Chapter 143 Forming the Local Militia

Zhen Qian naturally could not know what had happened to the Wuluohu Tribe of the Southern Shiwei thousands of miles away. The commercial caravan's journey to the Southern Shiwei Wuluohu Tribe was not a whim. The location of the Wuluohu Tribe was roughly to the northwest of Qiqihar and Ulanhot. The reason for running to such a desolate and godforsaken place as the Southern Shiwei was entirely due to the abundance of underground mineral deposits and the remote geographical location far from the reach of the imperial court.

Originally, Zhen Qian knew nothing about the Wuluohu Tribe. Even the name Shiwei, if not for its intertwining connections with the later Mongol Empire, probably would not have been remembered by Zhen Qian.

The underground of the Wuluohu Tribe harbored rich mineral resources. In his past life, Zhen Qian had surveyed this very region. Gold, copper, iron, lead, zinc, petroleum, and natural gas reserves were exceptionally abundant. The investment company had poured tens of millions in startup capital into the mining here, so he naturally remembered the conditions of this place crystal clear.

Of course, this was also a crucial link in Zhen Qian's plan to escape the An Lushan Rebellion. Unlike the Shiwei, Khitans, and the Balhae Kingdom—where the Balhae Kingdom did not completely decline until the late Tang dynasty, and the Khitans had already entered an upward trajectory, with the An Lushan Rebellion bringing a large number of Central Plains refugees and culture to the Khitans, propelling them from a tribal society into a feudal society—such two powerful tribes were not forces Zhen Qian could provoke at present.

The Shiwei were different. They would only gradually develop later after the Jurchens moved south and left the northern region empty. A nation still in a primitive tribal state was naturally the best feast in Zhen Qian's eyes.

Viewing the northern grasslands with the perspective of a later era, that was not the barren wasteland the ancients imagined, but a land possessing extremely rich natural resources. As long as one could overcome the harsh northern cold, they could forge one pearl of the frontier after another. Heavy industry in later generations rose entirely in the north; how could Zhen Qian turn a blind eye to the north?

While the ancients cast it aside like worn-out shoes, Zhen Qian focused his priorities on the north. If he could establish a firm foothold in the north, what would it matter even if the Central Plains had no place for him? Vast stretches of the Siberian Plain would be his space for development, the descendants of the Zhen family would be the masters of this land, and a millennium later, there would no longer be invasions by northern steppe nomads, while the Chinese nation would rest and recuperate on this land...

The northern grasslands boasted numerous tribes and a complex, intricate situation. Zhen Qian did not have an overarching plan for his next steps, nor could he possibly have a flawless plan. Even if he did, it would be sheer nonsense and self-deception. What needed to be done now was to plant a foot in the north, await the right opportunity for gradual development, and exploit the contradictions among tribes to lay the groundwork for long-term control of the steppe.

When he subsequently learned of the events that had transpired in the Wuluohu Tribe, it indeed gave Zhen Qian a great shock. It disrupted his deployments in the north, forcing him to transfer a portion of his craftsmen to the Wuluohu Tribe ahead of schedule, while lowering his posture to compromise and get along with neighboring tribes, thus buying precious time for development to consolidate the Wuluohu Tribe.

Never put all your eggs in one basket—this was true in past investments, and it was just as true when plotting the future!

The northern grasslands and the eastern islands were two focal points for development. As for managing Chang'an, Yangzhou, and Bashu, those were merely Zhen Qian's backup plans. To survive and develop under a feudal autocracy, acting as an obedient citizen would ultimately lead to a dead end.

An Lushan's sudden appearance in Luoquan County completely disrupted Zhen Qian's plans. Fortunately, Li Cui had helped him shield against the disaster, but what should his next move be facing An Lushan's step-by-step pressing approach, and where should he go?

Go to Wakoku with Fujiwara Shusao!

As long as An Lushan launched his rebellion, he would have no time to spare for a small person like himself. By then, with the realm plunged into chaos, it would be the perfect time for him to return to the Tang dynasty and fish in troubled waters...

This was already the best method Zhen Qian could think of. Of course, he could also flee to other places, such as Chang'an or Yangzhou, but the problem was that uncertain variables still remained and would not vanish with his departure. When An Lushan raised his troops, would he have to flee again to Bashu or the south? Or run straight to the north and hide in the Wuluohu Tribe...? None of these seemed like the best solution.

Zhen Qian was currently extremely conflicted, suddenly discovering that despite the vastness of the world, there was no place for him to settle down—a realization that could only be described as a helplessness!

Perhaps this was the sorrow of knowing the trajectory of history, living every day in trepidation. Only by distancing oneself from imperial power could one truly master their own destiny. As for wanting to replace the Great Tang, that was completely unrealistic. Setting aside whether the people of Tang would support him, conquering the realm was hardly an easy task. How many among the ultimate victors were there? Countless individuals fell halfway along the path to ambition and power, leaving behind only a sigh and white bones.

