Chapter 116: Allocation

Liu Yu simply said, “Then fine, how about the three of us take control of all the power in the Black Flag Army?”
At his words, Huang Shouzhong and Liu Yongfu were shocked. “All of it?”
“All the power!” Liu Yu’s gaze was filled with determination. “All of it.”
Liu Yongfu sighed softly. “I wish I had had your resolve back then.”
The Black Flag Army’s organizational structure was modeled after the Xianghuai Yong Army, and it shared the same flaw—soldiers served their officers, leading to inefficiency, as each officer guarded their own territory. From an officer’s perspective, this was normal, but now the three of them were no longer ordinary officers; they were regiment commanders above officers, so their perspective was different.
Liu Yu was far better in this regard. In the Xiliu Camp, he had always been the ultimate authority. Even in camps like Ye Chenglin’s Crow Camp, the appointment of a platoon leader required Liu Yu’s approval. But Liu Yongfu and Huang Shouzhong did not have such advantages.
Yet Huang Shouzhong thought Liu Yu’s suggestion was excellent. Rather than letting officers’ power expand indefinitely, it was better to take full control, just as they had done before as former camp commanders. After all, they did have such advantages.
The three of them controlled all of the Black Flag Army’s troops. No one dared oppose their decisions. If they acted quickly, they could seize all the power. “How should it be operated?”
“Let me handle daily affairs. We’ll meet once a week to decide on the army’s major policies. If there are disputes, we can vote—one vote per person.”
This condition offered Huang Shouzhong great temptation. What concerned him most were the words “one vote per person.”
If each of the three regiment commanders had one vote, Liu Yu wouldn’t actually hold unlimited power. As long as he and Liu Yongfu agreed, they could overturn Liu Yu’s decisions. “One vote per person? The majority wins?”
“Meet once a week, one vote per person!” Liu Yu was equally decisive. “The power of the Black Flag Army must be in our three hands.”
Huang Shouzhong clearly hadn’t seen what a team meeting really entailed. He was focused on the power structure, while Liu Yu knew well that in such meetings, the secretary always controlled everything and could even force resolutions through, regardless of opposition.
Liu Yongfu was also very interested. He felt he could now fully control all the power of the two infantry regiments, without having to fear Wu Fengdian’s challenges like before. He too didn’t understand what a team meeting entailed.
Democratic centralism meant centralization first and foremost. He asked another question, “What about the equipment of the Second Regiment?”
“We’ll also have a vote on that,” Liu Yu replied plainly. “I’ll hand over the powers related to the Xiliu Camp, and the three of us can form a council.”
Liu Yu accomplished what Liu Yongfu had always wanted to do but failed to. Liu Yongfu’s expression showed deep emotion, but he also knew this was an opportunity.
He still had a chance to seize supreme power over the entire Black Flag Army. But he simply asked thoughtfully, “As regiment commanders?”

“We will have two regiments here in Xiliu Camp, so I will nominate one…” Liu Yu also spoke crisply, “You can nominate another as well; it’s up to you whether it’s Liu Chengliang or Wu Fengdian.”
The council will no longer be governed by a system of three standing committee members but rather five. Liu Yongfu expressed satisfaction with this: “What if it’s Lian Mei?”
“That’s also up to you!”
Often, politics is nothing but direct exchange of interests, but this undoubtedly harmed Huang Shouzhong’s interests, forcing him to express his stance on this issue.
“I think Lord Tang Jingsong should join the council.” As a regiment with only two infantry battalions, Huang Shouzhong also wanted to get someone in there: “He was sent by the emperor.”
Even though Tang Jingsong didn’t completely agree with him and didn’t have as much control over nominations as Liu Yu and Liu Yongfu, he still had to push him forward.
But Liu Yongfu immediately snorted, “An outsider!”
That was a very straightforward way for him to express his stance. Despite obeying Tang Jingsong at critical moments, in his heart, Tang Jingsong was just an outsider.
An outsider.
If things failed in Vietnam, he, Tang Jingsong, could simply return to Beijing to continue his work as an official in the Ministry of Personnel, but Liu Yongfu and the others would face utter disaster.
Based on this judgment, Liu Yongfu wisely made his decision: “An outsider…”
Huang Shouzhong had no choice but to turn to Liu Yu for support: “Commander, I think General Liu’s opinion is too rash. Lord Tang was sent by the emperor and has influence in the imperial court.”
But Liu Yu rejected it from a different perspective: “Five votes is just right. What if there are six votes—three against three? Besides, he’s just an outsider.”
Even Liu Yongfu regarded Tang Jingsong as an outsider, let alone Liu Yu: “He’s just an outsider.”
Huang Shouzhong wanted to speak again, but Liu Yongfu laughed: “This is our first vote—two to one.”
He realized the advantages of this system of democratic centralism.
There are two extreme opinions on this moment in history.
“At the moment when Mr. Liu Yu seized supreme power in the Black Flag Army, he wisely sensed the trends of the times and took the initiative to reform the political system by establishing a council as the highest authority of the Black Flag Army. This body was more akin to a modern wartime cabinet, laying the foundation for the growth and expansion of the Black Flag Army. This was a landmark event in East Asian history…”
—From *A Brief History of the Black Flag Revolution*, Tokyo, 1973, published by the Chenghu Memorial Committee.
“After seizing supreme power in the revolutionary Black Flag Army, this peasant revolutionary traitor first suppressed the army’s spontaneous democratic tendencies, established an entirely illegal supreme council, monopolized all powers of the Black Flag Army, big and small—even matters as trivial as purchasing toilets had to be approved by the supreme council.”
—From *The True History of the Chinese Revolution: Revealing Another True History of the Black Flag Army*, Feng Ziyu, New York City, Republic of the People of America, 1922.
…
June 1883. Tianjin.
Compared to Beijing and Baoding, Li Hongzhang preferred to stay in this city.

