Chapter 180: Year's End

Hearing this, Li Shun gave a couple of dry laughs and said, "But Young Master Zhao needn't worry. The grand manager and I will do our utmost to soothe things over. It's just that the grievances in our temple run far too deep this time..."

At this point, Li Shun paused, then added, "If Young Master Zhao could give us a few dozen more jars each month..."

Zhao Jin shook his head with a rueful smile. All this talk was just to squeeze more liquor out of him to make money. Smiling, Zhao Jin said, "The extra liquor I gave you before was for Balipu. This Yan Family Village already belongs to me. Put another piece of land on the table besides Balipu, and I might consider giving you more."

Li Shun froze, his dry laugh stiffening instantly. After a moment of deliberation, he shook his head dejectedly and said, "I fear that won't work. Whether it's the temple or the lower cloisters, those old men guard their fields and territory as if they were the sky itself. Move even a sliver and it's like carving out a piece of their flesh. Difficult."

"Though I, Zhao, never got Balipu, the liquor I promised you I won't take back. We should keep up our dealings in the future," Zhao Jin said with a smile, offering a few words of reassurance.

Li Shun had come hoping to wring out more liquor, but after just a few exchanges he found that even what he was originally due might slip away. Now, hearing Zhao Jin's promise, he felt considerably relieved and quickly smiled, thanked him, and took his leave.

"Cloud Mountain Tower was established by the previous temple overseer. The grand manager of Cloud Mountain Trading, Xue Xiaozong, is the abbot's son. The second manager, Li Shun, is the chief seat's nephew. The former overseer had very close ties with Monk Ruhui and his faction. My minor businesses, on the other hand, fall under the rear hall, managed by Runing's people." With Yan Heilian present, they could gain a thorough understanding of Cloud Mountain Temple's structure.

Cloud Mountain Temple was not the monolithic power outsiders imagined. After delving deeper, Zhao Jin discovered it was more an alliance of various factions. Each eminent monk within the temple formed his own core, with their disciples and nephews as the backbone, creating separate interest groups that fought endlessly among themselves for profit.

After this deeper understanding, Zhao Jin's assessment of Cloud Mountain Temple dropped considerably. He had thought such a colossal entity at his side required constant, tense vigilance, always fearing being swallowed whole. Now it seemed this colossus was merely an assembly of profit-driven figures. Just over the allocation and distribution of Han Well Famous Liquor, they were already betraying one another, their internal strife unceasing.

Though he could despise them strategically, Zhao Jin dared not let down his guard in the slightest. Cloud Mountain Temple was still far too vast. Even a single branch posed a threat to him, let alone the possibility they might unite against him—that would be an even greater disaster.

Not to mention these attacks and harassments against the distillery. Although Cloud Mountain Temple now had a great demand for liquor and was profiting from it, they also had a rationale for doing so. Crush Zhao Jin's distillery, round up its craftsmen to build their own, and rely on grain grown on their own lands—that would drive costs even lower.

Beyond this, Zhao Jin had noticed something else. The day he posted the bounty at Sparerib Zhang's, every mission-house head present had been thoroughly tempted. Soon after, that manager had come to his door to inform. But after that manager and the physician—both mission-house heads—died violently, the heads of the Smelling Incense Sect went completely quiet. Even that You Zhenrong began spending more time outside the city than in. No one from the Smelling Incense Sect came to inform for reward money anymore.

Connecting the informant manager's mention of the Smelling Incense Sect's local chapter master with the subsequent behavior of the city's mission-house heads, that chapter master—whose identity remained unknown—was also highly suspect.

Until he got to the bottom of it, Zhao Jin dared not relax his vigilance. He had to guard against everyone under suspicion. Only with absolute, all-encompassing caution could he avoid disaster.

Every time he thought of this, Zhao Jin felt a touch of helplessness. When Mu Shulan and her father had been here, the relationship between the Smelling Incense Sect and the Zhao family had been extremely close. Yet the moment Mu Shulan left, the situation had devolved into this.

Zhao Jin had acquired the land of Yan Family Village, and in his talks with Li Shun, Balipu had also been mentioned. But he was not entirely satisfied with either location. The salt-distribution income from Yan Family Village was actually not high. By the time the salt passed through countless hands to reach here, layer upon layer of profit had been skimmed off, leaving very little meat on the bone. Compared to his distillery business, it was far inferior. Balipu was mainly tied to agricultural trade, a place where nearby villages bartered, mostly goods for goods. Moreover, Balipu's location was poor; transport relied solely on carts and horses, making costs prohibitive.

His dissatisfaction wasn't due to the meager income these two places could bring, but because neither was a suitable site for a new distillery. Yan Family Village was too close to the city, lacking sufficient surrounding land and water sources, while Balipu had poor transport links and was far too close to Cloud Mountain Temple.

Still, Zhao Jin knew such things couldn't be accomplished overnight. He could only search patiently. The news that Fragrance Drifting Distillery was to be built anew outside the city and was seeking a suitable location spread wider and wider. Whether it was middlemen acting as go-betweens or various people hoping to curry favor with Zhao Jin, everyone began searching everywhere.

The site for the new distillery required an ample, high-quality water source, flat terrain, convenient transport, and it couldn't be too far from the city. Xuzhou was no wild frontier; it lay in the heartland of the Great Ming. All the good land had long been claimed. Finding something suitable on short notice was no easy task.

