Chapter 218: Allusions (Happy New Year!)

Serving as a personal retainer for a military officer meant nothing more than drawing full pay and eating your fill — twenty or thirty taels of silver a year at most. And as Zhao Jin had said, the costs of food and fodder wouldn't actually come out of Instructor Luan's pocket; the Dong family covered all of it. That silver was, plainly put, the fee for hiring Instructor Luan. Saying it the other way was just for everyone's convenience.

"Mounted combat is the lifeblood of a fighting man. Once you learn it, attack, defense, advance and retreat all become completely different. Instructor Luan is passing his entire body of skill on to us — this silver is nothing. There'll be generous thanks later as well," Zhao Jin said with a grin.

Learning horsemanship was a pressing matter for Zhao Jin and his men. Having finally managed to hire an instructor, they naturally hoped he would teach with dedication and care, but they didn't have the time to slowly win him over and build rapport. So they simply decided to throw heavy silver at the problem. With the connection through Dong Bingfeng and the silver paid well in excess, it was bound to have an effect. Zhao Jin was frugal with money elsewhere, but on this he was generous.

Hearing Zhao Jin speak so courteously, and with the gleaming silver below constantly dazzling his eyes, Instructor Luan hesitated a moment and glanced at Dong Bingfeng beside him. Dong Bingfeng was usually a man of few words, but with his family's deep learning, he was no dullard. He immediately smiled and said, "Uncle Luan, just accept it. Brother Zhao has been wanting to find a riding instructor for a long time, and you're the perfect fit."

With the matter put that plainly, Instructor Luan looked down at the silver ingots in the chest, paused in thought, then clapped his chest and raised his head. "Young Brother Zhao and Little Feng trust me, so I, Luan Song, will teach well. As long as you put in the effort and aren't afraid of hardship, what you learn won't be inferior to the Tartars."

"Tartar slaves" these days all referred to the Mongol tribes to the north, who had always been famed for their horsemanship. For Luan Song to dare make such a guarantee — he was certainly talking big.

"Instructor Luan, this is your first day here. We should have hosted a welcoming banquet in the city, but we have business outside the city today. Why don't you go home and rest first, and we'll meet again tomorrow?" Zhao Jin asked very politely.

Watching the retainers bustling about distributing weapons and donning armor in preparation, anyone could guess what business outside the city was about. Luan Song swept a rough glance over the scene and said with a smile, "Since I'm already here, I'll follow you out and take a look. Don't mind me — I'll just tag along behind."

Zhao Jin paused, startled, then smiled and said, "Then we'll be troubling you, Instructor Luan."

When Luan Song had arrived, he'd been wearing a cotton-padded robe and plain clothes, but the gear on his mount was quite complete — a saber and bow and arrows hung from the saddle. If he could lend a hand, he'd be a fine asset.

Though they'd only just met and exchanged barely a few words, Zhao Jin's courtesy and warmth, along with those several hundred taels of silver, were enough to make this Instructor Luan help with genuine sincerity.

Having a knowledgeable man along, and one helping wholeheartedly at that, changed things entirely. For a start, there were many things this Instructor Luan found puzzling.

"Young Brother Zhao, you're going barely a dozen li outside the city — what are these several large carts for?"

Zhao Jin had prepared five carts, each drawn by two draft animals, loaded with stacked planks, dry rations, and the like. Hearing the question, he answered with a smile, "The shields and such are all on the carts. If we run into anything on the way, we can use the carts as a barricade right away. The rations and miscellaneous supplies are loaded on the carts too, to spare the men's strength."

"You've thought of everything," Instructor Luan said with a nod. The idea had actually come from that ambush where casualties had been so heavy. In the chaos, Zhao Jin and his men had hastily used the carts to block the enemy's arrows, and the carts blocking the road had also hindered the enemy's movements somewhat.

After summing up the lessons learned, Zhao Jin had decided to bring the carts along, loaded with supplies and shields. If the worst came to worst, they could use the carts as makeshift field fortifications.

There was actually another reason Zhao Jin hadn't mentioned. A large force moving around inside and outside Xuzhou city — and not one belonging to the authorities or the official army — was somewhat taboo. With a few carts, if anyone asked, they could say they were escorting the goods on the carts. It was a reason that held up on the surface.

"Why are they wearing cotton armor?" Instructor Luan asked another question.

