Chapter 313: Is It Betrayal?

Anda Khan had embraced Tantric Buddhism, drowning himself in wine and women, his will to invade gone. His tribe and the Great Ming gradually found peace. As for the Wokou pirates, famed generals emerged one after another and drove them completely from the coast. The Great Ming held on just like that — and held on rather well, at that.

As for factional strife — when has the court ever been free of it? Even if Zhao Jin didn't understand the Ming political landscape well, he'd heard Wang Zhaojing talk about it far too many times.

The most critical point was this: Zhao Jin knew the Great Ming was doomed. He knew the sovereign who would lose the kingdom was the Chongzhen Emperor. He knew about Li Zicheng's Chuang army and the Manchu Eight Banners. But the emperor on the throne right now was the Wanli Emperor, so he naturally had the confidence to say the realm wouldn't descend into chaos. Yet Zhao Jin himself felt a certain helplessness — he had a rough grasp of the beginning and the end, but how many years lay in between, and what happened during them, he hadn't the slightest clue.

Many of the examples and arguments Zhao Jin used in rebuttal were things Wang Zhaojing had once told him. Otherwise, he couldn't possibly have been so well-versed in matters like Anda Khan.

Listening to him, Wang Zhaojing was left speechless. Zhao Jin laughed and said, "What preparations? If you want to live well on Xuzhou soil, if you don't want to be bullied, you need your own strength. That distillery of ours is a goldmine — without a few hundred men, how could you protect it? The ones coming to seize it, the ones scheming in the shadows — it's been more than one wave. Besides, I'm a hereditary officer of the guard — if I don't pursue military affairs, what else would I do?"

Zhao Jin would never admit to what Wang Zhaojing had said, of course. Foreseeing that the realm would descend into chaos and therefore stockpiling men and arms in preparation — that reason alone was a capital crime punishable by the extermination of one's entire clan. They were brothers, true, but in a matter like this, no amount of caution was too much.

"Brother Zhao... Big Brother, do you think that because I want to focus on the imperial examinations and official rank, I'm betraying the Zhao Character Camp, that I'm letting everyone down?" Wang Zhaojing paused and asked, his expression deeply uneasy as he looked at Zhao Jin.

Zhao Jin started, turned his head to glance at Wang Zhaojing, and laughed in spite of himself. "With your family background, with a scholarly seed like you — if you didn't pursue the examinations, if you didn't rise and shine on the path of official rank and career, that would be the truly strange thing. We're brothers — what betrayal, what letting anyone down? You're overthinking it!"

"Big Brother!" Wang Zhaojing shouted, his voice a bit too loud, piercing and jarring in the night. The household guards keeping watch nearby immediately looked over.

Wang Zhaojing waved his hand sternly, and the guard at once turned his head away. The guards were used to seeing Wang Zhaojing as gentle and refined, always mild-mannered. That harsh expression, lit by the lantern glow, was deeply startling.

"Big Brother, someone as steady as Dasheng has said that about me more than once. Everyone was besieged at the He Estate by monk-soldiers and horse bandits, while I was safe and sound inside the city. If that's not betrayal, then what is?" Wang Zhaojing was somewhat agitated, his words losing their measure.

The smile vanished from Zhao Jin's face. He turned and looked at Wang Zhaojing for a moment, then said in a deep voice, "We grew up together. We've faced life and death together, stood shoulder to shoulder against enemies. Of course we're brothers, we're friends. But the path is one you choose yourself, one you walk yourself. You really are overthinking this."

After spending so much time together, Wang Zhaojing felt he understood Zhao Jin quite well. Yet for some reason, he always felt that Zhao Jin seemed to keep a certain distance from everyone. That distance didn't mean Zhao Jin would abandon his companions and flee when fighting side by side, nor that he would betray his friends if they were caught by the authorities for their lawless, death-defying schemes. Wang Zhaojing knew Zhao Jin was trustworthy in every situation — but he still felt that distance.

At this very moment, Wang Zhaojing felt as if he was seeing the real Zhao Jin. But these words were spoken with such sincerity that for a moment, he didn't know how to argue back.

"I... I..." Wang Zhaojing got two words out and couldn't find a way to continue. He suddenly saw Zhao Jin's hand move to the saber hilt at his waist. Just as he was about to ask, Wang Zhaojing sensed someone behind him too.

"... Scholars and their overactive minds. You're just looking out for yourself — was I wrong to say so?" A voice came from behind.

"Dasheng!" Zhao Jin raised his voice, his hand already moving away from the saber hilt.

Anger first surged across Wang Zhaojing's face, then deflated into embarrassment, and finally settled into a wry smile. He turned his head to look back but offered no retort.

"Were you safe and sound inside the city? Today your horse died, your face got torn up..." The usually taciturn Chen Sheng rarely spoke this much. But seeing Zhao Jin's stern expression, he fell silent too, simply walking over on his own to sit down on Zhao Jin's other side. Though the cart, unloaded of its draft animals, was propped at all four corners with wooden stakes, it still shuddered when Chen Sheng sat down.

Once seated, Chen Sheng didn't continue targeting Wang Zhaojing. He simply gazed at the distant lantern light atop the city wall and said, "When I woke up, I thought I'd overslept."

By now the conversation had reached a point where Zhao Jin's words were already quite awkward, and Chen Sheng's remark was even more blunt. Given Wang Zhaojing's usual temperament, he would have left long ago. But he stayed seated where he was, silent for a while before saying, "This damned world — the only thing you can truly rely on is the blade in your hand."

It was unclear whether he was speaking to the others or to himself, but neither Zhao Jin nor Chen Sheng responded. The three of them sat there in silence, side by side, watching the lantern light atop the gate tower.

