Chapter 1115: Mao Wenlong

Ying Tiexiong's face instantly turned ugly, and he shot a vicious glare at Zhang Kai standing to the side — anyone could guess who had spilled those words.

Liu Yong rose from his seat and said, "First, come with me for a walk through the ship's hold. After that, I'll tell you what I want."

The request left Ying Tiexiong and Zhang Kai thoroughly confused, but on someone else's ship, with Pi Island too preoccupied to pay them any mind, whatever Liu Yong said, they could only obey.

The hold beneath the deck was crammed with supplies — grain, cloth, even ironware. Every kind of essential material for civilian life and military use was aboard in near-complete array.

After making that round and coming back up, Ying Tiexiong's and Zhang Kai's faces were already alight with excitement. Liu Yong led them over to the gunwale, pointed at the four ships around them, and said, "Take a look at the waterlines on these vessels. The supplies stowed inside them are even greater than what's on this ship."

Though the truth lay right before their eyes, Ying Tiexiong and Zhang Kai still leaned over the gunwale, straining to see as clearly as possible. Once they straightened up again, Ying Tiexiong's face was a mingling of fervor and trepidation.

"I want to use these supplies to do business with you. Have Mao Wenlong come and talk with me," Liu Yong said evenly.

At those words, Ying Tiexiong's expression shifted at once. He said coldly, "Marshal Mao's safety bears on the greater situation in Liaodong. How could he possibly come aboard this ship? What if you harbor ill intentions..."

"You have no choice. How many people starved to death on Pi Island this winter? How many full meals can you eat right now? Are your weapons fully outfitted? If I harbored ill intentions, word from Jinzhou and Lüshun would never have reached you, and I wouldn't be telling you this so plainly and directly. You may disembark now and go back to report. Mao Wenlong alone is permitted, with two guards and one sampan. If I see a second boat put to sea on these waters, we leave at once. If you doubt it, you're welcome to try!" Liu Yong raised his voice.

Those words made Ying Tiexiong's expression flicker through changes, but he dared say nothing more. In the end, he only managed to force out, "What have you people come here for?"

"We've come from Xuzhou, looking to do business with you," Liu Yong answered with a smile.

Ying Tiexiong was a man who understood things. Once the talk reached this point, he asked no further. He simply boarded the sampan again to return. Zhang Kai had wanted to go back with him but was refused by Ying Tiexiong. The reason he left him behind was simple: "You've rendered great merit in this Jinzhou affair. Since you've come aboard, there's no need to go back down."

Compared to Ying Tiexiong, Zhang Kai was clearly more brash and straightforward. As soon as Ying Tiexiong was on the sampan, Zhang Kai clasped his fists and implored, "Master Liu, whether it's Pi Island or Lüshun, everywhere is short of grain, short of iron, short of everything. Those merchants coming from Shandong and Joseon only have eyes for the ginseng and furs in our hands, and they drive the prices down low. We people of Pi Island have to risk our lives to get anything — we have to venture deep into trackless forests and mountains, and guard against the Tatars besides. Yet the mountain goods we scrape together through all that hardship won't even trade for a few full meals. Master Liu, your house is great and your enterprise vast — help our Pi Island, help the Great Ming common folk here."

At the words "ginseng and furs," Yu Dajiang, who had been standing by the whole time, felt his eyes light up. Li Yuliang, too, was mentally calculating what "ginseng" and "furs" would fetch in the interior. Taking tonics and medicines had become a settled custom among the wealthy and noble households of Great Ming, and ginseng was especially prized. Yet after the Liaodong war situation collapsed, the supply of ginseng was cut off, and prices had immediately begun to skyrocket.

It wasn't that there were no sources now. Dengzhou Prefecture in Shandong was one. Shanxi, it was said, could obtain ginseng from beyond the passes via the grasslands — that was another. And a portion still came directly from western Liaodong. No matter the source, there was always something murky about it, and in every case, it was impossible to disentangle from the Jianzhou Jurchens.

Faced with goods of such staggering profit, Liu Yong remained utterly impassive. Watching from the side, Li Yuliang felt his admiration grow. Zhao Jin and many of the men in the Zhao Battalion were not much older than himself, yet this depth of composure and shrewdness was something even his father's generation could not match.

"Ginseng and furs won't fill a man's belly," was all Liu Yong said.

The waiting at this moment was the most nerve-wracking. Every sailor aboard the fleet's five ships stood at full readiness. At the slightest sign of unusual movement from Pi Island, they would hoist sail and depart at once. Even the men Liu Yong had brought had their blades drawn, prepared for battle.

This time, however, the wait was not long. They could see a large group of people emerge from the encampment on Pi Island's shore, many of them carrying sampans on their shoulders. That made every man in the fleet go taut. But only three men boarded a sampan; the rest stood by on the shore, holding their sampans aloft and awaiting orders. Everyone watched as that three-man sampan rowed toward the ships.

When it drew near, they climbed the rope ladder let down over the gunwale and onto the deck. The first to come up was a guard. After swinging himself over the gunwale, he did not move inward but stood where he was and drew his blade. The man looked to be no slouch in skill; his exposed face and hands bore many scars, clearly the marks of a hundred battles. He did, however, offer an explanation for his wariness: "Gentlemen, do not misunderstand — but Marshal Mao's safety is paramount."

The second to board was Ying Tiexiong. He stood shoulder to shoulder with the first man, forming a narrow human wall. Should anyone try to move against Mao Wenlong, the two of them would block the way.

"If anything seems amiss here, boats from the shore will come racing over at once. These may be large ships, but with no wind at the moment, you might not outrun our rowboats!" Ying Tiexiong first issued a threat. Only when he saw that the guards beside Liu Yong had already withdrawn to a distance did he turn his head and call out.

