Chapter 255: An Exhausting Cleanup

Precisely because of this, this spot became a blind spot for the Zhao Camp. If anyone were staying at the mule-and-cart inn, or disguised as a hired hand or the like, there was simply no way to notice them.

Last night, those scouts who came to gauge their strength — including the men needed to light the signal fires before the mounted troop raided Cloud Mountain Temple's monk soldiers — all appeared from nowhere and vanished to nowhere. Though Zhao Jin had no time to deal with it now, that did not mean he had no guesses or judgments.

"Your humble servant Wang Ziyang, a man of Shanzhou in Henan, trades in cattle and horses brought to Xuzhou. Last night, Master Zhao righteously extended a hand and shielded us humble folk from harm. We are endlessly grateful and have specially prepared hot food and dishes to come and reward you all." A stout, burly man stood at a distance, bowing with clasped hands as he spoke.

Originally, these people had eagerly headed straight toward where Zhao Jin was, which also carried the implication of dealing only with the leader. But the moment they entered the Zhao Camp's perimeter, they dared not move. The young retainers of the Zhao Camp, new and old alike, watched them warily. These youths, looking to be in their teens, some still with childishness on their faces, were all utterly exhausted, their faces covered in soot and dust. Many could not even straighten their backs, propping themselves up on their weapons as they stared at them.

Yet even so, this made those who had come to reward the troops too afraid to move recklessly. They felt that these young men's eyes carried a murderous edge, that if they acted out of line, disaster would follow. Had it been any day before, the cattle and horse merchants and their attendants, and even the tenant farmers of He Village, would hardly have taken the Zhao Camp's retainers seriously. What could a bunch of beardless boys do? Could that long spear in their hands really kill a man?

Many had watched through the entire night. These "boys" truly could kill. Their every move was now naturally perceived as carrying a murderous edge.

Being stared at by so many eyes, even these cattle and horse merchants, well-traveled as they were, felt a chill run through their bodies. This was the focused attention of several hundred men, growing more intense by the moment. The people carrying the food behind them had even begun to tremble.

The stout, burly man at the head saw that this was not going well and hurriedly called out in a loud voice, announcing his purpose in coming.

Zhao Jin walked over unhurriedly. The horse trader Wang Ziyang — he had long known this name. This Wang Ziyang sold at least four hundred horses a year, and no fewer than two hundred donkeys and mules combined. He was the biggest trader in this mule-and-horse market, and the other merchants all deferred to him.

When the Zhao Camp first arrived at He Village, people from all quarters of the village had come to pay their respects. This Wang Ziyang had not come in person, instead sending a subordinate to call on them, his attitude indifferent. Zhao Jin's side, meanwhile, was in a rush to settle in and stabilize. Since the other party had shown no hostility, he would not quibble over details.

He never expected that today the man would come fawning in person, all groveling deference. Zhao Jin sneered inwardly. In the final analysis, it was last night's battle that had demonstrated their strength. What "protecting the countryside"? They had seen that the Zhao Camp possessed the ability and the power to simply reach out and take by force. If they did not show some sense now, it would be too late later.

After a night of fighting, apart from eating a little before the battle began, no one had had anything to eat or drink until now. In the heat and tension of fierce combat, they had been too preoccupied to care. Now that they had relaxed, hunger and thirst surged up together. As the aroma of the food and dishes sent over here wafted over, many could not help but drool. Even Zhao Jin's own Adam's apple bobbed.

Some accounts would have to be settled later; right now there was no time for that. Zhao Jin watched for a moment, then spoke: "Accept the food and give them my thanks. Have them stay at the edge and not leave for now. Assign the recruit squads to watch them. Eat by squads — no eating all at once."

Liu Yong acknowledged the order and ran off again. Chen Sheng asked in a low voice, "Let the recruit squads eat first?"

Zhao Jin nodded. The order was passed down. The cattle and horse merchants and their attendants carried the food in, then withdrew outside to wait. Chen Sheng designated the last two squads in line to eat first.

These two recruit squads were made up of the poorest-quality soldiers, the worst in both physique and courage. During the battle, they had shown no initiative; even the squad leaders' shouts and curses had no effect. They had kept hiding at the rear and only charged out with everyone else at the very end. Although Zhao Jin and his companions had not witnessed this performance themselves, they had summoned the squad leaders and asked.

The hot food and dishes were laid out there, with prepared utensils ready. Every man in the Zhao Camp was ravenously hungry, their appetites stirred. No one expected the two worst-performing squads to eat first. Everyone was baffled, and many kept turning their heads back to look at Zhao Jin. They felt that Master Zhao would not make such a muddle-headed decision.

