Chapter 163: Jiangnan

A two-masted sand junk sailed through the vast, dim night. The few sailors on watch up on deck lounged idly, some sitting, some standing. The lower hold was silent too — the passengers were all resting. Only the creaking of the mast remained.

"We're here! We're here!" An excited voice suddenly rang out from the bow. The men on watch all jumped in alarm, grabbing their weapons and leaping up. Once they saw clearly it was that Chen Tingdong, they cursed a few times and sat back down.

Chen Xin's party had taken a sea junk south from Weihai. Traveling with him were Liu Minyou, Song Wenxian, Zhou Laifu, and others, plus the Jiangnan native Chen Tingdong. He was from Nantongzhou — in the Ming dynasty there was a Tongzhou in both the north and the south; this southern Tongzhou is the later city of Nantong. Later people would say "north and south Tongzhou connect north and south," but in fact the southern Tongzhou was not on the Grand Canal.

This Nantongzhou Provincial Graduate who had spent his entire family fortune had a fiery temper. After following the Wendeng Battalion to Yongping, he volunteered to bury the martyred commoners outside Yongping city. When he discovered the corpses were being stolen, he repeatedly cursed out the Guanning Army to their faces. Had the Wendeng Battalion not protected him, his head would likely have been displayed at the Ministry of War for merit verification by now.

By the time the Four Cities campaign ended, Chen Tingdong's silver was completely spent. The more than a thousand civilian braves he had originally recruited had finally all fled and scattered. In the end, only twenty-some remained — men with no livelihood and nowhere to go. Chen Tingdong was much the same as them. Seeing that the Wendeng Battalion did not kill innocents to claim merit and even buried the common folk, he rather brazenly led these men to Wendeng.

This man was loyal to the sovereign and loved his country, yet he also loved to loudly curse court politics everywhere he went. Chen Xin dared not assign him to the army or the school, so he temporarily placed him in Liu Minyou's civil administration system. There, Chen Tingdong did some work clearing wasteland and did it with great relish. This time, when Chen Xin traveled to Jiangnan on business, he brought this Southern Metropolitan Region native along as a guide.

Chen Tingdong's bout of shouting had disturbed the people in the lower hold. After a moment, the thud of footsteps sounded, and several people came up to the deck.

"General Chen, over there is Jiangnan." Seeing Chen Xin come up, Chen Tingdong pointed in that direction and said loudly from the bow. This rough, stout Provincial Graduate, utterly careless about his appearance, was dressed in a short jacket. Tossed ashore, he would look exactly like a porter.

Chen Xin followed the direction of his finger and looked at a bright firelight in the distance, strikingly conspicuous in the night.

Chen Tingdong said, with a touch of showing off, "The place with the light is Liujiagang. It was built here in the Yongle reign by Chen Xuan — just a large earthen mound, a hundred zhang square and over thirty zhang high. By day they raise smoke, by night they light a fire, so that sea ships do not lose their way. The Chengzu Emperor named it Baoshan."

Liu Minyou had also reached the bow by now. Hearing this, he asked, "So this means it's the mouth of the Yangtze River?"

Chen Tingdong laughed heartily. "Indeed. This Liujiagang was extremely prosperous during the Song and Yuan dynasties. The harbor area where ships anchored stretched for over sixty li. Since the Grand Canal was fully dredged in our dynasty, this place has declined. But this Baoshan has saved the lives of countless seafarers — truly a boundless merit." The Liujiagang Chen Tingdong spoke of, on the north bank of the Yangtze, was once the largest seagoing ship port in East Asia. After the Ming dynasty's maritime ban, Liujiagang also slowly declined. It was not until the twenty-third year of the Kangxi reign of the Manchu Qing that north-south sea transport was reopened, and the gathering place for sea ships shifted to Wusongkou, laying the foundation for Shanghai's later status.

Zhou Laifu clicked his tongue. "A harbor area that large — how many ships would it hold?"

Chen Tingdong opened his mouth. How could he know how many ships anchored there during the Song and Yuan? But he cared greatly about face, so he forced himself to answer, "Thousands upon thousands."

Zhou Laifu asked again, "Why are there fewer sea ships now than in the Yuan dynasty?"

Chen Tingdong loudly retorted, "Nonsense! In the Yuan dynasty the Grand Canal was not fully completed, so naturally they had to use sea transport. So what if there were more? We Han people were all slaves to the barbarian caitiffs. How can those savage tribes be mentioned in the same breath as our dynasty?"

Zhou Laifu, having been a shopkeeper for three years, now had a different breadth of experience and bearing. He chuckled at this and did not further provoke this easily agitated big man.

