Chapter 392: People Are the Foundation

392. Chapter 392: People Are the Foundation

On the twenty-first day of the tenth month, two companies of the Zhao Character Camp's Second Regiment, one hundred and fifty men from the joint village and joint tithing militia, and over forty people including account-house managers and even some from the rivers and lakes, set out under Lei Cai's leadership for the Kong Family Estate region. Word had been sent long before: all of Kong Jiuying's former properties would be taken over entirely by the Zhao Character Camp. Before they even departed, the Xu family had already organized several hundred able-bodied laborers to go over.

In the forty-fourth year of the Wanli reign, the first snow of winter in Xuzhou fell on the twenty-fifth of the tenth month. The snowflakes were not heavy, but everyone could feel the piercing cold that was about to arrive.

That day, the Zhao Character Camp at He Family Village was extraordinarily busy, because near nightfall, several thousand people arrived at the village — to be precise, several thousand refugees from Fengyang Prefecture.

Porridge sheds had long since been set up here at He Family Village. At the time, it was said to be in response to the call of Cloud Mountain Temple, to accumulate merit for the people of Xuzhou, and so they would follow along in doing good deeds. The moment this explanation came out, absolutely no one believed it; they only guessed there was another purpose. Since when would the Zhao Character Camp heed the call of Cloud Mountain Temple? It was truly a joke.

Yet the porridge sheds were built just like that, and the grain stored in Little Stone Village and the surrounding hamlets began to be transported over, all carried out with an air of great seriousness. But not a single disaster victim was seen, because a rule had long been in place here: beggars and such were treated as vagrants, seized and sent to work in the farmsteads. Which of those rivers-and-lakes beggars would still dare come here? No one expected that this setup would be put to use today.

Thick congee bubbled in the great cauldrons. Stewards holding chopsticks patrolled each cauldron, thrusting a chopstick into the pot; only if the chopstick stood upright without falling was it deemed acceptable. If the chopstick toppled, rice had to be added at once — all to make this meal as substantial as possible.

The wooden bowls and wooden spoons were all quite crude, but the quantity was sufficient, because those refugees who had come from Shandong worked during the day and busied themselves with this at night. For every wooden bowl and spoon they made, they would receive one wen; for five, they would get six wen.

The refugees from Fengyang were no better off than those who had come from Shandong back then. The only advantage was that they were not so frantic. They were simply searching in despair, looking for a place where they could find a path to survival.

After drinking hot congee and hot water here at He Family Village, many people wailed and wept bitterly. There were also many whose health was too poor, who collapsed and died upon reaching He Family Village. The string they had held taut for so long suddenly snapped, and their entire being could no longer hold on. Because of this, a separate patch of open ground was set aside not far from He Family Village, used solely for cremation and burial. Flames blazed skyward, and black smoke billowed into the heavens.

So many refugees really did come. Everyone in Xuzhou who learned of it was dumbfounded, but they also breathed a sigh of relief, because the porridge sheds had been set up in advance, so there was no fear of any major incident. Some with sharper minds thought further: had they known all along these people would come? Or had the porridge sheds been built precisely to attract refugees? Of course, the clever ones would not speak recklessly.

Some were also astonished, saying that several thousand refugees had converged here. The Zhao Character Camp in Xuzhou might have given prior notice, so no one was alarmed, but how could the authorities on the ground in Suzhou, Fengyang Prefecture, possibly not know? There were also traveling merchants who plied the route between Fengyang and Xuzhou at this time who said that even when walking the official roads, they never saw any large bands of refugees. Occasionally they would glimpse government troops and militia, and occasionally they would spot a group of over a hundred people in the distance, but upon drawing near, they would find the people had vanished. Looking more closely, they would discover the people had hidden themselves on either side of the road or up in the hills.

The refugees of Fengyang Prefecture advanced just like this, in small squads of about a hundred, led by the most capable among them, and then guided by men familiar with the Xuzhou territory. They would merge into a large group at the prefectural border, and upon entering Xuzhou's boundaries, someone would distribute dry rations and relief supplies.

The weather had already turned cold. Many refugees, afflicted by both freezing cold and hunger, died on the official roads, but no one mourned or lamented. Now, at last, there was a sliver of hope ahead of them.

But by this point, not everyone still wanted to flee. Frozen, starving, and in despair, they felt that even being beasts of burden, horses, or slaves would be acceptable — after all, that meant being alive. There were also large numbers of people who emerged from the mountain forests and returned to their hometowns.

Yet returning was one thing; those who had occupied their land did not give them a single grain of rice, leaving them to live or die on their own. They would only have value when spring came and it was time to plow and sow.

Having endured this, some could only set out fleeing once more. The rule in Fengyang Prefecture, however, was that within the villages you were common subjects; wandering elsewhere made you bandits, roving thieves, and outlaws — to be killed without mercy.

To be killed, to starve to death, or to go to Xuzhou in search of that sliver of hope — anyone with a clear mind knew how to choose. And not everyone headed north. By the end of the forty-fourth year of the Wanli reign, in Luzhou Prefecture, Chuzhou, Huai'an Prefecture, Yangzhou Prefecture, and other places around Fengyang Prefecture, prices in the human markets had all plummeted. Whether for able-bodied adults used for labor, or for the widely useful boys and girls, prices had fallen by over thirty percent compared to previous years.

The refugees made a brief stop at He Family Village, ate something, and after a simple screening, they would be escorted by companies of the Zhao Character Camp to the Cloud Mountain Temple branch estates and farmsteads in Xiao County and Dangshan. Some refugees would be settled there, while others would wait for the Yellow River to freeze over, then cross the river to the Kong Family Estate area.

