Chapter 483: The Salt Merchants Who Waited Bitterly

Zhao Jin's side, however, hired a physician to look after them. As for the others who could ride and move on their own, they were ordered to follow along directly. To make commanding and deploying them easier, a few of Wang Ziyang's guards were also assigned to accompany them, serving as interpreters.

What surprised Zhao Jin's side was that interpreters actually weren't needed. Perhaps it was Zhao Jin hiring a physician to care for them that put everyone at ease, but among the several dozen young and able-bodied men who followed along, over a dozen were actually Han Chinese.

Upon questioning them in detail, it turned out to be nothing too astonishing — nothing more than deserters, border residents, and captives who had been carried off, who had then fled from those places and roamed about just like those horse bandits, and this time had been directly recruited over.

This force proved tremendously useful during the raid and relief dash. Several dozen cavalrymen with superb horsemanship, accustomed to long-distance galloping, and with archery skills that were far from poor, added yet another layer of assurance to the Zhao Battalion's victory.

With the help of these several dozen Mongol young men, skilled in both riding and archery, Zhao Jin's side completely overwhelmed the Feng family's side in numbers of archers. Not to mention, the high-speed mobility of these several dozen Mongol riders on horseback, combined with mounted archery and dismounted shooting, inflicted even greater casualties on the enemy in a private clash of this scale.

After returning to Xuzhou, Zhao Jin immediately began preparations to fully absorb this group into the Zhao Battalion. These men were nearly all alone in the world, with no roots in Xuzhou, and after enduring so many years of hardship, as long as they were provided a place to settle, fed, and clothed warmly, their loyalty could be won.

However, having traveled all the way south to get here, and then immediately galloping nonstop on the raid and relief dash, rest and recovery were still necessary. Zhao Jin's side didn't hesitate and directly brought out the Han Well Famous Liquor.

This was something extraordinary. These young men who had come from the grasslands, during their long-distance raids, during killing and battle, had never complained of hardship or cried out in difficulty, each one bearing it in silence — yet the moment they drank this Han Well Famous Liquor, they immediately let loose, singing loudly and shouting wildly.

"... Master Jin, with this liquor you can make them utterly devoted to you, but you still have to control it somewhat, otherwise they could genuinely drink themselves to death..."

Wang Ziyang had only stopped for a few days and was already planning his return journey. All the cattle and horses he had brought had been bought up entirely by Zhao Jin. Everywhere, spring plowing and land reclamation required draft oxen, and the Zhao Battalion and other places also needed more horses.

As for what to use for payment, Wang Ziyang directly asked for distilled liquor, loading up the camels and carts as full as possible.

"... This year I'll make a few more trips. After hustling for three years, I can retire at home and enjoy life." Wang Ziyang said with a beaming smile. This cattle and horse merchant's capital and profits were already far greater than those of ordinary merchants, yet he could still say something like this — it showed just how much profit hauling this liquor out to sell elsewhere brought in.

By mid-March, Zhao Jin finally felt the salt merchants' network of connections within officialdom. Although during the confrontation with the Feng family, both sides had been wary of striking out, restrained by concerns over each other's official backing and not daring to act rashly, the outcome could only be decided by blades and force, allowing the Zhao Battalion's advantages to be fully brought into play.

But in a situation that wasn't a confrontation, using connections in officialdom was another matter entirely. During this period, a word from the Xuzhou Magistrate no longer counted for much, and Vice General Zhou's side could only be described as ordinary. The ministers of the Six Ministries in Nanjing, the two Grand Coordinators of Southern Zhili, the eunuchs and ennobled nobles within Nanjing City, the grandees of the Central Capital Fengyang — all of these the salt merchants could make use of.

The calling cards delivered to the door often carried titles so weighty they were intimidating. However, no one was using these to pressure anyone; they were merely used as a door-knocking brick.

Wang Youshan's fellow graduates and classmates from the same year in Jiangnan were also all dug up. These people sent cards, made introductions, and passed along messages, and as they were elders in speech, Zhao Jin's side also had to give them some face.

Beyond all this, every salt merchant who came calling presented lavish gifts. Though there were no rare treasures or exotic jewels, they were still sufficiently dignified and imposing. Famous local specialties from both south and north of the Yangtze were all present in abundance.

The converted carriage inn where Zhao Jin currently lived could no longer be considered small, yet now it still felt cramped, and the new establishment was not yet completed. Left with no choice, Zhao Jin and his wife had to first move back to their original residence.

After Xu Zhenzhen married over, she brought quite a few trusted confidants and close servants with her. These servants were naturally perceptive and tactful, but in private they also remarked that this son-in-law of the family was a bit rustic, as if he hadn't seen much of the world.

The Xu family of Jingshan, after all, had been immensely wealthy for many generations. Compared to Zhao Jin, who came from a humble household and had endured hard times in his early years, they were naturally far more dignified and rich.

Talk was talk, but everyone also knew the son-in-law's capabilities. Watching one awe-inspiring feat after another, they too grew increasingly respectful. The reason they called him rustic was perhaps out of a bit of sour grapes — clearly the Xu family was wealthier and of higher status than the Zhao family, yet after arriving they hadn't gained the slightest upper hand, so they always had to find some sense of superiority somewhere.

This time, however, they were all thoroughly convinced. Looking at the courtyard piled high with precious gifts, looking at the calling cards with their astonishing titles, and looking at those great merchants who were clearly from generations of wealth yet were humble and courteous, desperately pressing favors onto the servants — these household attendants finally realized just what kind of figure their son-in-law truly was.

The servants within the household gates may seem shrewd, but in truth what they saw and heard was extremely limited. With only this small patch of sky and earth, without an external shock, it was very hard for them to wake up to reality.

