Chapter 150: Female Officer

Three hundred kilometers south of the Black Flag Bank, past the garrison of the Xiliu Infantry Regiment, lies a massive Vietnamese-style building covering sixteen to seventeen mu of land. At its entrance, two young sentinels stand at all times, vigilantly watching those coming and going.

Once the headquarters of the Shanxi Governorate, the heart of power for three entire provinces, this unmarked building is now a military zone off-limits to outsiders. Everyone knows it to be the command headquarters of the entire Black Flag Army.

Upon pushing open the gate, one sees that the headquarters, after renovation, is filled with lush green trees. Officers from the Black Flag Army pass by in haste, belonging to various departments of the headquarters—some from the staff department, some from the logistics department, while those with constant smiles belong to the liaison department, which is often referred to as the enemy intelligence department.

Officers from various infantry battalions and regiments also move briskly about here. This place can be considered the brain of the Black Flag Army. In the offices, remarkably young officers handle tasks with great efficiency. Like their predecessors, they all hope to go to the front lines to command troops, but most remain here.

As the deputy head of the staff department’s operations division, Liu Suiyun actually oversees the entire operations department. He puts a stack of documents into a file bag, stamps them, and says to a staff member, “Take this to the general affairs office for record-keeping.”

He is also an unusually young officer. Liu Yu promoted him from battalion commander to the operations department out of trust. According to some rumors, after the New Year, he is likely to become the head of the staff department, while the current acting deputy head, due to insufficient experience, may be demoted to battalion commander.

Liu Suiyun is even younger and more energetic than his subordinates. These young staff officers in their twenties completed analyses of the French army’s combat intentions overnight. After investigating the French army’s strength, he came up with a different plan from Liu Yu’s.

The file bag was quickly delivered to the general affairs office.

The general affairs office is Liu Yu’s personal office but often functions as the brain of the entire organization. Several stunningly beautiful girls work there, binding similar documents into volumes, covering them with covers, archiving outdated documents, and assisting Jiang Ningxue with accounting tasks.

The room is filled with a gentle fragrance. There are potted plants on the windowsill, and glass bottles on the desks hold wildflowers submerged in water, adding a touch of elegance to the busy atmosphere.

Jiang Ningxue’s large desk is covered with countless large sheets of paper. Any one of these sheets, if taken to Hanoi, could be sold by the French for 10,000 francs.

“Current Personnel List of the Xiliu Infantry Regiment,” “Weapon Statistics of the Tiger Battalion,” “List of Requests for Special War-Time Expenditures for the Crow Battalion”…

A girl sits at a nearby desk, using a unique abacus to help Jiang Ningxue verify the data. “Sister Ningxue, the Tiger Battalion’s personnel have increased by seventeen this month, but it’s not reflected in the Xiliu Regiment’s report…”

