Chapter 551: A Clever Man

Ji Xiang wasn't very interested in the long sword, but she took quite a liking to the short one. She tucked it into her sash and practiced drawing it from close range.

"The Japanese call this a sword. Small as their country is, they do have some unique skill in this area," Wang Zhaojing remarked, examining it purely as an observer.

Zhao Jin, for his part, was wholly absorbed in studying the short fire lance. The Xu family of Jingshan could make bird guns, three-eyed guns, and quick guns, but none of these traditional Ming firearms ever satisfied him. He thought the bird gun's specifications were wrong, and the three-eyed gun and quick gun had so little power they were practically fireworks. Better firearms existed in this era, so why not use them? Moreover, whether in terms of the Zhao Camp's own combat equipment or the enemies around them, there was no pressing need for firearms yet. So they had kept planning and waiting all this time.

This gem-inlaid short fire lance was about a foot long, which gave Zhao Jin a faint sense of familiarity. He remembered seeing similar things in certain gift shops in his memories—though those items were purely ornamental, with no practical value whatsoever.

Never mind the real-or-fake gemstones and colored glass on it; the priming pan, matchlock clamp, trigger, and barrel were all properly fitted. When the trigger was pulled, every part moved smoothly. But without a ramrod, without match cord, without black powder, it was nothing more than an ordinary craft piece.

European smoothbore guns and matchlock guns of this era had a very simple structure—essentially just a scaled-up, lengthened version of this short fire lance, perhaps with the addition of a forked firing rest. Since this Yu family could get their hands on a short fire lance, could they also obtain those standard-issue firearm equipment?

The estate where Zhao Jin and the others were staying wasn't very far from He Village. Not long after the gifts had been transported over, the people were summoned in as well. Two people were called in from the Yu family party: one was the steward, and the other was the young master who had been disguised as a servant.

The young gentleman was around twenty years old. His demeanor was quite composed, though when he entered the main hall and saw how young Zhao Jin and his companions all were, he couldn't help a flicker of surprise. The steward was very nervous—you could tell he was deeply worried for his young master's safety, always trying to walk in front to shield him.

Zhao Jin raised the fire lance one-handed and took aim, then lowered it and shook his head. Though it was a short gun, it was by no means light. Zhao Jin had great confidence in his arm strength, but holding it level like this was still somewhat taxing; he felt he couldn't keep it up for long. It seemed this thing was only meant for quick, close-range use.

The young gentleman had been bowing and lowering his head in feigned deference the whole time, but in truth he kept stealing glances at the people in the room. At first he thought Zhao Jin, seated in the center, was fiddling with it endlessly out of novelty. When he realized Zhao Jin was actually quite familiar with the object, he grew somewhat astonished.

Zhao Jin set down the fire lance and spoke: "We've never met before, and there's neither favor nor grudge between us. This gift is far too generous—it's rather strange. Do you have some request to make?"

Before the two across from him could speak, Zhao Jin continued, "My name is Zhao Jin. The steward, old uncle, I know. May I ask how the young master behind you is called?"

Steward Hua shuddered all over, a look of alarm spreading across his face. Before he could react, Yu Zhiyuan behind him gave a rueful smile, stepped forward, and bowed in salute. "This student is Yu Zhiyuan. I pay my respects to Headman Zhao, and to all of you gentlemen. A petty little trick—I've made a laughingstock of myself before you all."

Though his hidden identity had been exposed, he showed no fluster or loss of composure, remaining perfectly at ease. This attitude left Zhao Jin and his companions with a rather favorable impression.

"So it's Young Master Yu. If there were no particular reason, I doubt you'd have come all the way from Songjiang to Xuzhou, much less presented such a lavish gift so perfectly tailored to one's interests. Though this is our first meeting, Songjiang is far from Xuzhou, and the New Year is nearly upon us. Whatever your purpose is, please speak plainly!" Zhao Jin got straight to the point.

The moment he saw Yu Zhiyuan and the steward in person, Zhao Jin knew they hadn't come to Xuzhou for amusement or sightseeing. Something deeply engraved in their hearts had brought them here—otherwise they wouldn't carry such grave expressions and bearing.

"Squire Zhao is indeed forthright. Then…" Yu Zhiyuan proved himself capable of rising to the occasion, hastily bowing with clasped hands as he spoke, his form of address growing a shade more familiar.

Zhao Jin nodded slowly. Though he and his companions were young, they had been through a hundred battles and slaughters, and the killing aura about them was heavy. A pampered young master from an established family like this, who had never experienced much, yet remained so composed at a first meeting—his steadiness of mind was truly remarkable.

But Yu Zhiyuan's pleasantries were cut off halfway. Wang Zhaojing, seated to one side, frowned and said, "Did this brother perhaps sit for the provincial examinations in Nanjing last year? You look very familiar."

Yu Zhiyuan paused at that, then turned and admitted, "I did indeed pass in that examination session."

At this reply, a smile broke across Wang Zhaojing's face. He cupped his fists in salute and said, "I also passed the provincial examinations in that same session. To think we are of the same year—I have been most remiss in courtesy."

Classmates and same-year graduates—this was how the network of literati and scholars was built. Had they been in officialdom, Wang Zhaojing and Yu Zhiyuan, both being from the Southern Metropolitan Region and having passed the provincial exams in the same year, could already be classed as belonging to the same faction.

A smile surfaced on Yu Zhiyuan's face, and his expression was no longer as tense as before. As he saw it, with this connection in place, his business would be much easier to handle. Once they claimed some mutual acquaintance, they'd surely grow closer. And with a fellow scholar present, the Zhao Camp would surely be reasonable.