Compared to other types of armor, this cotton armor was the most troublesome to put on. First you had to don a layer of mail, then the cotton armor over it. The cotton armor fastened with copper buttons, and doing them up one by one took considerable effort. Over there, one man was putting it on while two or three others helped.

The question struck Zhao Jin as a bit odd. He simply answered, "To guard against arrows, blades, and spears when charging into battle..."

Hearing this, Instructor Luan paused, then gave a rueful laugh. "This thing weighs several dozen jin. Wear it while marching a dozen li, and the men will be exhausted by the time they get there. What charge is left? Cotton armor is always put on just before battle. You know to put the supplies on the carts to save strength — this armor ought to be on the carts even more so."

Looking over at the retainers who had already donned their cotton armor, their movements now somewhat sluggish, Zhao Jin realized he'd been doctrinaire. Somewhat embarrassed, he said, "Everyone, take off the cotton armor first."

"Who even wears real cotton armor these days? Everyone just throws on a mail shirt," Instructor Luan remarked from behind.

Zhao Jin's order was like a pardon for the armored retainers. They hurriedly stripped it off — taking it off was much faster than putting it on. Zhao Jin stepped forward to lend a hand, but when he took hold of it he paused, blurting out, "Why is this heavier than the armor I'm wearing?"

The plate armor he wore weighed only about thirty jin, but this cotton armor had to be over fifty jin. Add the mail shirt worn underneath, and it could be sixty or even seventy jin.

"Young Brother Zhao, what kind of armor are you wearing?" Instructor Luan asked curiously, though he stepped forward and began examining the discarded cotton armor with his hands.

Zhao Jin undid the robe he wore on the outside, but Instructor Luan's attention was on the cotton armor. He flipped it over a few times, shook his head in wonder, and said, "To think it's so meticulously made, and in such new condition. It doesn't look like something from the official armories."

Only then did Luan Song look at Zhao Jin. When he saw the armor on Zhao Jin's body, his eyes narrowed. Quite rudely, he reached out, testing the thickness of the chest plate and the connecting structures at various points, before exclaiming in admiration, "This armor of yours is excellent. This was custom-made by a specialist, wasn't it!"

Zhao Jin nodded. Instructor Luan, Luan Song, then returned to the main topic, saying with a smile, "Don't let me delay your business. We'll talk on the road."

Once the retainers were ready, Zhao Jin and his companions also finished donning their armor. Seeing that Zhao Jin and the others were all on foot, Luan Song led his own horse and followed. The hundred-odd men, escorting five large carts, filed out from the goods yard in a column.

The story about escorting goods out was a defense against being questioned, something that held up on the surface. As for this unit's true purpose — unless someone was a fool, seeing their strict formation, full armament, and murderous bearing, anyone would know they were heading out of the city to fight. But people only dared to mutter a few quiet remarks.

Zhao Jin and the others walking in the middle paid no attention to the onlookers, just chatting as they walked. Zhao Jin had grown up in the city; what he knew of guard units and military matters he'd only heard from his father and uncle. Though Dong Bingfeng had grown up in a guard unit, his understanding of the army wasn't much greater than Zhao Jin's. Luan Song, however, had been a personal guard in the official army and understood the ins and outs thoroughly.

Though they'd only just met, Zhao Jin's impeccable courtesy and practical sincerity had moved Luan Song to teach and explain with genuine earnestness.

"... To make cotton armor, you have to pound cotton with a hammer until it's as dense and compact as felt. Then you stack ten layers of that cotton, sandwich iron plates in between, and keep hammering until there's no fluff left at all. Wrap it in thick cloth on the outside, then reinforce it with copper studs. According to the military classics, before putting it on you also line the inside with a mail shirt — that's the real cotton armor. Though it weighs several dozen jin, when you wear it into battle, it can stop blades, spears, and arrows..." Luan Song spoke with eloquence.

"But this stuff takes time and materials. What the official workshops turn out is all shoddy and skimped. The cotton armor they make is basically just a padded jacket — light and easy to wear, sure, but never mind stopping blades and spears; if it snags on a nail or a branch, it rips right open. The cotton inside is all rotten, worse than a padded jacket. Damn it, who knows how much the men handling it skimmed off..." As he spoke, Luan Song seemed to recall some past incident and cursed aloud.

Instructor Luan Song was worked up, but Zhao Jin and his companions listened with rapt interest. Chen Sheng couldn't help asking, "Instructor Luan, it looks to me like all this cotton armor of ours is solid stuff — no skimping on work or materials. The official workshops do have some conscience after all."

