Chapter 140: Ordinary Days (Begging for Monthly Tickets!)

"... Thinking back, I've seen great armies on the march before. I'm afraid only personal guards and household troops have that kind of imposing air..."

"... Why even look at armies on the march? Our own Xuzhou Guard, Xuzhou Left Guard, and the battalions under the Xuzhou Assistant Regional Commander — aren't those great armies? None of them can compare to this..."

"... Those goods? Aren't they just a bunch of farmers..."

Zhao Jin walked at the front, his companions flanking him on all sides, keeping the formation in check and ensuring no lapses in order or discipline. The chatter from outside reached their ears. Zhao Jin's expression remained calm, but looks of pride appeared on the faces of his companions and household troops, who unconsciously puffed out their chests and straightened their backs.

Passersby regarded them with awe, idlers gossiped, and their peers openly showed looks of envy. They all felt that within such a well-ordered unit, everyone merged into a single whole, one man seeming to possess the strength of a hundred, fearless and dauntless from then on.

When they reached the distillery, the household troops began their assigned labor. The young men hired as distillery hands watched with envy so fierce it seemed fire would shoot from their eyes.

Along the way, the companions had remained fairly quiet. Once at the distillery, they immediately crowded around Zhao Jin, each face alight with excitement. They looked at one another as if they all had much to say but didn't know how to express it.

It was Wang Zhaojing who smiled, raised a thumb, and said, "Brother Zhao, you are truly remarkable. Training us with those methods every day, none of us could see what use they had. I never imagined you could forge a unit like this, to such effect. Unthinkable, truly unthinkable!"

He had spoken what was in everyone's hearts. From the uniform steps and the indescribable bearing, everyone sensed an emotion they could not name yet which set their blood aflame.

"Right now it's only form. To be truly useful, they must be tested in battle. It's just like us brothers — no matter how long you train and spar, it's not complete until you've killed a man," Zhao Jin said with a smile.

At his words, everyone fell silent, each lost in thought. After a moment, Chen Sheng let out a long breath and nodded gravely. Wang Zhaojing wore a faint smile and merely shook his head. Sun Dalei kept turning back to look at the household troops already busy at work. Dong Bingfeng and Shi Manqiang were both visibly stirred, while Ji Xiang and Liu Yong kept their eyes fixed on Zhao Jin.

The distillery was not small, and there were many places needing cleaning. Yet with sufficient, even excessive, manpower, it was tidied up spotlessly within three days. After that, all manner of equipment was carted in, along with wagonload after wagonload of sorghum and other essential supplies.

The march of those household troops on foot had drawn the attention of nearly all Xuzhou. Everyone knew Zhao Jin could train soldiers, that his household troops moved like a real army, carrying a dense, chilling air. Then came the purchase of the distillery south of the city and the procurement and fabrication of equipment everywhere, along with buying up sorghum from grain merchants and landlords in Xuzhou. These two matters let the whole city know Zhao Jin was opening a distillery, and that he intended to brew liquor from sorghum.

The entire city of Xuzhou was waiting to see Zhao Jin make a fool of himself. Several large hog-raising households inside and outside the city had already made preparations: when Zhao Jin's brewing failed, the wasted sorghum and distiller's grains would be used to feed the pigs.

With Zhao Jin's current information network, it did not take long for him to learn that the whole city was waiting to laugh at him. The reason his elders, subordinates, and companions told him about it was precisely because they didn't want him to go through with this obviously doomed venture.

But Zhao Jin was unmoved and treated it all as wind past his ears.

Seeing that Zhao Jin would not heed their advice, everyone stopped insisting. The companions all felt that even if it failed, it wouldn't matter. That operation of over a hundred household troops marching from the goods yard to the south-city distillery had inexplicably given them boundless confidence, a feeling that there was nothing they couldn't accomplish.

As for the elders, their attitude was simple: too smooth a path wasn't necessarily good, and eating a lesson could actually be beneficial.

Before, in the constabulary, Chief Constable Chen Wu always drank his tea alone, with a few men standing around chatting and flattering him. A month ago, Chen Wu began inviting Zhao Zhentang to join him whenever he drank tea. The two men would sit facing each other, surrounded by a crowd of constables and runners currying favor, fawning over both men at once. Everyone felt this was only natural.

In their daily chats, the topic of Zhao Jin opening a distillery inevitably came up. Chen Wu said with a laugh, "That boy of yours has plenty of silver in hand. If he loses it, he loses it. Besides, at his age, he ought to eat a few lessons. It's no bad thing."

Zhao Zhentang nodded with a smile and said, "That's true enough."

After saying this, Zhao Zhentang furrowed his brow and added with a rather peculiar expression, "But that kid hasn't done a single thing wrong these past few years. Even that business of lending in the spring and buying grain in the autumn — the logic was sound. This distillery might actually succeed."

Chen Wu burst out laughing and simply said Zhao Zhentang was doting on his own son. The whole group laughed and joined in the banter.

Once the abandoned Piaoxiang Distillery had been cleared out, Shi Manqiang's father brought his work crew in and began renovations and installations.

Ji Xiang's father worked full-time at the goods yard, handling meals and odd jobs, because what he earned there far exceeded what he could make from his street stall.

