Chapter 606: The Peddler and the Hawker

The crackle of firecrackers could already be heard throughout the city, and the wine shops and meat stalls were bustling with business. If an outsider had suddenly arrived in Shanyang, the seat of Huai'an Prefecture, and seen how the city's residents were acting, they would have thought today was some local festival—why else would so many people be celebrating and laughing with joy?

"Following Big Brother's orders, we dragged that Niu family crew on a tour through the city, then covered quite a few spots here in Qingjiangpu as well. People were cheering from the roadside, some set off firecrackers, others bowed in salute—the officials paid no attention at all." Liu Yong reported to Zhao Jin with a grin.

Shi Manqiang said with some excitement, "Big Brother, that idea of yours was brilliant. We dealt with a bunch of scum, and now everyone in Qingjiangpu, high and low, has grown close to us. Just now several households came by with wine and meat as a reward, saying we've worked hard, that Qingjiangpu has seen it all, and they came to show their regard."

Zhao Jin nodded and said with a slight smile, "This is the hearts of the people."

Those in the Niu family who had committed countless evils had iron hooks driven through their shoulders and were dragged behind horses for several hours. By the time they reached the Zhao Camp, they were a bloody pulp of mangled flesh, not a patch of unbroken skin left on their bodies—dead beyond any doubt. Some had already breathed their last while still in the city, and there were even people who followed all the way to the Zhao Camp just to hurl stones at the corpses.

After that night passed, the next day the bodies were carted to the construction site by the canal. There was open ground there, and plenty of people coming and going. The corpses were piled together, covered with firewood and straw, and burned. With so many eyes watching, no one could claim any bodies had been swapped or anything of the sort.

To rid the people of a scourge—a great scourge that had plagued the region for so long—there was no method more immediate and effective than this. The common folk of Qingjiangpu and Shanyang, the seat of Huai'an Prefecture, saw their impression of the Zhao Camp turn overwhelmingly positive in an instant. These Xuzhou men had come here to deliver justice on our behalf. With so many factions on Qingjiangpu's turf, the officials couldn't be bothered to intervene, the jianghu men couldn't manage it, the gentry dared not interfere, and the common people were powerless—all had allowed such villains to run rampant for so many years. But these Xuzhou men arrived, swiftly and decisively dragged them on a parade through the entire city, swiftly and decisively beheaded and burned them, made those bastards suffer, and put an end to these calamities once and for all.

A force that acted in such a way stood on the same side as everyone else—reliable, trustworthy. When outsiders go to a strange place, they are inevitably rejected by the locals. All that the Zhao Camp had done before had only let them gain a firm footing, but could not be called taking root. This time, however, they had truly taken root and won the hearts and minds of the people.

It was not only the common folk who felt a sense of satisfaction—even the gentry thought the Zhao Camp had handled things beautifully. Niu Shengjie and Guan Tao showed no regard for any rules, relying on the sea lords and pirates backing them to run roughshod over Qingjiangpu without restraint. The common people suffered, and the gentry took plenty of losses as well, their standing and reputation among the populace damaged in the process. Dealing with them like this naturally left everyone delighted.

The public burning of the corpses dispelled the last doubts some people harbored. That very day, people came beating gongs and drums to present a commemorative plaque—goodness knows how they had it made on such short notice. The Zhao Camp was not an official government office, so the phrase "Just, Fair, Incorruptible, and Astute" presumably wouldn't apply. Instead, it read "Guardian of the Region." The ones presenting the plaque were actually two senior licentiates from the prefectural seat of Shanyang—men who were leaders among the gentry. Their appearance signaled the attitude of the common people and society of Qingjiangpu and Shanyang, the seat of Huai'an Prefecture.

By now, everyone regarded the Zhao Camp as their own, and some well-meaning souls offered warnings: the Niu family was backed by a great pirate chieftain of the sea. In the past, a certain household that offended them had been raided in the middle of the night and slaughtered to the last chicken and dog. Master Jin, your enterprise is large and your family great—you must be on your guard above all.

"I am grateful for everyone's concern. At the risk of sounding boastful, Zhao will say this: here in Qingjiangpu, I am safe from all trouble. Vermin like the Niu family are not worth mentioning!" Zhao Jin's reply was very polite, yet the confidence within it bordered on arrogance.

Hearing his answer, the person who had offered the advice grew quite worried. After returning home, he could not help but sigh with feeling—in the end, he was still a young man, rash, careless, and prideful after all. With such a chivalrous and righteous heart, if he were to be harmed by that Niu family crew, wouldn't it be a terrible pity? After all, Niu the Second and Niu the Third were indeed figures of some consequence at sea, and if Qingjiangpu were to face any more calamities in the future, they would still need this Zhao Camp to step forward.

On the third day after the burning of the corpses, a peddler appeared near the Cloud Mountain Martial Hall where Zhao Jin was staying. The peddler carried a shoulder pole loaded with assorted sundries, shaking a rattle-drum with one hand while calling out his street cry. He was dark and swarthy, clearly a man who toiled for a living. Peddlers like this sold needles, thread, toys, and such, roaming the streets and alleys. There were plenty of households near the Cloud Mountain Martial Hall, so the appearance of one was nothing unusual.

However, this peddler, carrying his pole and pretending to be unfamiliar with the roads, meandered this way and that, gradually drawing closer to the Cloud Mountain Martial Hall. When he was still one street away, the peddler sensed something was wrong. By all rights, there were still three streets between here and the Cloud Mountain Martial Hall, with residences and courtyards lining the road. It was noon, the time when people should be coming and going, yet the street was eerily quiet, with only a scattering of idle-looking men sitting or standing about.

