Chapter 339: Opening the Port (VI)

Wu Sanye stamped hard on the gravel underfoot. Feeling the rebound force through his thin-soled cotton boots, he nodded with satisfaction before leading his men onward.

Paving gravel over a river beach that was entirely sludge was no easy task — it cost labor, it cost materials, and most importantly, it cost silver.

Yet Third Lord had ultimately paid out this sum. He was a villain with vision and dreams, and he firmly believed his investment would yield ample returns.

The river beach Third Lord was inspecting was called Zhang Sutan.

It lay right beside the Yangtze estuary. Because seawater often surged back with the tides, the surrounding land could not grow crops. Over months and years, Zhang Sutan had become a wasteland thick with thatch and reeds.

Yet what seemed like barren land actually held hidden depths. Off the shore of Zhang Sutan sat an island, equally overgrown with trees. In the winding channel between the island and the mainland, a wooden jetty stealthily extended outward.

This was a private port — well-positioned, visually concealed, and convenient for all sorts of people to come and do business.

Business at the Zhang Sutan private port was quite brisk. Private salt dealers traveling north and south would stop here; bandits on the run from the law would bring their stolen goods; and any runaway slave planning to take the sea route would mostly come here to find a ship. In addition, some fishermen who could no longer endure the extortion of the cruel officials at the official docks would sometimes offload their catch here — even though Zhang Sutan took its own cut.

And the one who forcefully maintained order here and profited from it was none other than Wu Sanye and his men.

Wu Sanye's single given name was "Meng," and he was a local man. In his early years, he had gathered a gang of idlers who spent their days committing all manner of evil and doing unspeakable deeds. About ten years ago, while Wu Meng and his men were hiding from official runners in the reed thickets of Zhang Sutan, someone suddenly blurted out: "This place would make a fine spot for a private port."

And so, the present-day Zhang Sutan private port came to be.

Ten years. Wu Meng had spent a full ten years building up this territory, treating it as the very capital upon which he and his brothers staked their lives and livelihoods. And Zhang Sutan did not disappoint Wu Meng's hopes. From the moment the jetty was completed, this two-hundred-mu river beach began to bring him a steady stream of profit.

By now, Wu Meng, Wu Sanye, had used the influence of this place to carve out a huge name for himself in the Edo, becoming a major power who took a cut of all spoils.

With about ten of his men, Third Lord followed his daily inspection route all the way to the dock. The early spring chill was bone-piercingly cold, the river surface a bleak expanse, and the dock itself was much quieter as a result.

There were few people beside the jetty, and only two ships moored there — one fishing ship, one fast ship.

The fishing ship had already finished unloading its fish; the boat boss was weighing anchor and hoisting sail, ready to leave. When he saw Third Lord's group step onto the jetty, he offered a beaming salute from the bow.

Third Lord was always amiable toward those who brought him money, so he waved back at the boat boss with an equally beaming smile.

As for that other fast ship, Third Lord swept his eyes over the several tough, capable crewmen aboard who wore bamboo hats and carried waist knives, then swept his eyes over the slender, elongated hull and the hemp sacks being unloaded — and he already had a pretty good idea.

"What's their background? They look unfamiliar," Third Lord asked, turning his head as he walked over and opened a hemp sack to inspect the goods.

"First time we've seen them. Word is they were sent by a big operator from the Huainan area to scout the route," someone beside him promptly supplied.

"Mm..." Pulling a handful of top-quality salt grains from the sack, Wu Sanye nodded: just as he had judged, this group of strangers were indeed salt dealers.

"Since they're scouting the route, give them a good price." As a composite entity of salt overlord and fish overlord, Third Lord naturally would not turn away business. In fact, he was in quite a good mood at the moment: this kind of refined salt was usually only dealt in by major salt overlords, which meant the other party had very likely come from the same trade in Huainan, drawn by his reputation.

Bearing the delighted feeling that "his influence had expanded again," Wu Sanye not only decided to give the visitors a sufficient payment for their goods, but also personally stepped forward to exchange a few words with them across the bow.

The only one on the other side who spoke with Wu Sanye was a dark, lean, middle-aged man. He called himself "Gu Le," spoke in a thick Huainan local dialect, was taciturn and sparing with words, and seemed highly suspicious.

Wu Sanye was long familiar with this type: salt dealers away from home were all like this — guarded at every turn, ready to fight for their lives at any moment.

So after a brief exchange, he smilingly cupped his hands and took his leave. Before departing, he even instructed his men to send some wine and food over to the fast ship — strangers at first meeting, acquaintances by the second; all who came were guests. After a few more dealings, this group would lower their guard. By then, with his methods, he would naturally be able to establish a line to Huainan, and everyone could earn money together.

Third Lord's good mood came to an abrupt halt the moment he stepped off the jetty: a subordinate running toward him reported that Du Yaren from Xiancheng had arrived, saying he had important matters to discuss.

Committing crimes in Huang Cao Tan certainly did not permit building houses, so whether for eating, sleeping, or hiding fugitives, everything here took place in dens hidden among the grass.

When Third Lord hurried into the thatched hut, Du Yaren — clad in a loose robe, round and plump, his round face forever wearing a smile — was already seated on a wood board stool drinking tea with his young attendant.

