Chapter 1157: Zhao Jin Arrives

Never mind causing trouble in Qingjiangpu — even in some ordinary rural walled village, once they shut the gates and the village braves and able-bodied men assembled, no matter how great your martial skill, you'd find it hard to escape their blades. Some laughed and agreed, but there were those long accustomed to throwing their weight around. Hearing this, they simply stiffened their necks and declared, "When your grandpa draws a blade on the streets of Nanjing, no one dares interfere. How can this backwater of yours have so many rules?"

Among the scions of noble houses, trusted eunuchs, and officials' families inside Nanjing, there were indeed plenty of lawless characters — that claim wasn't exactly wrong. But those who let loose such arrogant talk, or harbored such insolent thoughts, promptly received a lesson, or witnessed one firsthand. The nephew of a certain count in Nanjing, quarreling over a woman's favor in a pleasure house, drew a blade. Though no one died, blood was spilled. The entire establishment was so terrified that everyone scattered and fled, and the managers hurriedly called for the patrolmen.

With no death involved, the matter would normally be handled with nothing more than a beating or a fine. But this count's nephew was used to running rampant in Nanjing and had downed a few extra cups of wine. Feigning drunken madness, he stood his ground against the patrolmen, surrounded by his arrogant servants. The servants at least knew enough to announce their powerful patron's background, but the patrolmen cared nothing for some Nanjing count. They directly ordered them to lay down their arms and surrender. This sent the count's party into a fury. Cursing and swearing, they said, "So what if we hack apart a few low-born mongrels like you?" — and then drew their blades and brandished them.

The patrolmen used their long spears directly, thrusting down without the slightest mercy. After that, the corpses of the count's nephew and his servants were incinerated at the burning ground outside Qingjiangpu. Their ashes were placed in boxes to await their families coming to redeem them. This news spread through all of Qingjiangpu at lightning speed. The originally arrogant and imperious characters all became obedient. After all, Qingjiangpu wouldn't use a count's own nephew just to kill a chicken to scare the monkeys.

On the tenth day of the twelfth month, the normally quiet and desolate docks of Qingjiangpu bustled with activity. Yet the bustle was not from loading or unloading cargo, but because the very wealthiest and most eminent figures of Qingjiangpu had all gathered here. These great merchants and gentry, who normally traveled with crowds of attendants before and behind, were now all assembled in a crude, simple tea shed, conversing with one another in low voices. Their retinues, carriages, and horses were all parked far off.

This tea shed was a place that served laborers and common travelers. Conditions were hardly worth mentioning — open to the wind on all sides, with broken tables and chairs. No one so much as touched the tea on the tables. At the sight of the coarse, chipped pottery tea bowls, everyone frowned. The wealthy merchants and nobles would not drink it. But that didn't mean no one in the tea shed touched the stuff. Someone was gulping it down, not caring in the slightest.

The one who cared not a whit was on the other side of the tea shed. Inside, the shed was now split into two clearly distinct groups. On one side were the local wealthy merchants and gentry; on the other, martial artists in all manner of attire. These practitioners of the martial arts, regardless of age or dress, all shared one common trait — they all looked formidable. There were no slender builds; they were either robust or stout and large. The few who appeared lean still gave off a palpable sense of power. Every one of them was highly alert, ready to react at any moment.

Some of these martial artists were dressed plainly, looking little different from common laborers — they were the ones drinking the tea. Others wore silks and satins and appeared quite wealthy, yet compared to the group of rich merchants and gentry, they somehow looked out of place, neither fish nor fowl. There were also a few whose attire could only be described as proper and unremarkable, but compared to their companions beside them, and even compared to the wealthy and eminent of Qingjiangpu, they possessed an extra measure of calm and composure. Anyone with a discerning eye could judge at once: these men surely came from households of immense wealth and rank.

"... Have you heard this news? They say Xuzhou has a secret method for producing cloth. With the same labor, where Songjiang and other places can produce one foot of cloth, Xuzhou can produce eight or even twelve feet. No wonder those Songjiang people are pressing prices so ruthlessly, yet Xuzhou is still holding steady..."

"... People who've been there say that both Xuzhou and Jining have huge weaving workshops. Looking at the weavers going in and out, there's no way they could weave that much. But someone bribed a weaver, who said there are several areas inside kept under strict guard, just like the old rules at the Xuzhou distillery..."

"... Keep your voice down. Daring to pry into the affairs of that demon king of Xuzhou — are you tired of living?..."

Once the wealthy merchants and gentry gathered together, they began discussing things incessantly, making the tea shed quite noisy. This drew constant glances from the martial artists on the other side, who remained very silent, afraid that talking or laughing might breach some rule. They never imagined these rich and eminent figures would be so unconcerned, chattering away like a flock of village women. Shouldn't such personages have some sense of decorum? Any one of them, picked at random, could force the great clans of any region to bow their heads — how could they be so lacking in refinement?

Even the few martial artists from high-ranking families wore expressions of astonishment and bewilderment. They had seen plenty of how wealthy and eminent figures comported themselves. The merchant circles of Qingjiangpu had been established for two hundred years; they had long since shed any nouveau riche habits and modeled themselves in every way after noble and high official households. How could they be so unrefined? Looking more closely, one could also see that while some of the wealthy merchants remained composed, others were clearly flustered and uneasy, as if all this talk was merely a way to distract themselves.

"... Was Xuzhou actually harmed by those floods or not? I heard Xuzhou was flooded, Pizhou was flooded, even their estate at the Wild Grass Flats — that so-called Huaian North District — was flooded. Yet you can't see any sign of damage. Though Xuzhou does have some uncanny methods, the floods really did happen. Don't tell me they're just putting on a brave front..."