No matter which infantry battalion or regiment it was, they all had to go through Jiang Ningxue’s approval before they could receive military funds from the Black Flag Bank. At that moment, Jiang Ningxue was going through various forms, jotting down notes in a notebook with a pencil. After a while, she stood up, indicating that she was temporarily done, and handed the monthly military fund distribution sheet to Ruan Menglian. Ruan Menglian took out a seal from the general affairs department, stamped it on the document, then took out Liu Yu’s personal seal and said to a girl, “Xiao Ping, take this to the Black Flag Bank. Have two guards accompany you.” In the general affairs department, Ruan Menglian held considerable power; without her, the entire document processing procedure would hardly function smoothly. Jiang Ningxue initially held a hostile attitude toward them, but soon she noticed that document processing became much smoother, and Liu Yu had more time to spend with her. In the past, due to Liu Yu’s desire for power and the naturally formed centralized system, all matters related to the Black Flag Army had to be handled by him—a rather normal practice. The problem was that as a history enthusiast from another era, Liu Yu had an insatiable need for information. He even established a rule: “Any military document must be filed in the commander’s office as well.” Although there was an officer assisting with the work, hundreds of documents were submitted by various units every day, many of which only needed to be filed, and Liu Yu had to review them all. In fact, every feudal dynasty faced the problem of the emperor having to process an enormous amount of information. After the establishment of the Grand Council in the Qing Dynasty, this issue became even more critical. The Qing Dynasty’s solution to this problem was to implement a system of memorials, or rather, to control the emperor’s handling of these memorials. Around eighty to one hundred twenty memorials were submitted daily, and only a limited number of people had the right to submit memorials directly to the emperor. Having this right was a sign of high status among officials. Among those hundred or so memorials, there was also a large amount of useless information. The three most common words in the Qing imperial archives were: “Understood.” Everything from county magistrates’ reports to requests for leave from high-ranking officials, and even expressions of gratitude, was included in these memorials. Only twenty or thirty of them were truly useful. Yet under such a system, the emperor could hardly obtain the information he needed and was constantly busy. The entire national system forced the emperor to attend what was called the “morning assembly” every day to deal with both useful and useless documents. No matter what the reason, he had to attend these early meetings. Liu Yu, on the other hand, preferred the modern Chinese system. Although it had many problems, it did not rely entirely on one person to function; instead, many issues arose during its operation. However, after Ruan Menglian and the others arrived, efficiency improved significantly. Ruan Menglian could easily determine which of the hundreds of documents did not need to be processed and could be filed directly, which ones should be sent directly to the relevant departments, and which archives needed to be compiled together.

Yet the greatest contribution was that they prepared a “Black Flag Army Daily Summary” based on these documents every day, compiling the collected top-secret materials and handing them directly to Liu Yu for processing. On the basis of this daily summary, they also compiled another report, removing some of the most sensitive materials, which only Liu Yongfu, Huang Shouzhong, and Tang Jingsong were allowed to access. The staff headquarters also prepared materials such as the “Operations Room Weekly Report” for Liu Yu’s reference, and some less sensitive documents even reached the level of the infantry regiments. All of this made it much easier for Liu Yu to handle affairs; he even delegated some of his secondary powers to Tang Jingsong, establishing a division of responsibilities so that no one had to work alone. It was precisely because of the improved efficiency that Jiang Ningxue could tolerate Ruan Menglian and the others staying behind and engaging in a power struggle with her in the office. There was no chatter in the office; everyone worked quietly on official documents. When work temporarily came to a halt, they would go to the backyard to rest. There, in addition to gardens, lawns, and ponds, there was also a small library and a spacious lounge. Liu Yu was considering building an indoor swimming pool there, with their bedrooms following. Jiang Ningxue found that she had finished her tasks, while Ruan Menglian was still dealing with one document after another. She had a sharp eye for judgment, quickly sorting the documents and assessing their importance. Many files were placed in document bags and stored away until needed, with the general affairs office having four separate archives, each occupying a large room. After reviewing a document, she would write her comments on a label—whether it should be “sent to the commander” or “forwarded to the staff headquarters”—with another girl helping her verify the information. For her, this was a paradise-like job. The power dreams she had never realized in Shunhua were finally fulfilled in her hometown. She held considerable power, and Liu Yu even authorized her to handle some purely ceremonial documents on her own. Just as the central office was important in the power structure, Ruan Menglian also found this life wonderful—relaxed, promising, and full of sunshine, without the worries of the Shunhua palace. Thinking of this, she casually picked up a pencil and wrote a few words in her work notebook, only to realize that all the documents had already been processed. She felt a bit disheartened until she saw Jiang Ningxue rushing out, lifting her skirt: “Ah Yu, you’re back!” “I’m back!” She saw the unusually young Liu Yu smiling as he took Jiang Ningxue’s hand. “It’s fine; nothing serious happened.” The young man was so youthful and full of vigor. Though not a carefree youth, he was the source of Ruan Menglian’s happiness. Liu Yu was wearing her favorite French officer’s uniform, a captured trophy that made him look very handsome. He sat down casually on a chair, and a girl handed him the compiled reports and documents that required his personal attention.

