Chapter 557: Pacing Through Fire

"It really is silver. Why make it so round and chubby, just like a copper coin."

A thick, heavy silver coin flipped over once before his eyes. Manda'er examined it closely — on the back was the image of a grain transport ship, with a dock as the background, and above it a few words arranged in an arch.

Several of the northern mounted scouts beside him crowded their heads together. Because Shipai Town lay in the core area of the Anqing Battalion, nearly all transactions in the marketplace used banknotes. Under the influence of this atmosphere, everyone had quickly adapted to the banknotes.

The food stalls and wine shops in the market town were all packed to bursting. Manda'er and his group had no choice but to head to Yang Guangdi's house. On the way, they saw the Shipai Branch of the Great River Silver Bank. At noon, with few people around, he was the first to go exchange for silver coins. Qin Jiuze was the second to exchange, and was now squatting by the wall, ceaselessly shaking a few silver coins in his hand, producing an intermittent clinking sound.

The northern mounted scouts all wanted a look at the novelty. Not daring to disturb Qin Jiuze, they crowded around Manda'er. That silver coin passed from hand to hand among the crowd — a piece like this was one tael. Everyone rubbed it repeatedly with their fingertips, feeling the texture of that small lump of metal. Manda'er held his head high, wearing an expression of supreme satisfaction.

It finally stopped in Yang Guangdi's hand. This silver coin had only begun circulating at the end of last year, and he had only seen it a few times. He held it and carefully examined it for a moment, then raised his head to look at Manda'er.

"How many did you exchange?"

"Ten silver coins."

"Were the banknotes you received at Division Headquarters issued in the same batch as mine?"

Seeing Manda'er nod, Yang Guangdi said in surprise, "Those were banknotes with one Mace annual interest. If you exchange them, you lose the interest. Did the people at the silver bank tell you that when you exchanged?"

Manda'er stared blankly. "I couldn't understand what he was saying. I just said I wanted silver. What interest or no interest."

Yang Guangdi was about to speak again, but Manda'er had already reached out and taken the silver coin back. He held it in his hand, looking at it again and again, as if he did not care in the slightest about that bit of interest.

As he was looking, a chorus of children's voices came from outside. "Look at the Tartar, look at the Tartar!"

The few of them raised their heads to look. A crowd of children outside the door were shouting and jumping. Some adults stood farther away, pointing toward the main room and whispering to each other.

Yang Guangdi faced the crowd from the doorway and said, "These are mounted scouts from our own battalion, not Tartars."

The onlookers still would not leave. Among them were quite a few soldiers from the Anqing Battalion — likely ones who had not gone to rally to the king — who still found Tartars rather novel.

Anqing was part of Nanzhili. Being not far from Nanjing, they had seen plenty of Red Barbarians, but Tartars were truly a rare sight. Occasionally, outside government troops would pass through with a few Mongol household retainers among them, but they always passed via Susong and Qianshan along the mountains, never venturing as far as a place like Shipai. When the common folk learned that outside government troops were coming, they would simply hide away and never got to see those Tartar household retainers at all.

Among the Border Army troops recruited this time for rallying to the king, Manda'er also counted as a rare specimen. The moment he took off his hat, he drew a crowd. Normally, Manda'er wore a hat whenever he went out.

Today, having failed to find a food stall for some wine, the group had ended up at Yang Guangdi's home. The Anqing weather was too hot, and he could not resist taking off his hat, which immediately drew this crowd of people.

Yang Guangdi's explanation did not send the crowd away. The children all turned to Yang Guangdi and asked, "What's the Tartar eating at your place?"

Manda'er suddenly charged out the door, shouting, "The Tartar's come to eat children!"

The adults and children outside screamed and scattered in a panicked rout. Amid the chaos, the crowd ran far off and only stopped when they saw Manda'er had not chased them. Manda'er stood in the doorway, laughing heartily.

"Manda'er, what are you yelling about? You've scared all the artisans away."

