Chapter 1294: Hearts Frozen with Fear

After Chen Sheng shouted, everyone hesitated for a moment — "Long live" was meant for the emperor. But then they all realized: was Jin-ye not worthy of it? Rising from Xuzhou, breaking bandits alone, seven men slaying a hundred outlaws, the night raid on He Family Village, the storming of Cloud Mountain Temple, a thousand men crushing ten thousand bandits beneath Xuzhou's walls — and then victory after victory, each one overwhelming and crushing, like Mount Tai bearing down. If a man like this does not become emperor, who under heaven could?

Zhao Jin reined in his horse and looked at Chen Sheng. The smile on his face slowly faded. He nodded from the saddle, and his expression returned to solemnity — but it was different now. A trace of loneliness and solitude touched his face. He raised his arm toward the First Brigade, who were roaring "Long live," and the response sent the cheering even higher. Zhao Jin spurred his mount forward.

Some men, unable to contain themselves, began pounding the ground with their spears. Soon everyone followed suit, and it was like rolling thunder once more. Zhao Jin rode on like this, gazing at the young, impassioned faces. He narrowed his eyes, for the light from armor and blades kept flashing back at him.

When he reached the front of the Second Brigade's First Regiment, Shi Manqiang raised his right arm level with his chest and struck his chest with his right fist. Shi Manqiang looked at Zhao Jin and wanted to shout something, but no sound came from his first attempt. The distance was not far, the sunlight just right, and Zhao Jin could see clearly — tears were streaming down Shi Manqiang's face, unstoppable.

"... Long live... Long live..." Shi Manqiang's voice was distorted, warped by the intensity of his emotion.

The cry of "Long live" from the Second Brigade rose like a roaring sea. Zhao Jin pointed at Shi Manqiang from horseback, then raised his arm again and continued forward.

The place where Zhao Jin reviewed the brigades and regiments was not close to Linqing's south gate, but at this distance, the mountain-shaking, sea-surging cries of "Long live" from thousands upon thousands of men could naturally be heard. Atop and below the walls of Linqing, the local gentry and commoners, along with powerful figures from all over Shandong, fell utterly silent. They looked at one another. Among those on the city wall, some of the Linqing locals turned pale with terror. After hearing a few shouts, they hurriedly descended. Others were startled at first, but their expressions soon returned to normal. As for the powerful gentry below the wall, their faces were all strange and unsightly, though they quickly became rather subtle. They had come all this way — what was there left to feel awkward about? That this Jin-ye from Xuzhou was willing to lay the matter bare was actually not a bad thing. Thinking this, some even grew visibly excited.

The several Linqing local gentry below the wall, however, felt no awkwardness at all. Those who could remain here until now were all close to the Zhao Family Army or allied with the Li family — otherwise, how would they dare stay? They were more at ease than the others. Servants and runners kept coming in from outside to relay news. Someone came over to inform them, and they exchanged glances, all showing expressions of disdain. A curious acquaintance from out of town asked, and it turned out that among the crowd watching from the city wall, a local juren had wept aloud and tried to leap from the wall to die for the dynasty. Yet the magistrate and the assistant magistrate remained perfectly composed, even nodding in approval. That truly separated the high from the low.

"The dynasty is changing. I wonder how much longer this Great Ming can hold on," someone said with a sigh, as the cries of "Long live" echoed across the sky.

By the time the "Long live" shouts over there had ceased, many people here already had sweat beading on their foreheads. Many normally drank only spring water or well water, but now they could not afford to be so particular and kept drinking the lightly salted water from their gourds. Yet no one complained. Waiting here was simply what was expected.

"Jin-ye is about to arrive." A rider came galloping over to give advance notice.

A stir ran through the crowd. Everyone hurriedly straightened their attire. No one wanted — or dared — to show any lapse in decorum before Zhao Jin.

Not long after, Zhao Jin appeared, escorted by ironclad cavalry, heading toward the reviewing platform. Even those here who had met Zhao Jin before had never seen him in such full regalia. The armor patterned with dragons and tigers was especially awe-inspiring, making Zhao Jin seem utterly divine and martial. Combined with the cries of "Long live" just moments ago, many, upon seeing Zhao Jin approach, could not help but kneel and bow to the ground. A few instinctively said, "Greetings, Jin-ye," but the others remained silent. For a moment, no one knew whether they should shout "Long live." More felt they were not qualified to address him as Jin-ye — even though many were venerable and respected, far older than Zhao Jin.

"Everyone, rise," Zhao Jin said calmly. In such a setting, there was indeed no need for excessive courtesy. Zhao Jin continued toward the high platform. The others remained kneeling, not rising. Worldly-wise as they were, they naturally knew that when he said "rise," they could not simply stand up at once — they had to wait until he ascended the platform.

As Zhao Jin neared the high platform, he paused. He parted his guards and helped Inspector Li, who was kneeling on the ground, to his feet. Smiling warmly, he said, "Uncle Li, you have worked hard. I have put you to much trouble these days."

Inspector Li and his son had helped Mu Shulan greatly. That past deed alone was enough to earn Xuzhou's friendship. And after that, the Li family had aided the Zhao Family Army in many ways — scouting and making contacts throughout Shandong, helping the Zhao Family Army establish trading firms and estates, and even Li Yuliang risking life and limb for the Zhao Family Army. At the time they did these things, they may have been reluctant or fearful, but now, all of it had been worth it.

