Chapter 1300: Passing Guests

Ma Chonghao's hand instinctively went to his sword hilt, then grasped at empty air — no blades were permitted at this occasion. He let out a rueful laugh and looked again at the guests attending the banquet, thinking to himself: in another year, who knew how many of them would still be alive, how many would still be qualified to attend such a gathering…

The banquet broke up in acrimony, as expected. The wealthy gentry departed in trembling fear, returning to their lodgings. Once they confirmed that the Zhao Army had no intention of confining or coercing them, the vast majority did not hesitate — they immediately made arrangements to leave. Leaving that very day was impossible; dusk was already falling fast. Heading outside the city in pitch darkness — what if someone ambushed them along the way? Here inside the city, the Xuzhou bandits still had to preserve some face. So they could only stay, hearts pounding with terror. Just one banquet, and the name had already shifted — earlier they'd been called the Xuzhou Army, now they were back to being Xuzhou bandits.

Back in their lodgings, surrounded by their own household servants, the gentry relaxed somewhat. They couldn't help grumbling a bit, even cursing outright. At several households, the moment the master finished venting, a servant would slip out on some pretext — right outside the residence, someone was waiting for exactly this news.

The Internal Guard had planted their own eyes and hidden agents, one set among them. But Internal Guard operatives stationed outside certain households discovered that someone else was also making inquiries about the banquet details. Puzzled, they tailed the person for a stretch. The information-seeker wound his way through twisting alleys and entered an inn — the very place where Linqing lodged visiting officials from various posts. The post stations were crude, after all; some people always wanted more comfortable quarters.

So it was Ming officials who wanted to know. Zhao Jin had never intended to keep secret what he said at the banquet. And, come to think of it, it was hardly strange that officials would want the details of the banquet discussions. The Internal Guard reported what they had observed, and the matter went no further.

"…That master said he was a loyal subject of the Great Ming, that attending this bandit chieftain's banquet went against his conscience to begin with, and that once he returned from this trip, he would certainly contact the imperial court and fight the Xuzhou bandit chieftain to the death…" The servant who had entered the inn gave his master an extremely detailed report — not just what he'd heard at the banquet, but also the sentiments expressed afterward. After all, when you'd spent silver to buy information, you had to prove it was worth the price.

His master listened to this intelligence with great care, as if afraid of missing a single word, yet his expression remained utterly indifferent — no trace of sorrow or indignation, even the faint hint of a smile.

The master was in his early thirties, tall and imposing, with a dignified bearing and a thick beard. He wore a half-worn cotton robe. At first glance, he didn't look like a man of wealth or rank; only his calm, steady presence betrayed his official status. When the inquiring servant finished, the master nodded and said, "No surprise there. That Zhao Jin already possesses the power of dragon and tiger — why would he care about the thoughts of insects and ants? He does whatever he means to do. Summoning them to give notice was already a gesture of courtesy."

Anyone well-traveled would have recognized the master's accent as Jiangnan official speech, tinged with the Fujian Min dialect — a curious contrast to his tall, large frame. At first glance, anyone would have taken him for a northerner.

"Master, those Xuzhou bandits surely won't run rampant for long. Acting like this, disregarding the people's hearts, turning things upside down — how could they ever accomplish anything great?" The servant, having served long, had developed no small measure of insight and could offer a comment or two.

The one addressed as "Master" smiled and said, "Accomplishing great things depends on how many men you have, how much land, how many soldiers — and whether you can manage them and put them to use. The people's hearts have little to do with it. This so-called 'will of the people' is nothing more than how effectively you farm the military colonies, conscript soldiers, and train them. If you can win, and keep on winning, then even if the people's hearts are not with you now, in time they will be yours."

After these musings, the master shook his head with a smile and said, "Now that we know what was said, there's no need for us to linger in Linqing. Pack the luggage and settle the account at the front desk. We'll hurry on our way."

The servant hastily acknowledged the order, then lowered his voice and said, "Master, aren't we leaving too hastily? If the Xuzhou bandits take notice, wouldn't that be too dangerous? Perhaps we should stay one more day."

"They probably took notice long ago. They simply don't care. If they meant to make a move, why would they have waited this long? Hurry and pack. We still have to go to Jinan and then enter the capital — we're already running late. Any further delay would truly be inexcusable." The master urged him on, utterly unconcerned.

Though the servant was on tenterhooks, it turned out exactly as his master had judged: no one stopped them, and they saw no sign of anyone tailing them. When they settled the bill, the front desk was attentive and efficient, even helping them hire a cart to see master and servants out of Linqing. The servant and the two escort soldiers remained tense the whole way, terrified that the Xuzhou men would ambush them at any moment. Only when night fell did they finally relax.

"…This humble one saw several wealthy households rushing to leave and head home. If the Xuzhou bandits truly meant to act, those families would never have made it out. The master's insight is superior — he knew the Xuzhou bandits wouldn't pursue…" Once he'd relaxed, the servant first offered a bit of flattery to his master, then added scornfully, "…The Xuzhou bandits are so sloppy in their methods — they surely have no future. Just a temporary arrogance…"

Hearing this, the master did not laugh or scold. He merely sighed and said, "It's not that they're sloppy — it's that they see no need to be thorough."

