Chapter 178: Here Again

Huai salt was sold throughout the realm. The salt merchants of Haizhou and Yangzhou grew wealthy enough to rival nations on this trade, and the salt smugglers who trafficked illegal salt alongside them also amassed extraordinary fortunes. Over the years, Zhao Jin had heard of this many times, sometimes intentionally, sometimes not. As for coal and iron, he had heard of them but had never considered getting involved. Whether coal or iron, both required massive amounts of manpower, and the only people who could operate on that scale were the great local magnates of Xuzhou.

Whether salt or coal and iron, both involved tangled interests on every side. If Zhao Jin wanted to enter these trades and did poorly, that would be one thing, but if the business grew large, it would inevitably disrupt the existing interests of all parties and make too many enemies. For now, Zhao Jin had no intention of participating.

But it was only for now that he would not participate. If he wanted to grow his business and expand his operations, he would have to get involved in every profitable trade within Xuzhou. It was simply a matter of choosing the right moment. Now the distillery brought in a thousand taels of gold a month, he had two hundred able-bodied men under him, and the background connections of the various families were gradually blending together. The conditions were growing riper by the day.

Plans were one thing, but to truly begin, he still needed someone who understood the business to guide him. Yet private salt and coal and iron were both trades that made enormous money — who would guide another man to wealth? For a time, Zhao Jin could find no way in, and so he had never discussed it with anyone. He had not expected that Yan the Black-Face would volunteer on his own.

A human life outweighs the heavens — there is no one who does not fear death. With his life at stake, and involving not just himself but his family as well, Yan the Black-Face naturally had to put forward every bargaining chip he could muster.

Zhao Jin fell silent. Behind Yan the Black-Face, Chen Sheng gripped his saber hilt with both hands and slowly raised it. In the pitch-dark night, if he cut the man down in the street, no one would discover it. Wang Zhaojing watched Zhao Jin and Yan the Black-Face with a faint smile. Kneeling there, Yan the Black-Face broke out in more and more cold sweat, enough to wash the bloodstains down his face. He no longer looked like a black face, but rather a painted one.

"Are you carrying any weapons on you? If so, toss them over to the wall! Move slowly, or you die!" Zhao Jin suddenly said.

Yan the Black-Face had been kneeling for a long time. At the sudden sound of Zhao Jin's voice, his body trembled. Slowly he reached into his boot, drew out a dagger, and tossed it aside.

"Nothing else? If I search you and find anything, you're a dead man." Zhao Jin asked, a smile on his face. Yan the Black-Face shook his head.

"Raise your hands and stand up. Keep your hands up." Zhao Jin gave another order. Yan the Black-Face had no idea what Zhao Jin intended, but he obediently complied.

The moment he stood, Zhao Jin made a hand signal. Liu Yong and Ji Xiang stepped forward and searched him thoroughly, confirming he carried no weapons whatsoever.

Zhao Jin nodded, and a relaxed smile appeared on his face. In a teasing tone, he said, "Yan Liu, you're a lay disciple of Cloud Mountain Temple, yet you turn on them at the drop of a hat. Do you still hold the Buddha in your heart at all?"

At these words, Yan the Black-Face's body went limp and he nearly collapsed to the ground — not from fear, but from relief. He knew he had passed the most dangerous hurdle. He hurriedly steadied himself, spat fiercely onto the ground, and cursed, "The Buddha has me in his heart, but those bald donkeys have no room for me! I bore such enormous risk for them, and they sold me out just like that. The family fortune I scraped together over all these years is about to be swallowed up by them too. You can have faith in the Buddha anywhere — why must it be at Cloud Mountain Temple?"

At this point, Yan the Black-Face felt his tone had been somewhat off, and he hurriedly added with an ingratiating smile, "Those bald donkeys aren't really so bad, come to think of it. If not for them, this humble one wouldn't have dared to grit his teeth and throw in his lot with Master Jin."

