Chapter 401: Sun Dalin

Selling grain to trade for salt — after the autumn harvest every year, grain was cheap and silver was dear, so selling then meant taking a heavy loss. By the time the lean months arrived and grain prices rose, there was no silver to be squeezed from those poor wretches anyway; all you could get were indenture papers and land deeds. The moneylenders were the ones who reaped all the profit.

Ever since the Han Well Distillery appeared, people could trade grain for liquor, then turn that liquor into silver. That at least offered some kind of outlet. But the Cloud Mountain Temple, one great household, swallowed the whole business, leaving barely any scraps for anyone else. Everyone knew that Zhao's Camp raked in mountains of gold and seas of silver every day — and spent them just as fast. Who wouldn't want a share of that, to swap for some ready silver to spend? Usually the opportunities were few, but now one had arrived.

Zhao's Camp needed grain, and was willing to pay in ready silver. Zhao Jin had always been known in Xuzhou for dealing fairly and keeping his word. Doing business with him meant you wouldn't get shortchanged. Even if you let him take a little advantage, trading that advantage for a favor from Zhao Jin made it more than worthwhile.

Once word got out, first the local gentry and prominent households came forward, and then the Xuzhou Guard approached as well. The Xuzhou Guard were great landlords themselves — so many military households tilled the garrison fields year after year. The commanders and chiliarchs skimmed off enormous amounts, but most of it was in grain, which was prone to rot and mold in storage. Better to sell it to Zhao Jin.

As the twelfth month drew near, Zhao Jin had not a moment to spare. Even Chen Hong, who had been staying in the city, hurried over to He Village. He and Zhou Xuezhi, leading a dozen or so ledger clerks, spent every day reckoning accounts — calculating the refugees' expenses, calculating the grain purchases. Before the twelfth month even arrived, they reached a conclusion: the grain was more than sufficient, and they could buy no more. Otherwise, the grain stored in Zhao's Camp's granaries would likely rot and mold, a sheer waste.

Those who had sold early were overjoyed; those who had not yet offloaded beat their chests and stamped their feet. One after another, they signed long-term contracts with Zhao Jin, insisting that if he ever bought again, he must come to them first.

On the twenty-ninth day of the eleventh month, Sun Jia, the proprietor of the Sun Family Trading House, returned to Xuzhou. He did not linger long at the old family residence in the city, but took a carriage straight to He Village.

By now, Proprietor Sun of the Sun Family Trading House was a figure of some note in Yutou Town, Pi Prefecture. Everyone in the town knew that this merchant from Xuzhou was the agent for Han Well Famous Liquor and always kept large stocks of grain on hand.

The grain, needless to say, was skimmed from the tribute grain shipments. Plenty of people could get their hands on some, but only this man could secure such enormous quantities.

A merchant with no particular backing, sitting on that much grain while also holding the agency for the hugely profitable Han Well Famous Liquor — to the eyes of officials, clerks, yamen runners, and even figures of the rivers and lakes, he was a piece of fat meat.

It wasn't that no one had designs on him. Those on the official side wanted to make trouble, to slap him with a major charge of stealing tribute grain. Then they discovered that behind this trading house stood a Presented Scholar — a top-tier pure-stream official who had even served as a censor in the capital. Those people immediately backed off. Matters involving the tribute grain route invariably entangled powerful figures on all sides. Now that everyone had spotted a censor, heaven only knew who else stood behind him.

The clerks, runners, and rivers-and-lakes types wanted to make a move too, but they saw things even more clearly. The tribute grain business involved the tribute transport soldiers — a force in their own right, and most of them were followers of the Smelling Incense Sect. Offending a sect like that meant endless trouble. Later, they also learned that the trading house proprietor's eldest son had been a sworn brother of Zhao Jin of Xuzhou, and had died covering Zhao Jin's retreat.