"This is definitely not from the official workshops. A set like this takes too much effort to make, and the troops can't be bothered to wear it — it's heavy and stifling. Everyone just throws on a mail shirt and that's enough. Besides, the realm is at peace now. At most, it's bandit suppression and riot control. Wearing cotton armor is for the big occasions — sieges, field battles. Where would you use it?" Luan Song shook his head.

"... It was seized when we raided the Smelling Incense Sect's estate..." Dong Bingfeng added from the side.

Luan Song paused, and only after a moment did he shake his head and say, "Those people really do think big."

After that, Luan Song deliberately steered away from the topic and instead began critiquing the iron armor Zhao Jin and the others wore. "What you're wearing is practical," he said with a smile. "Steel and iron are heavier than leather or cotton, sure, but mail, leather armor, cotton armor — all those layers piled up, with all the folds and bends — they're not light at all. Your iron armor is just one layer, yet it protects everything that needs protecting."

At this, Shi Manqiang, who was nearby, cut in: "If it's so easy to make, why doesn't our Great Ming make more iron armor? Not to mention elsewhere, our Xuzhou produces plenty of iron every year."

"It takes too much effort to make, and iron is too... honest. Besides, iron is always more expensive than cotton and leather!" Luan Song said with a laugh.

He didn't spell it out, but everyone understood. Using iron meant labor and care, and fewer opportunities to skim off the top. Since it was all official business anyway, no one wanted to go to the extra trouble.

These allusions and anecdotes should have been fine material for passing the tedium of the road, but hearing such things left everyone feeling rather uncomfortable, and for a time the mood grew somber.

Zhao Jin's unit was already conspicuous inside the city. Once outside and on the official road, they drew even more stares from passersby. Though it was still the first lunar month, the Lantern Festival had passed, and plenty of people were out busy making a living or visiting relatives and friends. Seeing this force of over a hundred men swaggering down the road, all fully armed, they felt their hearts pound with fear, wondering what this group was up to. Some even recognized Zhao Jin and his party, which chilled them even more, and they all began guessing who was about to meet misfortune.

Guesses aside, everyone quickened their pace, wanting to put distance between themselves and this unit. In the Xuzhou region — perhaps the news hadn't reached the more remote areas yet, but who nearby didn't know that over a hundred outlaws had died and several families had been wiped out?

Seeing this scene, Instructor Luan Song said gravely, "Though Qi Family Village isn't far, we're moving at a leisurely pace. Word will definitely reach them. Young Brother Zhao, we should pick up the pace."

Though the remark was somewhat out of line, it was well-intentioned. Zhao Jin smiled and said, "We never said where we were going when we left the city, and Qi Family Village doesn't know our purpose. Besides, it's better if Qi Erkui does find out. If he dares run, he'll never be able to show his face in these parts again."

Hearing this, Luan Song paused before nodding. Seeing his reaction, Ji Xiang and Liu Yong, who were nearby, exchanged a glance, both understanding the other's meaning. Brother Zhao Jin respected this Luan Song, but Luan Song really was treating them all like children. How could their big brother possibly fail to think through such a minor detail?

In the Xuzhou salt smuggling trade, Cloud Mountain Temple, in collusion with several Xuzhou patrol chiefs, held the largest share. Everywhere that official salt was sold, their smuggled salt was sold too. Qi Erkui held the smaller share — though "smaller," the total volume was still enormous. The surrounding villages in all directions, even the hamlets and towns of neighboring prefectures and counties, all used Qi Erkui's smuggled salt. His distribution hub was Qi Family Village.

Before coming, Zhao Jin had already learned something of the situation. Qi Erkui was backed by a certain figure in the Haizhou salt administration and had a considerable voice along the salt routes of Huai'an Prefecture and Xuzhou. Even much of Cloud Mountain Temple's smuggled salt passed through Qi Erkui's hands. Otherwise, how could Cloud Mountain Temple tolerate someone else sharing the spoils on Xuzhou turf?

For a man like that to keep his business running in perpetuity, he had to have a stable base of operations. That base needed good transport links, couldn't be too far from the city, and had to be secure — convenient for everyone coming to buy and sell, easy for money to circulate, and free from the worry of being watched.