Zhen Qian had no grand ambition to contend for hegemony over the realm; he merely wanted to live a peaceful and safe life as a wealthy man. He had thought this way in the past, he thought this way now, and it would never change in the future. The only thing changing was this history itself.

Zhen Qian lay in the embrace of gentle warmth, with little Xiao He pressed tightly against his chest like a cat, murmuring words of yearning for a sweet future...

Do not look at Xiao He; despite her young age, having been sold to the Yanchun House since childhood and serving as a maid to the top courtesan in the pleasure quarters for several years, she had not learned much in the way of zither, chess, calligraphy, painting, singing, or dancing. However, through constant exposure, she was already adept at social graces and matters of the boudoir between men and women, serving Zhen Qian so comfortably that he forgot to return home.

The rooster had crowed three times. Yesterday's frenzy had drained his entire body of strength, and the bed still retained an intoxicating lingering fragrance. His arm cradled her petite frame, and her delicate skin was as smooth as silk. He stretched lazily, leaving a red mark on Xiao He's bare shoulder, and said, "Time to get up!"

Zhen Qian, who usually did not wake up until the sun was high in the sky, rarely got up early today. Today was the first day of the establishment of the Luoquan County militia. Compared to the county office's perfunctory and slack attitude, the local gentry and powerful families, upon hearing that Luoquan County was going to form a militia, showed a passion akin to the mid-summer sun. Not only did they contribute manpower and resources, but they also stated that if the county office faced difficulties, they would gladly pay out of their own pockets for a portion of the militia's weapons and equipment, absolutely ensuring the county office would not be put in a difficult position.

Such an enthusiastic scene was not strange at all; when it all boiled down to it, it was about interests.

The powerful gentry and local squires all kept guards to protect their compounds, but these men were different from a militia. Even if a family raised a hundred guards, they could not parade them through the streets to show off—if something went wrong and they were slapped with the charge of rebellion, who wouldn't be terrified?

The news of Luoquan County organizing a militia spread, and those powerful gentry smelled the scent like dogs. Each and every one of them possessed vast estates and great wealth; if they let others take the lead in this matter, they wouldn't even get to drink the broth. Swarming to the residence of County Commandant Zhang, they curried favor and inquired about the news, carrying cartloads of gifts into Commandant Zhang's courtyard as if they were delivering Chinese cabbages.

Zhen Qian had been designated by Li Cui as the Deputy Commander of the Luoquan County Militia, and Commandant Zhang naturally served as the Principal Commander. As for the exact number of men in the militia, Li Cui had not specified. Feng Wannian and Commandant Zhang put their heads together in private and finalized a scale of one battalion consisting of five hundred men.

Military units in the Tang dynasty used the battalion as their basic unit (sometimes also referred to as a regiment), commanded by a Captain (Xiaowei), with subordinate platoon (Dui) levels, each led by a Principal and Deputy Platoon Leader. Below the platoon was the squad (Huo), led by a Single Squad Leader, with each battalion comprising five platoons, each platoon having three squads, and each squad commanding five corporal leaders (Shizhang), each leading ten privates. Each squad had fifty-five privates, each platoon had one hundred sixty-five men, and each battalion thus amounted to four hundred ninety-five men.

No matter how enthusiastic the powerful gentry of Luoquan County were, Feng Wannian did not dare to create several battalions of militia. A single battalion was already considered the upper limit, with a troop strength equivalent to that of a lower-grade garrison post (Zhechong Fu). Its officers were part of the imperial court's official establishment; it was acceptable for Commandant Zhang and Zhen Qian to hold official status, but what about the others?

Just yesterday, Feng Wannian invited Zhen Qian to the county office, beginning with a flurry of flattery, followed by Commandant Zhang pouring out endless grievances. He painted a soul-stirring picture of Luoquan County's impoverished financial straits, which boiled down to one sentence: the county had no money, but the establishment called for five hundred men, so Zhen Qian had to figure something out himself!

That Luoquan County had no money was something Zhen Qian would never believe even if beaten to death, but what could he do if he didn't believe it?

Five hundred militiamen were not a problem, but the weapons and equipment for five hundred men were no small sum; it would take at least tens of thousands of strings of cash. Did they expect Zhen Qian to pay out of his own pocket? Naturally, Zhen Qian was not foolish enough to jump into that trap.

Commandant Zhang then shifted the topic, presenting the county's proposal: let the powerful gentry and squires of Luoquan County make pledged donations, gaining benefits proportional to the money they contributed. In short, Luoquan County did not want to shell out a single copper coin, yet the militia was expected to take on the responsibility for public security and defense in Luoquan County. As for whether Zhen Qian agreed and how much money he was willing to shell out, that was no longer the county office's concern.