Chapter 496: Can We Take It a Bit Easier Now?

With the matter settled, Wang Wanmu was in excellent spirits, holding forth loudly with his traveling companions in the caravan inn. Before long, these words reached Zhao Jin's ears.

"Big Brother, you must not let your guard down. The Feng family is like a centipede that refuses to die even after being cut into a hundred pieces—they surely still have tricks up their sleeve. This is nothing but a stalling tactic!" In Zhao Jin's study, Wang Zhaojing spoke with grave solemnity.

The brothers could all see that after Wang Wanmu's arrival, Zhao Jin had become much more relaxed.

"I know that. Between us and the Feng family, it's simply a matter of one living and the other dying. But right now we can't wipe them out, and they need time to catch their breath too, so it's a good moment to make peace. As for what happens in the future, what value do these verbal promises really hold?" Zhao Jin replied with a smile.

Seeing that Zhao Jin had thought it through clearly, both Wang Zhaojing and Ruhui in the room breathed a sigh of relief. Still, Ruhui cautiously advised, "Master, these great clans put on a good face outwardly, but behind the scenes they are ruthless and merciless. If we can deal with them sooner, it's better to deal with them sooner!"

Zhao Jin nodded, glanced at the two of them, and said, "You don't need to worry too much. You have to see the greater trend. We are growing stronger, and the Feng family is growing weaker. Under this momentum, the Feng family cannot turn things around."

No one disputed this trend. Ruhui glanced at Wang Zhaojing, stepped forward, and reported, "Master, that Cai De wants to build large boats. He says most of Cai Kui's vessels are old and in disrepair. After patching them up, they'd be fine for pontoons or docks, but not enough for intercepting ships on the Yellow River."

"Give him the silver. Tell him to do the job properly. Once the boats are built, you need to find someone who knows the trade to go inspect them. Don't let him think he can cut corners!" Zhao Jin agreed without hesitation.

Ruhui quickly acknowledged the order. This was the main reason he had come to the study. Having received his answer, he bid farewell to Wang Zhaojing and Zhao Jin and hurriedly left.

"It's rare to see Big Brother spend money so readily. Usually you're so frugal." Wang Zhaojing chuckled, walking over to the desk.

"We're right by the Yellow River, not far from the Grand Canal either, and further south it's all dense waterways. If we could have a fleet to transport our Zhao Camp, coming and going freely would be incredibly convenient!" Zhao Jin said with a smile.

Wang Zhaojing nodded, opened a wooden box on the desk, and took out several booklets inside. Zhao Jin, seated before the desk, sank into deep thought.

Right now, the Zhao Camp's two-thousand-odd men couldn't be called numerous, but once they mobilized, the sheer number of people, along with the supplies, equipment, wagons, and draft animals they required, meant an enormous transport capacity. Traveling by water, a boat could carry far more weight than wagons and horses, and it didn't require fodder expenses either. In this region crisscrossed with waterways, it would certainly be much more convenient.

Zhao Jin hadn't originally been able to attend to all this, but setting up the salt market meant controlling the waterways. Controlling the waterways meant exterminating the river bandits and recruiting men who worked the water. One link led to the next, and now they were about to reach the link of building boats.

Both Ruhui and Wang Zhaojing held the office of Chief Steward and had always thought Zhao Jin was very meticulous with money. They had assumed Cai De's request would be rejected, so everyone was rather surprised when Zhao Jin agreed so decisively.

"Big Brother, here are the recent court gazettes, along with a letter from my father. I've already punctuated them for you." Wang Zhaojing placed the several booklets in front of Zhao Jin.

Reading the court gazettes was a habit of Zhao Jin's. Those who knew of it all found it peculiar—a local strongman and martial figure from the countryside being so concerned with affairs of state was truly baffling.

No one even said Zhao Jin had ambitions. How could a Xuzhou magnate possibly harbor such grand designs? It was simply too mismatched.

During the period when Wang Zhaojing was away studying for the examinations, Ruhui had always been the one to punctuate the gazettes. The task was not exactly easy, nor was it strictly confidential, and it was quite tedious. Yet after Wang Zhaojing returned, he took it over. Several times Ruhui offered to help, but Wang Zhaojing politely yet firmly refused.

As for why the Wang family's private letters were shown to Zhao Jin, that was also because of Wang Zhaojing. Although the court gazettes recorded events of the court and the realm, their content was limited after all, and they contained much useless information—things like the marriages and funerals of princes, or changes in celestial phenomena. Wang Zhaojing wrote asking Wang Youshan to compile news from various quarters of the capital and transmit it to Xuzhou in the form of family letters, which were then passed on to Zhao Jin.

The news from the court and various regions was also numerous and complicated. Wang Youshan, whose status was growing ever more elevated and who corresponded frequently with all quarters, had no spare time to write specially. For this purpose, he had specifically hired two clerks in the capital to handle the task. This, however, aroused no particular curiosity or surprise—in an official's household, it was only natural to ensure the younger generation was exposed to major events and government affairs, especially since Wang Zhaojing was already a Provincial Graduate and would sooner or later enter officialdom.

Zhao Jin had been reading them for a long time, and Wang Zhaojing now knew what content Zhao Jin needed to understand. His annotations had become increasingly targeted—for instance, officials entering or leaving their posts at court, or those involved in factional struggles, were often marked with their factional affiliation.

"These past few months, all I've seen are Donglin people being dismissed." Zhao Jin leafed through them carefully and remarked with a smile.

