Chapter Seven: The Title of Guardian Commander

After finishing his words, Zhu Cilang set down the name card and the gold ingot, then departed with Fu Rugui. Only Li Jun remained, staring blankly at the name card.

For many officials, the name Zhu Cilang had begun to fade into obscurity. Yet for those from humble origins, it possessed a mysterious and indescribable allure. Among the younger scholars, there was already subdued discussion of "The Young Ming's Discourse," even at the risk of their teachers' reprimands.

He had rooted out the vermin of corruption in the Ministry of Revenue, ensuring countless soldiers—once teetering on the brink of collapse—received their rightful pay. He had given innumerable souls a chance at renewal, showing all that even those with nothing, armed with courage and ability, could snatch a sliver of life from certain death.

Suddenly, Li Jun picked up his brush and wrote feverishly. Grasping the sheet of paper, he rushed in front of Zhu Cilang, holding it high. Zhu Cilang, blocked in his path, was neither angry nor startled; instead, he burst out laughing, his voice ringing out.

“The army has hope now! Come, with a munitions expert, we need not fear the Armory and the Divine Machine Battalion foisting shoddy goods upon us!”

Sure enough, within a few days, Zhu Cilang received Li Jun—now dressed soberly in new attire—at his residence in Chengqing Lane.

“With your assistance, sir, the hope for a strong Ming army is at last within reach!” Zhu Cilang greeted him with hearty laughter.

Li Jun, faced with such honor, was visibly uneasy. Fu Rugui, standing to the side, was relaxed. “There’s no need for such formality, Master Li. Soon, we’ll rely on your great expertise to ensure our troops are not saddled with scrap and junk.”

“Just so!” Zhu Cilang declared as a carriage, already prepared, waited outside. “Enough, let’s be off to the Divine Machine Battalion to see our weapons!”

Historically, in the first year of the Tianqi reign, under Xu Guangqi’s supervision, two thousand Lumie arquebuses were distributed for troop training. Of those, only a handful were defective; the vast majority were serviceable. Judging by this, it was clear that more than two thousand had been produced, and most were stored in the armories of the Divine Machine Battalion and the Armory Bureau.

Now, with the emperor’s approval, Zhu Cilang arrived at the Divine Machine Battalion and the Armory Bureau, intent on securing arms and armor for his personal guard, or rather, his household troops.

Since Zhu Cilang was to leave the capital, he could not openly display the banner of the Crown Prince’s Guard. While armor and battle robes could wait, the weapons had to be drawn immediately. Fortunately, while others might not recognize Zhu Cilang’s true identity, Wang Cheng’en—commander of the Divine Machine Battalion and overseer of the Armory Bureau—certainly did.

A few hefty gold-laden pouches from Zhu Cilang were all it took for the little eunuch on duty at the Armory Bureau, Wang Xiao, to beam with delight. Witnessing this, Wang Cheng’en could only wince, torn between accepting or returning the gold in his hand. In the end, he resolved to ensure Zhu Cilang encountered not the slightest hindrance in requisitioning arms.

Thus, Zhu Cilang soon secured five thousand serviceable Lumie arquebuses, three hundred rare Zhedian guns produced in small batches, two thousand rocket launchers with twenty thousand matching rockets, and three Franque cannons from the armories.

Yet, having requisitioned such a vast quantity of arms, Zhu Cilang was soon faced with a dilemma. With Wang Cheng’en presiding, the problem was not with the Divine Machine Battalion’s armory—but rather, the sheer impossibility of moving it all!

This was not the future, where a few truckloads would suffice. Ten thousand firearms and other dangerous munitions could not be hauled away by Zhu Cilang and Fu Rugui alone, not in any reasonable span of time.

Of course, Zhu Cilang could have Fu Rugui summon reinforcements, or simply arrange to return another day. But to admit such oversight at the last moment would reflect poorly on his planning, especially with a new subordinate observing him.

So Zhu Cilang decided to put on an act. Glancing at Wang He, the little eunuch beside Wang Cheng’en, his eyes flickered but he said nothing. Then, looking at the mountain of arms, his gaze landed on Wang Cheng’en with a show of concern.

“The soldiers of the Divine Machine Battalion under Lord Wang’s command must be the finest in the realm.”

Understanding the hint, Wang Cheng’en immediately sent the little eunuch away, then glanced at Fu Rugui.

Zhu Cilang smiled. “Brother Rugui is a close ally of mine; there’s no need for secrecy.”

Taking the cue, Wang Cheng’en exclaimed, “Since Hero Qin places such trust in me, how can I do otherwise? Aside from the firearms, the Divine Machine Battalion also has veteran soldiers, not to mention my own Divine Pivot Battalion, well stocked with mules and horses. Following His Majesty’s intentions, should we not assign some Divine Machine Battalion veterans and Divine Pivot Battalion mules to the Crown Prince’s Guard? Only thus can we honor the kindness of His Majesty and Your Highness!”

At these words, Fu Rugui’s heart leapt—he finally understood that Hero Qin’s powerful patron was indeed the Crown Prince himself! Who else could be building a new army? Who else could dare use private funds to raise troops?

And who else but the Crown Prince could command such favor from Wang Cheng’en, the palace’s most powerful eunuch?

With this realization, Fu Rugui was suddenly filled with enthusiasm for his future with Hero Qin. The prospects were bright indeed!

He could not have guessed, however, that Zhu Cilang’s initial aim was simply to get Wang Cheng’en to assign men to help move the munitions.

Yet Wang Cheng’en’s generosity exceeded all expectations. Not only did he provide veteran soldiers from the Divine Machine Battalion, but also mules and horses for transport, and in the end, he granted an extraordinary gift: a name.

The name of the Crown Prince’s Guard.

Through these vague yet unmistakable actions, Fu Rugui was now certain beyond doubt that Zhu Cilang’s so-called household troops were, in fact, the Crown Prince’s Guard.

This reassurance eased Zhu Cilang’s earlier anxieties over the arrangements for the Crown Prince’s Guard.

Concealing the identity of the Crown Prince was, after all, a carefully considered strategy. If Zhu Cilang’s true status were made public, the censors and officials would be shocked; they would never allow his departure from the palace, much less from the capital.

If he trained the Crown Prince’s Guard solely within the capital, he would be cut off from the world outside, left to rely on a treasury long since picked clean. At best, he would end up with a handful of loyal retainers and little future.

Therefore, Zhu Cilang was resolute in concealing his identity.

But without revealing himself, there was the dilemma of how to keep command of the Crown Prince’s Guard, and how to ensure the officers and soldiers remained loyal and united.

Zhu Cilang fully intended to keep this force firmly in his grasp, but publicly announcing it as the Crown Prince’s Guard was out of the question. In the end, it would exist as a household retinue.

For the rank-and-file, it hardly mattered; whether old soldiers who had followed the Seventeenth Prince or the disorderly troops from the Right Battalion, they would fight to the death for Zhu Cilang regardless of the name.

But for middle-ranking officers and promising commanders like Fu Rugui, it would not do to have them listed simply as household retainers.