Chapter 512: Affairs in Henan

As long as we keep grinding without pause, he can still kill and draw blood. So what if the household troops start families and settle down? When the old ones leave, we recruit new ones. There will always be a core that stays. As long as we are here, as long as those camp commanders and camp soldiers are here, can't we train new troops? Weren't all of us here trained up just the same?

The mood eased a little. Zhao Jin clasped his hands behind his back, took a few steps, and said, "They've fought and bled for the Zhao Camp. If they want to start families and build a life, we certainly can't stop them — otherwise who would still be willing to lay down their lives for us? Settling down isn't a bad thing either. We hold so much territory now, and it's all managed on our behalf by those local strongmen. How much better to send our own people there — we could keep a tighter watch. And in a few more years, they'll only be in their thirties or forties. Can't they still fight?"

Chen Sheng's face remained expressionless; he only gripped his sword scabbard tighter. Zhao Jin continued, "Right now we let those greedy local thugs manage things for us. Who knows how much they've skimmed, how many schemes they're running on the side. Over at the refugee stockade, the refugees have settled down and are starting to form secret ties, thinking we meddle too much and resenting our control. We're short on men to station everywhere as it is. Besides, once they start families, won't their sons become our most loyal household troops?"

Zhao Jin looked at his three companions inside the wooden pavilion and couldn't help laughing. Smiling, he said, "So you're all afraid of being idle. Bingfeng, Daxiang, Shitou — they're all happier the busier they get. When I said nothing changes for ten years, did you think that meant ten years of peace and enjoyment? In these ten years, who knows how many matters great and small we'll have to handle. It's just that there probably won't be any more pitched battles like the last two years."

"Big Brother, ten years of peace — and after ten years, great chaos?" Wang Zhaojing suddenly asked.

"I can't foretell the future. Ten years is just a rough number!" Zhao Jin answered irritably. Wang Zhaojing and Ruhui always felt Zhao Jin knew something and would probe him from time to time. Zhao Jin was very guarded about this.

Wang Zhaojing smiled and cupped his fists. "Since Big Brother has thought it through so clearly, your younger brother has nothing to worry about. There is one matter to tell Big Brother: my father wrote some days ago, telling me not to set aside my studies these next two years. I am to go to the capital for the metropolitan examination the year after next."

Pass the metropolitan examination, go through the formality of the palace examination, and the next step was the status of a presented scholar — truly becoming a man above men in the Great Ming, whether governing a region as a local official or becoming a pure and honored official in the capital. Either was an extraordinary future and status.

With Wang Youshan's current standing, Wang Zhaojing's path through the civil examinations would hardly be difficult. Chen Sheng gave a cold snort and said, "So you can't let go of that wealth and rank after all."

Before Zhao Jin could speak, Wang Zhaojing answered with a smile, "Even if by luck I pass, this younger brother still means to return to Xuzhou. An official career — how could it compare to the interest here?"

"A smooth talker!" Chen Sheng jabbed, but did not press further.

Zhao Jin caught on to something and said with a rueful smile, "Listening to you, it almost sounds like I've become some great menace. If our Zhao Camp really intends to do something, then this exam of yours would be unnecessary?"

Wang Zhaojing smiled, then said solemnly, "Big Brother, if Big Brother... no... if our Zhao Camp were to rise in revolt, that would be the greatest calamity under heaven. At that point, the matter of the civil examinations would not be worth mentioning."

Chen Sheng let out a scoff. Wang Zhaojing showed a faint smile and continued, "The realm is at peace now. The Tatar threat in the north has already rotted away. Since the border markets opened, there have been no border troubles for decades. The Japanese pirate scourge in the southeast has also been eliminated. The various provinces north and south suffer famines and scattered peasant uprisings, but these truly do not harm the greater order — they cannot shake the foundations. Only our Zhao Camp is fierce and deadly as wolves and tigers, supported by the framework Big Brother has built, and positioned right here in this vital heartland. If we truly made a move, it would instantly plunge the realm into chaos. Though the final outcome is unpredictable, great disorder would be unavoidable."

"That's arrogance too, making us sound like demons and monsters," Zhao Jin said dismissively.

Everyone laughed. Zhao Jin sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of the pavilion and spoke: "Dasheng is right. We cannot slack off. Under us brothers are thousands upon tens of thousands of men, and who knows how many more depend on us for their livelihood and peace. If we grow lax, the whole situation will collapse into utter chaos."

After saying this, Zhao Jin fell silent for a moment, then said, "We have no great enemy now, and it's not fitting to go looking for one. What we must do, what we can do, is not loosen our grip — maintain what we've built well, then make it even better, and deeply cultivate the territory we've already firmly seized. That is all we can do."

Everyone nodded. A smile finally returned to Zhao Jin's face. He spoke: "Don't think that from now on it's peace under heaven. Don't think that from now on it will truly be dull and boring. Who can say for sure?"

His words had barely faded when, from the other side, they saw a household troop of the personal guard running over at a quick pace. He was stopped when he reached the outer edge of the wooden pavilion; only when Liu Yong gave a gesture was the man let through.

The weather was cold, yet the man was drenched in sweat from running. He came up and said, "Master, Wang Ziyang's merchant caravan was robbed at Mamu Market in Guide Prefecture. Wang Ziyang is unharmed, but four of his men are dead and ten wounded. All the goods, livestock, and the like were taken. The men have now reached He Village. Commander Ji sent this humble one to report."

Everyone in the wooden pavilion was stunned at this news. They exchanged glances, were silent for a moment, then all burst into loud laughter. The laughter erupted so suddenly that not only was the messenger taken aback, but even the trainee troops of the Learner Squad looked over curiously.

