Huangming

Chapter 320 The Hidden Struggles of the Eight Banners, the Flames of War in Shandong

The news that Huang Taiji had been summoned privately by Nurhaci spread like wildfire throughout the camp.

The officers around the campfire whispered among themselves, their eyes filled with curiosity.

This is clearly a signal that the Khan favors the Fourth Prince.

Was the struggle for the Khan's throne already settled from the very beginning?

now.

Inside Daishan's tent, the candlelight cast a dim yellow glow, reflecting the gloom on his face.

He sat alone at the low table, chugging bowl after bowl of liquor. The spicy liquid slid down his throat, but it couldn't suppress the anxiety in his heart.

The wine jars on the table were mostly empty, but his resentment only grew stronger.

He was originally Nurhaci's handpicked crown prince, holding military power over two Red Banners, and was only one step away from the Khanate.

But now, the Khan's gaze is clearly leaning towards Huang Taiji. Is it really true that the Khan's throne is out of my reach?
Not reconciled!
He slammed the wine bowl down on the table, and the celadon bowl shattered with a crash, spilling wine onto a secret letter on the desk.

It was sent by Mangultai; the handwriting was messy but conveyed a fierce edge.

The letter stated that Huang Taiji was cunning and scheming, and that if he were to succeed to the throne, his brothers would be purged sooner or later.

Why not join forces and wait until after the father Khan's death to eliminate Huang Taiji first, and let Daišan ascend to the throne? Mangultai is willing to stand alongside Daišan as "two Great Khans" and jointly rule the Great Jin.

"Two big sweaters?"

Dai Shan scoffed.

Mangultai was a reckless man, and these words were mostly just empty talk, but the words "join forces to deal with Huang Taiji" were like a hook scratching at his heart.

Although he lost his position as crown prince, he still holds two red flags in his hands. If he can really use this opportunity to turn things around...

Just then, the tent flap was lifted, and Aisin-Gioro Sahalian walked in.

He was Daishan's second son, and had just returned from Huang Taiji's tent, his face showing a hint of solemnity.

"Ama."

Sahalian bowed, his gaze sweeping over the broken bowl and secret letter on the table, his brow furrowing slightly.

"What did Huang Taiji say?"

Dai Shan suppressed his emotions and asked in a deep voice.

He sent Saharan over, ostensibly to pay his respects, but in reality to test Huang Taiji's attitude.

Although Daishan had lost all hope of vying for the throne, the troops of the two Red Banners were not just for show. If Huang Taiji wanted to secure his position as Khan, he would have to show some sincerity.

Sahalian replied carefully, "Eighth Uncle... Huang Taiji was quite polite in his words, saying that Father holds two red flags and is the pillar of the Great Jin, and will surely be relied upon in the future. However, when it came to the specific enfeoffment, he did not mention a word, only saying that everything depends on Father Khan's decree."

"Hmph, slippery!"

Dai Shan slammed his hand on the table.

"Trying to get something for nothing? He doesn't even deserve it!"

The two red banners in his hands were the direct descendants who followed Nurhaci in conquering the world. They were strong and well-equipped, and were one of the most elite forces of the Jin Dynasty.

If Huang Taiji wants to succeed to the throne smoothly, he will have to rely on his influence.

But now they haven't even given him a straight answer, clearly showing they don't take him seriously.

"I think it's best to cooperate with Mangultai."

Daishan downed the remaining wine in his cup in one gulp, his tone revealing his dissatisfaction with Huang Taiji.

"While we can't completely trust what that brute says, at least the 'Two Khans' are standing side by side. It's better than being a lackey of Huang Taiji in the future, having to act according to his whims!"

Sahalian spoke softly at this moment, his voice low, yet like a pebble thrown into Daishan's heart:

“Father, although Uncle Eight (Huang Taiji) did not explicitly say what benefits he would give us, he revealed that he plans to implement the ‘Eight Banners Council’ system. From now on, the military and national affairs of the Great Jin will no longer be decided by the Great Khan alone, but will be decided by the banner chiefs of the Eight Banners.”

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Daishan's suddenly tense face, and added, "Moreover, Uncle Ba said that he intends to let my son succeed him as the banner chief of the Zhenglan Banner in the future."

"what?!"

Dai Shan suddenly looked up, his eyes flashing with an astonishing light.

Eight Banners Council?