Manda'er heard that it was Yang Shisan speaking. He turned to look. Yang Shisan was stripped to the waist, standing not far away. Two brick houses were under construction there — the brick walls were already half built. A few artisans had been laying bricks, but upon hearing that a Tartar had come, they too had run far off.

Because land near the cavalry camp ground was tight and Yang Shisan did not have much silver, he could not buy a suitable plot. Yang Guangdi still had a foundation on his property, reserved for building later, so he had given the land to Yang Shisan to build on first.

Yang Shisan had gone into debt to many people to redeem a woman. The combat reward silver just issued was not even enough to repay it. He could only owe Yang Guangdi for the land, and he planned to build just two rooms.

"Yang Shisan, there are so many houses for sale around here, ready-made ones you don't want — why do you have to build a new one yourself?"

This whole area consisted of houses built by the cavalrymen before. Since the cavalry had set out last year — part of them to Huguang, most to rally to the king — the number of casualties was not small. Most of the family dependents of this sort were unwilling to stay in Shipai. Since the Anqing Battalion still paid comfort compensation every month, their livelihoods were secure, and they all wished to move near Anqing Prefectural City. The prefectural city was close to the riverbank — its prosperity was one aspect, but it was also safer. As a result, housing prices in Anqing Prefectural City had recently risen again, especially for properties inside the city wall.

Yang Shisan walked up to Manda'er and cursed under his breath, "Those are all houses where people died. They just held rites to summon the souls. What if they move away but the souls don't?"

"Those would be the souls of comrades. Would they harm you or something?"

In the past, Yang Shisan would certainly have given Manda'er a thorough scolding, but he still owed Manda'er money now and could hardly curse him outright. He simply snorted and ignored him, turning back to call those artisans to return.

Suddenly, from the kitchen came the spluttering sound of rolling oil, followed by fragrance wafting out in all directions.

A short-haired woman was tending the fire in the kitchen. Manda'er craned his neck for a look. "This woman's already at your place?"

Yang Guangdi coughed. "The various families here all have to provide meals for the artisans. She was called in to help with the cooking."

Manda'er pointed at Yang Guangdi and chuckled. Yang Guangdi's face flushed crimson. Unable to resist, Manda'er peered inside again from the doorway. The woman inside had heard too, but showed not the slightest awkwardness. She lifted a water bucket, splashed it into the pot with a rush, then carried the empty bucket and walked out. Manda'er was still in the doorway. The woman acted as if she had not seen him, neither slowing down, and barreled straight toward him.

Manda'er hurriedly stepped aside. The short-haired woman brushed right past him and went to the well outside to draw water.

Yang Guangdi followed to help. Manda'er could hardly keep standing in the doorway. Spotting the one young artisan who remained, he walked over and asked him, "How come you didn't run?"

"I've seen Tartars before. I'm not scared."

Manda'er sat down on the pile of bricks beside him. "Where did you see them?"

"I'm from Dongchang Prefecture in Shandong. The Tartars captured me and took me to Dong'e. I only got out when you military lords drove off the Tartars. There was nothing left at home, no way to make a living, so I just followed the military lords all the way north, and then later south. I've seen Tartars, good and bad."

"Then you've also been to the Yongding River to fight Tartars?"

"The No. 3 Cannon of the Personal Guard Division — I helped push the cannon into Wangzhuang." The young artisan grinned, fished a wooden tablet out of the clothing on the ground beside him, and held it up toward Manda'er, his face full of pride. "This was issued by that Lord Wu to the civilian laborers who took part in the battle. I got one too. He said when it's time to recruit soldiers, I could be recruited first. I've kept it safe and sound all this time."

Manda'er burst out laughing. "Then why haven't you gone yet?"

"They said to fill the Anqing reserve troops first. I'm just waiting for whenever they recruit and let me into the battalion. If I can't get in, I'll keep learning to build houses. Got to find a craft to earn a meal, one way or another."