Liu Yu would always first go through the compiled information, which was quite chaotic and covered a wide range of topics—from prices to developments among Vietnamese officials, even to the deployment of Qing troops in Bắc Ninh. After Ruan Menglian and the others abbreviated it, Liu Yu could clearly obtain the information he needed, sometimes adding a few comments as well.

If more information was required, Jiang Ningxue would hand over the original documents to Liu Yu, and everything was handled calmly. As for important documents that needed Liu Yu’s handling, he would consult their opinions while calling in the department heads.

He didn’t have much time to process documents. After an hour and a half, Liu Yu yawned and saw the battle scenario sent by Liu Suiyun: “Suiyun’s idea is good—retreat to Xuan Guang for a decisive battle in an attempt to annihilate one or two French battalions. But we can’t retreat!”

Ruan Menglian remained silent; she knew it wasn’t her turn to speak. Instead, Jiang Ningxue asked, “Why?”

“That’s exactly what I was worried about when I decided to take control of Xuan Guang. But under the current circumstances, if we retreat to Xinghua or Xuan Guang, everything will work against us.”

Over the years, he had figured out many things. The reason why the battle in Shanxi was so crucial, becoming one of the key points leading to successive defeats for the Chinese army in the early stages of the Sino-French War, was simple: wealth.

In Northern Vietnam, it wasn’t just a granary but also capable of supporting thousands of troops. Once they left Shanxi, the Black Flag Army could only rely on support from the Qing troops.

In this timeline, Liu Yu faced an even more serious situation. His industries were mostly located in Shanxi City. Although there were plans to relocate some to places like Xuan Guang and Baosheng, leaving Shanxi would reduce industrial production by almost half.

Due to these difficulties, Liu Yu could only cling to the determination to hold firm: “Suiyun’s idea is good, but I’ve stationed 10,700 soldiers in Shanxi—I’m not going to give up Shanxi.”

Over there, Ruan Menglian said softly, “Another small battalion has arrived today. Now, there are 11,134 officers and soldiers in Shanxi.”

“Hmm!” Liu Yu knew these girls had to adjust many figures in the tables every day. “How many troops are there in other areas?”

“In Henan, including those from the Huajian Sect, there are 1,463 troops. In the rear area, there are 4,270. Including the Vietnamese troops that have been reorganized, the number of unreorganized Vietnamese troops is 5,700.”

These were all the troops of the Black Flag Army. Ruan Menglian memorized all these numbers so she could recite them at any time. Liu Yu nodded and said, “All the combat-ready troops have been gathered in Shanxi. How many more can be mobilized from the rear forces in the short term?”

“There are only two combat-ready battalions, 920 troops, but their weapons are incomplete. It’s hard to say how much combat effectiveness they can have against the French.”

“Send them to Hanoi and have them get some foreign guns from the local infantry.”

Jiang Ningxue nodded and recorded Liu Yu’s words. By then, Liu Yu had finished processing all the documents. “Good! It was fast today. Otherwise, we’d have to delay dinner again.”

“Hmm! Dinner is beef rice with a few vegetarian dishes.”

In the small details of daily life, these concubines also knew how to take care of others. Besides, the Xiliu Camp didn’t have as many rules as Shunhua—as long as Liu Yu was happy, simplicity was sufficient.
Jiang Ningxue ate her beef rice in small bites while keeping a vigilant eye on Ruan Menglian.
Unlike Luo Yanqiu, they were women who had always been by Liu Yu’s side; everyone ate at the same table.
Ruan Menglian changed into a white dress and picked a piece of meat into Liu Yu’s bowl. “Ayu, I want to ask—are we confident about this military campaign?”
The other girls were equally concerned about this issue; they didn’t want such happy days to disappear just like that. Liu Yu picked up his bowl and smiled. “It’s thanks to you all that I have my trump card. Otherwise, I might have agreed with Sui Yun’s opinion.”
“What kind of trump card?”