"Your family will all live in the distillery compound. You will stay alone in the goods yard. Someone will bring you your meals. You are not to go out without cause." Zhao Jin laid down several rules, crisp and decisive.

"Many thanks, Master Jin, many thanks, Master Jin. This humble one's wife and son are staying north of the city. I'll have to trouble Master Jin to send men to fetch them later. Also, over the years this humble one has saved up a thousand taels of silver or so, and I am willing to offer it to Master Jin..." Yan the Black-Face said, bobbing and bowing, not even bothering to wipe the sweat and blood from his face.

He was cut off mid-sentence by Zhao Jin, who waved his hand and said, "Keep your silver for yourself. I'll send men with you shortly to fetch your family. If you have anything else to explain, say it all now. You won't be seeing them for some time."

Yan the Black-Face let out a long breath at these words. His expression showed both relief and a touch of emotion. He stood dazed for a moment before saying, "Master Jin truly is a man who does great things. This humble one's petty schemes must seem laughable to you."

The night grew later, and the streets were cold and deserted. Zhao Jin did not linger, but simply headed back toward the distillery. Yan the Black-Face was flanked by Shi Manqiang on the left and Dong Bingfeng on the right, following cautiously behind Zhao Jin.

After Zhao Jin had let word slip out, Yan the Black-Face had quickly learned of it. His first thought was to pack up his valuables and flee. After all, he had some silver saved up — he could go to some prosperous place, live as a wealthy householder, and that would be a life. But no sooner had he learned the news than he and his brothers under him were separated and isolated by the monks of Cloud Mountain Temple. It was practically house arrest.

Yan the Black-Face was a man who had weathered storms in the jianghu. He promptly took out ten taels of gold he kept on his person and bribed the monk guarding him to get information.

It turned out that Cloud Mountain Temple had made a great deal of money reselling Han Well Famous Liquor. Everyone in the temple, from top to bottom, was preparing to increase their orders. After Zhao Jin let word slip, some had begun scheming to use Yan the Black-Face as a bargaining chip, to see if they could trade him for a share of the liquor from Zhao Jin.

Yan the Black-Face was certainly not willing to sit still and wait for death. He spent another sum of money to bribe his guards and fled with his family.

He had done so much for Cloud Mountain Temple, only to be ruthlessly betrayed in the end. Naturally, Yan the Black-Face was filled with bitter resentment. Moreover, Cloud Mountain Temple's influence throughout Xuzhou was vast, and Yan the Black-Face knew he very likely could not escape. Weighing his options, he decided to take a gamble and come to Zhao Jin to beg for a way to live.

This was not a complete leap into the unknown either. Even as he fled, Yan the Black-Face had kept a close eye on the goings-on in Xuzhou city. From Zhao Jin's killings all the way to the distillery's booming success, he had watched it all with admiration. Yan the Black-Face's own assessment was that Zhao Jin was a man who did great things, and such a man would surely not quibble over minor matters.

An ambush by a dozen desperate bladesmen was no minor matter, but since Zhao Jin and his men had suffered no casualties, there was still room to maneuver. After mulling it over, and with no other road to take, Yan the Black-Face decided to gamble this once. He had gambled correctly.

Liu Yong took ten household guards to escort Yan the Black-Face to see his family and arrange the matters before they moved into the goods yard. Zhao Jin and his companions, meanwhile, warmed themselves by the fire in the distillery's main hall.

Watching Yan the Black-Face leave, Wang Zhaojing smiled and said, "Brother Zhao, with your divine calculations, you never intended to go out of the city to fight, did you?"

Chen Sheng unfastened the short blade at his waist and said in a muffled voice, "If we meant to fight, we wouldn't have made a noise about it beforehand."

"A fight there still must be. What I want is territory outside the city, not the man Yan the Black-Face. Making noise beforehand was simply to save some trouble," Zhao Jin answered easily.

