Chapter 612: First, to Shandong

The officials from the Ministry of War and those seasoned in military affairs estimated that, at the current pace of troop and supply mobilization, it would be impossible to march beyond the passes before the twelfth month this year. Even if a major battle were to occur, it would likely have to wait until next year.

The Mid-Autumn Festival had just passed. This time, not many people were present to hear Wang Zhaojing read the letter — only Ji Xiang, Dong Bingfeng, and Lei Cai. Chen Sheng had already led a team to the new refugee stockade in Pizhou, and Liu Yong had returned to Qingjiangpu.

After hearing all this, everyone's expressions remained heavy, but they were not as tense as at the beginning. Having heard too much bad news, and this being bad news from a thousand li away with no direct stake in it, even the most sensitive person would grow numb.

"…My father said he once thought that with the Great Ming's population exceeding a hundred million, raising an army of a million or even ten million would be no trouble. Only after talking extensively with those old hands in the Ministry of War did he realize how incredibly difficult it is just to muster a hundred thousand troops. This time, it can be said they are straining every last resource. On the Jianzhou Jurchens' side, throwing everything they have into it, their forces are also around eighty thousand. This campaign can truly be called an all-or-nothing war for the dynasty…" Wang Zhaojing shared a few reflections after finishing the reading.

Zhao Jin listened very attentively. Wang Zhaojing glanced at Zhao Jin's expression and asked, "Brother, who do you think will win this time?"

"The Great Ming will lose. The Jurchens will win." Zhao Jin gave his answer without much hesitation. He could not recall the details, but he knew the Great Ming kept losing, all the way until the dynasty's fall.

No one expected Zhao Jin to answer so bluntly and decisively. Over all these years, everyone knew Zhao Jin was steady in his actions and never spoke recklessly. Whenever he made a judgment, he either kept silent or, if he spoke, was never wrong. To give such a simple, curt conclusion on a matter of this magnitude today left everyone utterly stunned.

"Brother…" Wang Zhaojing couldn't help but speak, yet once he started, he didn't know what to ask. Zhao Jin coughed once and waved his hand. "Just wait and see. When the time comes, the outcome will be clear."

A judgment like that couldn't really be explained; they could only let the topic drop.

Hearing Zhao Jin's words, Wang Zhaojing smiled, and everyone tactfully refrained from bringing it up again. Zhao Jin nodded at Lei Cai, who understood and stood up, saying, "Brother, Zheng Quan is waiting outside. Shall I bring him in now?"

Once permission was granted, Zheng Quan was brought in shortly after. Zheng Quan now looked the part of a prosperous gentry, his complexion quite healthy. However, standing before Zhao Jin, a young man much younger than himself, Zheng Quan remained extremely nervous and deferential.

"... Master Jin, in Pei County and Feng County right now, our own incense heads and branch leaders can no longer hold their ground. People from the Yuncheng main altar are moving in in force..."

Originally, Zhao Jin had managed Xuzhou so tightly that not even a drop of water could seep through. Even the Incense-Smelling Sect, so adept at infiltration, had been unable to gain a foothold. Against such sects, the Zhao Battalion used the method of fighting fire with fire. He had already brought the Xuzhou branch of the Incense-Smelling Sect firmly under his control, making it an independent entity that outsiders naturally could not interfere with.

But this past May, the situation suddenly changed. In Feng County and Pei County, north of the Yellow River, nearly all the incense heads loyal to the Zhao Battalion had been effectively sidelined. The rank and file below were obeying in public and defying in private. At first, no one noticed anything amiss; it was only later that they realized something was wrong. Yet the offerings from the congregation below kept coming without missing a single coin, so many people didn't think there was any problem at all. It was only later, when only two or three people showed up for their own incense-burning and scripture-recitation sessions, that many began to sense trouble.

One isolated report meant nothing, and Zheng Quan paid it no mind. He knew Zhao Jin didn't want the Xuzhou Incense-Smelling Sect to flourish; letting it slacken and disperse was for the best. But when reports came in from several places, it was clearly not right. How could there be such a coincidence in this world? Besides, many of these followers weren't in it for gods or buddhas. They had been together for a long time, helping each other out — it was even just a habit. How could they all, in such uniform fashion, suddenly stop believing?

The cause was easy to uncover. Others had come to preach, even proactively offering favors and benefits. Once there was a comparison, of course people were lured away.

Zheng Quan and the men from the Internal Guard team with him put their heads together and sent spies to infiltrate. News soon came back: those people claimed to be the true and orthodox path, sent by the sect leader at the main altar to rectify the faith here and prevent everyone from falling into heresy and deviant ways. They even spouted nonsense that the earthquake in Shanxi and the military disaster in Liaodong were divine retribution upon Zhao Jin, and that this monster Zhao Jin would soon be struck dead by heavenly thunder, and so on.

"…A thorough investigation shows that over a dozen manors and stockades in Feng County and Pei County are involved. There are even gentry households with xiucai degree-holders among them. Those scripture-preaching masters of the Incense-Smelling Sect are under their protection, and they've gathered quite a number of people. The various Xuzhou militia units have also reported back, saying people are often seen sneaking around, keeping watch…"

"…A village has been established in the area between Shan County and Yutai County in Shandong. Commoners and refugees fleeing famine from all over Shandong are being directly gathered into that village. Those wealthy households harboring the Incense-Smelling Sect send their sons and younger kin there to stand guard, and they also buy people there as slaves…"

After Zheng Quan finished speaking, Lei Cai added his own unhurried supplement.

"Those bastards! Back then, if Brother hadn't led us in those life-and-death battles, they would have long since been ruined and their families destroyed by the roving bandits. Do they not know that those bandits were stirred up by the Incense-Smelling Sect? And now they actually collude with them, and even want to move against us!" As soon as Lei Cai finished, Ji Xiang stood up in fury.