This city, tied to his decades of achievements, was the only place where he could settle down and study the Zizhi Tongjian. In his youth, he sought titles and honors thousands of miles away, believing that no one else in the world could compare to him as a hero; in old age, however, he realized everything was empty. Others thought Li Shaoquan was the most skilled in modernization efforts, but he knew his own limitations clearly. Although he had learned much about governing from General Zeng, he understood that such skills could only be used to deceive—deceiving foreigners, subordinates, colleagues, the emperor, and the empress dowager, and ultimately, himself. Yet he didn’t know what else to learn. He could talk at length about Western affairs, but he couldn’t deceive himself. Recalling his actions during his time in Zeng Guofan’s office, he felt ashamed and could only turn to reading the Zizhi Tongjian more. Even with this book, there were some things he didn’t understand. Only in Tianjin could he calm down and carefully reflect on the successes and failures of past dynasties. This city had his most trusted personal troops, the finest artillery force, with all the cannons unique to his camp, commanded by his most trusted generals. These troops never left Tianjin. Even when the Huai Army suffered heavy losses in Korea and beyond during the Sino-Japanese War, they did not participate in the battles. It was not until the invasion by the Eight-Nation Alliance that these elite troops finally dispersed after fierce fighting. Near Tianjin were dozens of Huai Army battalions; inside the city was the machinery bureau he had painstakingly established, and overseas was the navy he had personally organized. Thus, in this city, he could live in peace and quiet, reading the Zizhi Tongjian while enjoying the rare sunlight. He, this city, and the entire Huai Army system were permeated with a sense of decay, but unlike the decay in Beijing, there was still a hint of sunshine and vitality on the surface. Sometimes Li Hongzhang wanted to leave this city, to feel the sea breeze and hear the sound of the waves, but he preferred to stay. With his achievements already secured, why work harder? What he did was merely patch things up and deceive time. His gaze was filled with confusion. Slowly, he turned to the young figure and asked, “Youqiao, what report have you written this time?” That young figure reminded him of his own youth. Zhang Peilun, dressed in green, was as charming as Li Hongzhang in his youth, when he too was a newly appointed Hanlin scholar. He replied gently, “I wrote a report recommending someone for promotion.” Upon seeing him, Li Hongzhang was reminded of many past events. This capable figure from the reformist faction and he, a powerful official in the court, belonged to different generations, yet their families had a special relationship. It was in November of the third year of the Xianfeng era when the Taiping Army advanced northward to Luzhou. Lü Xianji led 600 local militia troops to defend Shucheng but was defeated. Li Hongzhang fled before being defeated and headed straight for Hefei. The newly appointed governor, Jiang Zhongyuan, ordered him to lead his 600 local troops to assist other militias in defending Luzhou. Li Hongzhang had no intention of sharing the fate of Luzhou. Seeing that the Taiping Army kept digging tunnels to attack the city and was determined to take it, he pretended to gather local troops and retreated.

