Chapter 627: The Journey North

Willing or not, this was the only way to handle it. Everyone who came to negotiate was on edge, and Zhao Jin's crisp refusal left them with no other choice. Now at least a solution had been offered, and it wasn't unusable — plus, everyone handling the transactions stood to benefit. That was enough.

Zhao Jin stayed here two days. On the return trip, several dozen young refugees followed him — the most outstanding among the local refugees. These elite individuals would be assigned to work in Xuzhou and Qingjiangpu. Wherever refugees were garrisoned, their best would be swiftly drawn out and brought into the Zhao Battalion system to serve, never allowed to develop locally on their own.

Swapping coal for straw, paying for the coal with salt — simple in theory, simple in practice. They said dried straw was easy to control the fire with, while coal was hard to manage, but that was just a matter of a few more trials. Paying for coal with salt: salt might be valuable elsewhere, but along the Haizhou line, it was as common as dirt, available everywhere.

The real trouble lay in transport and distribution. Large quantities of coal could follow the Yellow River downstream from Xuzhou, then come ashore at Luoma Lake and travel onward by land.

But Zhao Jin couldn't be bothered with these details. Naturally, the managers and stewards under Xu Zhenzhen would go and negotiate. Jingshan produced both coal and iron; their own iron and steel smelting couldn't possibly use it all, so finding an outlet was just right. As for He Village, there were two small coal mines nearby, but they barely had enough for their own use — selling outside was out of the question.

After returning home, Zhao Jin had sold off the Xu family's coal. The news quickly spread through all the surrounding villages. Many in Xuzhou joked that when the Zhao and Xu families had joined by marriage, everyone assumed the Zhao family would be the ones benefiting from the Xu family. Looking at it now, the Xu family's great success was all thanks to this fine son-in-law.

Ever since the Zhao Battalion had opened up routes in all directions, the Xu family's ironware could flow freely to every corner, free from the extortion of local checkpoints. Now that an outlet for the coal had been found as well, the Xu family had indeed grown considerably more prosperous.

On New Year's Eve of the forty-sixth year of Wanli, and the Spring Festival of the forty-seventh year, Xuzhou was not as jubilant as in years past. A somber mood hung in the air. The court had, after all, suffered a great defeat in Liaodong and was now mobilizing troops from across the realm. Word of additional levies had spread everywhere, and the common people of Xuzhou had grown tense and oppressed.

The method devised by Clerk Liu of the prefectural office was indeed effective. Only by making everyone afraid and fearful first could they then be made to feel gratitude. Otherwise, everything would simply be taken for granted.

What Zhao Jin and his companions found interesting was that the gentry and commoners did not feel the Zhao Battalion ought to handle this matter or push it aside. They felt that the court's laws and the Son of Heaven's decrees were separate matters from Zhao Jin. The duties and obligations owed to the Zhao Battalion were one thing; those owed to the court were the same.

"... In Xuzhou, we are the greatest, so they must obey us. In all under Heaven, the Great Ming is the greatest, so they must also obey..."

Nor was anyone awed by the achievements of Zhao Jin and the Zhao Battalion. In the latter half of the twelfth month, He Village was thronged with visitors, yet hardly anyone discussed it. In everyone's mind, it was all only natural. Zhao the Headman, Zhao the Heavenly King — with such great ability, he was bound to command such a grand display.

Amid their envy, people also said other things. They said, look, Master Jin's position is so grand, yet his work is grueling. He had to leave home on the second day of the new year, with only a dozen riders at his side. Who knew if he was headed to Henan, Shandong, Suzhou, Pizhou, or Qingjiangpu? With so many affairs, how could he ever finish?

When it came to Zhao Jin, the talk was full of praise. When it came to Wang Zhaojing, it turned strange. They spoke of a scholar's seed spending his days on a warrior's dirty work — a man destined for the top examination laurels, yet mixed up with street toughs. Having blood on your hands and a life on your conscience was all well and good, but wasn't dipping a brush in ink to seek official rank a golden, shining road?