Everyone laughed. They had long since come to understand Zhao Jin's way of doing things. They knew he was meticulous, and that for a battle outside the city he would certainly demand a sure and steady approach. There was no reason to alert the enemy and let them prepare.

A smile also came to Zhao Jin's face. He waved his hand and said, "These days, outsiders only know us for doing business and selling liquor. Their awe and respect have faded considerably — we even had scum trying to set fires in the middle of the night. This move against Yan the Black-Face was meant to show the blade to outsiders, and also to let those boys who've been training till they're bored test their skills. I just didn't expect two things: that Cloud Mountain Temple would be so shameless, and that Yan the Black-Face would have such nerve."

By letting word slip out beforehand, Yan the Black-Face would either flee or fall into internal strife with the people from Cloud Mountain Temple, and his strength would be greatly reduced. Fighting under those conditions carried little risk. Zhao Jin had been thinking of drilling his troops, not fighting a bloody battle. He had not anticipated such a turn of events.

Zhao Jin was silent for a moment, then slapped his hand on the table beside him and said, "It's just as well Yan the Black-Face came. He's familiar with those channels outside the city — he can be put to use."

Dong Bingfeng's family also lived outside the city, but Xuzhou Garrison was a semi-closed system with its own set of rules. The affairs of the jianghu had little connection to them, so they could not offer much help to Zhao Jin's side.

Yan the Black-Face was assigned directly to the goods yard. His two wives and four children were brought to the distillery, along with three of his underlings. Without those underlings' help, Yan the Black-Face could never have brought so many family members back into the city. Liu Yong simply sent Yan the Black-Face's three underlings away — they were Xuzhou city locals anyway.

The distillery already housed the families of craftsmen and workers, so there was no shortage of living quarters. Having Yan the Black-Face's family stay there posed no inconvenience, and of course they could do no harm either.

They had thought that was all for the day, but in the middle of the night, Zhao Jin and his people staying at the distillery were jolted awake. They went out to look, but all they saw were the household guards returning, crestfallen.

After the second watch of the night had passed, the scouts Liu Yong had placed on the perimeter finally made a discovery. Masked figures were creeping furtively toward the distillery. Each scout post spotted three or four. Comparing notes afterward, at least twenty men had approached from several directions.

But the eyes and ears Liu Yong managed were all covert. Their task was simply to spot whoever came to set the fires. The job of stopping and seizing them fell to the household guards defending the distillery. Yet the intruders wore masks even in the night, and in the pitch-black darkness the watchers could not make anything out clearly.

The night raiders still intended to start fires, but no sooner had they struck sparks with flint and tinder in a corner than they were discovered by the alert household guards, who raised the alarm with loud shouts. The mobile units arranged in advance immediately converged on the spot.

At first, the night raiders brandished blades and axes, ready to fight. But when they saw the household guards charging at them fiercely with long spears, and then heard the explosive clanging of gongs from the distillery as more and more people were roused, they dared not linger and fled in all directions.

Seeing the night raiders' weapons, the watchers hiding in the civilian houses had not dared to move. Moreover, these masked night raiders knew the routes well, and, sensing the danger, they ran fast. In the end, not a single one was caught. The household guards did not dare pursue too far either; once they reached the designated perimeter, they hurriedly withdrew.

On the surface, Zhao Jin said nothing, and even offered a few words of appreciation for the household guards' hard work. But after returning to his quarters, he smacked his own forehead and said in self-mocking frustration, "I really am inexperienced after all."

Zhao Jin had no experience dealing with this kind of night raid. The only thing he could do was handle his own side's preparations as thoroughly as possible, striving to leave no gaps for the enemy to exploit. But this approach was somewhat inefficient and far too rigid. Zhao Jin understood very clearly: if there had been household guards stationed at the scout posts tonight as well, they could have closed the encirclement from inside and out, and not a single one of those masked night raiders would have escaped.