But it was a small matter. Those two squads were still somewhat apprehensive. Forty or fifty men fell to eating ravenously. After they finished, they stood by on standby, while the other squads assembled and reorganized their ranks. By the time the assembly and reorganization were complete, another stretch of time had passed, and the food had cooled somewhat. Only then did the squads go over to eat, one after another.

"... Better to be cautious in all things. If there were a problem with the food, we'd be trapped..." Zhao Jin said in a low voice. His companions all nodded. Someone had already brought food over to their side.

Although they were on guard here, the cattle and horse merchants were utterly obsequious and fawning. The soldiers ate mutton soup and flatbread, each man also getting a meaty bone to gnaw on. For Zhao Jin and his companions, noodles were served, heaped full with mutton on top, and there were even a few kinds of pickled vegetables — quite appetizing and refreshing.

Apart from the sounds of eating, there was no other noise in the field. Everyone was famished. They were now a few hundred paces from the He Family Compound, too hungry to bother going back — they would eat their fill first.

Only after eating did everyone rise and head back. The cattle and horse merchants were also released. From the battlefield back to the He Family Compound was a distance of three or four hundred paces, yet the Zhao Camp walked very slowly. Every man was yawning incessantly; the exhaustion and everything else had become unbearable. All they could think of was getting back quickly to rest.

On the return journey, the Zhao Camp began gathering their own dead and wounded. Although the veteran squads had kept their formation unbroken and charged forward bravely, some had still been struck by hurled weapons. Even soldiers in the front rank, wearing cotton armor, had been pierced through by spears. In the rear ranks, where men wore no armor, there were also over a dozen casualties. The recruit squads went without saying — they had charged out in squads, but with no formation to speak of. When they clashed with the monk soldiers, it was often brutal, blade-to-blade melee. In that one battle, casualties had neared a hundred.

They gathered the bodies of their fallen comrades, took the door planks that had been laid near the rubble, and carried back the wounded who had lost the ability to move. The atmosphere grew somewhat heavy.

But it was only a little heavy. The excitement on everyone's faces was still impossible to hide. Outnumbered, the weak overcoming the strong, and at such a small cost — everyone felt it had been worth it!

Back at the He Family Compound, they carried the wounded into the barracks and laid the bodies outside. Once all this was done, many looked as though they could barely keep their eyes open, thinking only of going back to sleep.

"Liu Yong, take the recruit squads from the Eighth to the Thirteenth into the village. Bring out every able-bodied man and woman from every household. Beat anyone who refuses, and drag them here if you have to!" Zhao Jin gave the order. After drinking some hot soup, his voice was still hoarse, but he could barely speak normally.

Liu Yong acknowledged and led the designated squads out. Everyone was utterly exhausted and wanted to rest as soon as possible, yet they obeyed Zhao Jin's order without a word of complaint. Last night, it was Zhao Jin who had led them to survive, and who had achieved such an inconceivable, brilliant victory. That had been accomplished by issuing one order after another, which everyone had followed and carried out. Such orders, of course, must be obeyed. Zhao Jin's authority had been established last night.

An uproar arose in the village. Last night, many of their able-bodied men had been seized, and over twenty had died out there. Every household was panicked and terrified. But first, it had been dark; second, the mounted troop had been circling through the village; third, the sounds of killing outside had shaken the heavens. They had wanted to flee but dared not. When daylight came and they discovered that Zhao Jin's side had won, and because the Zhao Camp had behaved reasonably well in He Village, they felt there was no need to run after all.

Just as they were in this state of fearful trembling, Liu Yong arrived with soldiers to take people away. Looking at the Zhao Camp retainers, covered in blood and grime, exhausted yet radiating murderous intent, no household dared disobey.

The mule-and-horse market was likewise conscripted for labor. The cattle and horse merchants who had stood firm against Cloud Mountain Temple last night were very sensible this time. They had already delivered food in the morning; lowering their heads once more was not so hard. Besides, lending a hand was also building good karma. They obediently brought people over.

Able-bodied men and sturdy women — laborers from all over He Village began concentrating on the open ground to the east. Someone divided them into teams and assigned different tasks.

Some went to the He Family Compound to clear the rubble. Zhao Jin was in no hurry to repair the collapsed eastern compound wall. Instead, he had the moat completely filled in and all the bricks and debris moved away. The rest of the people began tidying up the battlefield.

