Chapter 410: Along the Way

He glanced at it and froze for a moment, then rubbed his eyes and looked again. His hands began to tremble. Seeing him like this, the thugs and bailiffs nearby grew curious and asked what it said. The innkeeper's face had gone bloodless by now, his expression wavering with indecision, yet he still would not answer.

Just when the thugs were losing patience, the innkeeper demanded to see Old Master Zhao Zhentang. It was already the dead of night; the old master was surely asleep. Disturbing him at this hour was out of the question, and the bailiffs immediately turned hostile and barked at him.

No one expected the innkeeper, who had been all smiles and appeasement, to suddenly stiffen his spine. He practically roared back at them, and that stunned the thugs and bailiffs into silence.

The innkeeper's face remained pale, his body trembling uncontrollably, but he still remembered to send the singing girl back to keep them company. He had the placard inked and a rubbing taken, then wiped it clean and had the girl slip it back in place, warning her to be extremely careful, even adding a threat.

By now, everyone was instead cowed by the innkeeper and followed his every instruction. They hurried out of the inn and headed for the Zhao residence.

The Zhao house was guarded by household servants, and with the Xu family's eldest daughter staying there, the Xu family had brought their own guards as well. The innkeeper's group was stopped and questioned as soon as they arrived. These servants and guards also found the Tonghui Inn's innkeeper baffling, insisting that he not disturb anyone so late.

But the innkeeper insisted through gritted teeth, even saying that if they wouldn't let him in, he would shout from outside. He absolutely had to see him.

The gate was pounded on, but the courtyard remained silent. Only when a servant called out did the door open, showing that Zhao Zhentang was cautious as well. Not long after, Zhao San opened the inner door and invited the Tonghui Inn's innkeeper inside.

Compared to Zhao San's face full of impatience, Zhao Zhentang's expression was very calm, even carrying a trace of warmth, for he knew that if it weren't important, the Tonghui Inn's innkeeper would not come seeking him urgently in the dead of night.

"Old Master..."

"Just call me Old Zhao. We've known each other for so many years, that form of address sounds awkward!" Zhao Zhentang said with a smile.

"Master Zhao, those two men called for singing girls to keep them company tonight. We took the chance to check their background. It's a matter of grave importance!" the innkeeper said, still politely.

"Grave importance!" Zhao Zhentang's brow furrowed. The innkeeper lowered his voice and continued, "Thankfully, the girls who went over can't read, so the news hasn't leaked yet."

Still not getting to the point, Zhao Zhentang was clearly growing anxious. The innkeeper finally gave the answer, pulling the rubbing from his bosom and saying in a hushed voice, "Master Zhao, those two men are agents of the Embroidered Uniform Guard..."

Before the words had fully landed, Zhao Zhentang's eyes widened, and a violent shudder ran through his entire body. The teacup at his hand crashed to the floor, sounding exceptionally loud in the quiet night. From the inner room came He Cuihua's voice, asking, "What happened?"

"Nothing, go back to sleep," Zhao Zhentang called out. He turned and stared at the innkeeper, who held up the rubbing and indicated, "Han Song, Enforcer of the Fourth Hundred-Household, Nanjing Embroidered Uniform Guard Thousand-Household. Enforcer Yan Shao'an."

Both men kept their voices very low. Zhao Zhentang's face had turned extremely grim. He couldn't read either, but he recognized the format of the rubbing the innkeeper produced; it was indeed an Embroidered Uniform Guard waist token.

The Depot Guard had always been a name that made people in the Great Ming turn pale with fear. They could bypass local officials to arrest people directly, pry into secrets, and fabricate charges. A man like Zhao Zhentang, who came from a runner background, didn't fear the local government much. Whether arrested or fined, there were always loopholes and personal connections to maneuver and ease the situation. But the Embroidered Uniform Guard was far above, on an entirely different plane; there wasn't even a channel to negotiate. Moreover, officials at all levels feared them like tigers. Once arrested, the case was usually ironclad, and even if one survived, they'd be flayed alive.

Zhao Zhentang knew perfectly well what his own son had done in Xuzhou. Once targeted by the Embroidered Uniform Guard, once thrown into prison, he certainly wouldn't just be flayed—he would undoubtedly die.

He silently took the rubbing from the innkeeper's hand and burned it over the candle. Zhao Zhentang did not make a sound. The innkeeper beside him dared not even breathe heavily, only watching Zhao Zhentang's expression shift endlessly.

By the time the candle had burned down by half, Zhao Zhentang forced out a smile and said, "Old Zhou, we've known each other for twenty years now. Perhaps there were some misunderstandings between our families in the past."

"Master Zhao, just give your instructions on how to handle this. If there were still misunderstandings, would I have come looking for you in the middle of the night?" Innkeeper Zhou said urgently. He was also losing his composure, which was understandable. No one involved with the Embroidered Uniform Guard could remain calm and natural.

Zhao Zhentang gave a self-deprecating smile and said with grave seriousness, "I will remember this kindness. My worthless son will certainly remember it too. As for handling it, they have travel permits, they entered the city openly, and they paid silver to stay at the inn. Who can find fault with that? Let them look as they please."

"Just let them look like that?"

"Just let them look like that. There's nothing in Xuzhou city that can't be seen. As long as they investigate in secret, as long as they don't reveal their identities, let them look all they want!" Zhao Zhentang said decisively.

