Chapter 1267: The Time Isn't Right Yet

No matter how much grain sat in the canal granaries, it had nothing to do with military provisions — touching it meant demanding the lives of the officials responsible. Never mind winning battles; they couldn't even be sure of keeping their posts. Everyone was curious how the Xuzhou troops had managed to cow those canal magnates. At the same time, the stability — or lack thereof — of military supplies and provisions was itself a factor in victory and defeat.

There was another thing everyone puzzled over: just how did the Zhao Family Army maintain its military discipline? The decay of discipline in the imperial court's forces was no secret. In peacetime garrison, they could still be restrained, but once battle came and soldiers were needed to fight and kill with their lives, you couldn't control them too tightly for fear of sparking mutiny, infighting, or hesitation in the ranks. Commanders often turned a blind eye, even indulged it. Yet the soldiers of the Xuzhou troops were all young men, at the age when hot blood runs strongest, and Xuzhou was hardly some rich and flourishing place — still, they enforced every order and prohibition, committing no offense against the people.

"... Before this old man saw your esteemed troops with his own eyes, I believed all soldiers under heaven were nothing but ruffians and bandits, that without the lure of wealth, women, and pleasure to drive them, there was simply no way to rouse their ferocity and bloodlust. Only after seeing your Xuzhou troops did I realize that the Yue Family Army of history was no mere fiction..."

Wang Zaijin had finally met Zhao Jin, and he could not help but voice the feelings in his heart.

The moment he saw Zhao Jin and his companions, even though Wang Zaijin had spent over thirty years navigating the treacherous waters of officialdom and had cultivated ample forbearance and depth, he still could not help but stare, dumbfounded. Just like everyone else who had met Zhao Jin for the first time, Wang Zaijin had never imagined Zhao Jin could be so young.

"The Great Ming's mandate is truly spent!" Wang Zaijin said with deep feeling. Had he met Zhao Jin the very day he was defeated and captured, Wang Zaijin would have sought death that very night, but after all this back and forth, his spirit was already broken.

By conventional judgment, anyone capable of building such a grand situation must be a man of deep schemes and far-reaching plans, someone who had devoted an entire lifetime of plotting to achieve such results. But these wildland heroes, after all, were weak in strength, lacking the vast resources of the court and government to support them, able to rely only on themselves and their followers. Even if they accomplished something, they would be worn out in mind and body, aging before their time and falling ill. Once they died of old age or sickness, their sons, nephews, and followers, lacking their rallying power and ability, would see the power and structure they had built collapse and scatter. The court and government could simply drag things out and win by waiting.

But Zhao Jin and his companions were all just past twenty. Their steady bearing made it clear they were no figureheads pushed to the front. So young and already having achieved so much — what would they become in a few more years? Likely they would only flourish further. And the Great Ming, these years, beset by troubles within and without, was sinking like the sun toward the western hills. Anyone even slightly clear-headed could see it.

"These past few days have been hard on you, Mister Wang. My sincere apologies." Hearing this opening, Wang Zaijin believed his judgment all the more deeply. A young man like this, yet so steady — that only added to his chances of success.

Though his mind was full of thoughts, Wang Zaijin did not know how to reply. He could not bring himself to bow and bend the knee, nor could he manage a few polite words. Yet he was the captured commander of a defeated army, and the other side had not tortured or mistreated him. Trying to put on an air of unyielding integrity felt awkward and embarrassing.

Zhao Jin paid no mind to Wang Zaijin's ensuing silence and came straight to the point: "Mister Wang, our army won too quickly. Even if word reaches the capital, I fear high and low alike may not be willing to believe it. Then, with all the bickering and stalling, who knows how long the delay will be. But if Mister Wang goes to the capital to deliver the news himself, the capital will believe it at once."

Wang Zaijin sat there, shaking his head with a bitter smile. As the Supreme Commander of the grand army, if he were the one to report its catastrophic defeat, indeed no one could doubt it.

"I will arrange carriages and horses to send Mister Wang back to the capital. Please have Mister Wang convey a message to the court. The army can march from Tianjin to the capital in four days at most. Right now, the forces of Xuanfu, Ji Garrison, the Capital Regiments, and all the various troops of Northern Zhili have already been smashed by our army. The capital no longer has sufficient strength to defend itself. Hoping to rely on walls and moats for cover is also impossible — my nearly one hundred cannons can always blast open a breach." Zhao Jin stated this calmly and matter-of-factly. The ease on Wang Zaijin's face faded bit by bit; he knew there was not a shred of falsehood in the other man's words.

"Mister Wang, I have now taken Tianjin, and all the grain stored outside the city has fallen into my hands. From Qingjiangpu to Jining, Jining to Linqing, Linqing to Tianjin — the entire canal transport route along this stretch is open and unimpeded. With grain in storage and the supply route under my control, my Zhao Family Army can advance or retreat without worry. That is to say, my Zhao Family Army can stay here as long as it pleases. Wouldn't you agree, Mister Wang?" Zhao Jin asked with a smile.

Wang Zaijin's expression gradually turned grave. Zhao Jin's words laid it out clearly: the Zhao Family Army held its own advance and retreat in its hands and could breach the capital at any moment. But if the other side truly intended to do that, they surely would not be stating what everyone already knew.

"If the capital is breached, the realm will surely be thrown into turmoil. The Mongols and Jurchens, watching with tiger-like avarice, will certainly seize the chance to press their advance, and the southwest will erupt into chaos once more. By then, I fear the places plunged into disorder will be far more than just these few. Such upheaval and chaos — you do not wish to see it, and neither do I. But I have mobilized my forces and led my army here; there is no principle by which I simply turn back. If you want me to withdraw, then send someone to talk!" Zhao Jin stated his purpose.