Should Sahalian be made the banner chief of the Plain Blue Banner?

This is much more real than Mangultai's vague "Double Khan" title!
The current banner chief of the Zhenglan Banner is Mangultai. Huang Taiji's words are tantamount to telling Daishan to take action to eliminate Mangultai.

He used his son's position as banner leader as bait to force him to choose sides.

What a profound calculation!
Dai Shan cursed inwardly, but could not hide his excitement.

If the Eight Banners could truly be put into power, the Khan's power would be greatly weakened, given that he held two Red Banners and his son commanded the Plain Blue Banner...

He quickly began to calculate:

Amin of the Bordered Blue Banner had always been on good terms with him and would often agree with him on matters.

In this way, four of the Eight Banners would obey his orders.

At that time, even if Huang Taiji becomes the Great Khan, the court will still have to act according to his wishes.

How is this different from "not a great sweater, but better than a great sweater"?
Compared to Mangultai's flawed "two Khans" agreement, Huang Taiji's "Eight Banners Council" was clearly more to his liking.

Why not save face while firmly grasping power?
"Huang Taiji is... forcing me to help him get rid of Mangultai."

Dai Shan stroked his beard, his tone playful, but the hesitation in his eyes had vanished.

Sahalian said in a low voice, "Uncle Ba is a smart man. He knows that he can't touch Mangultai on his own."

Dai Shan nodded slowly.

Mangultai held the Plain Blue Banner and had always been at odds with Huang Taiji. If anyone wanted to take action against him, they would have to rely on the power of his two Red Banners.

Huang Taiji's move, seemingly a concession, actually bound him firmly to his own side.

"it is good."

Dai Shan slammed his hand on the table, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes.

"Tell Huang Taiji that I have agreed to the matter of the Eight Banners' political council. As for Mangultai..."

He sneered, "Since he's blocking my son's way, there's no point in keeping him around."

...The Jurchen camp was already rife with undercurrents due to Nurhaci's illness.

A power struggle over the new Khan's throne was inevitable.

For the Jurchens, only if this power transition could end with minimal disruption could they barely maintain the survival of their tribe.

After all, the Eight Banners were a force that Nurhaci had single-handedly integrated. If they turned against each other and bloodshed ensued in the struggle for the Khanate, it would only cause this fledgling regime to fall apart.

By then, the Ming Dynasty to the south was eyeing them covetously, and Xiong Tingbi's troops in Liaodong were preparing for war.

The Mongol tribes to the north would not miss the opportunity to strike a fallen enemy; they would seize the chance to tear off the fattest pieces of flesh.

however.

Thousands of miles away in Shandong, a similar storm is brewing.

This land had already suffered a severe drought, leaving it barren and yielding no harvest.

Unfortunately, the war in Liaodong was intensifying, and the government conscripted hundreds of thousands of people to transport grain. Along the long road from Dengzhou to Shanhaiguan, one could see emaciated laborers everywhere.

Logically, the Ministry of Revenue had allocated funds for disaster relief and the wages of laborers, which could have slightly alleviated the people's suffering.

However, the corruption in Shandong's officialdom had long since rotted to the core.

Local officials colluded with grain officials to embezzle funds and grain allocated by the Ministry of Revenue at each level, so that less than one-tenth of the money and grain actually reached the people.

Even the daily meals for the laborers were nothing more than thin porridge so thin you could see your reflection in it, with a few grains of rice bran floating in it occasionally—not even enough to fill their stomachs.

"I can't live this life!"

"The imperial court's money has all been embezzled by corrupt officials!"

The complaints were widespread, like sparks in a pile of dry tinder, ready to ignite into a raging fire with just a little wind.

Meanwhile, the followers of the White Lotus Sect were moving among the laborers and disaster victims, stirring up the despairing hearts with slogans such as "Three Refuges and Five Precepts," "The Three Teachings Respond to the Calamity," "Maitreya Descends to Earth," and "The Three Heavenly Plates."

Within days, the laborers in Yuncheng smashed the grain station, and the disaster victims in Zou County gathered outside the county government office, shouting. Even in Yanzhou Prefecture, cries of "To live, kill the corrupt officials!" were heard.

Signs of popular uprising have spread like wildfire across the land of Qilu.

