Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Competition

However, when it comes to promotions and wealth, things are not so easily managed for the time being. Within the Imperial Guards, the highest possible rank is that of Commander—there can hardly be multiple commanders, nor can I easily transfer anyone out. For I am well aware that, be it in the army or at court, my own voice carries very little weight.

Zhuge Liang and Li Yan are contending ceaselessly for control over court and military affairs. I am almost certain that, should I ever infringe upon their interests, backlash would swiftly follow. The reason things have gone so smoothly of late is precisely because I have never sought to compete with them over any share of power or profit.

Even when I transferred Li Shan from the Office of the Imperial Chariots, it did not touch their interests in the slightest—they had only to appoint another in his stead. As for the establishment of the Eastern Depot, now counting more than a hundred agents, to them it was merely a sign of the Emperor’s idle boredom, a harmless distraction.

So, when Li Shan reported yesterday, Zhuge Liang and Li Yan showed no intention of opposition; on the contrary, they offered their support, allocating five thousand strings of cash and two thousand bushels of grain, even instructing him to serve His Majesty well.

I know that the newly minted copper coins, though nominally worth one wen, are valued at a hundred, and their purchasing power remains considerable. As for two thousand bushels of grain, though it pales beside the hundred thousand or two hundred thousand bushels required for the army’s needs, it is still significant. For me, this means I need not worry about start-up funds for the Eastern Depot or rewards for the Imperial Guards.

If I cannot promote my soldiers, then I shall make them rich! Yet even the distribution of money is an art. I cannot simply stride into the camp, raise my arm, and declare, “I am going to give you all money!” Were I to do that, the Guards would surely take me for a fool recklessly scattering wealth.

Instead, let me borrow a method from my past life, from the art of peacetime soldiery: give these idle guards something to do! For example, competitions or drills.

With competition comes the survival of the fittest, and the victors ought to be rewarded—so, in the grandest and most proper fashion, those who excel shall grow rich. As for the defeated, they will inevitably feel dissatisfied; if I make such contests routine, the discontented will strive all the harder, hoping to earn their reward.

After all, who is an enemy to money? Every man wishes for a better life.

Competitions may begin simply and grow ever more varied and complex. In time, I am convinced I can spark a fervor throughout the Imperial Guards. As these contests diversify, this spirit might well be transformed into true fighting strength.

Very well, let us begin with something simple!

At the Imperial Guards’ camp, I, clad in armor, long sword at my waist and Dragon’s Courage spear in hand, stood tall upon the parade ground.

Below, five thousand Imperial Guards stood in formation, divided into left, center, and right battalions, each clearly distinct.

Yet, looking down from my vantage, the formation was anything but orderly—hardly worthy of the name “formation” at all. The lines were crooked and unsightly.

Since this is so, let the first team competition be about formations!

“Pang Bo, Lin Youzhi, Wang Zhe, where are you?” I called, thumping my spear against the ground.

“Your servant is here!” the three commanders replied in unison.

“Step up onto the platform,” I ordered.

When the three of them had mounted the stage, I gestured broadly to the assembled troops. “The Imperial Guards are tasked with defending the imperial city. Compared to ordinary troops, you ought to display even greater discipline. Yet look at your men—where is the dignity? There is no sense of order at all! Are you soldiers, or a rabble of market hawkers?”

The three commanders glanced at each other, perplexed. They had thought the Emperor’s sudden appearance heralded another assignment.

Last time, the Guards had made a windfall; by the Emperor’s decree, nearly half the old swords and light armor had been sent to the Prime Minister’s residence, replaced by over a hundred fine horses and nearly two thousand sets of long halberds and iron armor—a true leap in equipment, raising morale across the board.

But now, it seemed the Emperor had come to reprimand them. Still, faced with the shambolic lines below, they could offer no defense.

All three battalions of the Imperial Guards stood packed in the field, devoid of any orderly formation—a sight that displeased even themselves.

But in truth, I had not come to punish. In the past, the Guards had been under the Empress Dowager’s command; poor training was, if not excusable, at least understandable.

So I said, “Each of you commands a little under two thousand men. I have an idea—hear me out, and tell me if it is feasible.”

“Your Majesty, please speak!”

“Let each commander’s battalion—left, center, and right—compete against the others. In thirty days, the battalion with the best formation will be rewarded: each man will receive half a bushel of grain and half a string of cash!” I declared.

The commanders’ eyes lit up. Imperial rewards were not like the previous gold cakes, which were for communal use—these could be taken home.

For soldiers like them, who had left their farms and families—some conscripted, some seeking a steady wage—military pay was vital to supporting their households.

Their monthly pay amounted to half a bushel of grain and half a string of cash—barely enough to keep a family of five well-fed and clothed.

If they could earn an extra half bushel and half string, there would be meat on the table.

I had already investigated: in ancient times, one bushel was about a hundred liters; one liter of rice weighed about 1.25 pounds, so a bushel was roughly 140 pounds. For convenience, the current sacks and bamboo baskets were all measured by the bushel.

Half a bushel, seventy pounds—if used sparingly, it could feed a family of five for over half a month. How could this not excite them?

Thus, I saw the flicker of hope in the three commanders’ eyes.

Pang Bo exclaimed joyfully, “Is Your Majesty speaking the truth?”

At this, I rubbed my nose. Why did they always doubt my word? I had no choice but to repeat, “The Emperor does not jest!”

With this confirmation, the three were overjoyed and replied together, “It can be done, without a doubt!”

Only a fool would contradict the Emperor.

Immediately, Pang Bo announced the Emperor’s decree, causing a further uproar among the Guards, who were all delighted, chattering excitedly amongst themselves.

I thumped my spear once more, and when silence returned, I called out, “Do not rejoice too early! If you wish to earn my reward, you must sweat for it—and meet my standards!”

As for the training, I had already decided: it would be the formation drills I had undergone in university military training in my previous life.

That afternoon, I spent nearly all my time explaining the details of formation training to the three commanders.

Formation training would cover static formations, dynamic movements, response to commands, and even the shouting of slogans.

Most notably, I introduced the goose step.

In my previous life, every time the people of China saw goose stepping during a military parade, their hearts swelled with pride.

If my own Imperial Guards could reach that level—well, just the thought of it now made my blood race.