Chapter 1038: The Tian Brothers

Moreover, because of this great chaos, the imperial court was already planning to reduce or waive taxes for the three prefectures of Yanzhou, Jinan, and Dongchang. Once this measure was implemented, the local magnates and gentry would likely recover quickly and throw themselves even more actively into White Lotus matters, all ultimately aimed at targeting the Zhao Camp's estates.

Letter after letter explained the situation. Ma Chonghao was a man who could make his own decisions and act on them. He had also proposed a solution: kill the Venerable One leading the White Lotus, wipe out their Yizhou sect headquarters in one sweep, and that would settle it once and for all. His judgment matched Zhao Jin's own: the reason this rabble could act repeatedly in secret and never be stamped out was because they had a truly outstanding leader. With him there, he could constantly organize forces and launch new actions. Once this leader was dead and his core circle scattered, this rabble would completely collapse. The name and banner might remain, but they would fragment into individuals not worth mentioning.

The Venerable One of the Yizhou White Lotus was surnamed Tian and given name Zhu. The reason he was called Venerable One rather than Hierarch was that the name White Lotus was far too grand — even Xu Hongru and Wang Sen dared not presume to claim it. The reason this Venerable Tian Zhu had managed to build up such a vast operation was due to his family's legacy. The Tian family's way of doing things was quite interesting: in each generation, among several brothers, one would pursue the civil examinations for official rank, wealth, and glory, while another would operate within the sect — one in the open, one in the shadows, complementing each other. With the rank of licentiate, the officials dared not treat them too harshly, which could support many schemes. Likewise, with the sect behind them, there were people to handle the many things that could not see the light of day.

After several generations of this mutual support, the Tian family had become one of the major powers in Yizhou worth naming. This generation was even more extraordinary. Of the two Tian brothers, Tian Zhu's elder full brother Tian Long had passed the provincial examination and become a juren early on. With this juren's protection, the Tian family's operations grew even larger. It was precisely because of this juren that the Shandong Incense-Smelling Sect was quite wary of them. Otherwise, a mere White Lotus branch confined to the Yizhou and Fei County area would have been crushed and scattered like smoke long ago.

"... Neither of the Tian brothers can be left alive. Kill only the younger brother, and the elder will seek vengeance for his sibling. A wealthy juren of this stature is more than capable of stirring up storms in official circles... At present, there is a kind of tacit understanding between our Xuzhou and the imperial court, but once that understanding is broken by an external force, it will inevitably come to swords and blades..."

The opinion Ma Chonghao put forward was very simple: launch a surprise raid on Yizhou and exterminate the entire Tian family. The reason the Tian family dared stir up so much trouble with such impunity was simply these peaceful times. Everyone was under the court's jurisdiction, subjects of the Great Ming. No one dared to raise troops in open rebellion. Everyone could only operate within the bounds of the king's law, which meant settling things in the shadows — no different from the Incense-Smelling Sect's methods back in the day. Moreover, the Tian family's reliance also included official power. Having operated in Shandong for so long, they might not necessarily know any high officials, but the local functionaries were already entangled with their family root and branch. This was another layer of protection.

But no matter how secure they thought themselves, the Zhao Camp could simply drive straight in and strike, disregarding everything. No matter how cunning your schemes or shrewd your judgment, I will simply bring the blade down and end it once and for all.

"Old Ma is increasingly seeing himself as a member of the Zhao Camp." Seeing these letters, Zhao Jin smiled and remarked to his companions.

A crucial reason the Zhao Camp had been able to reach where it was today was precisely that it did not play by the current tacit rules and conventions. I have strength, so I will use that strength to its fullest. Whatever rules you have are useless. All schemes, stratagems, and tacit understandings — in the end, what decides victory or defeat is still silver, blades, and spears.

"Old Ma's method isn't wrong, but we ultimately have to be mindful of this juren. According to what Old Ma says, the Tian family should be living inside the city. If we send assassins and their defenses are tight, it will be very hard to succeed. If we just charge in with a surprise assault, killing a juren in broad daylight will inevitably shake all of Shandong. Even if the officials wanted to hold their noses and swallow it, they couldn't. Investigations, even troop deployments — there would be no end of troublesome loose ends." Wang Zhaojing offered his opinion with thorough consideration.

"The Tian family cannot be left alive. I want the territory we hold to stabilize as quickly as possible. We must cut the Gordian knot swiftly. The people must be killed, but as for how to act, we need to come up with a proper method." Zhao Jin gave his judgment in a deep voice.

After saying this, he noticed Wang Zhaojing's complexion was very poor. Zhao Jin knew why his face looked so dark and asked, "Have all the accounts from our various departments below been sorted out? You've been working hard these days!"

Wang Zhaojing subconsciously rubbed his eyes and said with a smile, "I haven't worked hard at all. It's just the subordinates below reporting their numbers, and I compile and verify them. Mister Cao, Mister Zhou, Erhong, and the others have all worked harder than me. The accounts from every department have been tallied, but we can only achieve rough accuracy. The numbers for the household troops and militia can be precise to within about ten men, but for the estate workers and tenant farmers below, there's likely a discrepancy of several thousand. Silver and goods won't be off. The rules for inventorying goods and accounts that you set, Big Brother, are well done. Mister Cao and Mister Zhou keep a tight watch, and the lads work diligently and carefully — there are no errors in this."

Even for an organization as powerful and efficient as the Zhao Camp, it was nearly impossible to thoroughly audit all controlled populations and properties across three prefectures within two months. Achieving the degree Wang Zhaojing described was already quite impressive. Zhao Jin did not demand more, merely nodding and saying, "With these numbers, the expansion and reorganization can truly proceed."