Chen Tingdong was still indignant on his own and continued loudly, "Ever since the Five Barbarians threw China into chaos and the Jin court crossed south with their caps and robes, then later the An-Shi Rebellion and the Song court's move south — Jiangnan has gathered the finest of human culture and become the true orthodox line of our Huaxia. To think it fell to the northern barbarian caitiffs, the land overrun with the stench of mutton. Do we dignified Han people feel no shame? Even if they had tens of thousands of ships, what benefit would it be to me?" …

His tone suddenly rose much higher. "Every time I think of Yashan, I, this old man, hate the barbarian caitiffs to the bone. Fortunate it was that our dynasty's Great Ancestor rose between the Yangtze and Huai rivers, drove out the Tatar caitiffs, and accomplished the feat of the Northern Expedition. I only regret I was born at the wrong time and could not personally witness our Han armored cavalry retake Yan and Yun — this is one regret. Therefore, though the Jianzhou Bandits are but a skin disease, I too must spend my entire family fortune and resist them to the death."

Chen Xin turned his head to look at Chen Tingdong. He could faintly make out his teeth-gritting expression. This was a man who took pride in culture yet was utterly careless about his appearance. With his temperament, he would absolutely never become a slave to a fallen nation. One could well imagine that in the original history, after the seventeenth year of Chongzhen, he was surely fated to die in some anti-Qing uprising in Jiangnan.

Chen Tingdong's tone dropped as he gazed toward the shore. "Our Great Ming has lasted over two hundred years. Jiangnan has today's prosperity again…"

Liu Minyou quietly watched that ball of firelight and said nothing.

Afraid Chen Tingdong would continue getting worked up, Chen Xin changed the subject and asked him, "Jianyong, we're about to enter the Yangtze. Where would be suitable for us to disembark?"

"Going west to Jinling, there are ports everywhere along the way. If you want somewhere closer, within a hundred and twenty li around Jinling, from Zhenjiang to Longjiang, the docks are spread all over. You can stop anywhere."

Song Wenxian interjected, "So that means there are many rivers near Nanjing?"

"Brother Song has always been in the north; I fear you've never seen so many rivers. Nanjing's position as the foremost city of the southeast is not without reason. Apart from its strategic terrain like a crouching tiger and coiling dragon, the dense network of waterways nearby is also one of the causes. In the early dynasty, the various river channels and ports were dredged, adding even more convenience. Not far outside the Jiangdong Gate, Fengyi Gate, Sanshan Gate, Shicheng Gate, and Qingliang Gate there are ports. A bit farther out there is also Dasheng Port. On other waterways there are ports at Banqiao Town, Moling Town, and elsewhere. Over ten river channels converge nearby. Ten thousand ships gather from Huguang, Jiangxi, the Southern Metropolitan Region, and Zhejiang. Thus, since ancient times, among cities that have benefited from waterways, none is quite like Jinling."

Zhou Laifu clicked his tongue in admiration this time. "When we get there, I must have a good look."

Chen Xin smiled from the side. "You'll have plenty to see. We'll go ashore at the place closest to Nanjing."

Chen Tingdong replied, "That would be Shangxinhe outside the Jiangdong Gate, and also Longjiangguan — two places."

By now it was approaching dawn. None of the few men went back to the hold; they chatted casually on deck. After daybreak, Hai Gouzi and the other personal guards also came up on deck. The simple monk looked at the sails coming and going on the water and said in surprise, "Hey, how come there are more boats?"

Song Wenxian turned and teased him, "Fat monk, this is the Yangtze River. Naturally there are more than on the sea."

"What's a river?"

"A big stream."

The simple monk rubbed his bald head, looked around left and right, and only after a long while said, "My mother… how come I can't even see the riverbanks? There's such a big stream."

Several days later, Chen Xin led the way off the ship. Nie Hong and the others behind him followed down, looking around curiously. The dock was filled everywhere with the soft, gentle accents of the Wu region.

This place was called Longtan. Not far across the river was Guabu in Yangzhou Prefecture — that is, Guazhou Crossing, one of the two important ferry crossings on the Yangtze near Nanjing. There was also one of the channels entering the Grand Canal there. Some of the tribute grain boats drifting down from Huguang and Jiangxi entered the canal from this spot.

After they stopped at Longtan, the wind on the river had been contrary. This place was already very close to Nanjing, and Chen Xin did not want to delay. He left the sand junk behind, instructing them to buy a batch of southern goods at Longtan and then return directly to Weihai. After resting one night at Longtan, they hired horse carts the next day and hurried toward Nanjing.