Every corpse on the battlefield had to be moved to one side; the wounded were placed on another. Fallen weapons had to be picked up, and the dozen or so horses standing far off in the distance had to be brought over as well.

By the breach in the eastern compound wall, a simple wooden platform was erected — three tiers of bed frames. Zhao Jin sat on that wooden platform with an imposing, confident air, yawning incessantly. In front of the platform, all four veteran squads sat on the ground, slumped over their spears, snoring away in deep sleep.

Two recruit squads were inside the compound, keeping an eye on the village laborers. The rest were outside, watching the laborers clean up the battlefield. Swords, spears, and weapons of every kind were piled to one side of the wooden platform. The valuables searched out from the monk soldiers' bodies were placed on the other side.

As the battlefield search proceeded, those He Village tenant farmers also discovered the bodies of their own kin. On the open ground to the east, the sound of wailing and bitter weeping rose up.

The weeping shook the heavens, and the place was in an uproar. Yet not a single man in the veteran squads sleeping before the wooden platform woke up. Zhao Jin forced himself to stay alert and keep watch. Chen Sheng and the others also had not rested; each was keeping watch over one area.

"Big Brother, Zhou Xuezhi has been found. He hid in the secret passage all night," Liu Yong came over and reported.

After they had returned to the He Family Compound, the brewer they had brought with them had hidden in his room, not daring to move, and had no thought of fleeing. Zhou Xuezhi, on the other hand, had vanished without a trace.

Zhou Xuezhi's family was still in Xuzhou city. If this man had abandoned his family and fled, Zhao Jin would not have felt it was any great pity. A cold and fickle nature, and he had not displayed any outstanding talent — if he was gone, he was gone.

Liu Yong had not been specifically looking for him, but was leading men to search every place in the compound where a person could hide, prioritizing thoroughness. The secret passage was a key target — what if someone came in through it? He never expected to find Zhou Xuezhi inside. Zhou Xuezhi had already changed his clothes and had rolled up the gold stored in the secret passage, waiting there in fearful trepidation. When he saw someone coming down, he had shrieked in fright, only relaxing when he saw it was Liu Yong. It turned out the man had planned to wait until the next day, when everything was completely quiet, before fleeing.

Hearing Liu Yong's account, Zhao Jin shook his head and said with a laugh, "Scholars are timid; it's nothing unusual. Go call him over."

Not long after, the sound of footsteps came from behind, and a pale-faced Zhou Xuezhi came running over. Zhou Xuezhi looked at the corpses and wounded inside and outside the compound, then at Zhao Jin seated squarely on the wooden platform, and felt it was utterly inconceivable. He had not witnessed last night's battle, but he had known the enemy held the advantage, which was why he had hidden in the secret passage to wait for a chance to flee. He never imagined that after one night, they would have won a great victory. How on earth had they done it?

Zhou Xuezhi was full of regret, knowing that his cowardly behavior would inevitably earn Zhao Jin's contempt. But now it was too late for regrets. He could only muster every ounce of energy and ask obsequiously, "Master, what did you summon this humble one for?"

"Write a formal complaint. Accuse Cloud Mountain Temple of harboring sinister intentions, gathering a mob to commit violence, attacking a village of law-abiding people, and attempting murder and mayhem. Our side rose up in self-defense and thus repelled the vicious criminals. After you finish writing it, have everyone in He Village jointly sign as witnesses. Also, treat the wounded from Cloud Mountain Temple so they can serve as living witnesses. Then deliver it to the prefectural yamen." Zhou Xuezhi hastily agreed.

"After you finish this, you and Liu Yong will register every person in this village, whether they are tenants of He Village or not, in a register. Record every arrival and every departure. Be quick about it," Zhao Jin instructed further.

Before this great battle, the scouts of Cloud Mountain Temple and the Kong family mounted troop had thoroughly scouted out the true situation and weak points of He Village and the Zhao Camp, leaving Zhao Jin extremely passive. Although many things could not be done in time when they had just arrived and were barely finding their footing, from now on, nothing could be allowed to slip through. Everything had to be under control. It made no sense that Xuzhou city was so tightly controlled, while tiny He Village was full of holes.

The battlefield, a scene of utter devastation, had been mostly cleared. The monk soldiers had left behind roughly four hundred corpses, along with over a hundred wounded. Nearly three hundred of those corpses had died under spears; over a hundred more had died under blades and axes — clearly the handiwork of the mounted troop.

These corpses had all been thoroughly searched and were simply piled there. Someone had already begun sprinkling lime over them. The weather was no longer cold; so many corpses could easily breed pestilence.

