Chapter 230: Thousands Come to Join

The household servants were still being put through the wringer, and the work was even more grueling now. On top of learning to ride, they had to rotate shifts between the city and He Village, marching dozens of li every few days. It was no easy life.

"Big Brother, we don't have enough hands." Several of his companions had brought this up with Zhao Jin.

"We sent Fu Chuchuan rushing back, thinking Kong Jiuying might make a move, but it's been dead quiet ever since. We're done waiting. Recruit soldiers—no—recruit men!" Zhao Jin answered decisively.

After sending Fu Chuchuan back, everything on Zhao Jin's side seemed calm and orderly on the surface. In reality, they were outwardly relaxed but inwardly taut, maintaining a tight, vigilant defense.

Every day, "merchants" from the city went to He Village, and people from He Village came into the city to visit relatives and friends. These people were all scouts under Liu Yong. They hadn't received any rigorous training, and their level of loyalty varied greatly—they were simply paid to do a job. But their task was simple enough: just go over and see if anything was happening. If anyone besieged He Village, Zhao Jin was confident he could lead his men there within two shichen.

The only truly dangerous time was at night. If an attack came then, the men guarding He Village could only hold their ground and wait for relief. However, the He family estate was originally built to the specifications of a fortified stronghold. The men stationed there led the household servants and lived inside. The distillery did not operate at night, and all the craftsmen and laborers who had been exposed to the brewing process were also required to stay inside. When the time came, these people would count as extra hands.

Yet under this outwardly relaxed but inwardly taut state, all remained peaceful and uneventful. Even the jianghu figures near Paoheyan said everything was calm, with no sign of any action from Master Kong Jiu.

On the sixteenth day of the second month, several dozen town criers in Xuzhou city took to the streets, beating gongs and shouting. Being a "town crier" was a trade in itself, usually a side job for people who managed weddings and funerals. Before an event, these men would travel everywhere, announcing the matter to all quarters—spreading good cheer for happy occasions, and dispelling bad luck for funerals. Sometimes the authorities also hired them for major public announcements. These criers typically consisted of a few headmen, each with a dozen or so beggar acquaintances under them. When a job came up, they'd round them up and head into the streets to shout.

"Zhao Jin, Lord Zhao, is recruiting household guards! Must be under twenty years of age, strong and healthy with no ailments, of clean family background with a guarantor, able to endure hardship, and unafraid of death..."

The criers were old hands at this and habitually made their shouts as catchy as possible. Still, they found it puzzling. When other families recruited, they always touted their own benefits. This Lord Zhao, however, started right off with enduring hardship and not fearing death—wasn't he just telling everyone that the job involved casualties and bitter toil? Who would dare come after all that? But then it dawned on them: working for Zhao Jin meant good food, warm clothes, and ample silver. For that, even dying was worth it. The dozen or so household guards who had died near Gao Village had come from poor families, but now those families were of middling means. They had lost a son, but they had gained real benefits.

That day, the whole city was in an uproar. Normally, the criers would have to beat their gongs and march back and forth several times. This time, after just one round, there was no need for them to keep shouting. Everyone who needed to know already knew. Some people even hurried out of the city—if they themselves couldn't make it, didn't they still have relatives and friends outside?

After the execution in early February, some subtle changes had come over the Zhao household. Zhao Zhentang's shoulder was a little hard to lift now, the result of swinging his blade too many times that day. After all, Zhao Zhentang was getting on in years; his stamina and physical condition were no longer at their peak. This was only natural.

What truly gave Zhao Jin a touch of melancholy was this: every time he came home for a meal now, the table was always set with four or five freshly made dishes—one large meat dish, two smaller meat dishes, and even the dry staples were fine white flour and white rice.

The Zhao family was certainly not short on money, but his mother, He Cuihua, had known hard times. To this day, the only servants were still Zhao San and his wife. At meals, one dish would be eaten over three sittings; no new dishes were made until the leftovers were finished. This sudden extravagance struck Zhao Jin as very odd. The New Year was long over—why were they still eating so well?

When he asked curiously at the dinner table, his mother, He Cuihua, just snapped impatiently, saying, "Your mother cooks, you eat. Too much nonsense." But Zhao Jin also noticed that his mother's mood was not high.

On the evening of the sixteenth, the dinner table held six dishes, and chicken soup had been simmered. His mother, He Cuihua, sat there looking as if she had clearly been crying. Zhao Jin could roughly guess the reason, but didn't know what to say. When Zhao Zhentang came back and saw He Cuihua's state, his brow immediately furrowed, and he said irritably, "The boy is this grown. Why are you worrying yourself over this?"

"... He sleeps restlessly at night. If no one tucks in his blankets, what if he catches a chill..." His mother's eyes immediately reddened. She held it in for a long moment before finally speaking, her voice choked.

"He has the same temperament as Zhenxing. Sooner or later, he was bound to leave. You..." Zhao Zhentang began gruffly, but in the end, he just let out a long sigh.

Zhao Jin knew his guess was correct. His parents were worried and saddened by the fact that he was about to leave the city and live on his own. He wanted to open his mouth and explain, but suddenly, in the lamplight, he caught sight of the white hairs at his mother He Cuihua's temples. For a moment, he could not utter a single word.