Ji Xiang was not the only one enraged. Wang Zhaojing's expression was also grim as he said darkly, "The height of stupidity, the height of audacity. Do these ungrateful wretches not know what they are doing?"

"Brother, we must teach them a lesson. We've been far too good to them!" Dong Bingfeng's voice also carried a spark of anger.

Zhao Jin gave a cold laugh and stood up. "They won't think we've been good to them, nor will they feel we've done them any kindness. Do you know why they want to bring in the Incense-Smelling Sect?"

Without waiting for anyone to answer, Zhao Jin continued, "It's because after we took Qingjiangpu, we didn't share any of the spoils with them. So now, all the past is forgotten. They only feel we've wronged them, and so they think there's no need to submit to our Zhao Battalion's rule. They want to bring in the Incense-Smelling Sect to stir up some trouble. Some of them are probably even muttering about 'driving the tiger to devour the wolf' or 'when two tigers fight, the third profits.'"

Zhao Jin's vivid depiction only fueled his companions' anger further. Ji Xiang was so furious he laughed, smacking his right fist into his left palm. With a cold sneer, he said, "Brother, since they don't know what's good for them, let me take some men there and make them understand who calls the shots in Xuzhou now!"

"Why should the Zhao Battalion step in openly? Do we want outsiders saying we can't protect our territory and pacify the people, and instead bring disaster upon our own fellow villagers?" Zhao Jin waved his hand, rejecting Ji Xiang's proposal. Everyone was taken aback.

A smile tugged at the corner of Zhao Jin's mouth as he said leisurely, "Have Cloud Mountain Temple file a complaint with the authorities. Then have the prefectural office send men to make arrests. Anyone implicated in this — confiscate their entire household. People, land, property — everything is to be seized and auctioned off. If the constables and runners at the yamen are short-handed, have the Xuzhou militia assist. As for that village over in Shandong, Daxiang and I will make a trip there. This time, we'll only bring one company. The rest will be handled by the trainee squad!"

The Mid-Autumn Festival had just passed when Feng County and Pei County, north of Xuzhou, were thrown into an uproar. Constables from the district magistrate's yamen, leading a large contingent of "runners," came directly to arrest major criminals. There were those harboring cult followers, and those with seditious intent plotting rebellion — every case had irrefutable evidence. The Great Ming court was always particularly vigilant about cases involving religious sects. Moreover, since Xuzhou had once been besieged by refugees, there was every justification to handle sect-related matters with the utmost severity.

Even without these reasons, once Zhao Jin gave the word, the penal office would treat it as a case of the highest priority. Framing someone out of thin air was possible, let alone when there was indeed solid testimony and material evidence.

The wealthy and powerful households implicated had never imagined such a day would come. Some considered fighting back with force, but how could they withstand the ferocious Xuzhou militia? Others tried to deny the charges and offer bribes, but how would the clerks and constables dare let them off? The men sent by the Zhao Battalion were watching closely. Besides, in this round of confiscations and auctions, although the Zhao Battalion was the sole final buyer, the profits from the sales were shared by everyone. Letting someone off would mean everyone's cut was gone — naturally, that could not be allowed.

The newly rebuilt incense cells of the Incense-Smelling Sect were once again thoroughly wiped out. The Zhao Battalion very generously posted bounties: informants and those capturing sect followers would receive rewards of varying amounts. This immediately mobilized the previously indifferent common folk, and even the few fish that had slipped through the net were caught this way.

Some people, through a series of convoluted connections, managed to reach Zhao Jin. Zhao Jin did not show himself. Wang Zhaojing's reply was polite but firm: this matter was an official case handled by the authorities and had nothing to do with the Zhao Battalion. The Zhao Battalion had done nothing to wrong anyone, nor did they understand why these people had resorted to such petty maneuvers.

At that point, any intelligent person knew there was no room for pleading. Moreover, men of the jianghu affiliated with the Zhao Battalion had let word slip: this time, Master Jin was merciful and used the official runners. Next time anyone was so blind, the Zhao Battalion would act directly. This time, only the ringleaders would be severely sentenced. If the Zhao Battalion had to come out next time, everyone surely still remembered the fate of He Weiyuan.

While chaos reigned across Xuzhou and everyone trembled with fear, Zhao Jin had already led his team out of the Southern Metropolitan Region and into Shandong territory.

A total of four hundred men took part in this operation: one company of the personal guard, two hundred and fifty men from the trainee squad, and fifty from the Xuzhou militia. No one rode horses. Each man carried three days' worth of rations and dry provisions on his back. They set out at first light, halted after daybreak, resumed marching at dusk, and stopped to make camp after nightfall.

Setting out from He Family Village, they first reached the banks of the Yellow River, crossed on boats of the Cai family fleet, and then headed north. Guides had long been waiting on the northern bank. When passing the Xu family of Jing Mountain, as arranged, the Xu family had prepared supplies and equipment for Zhao Jin's men and also sent guides to lead the way.

These four hundred men drew little attention, crossing the border into Shandong just like that. No one was foolish enough to provoke them along the way. However, the journey itself was quite demanding. Zhao Jin and Ji Xiang lectured constantly: what to do when making camp at night, how to set up posted and concealed sentries, how to delineate zones, how to observe retreat routes and cover, what to pay attention to during the march, to drink boiled water whenever possible — the bamboo tubes they carried were specifically for holding boiled water — and if resupply was truly impossible, to drink from running water, never stagnant.

Thanks to the two old friends "Yuan Heng Li Zhen" and "123*" for the tips, and thank you all for your subscriptions and monthly tickets. Got up late today.