It made no sense that upon hearing the sound of the rattle-drum, no women or children came running out. Normally, a peddler in a residential lane was the most ordinary sight, but at this moment, he stood out as jarringly out of place. The peddler took a few more steps, then stopped and turned to leave. The moment he moved, several men who had been sitting and chatting idly at the street corner chuckled and rose to their feet, closing in on him.

At first, the peddler put on an ingratiating smile and tried to slip past with his head down, but he immediately sensed danger. His reaction was not slow—he flung his carrying pole aside, spun around, and bolted. He had only run two steps when a sharp *thwip* sounded. His body jolted violently, a searing pain exploded in his thigh, and he lost his balance at once. He tumbled twice across the ground and crashed down hard. Struggling to look back, he saw an arrow buried deep in his thigh.

"It's not like we couldn't catch you—what are you thrashing around for!" A man on the rooftop cursed down with clear annoyance, while laughter erupted from others perched on the walls.

The peddler, enduring the pain, put on a tearful, aggrieved face and said, "Masters, this humble one is just here to sell goods. What crime have I committed? Why draw a bow and arrow? We should go to the yamen and talk this over properly!"

"So much blather—if your conscience were clean, why did you run?" one of the men snarled, stepping forward to kick and beat him. Before he could act, he was stopped by the man beside him. The one who stopped him reached behind a corner of the wall and, to everyone's surprise, pulled out a podao—a long-hafted saber. The peddler's eyes went wide with shock. How could such a weapon just be stashed by the street wall?

The man with the podao pressed the blade directly against the peddler's neck and said in a gruff voice, "Reckless. Search him first. Too many men have gotten themselves killed at a moment like this."

With a blade pressed to his neck, the man naturally dared not move a muscle. The search immediately turned up items: a short knife hidden against his chest, a dagger strapped to his calf. If anyone had gotten too close and the peddler had struck suddenly, he could easily have taken a hostage or inflicted casualties.

"Gentlemen, this brother is a subordinate of the Niu family's Dragon Head. Let this brother go, and there may still be room to smooth things over. Otherwise, it will be a fight to the death, unending!" The peddler's expression changed, and he spoke coldly.

"Break his hands and feet!" The man holding him at blade-point with the podao paid no heed to the peddler's words and merely gave the order in an icy tone.

A series of sickening *cracks* rang out, and the peddler let out a strangled scream. All four of his limbs were broken, and he was carried off directly into a courtyard.

No one paid any attention to where a single peddler had gone. But the next day, a hawker carrying fruit and another hawker carrying dried fish appeared. The two came from different directions and looked unremarkable enough—dark, thin, and small, clearly hard-laboring men who spent their days toiling under the sun for a living. Yet a careful observer might notice a subtle difference: dark as they were, their darkness was not quite the same as that of the laborers along Qingjiangpu's canal. It seemed even darker somehow...

"I could smell the stink of the sea on you from eight hundred li away—who do you think you're fooling!"

When the two men were still two streets away from the Cloud Mountain Martial Hall, they found themselves blocked in the middle of the road. At both ends of the street stood several ill-intentioned, burly men, already holding blades and axes. The one in the lead sneered with biting sarcasm.

"What are you gentlemen talking about?" The fruit hawker exchanged a furtive glance with his companion, then asked with feigned bewilderment.

"I'm saying it won't be easy for you to die a quick death. The one yesterday didn't talk either—he only just breathed his last a moment ago. Let's see if you two can be that tough!" One of the men gave a vicious grin and strode forward, podao in hand.

At this point, there was no more point in pretending. The two hawkers moved quickly. One pulled a three-foot-wide blade straight out of a bamboo basket—on the foreign ships, space was tight, and close combat was fought with these somewhat shorter swords. The dried-fish seller grabbed his shoulder pole; one end was fitted with an iron spike, making it look like a short spear. With a shout, he too charged forward to meet them.

When they were still about ten paces apart, a man darted out from behind, let out a thunderous roar, and hurled a short axe that spun through the air with a shriek. The dried-fish hawker was caught completely off guard—the axe bit deep into his shoulder, sending him toppling backward. The other hawker was horrified, but before he could react, the man with the podao had already closed the distance. A flash of the blade, and the hawker's sword-arm was severed clean off. Before he could even cry out in pain, a club smashed into his forehead.

Both "hawkers" collapsed to the ground. The men swarmed forward, bound them tightly, gave their wounds a crude bandaging, and hauled them off into the courtyard.

"One died of his wounds. The other talked. He says the Niu family's fleet is anchored at Clam Harbor near Miaowan Town. Their family also has shops here in Qingjiangpu for fencing stolen goods and resupplying. That peddler yesterday and these two were all sent out by that shop. As for whether the Niu family will send more people, we haven't gotten that out of him yet," Liu Yong reported.

The outer perimeter of Zhao Jin's base was watched over entirely by the jianghu men of the Inner Guard, and the interrogations were also left to them. They were all experts at shadowing and infiltration. The Niu family's men thought they were being stealthy, but in reality their cover was full of holes, and they were easily captured.

Unlike other places, where extra manpower was only assigned when trouble arose, everything here at the Zhao Camp operated according to established procedures. Every man had his assigned area and duty; as long as they carried them out diligently, no mistakes would occur.

Thanks to old friend "Yuan Heng Li Zhen" for the reward, and thank you all for your subscriptions and monthly tickets.