"Xiao Jin, don't worry about things at home. Your father still has a blade in his hand. You must be careful outside the city." Zhao Zhentang spoke his admonishment, and by the end, his voice had grown somewhat hoarse.

"... Father, Mother, don't worry..." Zhao Jin didn't know what else to say. He just replied with this, his voice heavy.

The next morning, as he rose and stepped outside, Zhao Jin stood before the gate and looked left and right. The household guards assigned here were keeping watch very dutifully. Even if he himself was going out of the city to He Village, he couldn't possibly abandon his operations inside the city. The ten guards posted at the gate would not be withdrawn.

The guards came over to salute and greet him. Zhao Jin, however, saw a figure flash by at the street corner. The guard on lookout duty there paid it no mind, so Zhao Jin knew who it was. He couldn't help but shake his head with a wry smile.

Wang Zhaojing was spending less and less time with everyone now. Everyone knew he had to "focus on his studies" over there. But Wang Zhaojing could never quite let go of things here. The Wang family servants were now split into two groups: one group hung around the Zhao residence, the other stayed over at the freight yard. If anything happened, they were to rush back and report immediately.

Scholars have too many thoughts. Wang Zhaojing was probably still over there, hesitating and torn. But having faced life and death together, brothers were brothers. Zhao Jin didn't dwell on it. After meeting up with Chen Sheng, they headed straight for the freight yard.

The city of Xuzhou was desolate. It had been tolerable during the first month, but now it had reverted to its old state. As Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng walked the streets, there truly weren't many passersby. Today, however, was different. After walking two streets, the number of people heading the same way suddenly began to swell.

At first, Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng were very much on guard, suspecting some kind of trick. Later, they realized it was no trick—everyone simply had the same destination: the freight yard.

Although Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng were renowned throughout Xuzhou city, the city still held over ten thousand households. Many had heard the names but never seen the men in person. Seeing these two, armed and powerfully built, some people murmured in low discussion: "Look at the bearing on those two. They're sure to be chosen as guards this time..."

So they were all young men here to answer the recruitment call. Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng exchanged a smile and continued on their way. When they reached the outskirts of the freight yard, they were taken aback. The scene was a veritable sea of people. It wasn't just the area around the freight yard—even the two streets outside were packed solid.

These people were all fairly young, their clothing and bearing varied. During the first and second recruitments, the best anyone who came wore was simply neat and tidy; patches were unavoidable, and ragged clothes were common. This time, however, they saw people in brand-new cotton gowns, their complexion and build clearly not that of commoners. There were several dozen such individuals scattered about. Some had even come on horseback, bearing decent weapons.

"... Isn't that the second son of the Ma family?" Chen Sheng said to Zhao Jin.

Following his gaze, not far away, a very sturdy young man was waving in their direction, his face full of smiles.

Zhao Jin recognized this person—the son of a Constable Ma. Technically, he and Zhao Jin were of the same generation, but generation was one thing; the gap in their actual status and position was far too wide.

Spotting him, Zhao Jin also noticed other familiar faces. There were sons of clerks and constables from the yamen, a few who seemed to be from the garrison, and also children of the wealthy, powerful families outside the city.

These young men all fit the criteria. Beyond them, there were others who looked somewhat out of place and conspicuous. These individuals stood scattered here and there, some in small groups of two or three. The space around them was always a bit emptier; everyone kept their distance. These misfits generally came armed with weapons and horses.

The ones he'd seen earlier, though also on horseback and bearing blades, still looked like respectable young men who practiced martial arts. These out-of-place ones, however, were not only older, but their manner and appearance were unsavory. Zhao Jin was now a man of considerable experience, and he could tell—these characters were much like the bandits and desperadoes he had encountered before. In all likelihood, that was exactly their background.

"Our place has actually become this popular?" Zhao Jin said, shaking his head.

Chen Sheng was shaking his head too. He answered in his gruff voice, "Our Xuzhou esteems martial valor and heroes. A scene like this isn't so strange!"

"... I came last night with my bedroll, never thought I'd still be this late..." someone happened to be muttering right beside them. Zhao Jin couldn't help but laugh.

Walking through the outer edges was very crowded. The early arrivals were utterly unwilling to give way. It was only when they saw that Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng were tall, brawny, and armed that they reluctantly moved aside. Entering the area near the freight yard itself was actually easier, because people there had already recognized the two of them. Filled with awe, the crowd parted to either side.

Ji Xiang was the one who had gone to He Village for guard duty yesterday. Lei Cai had followed to handle some miscellaneous affairs. Shi Manqiang was currently holding the fort at the distillery. Here at the freight yard now, only Liu Yong and Dong Bingfeng remained. The number of household guards wasn't large either; with men posted everywhere, only a few dozen could be kept here as a standing reserve.

"Good heavens, there must be nearly a thousand out there..."

"Probably more than that..."

After a couple of lines of idle talk, Liu Yong frowned and said, "Big Brother, quite a few characters from the jianghu have come too. At least five we can confirm have criminal cases on their heads. But these men have good skills and have seen real combat."

No one asked Liu Yong how he knew this. Everyone could guess—Liu Yong must have placed his own men outside. It wouldn't be strange if Chen Ergou and Butcher Li's people had come over to help keep an eye on things.