Chapter 411: A Thief

"This young master speaks true. When there's no profit in it, naturally they'll investigate to the death. The moment they meet, it's all drawn blades—bloodshed and dead men are common fare." Yi Jinbao took a swig of wine and slapped his thigh as he spoke.

Government runners, the able-bodied men of the patrol offices, even the private troops of powerful clans—none of them would permit untaxed private salt to exist. And any salt goods they seized became their own profit. The salt smugglers, to save their lives and protect their salt, naturally had to fight back with everything they had. Neither side would rest until the other was dead.

Zhao Jin listened with keen interest and asked further, "Over at the salt fields, who gives them the salt?"

This time, before Yi Jinbao could open his mouth, Peng Qi spoke in a low, deep voice: "The salt-making households. The salt-making households smuggle the salt out. Especially at this time of year, when they come to the grassy flats to cut reeds, they slip the salt out with them. When they're cutting reeds, they trade it for money and goods."

"Do the salt fields not inspect them?"

"How could they not? If they're caught, people die. But to get a full meal, to make a set of clothes for the family, to let their wives and children have something to wear when they step outside—even if it means death, they'll still do it. The salt-making households suffer bitterly!" Peng Qi's voice grew lower and lower.

Beside them, young Peng, dead drunk, suddenly began to weep for no apparent reason. Drunk and miserable, yet he didn't dare cry out loud. Everyone instinctively looked at Peng Qi. Peng Qi gave an awkward laugh and said, "My nephew and I both fled here from Shandong. There's no shortage of sorrowful memories."

No one pressed the matter further. Fortunately, after a few sobs, young Peng fell into a snoring sleep. The campfire baked the area around the wagons with its heat, and with furs and bedding spread on the ground, it didn't feel too cold. Just before turning in, Yi Jinbao spoke up: "Sirs, you must be careful. Once you've come this far, there are already wolves about. Don't let one slip in during the night and drag someone off. What's more, many of the villages around here have lookouts for the mounted bandits and brigands. Even quite a few of the prominent households in Suqian run this kind of un-capitaled business on the sly. They can easily creep up on you come nightfall or early morning."

Zhao Jin and the others answered with a laugh. When making camp like this, and in unfamiliar territory at that, they naturally had to post sentries. The campfire slowly dimmed, and lanterns were raised at the four corners.

Having been through such situations many times, the brothers didn't stand on ceremony. Zhao Jin chose the second half of the night for his watch. They arranged the remaining shifts and hurried off to sleep.

Though there was a road where they camped, no sign of human habitation could be seen in any direction. It was deep winter, so naturally no insects chirped or birds sang. The night was extraordinarily still. Warmed by the heat, they easily drifted into slumber.

In the second half of the night, Zhao Jin was not woken by a person, but startled awake by the howling of wolves. He rose, donned his armor, took up his weapon, and stepped down from the wagon to the outside.

Dong Bingfeng was beneath one of the lanterns, bow drawn and arrow nocked, aiming out into the darkness. Following the direction he faced, one could make out several pairs of flickering, glowing green lights—those would be the wolves.

Hearing the clatter of armor, Dong Bingfeng turned his head, quickly lowered his bow and arrow, and said with a smile, "Big Brother, won't you sleep a little longer?"

"I've slept about enough. Before coming out here, I never imagined our Southern Zhili could be so desolate. I used to listen to my second uncle talk about the scenery of the grasslands—I never expected to find something like it here." Zhao Jin said with a laugh.

Dong Bingfeng suddenly drew his bow and aimed outward again. This time he loosed an arrow directly. The sound of a sharp arrow piercing flesh could be heard, followed by a mournful yelp. The remaining wolves immediately scattered. Only then did Dong Bingfeng continue the conversation: "I heard my father say that Fengyang Prefecture also has places like this. When famine strikes, hordes of refugees flee, and you can walk for days through the countryside without seeing a soul."

When they had arrived here at dusk, Zhao Jin had stood atop a wagon and looked around in every direction. The ground held only a few monotonous colors: the withered yellow of dead grass and the stark white of snow-covered ground, interspersed with the muddy black of the trampled road. At first glance, it stretched on boundlessly, easily giving one a sense of that desolation.

"I wonder how many people this place could hold?" Zhao Jin murmured to himself.

The next morning when they rose, the several wolves shot outside were retrieved. Dong Bingfeng's archery was truly exceptional. Judging their positions in the night by sound and faint shadows of light, he had loosed four arrows and struck four targets.

They skinned and bled the wolves, then tossed the meat straight into a pot to stew. Everyone ate a hearty, satisfying meal before packing up and setting out again. No one knew if young Peng still remembered crying the night before, but today he showed no sign of anything unusual.

The morning's journey was exceedingly dull. The road itself was very narrow, flanked on both sides by tall, withered grass. Even the guides frequently had to climb onto the wagons to get a high vantage point just to determine their direction.

"From what I can see, these wild grassy flats are all flatland. Why does the road twist and turn so much? Can't we just go straight across?" After traveling for over half a shichen, Chen Sheng asked curiously.

"Sir, you may not know this, but what looks like flat ground with grass growing on it is often a mud sink in many places. When the weather's hot and the rains are heavy, they're ponds. The rest of the time, they just sit there as mire. A wolf can pass over without trouble, but a large beast of burden will sink in with one step, and a man can be swallowed up too. Wagons certainly can't cross. This road wasn't easy to carve out—who knows how many people died before they found the solid ground." Yi Jinbao explained with a smile.

