Chapter 362

What everyone could do was more or less the same — every figure and power with a name and reputation on Xuzhou's ground sent over their own sons, nephews, and brothers.

As long as the age was right, those who could mobilize a few hundred able-bodied men usually sent the family's second son, third son, and nephews; those with a hundred or so able-bodied men simply bundled all their sons over at once; and those with just a few dozen men thought it over and came to join up directly, bringing their whole band with them.

As for the several places under He Village's joint-village mutual defense, along with Provincial Graduate Cai Zhengqiu's group, and those local strongmen who had come to help midway during the relief of Xuzhou — they all turned out in full force, and anyone qualified and willing to train with blade and spear came to join up.

Word had it that You Zhenrong, now said to be the man whose word carried the most weight in Xuzhou city, sighed deeply in private, knocked his own head against the wall, and even shed tears in front of his sons, saying, "Your father here was a fool back then. Master Jin took the initiative to bring you along, but your father here refused him. If we had gone over then, great prospects would be ours from now on."

The young and able-bodied gathered around He Village were no longer the same as before — quite a few spirited young talents in fine clothes and on spirited horses, bows on their backs and swords at their sides, had appeared. He Village was extremely busy at this time; the village households inside were moving out, bricks, timber, earth, and stone for construction were being hauled in from the city, a brick kiln had to be built nearby, and large numbers of craftsmen were rushing over. Besides training, Zhao's Camp had also increased patrol and sentry time, strictly forbidding unauthorized persons from approaching, so the rental prices of houses everywhere around Zhao's Camp were soaring fiercely.

Zhou Xuezhi took the lead; Shi Manqiang's father and the monk from Cloud Mountain Temple in charge of construction all came to stay at He Village. Rebuilding and construction, a thousand threads and ten thousand strands — they were so busy they could barely keep up.

The only thing easy to solve was labor. The refugees distributed in various places were rotated in shifts to He Village to work — there was no such thing as eating for free. Digging earth and pits, smashing walls and hauling loads — their figures could be seen everywhere.

Zhao Jin delegated all the matters down and thought he could have some leisure — read those official gazettes, study firearms. He never expected he couldn't get any leisure either. The gentry and notables from all over Xuzhou, whether qualified by status or not, all came to pay visits and request audiences, currying favor in every way, and also coming with various proposals. The situation in Xuzhou was certain to change; everyone in Xuzhou, high and low, would have to heed this Young Master Zhao. Everyone wanted to gain some advantage in this changing situation, or at the very least maintain their own standing unchanged.

"... My commander said that Master Jin counts as a junior of his generation. In these several major events in Xuzhou, my commander and his subordinates all earned no small amount of merit, and he owes Master Jin a debt of gratitude. So whatever Master Jin wants to do, he supports it. From now on, anything flying Master Jin's banner — our side will absolutely not lay a hand on it, and where we should help, we certainly will..."

In Zhao Jin's study, two men sat facing each other. Zhao Jin sat there with the bold, expansive posture of a great man, while a middle-aged scholar in his thirties perched on the edge of his chair, leaning his body forward as he spoke to Zhao Jin. Ruhui stood behind Zhao Jin.

This middle-aged scholar was dressed entirely in the manner of a private secretary or advisor. At this point he instinctively glanced left and right, then continued, "My commander said, since our relationship is so good, drawing blades would only harm our harmony. As long as Master Jin's side doesn't do anything too treasonous or outrageous, both sides will remain friends."

"Under this bright sky, in this age of peace and prosperity, I, Zhao, come from a guard background, and my father draws the court's silver pay — how could I do anything treasonous or outrageous? Secretary Zhou's words go too far. However, I, Zhao, understand Regional Commander Zhou's meaning, and I ask Secretary Zhou to convey this in return: Regional Commander Zhou's businesses in Xuzhou, I, Zhao, will not touch. When there's money to be made, everyone makes it together. If anything comes up, let's meet and talk it over first, then handle it — that is indeed better than harming our harmony," Zhao Jin said in a steady, measured tone.