After the few horse carts left Longtan, the scenery along the way slowly changed. The farmland on both sides was thickly planted with mulberry trees and cotton. It was August, the blooming season for cotton in the middle and lower Yangtze, and the cotton fields were covered with star-like white blossoms. In the mulberry groves, countless farmers were picking mulberry leaves. Interspersed among these cash crops were a small number of rice paddies. Beyond these few main crops, they had also planted many fruit trees wherever there was space, such as on the field ridges — the most common being orange trees, their branches laden with golden fruit, also reaching the ripening season.

The common people they saw along the way were mostly not poorly dressed. There were also more women walking on the roads than in the north, and quite a few boldly sized them up. Perhaps because of economic comfort, the common people seemed to possess a more confident bearing than those in the north.

Liu Minyou, Chen Xin, Song Wenxian, and Chen Tingdong shared one cart. After watching for a while, Liu Minyou turned and asked Chen Tingdong, "Brother Jianyong, why does Jiangnan grow so much cotton and mulberry?"

Chen Tingdong wagged his head. "Around Yingtian it's actually relatively little. Songjiang, Huzhou, Jiaxing, and other places have even more. Jiangnan benefits from the loom and spinning wheel. Even the humblest commoner can profit from silkworms, mulberry, silk, and cotton far more than from farming. Therefore, everyone abandons the root to chase the branch. The former key grain-producing region now cannot supply even one-tenth of its own needs. The rest must be shipped in from Huguang and Jiangxi. During the two harvest seasons each year, grain boats on every river are endless on the routes."

Song Wenxian also said, "Other areas of Shandong are actually much the same. Mr. Liu has not been to Yanzhou and Eastern Depot — they are likewise planted everywhere with cotton. The profit indeed far exceeds wheat and millet. For a single household, a single village, or a single stockade, this can be done. But for the ten thousand people of our Wendeng Battalion, it cannot be so. The northern lands have been increasingly dry and rainless this year. Once famine comes, this cotton cannot be eaten. To then have to rely on merchants for food is not what a wise man would do."

Liu Minyou nodded. "Mr. Song speaks reason. That is why when land was distributed, every settlement household was required to plant wheat. There are also requirements for the area of intercropping, to prevent those farming households from exploiting loopholes."

Chen Xin listened quietly to the others talking, his eyes watching a cowherd boy riding an ox in the distance. The boy was swaying on the ox's back, singing. Jiangnan had more oxen than he had imagined; even many travelers rode oxen and donkeys. But the scarcity of grain fields in Jiangnan also surprised him greatly. The so-called land of fish and rice had now mostly turned into cash crops. Jiangnan silk and cotton sold in huge volumes and brought relatively high profits. Both cultivation and manufacturing had great added value. Market forces had caused the regional economic structure to diverge, leading to what Chen Tingdong described as everyone in Jiangnan abandoning the root to chase the branch.

Just then, the horse cart crossed a wooden bridge. Hai Gouzi on the cart behind shouted out in excitement. Liu Minyou turned his head to look. In the river beside them were several small bamboo rafts. Fishermen, poling with bamboo poles, were slowly gliding along. Perched on the rafts were several sharp-beaked cormorants. The river water was so clear you could see the bottom, and you could see fish after fish swimming.

A fisherman waved his bamboo pole, and several cormorants dove into the water. The water churned with a flurry of splashes. You could see the cormorants darting swiftly through the clear river water. When they surfaced again, their beaks and necks were bulging. One still had a wriggling fish tail protruding from its mouth.

The fisherman extended his bamboo pole, lifted the cormorant onto the raft, held a bamboo basket to the cormorant's beak, and squeezed its neck with his hand. A fish fell into the bamboo basket. The fisherman covered the basket and hung it on the side of the fishing boat, half submerged in the water. The cormorant then began its next catch.

Hai Gouzi and the simple monk laughed heartily at the sight. Liu Minyou had never seen a cormorant before. He watched with great interest and asked, somewhat puzzled, "Why is this cormorant so obedient? It catches a fish in its mouth but doesn't swallow it?"

Chen Tingdong explained, "A string is tied around its neck. It can't swallow."

Zhou Laifu also laughed heartily at the sight. "Amusing! Amusing!"

Chen Xin had seen cormorant performances before and was not particularly surprised. Seeing they liked it, he had the horse cart stop. Hai Gouzi got off the cart and, shouting excitedly, helped the fisherman point out schools of fish.

Liu Minyou turned to Chen Xin and smiled. "Jiangnan is truly delightful."