Chapter 264: Today One Can Know Yesterday

Zhenzhi was Ruhui's trusted confidant, and having lived through today's events, he understood perfectly what Zhao Jin meant to Ruhui. Though he did not know Zhao Jin's preferences, no one disliked gold, silver, and wealth. The gold and silver in those two courtyards plus the riches in the storehouse truly amounted to a huge sum. Zhenzhi gritted his teeth and promised it all away.

"No rush. Ruhui knows what to do. Remember to handle the inquiries and report to the authorities," Zhao Jin said with a smile, then strode forward.

This operation against Cloud Mountain Temple had relied mainly on complete surprise. Precisely because it came so suddenly, everyone was caught off guard. The abbot Yuanxin and the monk Runan had no precautions whatsoever; it had never occurred to them that anyone would charge straight into Cloud Mountain Temple. In their minds, the temple had powerful patrons shielding it and was close to Xuzhou's prefectural seat — surely absolutely safe. They never imagined Zhao Jin would have such audacity.

Cloud Mountain Temple remained very quiet even now. If not for the Zhao Camp household troops converging toward the west, no one would have known a great upheaval had already occurred here. Many of the monks still dared not leave their quarters. Ruhui had once told Zhao Jin that Yuanxin and Runan's faction acted without any restraint, which naturally earned them many critics. To suppress these people, they used ruthless methods and strict rules. Aside from their own people, everyone else was harshly oppressed. Thus, within Cloud Mountain Temple, apart from the discontented dissenters, the rest were merely cringing mediocrities — people long accustomed to obedience, so there was no need to worry about them rising up to cause trouble.

At the root of it, once those thousand-plus monk soldiers were scattered, Cloud Mountain Temple was already defeated. Until it recovered, it was nothing but fish on Zhao Jin's chopping board — it only depended on what method Zhao Jin chose to carve it up.

Everything had gone smoothly, which was the expected outcome. Zhao Jin's face showed no overly excited expression, and his companions were all very calm as well. They had essentially just been standing guard at various points; the occasional resistance they encountered was not worth mentioning. Quite a few were even yawning. Zhenzhi dared not show the slightest negligence and personally saw Zhao Jin out.

"After I leave, keep Cloud Mountain Temple shut until nightfall. Then open the gates and send someone to report the incident to the authorities. Remember to send people to patrol everywhere — caution first."

"Please rest assured, Young Master Zhao." Now that both sides spoke without much reservation, Zhenzhi also dared to use this form of address openly.

They formed up briefly in the open ground west of Cloud Mountain Temple. The dry rations and hot soup prepared by the temple had been delivered before their arrival, and by now had gone somewhat cold. But every man in Zhao Camp was hungry and no one cared about such things; they wolfed it all down, then formed up again. Zhao Camp filed out in a column, while Zhao Jin walked at the very rear. Just as he was about to step through the gate, Zhao Jin turned back and asked, "Speaking of which, you have a blood feud with Yuanxin, Runan, and their lot. Why were you kept alive until now? By all logic, they had already taken full control of Cloud Mountain Temple!"

Zhenzhi froze for a moment, then a bitter smile surfaced on his face. Shaking his head, he said, "A temple this vast still needs people to keep up appearances. There must be monks to chant sutras and perform rites. Besides, this poor monk's lineage knows nothing of blades and spears, only the Buddha's teachings — keeping us around did no harm."

Zhao Jin also smiled and shook his head, then waved his hand to signal them to close the gate. The great doors, wide enough to admit ox carts and horse carriages, slowly swung shut. From the outside, Cloud Mountain Temple looked utterly silent and still; not a soul could be seen beyond its walls.

"Do not remove your head coverings. Head back down the way we came," Zhao Jin gave the order.

There were no enemies. Next was simply going home. The earlier battle had been straightforward — just killing, with no casualties on their side. Every man in Zhao Camp was in a lighthearted mood.

They passed through the woods and followed the mountain path they had taken on the way up. Before long, they reached the spot where the two large carts had been parked. Dong Bingfeng's horse was also tethered there. The two traveling merchants who had guided them had also been up most of the night, yet they dared not rest now, and had been peering anxiously in that direction the whole time. Only when they saw the masked Zhao Camp emerge did they breathe a sigh of relief, waving and calling out from where they stood.

"Master Jin..."

"Is there another place on this Cloud Dragon Mountain where people can be hidden? One that isn't on the same path as this one?" Zhao Jin cut off their pleasantries and asked directly.

"Not the same path?" One of them was a bit confused and muttered the question back.

"Right — a place you can't easily reach just by following this mountain path, and where you won't be seen by too many people on the way," Zhao Jin said.

The two guiding merchants exchanged a glance. One thought for a moment, then answered, "There is such a place, but it's not easy to get to..."