Zhao Jin and his group traveled east along Lake Luoma, bypassing the urban area of Suqian. Taking advantage of the solidly frozen lakeshore and river channels, they entered the Grass Nest region.

Their guides, Uncle and Nephew Peng and that man Yi Jinbao, were extremely familiar with the paths here. According to them, some smaller trails were faster to travel, but since the party had too many large carts this time, they could only take the "main roads."

Uncle and Nephew Peng and Yi Jinbao had all discussed privately that these people were too strange. They claimed to be on official business, yet they brought so many horses and nearly twenty large carts, looking more like a wealthy household out for an excursion. But staying away from home in the twelfth month instead of preparing for the New Year, and making such a grand procession into the desolate Grass Flats—who would come here for an excursion?

"It's a good thing it's cold now and the ground is frozen hard. If we came in warm weather, it's muddy everywhere here, not even convenient for riding horses," young Peng remarked.

After passing Suqian city and entering the Grass Nest region, Zhao Jin and his companions didn't feel they had arrived at the so-called Grass Nest at all, because it was no different from the countryside outside any ordinary city—farmland and villages everywhere. If Qi San hadn't confirmed they were on the right path, everyone would have suspected the guides had a problem.

The first day was spent traveling through these villages and fields. What felt somewhat off was that at every place they passed, someone would always run off eastward, either openly or covertly. Also, these villages were heavily guarded; one could see able-bodied young men gathered, armed with all sorts of makeshift weapons. Once they confirmed that Zhao Jin's party meant no harm, their attitude became exceedingly polite. Whether buying fodder or asking for directions, nothing was concealed.

But one thing was noticeable: the further east they went, the sparser the villages became, and the more unbroken grassy flats there were. In the distant horizon, one could even see what seemed like a boundless expanse of withered grass and desolate flats.

"Master, these villages are all lands enclosed by the great households of Suqian. The villagers are all refugees and disaster victims who fled here from various places. These farmlands don't even have title deeds or documents. If the government investigated seriously, they could simply be confiscated," Yi Jinbao explained in great detail.

Although the three guides thought Zhao Jin's party was making a fuss over nothing, the advantages became clear when they made camp. The large carts were circled around, naturally forming a camp. People were in one area, mounts in another—undoubtedly much less risky than camping on open ground. And with ample supplies brought along, both men and horses were well-fed and watered. There were even a few jugs of wine to drink, used to ward off the cold.

Zhao Jin and his group abstained from alcohol, giving it only to the three guides to drink. One gulp down, and they felt warmth spreading through their bodies. Everyone was quite comfortable, and conversation began to flow. Without needing to ask, the back-and-forth chatter provided very detailed information.

"... Many in these villages fled from Fengyang Prefecture, and some from Shandong. It was tragic back then. A fresh, pretty young girl could be bought just for a mouthful of food..."

"... We're entering the desolate Grass Flats now. Sirs, are you planning to scout the salt routes?" young Peng asked bluntly.

As soon as he asked, his uncle Peng Qi smacked him hard and glared at him furiously. "What nonsense are you spouting? That's a beheading business, a crime that costs your head!"

Smuggling salt was done everywhere, but by the king's law, it was a crime punishable by beheading and confiscation of property. Asking about it directly was, of course, taboo. After hitting his nephew, Peng Qi looked cautiously at Zhao Jin and the others. Ji Xiang glanced at Zhao Jin and said with a grin, "What salt routes? Tell us about it. We just heard the Grass Flats are vast and came to see something new. If there's anything interesting, feel free to speak."

Only a fool would come to the Grass Flats at this time of year, but everyone just needed an excuse. Young Peng didn't dare speak anymore. Peng Qi hesitated there, and Yi Jinbao let out a scoff. "What are you two afraid of? It's not like we've seen few salt runners and smugglers. Young masters of such wealth and status as these gentlemen would never engage in such business. What's there to fear in talking about it? If you won't say it, I will!"

Cutting straight east through the desolate flats led to Haizhou and the string of salt works along the coast—the very source of Huai salt. Salt goods could be exchanged for money as soon as they were shipped out of Haizhou. Official salt, and the smuggled salt that moved through official channels, were both transported and sold by water, traveling from Haizhou via the Salt Transport Canal to Qingjiangpu or Yangzhou, where they were distributed throughout the empire. Many salt lords and salt peddlers also obtained their goods along these waterways and then sold them off.

However, this kind of smuggled salt moving through official channels, including those salt lords and peddlers who picked up salt on the waterways, could in a sense be considered a form of "official salt." This was because every juncture and every customary fee had long been set by established rules. It wasn't that you could sell the salt just by getting your hands on it. Greasing palms and paying respects in every direction, not a single one could be missed. The local government clerks, the inspectors at every checkpoint, and the local strongmen and fence-masters on the ground all had to get their cut. Moreover, the price couldn't be set freely; there were powerful figures who fixed the number. Deviating from that number meant trouble and losses just the same.

People engaged in such law-breaking business were all after exorbitant profits. Many felt the kickbacks and tributes were too much and wanted to cut out these steps. There were also newcomers who wanted to get into this business but couldn't wedge a foot in. These types of people thought of other methods, such as cutting directly across the Grass Flats here, colluding with people at the salt works to get the salt goods, and then transporting them out along this route.

This salt was sold at a price slightly lower than the market rate and was very easy to offload. Yet the regulatory fees within were very low, making the profit much higher than usual.

"The smuggled salt that the authorities ban is this kind, right?" Liu Yong asked. The cause and effect were easy to deduce.