Chapter Seventy-Seven: Gaoyou

When Fang Guozhen mentioned Liu Ji’s name, both Fang Guozhang and Fang Mingshan felt a subtle headache coming on. Though Liu Ji was currently only a "former official of the Jiangzhe Provincial Administration," wandering among the mountains and rivers of Shaoxing for more than two years, and his highest position in the Yuan Dynasty had been a mere seventh-ranked provincial officer, this pale-faced scholar had once left the Fang clan in utter disarray.

Liu Ji hailed from Qingtian in Chuzhou and was a scholar of the imperial examinations. If the provincial administration reinstated Liu Ji, Fang Guozhen would have no trouble sweeping through the coastal regions of the Three Shao, but penetrating inland would not be so easy. Fang Mingshan, anxious, exclaimed, "If the administration intends to bring Liu Ji back, why don’t we strike first and eliminate him!"

Fang Guozhen, however, responded with utmost composure, "We are all imperial officials now. No more constant fighting and killing. Matters of the court should be resolved in the manner of the court. I have my ways to deal with Liu Ji. Not only him—even Zhu Yuanzhang and Liu Yi, those Red Turban rebels, must be handled with courtly methods."

Fang Mingshan was surprised that Fang Guozhen was considering issues from thousands of miles away. "The Red Turbans of Chuzhou are now trapped beneath the city walls, unable to advance or retreat. Even if they manage to seize Jiqing Circuit, it would be only a small portion of Jiangdong. As long as we take Zhejiang East, our strength is no less than theirs. Why should we submit to them? I think it should be they who submit to us."

Fang Guozhen replied earnestly, "If a man does not think far ahead, he will soon have worries near at hand. I have sparred with the provincial administration and the imperial commission for years and finally grasped their boundaries and tactics. But the Red Turbans of Chuzhou are different. These river bandits are desperate men; they don’t play by the rules. We must deal with them carefully. Sometimes, we must offer them a sweetener when the moment calls for it."

Coming from a pirate background, Fang Guozhen was adept at handling bureaucrats nurtured within the system, but his usual strategies were ineffective against the Red Turbans, who were fellow outlaws. "The biggest problem now is that the Red Turbans in Chuzhou have two leaders standing side by side. Which one should we try to win over—Zhu Yuanzhang or Liu Yi?"

Fang Mingshan replied without hesitation, "It must be Zhu Yuanzhang, the Grand Marshal of Chuzhou. He commands the largest force and has the most victories. He’s the leader of the Red Turbans. If we ally with him, we won’t suffer losses!"

Fang Guozhang, as Fang Guozhen’s elder brother, spoke with the wisdom of age. "Ordinarily, Zhu Yuanzhang would be the optimal choice. But Marshal Liu of Chaohu is no minor figure—his influence in recent months rivals that of Zhu Yuanzhang. Moreover, all the naval units of the Red Turbans are under Liu Yi’s command. If we wish to enter the Yangtze deeply, we’ll need to cooperate with Marshal Liu."

Fang Guozhen nodded. "This matter is crucial and must not be taken lightly. If cooperation is worthwhile, even submitting to them is no shame… Of course, that is only if they manage to seize Jiqing Circuit. If they fail, they remain nothing but river bandits."

Zhu Yuanzhang or Liu Yi? Fang Guozhen knew this would be a difficult choice.

Gaoyou City.

Much like Chuzhou, the city now displayed a kind of unhealthy prosperity. People bustled about, carts and carriages crowded the streets, and more than a dozen envoys had taken up residence in Gaoyou, each trying to win over the city's master.

No matter whether it was the Han-Song regime of Anfeng Circuit, the Jiangnan Imperial Commission of Jiqing Circuit, the Secretariat of Yangzhou, the Jiangzhe Provincial Administration of Hangzhou, Fang Guozhen of Taizhou, or the Red Turbans of Chuzhou—anyone entering Gaoyou City had to lower their posture, dare not take a single extra step or utter a single superfluous word, trying every possible means to woo Zhang Shicheng.

Zhang Shicheng was a man who knew how to indulge himself. Though he resided in the north of the Yangtze, his comforts were indistinguishable from those of the south. Whether new tea from Hangzhou, paper umbrellas from Pingjiang, fresh cloth from Songjiang, or slender beauties from Yangzhou, he used only the finest, often luxuries beyond the reach of ordinary people. From his chambers, the view was that of southern gardens and southern landscapes.

Every scene within the Prince Zhou’s mansion was backed by mountains of gold and silver. Each day’s operation consumed at least dozens of silver ingots; should Zhang Shicheng be in good spirits, spending several hundred ingots in a single day was not uncommon.

Now, Zhang Shicheng no longer resembled a salt smuggler of humble origins but rather a wealthy rural landlord of Jiangnan, free from want. Dressed in a loose silk robe, he sipped the season’s new Dragon Well tea and inhaled its fragrance before speaking, "Brother Zhu, I have already received imperial amnesty and become a loyal subject of the Yuan. I can only tell you—I’m sorry."

It sounded like a joke. Although the world now had four factions of anti-Yuan rebels, Zhang Shicheng was largely responsible for the collapse of the Yuan’s situation.

In the fourteenth year of Zhizheng, the Yuan court gathered the realm’s elite to create a brief revival. The Red Turbans of Xu Shouhui and Liu Futong suffered serious setbacks, forced to abandon their bases and flee about. Guo Zixing and Zhu Yuanzhang even called themselves “good citizens” and prepared to accept amnesty. Yet Zhang Shicheng, under Gaoyou’s walls, performed the miracle of defeating four hundred thousand Yuan troops, ending the fleeting revival entirely.

The tens of thousands of elite troops the Yuan court had painstakingly assembled suffered catastrophic defeat beneath Gaoyou’s walls. From then on, the situation deteriorated irreversibly. Yet Zhang Shicheng, the chief instigator, now claimed the title of "loyal subject of the Yuan."

What was even more ironic, Zhang Shicheng, though granted amnesty and made an official of the Yuan, still operated under the name "Prince Zhou," with his regime called "Great Zhou," and in Gaoyou City the era name remained "Heavenly Protection." How could such a man be a loyal subject of the Yuan?

Others might think Zhang Shicheng’s words carried hidden meaning, but Zhu Ying, an old companion who once smuggled salt with him, knew exactly what Zhang Shicheng was thinking. "Old Zhang, you’ve been granted amnesty and made an official—it’s a good thing. I shouldn’t drag you into this, but my life and family are in jeopardy. I must ask for your help. You can’t let an old friend die without a resting place!"

Liu Futong, Zuo Junbi, and the Chuzhou leaders had all sent envoys to woo Zhang Shicheng, hoping Fang Guozhen would lead his army across the Yangtze and march south. Gaoyou City lay not far from the great river, yet Zhang Shicheng was unusually resolute in refusing them, citing his acceptance of imperial amnesty. "Brother Zhu, you’re putting me in a difficult spot. It’s only been a few months since I accepted amnesty, and now you want me to raise the banner and cross the river again? If I do that, nobody will ever believe in Zhang Shicheng again!"