"Lead us there!" Zhao Jin decided crisply and without hesitation.

Moving on foot was easy enough, but the loaded carts and Dong Bingfeng's mount were not so easy to relocate. Zhao Jin arranged for the household troops to finish drinking the remaining water in the jars, then had a few men from the veteran squads escort the carts back to the He Family Compound. Dong Bingfeng, meanwhile, rode his horse along whatever passable path he could find, following them all the way to the destination.

This place turned out to be a mountain hollow, and the terrain was remarkably clever. From the outside, all one could see were jumbled rocks and low scrub, but inside lay a vast valley — spacious enough that several hundred men could fit inside without the slightest crowding.

"How did you two find this place?" Zhao Jin could not help feeling some curiosity.

"Don't laugh at us, Master Jin. A place as big as Xuzhou is mostly flat, wide-open land. Only here on Cloud Dragon Mountain are there some rises and ravines. In the old days, Xuzhou was where the Grand Canal linked north and south, so business could only be done around here. The officials were strict with their inspections, so we had to be diligent about hiding. After walking it enough times, we got to know every bit of these ten li of Cloud Dragon Mountain." Their explanation was eager and thorough. Anyone on the Jianghu circuit in Xuzhou knew that if you could curry favor with Zhao Jin, you'd have no worries at all.

Sentries had already been posted. The various squads of Zhao Camp relaxed, some sitting, some lying down. Zhao Jin's order at this moment was simple: wait for nightfall. Only Dong Bingfeng had no time to rest — after exchanging a few words with Zhao Jin, he mounted his horse, rode down the mountain, and disappeared into the distance.

Zhao Jin did not simply lie down and sleep. He found the two traveling merchants quite interesting and could not resist asking them a few more questions.

"Is business easy these days?"

"To answer Master Jin, times are very hard right now. Ever since the tribute grain route was shifted to the Ju River, the market in our Xuzhou has withered. No people, no goods, no money — naturally, there aren't any gaps for small-timers like us to slip through. Even if we can bring in some contraband goods from Pizhou, there's no one to buy them. These days, fellows like us just work for the big gangs and crews, earning a bit of bitter laborer's wages." At the mention of this, the two merchants grew rather wistful.

At this point, one of them smiled and said, "Thank goodness Master Jin opened his distillery. If a nobody like me is lucky enough to get his hands on two or three jars of Hanjing Famous Liquor and smuggle them out of the city, I can trade them for quite a bit of firewood and rice money."

"You rascal mix three catties of water into every catty of liquor — doing nothing but ruining Master Jin's reputation out there, and you still have the nerve to spout nonsense here!" The other one teased.

The moment those words left his mouth, both men's faces changed color. Instinctively, they moved to kowtow and beg forgiveness, but Zhao Jin only smiled and waved his hand. "Don't sell watered-down liquor anymore. I'll give you two jars a day — help Zhao spread the name of his liquor."

The two men were first stunned, then their faces flushed with excitement. Getting three or four jars a month had already been a stroke of luck for them. Now Zhao Jin was granting them a quota of sixty jars a month — this represented a very tidy income. Life had suddenly become much easier. They had thought a hundred and fifty taels per man was already a huge sum; they never expected this on top of it.

"Thank you, Master Jin! Thank you, Master Jin!" This time the two dared not be careless and hastily scrambled up to kowtow in thanks.

Zhao Jin smiled and stopped them, then asked again, "Give me your names. And also — what exactly is this business with the 'big gangs and crews'?"

At first, Zhao Jin had not even wanted to know these two men's names, because there had been no need. Now, it seemed they were worth cultivating. One was called Jiao Dazhu, the other Zhang Guan.

"... On the salt route, it's all men sent by the big bosses from Huai'an Prefecture transporting salt over — dozens of carts at a time, sometimes over a hundred. And the southern goods from the canal are hauled over by cart from Pizhou, distributed here in our Xuzhou territory, then loaded onto boats at Sanxian North Ferry to go on to Henan... Dozens, even over a hundred large carts at a time, with more than a hundred guards alone, plus official connections — no one dares touch them, let alone try to get a piece of the action." These two were true locals who knew every inch of the territory. Jiao Dazhu laid it out very clearly.

"It seems there's also grain coming over from Pizhou — that belongs to the tribute grain crowd. That bunch even has ties to the Smelling Incense Sect. The Xuzhou Jianghu certainly doesn't dare mess with them either," Zhang Guan added from the side.

Zhao Jin nodded slowly. Contraband salt, southern goods, and grain siphoned from the tribute grain system — he knew about all of these. Sanxian North Ferry was less than ten li from He Family Village. Knowing was one thing, but when Zhao Camp had first arrived at He Family Village, securing their foothold had been the top priority; they had no attention to spare for other matters.