Secretary Zhou, all smiles, nodded repeatedly, chatted idly a while longer, and even mentioned that Regional Commander Zhou had a few veteran soldiers under his command who couldn't sit idle and were willing to come to Zhao Jin's side to draw a wage, asking Master Jin to take them in. Only after saying this did he take his leave respectfully.

Although a regional commander's advisor and private secretary could sit as an equal before a department magistrate, he still lacked the standing to be escorted out of the courtyard by Zhao Jin. Ruhui saw him out in Zhao Jin's stead, and upon returning, said with a smile, "Regional Commander Zhou, riding on the merits earned through our employer, could pretty much get himself a Chief Regional Commander post. And yet he puts on this hypocritical show of mutual non-interference — truly stingy."

Zhao Jin stood up, poured a cup of tea, and said with a smile, "I suspect Kong Jiuying had some collusion or tacit understanding with this Regional Commander Zhou. That's why, once Kong Jiuying was wiped out, Regional Commander Zhou came knocking immediately — either out of fear, or out of worry."

Hearing Zhao Jin's analysis, Ruhui started, then slowly nodded and said, "There are probably some shady dealings that can't see the light of day. If we were to speak of them, it would bring him great trouble. Today's visit was partly a goodwill gesture, and partly a warning. Regional Commander Zhou has nearly a thousand cavalry and over ten thousand infantry under his command — our employer must still treat him with caution."

"Let's go out for a look. I've received too many people these past few days — I can't help slipping into bureaucratic talk when I speak!" Zhao Jin drained his tea and said with a laugh.

"Our employer's responses were perfectly proper — how can that be called bureaucratic talk?" Ruhui offered a flattering remark.

The two walked into the courtyard, and Zhao Jin suddenly said, "Regional Commander Zhou's jurisdiction stretches north to Ji'ning in Shandong, west to Shangluo in Henan, south to Fengyang Prefectural City, and east to the sea. Such a vast territory relies on his thousand-odd cavalry and ten-thousand-odd infantry to hold. In ordinary times, when something happens, it's manageable, but when a major incident occurs, he can only muster his forces. This time, putting down the unrest in Pizhou, Regional Commander Zhou only assembled a bit over three thousand infantry. And we, right now, can gather three thousand able-bodied men at any time."

What seemed like idle chat on his part made Ruhui's whole body jolt. He hurriedly lowered his voice and said, "Employer, watch your words. Although Xuzhou has seen many upheavals these past two years, the realm is still perfectly peaceful, and the Great Ming has far more than just this one Regional Commander."

"I was just speaking casually. Aren't you overthinking it?" Zhao Jin looked at him with a faint, ambiguous smile. Ruhui paused, then smiled back with knowing understanding.

From the time they began rebuilding He Village, everyone finally understood the use of the refugees — large-scale earthworks. Building brick kilns nearby, refurbishing the ferry crossing, and since Xuzhou, though situated by the Yellow River, often suffered drought, digging channels to divert water for irrigation was also a matter of course.

The old grain stockpiled in various places, and the sorghum used for brewing liquor, were all thrown into refugee relief. Although it didn't affect normal operations, the dwindling of the stockpiles always made people worry.

What surprised Zhao Jin's side was that grain had begun to be shipped over from Pizhou. Around the time of the refugees' large-scale southward migration, selling liquor at Yutou Town in Pizhou could only bring in silver. While that wasn't bad, compared to the profits from trading tribute grain for liquor and then trading fine grain for sorghum — flipping it through several hands — it was ultimately far less.

Moreover, ever since that slaughter beneath the city walls, Zhao Jin's side also understood that they had likely forged a deep, blood-deep enmity with the Smelling Incense Sect, and this business might not be possible in the future.

They never expected that before the aftershocks of that great battle had even subsided, the tribute-grain-for-liquor trade had already restarted, and on a truly considerable scale. This left Zhao Jin and his companions not knowing whether to laugh or cry, and they arrived at a conclusion: whether it was the official authorities or private parties, or even a sect with sinister designs, everyone shared one thing in common — the drive to get rich and make money.