The Shi family's blacksmith shop had now become a side business. Their main trade was assembling craftsmen and laborers of all kinds to build and repair houses for Zhao Jin, which also paid very well. In Shi Manqiang's words, from childhood until now, the number of times the whole family had eaten meat and white flour this year was greater than all previous years combined.

The distillery's various facilities were soon fully in place. With a group of seasoned brewers in charge and sufficient funds and labor, operations naturally ran smoothly. But brewing was not something accomplished overnight. It required soaking the grain, the first steaming, stewing the grain, the second steaming, adding the starter, and various other steps. Even once everything was ready and underway, it would still take nearly twenty days before liquor flowed.

Seeing Zhao Jin so brimming with confidence, Lu Xiangjiu and Su Da had assumed he possessed some unique method for the stages from grain-soaking to starter-adding. Before operations began, they came specially to consult him, only to find that Zhao Jin had no new methods at all and simply told them to follow the old ways.

When those paying attention to Zhao Jin learned of this, they grew even more pessimistic about the distillery's prospects. Some even assumed Zhao Jin would produce inferior, low-grade liquor and then foist it onto the city's restaurants and wine shops. Everyone prepared to hold their noses and buy it anyway, treating it as a form of protection money.

Lu Xiangjiu and Su Da came daily to report on the distillery's progress. Everything was proceeding normally.

Zhao Jin devoted most of his energy to training the household troops. After that "march," from top to bottom, everyone trained with tremendous zeal.

As for the household, Zhao San and his wife were famine refugees whom Zhao Zhentang had taken in. They had endured bitter days and certainly knew the value of their present life. The day Zhao Zhentang said they'd be thrown out if they kept up with the sect, the couple was utterly terrified and never dared go burn incense or make offerings again.

A few days later, Zhao San and his wife came to their senses and began to rue the silver they'd spent on medicines and offerings. During this period, so-called fellow believers and incense-burners came looking for them, but Zhao San's wife cursed every one of them away.

By the second half of the sixth month, the weather had grown very hot. On clear, sunny days, the midday training was pushed back by one double-hour; otherwise, people would collapse from heatstroke.

The household troops had learned to tell left from right and were beginning to obey commands by instinct. Their foot drill was looking more and more proper. Zhao Jin began teaching them spear techniques.

There had originally been some debate over which martial skill to pass on to the household troops. Zhao Jin, of course, wanted to teach the spear, while Chen Sheng believed the saber was better. The others were less decided. Zhao Jin convinced Chen Sheng with a very simple argument.

"First, my spear technique has only two moves. Second, forging spears and lances is far cheaper than sabers and axes."

When the household troops heard they were going to learn martial skills, they were excited and curious, for Zhao Jin's spear technique had already been mythologized. They all thought they were about to learn some extraordinary martial art.

As soon as training began, they were disappointed. What Zhao Jin taught them was very simple: grip the long spear and thrust straight forward, then withdraw and thrust again. This single motion had to be drilled hundreds, even thousands of times. It was mind-numbingly tedious.

But the household troops had already grown accustomed to tedious drills. Though they found it dull, they could persevere.

As the days turned into the seventh month, the wine cellars were filled with starter-laden sorghum mash, and the wine jars had been transported into the distillery's courtyard.

Amid this orderly progress, some bad news arrived. Sorghum, which had always been very cheap, had actually risen in price — by over twenty percent in one jump. The grain merchants even came specially to explain to Zhao Jin: because of a famine in Shandong, grain prices there were soaring, making it profitable to ship grain to Shandong. Even the formerly cheap sorghum could now turn a profit, so its price had surged accordingly.

This matter once again became a topic of conversation for many in Xuzhou, one more reason why Zhao Jin's distillery would fail.

Zhao Jin remained utterly indifferent to this. Every day he still trained his household troops. Few people dared to come gawk at the goods yard anymore. Over a hundred men thrusting long staves forward in unison, shouting "Kill!" in a single voice — it was too soul-shaking. Some idlers were even frightened into sitting down on the ground.

"... Step forward!" After reeling off a long string of names, twenty-some household troops shuffled dejectedly out from the crowd.

During training, Zhao Jin stood on a newly built wooden platform. From there, he could spot any household troop below who was not training properly or giving it their all.

"No drifting off during training! The moment a command is given, you thrust with full force! In a real fight, if you're a beat too slow, you'll be struck, even killed! You're punished — double next time!" Zhao Jin bellowed from the platform.

The twenty-some household troops who had been called out lay face-down on the ground. The first rank of household troops stepped forward with long staves and began beating them.

Chen Sheng stood at the right end of the first rank, watching the unit with a stern expression. The others were positioned around the perimeter of the entire household troop formation. More than half of those twenty-some men had been spotted by them.

By now, the household troops were thoroughly in awe of Chen Sheng and the others, for they, like Zhao Jin, were strict drill instructors.

Zhao Jin held a wooden staff and demonstrated a standard thrusting motion. Just as he finished the move and was about to explain, he heard the sound of hurried footsteps coming from the north.

Though the goods yard was full of people, everyone stood in silent formation. It was utterly quiet, with no idle onlookers around, so the footsteps were clearly audible.

The visitor turned out to be Zhao San. Zhao Jin's brow immediately furrowed. The entire Zhao household knew that Zhao Jin was making a huge commotion over at the goods yard, but Zhao Zhentang and He Cuihua, by unspoken agreement, never came by. Even Zhao San and his wife came extremely rarely.