Chapter 475: Mop-Up and Reckoning (Third Update)

The long-distance raid had exhausted everyone. Once the thrill of victory and the excitement of eager talk faded, all were settled into rest under the Zhao Camp's arrangements. Zhang Hubin and the squad leaders under him were also ordered by Zhao Jin to get some sleep; Zhao Jin and his group took the night watch.

Tonight's watch was far, far easier than the previous night's. After making their rounds, Zhao Jin and the others sat down directly on the slope of the stockade wall.

"Daxiang, some things mustn't be said recklessly, and some jokes mustn't be made carelessly. If the men below grow resentful, or even fearful and panicked, you never know when trouble will come. On the battlefield there can be no ambiguity whatsoever. What if careless words like that stir up trouble?" Zhao Jin said sternly.

Ji Xiang looked a little sheepish. Scratching his head, he answered, "This little brother was wrong. It won't happen again."

Seeing Zhao Jin's expression soften, Ji Xiang gave an awkward laugh and added, "It's fine if this little brother plays the villain — just make their hearts submit and be loyal to Big Brother, and that settles it."

Zhao Jin shot him a fierce glare, and Ji Xiang immediately lowered his head. Zhao Jin did not press further, only sighed and said, "It's not as simple as you think."

Some things could be said to Zhang Hubin, and some could not. For instance, when the refugee stockade was being established, Zhao Jin had said: "…Place this refugee stockade out in the Wild Grass Flats. That's the spot the Feng family values most — they're sure to attack it. And with hardly any government troops around, the Feng family will act without restraint. This stockade is nearly three thousand strong, with several hundred martial men; the rest are able-bodied adults who've had basic training. If the Feng family wants to take this stockade, they'll have to commit everything they've got…"

"…As soon as the Feng family throws their full armed strength into the attack, we move at once. Even if it costs us the stockade, we'll wipe out the Feng family's armed force right here in this grassy nest and seal the victory…"

"…They can't come to Xuzhou with great fanfare, and we can't mobilize a big force to march on Yangzhou. The longer this remains unresolved, the more trouble there'll be down the line…"

"…Hit them once, hard. Hit them once, big. One blow that makes them cough blood…"

"…The Feng family are businessmen. Making money and turning a profit is their top priority. If fighting any longer means losing money, or getting in the way of making money, they'll definitely make a trade-off. What we need is to force that trade-off out of them in this one battle…"

In the final analysis, the refugee stockade was essentially bait — meant to draw the main force of the Feng family's armed men here, where they would be completely annihilated. But this could only be discussed among the innermost core of the Zhao Camp; it could not be proclaimed openly, or else hearts would scatter and loyalty would crumble.

Looking at it now, that objective had been achieved. It remained only to see how the Feng family would react next. Zhao Jin, Chen Sheng, Wang Zhaojing, and Ruhui had all arrived at the same assessment of the Feng family's likely response: a wealthy, noble house from a land of pleasure and luxury like Yangzhou — their mettle had long since gone soft in the lap of comfort. They lacked the ruthless grit to fight to the bloody end.

Although Zhao Jin and the others were upwind, the breeze was light, and the stench of burning corpses still drifted over in waves. Foul as it was, in the end it could not overcome their exhaustion, and they sank into a deep sleep.

When they rose the next morning, apart from the three companies of the Zhao Camp, every other mounted martial man was sent out to scour the area for any remaining enemies, or for those who had hidden in the grass instead of fleeing. In the pitch-black night, many had not dared to run blindly and had likely gone to ground right where they were.

One tael of silver for a live captive, five hundred cash for a head. Zhao Jin very generously posted the reward. The previous day's spoils had been considerable indeed; he directly distributed thirty percent, and naturally did not begrudge the rest.

Just as Zhao Jin had expected, the search flushed out nearly two hundred more men, who were herded in utter disarray into the prisoner camp.

What surprised everyone was that the ones who captured the most, and proved most effective in the manhunt, were not these men of the jianghu, but those several dozen short, stocky, dark-skinned horsemen who looked somewhat different from the rest. Only, they had heavy blood on their hands — many who tried to flee were simply shot dead by them.

Once the captured government troops learned that Zhao Jin would not kill them, they cooperated fully with every demand he made. Not only did they identify the squad commanders, platoon commanders, and other officers in their ranks, they also pointed out the Feng family militia who were not regular troops, as well as the bandits and mounted brigands who had taken part.

Zhao Jin's course of action was simple. The bandits and mounted brigands — whether coerced or willing — had truly fought and killed against the people of the stockade. They bore blood debts, and blood debts would be repaid in blood.

One by one they were trussed up and thrown down in front of the stockade, where the refugees were made to carry out the executions — which also served to intimidate the remaining prisoners.

Some of the captured weapons and gear were distributed among the refugees. Bamboo spears were useful enough, but iron tools like long spears, sabers, and axes were the real lethal instruments. Still, not all were given out; less than a third of the able-bodied men were re-equipped.

Taking up weapons meant killing. In those two days of fierce fighting, the refugees had suffered heavy casualties. The shouts and swagger of these bandits and brigands, moreover, brought back memories of what had happened from Shandong to Xuzhou. Their hatred was bone-deep, and they showed no mercy. Once again, heads rolled.

The second group to be executed were the archers. Whether Feng family archers or government archers, they were all highly valuable assets — recruiting them would have brought far greater benefit. Even Jiang Mutou and the other Xuzhou local strongmen had wanted to take them in.

Yet these archers had inflicted even greater slaughter upon the stockade. Well over half the casualties among the Zhao Camp's mixed militia had come from arrows. If such a blood debt went unavenged, both popular sentiment and morale would suffer. This trade-off was easy to make. Again, the refugees carried out the executions. The arrow attacks had filled the refugees with bitter fury as well, and their hands were just as unhesitating.

The prisoners from every faction, watching this scene, were terrified out of their wits, each dreading that he would be next. As wave after wave of refugees came to kill, some among them vomited and wailed — yet others gradually grew accustomed, taking on a grim, chilling air.

"You must select the finest and strongest from among the refugees and make them the stockade's guard militia. Make sure they stand a cut above the rest. You must personally oversee the selection. If you don't create ranks among them, they will band together to oppose you — they may even turn on you. Even now, many among the refugees are already stronger than the men under those Xuzhou local strongmen!" Zhao Jin instructed Zhang Hubin.

Zhang Hubin nodded solemnly. Zhao Jin continued, "Regularly pick out the best and strongest and send them back to Xuzhou. I'll send you a new batch of refugees in exchange. What you hold in your hand must not be wolves — they must be sheep."

Once the killing was done, Zhao Jin did not linger at the stockade. The three companies he had brought would stay for the time being. Apart from those jianghu men who returned after lending temporary aid, the rest would also remain here for now. The casualties and remains of the mixed militia and jianghu men who had fallen or been wounded would all be brought back on this trip.

As for the refugees' corpses, they would not be so fortunate. They too would be burned to ash and scattered upon this land.

Beyond this, Zhao Jin also released two squad commanders from the government troops and gave them horses.

"You must keep a meticulous watch. I expect that within the next ten days, someone will certainly come looking. Tell them to find me at Yutou Town to talk." Zhao Jin instructed Zhang Hubin thus.