Large quantities of polished rice entered Xuzhou from Pizhou, and quite a bit was also traded directly on the spot in Pizhou, exchanged for coarse grain or other goods, then transported into Xuzhou by land and water. There were even cases where, once the deal was settled here, the tribute grain and goods traveled north or south without ever touching Xuzhou, while the other side simply shipped goods into Xuzhou from elsewhere.

Hanjing Famous Liquor sold farther and farther afield. In Shanxi and Shaanxi, and even in Northern Zhili and the Liao Garrison, many people had tasted Hanjing Famous Liquor. The reasonably priced, richly mellow white liquor perfectly suited the needs of the northern common folk, and its price here rose steadily along with demand.

However, the output of this distilled liquor had only increased by less than thirty percent. Zhao Jin wanted to keep ample reserve for himself — before the refugees' military farm colonies yielded a harvest, he had to build up as much stockpile as possible.

The marriage negotiations between the Zhao and Xu families were also proceeding in an orderly fashion. Zhao Jin and Xu Zhenzhen were currently both of commoner status, but given their respective standing, it couldn't possibly be handled as simply as it would for a truly humble household. The Six Rites — presenting betrothal gifts, asking for the bride's name, seeking auspicious omens, sending the formal betrothal gifts, requesting the wedding date, and the wedding procession itself — a protocol reserved for those of official rank, naturally had to be carried out step by step.

But the people on both sides handling the matter all knew each other's thoughts: the ritual formalities weren't important; what mattered was that they ended up together in the end. So everyone moved as quickly as possible.

If an ordinary family, or even an official's household, had done it this way, they would certainly have been ridiculed from all sides. But since it involved Zhao Jin and Xu Zhenzhen, everyone lavishly praised it as having an ancient elegance — or else called it a refreshing new spirit.

During this busy period, Wang Zhaojing had someone bring back two letters. The letters first inquired after everyone's recent situation, then said he himself was doing well, that he would return to help as soon as the exams were over, and also remarked that staying too long in Xuzhou was like a frog at the bottom of a well, and that everyone should get out and see more of the world.

On the twenty-fifth day of the seventh month, Wang Ziyang set off with a large shipment of white liquor. He left a full month and a half earlier than in previous years. Aside from his camels, he had sold off all his other livestock — Zhao Jin himself bought a great deal, and Cloud Mountain Temple bought a great deal. Wang Ziyang and his fellow cattle and horse traders had thought that breaking even this year would be the best they could hope for; they never expected to earn over thirty percent more than in ordinary years.

Not to mention that the liquor they brought back was a full forty percent cheaper than the market price, and they received two hundred jars more than their prearranged quota. They had helped Zhao Jin without holding back the slightest effort, and those Tartar hands had been of great use at a critical moment — Zhao Jin's repayment was equally straightforward.

The slaughter over at Kong Village had finally reached its conclusion. The Feng County yamen, citing civil unrest, mustered over two thousand local militia and village braves, with the Xu family contributing greatly to the effort. In one stroke, they swept away the remnants of Kong Village and the bandits and mounted raiders still tangled in fighting there. The spoils were enormous, and thirty percent had already been set aside for Zhao Jin's side.

The weather was turning cold now. By the eighth month, at dawn, dusk, and night, one had to wear two layers; only at high noon was it still somewhat hot.

The bustle around He Village had also reached its peak. The young men sent over from all directions now numbered close to five thousand. Those with money rented lodgings in civilian homes; those without made do in the open fields. Young and hot-blooded, they inevitably clashed with one another. Zhao's Camp and the militia and village braves from the mutual-defense areas worked in continuous shifts, suppressing trouble and making arrests everywhere. They even borrowed the familiar horse teams. Wherever trouble broke out, without asking who was right or wrong, they went in first and dealt out a thorough beating.