Anyone who heard that broke out in a cold sweat. Others might not know, but how could the men of the rivers and lakes and the greenwood not know? Besides, Xuzhou and Pi Prefecture were right next to each other — every piece of news traveled across. The Little Eight Righteous Ones single-handedly held off over a hundred desperate bandits. Zhao's Camp, with a few hundred men, swept away a hundred thousand refugees, exterminated Kong Jiuying, pacified He Village, and broke Cloud Mountain Temple. These exploits were on everyone's lips, and everyone understood the sheer, overwhelming martial force they represented.

Who would dare offend such a man? Only someone with their heart smeared in lard. Everyone cursed: if your Sun Family Trading House had such a backer, why didn't you say so earlier? You nearly made us make a move. If we had, we'd probably all be dead without a burial place — a sin too great to bear.

Once the word spread, every rivers-and-lakes man in the Yutou Town area, whether on water or land, gave orders to their underlings: this Sun Family Trading House must absolutely not be offended. They were to be treated with the utmost respect. Any slip-up, and before Zhao Jin even had to speak, they'd be dealt with by their own house rules first.

"Everyone, Uncle Sun has arrived. He's been settled at the wagon inn. Let's go pay our respects together!" Zhao Jin called out.

Ruhui nodded with a smile and said, "Master and all you gentlemen, please go ahead. Everything here has been arranged properly. Your subordinate and Old Zhou will keep an eye on things!"

Zhao Jin nodded. Sun Dalei's father had come; all of them as brothers had to show their faces. Ruhui and Zhou Xuezhi, however, didn't need to come along.

He Village was being entirely rebuilt, and the ox-and-cart wagon inn had seen major improvements as well. The animal pens for keeping oxen and horses had been moved farther away, while this area had been carefully constructed and decorated to a very high standard. Rumor had it that people from the Cloud Mountain Tower had come to arrange it. Receiving guests here no longer seemed shabby, so visitors with no direct connection to Zhao's Camp were all lodged in this area.

Sun Jia knew he was an elder, but he dared not put on airs. A merchant's calculations are shrewd; he knew exactly what his present fortunes rested on, and he knew even more clearly that Sun Dalei was dead — this bond of affection could well fade.

"Uncle Sun, why have you come outside? In this cold, you mustn't catch a chill. Let's go back inside to talk," Zhao Jin called out from a distance.

Sun Jia and a young man were waiting at the entrance of the wagon inn. For an elder to come out and greet juniors was indeed a breach of propriety, so Zhao Jin hastily spoke up.

"I haven't seen you boys in so long; I've missed you dearly. You're all dressed far too lightly — aren't you afraid of freezing?" Sun Jia said with a smile.

Zhao Jin stepped forward first, bowing with clasped hands in greeting. Chen Sheng, Wang Zhaojing, Shi Manqiang, Ji Xiang, Dong Bingfeng, and Liu Yong followed in order, each bending forward in a respectful bow. Sun Jia spoke to them all, beaming.

When Sun Dalei died, Sun Jia had been haggard and grief-stricken. His business had been modest then, and he had looked very old. Yet today he seemed even younger than he had back then, his spirits clearly high. He wore a sable fur vest over a Songjiang cotton robe patterned with fine coin motifs — rich, poised, and dignified. Not to mention the jade pendant and silver badge; his entire appearance was immaculately groomed, without a single detail out of place. Standing closer, one could even catch a faint fragrance, which anyone in the know would recognize at once as a famed product of the Western Regions.

Standing there, he seemed almost to glow, the very image of a great merchant. Yet after they finished their salutations, the first thing Zhao Jin and the others noticed was not these changes in Sun Jia, but the young man behind him.

For even Zhao Jin and his companions to call him a young man showed he was really just a half-grown boy. But though he looked only thirteen or fourteen, he was already nearly as tall as Zhao Jin. He was stout and heavyset as well, dressed in a short silk-cotton jacket. This brawny frame was not, of course, what drew the attention of Zhao Jin and his friends — it was that this half-grown boy bore a strong resemblance to Sun Dalei.