Du Yaren was a well-known mediator in the county. His business was wide-ranging; he moved smoothly in both the underworld and legitimate circles, and was often invited to mediate major conflicts.

Not only that, but he ordinarily also served as the mouthpiece of the authorities. Certain tacit understandings that were inconvenient to announce publicly yet had to be grasped were often conveyed by Du Yaren to the various Edo figures.

So this fellow's visits usually meant no good — in most cases, he was there on behalf of the officials to extort tribute. Wu Sanye's gang had occupied official land to smuggle contraband for a full decade; those officials were not dead men — without benefits, how could they tolerate him?

Thus, when Third Lord heard that Du Yaren had graced them with his presence, his mood soured considerably. And then, not long after, his mood was no longer sour... because he had passed beyond fury.

"What?! You want me to hand over Zhang Sutan and find my own way to survive?!" Wu Sanye, upon hearing Du Yaren's words, instantly flew into a rage and shot to his feet, nearly knocking open the thatched roof above his head.

"Third Lord, do not be angry. Allow Du to finish speaking."

Du Yaren was highly experienced and utterly unmoved by his counterpart's emotions. Next, he unhurriedly laid out the other party's terms.

"That Master Xiong has already had the deed transferred for these several dozen li of beach land, paying the silver at the rate for low-grade fields. His Honor the County Magistrate is very pleased."

"Master Xiong knows Third Lord has business at Zhang Sutan... and intends to provide a sum of silver... after all, the land now belongs to him."

"Third Lord may leave on his own... or may take up a post under Master Xiong... it is precisely a time when men are needed..."

"This is the handiwork of the Fujian Grand General... Third Lord must not act on impulse..."

By the time Du Yaren had laid everything bare, an hour had passed. And Wu Meng by now had stopped his shouting and raging, sitting quietly to one side and listening to the full content.

After pondering in silence for a moment, Wu Sanye rose and walked to the entrance of the hut. He first folded his arms and gazed into the distance for a while, then turned sideways and gestured for Du Yaren to stand beside him.

"When we built that jetty ten years ago, all the brothers were dirt-poor, so we had to do the work ourselves. In the end, when the jetty was finished, two lives were lost." Wu Sanye, now wearing a faint smile, stretched out a hand toward the distant jetty and began to tell a story.

"Later, after we started doing some salt business, Gui Liu'er from Seventeen-Li Bridge got jealous and brought his men for a gang fight. In that battle, we lost three more brothers." Wu Sanye turned his head and glanced at Du Yaren. "You were the one who came to mediate afterward."

"Mm, that did happen." Du Yaren nodded.

As if he hadn't heard, Wu Sanye continued: "Over the years, for the sake of business, I've lost count of how many fights, big and small, we've been in. The wild grassy flats are honestly filled with the buried corpses of quite a few brothers."

"Nowadays, life is good, and business is increasingly thriving. Why, just last month we bought twenty cartloads of gravel to pave the ground."

At this point, Wu Sanye could no longer conceal his fury. He abruptly spun around, stared at Du Yaren with eyes full of rage, and said through gritted teeth: "I don't care about any damn Master Xiong or General Xiong! Whoever sets their sights on Zhang Sutan is a mortal enemy to me and mine!"

With a "Clang!", Third Lord and his men drew their steel knives in unison: "Scram back and tell that surname Xiong not to go getting any foolish ideas about us! Beware — my steel knife doesn't have eyes!"

... Looking at Wu Sanye's bloodshot eyes, Du Yaren reached out and slowly pushed aside the steel knife blocking his way. Then he gave a dry laugh, cupped his hands and fist in salute, and said: "In that case, Du takes his leave."

After saying this, Du Yaren left the grass hut with his attendant.

Not far into the wild grassland, a horse cart was waiting. Once the two men boarded the cart, Du Yaren dropped his earlier demeanor and quickly put on a helpless, smiling face: "Brother Qingyun, as you just saw, this Wu Meng is impervious to both soft and hard approaches."

The young attendant nodded and said to him with a smile: "Yes, Lord Du, you did your best. I saw it all."

"Ah, stubborn and unrepentant..." Du Yaren said with feigned anger. "I wonder what Master Xiong's plan is. He ought to have the authorities step in and teach that wretch a harsh lesson to vent his spleen."

Du Yaren looked up at Brother Qingyun as he spoke. To his disappointment, however, the man not only said nothing, but was also staring at him with a faint, ambiguous smile. Only after a long while did Brother Qingyun turn his head and utter a single sentence: "There are plenty of methods. Just wait for word."

After the horse cart had traveled a stretch through the wild grassland, a marshy hollow lay ahead. At this point, the young man jumped off the cart and boarded another horse cart waiting there.

The driver of the second cart did not urge the horse onward, but remained in place. After a while, once Du Yaren's cart had gone far, the young man inside the cart had already re-holstered his pistol at his waist. Then he picked up the walkie-talkie and began to call: "This is Liu Qingyun, calling Gu Le."

Soon, a reply came through the walkie-talkie: "Gu Le receiving, go ahead."

"Execute Plan No. 2. Repeat, Plan No. 2."

"Gu Le understood: Plan No. 2."