"The Donglin faction treats everyone else as wicked and corrupt. The same sordid deeds—when they do them, it's righteous and for the greater good; when others do them, it's villainy. Naturally, they've lost popular support. Moreover, the Donglin people don't accept outsiders, which instead has driven everyone else to band together and unite against them." Wang Zhaojing explained with a smile.

Wang Zhaojing rummaged in the box again and pulled out another booklet. Opening it and flipping through a few pages, he said, "My father mentioned that this Capital Evaluation clearing out the Donglin faction's power may not be a bad thing for the Donglin people themselves. At least the Capital Evaluation operates within the framework of official posts. If the timing hadn't coincided just right, the other factions might have launched major cases to arrest people, and then it would truly be a matter of life and death. Big Brother, look at this."

As he spoke, he handed the booklet to Zhao Jin and said in a grave tone, "Whether it's the court, Liaodong, or even Shandong, there's no news at all about the Jurchens. There is, however, a report that several dozen men from Liaodong went beyond the border and were all killed by the Eastern Barbarians. Liaodong didn't take it seriously. The only reason this news came back at all was that a steward of the Liaodong Army Supervisor returned to the capital and mentioned it as idle gossip."

Every time the Eastern Barbarians northeast of Liaodong—that is, the various Jurchen tribes—were mentioned, Zhao Jin's expression always became extremely solemn. This greatly puzzled Wang Zhaojing, who had studied the area several times but could never reach any conclusion.

"The men were just killed like that? And no one did anything about it?" Zhao Jin asked gravely.

Wang Zhaojing smiled helplessly and shook his head. "I originally thought the border garrisons defending the frontier were sworn enemies of these barbarians and caitiffs. Now I know they're actually in cahoots. Those border generals have countless ties with the outside and make their fortunes together with those tribal chieftains. What are a few dozen lives to them? It's even likely the border generals will claim those men were deserters or fugitives, and that they got what they deserved!"

Zhao Jin exhaled and said no more on the subject. Instead, he opened another booklet and said, "Shandong is suffering another severe drought this year. We can take this chance to recruit some refugees. As for the Incense Sect's rebellion, I don't think we need to worry—they've already stirred up enough trouble for themselves!"

Wang Zhaojing knew Zhao Jin was changing the subject. Every time the Jurchens were brought up, Zhao Jin always seemed to want to say something but then held back, which Wang Zhaojing found very strange. However, he was a man who observed proper boundaries and would not press for answers even among his own brothers.

"Big Brother, last time, without the Incense Sect's guidance, the refugees wouldn't have headed for Xuzhou. This time, the number of refugees reaching us probably won't be very large," Wang Zhaojing said.

Last time, the Incense Sect had instigated refugees to besiege Xuzhou. While their intentions were certainly malicious, on the other hand, it was precisely because of their organization that large numbers of refugees had been able to persist in traveling from Shandong to South Zhili. Now, the likelihood of the Incense Sect repeating that was very small. Perhaps scattered refugees would flee here, but a large influx would be very difficult.

Zhao Jin fell silent. He tapped his hand on the tabletop, then suddenly spoke: "How much silver in cash do we take in annually now?"

By mid-April, Xuzhou was lush with greenery everywhere, and the flavor of early summer was already strong. But beyond the passes, among the white mountains and black waters, aside from the evergreens, seeing any green was still very difficult.

Many people in Liaodong knew that if you headed toward the Jianzhou territory and then kept going east and north, you would reach the sea before long. The products along that route were extremely abundant—wild ginseng, sable pelts, deer antler, amber, and other goods in high demand by the Great Ming were mostly produced there.

However, it had been a long time since anyone from Liaodong had traveled that way. Great Ming merchants now found it very difficult to enter that region. If they wanted to purchase the various products from Jianzhou and Haixi, they could only go to Hetu Ala.

Traveling straight east from Shenyang City, then following the Suzi River southeast, one would reach this modest town. To the eyes of merchants from the Great Ming, Hetu Ala was less a city than a stockade. The main material of its walls was adobe, and one could also see wooden planks and timber pillars. Though its scale was passable, it looked exceedingly crude.

But "passable scale" depended on what one compared it to. Any largish county or departmental seat in the Great Ming interior was far more imposing than this.

The streets inside the city were not wide, just dirt roads that turned into a morass of mud whenever it rained—one might even lose a boot stepping into it. The buildings lining both sides of the streets were mostly wooden huts; brick and tile houses were rare. One could even see shacks. The central area was slightly more orderly, with a very large compound that looked like the mansion of a wealthy Great Ming household, and a few wooden towers could be seen—a rather unusual architectural style.

Such crude shabbiness was truly an eyesore. If one were told that this town was actually a capital, and that large compound was actually a royal palace, one would surely laugh one's teeth out.

Yet none of the Great Ming merchants who came here to do business dared say such a thing. Before coming, they would also warn the assistants and stewards traveling with them: under no circumstances show it. Here, the Great Ming considered the place its own vassal territory, appointing native officials to govern it, and in all official documents it was still called the Jianzhou Guard. But the people here had long since founded their own state, plainly calling it the Great Jin, and this Hetu Ala was the Great Jin's capital.

Those older could still remember: twenty, thirty years ago, when one came here, one could mock and jeer at these Jurchen savages as one pleased. Though those Jurchens could understand the Han tongue, they would still receive you with smiling faces. Ten years ago, if you spoke that way, you'd likely get a beating. In recent years, they'd simply draw their blades and kill you, swallow your goods, and you'd have nowhere to weep.