"... Their foundations are deep. Back when they smashed open so many great house estates, who knows how much gold and silver they plundered. And that Sniffing Incense Sect uprising last year — they probably made a huge fortune from that too. Besides, the territory he holds isn't limited to just Xuzhou..."

Someone was discussing this too, though not many chimed in. Yet quite a few people were listening with pricked ears, clearly very interested.

Just at that moment, someone came running over from the canal docks. Reaching the entrance of the tea shed, he gasped for breath and shouted, "Master Jin is about to cross the river!"

At this news, the tea shed erupted. Those who had been discussing stopped their discussions and began adjusting their clothes and bearing. Even the martial artists on the other side checked their own attire and appearance. An observant person would notice that among the martial artists, regardless of wealth or status, everyone's clothes were very neat and tidy — at the very least, washed and starched. One had to understand that while wealthy households paid attention to such things, many martial artists were quite slovenly. All of this was preparation made to welcome Zhao Jin.

The river channels from Xuzhou to Su County were frozen over, making travel by boat extremely inconvenient. So Zhao Jin and his party had traveled directly by land. However, upon reaching Qingjiangpu, they still had to cross the Grand Canal, which inevitably required large boats to ferry men and horses across. This took considerable time. Everyone emerged from the tea shed and went to wait at a spot two hundred paces from the dock. After standing in the cold wind for the better part of another hour, someone finally came to announce that Zhao Jin had come ashore and that everyone should go forward to welcome him.

Simply crossing the river by boat was quick, but Zhao Jin's procedure required the household guards to reach the opposite bank first. Only after roughly two hundred men had crossed would Zhao Jin himself come over. This naturally caused some delay. The wealthy merchants and gentry who had been buzzing with discussion in the tea shed now had no complaints whatsoever. But among the martial artists' contingent, someone couldn't resist making a snide remark: "Even when the prince of the commandery back in our parts travels, he doesn't put on such airs. Such a young man — what's he putting on such a grand show for?"

"Didn't they say he only holds the position of a village head? How can he put on such a grand display?"

"Afraid people will look down on him..."

Despite the sneering and mocking, everyone still stepped forward. Over there, the household guards had already mounted their horses. Someone raised the banner of the Zhao Character Camp, and they advanced toward the welcoming party. Although this escorting cavalry unit did not ride fast, every household guard wore armor, and their horses were covered with felt blankets. Long spears and long halberds were all held in hand. A single fully equipped rider carried considerable weight, let alone a force of two hundred riders directly. The momentum of their slow approach was rather astonishing — armor clanking, hoofbeats like thunder, making the very ground seem to tremble faintly.

The wealthy and eminent figures of Qingjiangpu held their breath and focused their minds. They had grown accustomed to displaying submission and awe before Zhao Jin. And the martial artists who had just moments ago harbored ridicule and discontent also fell silent. Quite a few even began glancing around nervously, their entire bodies tensing up, because these martial artists truly understood the might of these ironclad cavalrymen.

The wealthy and eminent of Qingjiangpu merely felt that the mounted escort guarding Zhao Jin had a terrifying momentum. To them, watching these ironclad mounted household guards was no different from watching horses galloping wildly down the street — they knew that standing in the way would get them trampled to death, and that was all. But for the martial artists, it was different. Whether or not they had experience fighting ironclad cavalry, relying on their instincts, they could also perceive the terror of these ironclad riders: the protection of the iron armor, the combined impact of man and horse, the thrusting of long weapons, the coordination of formations, and so on and so forth.

The martial artists all knew that when facing these ironclad cavalrymen, especially in open-field combat on flat ground, they themselves had not the slightest chance of victory. Even escape would be difficult. The only outcome would be slaughter. In the estates of the local regions, any household that could field a few dozen light cavalry could already run rampant. If one could field even three or five armored riders like these, even the local authorities would have to treat them with a measure of courtesy. And here, they had directly deployed two hundred riders.

Some things they could see clearly; other things they could only vaguely sense. For instance, the orderly formation of the mounted household guards escorting Zhao Jin. Such a formation seemed to represent not merely a fine spectacle, but something that embodied power itself.

The cavalry unit arrived before them just like that. The standard-bearer leading the unit raised the great banner, and the entire cavalry unit followed suit and halted. Having thundered forward, to brake so abruptly — many of the Qingjiangpu wealthy merchants subconsciously pulled out handkerchiefs, wanting to cover their mouths and noses against the dust, then sheepishly put them away. And among the martial artists, quite a few men's bodies trembled, subconsciously about to react.

"On this side are the notables of Qingjiangpu; on this side are the strong hands and elite participants of the martial tournament," reported a man from the Qingjiangpu local trade office.

Once this man finished his introduction, all those below bowed in unison with clasped hands and said, "We pay our respects to Master Jin."

Even the most unruly and untamable martial artists, having witnessed the imposing momentum of these mounted household guards, were now thoroughly convinced and submissive. They all followed suit in bowing and saluting. But they straightened up just as quickly, all wanting to see what sort of man Zhao Jin was. In their minds, with so many eminent merchants from great houses before him, Zhao Jin would surely have to dismount and return the courtesy — the one who dismounted would be Zhao Jin. They never expected that someone from the second row of the formation would come forward, lift his visor, and, still seated on his mount, cup his fist and say, "I have troubled you all to come so far to welcome me. Everyone has worked hard. Once Zhao has settled in, I will meet with you all again."

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