In that instant when he was helped to his feet, Inspector Li became the focus of everyone's gaze. Even on the city wall, people leaned out from the battlements, all wanting to see who commanded such great face. The powerful Shandong gentry on either side of the reviewing platform looked on with envy or jealousy, and at the same time, they confirmed one thing in their hearts: as long as the Zhao Family Army remained in Shandong for a single day, the Li family would be the most honored house in the province. Even the Kong Manor likely could not compare.

More than one person thought of the Duke of Yansheng in Qufu. Everyone had arrived here early, and even those with no prior ties had gotten acquainted. It seemed that the Kong Manor had indeed sent no one. There was one person surnamed Kong, but he claimed only to be from Yanzhou and denied any connection to the Kong Manor. Everyone knew the names of the Duke of Yansheng's sons, and judging by age and other details, this man was certainly not one of them. It seemed the foundation the Duke of Yansheng's Kong Manor had built up over centuries was about to be utterly lost.

"This Zhao Jin does not revere the sages. Is he not walking the same path as those Tatar barbarians?"

"The Tatar barbarians revere Confucianism and the sages too. Did the Kong family not live perfectly well during the Song and Jin, during the Mongol Yuan?"

"And what good has revering the sages done? The court today reveres them, but has Shandong seen any good days? From the founding of the dynasty until now, it has been chaos — only after this Zhao Jin put down the Incense Bandits has there been peace and stability."

There was much discussion about this, but no one really cared. The Kong family had monopolized Shandong for so many years, squeezing everyone until they were miserable. Without them, everyone would get an extra share of the pie. With these so-called descendants of the sages around, no one was comfortable.

Inspector Li, helped to his feet, paid no mind at all to the difference in their ages. He struggled desperately to compose himself, but he could not control it. His lips trembled with emotion. Instinctively, he tried to kneel again, but Zhao Jin held him steady. Inspector Li opened his mouth several times but could not produce a word, much to the anxious embarrassment of Li Yuliang behind him.

"The good days are still to come. Today will be a bit taxing," Zhao Jin said with a smile, then strode toward the wooden platform.

Only once he had ascended the wooden platform did the kneeling gentry rise one after another. Inspector Li finally recovered somewhat at this point. He turned to look at Li Yuliang and said, full of emotion, "I always thought you were our family's curse. I never imagined you were our blessing. Good child, truly a good child!"

The others, naturally, did not share this sentiment. To varying degrees, they all felt somewhat uncomfortable with Zhao Jin's attitude. Those who had come here were the top gentry of Shandong, families of inherited wealth and power. The local officials and the jianghu all had to bow their heads to them, even obey their every word. They were accustomed to being respected. Coming here, though they had prepared themselves to lower their heads, the fact that this young man from Xuzhou truly placed himself so high above them, without the slightest polite concession, still left them disappointed — and deep down, there was a faint thread of unease.

When Zhao Jin stood upon the wooden platform, Lu Da took his place behind him, holding the great banner aloft. Armored soldiers stood solemnly arrayed on all sides. On the city wall, someone waved a flag, signaling the brigades and regiments preparing to pass the high platform. At the same time, drumming like thunder began to sound. A solemn, killing atmosphere spread, and the scene grew quiet.

At this moment, whatever their inner thoughts, everyone's curiosity was fully piqued. Most had long heard of the Zhao Family Army but had never seen it in person. Now they would. Everyone also knew the direction from which the Zhao Family Army units would come. These people of status abandoned all decorum, standing on tiptoe and turning to look toward the direction the Zhao Family Army would come from. Far off, they could already see banners fluttering, and the sound of the marching drums grew clearer and clearer.

Besides the rhythmic war drums and marching drums, the crowd heard another sound — like many iron implements striking against one another. But this clashing sound was also perfectly uniform. And then there was another sound: muffled thuds, equally uniform.

After a moment of puzzlement, everyone quickly understood, for they could already see the glint of the Zhao Family Army soldiers' armor. Could that be the sound of iron armor colliding? How much iron would that take? The thought horrified them all. Then, as the Zhao Family Army's formation drew nearer, they understood again — those uniform muffled thuds were footsteps. So perfectly synchronized. Everyone was so shaken they could not speak.

In these times, common folk were cut off from news, but the powerful and the gentry who had come here were well-traveled and knowledgeable. They knew what government troops looked like. Some had even hired drill instructors with military backgrounds to train their own household guards and private soldiers. But they had never seen troops like these, never seen formations like these.

Perfectly uniform square formations. The spacing between soldiers was identical. The spacing between the weapons they held was identical. Seeing this sight overturned many people's very concept of "uniformity." It felt to them as if this should not be a formation composed of human beings — at the very least, they had never seen one before.

At first, it was novel and fascinating to watch. But as they watched on, they felt pressure bearing down on them. Everyone unconsciously began to breathe more lightly. Some even felt their breathing grow labored, and they dared not make the slightest noise.

Suddenly, the bugles of every brigade and regiment sounded in unison. The shrill notes of the suona horns had no rhythm or melody — they were simply piercing and sharp, like shouts and roars of fury. The moment this sound rang out, those watching from both sides of the reviewing platform and atop the city wall were greatly startled. Their bodies shuddered violently, needless to say. Some cried out in shock. Some collapsed to the ground.

Thanks to "Qi Sanwen, Mu Ming, Duan Yichen, Xi Shua Shua, Yun Quan, Hua Ji, Feng Zhong Long Wang" and the other old friends for the tips. Thank you all for your subscriptions and monthly tickets. Thank you for your support.