Just then, the woman carried a large basin of food into the main room — it seemed to be braised chicken or duck. The aroma of meat spread along the path she walked. The eyes of the artisans outside all followed the food basin, their throats bobbing ceaselessly.

Yang Guangdi's voice called out from inside the house, "Time for wine!"

Manda'er could not be bothered to say more and rushed into the house with the group of mounted scouts.

The woman left the main room, then brought out a pot of congee from the kitchen. She set it down by the brick pile and called out, "Time to eat."

The few artisans who had not dared to come close earlier now sprinted over at full speed.

……

The artisans each took a bowl of thin congee and grabbed a steamed bun, then squatted in the shade of the outer wall corner and ate ravenously. The noon heat was stifling. The few of them drank the hot congee, sweat beading all over their bodies, yet they kept eating without pause.

The young artisan blew hurriedly across the surface of his bowl. Ripples spread layer upon layer across the congee's surface, carrying away the steam. Once it had cooled a little, he would take a sip, then bite off a large mouthful of steamed bun. As the bun gradually shrank, his bites grew smaller and smaller.

Anqing was different from Shandong. Here, most food was rice. Ordinary households basically all drank congee. Wheat-based foods existed but were relatively rare. With so many northerners coming to Shipai recently and logistics still unable to keep up, wheat foods were even more precious. For the host family to provide a few steamed buns today was considered very generous.

It was noon. Although people generally ate only two meals a day, when a household had major work like building a house, the host would usually provide an extra meal so the artisans could work more. Today, Yang Guangdi had guests, all drinking wine in the main room. The noise of revelry and the fragrance of food drifted out together. The young artisan felt a trace of envy.

After finishing his first bowl of congee, the young artisan hurriedly ladled out another, then returned to squat in the shade of the wall corner and drank it slowly. In Shandong, they rarely ate rice, but rice broth was still drunk, and in ordinary households it counted as a rather high-class beverage. Everyone was accustomed to drinking it.

A few children stood in the doorway, peering inside, their saliva nearly dripping down. They only heard the voice of the young host call out an invitation, and the children cheered and ran inside.

An older artisan edged closer and said to the young artisan, "Zhou Chen, being an artisan like this isn't so bad. In a few days, learn some carpentry from me. Everywhere in Anqing needs houses built. You might even earn more than a soldier."

"Then how do I avenge my village? I've already asked around. They say when new recruits are brought in, they aren't divided up at first. You train for a month or two, then they see what kind of soldier you'll be. Right now I'm building houses to earn more, eating more meat to get stronger. Maybe I'll become an Iron Armor Soldier. That's at least three or four taels of silver — no worse than an artisan."

"You only look at the silver. These Anqing soldiers are good folk, but in the end, you're selling your life. Being an artisan is steadier."

"Iron Armor Soldiers, though — I tell you, your whole body's wrapped in iron. You can't even sell your life if you try." Zhou Chen's face was full of yearning. He then glanced around nearby. "For us outsiders from other provinces, it's not easy to gain a foothold just by being artisans. That Anqing Craftsmen Gang won't even let us build houses."

He was talking about the local Craftsmen Gang. Construction in Shipai had been booming for two or three years, drawing artisans from Anqing and the surrounding areas — even those from around Chizhou crossed the river to come. The earliest arrivals banded together into the Craftsmen Gang and wouldn't allow outside artisans to take jobs, especially Refugees coming from other regions. Those Refugees could take work at extremely low prices, undercutting the market, so the gang had a group dedicated to driving them off.

"It's not that they won't let us work — they want us to work under them, and they'll take at least thirty percent of the wages. On what grounds..."

Just as he reached that point, another artisan nearby suddenly shouted, "The Craftsmen Gang is coming!"

Zhou Chen set his bowl down, jumped up with the older artisan, and grabbed for the clothes on the ground. The moment he snatched them up, a gang of bare-chested men wielding clubs and staves appeared at the street corner. The leader pointed their way, and the whole mob immediately gave chase.

