Yang Sichang's own father, Yang He, was at this very moment exiled to Yuanzhou.
That exile was the bitter price paid for one thing: appeasement.
Back then, Yang He had chosen to placate wandering rebel groups rather than crush them outright. The result was not gratitude, but accusations, impeachment, and exile. That lesson was carved deep into Yang Sichang's bones.
Because of this, he would never be easily persuaded.
In his mind, there was only one correct response to rebellion: continued and uncompromising military suppression.
"Report!"
An aide burst into the hall, breathless.
"Governor-General, urgent news. General Zhang led his troops to suppress a rebel force in the mountains. They encountered a sudden landslide. Losses were severe, and General Zhang himself has been injured."
Yang Sichang let out a heavy grunt.
"Send reinforcements immediately," he ordered. "Bring General Zhang back safely, and ensure the wounded are properly treated."
The aide acknowledged the command and withdrew.
Before Yang Sichang could even finish sorting the paperwork on his desk, the aide rushed back in again.
"Report. General Li encountered fierce resistance from two thousand rebels at Sunjiayao. Although he secured a victory, over fifty soldiers were killed. He requests funds to handle the funerals."
Yang Sichang waved his hand impatiently.
"Approved."
The aide bowed and retreated, only to return yet again, his expression increasingly stiff.
"Report. General Chen was ambushed by rebels at Siyuanliang. The rebels rolled massive chunks of iron ore down from the mountains. General Chen was injured, along with many of his men."
Yang Sichang slammed his palm against the table.
"A dignified border army, ambushed by a mere band of rebels?" he barked. "What kind of warfare have they been taught?"
The aide hesitated, then answered awkwardly.
"The terrain in the mountains is extremely treacherous, sir. Our border troops are unfamiliar with it. Only the miners who have lived there for many years truly understand the paths and slopes."
Yang Sichang's brows drew together tightly.
Before he could respond, another report arrived.
"Report. Rebels whose homes and livelihoods were destroyed by the Manchu invasion have also risen up. They have gathered more than five thousand strong at Huoshiling."
Yang Sichang's patience finally snapped.
"Send General Qian," he roared. "Have him deal with them at once."
The aide bowed deeply and turned to leave, but paused, then added carefully, "Report. Our forces are stretched extremely thin. Supplies are being consumed at an alarming rate. Arrow reserves are running low. We have provisions for barely half a month, and enough arrows for only two more engagements. We must await resupply."
Yang Sichang leaned back in his chair.
His temples throbbed.
Listening to these endless reports, he felt a profound sense of confusion and exhaustion wash over him.
There was an old saying: those who do not hold the office do not worry about its burdens.
Before taking this post, he had never truly understood how difficult the word "suppression" was. Only now, sitting in this seat, did he finally grasp the weight his father had once carried.
At that moment, another shout echoed outside.
"Report!"
The aide rushed in again.
Before he could open his mouth, Yang Sichang exploded.
"What is it now? Reports, reports, reports. Is that all I do every day?"
The aide flinched, but still delivered the message.
"The Jin merchant, Tie Niaofei, has arrived. He has brought a large shipment of supplies."
Yang Sichang froze.
Then his face lit up instantly.
"Squire Tie has arrived?" he exclaimed, laughing loudly. "Excellent. Truly excellent. Bring him in at once."
Moments later, Tie Niaofei entered the hall.
At the sight of him, Yang Sichang's expression softened considerably.
Although he had only recently assumed the post of Supreme Commander of Xuan-Da, he was already tormented by supply shortages. The imperial court was perpetually bogged down by bureaucracy and infighting. Support for the border army was always slow and insufficient.
Sometimes there was no grain. Sometimes there was no pay.
They expected horses to run without feeding them grass.
Yang Sichang worried about provisions day and night.
Fortunately, there was Tie Niaofei.
Tie Niaofei had become the true lifeline of the Xuan-Da border army. Each time he traveled north, he brought massive quantities of grain, cloth, and weapons. Whenever hunger gnawed at the soldiers, they would climb the city walls, gaze southward, and mutter prayers.
"Squire Tie, please arrive soon."
This time was no different.