Hearing this, Wang Zaijin could not suppress a cold laugh. An expression of one who has set life and death aside surfaced on his face. Fixing his gaze on Zhao Jin, Wang Zaijin said, "Chieftain Zhao speaks so high-mindedly, as if for the great righteousness of all under heaven. In truth, your strength is insufficient — you are not yet able to swallow the realm. You still need to build up and gather strength. Once your power is sufficient, you will raise troops again and scheme for greater things, won't you!"

In the room, Ji Xiang's face had already turned cold, but Zhao Jin only laughed. Shaking his head, he said, "Mister Wang is quite right. What Mister Wang can see, I imagine many people under heaven can also see. At present, it is indeed not the right time to swallow the realm. I do not yet have sufficient manpower and financial resources. If I were to seize the realm now, it would bring about the calamity of war and upheaval, and draw the resentment of all under heaven upon me. After that, I'd be rushing everywhere to put out fires. Why suffer that misery..."

Wang Zaijin had not expected Zhao Jin to admit it so directly. After a moment of stunned surprise, he spoke with earnest gravity: "Chieftain Zhao, you are a young man of heroic talent who has momentarily taken the wrong path. There is still time to turn back and follow the good. The court is now in urgent need of capable men. If you are willing to submit, being enfeoffed as a marquis, appointed a general, even being granted land and made a king is not out of the question..."

Zhao Jin could not help but laugh aloud. Waving his hand, he said, "Mister Wang need not try to persuade me. Right now, I cannot swallow the realm, but I am more than capable of destroying a kingdom and killing its kings. I could wipe out this Zhu Ming and then calmly set about cleaning up the chaos. I do not wish to draw the resentment of all under heaven upon myself, but that does not mean I fear the resentment of all under heaven. It would simply take a few more years, that's all. This Zhao is still young — I can afford the time."

It seemed as if all the spirit and vigor Wang Zaijin possessed had been exhausted in that last defiant stand. His face now full of bitter misery, he sighed dejectedly and asked, "That being the case, why does Chieftain Zhao even wait for the court to sue for peace? Even if peace talks succeed, with indemnities and ceded territory, it would only be delaying things a few years. Once Chieftain Zhao has finished building up his strength, won't you just lead your troops back to attack? The outcome would still be the same."

"I once told Lord Zhao and Eunuch Cui — living a few more years is always a good thing. In those few years, perhaps one can find a way to rise up, or the greater situation might change. One must always seek a sliver of hope. If you do not wish to, this Zhao will not force the matter. The Zhao Family Army is right here, waiting for the court to come and fight to the death!" Zhao Jin said with a smile.

Such blunt honesty made Wang Zaijin smile bitterly once more. After pondering in silence for a moment, he sighed deeply and nodded. "Even if it's poison that eats through the gut, I must swallow it now. There is no choice. Chieftain Zhao, state your terms!"

Zhao Jin nodded, picked up a letter from beside him, and handed it to Wang Zaijin. "The detailed terms are all written in the letter. The Zhao Family Army wants the entire province of Shandong, Guide Prefecture in Henan, and all prefectures and subprefectures of Southern Zhili north of the Yangtze. Within these territories, the court shall not station a single soldier. Within fifty li of the borders of these territories, the court shall not station troops. The court may not collect taxes there, but may appoint officials — provided they do not interfere in administrative affairs. The Fengyang Imperial Tombs may be considered an exception. Canal transport shall be shared between Xuzhou and the court. Provided the court and its officials do not willfully provoke us, Xuzhou will safeguard the smooth passage of canal transport and absolutely will not obstruct or cut it off. As for the grain gathered at Qingjiangpu and the salt tax levied at Haizhou and Yangzhou, Xuzhou will not interfere, nor will it take a cut."

"You want to carve up territory..." Wang Zaijin muttered first, then said in astonishment, "You don't want the salt tax or the profits from the canal transport? Then what use is carving up territory to you?"

Canal grain was the lifeblood of the Great Ming. The grain tax from Jiangnan transported to the capital via the Grand Canal — that was practically the very foundation of the realm. And the salt tax accounted for a third or even a quarter of all the realm's tax revenue. Unlike other revenues, this silver was collected centrally in ready cash, spendable money the court could actually use. In many years, the salt tax was practically the only cash the court had on hand.

Everyone could see clearly what the Xuzhou Zhao Family Army was scheming. Carving up territory was only to be expected. Yet Zhao Jin had voluntarily declared he wanted neither of these two great financial sources that were the very lifeline of the Great Ming. Even if it were a trick, making such a gesture would put him at a disadvantage later. What's more, a hero of his stature would not lie about such a thing. To not want these two vast sums of money — wasn't that openly bankrolling the Great Ming court, openly aiding the enemy? Just what was this young man trying to do? Wang Zaijin was utterly baffled.

"Mister Wang, can you see only the canal transport and the salt tax? The reason I am conceding so many terms is precisely to avoid putting the esteemed gentlemen of the court in a difficult position — no endless stalling and wrangling over the foundation of tax revenue, over the altars of state and the ancestral temple. I have no taste for haggling here. I have been more than thorough enough in my considerations. If anyone thinks I am in a hurry to withdraw my troops, or tries to exploit this to push for more, they will likely regret it deeply." Though Zhao Jin's words carried a threat, his tone was very calm.

Wang Zaijin's expression at this moment was very complicated, and within that complexity lay mostly bewilderment. Were canal transport and the salt tax not the very foundation of the realm? Why say he could only see those things? This young Zhao Jin was completely at ease. He offered such terms, so eager to negotiate peace — yet there was no reason whatsoever to suggest he had any need to withdraw. The initiative in this situation was entirely in his hands. Just what was he trying to do?

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