As they chatted on, Zhao Jin felt drowsiness washing over him. Everything that needed arranging had been arranged, everything that needed doing had been done. What remained was simply to wait. Sunlight spilled into the mountain hollow, warming Zhao Jin all over, and before he knew it, he had drifted off to sleep.

Inside Xuzhou city, nothing had changed from before Zhao Jin left. Many had thought that with Zhao Jin gone, they could relax and enjoy themselves a bit — but nothing changed at all.

Zhao Jin had left, but Wang Zhaojing remained. Nearly a hundred household troops were permanently stationed inside the city, and that was more than enough to keep things unchanged. A few days earlier, just after Zhao Jin left, there had been a day when something went wrong with one of the distilling vats — the liquor output dropped. According to the rules Zhao Jin had set, the amount of liquor sold that day also decreased. A liquor buyer flew into a rage and threw a huge tantrum outside.

This was a first. When Zhao Jin was still in Xuzhou city, nothing like this had ever happened. It was hard to say whether this merchant's outburst was simply a fit of temper he could not control, or because Zhao Jin was absent. The merchant even went so far as to shout arrogant words like "I'll smash this distillery of yours!"

But his arrogance went no further than that. The household troops inside the distillery charged out, pinned the merchant to the ground, and gave him a savage beating. Then all the liquor already sold to him was carried back inside. The assistants the merchant had brought with him did think about fighting back, but unfortunately for them, besides clubs and staves, there were also spears pointed their way.

The onlookers all thought the merchant had brought this on himself and would quiet down after the beating. No one expected him to go straight to the yamen and file a complaint, claiming that Hanjing Distillery was engaging in forced sales and had beaten him, causing injury. This wasn't exactly a lie — after all, his face was bruised and swollen. To have such nerve — and everyone saw that it was a clerk of some standing from the Punishment Office who came out to receive him. Those familiar with how things worked found it strange. Had this man gone mad?

Not long after, however, several constables emerged, grabbed the merchant directly, and hauled him inside, their movements exceedingly rough. That clerk's face filled with fury, and he raised his voice, ready to shout curses. Unexpectedly, Clerk Li of the Punishment Office also came out and, without the slightest regard for face, gave his subordinate a thorough dressing-down.

When that merchant came out, his face was covered with lash marks and his arm had been broken. He was simply dumped on the street in front of the yamen gate, and there were even people who viciously spat on him a few times.

Someone came to take him away, but the runners from the Arrest Office would not release him. In the end, it took several dozen taels of silver before he could get free. Once this news spread through the city, everyone was reminded anew of one thing: Zhao Jin might not be here, but his properties and his power were still not something anyone could afford to offend.

The next day, vague, ambiguous rumors began circulating through the city — that merchant was one of Xue Xiaozong's men, the owner and head manager of Cloud Mountain Firm. The previous night, Xue Xiaozong had sent out several lavish gifts: one to His Excellency Prefect Tong, one to the Zhao household, one to the Chen household, and one to the Arrest Office.

At this point, even those who had not understood now understood. Seeing Zhao Jin leave the city, this Young Master Xue of Cloud Mountain Firm had wanted to test the waters — and had ended up with a face full of dust.

Only then did everyone recall: Zhao Jin was a powerful magnate, and his father was also a figure of some standing in Xuzhou city — not to mention that Chen Sheng's father was the Chief Constable. These were people equally impossible to offend. It was then, with some wry amusement, that everyone realized: in the past, Zhao Jin, Chen Sheng, and their group had shone so dazzlingly bright that hardly anyone ever paid attention to their fathers' generation.

Butcher Li and Chen Ergou likewise dared not stir. Zhao Jin stood high above them — and Zhao Zhentang and Chen Wu stood just as high above them. Moreover, when Zhao Jin had delegated authority before, he could not oversee every fine detail. Now, Zhao Zhentang and Chen Wu had been constables for so many years; they were even more the local bosses than their sons, knowing every trick and turn, even keeping a tight watch on the smallest details — making life even harder for those two to endure.

And the matter did not end there. By noon the next day, Cloud Mountain Firm and Cloud Mountain Tower found it impossible to do business. Beggars and vagrants blocked their doorways and refused to leave. If they tried to use force, the beggars and vagrants would brawl with them — and once blood was drawn, they would roll on the ground, wailing and making a scene. If constables were called, the constables ignored the beggars and vagrants and instead tried to arrest the ones who had thrown the punches. If they tried to pay them off, the beggars took the money and still refused to leave.

On top of this, Cloud Mountain Firm and Cloud Mountain Tower could no longer get a single jar of liquor. This loss to their business was real and substantial. Xuzhou city had little commerce to begin with; without this liquor to draw customers in, no one paid them any attention at all.