But what he hadn't expected was that after saying those words, Wang Zhaojing said nothing further. He nodded to Zhao Jin and sat back down, showing no intention whatsoever of building on the connection.

Yu Zhiyuan was quick on the uptake. He immediately gave a rueful laugh. The man had asked, probably because he had indeed seen him somewhere in or around the Nanjing examination hall, and was sounding him out. After all, a provincial graduate had clear local roots—no need to worry about anything.

Only then did it suddenly strike Yu Zhiyuan: could the one who asked be that brother of Zhao Jin's—the son of a pure-stream official, a young provincial graduate? When he'd heard about it earlier, he'd thought it utterly preposterous. How could a scholar with such boundless prospects be running around with a major underworld figure? Now it seemed it was actually true?

A few exchanges of words, thoughts racing like lightning—to an outsider, Yu Zhiyuan merely smiled faintly before turning to Zhao Jin and saying, "Squire Zhao, I have a matter to request of you. If Squire Zhao can accomplish it, I will certainly reward you handsomely. And should this matter succeed, the benefit to Squire Zhao will go far beyond my reward—one could call it vast and rich profit!"

"Please speak," Zhao Jin said, betraying no attitude, merely gesturing for the other to explain clearly.

"…I ask Squire Zhao to uphold justice for me!" At these words from Yu Zhiyuan, Zhao Jin couldn't help but laugh. The others in the room also struggled to contain their amusement. These days, they'd heard those words more than once…

The Yu family wanted to switch from canal transport to sea transport—on one hand for the benefit of the local people, and on the other for their own benefit and the realm's. If this could be done, the Great Ming would gain immensely, and the Yu family would likely grow rich enough to rival a nation.

But how many people profited from canal transport? How could they possibly allow a single wealthy household in the provinces to obstruct them? Just as Yu Zhiyuan was step by step nearing the launch, the Taihu bandits struck. In broad daylight they burned the Yu family's sand ships moored at Shanghai Harbor, and warned that if they kept scheming about canal transport matters, the next step would be slaughter and the extermination of their clan.

Though Yu Zhiyuan was also persistent, he was far more flexible than his father, who would follow a single track to the bitter end. Seeing the situation, he immediately halted all planning. Yu Zhiyuan had thought deeply on it. The reason the Taihu bandits hadn't gone all the way and finished them off was simply because he had an elder brother who was a presented scholar, serving as an official in another province. With that consideration in play, they had to show some restraint. Otherwise, given the Taihu bandits' ferocity, they would have long since delivered a warning with severed heads—they'd never have driven everyone off the ships first before setting them alight.

Understanding this reasoning was one thing; whether he could swallow this outrage was another matter entirely.

"…If I were scheming for private gain, harming the state and the people, then I would accept all this as just retribution and bear it. But my heart was clearly set on the public good…"

The more Yu Zhiyuan spoke, the more he ground his teeth in fury. His old steward listened, sighing ceaselessly. Yu Zhiyuan had also been making inquiries all across Jiangnan and Jiangbei. Though the Yu family of Songjiang Prefecture had no ties to the Zhao Camp, among the Yu family's acquaintances, there were some who knew of Zhao Jin's deeds.

After hearing about them and roughly sorting through the information, Yu Zhiyuan could determine that the Zhao Camp's entanglements with the canal transport were not all that deep. Then, learning of all those legendary exploits of Zhao Jin's, he felt that at the very least, it was worth a try.

Though only a few days had passed from hearing about it to making the decision, it couldn't exactly be called clutching at straws in desperation. After all, in this region of the Southern Metropolitan Area, finding someone with enough strength and yet no ties to the canal transport was far too difficult.

"If Squire Zhao can help me accomplish this switch from canal to sea transport, I, Yu, am willing to offer half my family's wealth—that half comes to roughly one hundred fifty thousand taels. And of the vast profit from this switch to sea transport, I am also willing to cede half to Squire Zhao. This great profit—ten million taels a year would be a conservative estimate!" Yu Zhiyuan spoke with absolute conviction. When he finished, he glanced at Wang Zhaojing and Ru Hui.

When that figure was spoken, everyone in the room was shaken. Even though the Zhao Camp raked in riches daily, amassing mountains of gold and seas of silver, the sums "one hundred fifty thousand taels" and "ten million taels is a conservative estimate" were still far too staggering. Zhao Jin's expression remained indifferent. Wang Zhaojing and Ru Hui were filled with shock—the three of them at least knew these figures were likely no exaggeration. The others steadied themselves quickly: Chen Sheng lowered his head as if resting his eyes; Liu Yong frowned and stared over; only Ji Xiang looked full of curiosity, her gaze even rather heated. Shi Manqiang was standing guard back at the camp, so he was spared the shock.

Sweeping his gaze over the expressions of everyone in the room, Yu Zhiyuan continued, "Even if it fails, all expenses the Zhao Camp incurs in this matter will be borne entirely by the Yu family, and doubled in amount as compensation."

The people in the room drew a collective sharp breath. This time, the astonished ones were again Wang Zhaojing and Cao Ruhui. They handled the Zhao Camp's accounts and expenditures daily; they knew just how difficult what Yu Zhiyuan was proposing would be, and thus could estimate how much the Zhao Camp would spend if it got involved. The other party was not only willing to cover it, but even offered to double that amount as payment. Such largesse was simply too staggering—or rather, too divorced from reality.

"Bring a seat for Young Master Yu," Zhao Jin said with a smile.

Thank you, everyone. I've been utterly swamped.