li Yuan, suspecting that Chen Ying might bear a grudge against the Crown Prince, installed him as Captain of the Right Guards, effectively placing a spy within the Eastern Palace.

Ma Sanbao continued, “This position doesn’t come with much benefit or real opportunity for military glory. It’s hard to make a name for yourself here. But you’re still young; there’s no need to rush.”

“No need to rush,” Chen Ying agreed.

Had he not just endured Gao Wanqing’s scheme, he would have preferred to remain a commoner rather than board the sinking ship of Li Jiancheng. Once aboard, when Li Shimin launched the Xuanwu Gate Coup, he would be left in the cold—stripped of office, perhaps of his very title.

During their conversation, Chen Ying learned that the Eastern Palace maintained ten units: the Left and Right Guard Commanders, the Left and Right Chariot Commanders, the Left and Right Road-Clearing Commanders, and others, each overseeing three to five military garrisons. Some units, like the Left and Right Gate Guards and the Left and Right Inner Guards, commanded no troops and served as the Crown Prince’s personal guards.

In name, the Crown Prince presided over a miniature court of a hundred civil and military officials and, if all ten units were at full strength, could command twenty-one garrisons totaling twenty-three thousand soldiers. In reality, the Eastern Palace was little more than an empty shell—officers without troops.

Xue Wanche, titled General of Ningyuan, had accepted a real post as Commander of Zhechong Garrison in Jingzhou because even with all its officers, the Right Guards had only two hundred men.

Ma Sanbao added, “Besides you, brother Zhang and brother You have also received appointments.”

As he spoke, Ma Sanbao produced three more documents.

Zhang Huaiwei was made Commander of the Left Guard of the Crown Prince, with the rank of Senior Seventh Class, and You Ziying was appointed Deputy Commander of the Anhua Gate in the outer city, with the rank of Junior Seventh Class.

Only Chen Huairen, Zhao Yuanqiao, and Li Chuqiu were left without appointments. Noticing their disappointment, Chen Ying reassured them, “Don’t worry—as long as I have food to eat, none of you will go hungry.”

Chen Huairen replied, “I don’t dare hope for office. I have my skills; tomorrow I’ll look for a shop and open a clinic.”

“No need,” said Chen Ying. “Give me a few days to get acquainted with the Right Guards, and I’ll find places for you there.”

On the fifth day of the tenth month, first year of Wude, Chen Ying took his commission and, accompanied by Liang Zan, set off to take up his post as Captain of the Right Guards of the Eastern Palace.

Officially, the Crown Prince’s Right Guards commanded five garrisons with a force of six thousand. In reality, it too was an empty husk.

The Right Guards included a Deputy Captain, responsible for the Crown Prince’s armory and security; a Chief of Staff for both the Left and Right, each ranked Senior Seventh Class and overseeing administration; a Records Officer for the seal; and staff officers for supplies, arms, armor, and cavalry, all ranked Junior Eighth Class, each responsible for their respective bureaus.

Upon his arrival, Wei Wenzhong, Deputy Captain of the Second Merit Garrison, gave Chen Ying a brief overview. The Second Merit Garrison, at full strength, comprised four battalions of three hundred men each: the First Merit, Second Merit, Light Cavalry, and Archers.

Take the Light Cavalry battalion, for example—by regulation, it should have three hundred troopers and six hundred warhorses. In reality, there were only eighty-nine horses and fifty-six men.

Of these fifty-six, only seven were real soldiers: one deputy commander, three lieutenants, three assistant lieutenants, six squad leaders, six assistant squad leaders, and thirty corporals.

“Damn,” Chen Ying could not help but curse inwardly.

No wonder that, by the ninth year of Wude, Li Shimin shattered Li Jiancheng’s forces. With troops like these, how could they hope to win a battle?