After all this turmoil, Xue Xiaozong had no choice but to spend more money and even make certain guarantees before he could get his businesses running again.

Word of what happened at Cloud Mountain Firm and Cloud Mountain Tower also reached Zhao Jin. He did not pay it much mind — it was entirely within expectations. Cloud Mountain Temple traded sorghum for liquor, a deal that brought great profit to both sides. But the two parties were absolutely not collaborators; they were enemies. Cloud Mountain Temple would keep probing and harassing without end. Let such petty tricks be.

Although he had led a large force out of Xuzhou city with a grand show of momentum, and no one, high or low, thought he was fleeing or being forced out, leaving was still leaving. To most people, the prefectural seat was the heart of the Xuzhou region — especially since this was where Zhao Jin had built his rise, with the distillery and everything else inside the city. Leaving here, in a certain sense, meant losing influence. That was why Xue Xiaozong had tested the waters.

This probe, however, proved one thing to all those in Xuzhou city who harbored ideas: even with Zhao Jin not in the city, the prefectural seat still had to answer to him.

What had happened at Cloud Mountain Temple was, of course, unknown inside Xuzhou city. Yet people passing by Cloud Mountain Firm and Cloud Mountain Tower still found it strange. On such fine weather, with folk from all around making a rare trip into the city, why were Cloud Mountain Firm and Cloud Mountain Tower not doing business? Their gates were shut tight. And while the front doors of Cloud Mountain Firm were closed, quite a few carts and horses were parked at the back, and the noise of a crowd could be heard from the rear courtyard even from outside.

"Crack!" — the sound of something inside shattering, followed immediately by a woman's shrill, furious cursing.

"You idiot, this big vase is top-grade stuff from Suzhou…"

"Shut your mouth! Never mind that, just hurry up and move it!" Another impatient, furious shout rang out, and silence fell at once.

The weather was clear, yet even sitting indoors one still needed to wear a lined robe. But Xue Xiaozong's forehead was covered in sweat, his complexion deathly pale. He held a teacup in his hands, but the cup and its lid kept clattering together, producing a continuous rattling sound — because Xue Xiaozong's hands would not stop trembling.

Kong Jiuying had said he would send three hundred mounted troops, while their own side would commit one thousand one hundred monk-soldiers. With luck, those men could even take the city of Xuzhou, so how could they fail to overrun the He Family Estate? Word was that over half the monk-soldiers had been killed or wounded. And just as he was hopping mad, cursing Kong Jiuying for betraying his trust, the messenger had added a reminder: even without the Kong family's mounted troops, Zhao Jin had still mauled our monk-soldiers. Young master, you didn't see it — he fought his way out with nothing but spears.

Young men in their teens, fewer than six hundred in all, barely established at He Village — how could they have routed a force several times their size? Xue Xiaozong clearly remembered Ru Nan telling him that these thousand or so monk-soldiers of Cloud Mountain Temple would count as elite troops even in the Great Ming army, that at a critical moment they could be expanded to over ten thousand and sweep across Xuzhou without equal.

"…Bragging, all bragging. Who knows how much they skimmed off…" Xue Xiaozong cursed, his mind unmoored. The moment he opened his mouth, even his teeth chattered.

Xue Xiaozong was not merely venting. He had seen it with his own eyes years ago: a manor under the Dangshan Lower Temple had risen in revolt. The tenants there called on friends and kin and gathered over a thousand people. Three hundred monk-soldiers marched in and scattered those rioting villagers and tenants utterly — like tigers among sheep.

A force that strong, beaten so badly — just how powerful was this Zhao Jin? And how had he himself ended up in a blood feud with such a man?

Terror gripped Xue Xiaozong's heart. He knew the Zhao family's strength inside Xuzhou city was immense, and that if he stayed in the city, calamity was certain. The only course now was to flee at once — leave this city of Xuzhou and go elsewhere.

Impatient as he was, terrified as he was, Xue Xiaozong had not lost his reason. He knew Zhao Jin was powerful and ruthless, but he also knew the prefectural city was where the king's law held sway. Zhao Jin and the forces tied to him could not simply smash down his door. He still had time to prepare his departure. Yet Xue Xiaozong could not shake a deep unease in his heart.

Xue Xiaozong had been through many things. With Cloud Mountain Temple at his back, everything had always gone smoothly. In Xue Xiaozong's view, everything Zhao Jin now possessed was nothing but luck — he had made his fortune off liquor and raised a gang of thugs. Moreover, the family elders kept a tight watch, always making Zhao Jin hide inside the tortoise shell of Xuzhou city, leaving outsiders no opening. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been ambushed by assassins halfway to Gao Village.