Zhao Jin was jolted awake by the acrid smell of smoke and fire and the clamor of voices. When he woke, he found himself lying on the large cart, a woolen felt blanket draped over him.

He opened his eyes and immediately shut them again. The sunlight was blinding — it must have been bright daylight for a while. The air was thick with a pungent, acrid smell. At first whiff it was almost fragrant, like roasted meat slightly burnt. Then Zhao Jin realized what it was, and his stomach churned; he felt like vomiting.

When he sat up, he indeed saw the scene he had expected. The open ground between the camp and Xuzhou city was swarming with busy bailiffs and commoners. Corpses were being hauled together, and once the pile was large enough, firewood and straw were heaped on and set ablaze.

By the fifth or sixth month, the Xuzhou weather was already very hot. After a day and a night, these bodies were already prone to rotting. If they weren't burned soon, they could easily trigger a great plague, and the people of Xuzhou would suffer yet again. Everyone inside and outside the city understood this logic. Mobilizing able-bodied civilians and local militia was simple enough — everyone was eager to help.

Of the refugees who had collapsed the day before, most of the wounded could not survive the night. Even those who were merely weak and exhausted, with no real injuries — the delusional faith that had sustained them from Shandong to Xuzhou had shattered. Nothing remained to keep them going, and they had died there, silent and unnoticed.

Many of the militia groups that had followed from other places had long since woken up. With able-bodied men pouring out from the city in great numbers, there was naturally no reason to put the benefactor reinforcements to work. They were at leisure as well and had long been waiting at the edge of the Zhao Character Camp. The moment they saw Zhao Jin awake, they came over to pay their respects.

Hearing their reports, Zhao Jin breathed a sigh of relief. Under these circumstances, the refugees who had fled were even less of a concern — they would die as they walked, steadily weakening along the way.

As for the "core members" among the refugee horde, many had already been killed or wounded in yesterday's fierce battle. Moreover, these men were only truly troublesome when they had a mass of refugee cannon fodder swept along with them. If they came to fight alone, the Zhao Character Camp would not fear them in the slightest.

"Master Jin worked hard yesterday. You should go into the city and rest well. We out here are more than enough to handle things!" a militia leader said obsequiously.

The moment he spoke, the others all chimed in. One particularly quick-witted fellow added, "Yesterday we received Master Jin's great kindness. Our clans will certainly want to express profound gratitude. When the time comes, we will definitely prepare lavish gifts and come to repay the favor."

Hearing this, the others suddenly understood. They were mere martial men, leading their local militia and village braves — men of some standing in their own locales, true, but above them were clan elders and family heads who held authority. With Master Jin's status so lofty, what use was their own thanks and gratitude? It was their elders and masters whose presence would carry weight. Even if the status still didn't match, at least it was a little closer.

And if one thought a layer deeper — seeing Master Jin's peerless martial valor, no one could think of anyone else who would be the foremost figure on Xuzhou soil from now on. Coming to kowtow early was better than coming late. Look at those fellows Tian Ying and Lin Er — before this, who in the whole prefecture and its four counties even knew who they were? Now they were actually core subordinates under Master Jin, and their militia units looked the part too. They couldn't be looked down on anymore!

Zhao Jin smiled and stood up from the cart. He first swept his gaze around. The Zhao Character Camp's squads were all in good order. His companions were each managing their own area of responsibility. Seeing him look over, they all waved in greeting. Wang Zhaojing had not left; he was in the camp too, with the men he'd brought from the city.

The cavalry and horse teams, however, had already been sent out. In the distance, he could see a dozen or so riders racing this way. The one at the head seemed to be Dong Bingfeng.

Seeing that his brothers and men were all present, Zhao Jin finally clasped his fists toward the crowd gathered below and said, "Everyone is being far too formal. I, Zhao, have yet to thank you all for your righteous aid yesterday. We're all fellow countrymen of Xuzhou. I've been busy with affairs in the past and haven't had the chance to build ties. From now on, we should get to know each other better."

The crowd around him fell silent for a moment, then the atmosphere grew even more spirited. Capable, powerful men usually had no small temper, and at Zhao Jin's age, he was bound to be even more youthful and hot-blooded. Everyone had been mentally prepared for that. They hadn't expected Zhao Jin to be so amiable in his bearing. They were first surprised, then delighted. Dealing with a man like this was far easier than dealing with a brute.

Before those below could start their flattery, Zhao Jin waved his hand again and said, "We're all brothers who've shared life and death. No need for polite words. From now on, when you come to the He Estate, there'll be wine and meat aplenty. I, Zhao, may not have much else, but fine liquor — that I have in abundance. Come and drink your fill!"

A roar of approval erupted below. This manner won hearts even more than the previous words. Those who had come here were all blade-wielding, spear-dancing fighting men. They liked rough, bold ways, and now they felt even closer to him.

"Master Jin's fine liquor — usually you can't even get a taste! This time we've hit the jackpot!" someone said, and everyone burst into roaring laughter.

Zhao Jin, still on horseback, laughed along with them before saying, "No need for everyone to rush off just yet. Wait until you've received the money and grain to cover this expedition's expenses before heading back. After putting in this much effort, there's no reason to go home empty-handed, is there? There's still plenty of good wine stored in the city — take some back with you, let the folks at home have a taste."

"Good!" someone else shouted, and everyone cheered in agreement. The atmosphere was heated beyond measure.

Everyone was delighted. They had gathered to pay their respects partly to curry favor, and partly for this very reward and funeral compensation. Yet in just a few words, Zhao Jin had agreed to all of it, putting everyone at ease and making them happy all at once.