Chapter 548

But doing it was nowhere near that easy. Qingjiangpu had flourished for so long that every trade had long since carved out its own sphere of influence. The carting and horse business, for one, was monopolized by two great gangs from Henan and Shandong, and behind these gangs and guilds, the shadowy figures of powerful families and official gentry loomed faintly.

Before Wang Dagang and his group banded together, they had lived in bitter hardship. After uniting, they fought off two waves of harassment from the Henan Gang and then secured the freight business of several cloth shops. Life became a little better than before—and then they were met with even greater suppression.

"Everything in Qingjiangpu has its rules." From the canal to the shore, from top to bottom, from officials and gentry to the outlaws of the rivers and lakes, Qingjiangpu had long since formed a system. Every faction, every person had their place within it, receiving the benefits they were due. This system had not changed in decades.

But Wang Dagang and his group wanted to break this system—or at least, unwilling to stay at the bottom, they wanted to climb one rung higher. This was something that every facet of the system found intolerable.

Two or three hundred able-bodied men would be no small force in the underworld of any other place, but here in Qingjiangpu, they truly counted for nothing. The great carting gangs of Henan and Shandong could mobilize far more men than that number, to say nothing of the fact that their opponents had also deployed government runners.

During the time Wang Dagang was hiding and recovering from his injuries, he had also heard and learned some news. He knew that his enemies were not merely the carting gangs. This strike was, to a greater extent, a lesson to other malcontents, to make them know fear. In Qingjiangpu's system of dividing spoils, those who came first naturally took the greater share, and those who arrived later were of course discontent. Wang Dagang's group of independent carters was merely one example among many—they had been made the chicken to warn the monkeys.

"... Master Jin, in the struggles of the rivers and lakes, it's only right to admit defeat when beaten. This humble one has nothing to say, nothing to ask. But those great carting gangs of Shandong and Henan went far, far too far. That was nearly two hundred lives! Those killed in the fighting, the old and weak burned to death afterward... Master Jin, most of them were our own Xuzhou people. A tragedy. This humble one's own suffering counts for nothing, but they died a wrongful death. I beg Master Jin to uphold justice, I beg Master Jin to give them justice!" Wang Dagang grew more and more agitated as he spoke, his eyes reddening, his voice taking on a sobbing tone, his head knocking loudly against the floor.

"I will uphold justice for you!" Zhao Jin declared in a ringing voice.

Hearing this, Wang Dagang looked up in stunned disbelief. He had thought he would have to weep and plead bitterly, that the other party would deliberate again and again and might still not agree. After all, upholding justice meant sending men over—it meant fighting, spending money, suffering casualties. Such a grave matter would give anyone serious pause. He had come to beg precisely because he had heard scattered rumors and, after returning, had them confirmed by his own elder brother. Only then did he muster the courage to come, but he had not held much hope. Who could have imagined such a swift and ready agreement?

Then, looking again at the several young faces seated in the places of honor, Wang Dagang felt it was not very reliable. Agreeing so readily—did that mean they would not actually go and do it? Young men, their blood boiling for a moment, agree, and afterward, when the elders in charge learn of it, they weigh the pros and cons and will surely put a stop to it.

This was already his second time spacing out. Even Dong Jike, sitting to the side, could not bear to watch any longer. He immediately coughed and said, "Since Little Jin has agreed to it for you, there will be no mistake. Go home and wait at ease!"

Battalion Commander Wang hastily bowed in thanks and dragged the half-believing, half-doubting Wang Dagang, who had lost his composure, out of the main hall. The moment the two brothers left, Zhao Jin frowned and asked, "Uncle Dong, these past two years, we Xuzhou men have fought our way to a whole new situation. How is it that someone with martial skill and ability like him is still living so wretchedly?"

Hearing his question, Dong Jike first gave a bitter smile, then let out a long sigh. Shaking his head with emotion, he said, "The military households of our Guard—they suffer!"

Seeing Dong Jike, who looked every bit a man of wealth, sigh with such feeling, Zhao Jin found it exceedingly strange. Yet he also knew that Dong Jike's emotion came from the heart. As a Battalion Commander of the Xuzhou Guard, Dong Jike was naturally well aware of the Guard's internal affairs. What he had seen and heard over so many years naturally gave him much to lament.

The root of the problem lay in two things. The land in Xuzhou was barren, and the status, qualifications, and garrison farmland of a Guard military household could only be inherited by the eldest son.

The barren land could not support so many people, and powerful, wealthy households occupied vast tracts of farmland, further worsening the situation of too many people and too little land.

Each Guard had five battalions, totaling over five thousand soldiers, and each soldier had a fixed amount of farmland. This figure was set in stone. But this figure had been set when the founding emperor, Zhu Yuanzhang, established the dynasty. Back then, the soldiers married, their families branched out, they bore sons, and those sons married in turn. Generation after generation passed, and the number of people grew ever larger. In the beginning, the farmland was still relatively ample; one share split into two could still support people. But the farmland was limited while the people kept multiplying, so naturally, there was not enough to go around. Not to mention that the Guard Commander and Battalion Commanders also encroached upon and seized land for themselves.

Now, two hundred years since the founding of the Great Ming, the farmland of the Guard was stretched unbearably thin. Even if you wanted to stay in the Guard as a tenant farmer or long-term laborer, there might not even be land for you to till.