At this point, Zhao Jin smiled and said with emotion, "This Grand Canal is not only the lifeblood of the imperial court, but also the lifeblood of our Zhao Camp."

The remark seemed somewhat out of the blue. Wang Zhaojing paused briefly, then simply smiled and nodded.

Shandong had suffered many disasters since ancient times, and the Yizhou area had never seen truly good years either, yet it had never deteriorated to the point of utter despair. As the local natives put it: "just scraping by, neither dead nor alive."

The reason for this was simply geography. There were no rivers or waterways here to rely on; it was surrounded by mountains on three sides, and the only flat area bordered the Southern Metropolitan Region, yet it was not in the same province. Under such circumstances, Yizhou had become a forgotten corner of Shandong...

Without rivers or waterways, irrigation was naturally problematic. However, being relatively close to the sea, the rainfall barely sufficed, and there were large expanses of flat farmland. Defending the city was also passable. In earlier years, Yizhou had even had a princedom, and the prince had been a rare example of wisdom and virtue — he did not exploit the people much and even knew to invest in water conservancy projects. Unfortunately, he died young and without heirs. Still, because such a one had been here, the hands of the Prince of Lu and the Duke of Yansheng's estate could not reach in, allowing the local gentry and magnates to slowly grow powerful.

Because of this out-of-the-way, corner geography, the Shandong officialdom often could not spare much attention for this place either. As a result, the Prefect of Yizhou found his hands tied at every turn. If he wanted peace and stability, he could not stir up trouble; otherwise, all kinds of problems would come knocking, leaving him utterly harassed, possibly even incurring criminal charges and losing his post. There had been two or three men who had inexplicably lost their lives while serving as Prefect of Yizhou.

In this self-contained environment, the local gentry and magnates grew powerful, the mounted brigands grew powerful, and the sects grew powerful as well. They were all entangled with each other root and branch, dividing Yizhou among themselves and ruling over it. The common people all knew who their masters were, and the clerks and runners in the yamen also knew who truly gave the orders in Yizhou. Even if you were an imperial commissioner, if you came to Yizhou for a few years, you would eventually have to leave. Sooner or later, it would still be the locals' domain. So when it came to weighing choices and trade-offs, everyone understood perfectly well.

With the government powerless and the gentry dominant, one would think Yizhou should be more destitute than other parts of Shandong. Yet compared to most prefectures and counties in Shandong, though Yizhou was not much stronger, it was relatively more orderly. The reason was simple: elsewhere, everything was a complete mess, with no one looking after anyone else, but here, things could still be maintained. The gentry also needed each part to fulfill its proper function. For instance, the inspections at the city gates were fairly conscientious, the relay station's hospitality and supplies were reasonably well-managed, and even the tax grain delivered to the government offices was slightly more than elsewhere. It was just that those in the know understood this tax grain was actually meant to pay the salaries of everyone in the yamen — sons from every family were employed there, so it wouldn't do to treat them poorly. The strict inspections at the city gates were out of fear that mounted brigands might infiltrate the city to cause chaos. As for the relay station's hospitality and supplies, that was to ensure all parties received news promptly and quickly. If any official came investigating openly or secretly, the prefectural yamen might still be in the dark, but the various families within the prefecture would often already know everything.

It was already early August by the calendar, and a rare atmosphere of cheer had settled over Yizhou. They were going to celebrate this Mid-Autumn Festival properly. It was not that this year's harvest was sure to be good, but rather that the rest of Yanzhou Prefecture had been thrown into great chaos and ruin, with countless dead, while Yizhou had been untouched. This sense of relief was worth celebrating heartily. At this time, guests arrived at the relay station west of the city.

By the time the guests reached the relay station, the sky was already growing dark. At this hour, all four city gates of Yizhou were already closed. Unable to enter the city, they could only stay at the relay station or some other inn. The guests were four in number, all tough, capable-looking men in their early thirties, dressed as traveling merchants and riding horses. The relay station also accommodated civilian merchants and travelers; they were even happy to do so, because they could make money from such business.

However, once inside the relay station, these four traveling merchants directly revealed their identities. They were, in fact, four constables of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. One of them spoke with the pure official dialect of the capital, while the other three had local Shandong accents. Their commissions and waist tokens were genuine. The staff of the relay station had received far too many officials and runners; they could naturally recognize the official bearing of these four men. That kind of overbearing, imperious manner was not something the common folk could produce.

This was the Embroidered Uniform Guard. To news-starved commoners, it meant nothing, but to the well-informed staff of the relay station, it was utterly shocking. What were these constables doing in Yizhou? Who did they want to arrest, or what urgent business were they on? This information had to be pried out, and it had to be delivered to the relevant parties as quickly as possible. This was the true purpose of the relay station's existence.

Whatever they were thinking in their hearts, the relay station staff immediately fell over themselves with flattery and attentiveness. They slaughtered a chicken on the spot, butchered a goat, and scoured a nearby inn for two jars of Xuzhou spirits that were less watered-down than usual, managing to put together a lavish spread and send it up. The relay station even wanted to find a few decent-looking local prostitutes to serve them, but the constables did not let themselves go too far and flatly refused this. During the feast, they did not require the station staff to attend them either. Yet around the room where they were dining, six people were listening. There were several inconspicuous holes in the walls of that room, making it very easy to hear what was being said.

Thanks to "Sweet Sugarcane, User Dongfang, User Cold Night, Yuan Heng Li Zhen, Dragon King in the Wind," several old friends, for your tips. Thank you all for your subscriptions and monthly tickets. Three updates today!