The weapons the Zhao Camp had acquired, however, far exceeded five hundred. When the Cloud Mountain Temple monk soldiers had scattered and fled for their lives, the weapons in their hands had become a burden, and they had simply thrown them to the ground. Among the weapons, spears were not in the majority; instead, there were quite a few podao and goose-quill sabers. This seemed to be the common practice among local militias: the less trained they were, the more likely they were to be given a spear to make up the numbers, while the elite used blades and axes, with the podao being the most common.

Zhao Jin had pondered this logic before. He wondered if it was because, among common, run-of-the-mill goods, blades and axes, requiring more iron and labor, were far more expensive than spears. Consequently, those armed with spears were also seen as incompetent. Perhaps many people's disdain for the Zhao Camp also stemmed from the fact that their primary equipment was exactly this.

Beyond that, there was about six hundred taels in silver and copper coins. The monk soldiers were all men who fed themselves and left no family to support; many were in the habit of carrying their entire worldly possessions on them. There were also twenty usable bows, and a dozen or so sets of barely intact chainmail — these too had been shed as hindrances during the flight. Another thirteen horses had been abandoned by the mounted troop; their advantage was that they came with complete tack.

The sun had risen. With so many people busily at work, the devastated battlefield was quickly cleared. The He Village tenant farmers had also retrieved and encoffined the bodies of their own kin who had perished. This was an unmerited calamity, but there was nothing to be done; they could only bear it. Aside from these grieving people, many more looked upon the Zhao Camp with awe and reverence. These young men, faces full of exhaustion and yawning incessantly, had fought and won such a victory. They were also watching Zhao Jin. That Master Zhao, seated on the wooden platform, seemed as if upon a throne, looking down upon his subjects. This was truly a remarkable hero.

Zhou Xuezhi wrote that complaint very quickly. Zhao Jin had already outlined the framework for him; all that remained was to fit it into the standard format. As for getting the He Village tenants to jointly sign, that was also simple. With dead in their families, they all gnashed their teeth in hatred for Cloud Mountain Temple and all put their marks on the paper. There were very few who could actually write.

Although some had died under the Zhao Camp's arrows, everyone naturally knew upon whom this debt should be laid. It was those bald thieves from Cloud Mountain Temple who had come in the dead of night, fierce as demons, to seize people.

Cloud Mountain Temple's side had actually been quite thorough. If Zhou Xuezhi had not told them, the He Village tenants would never have known it was the monks of Cloud Mountain Temple who had done last night's deeds.

While Zhou Xuezhi was gathering the joint signatures, the Zhao Camp squads could finally rest. They moved the bed frames that had been carried out of the barracks last night back inside, and reattached the door planks that had been taken down. When moving things back, they also had to clean up, pulling out the arrows embedded in them. All told, they collected several hundred arrows.

They could not all rest. The veteran squads still sat snoring loudly by the breach in the eastern compound wall. Half the recruit squads went back to rest; the other half remained on standby in the courtyard. The only mercy was that they did not have to stand. If they did not mind the cold ground, they could sit. A few who were still in decent spirits and could hold out went up into the watchtowers. Zhao Jin remained on the wooden platform. The rest of his companions sat beneath the wooden platform, already slumped over, fast asleep. Everyone's armor also remained on their bodies.

The scene grew quieter and quieter. The snoring in the courtyard and the weeping from the manor mingled together. No one came over to the He family compound — after so many people died here last night, who would dare come near?

There was little wind here. The smoke from last night's bonfire had never quite dispersed, and the stench of blood gradually spread. Even this foul smell could not stop sleep from descending. Zhao Jin fiercely pinched his own thigh to keep himself awake.

The sound of hoofbeats suddenly rang out. Zhao Jin jolted alert and immediately looked toward the sound. The lookout on the watchtower reacted even a beat slower than he did, then shouted, "Someone's coming! Someone's coming!"

That was all he could shout, because on the eastern road, only a single rider was galloping toward them at full speed. Zhao Jin rose from the wooden platform and bellowed, "Fall in and stand ready!"

At his command, the veteran squad dozing in front of the platform all woke, hurriedly rose, formed ranks and readied themselves, and only then looked ahead. These were all instinctive actions — in the blink of an eye they had already arrayed themselves in formation before the platform. Zhao Jin climbed down from the platform, spear in hand, and took his place in the front row.

Only then did the compound erupt in commotion. The recruit squad scrambled to their feet, and some men came forward to move the platform away. The archers, rubbing their bleary eyes, grabbed their bows and arrows and climbed to the high ground.