Chapter 581

Although it fell short of expectations, a failure was still a failure. The leading figures of Xuzhou Guard smiled and said it was no matter, but privately they blamed one another.

The third month was nearly here, and the matter of Zhao Character Camp's new recruits began to lose its urgency, because the great market around the He Family Estate had entered its finest season. Countless people in Xuzhou earned their fortunes from it, and to them, this was what mattered most.

Since the benefits from Qingjiangpu could no longer be obtained, they could only wait for another chance. Master Jin did not mistreat his own people—that reputation was well established. Though he had been severe this time, they hoped it would not be so in the future.

After that great battle, every faction in Qingjiangpu was cowed by Xuzhou's overwhelming strength. For a time, all fell silent and every head bowed low.

Yet after that battle and the subsequent thunderous suppression, the Xuzhou men and Cloud Mountain Cart Company suddenly became extremely low-key. The carters, carts, and horses of the two original great cart gangs were swiftly absorbed under Cloud Mountain Cart Company. As winter gave way to spring, every business in Qingjiangpu flourished in turn, and the great cart gangs had no shortage of work; operations ran normally.

Still, so many had been mobilized and so much blood spilled back then—was it truly all just for the cart company's business, sizable though that business might be?

There were also rumors that Cloud Mountain Cart Company and Grand Commissioner Lian Ping'an had reached a tacit understanding and begun to edge into the tribute grain trade. That business was far too vast for ordinary people to touch, so they merely listened and watched.

But the sudden quiet made the martial and market circles of Qingjiangpu feel as though the Xuzhou men had simply vanished. Those who remained stayed put at Cloud Mountain Cart Company without stirring, and quite a few even left midway.

No baring of fangs and claws, no show of force—they even seemed to want for nothing. Could it be that the Xuzhou men were running out of momentum? This judgment was not mere wishful thinking. After all, being on one's home turf was one thing; being in a foreign place was another. Men grew homesick, supplies might be failing, or infighting might have broken out in their home base—all of these were possible.

That being the case, they could test the bottom line of these Xuzhou men. Perhaps they would not have to suffer too great a loss this time.

Starting on the twenty-fifth day of the second month, carters from Cloud Mountain Cart Company came calling at every legitimate and shady business and every shop front in Qingjiangpu. The carters spoke very politely: your business is thriving, and each month you surely have many customers and goods coming and going; leave all this passenger and cargo transport business to us.

Some trading firms and goods warehouses indeed had large volumes of freight moving in and out. Aside from the carts and horses they kept themselves, they needed to hire from cart companies and would have given them business anyway—this was nothing special. But restaurants, taverns, and those jewelry and curio shops had no use for large carts. Still, the cart company men spoke very politely: who knows when you might need one? Hire two or a few large carts on a permanent basis, pay a fixed monthly cart fee, and a cart will come whenever you need it—how convenient that would be.

By this point, everyone understood what it meant: it was simply a demand for a regular protection fee. The carters' asking price was not excessive. Small shops, two carts; large shops, five or ten carts. Moreover, this cart fee was not calculated at market rates: a small shop paid less than eight taels a year, and a large shop paid no more than a few dozen taels. And those who truly had business to give them were exempt from this payment altogether.

Respectable families who ran shops and did business all valued harmony and profit. Many had also heard about the great slaughter and killing the Xuzhou men had carried out not long ago. Since the sum was modest, they paid it as required. And anyway, paying was paying—who they paid made no difference. Cloud Mountain Cart Company at least collected with courtesy, far better than those who came to the door with vicious looks and foul attitudes.

Many people wanted to hand over the silver on the spot, but the carters refused, saying that special personnel would come to collect it and would even provide a receipt. Such orderly conduct drew considerable praise.

Apart from these legitimate businesses, the carters also visited the various brothels, gambling dens, low-class whorehouses, and other places where the martial and market folk gathered.

These businesses, of course, had even less use for large carts. Nevertheless, the carters collected fees as usual. The cart-hire payment was not calculated by the cart, but as thirty percent of their annual earnings.

To this demand, some agreed politely, some agreed with a cold sneer, some shut their doors and refused to see them, some simply refused outright, and still others cursed them viciously and even came out to chase and beat them.

The carters did not resort to any brute force. When cursed, they left; when beaten, they ran. The old cart gangs had never been like this. If they were truly bullied, a single shout would bring dozens of men. Such behavior was truly strange. In the martial and market circles, there were shrewd men, but there were also fools. Moreover, at this moment, there were those with ulterior motives who wanted to stir up everyone's spirits, and some began saying that Cloud Mountain Cart Company's backer was finished—otherwise, they would not be so cowardly.

Everyone thought this reasoning made sense. A carters' guild that had once been so tight-knit and fierce was now coming to the door all smiles and courtesy. Considering that so many of those Xuzhou men had withdrawn, something must have gone wrong for them to turn so soft.

Jiangwei Martial Hall was one of these "parties with ulterior motives." A martial hall typically gathered dozens or even over a hundred able-bodied young men who trained in martial arts daily, working as guards for homes and estates or even escorting merchant caravans. A martial hall could generally also legally acquire weapons, making it a force of considerable strength.

On the day the various factions fought fiercely against Zhao Character Camp, Jiangwei Martial Hall's men had suffered almost no losses, because at the time their people had all been dispatched elsewhere and thus did not take part.