Zhao Jin did not meet with them one by one. He exchanged polite greetings with everyone who had sent cards and gifts, asking them to wait for the time being, while Zhao Jin himself conferred daily with his companions and trusted confidants deep into the night.

The salt merchants were normally figures who gave orders and gestured imperiously. Having left the pleasures of Yangzhou and stuck in this impoverished Xuzhou, aside from having a couple of cups of good liquor to drink, there were no other benefits. Every one of them grew very impatient from waiting. And there was yet another vexing matter — because the inn converted from the carriage stop had limited space, the attendants serving them could not all come along. Each person was limited to a few, while the rest all stayed in the nearby Little Stone Village, which made them feel even more inconvenienced.

Yet they could only grit their teeth and wait here, because during these days, the crackdown on illicit salt had never ceased.

Those traveling by water routes were one thing, but those passing through Xuzhou by land to other places were all strictly inspected, and those entering Fengyang Prefecture via Suining were also detained.

One or two shipments of salt goods were really not worth much silver. The salt merchants simply treated it as a gift to Zhao Jin and Xuzhou. But having these salt goods detained didn't just affect the present — the trouble lay in the long term. Salt goods shipped to various places were distributed by the local strongmen and den masters there. If their supply was cut off, they would seek new sources. Whose salt they sold was all the same to them.

In this way, competitors from other places would seize the opening and move in. If it were the provinces through which the Yangtze flowed, that would be one thing, but north of the Yangtze and in Huaibei there were already plenty of competitors. The Changlu Salt Fields in Northern Zhili had a situation much the same as here, and were not so far from Henan and Southern Zhili. Shandong also had scattered bits of salt goods flowing out.

If this dragged on any longer, the business would all be taken by other families. Everyone was deeply pained by this.

"... He's nothing more than a local thug from Xuzhou, yet every day he makes it seem like the Grand Secretariat, with all these discussions and meetings..."

Someone in the inn couldn't help but grumble. They had nothing to do, and there was nothing fun to be had on Xuzhou's turf, so they gathered in groups drinking all day, their complaints growing ever louder.

"... There's still business back in Yangzhou. I can't afford to delay any longer. If there's still no word back, I'm heading home..."

"You're just talking nonsense. When it comes to using salt permits to draw salt for trade, when have you ever lifted a finger? Isn't it always those few managers of your family handling everything? Now all of a sudden you're busy!"

The immense wealth of the Yangzhou salt merchants had nothing to do with business acumen. Their status was hereditary, and they held the privilege and quota for the salt monopoly. Relying on this alone, they could rake in gold by the bucketful and remain wealthy for generations, acquiring a vast family fortune without needing to toil or manage much at all.

Therefore, those who could come to Xuzhou were all figures with some ambition. Those truly content to simply enjoy their wealth paid Zhao Jin's side no attention whatsoever. Even without the Xuzhou route, they could still buy and sell salt in plenty of other places and still make their fortunes without hindrance.

Precisely because of this, the salt merchants who had come here, complaints aside, all settled their hearts and waited.

The salt merchants waited a total of eleven days. During this period, some who lacked the patience left, while others, sensing that something significant must be afoot here, hurried over.

On the twenty-sixth day of the third month, outside He Family Village, mounds of earth were piled up and a wooden platform was built atop them, rising to a height of roughly four chi off the ground. In addition, quite a few people were driving oxen and horses, dragging stone rollers to level the ground.

The salt merchants and their attendants found this a novel sight, but at the same time it made them even more anxious — when exactly would the real business be discussed? As it turned out, a single question got them the answer: tomorrow, Master Zhao would meet with everyone.

The salt merchants staying at the carriage inn numbered sixteen in total, with stewards representing other families numbering thirty, and counting their attendants, over two hundred people in all. Eighty percent of them had arrived long ago; the rest had been here less than four days.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this reply, but what followed was a mix of apprehension and curiosity. What exactly would be said tomorrow? Zhao Jin's side had presumably been deliberating for many days — would they demand an exorbitant price? If it truly was outright extortion, how should everyone respond?

Some pondered alone in their rooms, others discussed it in groups. After thinking it over, they realized there was no other way. The Feng family had so many backers and connections in official circles, yet this time they too hadn't moved and hadn't dared to move. Their own family's methods would be best not paraded out to make a fool of themselves.

Trying might perhaps be of some use, but the strength Zhao Jin had displayed was simply too formidable. If they failed to take him down in one strike and he retaliated, it would surely be a calamity. This Zhao Jin not only had deep official backing and powerful forces at his command, but also a vast number of men at his beck and call across the rivers and lakes, the greenwood, and all walks of life. A figure like that was truly all-pervasive.

After weighing the pros and cons, everyone could only reach a dejected conclusion: if Zhao Jin made outrageous demands, they had two choices. Either abandon the Xuzhou route, in which case the overland illicit salt trade to the west and north would have to be given up, or agree to Zhao Jin's terms. After deducting Zhao Jin's cut, there wouldn't be much left for them to earn.

But thinking over these two choices, in reality there was only the path of agreeing. Earning little was still earning something, after all. No one would ever complain about having too much money.

The twenty-seventh day of the third month of the forty-fifth year of the Wanli reign. Spring had long since arrived in Xuzhou; everywhere was lush with green, and the weather was clear and bright.

"It's been nearly ten days without rain, hasn't it? This year better not be another drought!" someone muttered under their breath.

"Over in Shandong it's been another two months without rain. Madam Zhang of the Spring Oriole Pavilion said she's already sent people over — they'll definitely be able to buy top-quality goods." someone said with a lewd laugh.