Now there was already floating ice on the Yellow River, making travel by boat extremely perilous. They could only wait.

"The first wave was over thirty-five hundred, the second over three hundred, the third twelve hundred, the fourth five hundred. No one has come in the last three days. These people can be fully settled in the farmsteads of the Xiao County branch temple; we won't even need the Dangshan side." In Zhao Jin's study at He Family Village, Zhao Jin and his companions were gathered in discussion.

Hearing Ruhui say this, Zhao Jin's face showed not a trace of relief. He turned his head to look at Zhong Gonghui, who was kneeling to one side, and asked, "You said there are at least sixty thousand more? Wasn't it said that many had scattered, many had starved to death, and many had gone elsewhere? How did the 'over fifty thousand' you mentioned before suddenly become sixty thousand?"

Compared to the last time they met, although Zhong Gonghui's face still bore the dust and weariness of travel, his complexion was much better than before, and his eyes had become spirited. Hearing the question, Zhong Gonghui hurriedly answered, "That eunuch and those corrupt officials pressed too hard. The people who originally wanted to return to their villages all came flocking back, so the numbers have only increased, not decreased."

Zhao Jin nodded. Zhou Xuezhi, an abacus still in his hand and account books placed beside him, had been rapidly calculating as he listened, his brow tightly furrowed, his expression exceptionally grim. At this moment, he looked up and said, "Master, we cannot accommodate them. The Kong Family Estate area originally had quite a few commoners, and those people cannot be driven away. Counting the grain reserves there, and adding what can be managed in Pei County and Feng County, the entirety of Xuzhou can at most take in twenty thousand refugees. Moreover, we would have to consume one-third of our silver reserves."

As he spoke, Zhou Xuezhi's face was full of pained reluctance — a common affliction of those who manage accounts and money. Manage it long enough, and you come to regard it as the contents of your own purse.

"Does that count the Xu family's side?" Zhao Jin asked. Zhou Xuezhi shook his head.

"Big Brother, twenty-five thousand people is already an immense act of merit. Take it step by step. Trying to swallow too much in one gulp will easily burst you." Wang Zhaojing spoke up.

Everyone in the room shared roughly the same attitude: what they had done now was already enough. Taking in these twenty-five thousand people was more than sufficient. As for the rest, without the Zhao Character Camp's guides, without the small amounts of grain provided along the way, they would not even have been able to reach Xuzhou.

Hearing this, Zhong Gonghui to the side immediately grew frantic. Disregarding everything, he kowtowed repeatedly, pleading with desperate urgency, "Master Jin, have mercy! Master Jin, show grace! With so many people, every day's delay means hundreds, thousands dead! If Master Jin's path is blocked off, I fear the mountains and valleys will be filled with none left alive. These are tens of thousands of human lives, I beg—"

"Master, a traveling merchant from Fengyang has come with an urgent report. The merchant is covered in blood and gravely wounded!" Just at that moment, a retainer's report sounded from outside. Their requirement was to state matters as concisely as possible.

The Zhao Character Camp's Fengyang traveling merchants were, to put it plainly, people sent to Fengyang Prefecture to gather intelligence and guide the refugee columns. Some were rivers-and-lakes men recruited on a temporary basis, while others were skilled operatives from the Inner Guard Camp.

"Bring him in, and fetch a physician!" Zhao Jin ordered loudly.

Outside, they acknowledged the order. Before long, the main door opened, and a wounded man was carried in on a stretcher. The bloodstains on the injured man's body had already been wiped clean, and his wounds had been bandaged.

"This lowly one was struck by arrows in the leg and shoulder, and cannot rise conveniently to kowtow to Master Jin!" the man said with great deference.

Liu Yong went over to take a look and turned back to signal Zhao Jin. Zhao Jin immediately understood that this man must be someone from the Inner Guard Camp, yet he addressed him as "Master Jin" just like an outsider — presumably for the sake of concealment. Zhao Jin did not expose him, but simply said, "Speak while lying down. After you've spoken, rest well and recover. You needn't worry about a thing."

"Master Jin, this lowly one was originally guiding refugees at Fuli Bridge and had already gathered over six hundred people. The Hui River is now frozen solid; one can cross directly. Moreover, at this time, there are hardly any traveling merchants or passersby on the roads, so it's even safe to travel by day. However, to be cautious, this lowly one still followed orders and only moved during dawn and dusk. A few people ran off from the group, and this lowly one paid it no mind, because those people's minds were too unsettled. But we hadn't gone far — perhaps about ten li from the Hui River — when we encountered over a hundred government troops and several dozen militia. These men were all mounted. Seeing we couldn't evade them, I had thought to find some excuse to bluff our way through, but unexpectedly, those men didn't distinguish black from white and attacked immediately. Seeing the situation was bad, this lowly one hastily bolted into the woods at the side. The others were not so fortunate and were scattered outright."

The room fell silent. Zhao Jin, his expression dark, glanced at Zhong Gonghui, then turned back to the wounded man. The wounded man continued, "This lowly one was not injured that time, but on the journey back, I encountered three mounted squads along the way — some were government troops, some were militia, and some even looked like men of the greenwood. Just as I was about to return to Xuzhou, that group of greenwood men caught up with me. I was struck by two arrows. Fortunately, the Zhao Character Camp had men stationed at the prefectural border, so they rushed this lowly one back here."

"Go and rest well to recover. I will not treat you shabbily," Zhao Jin said in a deep voice.