"Run! Split up and run!"

Zhou Chen bolted. Two dogs nearby barked furiously. The wind howled past his ears. The streets and alleys ahead lurched and swayed in his vision — for a moment he couldn't even tell where he was.

In the chaos, he stole a glance back. It seemed there were still men with clubs chasing him. Zhou Chen didn't dare stop. He pushed himself harder and ran on. After bursting through the street opening ahead, his view suddenly widened — he seemed to have reached the entrance of the Martial Academy.

Zhou Chen had been here many times, just to check whether Conscription had started. Today the recruitment office was open. A long line had formed on the left; the right side was empty. A few soldiers stood at the gate, and someone was even banging a gong and shouting, "The Anqing Battalion is recruiting..."

The Recruitment he had waited so long for had finally come. A surge of excitement rose in Zhou Chen's chest. He stopped at once in front of the Martial Academy. Suddenly he heard cursing and shouting behind him. He looked back — one of the Craftsmen Gang, a short stick in hand, had caught up, his face twisted with vicious menace.

Zhou Chen immediately ran to the more crowded line. A soldier nearby asked, "Those with Volunteer plaques are recruited first."

"I have one, I have one — issued by Lord Wu." Zhou Chen felt inside his clothes — his hand met nothing but emptiness. He stood frozen. That Volunteer plaque had traveled with him all the way from the North Side to Anqing, only to be lost while the Craftsmen Gang chased him.

The soldier saw this and said, "If you don't have one, you don't have one. No need for tall tales. Today the mixed battalion is recruiting few men — we can't even finish with the ones in front. If you're not a Volunteer, don't bother waiting."

"This humble one does have a plaque — truly, I just dropped it while running. I beg the military sir to grant me a small convenience."

The soldier pointed to the right. "There's no convenience to grant. They need more men over there. If you're willing to go, then go."

Zhou Chen turned his head to look. The man from the Craftsmen Gang had already arrived. He was drenched in sweat too. Seeing soldiers present, he tucked his short stick behind his back, his eyes fixed on Zhou Chen with vicious intent.

Zhou Chen had heard before that all Anqing Battalion recruitment was the same — you only got assigned a branch after entering. Which meant there was no real difference.

Right now, the artisan's savage glare frightened him. He didn't dare think further. He hurried over to the conscription office on the right. Inside were two officers and two clerks, packing things up — he couldn't tell if they were just arriving or about to leave. When they saw Zhou Chen, one officer looked him over and said, with a trace of satisfaction, "Who says we can't recruit good soldiers? Where are you from?"

"From Shandong. I've hauled cannons at Wangzhuang. I have a Volunteer plaque issued by Lord Wu..."

"No need to say more. Recruited!"

The officer's words had barely faded when the Craftsmen Gang man behind him also barged headlong through the door. He looked up, saw the Anqing Battalion officer, and his expression shifted. He tucked his short stick behind his back and started backing out the door.

The officer clapped his hands. "Just one short — perfect. This man is recruited too. Not bad, not bad."

The gang man waved his hands frantically. "This humble one is not here to enlist — I walked into the wrong place..."

The officer waved a hand. "Everyone who enters this room has come to enlist. You two are all we needed today to make the quota and hand over the duty. Guards, take them into the battalion."

Two guards immediately came in from outside. The gang man hastily tried to leave. The lead guard casually drew a Spotted Bamboo Cudgel and brought it down hard on the gang man's shoulder blade.

The gang man let out a miserable cry, the wooden stick in his hand clattering to the ground. The two guards gave him no chance to explain, beating him wildly. The gang man no longer cared about getting out the door — he covered his head and retreated, howling all the way. Zhou Chen hurriedly shrank back out of the way.

The officer's voice rang out: "In the army, there are no idle jests. Anyone who dares become a deserter — I'll hack your head off myself. Starting today, you two are soldiers of the Anqing Infantry Firearms Battalion."