Looking closely, there were still many differences. For instance, the boy's face was squarer than Sun Dalei's, his chin broader and thicker, and his eyes smaller. Yet those eyes lacked Sun Dalei's shrewdness; they held only a simple, honest look.

Zhao Jin and his companions were all somewhat stunned. The one being stared at grew flustered as well, quite at a loss, until Sun Jia turned his head and scolded, "Dalin, what are you standing there dumbly for? Pay your respects to your elder brothers at once."

The stout youth hurriedly bowed low in a deep salute and said in a simple, honest tone, "Greetings to all my elder brothers."

Sun Dalin. The Sun family children were not actually ranked by the character "Da"; it was purely a description of his large build — something they had all joked about back then.

Zhao Jin had some impression of Sun Dalei's younger brothers. He had met this Sun Dalin a few times before. Back then, the boy hadn't looked so brawny and stout; he had looked quite ordinary. After not seeing him for a few years, he had turned out like this.

"His voice sounds like Dalei's too," Chen Sheng said heavily. He had been staring the whole time. Wang Zhaojing rubbed his eyes hard and nodded with a smile, saying, "It does, it does!"

Ji Xiang turned his head away, while Shi Manqiang kept sniffling, as if his nose were stuffed. Dong Bingfeng's eyes had already reddened, and his body trembled faintly. The most composed was Liu Yong, but he had not taken his eyes off Sun Dalin for a single moment.

Zhao Jin felt a terrible tightness in his throat. Only after coughing heavily several times did he return to normal. Forcing a smile, he said, "Let's go inside to talk. It's so cold out here."

Only then did everyone come back to their senses. Sun Jia could not hold back his tears either. His lips trembled, unable to speak. He pulled a handkerchief from his bosom, wiped his face, and said, "It does my heart good to see you brothers keep this bond of loyalty so firmly. Dalei..."

The only one somewhat bewildered was Sun Dalin. He still did not understand what was happening and looked from one face to another.

They lingered at the entrance a bit too long. Fortunately, with the twelfth month approaching, most traveling merchants staying at the inn had already left, and the innkeeper and staff all recognized Zhao Jin and his group, so no one came to interfere.

The guest room had long been prepared — a very refined and spotlessly clean chamber, with seats and everything else fully arranged. Tea and refreshments were brought in. After a round of polite deferrals, everyone took their seats. Only Sun Dalin remained standing behind Sun Jia.

Sun Jia had come this time because Zhao Jin had taken the initiative to write and invite him, saying there were matters to discuss. But it was Sun Jia who spoke first.

"Xiao Jin, your uncle has a favor to ask of you this time," Sun Jia said, coming straight to the point.

"Please speak, Uncle Sun," Zhao Jin replied crisply.

Sun Jia turned and pointed at Sun Dalin, then turned back and explained, "Thanks to your good fortune, Xiao Jin, the Sun Family Trading House's business has grown larger and larger. I had originally thought to pass this family estate on to him, so that in the future he could properly help you all. I never imagined this child would be no good at his studies, but instead take a liking to martial arts. I beat him several times over it. In the end, with no other choice, I brought him with me, hoping to teach him the trade. But it was still no use — he can't settle his mind. Even at night, he gets up to wave swords and staves around."

Being spoken of this way by his own father left Sun Dalin deeply embarrassed, and he lowered his head. Zhao Jin and his companions all looked over with smiles. Sun Jia, however, wore no pleased expression. He sighed and continued, "After what happened with Dalei, I didn't want them to learn martial arts. The family estate is large enough now; there's plenty for the brothers to divide among themselves. Passing down wealth and rank through the generations — isn't that good enough? Why go off waving swords and staves?"

These words implicated Zhao Jin and his companions as well. The smiles on everyone's faces turned rather awkward.