As soon as Tie Niaofei stepped into the hall, he clasped his hands and laughed.
"Governor-General, I trust you have been well. I am pleased to report that I did not fail in my task. I have brought another two months' worth of military provisions."
Yang Sichang was overjoyed.
"You could not have arrived at a better time, Master Tie," he said sincerely. "Our rations had dwindled to barely half a month."
Tie Niaofei put on a puzzled expression.
"Only half a month?" he asked. "That is strange. The grain I delivered last time was quite substantial. It should have lasted at least another month and a half."
Yang Sichang coughed lightly, a trace of embarrassment flickering across his face.
"Ahem. Recently, I have been vigorously suppressing rebels. The army has been in constant motion, fighting across mountains and forests. Naturally, provisions are consumed much faster than usual."
"Oh, so that is the case," Tie Niaofei said thoughtfully. "On my way here, I passed through Daizhou and heard some discussion about this. It seems that after the Manchu invasion, the number of rebels in Datong Prefecture has suddenly increased. Many of them are common folk whose homes were destroyed, and some are even private mine owners. The people of Daizhou also said these rebels crossed the mountains and caused disturbances there."
Yang Sichang nodded heavily.
"Indeed. These unruly elements are stirring chaos everywhere. Uprisings keep erupting throughout Datong Prefecture, leaving the border army constantly on the run."
He paused, then asked, "Squire Tie, you must have passed through Daizhou yourself. Was your journey obstructed by rebels?"
Tie Niaofei laughed inwardly, but outwardly maintained a look of mild confusion.
"That is the strange part," he replied. "Although I heard people mention rebel activity, I did not encounter any myself. And when the locals spoke of these rebels, their tone was surprisingly relaxed. Some were even smiling. Clearly, these so-called rebels have not troubled them much and pose no real threat."
Yang Sichang murmured softly, "Oh?"
The words struck deep.
A surge of irritation rose in his chest.
He commanded a powerful border army. The border army. Yet even with such forces, he was being worn down, endlessly chasing rebels through mountains and valleys. Meanwhile, a newly appointed prefect in Daizhou, lacking a real army and relying only on household retainers and local militia, had somehow managed to keep things calm?
"Appeasement…"
Yang Sichang recalled a letter he had received earlier.
In that letter, the Prefect of Daizhou claimed he had resolved Hu Teng's rebel group through appeasement and had even absorbed several other groups.
At the time, Yang Sichang had written back firmly, insisting that appeasement was useless and that these rebels would inevitably rise again.
But now, so much time had passed.
Had those rebels truly caused no further trouble?
The thought made Yang Sichang restless.
He reviewed the reports piled before him. Endless pursuits, constant losses, miserable results. And yet, in Daizhou, where rebels driven out by his own campaigns had gone, the situation had been handled cleanly.
Comparison was truly the thief of contentment.
"I am the Supreme Commander," he thought bitterly. "A jinshi of the thirty-eighth year of Wanli. I have served as Professor of Hangzhou Prefecture, Erudite of the Nanjing Imperial Academy, Director in the Ministry of Revenue, Vice Commissioner for Military Preparedness, and Vice Minister of War, concurrently serving as Censor-in-Chief overseeing military affairs in Xuan-Da and Shanxi. How can I be inferior to a mere, obscure prefect?"
Unable to endure the irritation any longer, Yang Sichang rose abruptly.
"Someone," he commanded. "Prepare my carriage and horses. I will go to Daizhou and see for myself."
According to ancient law, officials were forbidden from leaving their jurisdiction without permission. Violators faced a hundred lashes.
However, Yang Sichang's authority was exceptional.
As Supreme Commander of Xuan-Da, he not only governed Xuan-Da but also concurrently oversaw military affairs in Shanxi. In theory, all of Shanxi lay within his jurisdiction. Traveling to Daizhou was entirely permissible.
Watching this unfold, Tie Niaofei could not help but gloat inwardly.
"Governor-General," he said aloud, "if you would permit me a moment, I need to hand over these supplies before heading south. I would be honored to accompany you for part of the journey."
Yang Sichang nodded decisively.
"Very well. We shall travel together. Let us go and see exactly how things are being handled in Daizhou."