Chapter 324: The Capital Is Shaken
Shaanxi Regional Commander Wang Cheng'en was born into an old and reputable family. His ancestor Wang You had ridden with Emperor Zhu Di during the Jingnan Campaign and earned the title of Marquis of Qingyuan. At eighteen, Wang Cheng'en inherited the hereditary post of Assistant Commander of the Xining Guard and spent his youth grinding away on the frontier, skirmishing year after year with nomadic raiders.
He never pulled off anything legendary.
He also never made a serious mistake.
In an age where both were rare, that alone made him exceptional.
Compared to the Yan Sui commander Wu Zimian—a walking disaster with an official seal—Wang Cheng'en might as well have been carved from a different dynasty.
After Yang He took office as Governor-General of the Three Borders and needed the peasant uprisings crushed quickly, he pulled Wang Cheng'en off the frontier and appointed him Shaanxi Regional Commander, ordering him to coordinate with Provincial Governor Liu Guangsheng and clean up the roving bandits infesting the province.
Wang Cheng'en delivered.
A few months earlier, he smashed the Heyang bandit leader Fan Shanyue, beat him so thoroughly that Fan Shanyue accepted pacification without complaint, and thus created the whole mess now politely referred to as the "returned-to-home former bandits."
When Li Daoxuan noticed Wang Cheng'en arriving at the county seat, he paid closer attention than usual.
So far—so good.
This commander at least knew how to behave. Unlike the roaming commander Li Ying, who treated civilians as optional loot boxes, Wang Cheng'en kept his troops on a short leash. They camped outside the city walls and did not wander into town to "supplement rations."
Seeing several paved roads radiating outward from Chengcheng County, Wang Cheng'en frowned to himself.
A disaster year, and they were building roads?
Interesting.
While he was still chewing on that question, County Magistrate Liang Shixian came out to greet him. After exchanging the usual ceremonial nonsense—long on politeness, short on meaning—they got to the point.
"May I ask," Liang Shixian said carefully, "what brings General Wang to this humble county?"
Wang Cheng'en sighed. "We're only passing through. It's getting late, the men are exhausted. We'll camp outside the city for the night and move at dawn."
"To the east?" Liang asked.
Wang Cheng'en's expression darkened. "Heyang County. That Fan Shanyue is asking to be disciplined again."
That set Liang Shixian on edge. "What happened?"
"You know the story," Wang Cheng'en said. "A few months back, I beat Fan Shanyue into accepting pacification. The Governor-General gave him the post of Heyang Garrison Commander to keep him steady."
Liang nodded. "Yes. When he disbanded his men, those returned bandits caused this county… some trouble."
From above, Li Daoxuan snorted.
'Some trouble' is generous.
Switching viewpoints nonstop, APM nearly hitting three hundred, deploying the Hand of Thanos more than once—Gao Family Village Militia, reformed convicts, Bai Yuan's civilian corps—all hands on deck just to hammer those "returned bandits" into something resembling law-abiding humans.
Wang Cheng'en continued, "Fan Shanyue behaved for a few months. Then he remembered he was a bandit. He let his men extort gentry and loot civilians—same style as that roaming commander Li Ying. The Heyang magistrate reported it to Xi'an. The Provincial Governor was furious."
Li Daoxuan raised an eyebrow in midair.
So you know Li Ying acts like a bandit too? Good to hear.
Liang Shixian didn't bother hiding it. "Li Ying is a disgrace to the Great Ming—an official who behaves like a thief. And Wu Zimian? Even rumors of selling military grain and horses have reached my desk. Fan Shanyue learning from them is hardly surprising. Trash like this should be dealt with quickly."
Wang Cheng'en exhaled. "Exactly. The Governor has ordered me to arrest Fan Shanyue and escort him back to Xi'an for judgment."
"Ha."
Li Daoxuan clicked his tongue.
Li Ying, Wu Zimian, Fan Shanyue—same behavior, same rot.
Yet only one was being hauled back to Xi'an.
It had nothing to do with what they did.
It had everything to do with who stood behind them.
Li Ying had backing. Wu Zimian had backing.
They could rot the system freely.
Fan Shanyue was a pacified bandit with no umbrella overhead. The moment he copied official corruption, he became disposable.
Ha.
Ha.
Ha.
Li Daoxuan wanted to curse.
Liang Shixian sighed. "Then I can only wish General Wang swift success."
Wang Cheng'en nodded, accepted the courtesy, and returned to his camp with his personal retainers—still without setting foot inside the city.
Watching him, Li Daoxuan felt an unexpected flicker of approval.
Disciplined troops.
Neutral conduct.
No civilian harassment.
In the late Ming, that already bordered on mythical.
His gaze drifted over the camp. The soldiers ate poorly—dry cakes barely enough to fill the stomach, chased down with cold water.
It was bleak.
Yet even that hungry, they refrained from extorting the wealthy households of Chengcheng County.
That restraint mattered.
"Fine," Li Daoxuan decided. "Let's feed them."
He had hosted all kinds of strange festivals for Gao Family Village—the Dao Xuan Tianzun Whim Festival, the Dao Xuan Tianzun Hotpot Festival. After Zao Ying finished the Eight Great Bowls, the leftovers became the Dao Xuan Tianzun Eight Bowls Festival for the villagers.
But the county's ten thousand residents had never enjoyed one.
This seemed like the right moment.
He shifted his focus back to Liang Shixian, printed a sheet of paper, and set it on the magistrate's desk.
"Half an hour from now," it read, "good food will be provided for the entire county. Gather laborers. After distribution, send some to Wang Cheng'en's camp as well."
Liang Shixian immediately bowed to the empty air. "The Dao Xuan Tianzun is benevolent!"
Li Daoxuan pulled out his phone and opened a delivery app.
Having just moved to the Zhaomu Mountain villa district, he wasn't familiar with nearby options. A quick search turned up Tujia Smoked Pork Potato Rice.
Rice mixed with potato chunks and diced smoked pork—simple, fragrant, filling.
Potatoes weren't widespread yet in the late Ming. Most people in the northwest had never seen them.
Perfect. Let this be a tasting event. If they liked it, they'd plant it later.
Order placed.
Half an hour later, the food arrived.
Li Daoxuan scooped out a massive serving with a rice ladle and set it down in the county square. Liang Shixian's prepared laborers swarmed in, chopping the oversized grains, potatoes, and pork into smaller portions, mixing them again, and distributing bowls throughout the city.
And for one night, Chengcheng County ate well.
Wang Cheng'en was an interesting man.
He fought everywhere—against Mongols, rebel armies, and later the Qing. He remained on the front lines until the end, eventually rising to Grand Guardian of the Crown Prince and Left Chief Commander. In Chongzhen Year Seventeen, answering the emperor's call to defend the capital, he died amid chaotic fighting at fifty-seven.
And yet—
the Qing never smeared him.
Everyone knew the Qing-era histories blackened Ming emperors and officials alike. Why not Wang Cheng'en?
Perhaps because there was nothing to blacken.
Trivia
Pacified bandits were often given official posts not as rewards, but as containment devices. It worked only as long as supervision did.
Potatoes would later save countless lives in northern China, precisely because they thrived where grain failed. History's quiet heroes rarely arrive with banners.
In late Ming armies, not looting civilians while underfed was considered exceptional discipline—an uncomfortable standard that says more about the era than the men.