Chapter 184: Longing

Everyone roared with laughter. With those seven hundred taels of silver in hand, their confidence had swelled considerably. Even the few companions from wealthy families felt it keenly — normally they spent what their families gave them, but this money they had earned themselves.

"There's actually such a thing? I'm going to buy a couple to take home too. My family's already arranging a match for me and finding a wife, and the betrothal gifts are steep. This way I wouldn't have to spend a thing. Dalei, can it really be that cheap?" Shi Manqiang asked, his face flushed red.

Sun Dalei said carelessly, "Come the first month, they'll be even cheaper for sure. The famine in Shandong has been going on for over half a year — no grain, nothing to eat. How are they supposed to get through the winter? Even if they go back to farm when spring starts, they'll still need travel money and seed money. They'll have no choice but to sell their children!"

Everyone was nodding along. Ji Xiang said with a smile, "We ought to let our household troops know about this. They're well-fed and warmly clothed — they should realize they're living in comfort. Just the other day someone was grumbling about the training being too hard."

"Then the training should be doubled. Train them more the way Big Brother does, and they'll be all the handier when you use them." With the wine at its peak, even someone as taciturn as Dong Bingfeng was willing to speak up.

Over on the other side, Chen Sheng tossed his chopsticks onto the table and asked with a grin, "Bingfeng, I hear you're incredible with the bow. You guard-station folk really are different. On my side, we're decent enough with blade arts and the like, but with bows and arrows, we can only say we know how — accuracy is out of the question!"

At this topic, Dong Bingfeng puffed out his chest with pride and declared, "On foot at seventy paces, eight out of ten arrows hit the bullseye. Mounted at twenty paces, six out of ten hit the target!"

Hearing Dong Bingfeng's words, Chen Sheng and Wang Zhaojing both showed expressions of astonishment. The others were more bewildered. Shooting on foot, standing steady, the body stable — you shoot far, you shoot true, so the mark of skill is hitting the bullseye. Mounted archery, jolting and bumping, is a matter of split-second encounters, demanding you draw and loose instantly. Just hitting the target at all is already impressive.

Those who didn't understand had no idea of the skill involved, but those who did found it remarkable. Wang Zhaojing nodded and said, "Such marksmanship — I've only seen it among the elite of the Palace Guard and the capital garrison. I never imagined Bingfeng possessed such ability. Truly remarkable."

Chen Sheng also spoke up: "Since you have this skill, you ought to carry your bow and arrows when you come and go. We who train in martial arts should always have our weapons close at hand, handling them constantly, or else we'll grow rusty. Zhao Jin, wouldn't you agree?"

After he spoke, Zhao Jin beside him gave no response. Chen Sheng looked over in surprise and found Zhao Jin struggling to keep his eyes open, smiling in a daze as he said, "Bingfeng's archery is so impressive. Tomorrow I'll take Xiaolan to see it."

Everyone was just about to pick up the thread when they sensed something off. "Xiaolan" — Mu Shulan had been gone from Xuzhou for over half a year now. Zhao Jin had indeed had far too much to drink.

Over this past year, Zhao Jin had been decisive and resolute in his actions, dignified and solemn in speech and manner. It was rare to see him in such a muddled state. Everyone was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter — but after laughing a couple of times, they found they couldn't quite laugh anymore.

Just then, Zhao Jin braced himself against the table and stood up, slurring his words: "It's getting late. I need to hurry back, or else my parents will nag me again, and Xiaolan won't be happy either."

He spoke a couple of sentences, took a single step, and then his body went limp to the side. Chen Sheng hurriedly reached out to catch him, but he too had drunk too much and his reaction was half a beat slow. He managed to grab hold of him, but ended up dragging himself to the floor as well.

Amid the clamor, everyone rushed over, only to find Zhao Jin already snoring loudly. Wang Zhaojing waved his hand and said, "None of us should go home tonight. We'll rest right here."

In their current state, all of them dead drunk, and with so much silver on hand, traveling the night roads would certainly be inconvenient. Besides, the distillery needed someone to watch over it anyway.

The building itself had bedrooms. Everyone helped Zhao Jin onto the heated brick bed and got him settled, then casually threw a quilt over the silver chests outside before each finding a place to sleep. The Fragrance Drifting Distillery was now a small city within a city, fully equipped with every facility.

Zhao Jin's entire body relaxed completely. Warmed by the heat of the kang, he sank into a deep sleep. The first half of the night he slept extremely soundly. In the second half, he woke once. Someone had brewed a pot of tea and left it on the kang cabinet — when he touched it, it was still a little warm. His mouth parched with thirst, Zhao Jin drank a few mouthfuls without a care, then turned over and went back to sleep.

The effects of the alcohol took full hold now, and Zhao Jin drifted through many dreams.

After all, it was close to New Year's Eve, and the night before had been the Little New Year. Zhao Jin was startled awake the next day by the sound of firecrackers. With business at the Fragrance Drifting Distillery so booming, they hadn't skimped on the firecrackers either.

After waking, Zhao Jin sat dazed for a while. He felt he had dreamed of many things, but the only one he could remember was going to his second uncle's courtyard to practice martial arts. In the dream, his second uncle Zhao Zhenxing was still alive, his white hair and wrinkles much increased. When he urged Zhao Jin to train, he was no longer as stern as before, but instead very gentle. In the hazy dream, Zhao Jin didn't remember that his second uncle had already passed away. He smiled as he told him about everything he had done over the past year and more. His second uncle Zhao Zhenxing had even admonished him with a single line: "You must never stop training in martial arts. That is your root."

Recalling the dream, a surge of mixed emotions welled up in Zhao Jin's heart. He vaguely remembered that before falling asleep, there seemed to have been some other matter, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall it.