As they were having this discussion, darkness had already fallen. Three of Linqing's city gates had been shut; only the south gate remained open, for the convenience of the Zhao Army's comings and goings. After the military review and banquet, the Zhao Army, busy all day, was already preparing to rest. Linqing itself was not so quiet — several wealthy mansions blazed with lamplight, filled with laughter and cheer.

Most of the gentry who had attended the review and banquet were filled with hatred and fear, because Zhao Jin had made it clear he would investigate land and population registers, and had stated plainly that he would not allow them to keep holding so much profit. This was, naturally, the agony of having flesh carved out and one's heart cut away. But for those wealthy merchants and gentry who had grown rich through industry and commerce, this was tremendous good news. They too owned land, but landholdings were not their primary asset. They had all heard Zhao Jin explicitly declare his intention to promote industry, commerce, and trade, and his words carried a promise: those who followed him in developing industry and commerce would certainly receive various kinds of support and convenience.

Had anyone else said this, it might have been dismissed — but a personal promise from Zhao Jin was an entirely different matter. Who among those connected to industry and commerce did not know of Xuzhou's thriving trade? Who did not know that Zhao Jin could turn stone to gold? If they joined him now, boundless benefits would surely follow. Thinking of this, how could they not be excited and overjoyed? Naturally, they had to hold banquets to celebrate.

This celebratory gathering was itself a gesture. A triumphant victory and grand military review were joyous events, and they naturally had to be celebrated with the attitude reserved for festivals. Moreover, everyone had invited Inspector Li and his son Li Yuliang to join them. Father and son Li had a grueling night ahead, attending several evening banquets — not a single one could be missed. It was also because Zhao Jin and his comrades had declined the invitations; to keep the wealthy merchants and gentry from growing suspicious, the Li family had to shoulder the burden.

Those drinking and celebrating were the minority. Most people had gone to rest early. Yet the Xuzhou Internal Guard was still busy throughout the city, hurrying from inn to inn both inside and outside the walls. Although no special precautions were being taken against outsiders this time, the registration of names could not be sloppy — it had to be done for future reference.

The master and servant who had inquired about the banquet discussions had been noted by the Internal Guard. Moreover, the inn where they stayed housed a fair number of traveling officials and scholars, so detailed records were required. Orders from above had made it clear: this time, let all comers go as they pleased. Everyone was happy to take it easy. Arriving at the inn, they had the manager bring out the guest register, copying it down while asking questions.

The Internal Guard's relaxed cheer was only natural. Around the time of the great Linqing review, they had begun operating openly in the city like government runners. Everyone, high and low, knew they were Xuzhou's secret police — the changwei — and treated them with awe and flattery. Under such treatment, their mood was bound to be good. This inn was especially attentive, preparing tea and snacks for them.

"The name is Hong Chengchou. Serving as Left Assistant Administration Commissioner in the Zhejiang Provincial Administration Commission. What's he entering the capital for?" The Internal Guard operative flipped through the records and asked casually. A clerk beside him wrote swiftly.

"Said he's headed to the Ministry of War or perhaps the Censorate. This humble one only asked the usual questions — I truly don't know the finer details." Innkeepers and their staff were often quite knowledgeable about their guests' particulars; their casual inquiries were not easily forgotten.

The Internal Guard nodded. The clerk, however, spoke as he wrote: "For someone of his rank entering the capital, he'll likely end up as a bureau director in one of the ministries. It's even possible he'll be leapfrogged to a vice minister's post. If it's the Censorate, he might be sent out as a grand coordinator. This is a man marked for important appointment."

"Didn't we get word earlier that the Ming court just established this rule about leapfrogging and promoting young men? By rights, the edict shouldn't even have crossed the Yangtze yet. A man from Zhejiang is already nearly in Northern Zhili — could it be coincidence?" The Internal Guard operative flipping the ledger asked in surprise. Such news from the Ming capital was proclaimed to the whole realm, and the Internal Guard learned of it even faster than most places — hence the remark.

The clerk had finished recording. Setting down his brush, he smiled and explained, "The official world has no end of tricks. Our Lord Jin has smashed the government armies twice now — whether Eunuch Party or Pure Stream, they're all in for misfortune. Anyone who understands the game knows positions will be opening up. Those in charge started making moves long ago. Positions have to be filled anyway; making a move only after the edict is issued leaves too many traces and gives people leverage. If I'm not mistaken, this Hong is riding exactly that wave. He's got someone at court!"

The Internal Guard nodded. This clerk came from a failed xiucai background — he'd once been a private secretary to a county magistrate, later framed, convicted in his stead, and thrown in jail. Fortunately, he had relatives in Xuzhou, and through a roundabout path they had appealed to Chen Sheng's father, Chen Wu, who got him rescued. From then on, he'd served the Zhao Army with absolute devotion. This clerk had a thorough grasp of Ming officialdom; everyone trusted his judgment.

Once the recording was done, they moved on to the next inn. The innkeeper, as was customary, tried to press some loose silver on them, but was sternly refused. The Internal Guard not only watched others — they watched each other very closely. If someone here took a bribe, it might well be reported, landing them in prison with heavy punishment. No one wanted to lose big over something so small. No one paid Hong Chengchou much mind. The Zhao Army had risen to power moving along the Grand Canal, and the Internal Guard was the same. They had seen Ming's wealthy and powerful families travel south and north along the waterway in droves. A mere rank-4 assistant commissioner was nothing — high officials of the second and third ranks came and went without causing a stir.

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