Chapter 1102: This Journey to Liaodong

"It's not that I won't let you work for me, nor that I won't grant you freedom — but you'll have to trade for it with something I want," Zhao Jin answered me calmly.

"And what is it that you want?"

"What I want are better cannons and machinery, and more foreign craftsmen." He swept another cold glance over me. "Of course, I already have more than enough pure missionaries here. I no longer need any of those."

Zhao Jin's attitude gave me a sense of new hope, yet it also left me embarrassed and troubled. I could only bow once more and answer him respectfully.

"Honorable Lord Zhao Jin, neither my companions nor I understand the things you need, and without freedom, we have no way to go and seek them for you."

"If you have any leads or methods for finding them, tell the people here. That will also count toward your merit. The more you tell, the more you do, the faster you'll get what you want." Zhao Jin gave not an inch as he laid out his terms.

Although I could understand Zhao Jin's words, Louis, who had hurried over, still translated them into Spanish in order to demonstrate his importance.

I was somewhat disappointed.

He only wanted our things, yet refused to accept anything we offered him.

No... we came precisely to spread the glory of the Lord. If they do not accept the Lord, then what meaning is there even if our relationship with him is good?

With such thoughts, after a moment of silence, I finally steeled myself and offered him a small act of defiance. "Honorable Lord, such conduct is beneath your dignity and station. We came here to spread glory, bearing no ill will whatsoever. We..."

"Here, I am the only one qualified to set terms. If you wish to achieve anything, you had best fulfill what I require. Only then can we continue this discussion." A smile appeared on Zhao Jin's face, but he cut me off, brooking no argument.

It seemed he had no desire to speak with me any further.

After he finished speaking, he waved his hand, and those tough, brawny personal guards stepped forward, flanking me and preparing to take me away.

I felt no anger, nor did I make any irrational struggle. At this point, I could only face reality — Zhao Jin was far more unyielding than I had imagined, and he had not the slightest interest in the Lord.

But I was not discouraged. No matter how many trials the Lord sends me, I will never doubt my mission. Though the present setback is painful, it cannot break me.

I obediently followed those guards out of the workshop, then regretfully returned among my colleagues, who were full of eager anticipation, and reported to them the conversation I had just had with Zhao Jin.

Clam Port had elevated the Yu family's standing in Songjiang and at sea by a full notch. If they could also secure that expanded port at Haizhou, the salt cargo loaded there could be doubled in volume, and using it as a way station, the Yu family's status in Jiangnan would soar even higher.

Because the Yu family fleet had tasted such sweet profit from this port, they did not want to share it with anyone else. The Cai family members and apprentice soldiers whom the Zhao Battalion had assigned to learn navigation and seamanship could learn very little. Although Yu Zhiyuan stressed the matter several times, he was, after all, not the one doing the work on the ground. Everyone tacitly went through the motions without putting in real effort, treating the Cai people and apprentice soldiers merely as free deckhands. Behind their backs, they even made snide remarks, saying that hired boatmen and sailors only needed to be fed — if they drowned, so be it — but these fellows from Xuzhou had to be carefully looked after.

In the middle of the third month, the Yu family's four sand junks set sail for Liaodong. No matter how many petty maneuvers went on below decks, they dared not renege on what they had promised Zhao Jin.

With Liaodong refugees serving as guides, the sand junks did not sail blindly toward the Liaodong coastline. This time there were several destinations. One was Lüshun in Jinzhou, where a remnant Ming force still held out and was currently locked in a standoff with the Jianzhou Jurchen troops. Many Liaodong refugees had gone there to seek shelter.

The refugees at this location were of no help whatsoever to the remnant Ming army — they were instead an enormous burden. If someone was willing to take them in, that would naturally be best. Those refugees also lacked the resolve and courage to stay and fight the Jurchens to the death.

The other destinations were the islands around Liaodong. The Jianzhou Jurchens had little naval capability, and since the Ming army had taken vast numbers of vessels with them when they fled, the Jurchens had no way to cross the sea at all. On these Liaodong islands, too, there were many Liaodong refugees in hiding, and these people would likewise accept resettlement.

Of course, this trip was merely to scout the route. Half the berths on the Yu family's four ships were occupied by Zhao Battalion personnel — all fully armed elite household troops. The difficulties could be anticipated in advance. A few ships like these going to gather refugees — the desperate, struggling deserters and civilians of Liaodong would not perceive this as any act of mercy. Instead, they would see the ships as fat sheep to be taken. Their first thought would not be gratitude, but seizing the vessels to flee for their own lives.

The fully armed household troops were there precisely to guard against this. Whoever dared try it would be taught the rules with blades and firearms.

Over in Dengzhou Prefecture, Liaodong refugees had already arrived aboard ships. Those with status and property would naturally not be recruited, but they had heard quite a bit about the prosperity and wealth of Qingjiangpu, and people had also told them of the peace and flourishing of Xuzhou and Pizhou. Relocating there was a good choice for them. For the refugees, simply making it from Liaodong to Shandong was already no easy feat — they had little room to be choosy.