By this stroke of chance, Jiangwei Martial Hall's strength was well preserved, and not a single one of its leaders and core cadres was missing. Afterward, they behaved cleverly and obediently, promptly sending men to deliver gifts and kowtow. Zhao Character Camp, for the moment, found it awkward to root them out completely, so they were left in place. Elsewhere, other factions had either suffered devastating losses or were left leaderless. Many people wanted to borrow Jiangwei Martial Hall's strength to stabilize their footing, and some even came to pledge allegiance of their own accord. Jiangwei Martial Hall had never been weak to begin with, and now, elevated by all this support, its ambitions immediately swelled.

In Qingjiangpu, there were many big shots who profited from the martial and market circles. When Zhao Character Camp suddenly reached out and swept away all the profits and benefits in one stroke, many were naturally resentful. But they could not win in an open fight, so they could only maneuver in the shadows. Jiangwei Martial Hall not only received the allegiance of various forces but also had plenty of help behind the scenes.

The Xuzhou men at Cloud Mountain Cart Company grew more and more courteous, while the men of Jiangwei Martial Hall grew more and more aggressive. It was their people who had come to the door cursing viciously and chasing the carters off.

After the carters fled that day, even more people came to curry favor and build connections. Some even formally registered as disciples of the martial hall, declaring arrogantly: "We're not here to do anything in particular—just to learn martial arts. Not even the Heavenly King himself can interfere with that."

Gathering men under the pretext of learning martial arts left the officials with no grounds to object. Besides, the officials had long since been tipped off and would not interfere anyway. This pretext was mainly to deal with those Xuzhou men at Cloud Mountain Cart Company. They said they were not afraid, but deep down, fear still lingered; they had to have some way to fend off trouble.

Three days after cursing the men away, customers truly flocked in like clouds. The martial hall swelled explosively to over two hundred men, and the two nearby streets bustled like a market fair. It was clear that even more would come in the future, because Cloud Mountain Cart Company had shown no reaction at all. Could it be they were truly afraid? This emboldened everyone's courage even further.

On the twenty-seventh day of the second month, before the sky had darkened, Jiangwei Martial Hall's master, Jiang Dacheng, assembled all his disciples in the open ground of the front courtyard. The newcomers stood against the walls, while the others, stripped to the waist, formed ranks and shouted in unison, training with such fiery intensity that their display was awe-inspiring.

Torches and lanterns blazed at all four corners of the courtyard, illuminating the vast space as bright as day. The visitors all clicked their tongues in admiration at these able-bodied young men, and even more gazes turned toward the martial hall master, Jiang Dacheng, who stood at the main door of the central hall watching his disciples perform their martial drills.

Jiang Dacheng was a stout, heavyset man in his early forties, with a full beard that gave him an immensely fierce and imposing look. His skill with spear and staff was said to be a military lineage. Once, while escorting a wealthy merchant north, he had single-handedly beaten down four highwaymen. At this moment, he wore a sapphire-blue robe patterned with coin motifs, his face brimming with triumphant pride.

His purpose was to show these people who had come to curry favor the strength of his establishment. Jiang Dacheng had always looked down on the local martial fraternity. They might have some foundation in martial skill, but they loafed around daily and never trained—how could they possibly defeat those brutes from Xuzhou? But his own disciples trained ceaselessly every day. Every one of them was a tough, hardy man, and they possessed genuine martial skill. As long as they had sufficient numbers, those Xuzhou savages would be no match for them!

As he stood there, he caught the low murmurs of the guests: "... Someone went to ask Master Lian, and he said he won't interfere in this matter..."

"... Are you sure he won't interfere? He might well have arrangements already in place behind the scenes..."

"... Speaking of which, have any of you seen any Xuzhou men these past few days?"

"... I really haven't seen more than a few. Cloud Mountain Cart Company's business goes on as usual, though, coming and going..."

A trace of a smile tugged at the corner of Jiang Dacheng's mouth. It seemed he had bet right this time. As long as he could gain the upper hand, Master Lian would surely draw close to him. Perhaps he was already backing him right now, providing money and manpower.

"... What is that?" someone suddenly asked, puzzled.

"... Are they setting off fireworks..." someone else had also seen it and chimed in.

"What day is it anyway? Setting off fireworks for no reason? Besides..." someone said dismissively.

Jiang Dacheng raised his eyes to look, thinking how utterly absurd. If someone were setting off fireworks, there would surely be a bang first. Could it be a sky lantern...

The sky had already darkened. Standing in the martial hall's courtyard, one could no longer see the lingering sunset glow on the horizon, which made the light in the night sky exceptionally clear. It seemed to be a ball of flame, flying straight toward them.

The conversation was swift, and thoughts turned swiftly as well. That ball of flame flew swiftly too—faster and faster. Amid the din and shouting in the courtyard, Jiang Dacheng heard a whistling sound, the sharp shriek of an arrow tearing through the air.

An arrow? A fire arrow? This was Qingjiangpu, not far from the Grand Canal—this was the heartland. How could someone be shooting arrows here?

Jiang Dacheng recognized it as an arrow, but his mind could not process it. He could not imagine anyone shooting an arrow here, much less shooting one toward this martial hall...

The fire arrow came whistling down. The martial hall's men were in the middle of their drill in the courtyard. One man in the center was caught off guard and the arrow pierced straight through his back. Stripped to the waist, there was no defense to speak of, and shot from such a distance in an arc, it was like an arrow dropped from the sky—even heavy armor would have struggled to stop it.

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