The Shandong governor was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan. He petitioned the court for help while sending troops to suppress the rebellion. Little did he know that once the momentum of the people's rebellion was established, it would not be suppressed by a few troops.
Among the uprising forces in Yuncheng, one group stood out.

Other groups of refugees were mostly armed with wooden sticks and hoes, dressed in rags like stray dogs, but this group had swords at their waists, which, though not high-quality, were all sharpened and genuine weapons.

What's even more remarkable is that, although they also looked pale and sickly, their eyes revealed a fierce courage unlike that of the refugees. Their marching was even somewhat disciplined, and their spirit was clearly superior.

The leader was a man in his early twenties, burly and with a shallow scar on his face, which added to his fierce appearance.

He was Li Hongji, whose nickname was Huang Lai'er, and everyone around him called him "Huang Hu".

It is said that he was originally a courier at the Yinchuan post station. Last year, the post station was closed down, and he lost his livelihood, so he traveled all the way to Shandong to beg for food.

But no one could explain how he, a down-on-his-luck postman, suddenly managed to raise a team and even seize food and weapons from the government troops.

In just half a month, nearly a thousand refugees surrendered and he became the most powerful rebel leader in the Yuncheng area.

At this moment, Li Hongji was standing in a dilapidated temple, looking at the man in front of him who was wearing a coarse cloth robe and claimed to be Xu Hongru's envoy, his brows furrowed slightly.

"Emperor Fu Lie of the Zhongxing Era?"

He chuckled, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the ring-pommel sword at his waist.

"Xu Hongru has only just declared himself emperor in Zou County, yet he dares to come and try to persuade me, Huang Hu, to surrender?"

The envoy remained calm and bowed, saying, "Please don't be offended, leader. My lord said that you are a remarkable person. If you are willing to submit, you will surely be granted a royal title and share in wealth and honor. Otherwise..."

He abruptly changed the subject, a threatening glint in his eyes.

"Our lord already has tens of thousands of troops under his command, and he controls Zou County and Yanzhou. This small force of yours is unlikely to amount to much."

Li Hongji remained outwardly calm, but inwardly he was sneering.

Xu Hongru, along with Wang Sen and his son Wang Haoxian, had been running the "Fragrance Cult" for over twenty years and had deep roots in the Shandong folk community. This uprising was met with overwhelming support, making them a tough nut to crack.

But Li Hongji came here specifically for the Fragrance Sect.

No one knew that his identity as a "rebel leader" was nothing more than a disguise.

Six months ago, he was working as a courier at the Yinchuan post station, living a muddled and aimless life.

Until several Imperial Guards came to his door, showing their badges, saying they had a "huge task" to assign him.

Infiltrate the Shandong rebels, get close to the core of the Wenxiang Sect, and seize the opportunity to dismantle this cult. If you can kill the leader of the rebels, it will be an immense achievement, and you will be promoted to a high position.

He was immediately tempted.

For a lowly courier, the only way to get ahead in life is to risk his life.

Now that Xu Hongru's envoy has taken the initiative to come to their door, it is the best opportunity to infiltrate their ranks.

Li Hongji deliberately feigned hesitation, rubbing his hands together: "A title of nobility? Is that really true? These thousand or so men under my command are all working for me. If they surrender, they'll get supplies and weapons..."

Seeing that he had relented, the messenger quickly said, "Don't worry, Chief! Our lord said that as long as you surrender, you'll have plenty of food and supplies, and your weapons will be doubled! We'll send a hundred men to deliver them tomorrow!"

"it is good!"

Li Hongji slapped his thigh suddenly, a greedy smile spreading across his face.

“Since Leader Xu is so sincere, I, Huang Hu, will acknowledge him as my master! However…”

He changed the subject.

"My group consists mostly of rough men, so I'm afraid I'll have to trouble you to stay a few more days and teach them manners."

The envoy, without suspicion, readily replied, "That is only right."

As soon as the envoy was taken away and settled, the smile on Li Hongji's face vanished instantly, and his eyes became sharp as knives.

He walked to a corner of the dilapidated temple and pulled out a palm-sized black wooden plaque from behind the Buddha statue. The plaque had a small character "卫" (Wei) carved on it.

This was a token given to him by the Embroidered Uniform Guard, and also his proof of communication with the outside world.

"Xu Hongru, the Incense-Scenting Sect..."

He muttered to himself, a cold smirk playing on his lips.

"Your time to die has come."

(End of this chapter)