Even those who still harbored illusions about Dengzhou Prefecture could not withstand the personal testimony of their fellow townsmen, who told of the discrimination and shabby treatment here, and spoke of how in Xuzhou and Shandong there were places to settle down and make a living, where they would be treated fairly and given a plot of land. If they worked hard, they would have food and warmth; if they had a trade, they could even become well-off.

Everyone knew there were smooth-tongued sorts who swindled their countrymen, but the people who came to give personal testimony dared to swear the most terrible oaths — the kind calling for the extinction of their family line. Moreover, those who came to speak were all people with roots and reputations in Liaodong. At a time like this, faced with persuasion of this intensity, people could only believe them.

Anyone paying even slight attention to what was happening in Dengzhou Prefecture and elsewhere would realize that the influx of Liaodong refugees into Shandong and the northern part of South Zhili was about to surge. These years, Shandong had suffered disaster after disaster — natural calamities and great chaos. Who knew how many had died. The Great Ming simply had too many people; those who died would gradually be replaced by refugees from Liaodong. Only, those people back then had been subjects of the Great Ming, whereas now they would be Zhao Jin's people.

With large numbers of Liaodong refugees pouring in, these people would have no one else to rely on and could only cling wholeheartedly to Zhao Jin. In the past, within Zhao Jin's sphere of influence in Xuzhou, many matters still had to depend on the locals. Even tenant farmers and rural households who had migrated from elsewhere knew where their homes were and knew they could return.

Under those circumstances, a certain degree of compromise had to be reached with the local populace — even though, in the eyes of people everywhere, that compromise was nothing but naked oppression. But the Liaodong refugees were different. They knew their homes were in Liaodong, yet they did not know whether they could ever go back. Perhaps there was a chance the Great Ming might retake Liaodong, but as things stood now, that chance seemed pitifully small. They had no choice but to cling to Zhao Jin and pledge their loyalty wholeheartedly.

The more Liaodong refugees were taken in, the fewer compromises the locals within the Zhao Battalion's sphere of influence would receive. At present, there seemed to be no possibility whatsoever of this trend reversing.

To many, the situation was this dire, yet all the gentry, powerful families, and prominent figures everywhere who were qualified to exchange words with the Zhao Battalion paid it no mind. By the third month, the matter that concerned them most was Mu Shulan's delivery.

No one cared whether Mu Shulan gave birth to a boy or a girl. What everyone cared about was that this event would allow them to go offer congratulations and deliver gifts. This joyous occasion would let them draw closer to Zhao Jin and the various parties in Xuzhou, let them network and discuss business with people from other places, and for a few with guilty consciences, let them gauge their own family's standing within the Zhao Battalion.

Everyone knew that the Zhao Battalion paid little mind to ceremonies and celebrations. Who was invited and who was not might not reflect any particular intent — it could simply be a matter of convenience. Yet being invited or not directly affected the relevant parties' local standing. On a few previous occasions, for some who were not invited, their enemies and rivals had come straight to their doors. Those who had no real qualification yet received an invitation immediately became influential locally, with everyone having to show them face.

Not to mention that many people now relied on the Zhao Battalion to make their fortunes. The distribution of salt goods and the retail of liquor alone brought considerable income to many. They absolutely could not afford to lose their share because they failed to attend. Everyone was intensely anxious about it.

Although the matter of holding the ceremony was still entirely up in the air, countless people had already sent word through connections and personal ties — they absolutely had to have an invitation, and were even willing to make concessions on local and business interests.

"Big Brother, a scene like this is proof that our Zhao Battalion is thriving day by day, with everyone bowing their heads in submission. Yet it is also proof that our Zhao Battalion has not yet achieved total control. If we truly held everything firmly in our grasp, how could so many people come seeking to attach themselves? Big Brother's status is so exalted — how can others be allowed to casually cling to it?" Wang Zhaojing had his own view of this bustling spectacle.

"You're not wrong, but right now we can't set ourselves too high. If the Liaodong refugees can keep flowing in steadily, then in another year or two, when something like this happens again, it won't be nearly so lively," Zhao Jin replied with a smile.

Ruhui was also present on such occasions, but compared to the ease of Wang Zhaojing and Zhao Jin, he had worn very few smiles these days.

"... We have to wait for the first harvest from the farmsteads to come in..." No matter who asked him, Ruhui gave this same answer.

The many refugee farming households settled last year — their farmsteads had yet to produce anything. Like the Liaodong refugees arriving in an endless stream, they were all consuming the grain and supplies the Zhao Battalion had stockpiled. On top of that, the migration and resettlement also required enormous expenditures. Watching the numbers on the ledgers plummet, Ruhui truly could not smile.

If not for the enormous profits from liquor, and if not for the vast quantities of grain embezzled and squeezed from the canal transport that needed to be sold for cash, the Zhao Battalion likely would no longer be able to hold on.

"Farming the land is, at best, a matter of stability. Rather than saying it's for harvesting grain, it's better to say it's for sustaining people. If you want to generate explosive profits, you still have to set your sights on industry and commerce." Ruhui was increasingly given to such reflections.

Thanks to "Black Water Old Demon, Twilight Cry, Sui Xin Zi Wo 0" and a few other old friends for their tips. Thank you all for your subscriptions and monthly tickets. Thank you, everyone.