Mao Wenlong's own skill was not poor. The support of his subordinates was merely for show. He too wore a blade and armor; if it came to a fight, Mao Wenlong would be no weakling.

Mao Wenlong was tall and lean, but the flesh of his face was somewhat slack — the look of a once-plump frame gone thin. A cloth was bound around his head, and the exposed hair at his temples was already graying. His whole appearance was haggard and weary.

Li Yuliang had been staring fixedly at Mao Wenlong. Linqing was a canal hub where all kinds of news circulated freely, and he had long heard of this Mao Wenlong, stranded alone on Pi Island and holding up Liaodong single-handedly. Now, seeing the man in person, his attention was naturally seized. Liu Yong, however, first glanced at Zhang Kai. Only after observing the shift in Zhang Kai's expression did he step forward, clasp his fists in salute, and say, "I pay my respects to Lord Mao."

Mao Wenlong had come aboard with curiosity and anticipation, and he too spotted at a glance Liu Yong, who stood at the center of the crowd. His first reaction was: how could this man be so young? Yet he did not neglect the proprieties. Clasping his fists in return, he said, "I pay my respects to Master Liu."

Liu Yong was a commoner without rank or title, while Mao Wenlong held the position of Regional Commander, a senior general. Within the interior of Great Ming, without the backing of the Zhao Battalion, a man like Liu Yong meeting such a figure would have to kowtow. And by ordinary reckoning, he would likely never have met the man in person at all. Yet here and now, Mao Wenlong was actually greeting him as an equal.

Such bearing could be taken as a sign that he paid no mind to petty formalities — or it could be taken as a sign that Mao Wenlong's present circumstances were so dire that he had to seize tightly onto whatever potential help Liu Yong might offer.

"Brother Yong, could this Mao Wenlong be a fake?" Li Yuliang, having caught onto something, whispered into Liu Yong's ear.

Liu Yong grinned and said, "A man who once knew glory and is now utterly beleaguered — there aren't that many of those."

In Xuzhou, Pizhou, and the Shandong region, the Zhao Battalion had altered the fates of so many. Countless gentry and local strongmen who had once known glory were now reduced to wretched straits under the Zhao Battalion's rule. Men like that, expressions like that — Liu Yong had seen plenty. Among the wealthy and powerful of the Liaodong military towns, there were those who had died for the dynasty in battle, but they were far too few. Most of those figures had fled into the interior. The only one who had stayed in the so-called "Dongjiang Garrison" to resist the Jurchens was this very Mao Wenlong. The officers and soldiers he had gathered around him were at most of Company Commander rank; the great majority came from the lowest ranks.

Moreover, Liu Yong had seen the change in Zhang Kai's expression. Had this been a fake, there would not have been that kind of heartfelt, earnest excitement and reverence.

Though the atmosphere between the two sides had eased somewhat, Mao Wenlong never strayed a single step from the gunwale. His two guards likewise held their positions on either flank, motionless, hands resting on their sword hilts.

"This general has heard from Tiexiong that these ships of yours are laden with grain, cloth, and other supplies that Pi Island urgently needs. Your esteemed side sent Zhang Kai back to report and seek aid, and now, out of righteous duty, you donate so many supplies. On behalf of the Great Ming soldiers fighting the Jin in Liaodong, and on behalf of Great Ming itself, this general thanks Master Liu." Mao Wenlong spoke with deep sincerity and solemnly bowed with clasped hands.

Li Yuliang was momentarily stunned. Donation? When had it become a donation? Yet Mao Wenlong, a man of Regional Commander rank, was performing such a solemn and earnest salute. And over these days of the voyage, he had heard Zhang Kai and the guides recount the sufferings of the Liaodong people, tell of how Mao Wenlong had fled to Pi Island with the remnants of his troops, how he had struggled to launch counterattacks, how he had fought the Tatar slaves to the death, and how dire Pi Island's privations were. Thinking of all this, Li Yuliang suddenly felt that giving Pi Island whatever supplies from the five ships they could spare wouldn't be such a bad thing.

On one hand, there was the righteous cause of resisting the Jin. On the other, the Zhao Battalion's future arrangements regarding Liaodong would have many places where they would need to rely heavily on this Mao Wenlong. Giving these five shiploads of supplies as a greeting gift would be quite fitting. And Li Yuliang had another consideration: at such a formal occasion, with the other party making such a declaration, wouldn't refusing make things terribly awkward?

"Who said anything about a donation? Has Lord Mao perhaps misunderstood something? I am here to do business," Liu Yong answered with a smile, his face utterly free of awkwardness.

Mao Wenlong paused, then said with a laugh, "So this official did misunderstand. My Pi Island is destitute in supplies. Only ginseng, furs, and mountain goods can fetch a price. Merchants from Shandong and even Jiangnan all come to buy. May I ask what Master Liu desires?"

Li Yuliang let out a breath inwardly and decided he had best stop making silent conjectures. It wouldn't be too late to analyze things after the two sides had finished talking.

"There are plenty of merchants from Shandong and Jiangnan. The Grand Coordinator of Dengzhou and Laizhou also provides military supplies for the Dongjiang Garrison. But count up all those officials and all those merchants — who among them can provide you, Lord Mao, with a steady, unending flow of supplies, with not a single loss in transit? Who can provide you, Lord Mao, with large quantities of fine weapons, instead of the junk rotting in the armories? Only I can," Liu Yong declared in a clear, ringing voice.

At these words, Mao Wenlong's expression did not change, but the faces of the other three men from Pi Island and Liaodong showed chagrin. Shandong had always maintained supplies for the remnants of the Liaodong government troops, yet the skimming was infuriating.

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