Just then, he heard Ji Xiang shouting outside, asking if Zhao Jin was awake. After Zhao Jin answered, he began to dress and wash up. Not long after, someone from the distillery brought breakfast in. After the feast had ended the night before, the room had already been cleaned spotlessly.

His companions all came in. Some were still bleary-eyed, while others showed no sign of having drunk at all. But everyone had a fine appetite for breakfast.

After finishing a bowl of congee, Wang Zhaojing spoke up with a smile: "If I may be so bold, last night we were all drunk. Had anyone come to harass or attack us, none of us would have been able to react in time. Had there been an assault aimed at us, the consequences would likely have been even more severe. The saying that wine spoils affairs is truly no lie. From now on, we should all exercise as much restraint as possible."

Everyone looked at one another, and finally all eyes turned to Zhao Jin. Zhao Jin nodded and said, "From now on, none of us should drink. This stuff harms the body and dulls the mind. If there's an occasion where drinking is unavoidable, then half of us drink and half don't. We must always keep someone alert to respond to contingencies."

Hearing Zhao Jin say this, everyone nodded.

After breakfast, apart from Liu Yong who stayed behind to keep watch, everyone else took their silver and headed home.

Over at the Wang household, everyone knew the master had been in poor spirits since returning from the capital, so they were all treading carefully. When Wang Zhaojing returned, he went straight to the study. He had hired men to carry the silver chest back.

In the eyes of the Wang father and son, seven hundred taels of silver was a considerable sum, but nothing to make a fuss over. After hearing Wang Zhaojing's report, Wang Youshan said with a smile, "It seems you've chosen the right path after all. Had you devoted yourself solely to the examination essays, you'd be in an awkward position now instead."

Over at the Chen household, Chen Sheng and Chen Hong together brought back eight hundred taels of silver. Although Chen Wu, as Chief Constable, collected a sizable annual stipend and the family also had the charcoal yard business, eight hundred taels was still a great sum of money. Chen Wu looked at the gleaming silver, shook his head, and said, "Old Zhao's son is truly something else."

After getting his silver, Sun Dalei had originally planned to go on a spree of drinking and pleasure. But it was already the twenty-fourth of the twelfth month — the drinking, gambling, and brothel establishments were all preparing for the New Year. Inside the city and out, everything was desolate and quiet. Left with no choice, Sun Dalei had to deposit his silver at the distillery and go to Yutou Town himself to reunite with his parents for the holiday.

The Dong family was also considered a wealthy household, but upon seeing the seven hundred taels of silver, Dong Bingfeng's father, Dong Jike, couldn't help but curse: "Even that fallen Zhao family has turned its fortunes around. Their ancestral grave must be billowing smoke."

If even these wealthy and noble families reacted this way, the reactions of the Shi and Ji families were even more pronounced.

After Shi Manqiang brought the seven hundred taels of silver home, his father, Old Shi the blacksmith, first stood stunned for a long while, then grabbed Shi Manqiang and demanded, "What kind of outrageously reckless deed have you done? To bring back this much silver — did you embezzle the distillery's accounts?"

Old Shi the blacksmith had considerable strength, but Shi Manqiang had been tempering his body over the years and was robust himself. Annoyed, he broke free and hurriedly tried to explain. To his dismay, no matter how he explained, Old Shi the blacksmith refused to believe him. He pointed at him and cursed, "Do you think your old man has never seen the world? The best shop dividends top out at a few dozen taels at most. There's no reason on earth to hand out seven hundred taels at once. Shitou, that Zhao Jin has treated our family well. We can't do the kind of rotten thing that would betray him."

With the conversation reaching this point, Shi Manqiang didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Left with no alternative, he had to go and call Zhao Jin over. After Zhao Jin confirmed it, the Shi blacksmith's entire family was dumbstruck. Even after Shi Manqiang saw Zhao Jin out the door, they were still standing there frozen.

Seeing this scene, Shi Manqiang was reminded of the time he had won first place in the freight yard martial contest and had happily brought pastries home for his younger siblings, only to get a thorough beating from his old man, who then went to the Zhao household to inquire. This time was rather similar.

"I've made a fool of myself in front of you, Big Brother. But seven hundred taels is just too large a sum — my father was genuinely frightened." Shi Manqiang explained with a wry smile.

"Shitou, this sort of thing will happen often. Your family will gradually get used to it," Zhao Jin said with a laugh.

Having come to the Shi household, Zhao Jin's thoughts turned to Ji Xiang. Ji Xiang's family circumstances were similar to Shi Manqiang's — Ji Xiang might well be facing the same awkwardness.

Ji Xiang's family now actually lived right at the freight yard. His entire family, along with the hired hands, were in charge of logistics there. When Zhao Jin arrived at Ji Xiang's home, Ji Xiang's father immediately knelt down before him, saying he was thanking the Master for his great kindness.

How could Zhao Jin allow the man to kneel? He hastily reached out and helped him up, and in the same breath scolded Ji Xiang, who had knelt down as well, for not persuading his uncle otherwise.

Ji Xiang's father kept saying words of gratitude, insisting that his family only had their present circumstances thanks to Master Zhao, and how could they accept so much silver — word getting out would make them a laughingstock. Zhao Jin patiently counseled him for a long while before the Ji family finally accepted the silver. Even so, their gratitude was as heavy as a mountain.

This was precisely the effect Zhao Jin wanted. He didn't need the Shi and Ji families to weep with gratitude, but he wanted others to see tangible, substantial benefits.

Giving each person a dividend of seven hundred taels of silver — and not in promissory notes, but in gleaming silver ingots — if one thought about it carefully, some might consider it an unnecessary gesture.