"Wanting things to be dull and boring — it's really not that easy," Zhao Jin said with a laugh. Everyone laughed in agreement.

The household troops found it baffling. Wang Ziyang's relationship with the Zhao Camp was quite good; he was practically one of their own. That was precisely why, when he was robbed and fled here, the entire Zhao Camp treated the matter with the utmost gravity. So why were the masters all so happy?

Outside guests were all lodged over at He Village, where only two companies were stationed. Zhao Jin and the others usually stayed at the newly built encampment, so it would take some time to get there.

The old barracks at He Village had mostly been converted into inns and shops. The inns at He Village were now the best in all of Xuzhou — and even counting the Pizhou region beyond Yutou Town. They were built to the standards of Yangzhou and Qingjiangpu. A few had even been funded by Yangzhou salt merchants, who never forgot their comforts and gave the Xuzhou local strongmen a thorough lesson in the finer points of clothing, food, housing, and travel.

When Zhao Jin and the others reached He Village, they saw a crowd of onlookers gathered outside one of the inns. The household troop guiding them indicated that this was where Wang Ziyang and his people were staying.

After household troops were dispatched to disperse the crowd, Zhao Jin and the others entered the inn. No wonder so many people had been watching the excitement — Wang Ziyang and his entire group were sitting right there in the main hall, every one of them covered in dust and bloodstains, a thoroughly wretched sight.

The moment he saw Zhao Jin, Wang Ziyang hurriedly stood, then knelt, weeping. "Master Jin, I beg you to act! Grant me justice!"

The thirty-odd men around him all dropped to their knees in a rush. Zhao Jin recognized several familiar faces: the middle-aged man was Surige, that burly fellow was Hulegen, and there was also Amur — all Tatar associates of Wang Ziyang who had gone out on operations with the Zhao Camp and fought side by side with them.

Judging by the looks and attire of the men around Wang Ziyang, they were likely all guards. It was thanks to having these men at his side that Wang Ziyang had managed to escape at all — otherwise it was an open question.

Zhao Jin stepped forward and helped Wang Ziyang to his feet, then waved his hand and said, "Everyone, stand up. Whoever dares touch you touches our Zhao Camp. I will see justice done for you!"

Wang Ziyang had not come to Xuzhou for about half a year. He was managing things in Shanxi, with trusted men handling the transport and sale of goods back and forth: furs, livestock, and manpower from beyond the passes and the steppe, and Xuzhou's liquor and various specialty products on the return. Every trip was a grand procession of large carts and camels, an imposing sight.

In the past, these cattle and horse traders would drive huge herds of livestock south, and on the return journey they would have converted them into silver. They were not easy targets on the way down, and on the way back they drew little attention. With guards who dared to fight and kill at their side, they were naturally safe.

But now, with large amounts of wealth and goods trundling about in plain sight day after day, they were far too conspicuous. Naturally, there were those whose eyes grew red with greed.

Mamu Market was about sixty li from the Guide Prefecture seat of Shangqiu. In earlier years, there had been a mule and horse market there, but it had long since declined, leaving only the name. That was where Wang Ziyang had been robbed.

Wang Ziyang had chosen late autumn, early winter to come to Xuzhou — first, to stock up on goods for the year's end; second, to settle this year's accounts; and, along the way, to finalize arrangements for the coming year.

Since that was his purpose in coming, he had prepared ample gifts and goods. Moreover, with winter setting in, this was when the livestock were fat and strong, and the quality of the cattle and horses he brought was especially fine.

By now, Wang Ziyang could travel unhindered within Shanxi. For the sake of his liquor supply, the border garrisons of Shanxi and Datong, as well as the powerful merchants of Shanxi, all gave Wang Ziyang every convenience. Even the forest brigands and mounted bandits did not dare provoke him.

Henan, however, was not so easy. Entering Henan from Shanzhou, crossing the Yellow River, and traveling along the southern bank — the stretch through Henan Prefecture and Kaifeng Prefecture was manageable. The riverside regions there were densely populated with thriving towns, so bandits did not operate in those parts. It was only the local thugs and petty extortionists along the way who needed to be paid off.

But upon entering Guide Prefecture, after passing Xinji and Dingjia Crossing near the prefectural seat of Shangqiu, one reached the borderlands where three provinces met — a no-man's-land where outlaws from Shandong, Southern Zhili, and Henan gathered in droves.

Wang Ziyang's caravan had stopped for the night at a large cart inn at Mamu Market. In the night, over a thousand men surrounded them. Fortunately, the guards around Wang Ziyang were loyal. They had faced encirclement by large bands of horse bandits out on the steppe beyond the passes and knew what to do in such a moment. The guards took Wang Ziyang and the key personnel, abandoned the goods and valuables, mounted their horses, and charged straight out.

The bandits had come for wealth and were naturally unwilling to fight a hard battle. Moreover, these guards were quite formidable with bow and horse — at ranges within a dozen paces, not a single arrow missed. They quickly cleared a path. Yet it was precisely because of the crush and press of bodies that the mounted charge inevitably suffered some losses, and those who could not ride had no way to escape at all.

Thanks to "Sweet Sugarcane, Immovable as a Mountain, Evening Song, 123*, Yuan Heng Lizhen" and several other old friends for their tips. Book friend Sweet Sugarcane is now a Dharma Protector of this book; book friend Immovable as a Mountain is now a Grandmaster of this book. Thank you to everyone who cast monthly tickets yesterday, and thank you for your clicks and recommendations. I must keep working hard today — the second update will be at ten o'clock!