Even if Qi Erkui got word, he had only two choices. Fight — and Zhao Jin had come here precisely to fight. Flee — and if he fled, the private salt distribution network he'd built over years would mostly collapse. Next time, those small-time salt smugglers and dealers wouldn't dare buy salt from him. If Zhao Jin took Qi Family Village and sold the salt himself, as long as the price was right, those salt dealers would buy from whoever had it. The operation Qi Erkui had spent years building would simply be taken from him.

So no matter how Qi Erkui reacted, Zhao Jin only had to follow the plan he'd already set.

Over on the side, Dong Bingfeng caught the little exchange between Ji Xiang and Liu Yong. A wry smile crossed his face. This master of his was certainly skilled at riding, but he was just too eager. Of course, if it weren't for that eagerness, they wouldn't have been able to invite him this time.

A dozen li from the city — not far, not near. Zhao Jin's unit carried their heavy loads on the carts, so everyone marched light. By the time the sun was sinking west, they reached Qi Family Village.

From the moment they'd left the city until now, there had been plenty of travelers on the road and nothing out of the ordinary. But when they were still two li from Qi Family Village, they came across a vendor with a stall set up by the roadside...

In the middle of the first month, selling flatbread by the official road — only a brain-addled fool would do such business. When the vendor saw Zhao Jin's large force approaching, he froze completely. From this position and distance, anyone could plainly see that Zhao Jin and his men were headed straight for Qi Family Village.

The vendor abandoned his business, turned, and fled into the fields beside the road. Only after making a wide detour did he sprint madly toward Qi Family Village. The land was flat and open, and the official road offered no cover — everyone could see that vendor running for his life.

"Qi Erkui is still this cautious?" Zhao Jin muttered. That street vendor was definitely a lookout planted by the other side, but this level of caution was really excessive — a mere Qi Family Village, right near the city, what enemy attack could they possibly need to worry about?

But since they were already this close anyway, Zhao Jin couldn't be bothered to give chase. He'd just advance step by step. Liu Yong beside him, however, froze, his expression shifting. He cursed under his breath, "These muddle-headed fools!"

After muttering that, he hurried over to Zhao Jin and said, "Big Brother, I was muddle-headed, and those lads were careless too. Today should be the day they distribute the salt. The outside able-bodied men on that estate won't number fewer than three hundred!"

That time after killing the monks of Cloud Mountain Temple, when Zhao Jin came to this Qi Family Village to lie low, he'd happened upon a salt distribution. The village's able-bodied men had gathered in force, because loads of salt weighing tens or hundreds of catties needed real strength to haul away. Not to mention that over ten catties of this illicit salt meant the death penalty. Though everyone turned a blind eye, they still had to guard against the unexpected, so the salt dealers all carried weapons.

"…Now the first month is nearly over, and the salt stockpiled around the twelfth month is about used up. It's probably time to move goods again. On salt distribution days, starting from the day before, no one in the village may leave, only enter, and lookouts are posted everywhere to keep watch…" Liu Yong had grown up in the streets and rivers-and-lakes. Though young, his experience was broad.

Zhao Jin could understand these rules without explanation. Qi Erkui had been in the illicit salt trade for so many years; he'd surely greased every palm needed. The reason for such caution was likely rules passed down over the years, and also a measure against the unexpected.

Which meant those sent to Qi Family Village to gather information either couldn't get out or couldn't get in — no message could get through at all. So Zhao Jin and his men had come here completely in the dark.

"Big Brother, this time it's my fault. How about we head back first…" Liu Yong said awkwardly. Watching Zhao Jin ponder in silence, Liu Yong couldn't help adding in a low voice, "Anyone involved with illicit salt is no kindly soul. They've got numbers and strength on their side — can't underestimate them."

Trafficking illicit salt broke the law of the land. Doing this business meant wearing your head on your belt — it barely qualified as living on the edge. Such men were used to settling things with blades and risking their lives, no worse than bandits and brigands. If you really compared, they might even be tougher and sharper.

The household retainers couldn't imagine any of this. They continued advancing as normal, resting twice along the way according to routine, none of them showing any fatigue.

But Zhao Jin's companions had gathered together. Originally they'd figured Qi Erkui had a few dozen men and could be easily swept aside. Now the situation had changed drastically, so adjustments naturally had to be made.

Luan Song, who had been following alongside, kept quiet. This was also due to his earlier experience — better to keep his mouth shut than make a fool of himself. Besides, Luan Song also wanted to see how Zhao Jin would handle such a situation. Dong Bingfeng had learned all his skills from personal guards and family generals like them from other households, and they all regarded Dong Bingfeng as their own nephew or junior.