A vast stretch of Huai'an Prefecture was silt-deposited land. If it could be developed and cultivated, it would naturally be fit for human habitation. But to preserve fuel for boiling salt at the salt fields, farming and land reclamation were forbidden here. Thus, the wetlands and marshland terrain persisted.

Wetlands and marshes are naturally difficult to traverse. Soft mud and quagmires drowning people was nothing rare. Chen Sheng understood this and asked with a smile, "In this freezing weather, the marshes and mud pits should be frozen solid by now, right?"

"It's not that easy. A thin crust of ice forms on top. Near the edges it might hold, but once you get further in, that crust breaks and you sink straight down. A few years back, someone carrying salt on his back died in there just like that!" Compared to the Peng uncle and nephew, Yi Jinbao had a much broader range of experience.

They had set out early, and by this time the sun had only just risen, yet its rays carried no warmth. The area around Pizhou, Shuyang, and Haizhou in Huai'an Prefecture was all flat plain, with not the slightest rise to block the sea wind. In summer, it might offer a few hints of coolness, but at this moment, there was only a bone-chilling, damp cold.

Those who had stood night watch lay on the wagons, snoring in deep sleep, while others bustled among the convoy tending to the horses. Because they had added wagons, their riding mounts were not necessarily suited for pulling carts. Zhao Jin's party had gone from three horses per man down to two, and the drivers carried no horses at all.

After a few words of chat, there was nothing more to say, and the convoy fell silent again. But just at that moment, Zhuang Liu, at the rear, suddenly shouted out, "Master, a lone rider approaching."

Since yesterday afternoon, they had not seen a single soul on this road. This sudden appearance of a rider was certainly suspicious. Zhao Jin made a few hand signals, and the guides were immediately surrounded and screened by five household guards. Even the wagon drivers placed their weapons within easy reach.

The sound of hoofbeats could be heard. A man on horseback appeared at the tail of Zhao Jin's convoy. The horse was not moving fast, and the man carried no weapon. He wore a leather robe and had a bundle slung over his back, looking like a traveling merchant hurrying home for the New Year.

The road was narrow, and Zhao Jin's party of men, horses, and wagons completely clogged it. When the man reached them, he greeted them amiably, saying, "Brothers, I have urgent business ahead. Could you kindly make way?"

"It's a hassle to move our wagons. Go around the side, and we'll have the riders make room for you," a dark, lean man stood up on one of the wagons and shouted.

"Sorry for the trouble, everyone. Many thanks, many thanks!" The rider replied with a face full of smiles. He rode his horse along the withered grass at the roadside. His pace was not fast, and as he went, he studied Zhao Jin's wagon convoy.

Zhao Jin stood together with the guides. Expressionless, he asked, "Is there any inhabited place up ahead?"

"There's a walled settlement with a few hundred households. We should reach it this afternoon. If this old man's memory serves, if you head straight north from here for two shichen, there's also a village—that one has over six hundred households—but you'd have to make a big detour." Peng Qi spoke up. When it came to familiarity with the roads, he was no worse than Yi Jinbao.

Zhao Jin nodded. The man had already ridden ahead. He turned back and politely offered thanks once more before whipping his horse into a swift gallop.

Once the man was far away, Zhao Jin raised his voice and said, "Pile the cargo high on the first, last, and one middle wagon. Pick three men with sharp eyes to climb up and keep watch. Don't overlook the slightest rustle in the grass."

The wagons themselves were already taller than the surrounding withered grass. Standing atop the piled cargo, one had an unimpeded view in all directions. There was another advantage: the roadside was all withered yellow and snowy white. If anything was amiss, it would be spotted immediately.

Zhao Jin signaled a few gestures to Chen Sheng. Chen Sheng nodded from horseback and began riding back and forth through the convoy. He passed the word to each of the several dozen men one by one. Every man drew his weapon. Zhao Jin and the others even dismounted to don their armor, and soon everyone was fully geared up.

The three guides had at first merely been caught up in the tension. In this lawless, desolate place, dead was dead, and bandits and mounted brigands naturally acted without restraint. That rider who had just passed was very likely a scout. It was normal for traveling merchants to carry weapons for self-defense. Out here in these grassy wilds, if you didn't have a tool in hand, never mind fending off thieves—what would you do if wolves came?

But carrying weapons was one thing. Who could have imagined they'd be so superbly equipped? Full suits of iron armor, long blades and long spears—clearly not the sort of common household goods. It was fortunate that Zhao Jin's party had treated them reasonably well these past few days; otherwise, the guides would be on their knees begging for mercy right now. Even so, their faces were pale and their eyes wide with shock.

"If trouble comes, we won't be able to look after you. Crawl under the wagons yourselves, and you'll keep safe," Ji Xiang gave them a brief order as he unwound the cloth strips wrapped around his podao.

No wonder they got a hundred taels for one trip—this silver really wasn't easy to earn. The guides looked at each other. Yi Jinbao hesitated for a moment, then spoke: "Sirs, I travel these parts often. I know a few of the bandit leaders and brigands, and we have some mutual respect. When the time comes, could I perhaps go and have a word..."

Ji Xiang glanced at Zhao Jin, who was not far off, and said with a smile, "No need. If they come, we kill them all!"

The casually spoken words made Yi Jinbao shiver. He dared not say another word. As he retreated, he muttered under his breath to the Peng uncle and nephew, "Young and hot-headed. If a bandit gang of several hundred really shows up, how could they possibly hold them off? When the time comes, we hide under the wagons first, then crawl into the grass. One way or another, we can escape."