He, along with the disorganized troops gathered by the former inspector Zhang Yintang and the Sichuan warriors, all stationed at Gangziji to observe the situation. Zhang Yintang was the father of Zhang Peilun, and thus the friendship between the Zhang and Li families began. Shu Xing’a, the governor of Shaanxi and Gansu, led troops to rescue Luzhou but also halted at Gangziji. Li Hongzhang went to see him and urged prompt assistance, but Shu Xing’a deliberately delayed. Inside the city, Jiang Zhongyuan was in extreme distress, yet at Gangziji, Li Hongzhang and Zhang Yintang only focused on protecting themselves and did not send a single soldier.

On the 15th day of the first month in the fourth year, the Taiping Army captured Luzhou and killed the officials and gentry defending the city, including Jiang Zhongyuan. Li Hongzhang managed to escape by chance outside the city.

This shared pattern of failing to help in times of crisis naturally differed from ordinary friendships. As a key figure among the reformists, Zhang Peilun became close to Li Hongzhang and rose to prominence thanks to this familial bond. With Zhang Peilun by his side, Li Hongzhang also enjoyed many advantages. Although the reformists were highly influential at the time, the fire of their influence never reached Li Hongzhang, largely because of Zhang Peilun’s position among them.

Yet upon seeing this reflection of his youth, Li Hongzhang was filled with thoughts: “What memorials has he written criticizing others? This could offend people.” He had also done many things that offended others in his youth. For example, the young Lu Xianji died by drowning, indirectly due to Li Hongzhang’s actions. Later, to survive, he stirred up trouble everywhere; people even called him “a scholar turned bandit.” After suppressing the Taiping Rebellion, he deceived everyone and offended many.

Zhang Peilun smiled brightly: “If I write memorials to protect people, even more will be saved.”

The reason why the reformists became a major force in the court was not because they constantly criticized others. People like Zhang Zhidong were extremely tactful and never wanted to offend the powerful officials; they preferred to target the weak. As for Zhang Peilun, he was also shrewd. His rapid rise to power came not from criticizing many people but from protecting many. Once he recommended someone, even if they couldn’t instantly achieve great success, their status would soar by a hundred times.

Yet Li Hongzhang shook his head: “Yaoqiao, you must always treat others with an attitude of humility…”

These words triggered another memory in Li Hongzhang’s mind. After Jiang Zhongyuan’s death, Fu Ji succeeded him as governor of Anhui. Li Hongzhang had been an assistant examiner during the Dingwu examination period and also Fu Ji’s mentor. But under Fu Ji’s leadership, Li Hongzhang remained underutilized for years, enduring many hardships—a great trial in his life. After suppressing the Taiping Rebellion, Li Hongzhang replied to Fu Ji, saying, “Your kindness and care have been especially deep and sincere. Over the years, although my performance as a student was poor, it was because we went through hardships together and emerged after countless trials.” Later, descendants of the Huai Army wrote about various matters related to the Huai Army, saying that Li Hongzhang managed the army in such a way that the generals did not get along, preventing them from conspiring to harm their commander—a clear continuation of Fu Ji’s approach.

These were the very words Fu Ji had said: “Always treat others with an attitude of humility…”

Yet Zhang Peilun resembled Li Hongzhang back then, equally determined to “turn scholars into bandits”: “Prime Minister, at a time of great change in the country, reforms are necessary. We should appoint fresh talents and use capable people to promote revival. This is a critical matter, which is why I’ve come specially to ask you to make a decision…”

Li Hongzhang knew well that Zhang Peilun could offend many officials in the court but would not offend him. It was because of him that his position among the reformists remained as stable as a mountain, making him a cornerstone in the court.

Looking at that young and energetic man, Li Hongzhang finally put down the Comprehensive Mirror to History and asked, “Who are you recommending this time?”
The Qingliu faction loved nothing better than recommending capable people. People like Zhang Peilun would often submit memorials recommending dozens or even hundreds of individuals. If those recommended people achieved success in their careers, they would naturally remember his kindness.
However, he was also ruthless when recommending people. More importantly, unlike Zhang Zhidong, who liked to use heavy artillery to shoot at mosquito holes, he dared to take action, from county officials to provincial governors. As long as Li Hongzhang stood behind him, he could remain unshaken among the Qingliu faction.
“This time, I intend to recommend Xu Yanxu, the former governor of Guangxi, as the new governor of Guangxi. There are many others I want to recommend as well.”
Li Hongzhang’s eyes sparkled: “Then who do you plan to recommend?”