Because of this, the Guard military households had formed their own customs. Needless to say for the Guard Commander and Battalion Commanders, and also needless to say for someone like Zhao Zhentang who sought his own path—for military households below the rank of Vice Battalion Commander, the family estate was inherited only by the eldest son. Daughters were fine once married off, but all other sons and male offspring had to seek their own way in the world. Once they reached a certain age, the family would no longer support them. If they stayed at home and refused to leave, their food, clothing, and daily necessities would be treated as even lower than that of long-term laborers and tenant farmers. Therefore, in Guard military households, all male children other than the eldest son went to learn a trade. The second and third sons often chose to learn martial arts, while the eldest son, though inheriting the status of the Guard military household, might not necessarily know martial arts and might only understand farming and managing the estate.

This was also the origin of the martial spirit prevalent across Xuzhou. With no way to scratch a living from the soil, one could only seek a life through blade-edge slaughter. No matter how degraded the Guard became, it was still a military lineage with a tradition of practicing martial arts. Most of the surplus males of the Xuzhou Guard walked this path.

Some, like Zhao Zhenxing, traveled far and wide, seeking to win glory and riches on the battlefield. Some roamed the rivers and lakes and the greenwood, fighting and risking their lives for a bit of pleasure. Some became guards for hire or household protectors. Still others simply went elsewhere to do manual labor, relying on their strength and courage to live a little better than others. Men like Wang Dagang were fairly common. With martial skills, they were bullied less out in the world. Even if they did not engage in those blood-soaked trades, their work and labor were far better than others'.

"Don't they know to come back? Our Xuzhou needs capable people like these right now..." Zhao Jin asked, puzzled.

The situation in Xuzhou was now excellent. Compared to the motley assortment of people coming from outside to offer their services, the martial men of Xuzhou itself, especially those from the Xuzhou Guard, were known to the core and the most trustworthy. The Zhao and Dong families within the Xuzhou Guard already had ties. The martial men there had no entanglements of interest with the local powerful and wealthy households—they were the most suitable candidates. As long as they came, Zhao Jin would certainly give them a path forward. The three newly reestablished units—the Salt Patrol, the River Patrol, and the Bandit Patrol—were all filled with martial men from the Xuzhou Guard, and every one of them was living well.

To Zhao Jin's puzzlement, Dong Jike only gave a bitter smile. His answer was also very simple: "Come back for what? That little bit at home—one extra mouth to feed and it all collapses. After the canal changed course away from us, you couldn't even make it in the rivers and lakes anymore. The only choice was to leave. To find a way to survive, to find a job outside—how is that not better than coming back?"

Dong Jike's words made the atmosphere in the room very heavy. However, the smile Dong Jike wore next was no longer bitter, but rather teasing. "No one could have imagined the changes of these past two years, still less that you could create such a situation in Xuzhou. Even if they heard, they wouldn't care. Other people's business is other people's business. Who would dare throw away the livelihood they have in hand and come back? What if it turned out to be false? Wouldn't they then lose out on both ends?"

That was true enough. News traveled poorly to begin with. When the refugees besieged Xuzhou—a matter of such magnitude—Yangzhou City only received detailed news nearly half a month later. And knowing the news was one thing; whether it was true or false was another thing entirely.

Seven or eight young men, not even twenty years old, leading a group just as young, and yet so battle-hardened and victorious, sweeping away all the powers—it sounded like nothing more than a storyteller's tale. To say it was true, how could anyone believe it?

Dong Jike had brought the Wang brothers over and introduced them, and with that, the matter was settled. The year's end was approaching, and the Guard was also exceedingly busy. In particular, the upper and lower ranks of the Xuzhou Guard were tightly integrated with the Zhao Camp system, and all business-related ventures were thriving. The Guard's high-ranking officers, the Commander and Battalion Commanders, were all preoccupied and busy, without a moment to spare.

The Guard's defenses were considerably better than those of the prefectural city, and there were many martial men there. Dong Bingfeng had asked Dong Jike to move to He Village, but Dong Jike paid it no mind. Left with no choice, they had to send men over to the Guard to protect him.

After seeing Dong Jike off, the Wang brothers also returned with him to the Guard. To Zhao Jin and his companions' way of thinking, when brothers had been toiling away from home, going back for a visit as the New Year approached was only right and proper. The elders at home would surely be happy. They never expected Dong Jike to say this in private: "In Guard military households, except for the one who carries on the family line, none of the others are allowed to come home for the New Year. An extra mouth is a drain. And if there's any dispute over something, that's just trouble. Originally, Wang Dagang was going to stay at He Village and wait for news. It was only because you, Little Jin, were willing to see them that he could go back and stay a few days. Otherwise, wouldn't he have lost face?"

Hearing this, Zhao Jin and his companions were speechless for a moment. The lives of the Guard military households were actually this harsh. Despite their many dealings, they had never understood it deeply.

Once the men had left, the companions did not disperse. They all gathered in the study. The attack on the cattle and horse merchant Wang Ziyang in Guide Prefecture, Henan, had greatly excited Zhao Jin and his companions. It had been a means to open up the situation in Guide Prefecture. But that excitement had been fleeting. To put it plainly, Guide Prefecture bordered Xuzhou, so it was a natural, inevitable trend—something they had simply done in passing. This time, however, was completely different.

"Big Brother, Qingjiangpu is the most critical place in the northern part of the Southern Metropolitan Region. The forces of all sides are tangled and mixed together there. And Qingjiangpu is not like the several places we've already moved to take. That place involves the immense profits of canal transport and tribute grain. Once we make a move, we will inevitably cut off other people's sources of wealth, and when that happens, we will certainly face a ferocious counterattack. Big Brother, you must be cautious!" Wang Zhaojing spoke first.

Thank you to the book friend Mu Ming for the reward, and thank you, everyone.