In truth, the He Family Village at Sanxiantai was exactly such a place. Transport was convenient, the village had rivers and streams, several good wells, and it was adjacent to a market. Fuel, grain, and finished goods could all flow in and out smoothly. But everyone also knew that such a place was He Weiyuan's lifeblood—how could he possibly part with it?

The long-time residents near this He Family Village had discerned a pattern: every year in the eleventh month, the He family would make a grand show of welcoming an honored guest.

Squire He Weiyuan was a figure of heaven-like stature at Sanxiantai. Any guest he received with such courteous respect had to be someone truly extraordinary. Some busybodies had observed the guests, expecting figures of wealth and rank, but instead found rough-handed, broad-footed, horse-riding, blade-carrying martial wanderers. Typically, over a dozen ox- and horse-drawn carts from the He household would set out, and then these wanderers would follow them back.

The He Family Village at Sanxiantai was a crossroads market, and its people were considered worldly. On closer inspection, these blade-bearing riders were somewhat different from ordinary jianghu folk. They didn't laugh or boast loudly; they watched their surroundings with extreme vigilance and were remarkably disciplined. Men like that could only be matched by the personal troops and retinue soldiers of the Xuzhou Brigade Commander.

Outsiders could only guess wildly. The He family rules were strict; even if the servants and laborers knew something, they wouldn't speak of it. And at such times, they were far too busy to spare a moment for idle gossip anyway.

Every year at this time, the master would purchase all manner of gifts, personally oversee the kitchen's preparations of food and wine, and even hire top-class courtesans from Xuzhou. That wasn't all—one year, a guest took a fancy to a maidservant from the inner quarters. Everyone expected the master to fly into a rage, but instead, still beaming, he presented her to the guest.

The men who appeared so stern and vigilant to outsiders relaxed considerably inside the He Family estate. The heated walls and kang beds in the rooms were stoked to blazing warmth. Wine and meat were delivered in a steady stream, and there were delicate, soft-spoken women to attend them. Every one of them was thoroughly enjoying himself.

Squire He, meanwhile, entertained his guest in his private study. The study was as warm as spring. This was a place for people of superior station, so naturally it wouldn't be as unrestrained as the rooms in the outer estate. Yet the cook had been brought in from the finest restaurant in Haizhou, and the courtesans were top-tier goods from Yangzhou. If they desired anything the estate lacked, a retainer would immediately be dispatched on a fast horse to procure it.

At this moment, however, the courtesan waited in a side room. Even Zhou Xuezhi, whom Squire He always relied upon, stood waiting outside the door for orders. Only two people sat facing each other in the study.

A round table stood between them. Sitting opposite He Weiyuan was a man in his forties, his face dark and lined with deep wrinkles. He bore no trace of wealth or status, nor even the fierce edge of a jianghu wanderer. He looked like an old fisherman weathered by years of wind and frost. Yet before He Weiyuan, who carried himself like a scion of an old family, he showed not the slightest unease or tension, chatting and laughing with perfect composure.

"Every year I must bring my lads to impose upon you, Chapter Master He. I truly feel bad about it."

He Weiyuan waved his hand dismissively with a smile. Had anyone from the He Family Village seen this expression, they would have been shocked senseless. Since when could Master He treat anyone with such genial warmth?

"We're brothers—why speak such distant words? Hardly anyone visits me here all year round. It's only when you and your men come, Brother Xu, that things liven up. I wish you'd come more often!"

The two men laughed heartily together. As the laughter subsided, the one addressed as Brother Xu pointed at the twenty small wooden chests beside the table and said, "According to the old custom of years past, once Chapter Master He has counted the silver, my errand here is done. I'll stay one more day, then head back to Shandong. Preparations for the New Year should be underway there too."

He Weiyuan nodded with a smile, bent down, and produced a wooden box about half a foot square. It seemed quite heavy, requiring both hands to hold steady. Passing it over, he said, "A few trinkets for your wife and daughter. This is also the old custom. Brother Xu, please inspect them."

"You always go to such trouble, elder brother." The man addressed as Brother Xu shifted to a more intimate form of address. He reached out and took the wooden box. Where He Weiyuan had needed both hands, he held it steady with just one.

He placed it on the table and opened it. The room brightened perceptibly at once. Inside the box were gold ornaments. The craftsmanship and patterns were merely passable, but the purity and weight were absolutely genuine—eighty taels, no less.

The face of this Brother Xu, illuminated by the golden glow, revealed a trace of infatuation. Then that infatuation turned to reluctance. After a moment's hesitation, he reached in, took out a single gold bangle, and pushed the box back.

He Weiyuan's face filled with utter astonishment. He made no move to accept it, merely asking, "What is the meaning of this, Brother Xu? Do you no longer recognize me as your elder brother? If this continues, I shall truly be angered!"

Brother Xu's hand remained extended, perfectly steady, but a bitter smile surfaced on his face. The two men remained locked in this standoff for a moment. The polite smile on He Weiyuan's face vanished, and with an impassive expression, he reached out and took the box back.

They sat in silence for a spell. Then Brother Xu, after a moment's deliberation, drained his cup of wine in one gulp and said in a lowered voice, "Chapter Master He, you've performed well all these years. I, your brother, am indebted to you for that, and the main altar in Shandong also remembers your contributions. But next year, the rules are going to change."

He Weiyuan's expression remained unchanged. He merely raised his wine cup and took a small sip.