Everyone said that going to the capital for the examinations was the great event of a scholar's life. Some went half a year early, even a full year early. But this young master Wang did things differently — he only set out on horseback on the fourth day of the new year, and brought six Zhao Battalion guards with him. Was he going to sit for the exams, or to fight someone? It made no sense to anyone.

Everything seemed perfectly normal. Those who had to go out and work went out and worked. Those who had to go take the exams went and took them. No one paid it any mind. Even if someone went looking and found him absent from Suzhou, well, he was surely at one of the other places. If he wasn't at Kong Village, Guide Prefecture, Pizhou, or Qingjiangpu, then he might be on the road back. There was no reason for him to be absent from every single place, and even less reason for anyone to go check every single place.

So no one knew that after Wang Zhaojing and Zhao Jin had met up near Pei County, they had already set out on the road to the capital.

In the first month, rich and poor alike celebrated the new year. Even the strongholds of the forest outlaws and the camps of the mounted bandits observed the new year. The road was bound to be desolate and quiet. But nothing in this world is absolute. The mounted bandits, refugees, and all manner of demons and monsters in the outlaw world across Shandong might just come out to ply their trade in the first month after all.

Traveling from Xuzhou to the capital, the land route essentially followed the two banks of the Grand Canal. Although the canal was frozen solid at this time of year, its banks were still the best and richest part of Shandong, and everything remained fairly intact. Other areas had yet to recover from the famine.

Zhao Jin, Wang Zhaojing, and their cavalry escort numbered twenty-six men in total, with forty horses — both riding horses and packhorses — more than enough. Their supplies were complete, to say nothing of the gold, silver, and weapons. Aside from the oddity of traveling in the first month, everything else looked impressive. To an outsider, this was a young master of a great house on a journey, magnificent in style.

At this time of year, most inns were closed. Places to stop were usually found only in bustling market towns and prefectural or county seats. They were prepared for this; the Zhao Battalion had ample experience camping in the wilderness.

In truth, the real concern for this party was not forest bandits. Aside from Zhao Jin and Wang Zhaojing, the other twenty-odd men were all handpicked — skilled with bow and horse, fierce in martial prowess, and superbly equipped. If they met with a sudden attack, against ordinary rabble, their twenty-odd men could simply sweep them away. If they faced a large, powerful enemy, they could outrun them if they couldn't outfight them. The real trouble was the authorities.

Nearly thirty riders, all young men, and with such an imposing air — they were easily stopped and inspected by government runners. Once the weapons they carried were discovered, even if they claimed they were for self-defense, the other side would have grounds for extortion. If the runners saw gold, silver, and valuables, they might even collude with others to attack and rob them in the chaos.

Ultimately, when it came to merchants from other regions, government runners always acted with a certain recklessness. Even holding an official degree or title wouldn't give them pause. Bury a man, or tie a rock to him and toss him into the water — who would ever know where he was?

But Wang Zhaojing's father, Wang Youshan, had been very thorough in his considerations for them. He had actually secured the visiting cards of the private secretary to Shandong Governor Li Changgeng and the Right Assistant Administration Commissioner of the Shandong Provincial Administration Commission. With these two cards, as long as a matter reached the prefectural court, they would at least be shown some face. Given the capabilities of the runners throughout Shandong, trying to secretly harm Zhao Jin's party was simply impossible.

When Wang Youshan had asked for the cards, everyone had found it odd. Thousands of provincial graduates traveled to the capital for the exams each session, and they all just went as they were. Even if they carried name cards, they were for building connections once they reached the capital. The journey from Xuzhou to the capital wasn't particularly dangerous — why make such a fuss over nothing? But it was no great matter, so after a few laughs, the cards were given.

What no one could have imagined was that Wang Youshan had been so meticulous not for his own son, but for Zhao Jin, who was traveling with him.

Zhao Jin now carried far too much weight. A long journey like this had to be made absolutely secure.

In fact, they encountered no trouble along the way. They entered Shandong territory from Yutai County, then headed straight for Jining Prefecture, and from Jining Prefecture on to Dongping Prefecture — this was the route that followed the Grand Canal northward. And it was this stretch through Yanzhou Prefecture that made Zhao Jin and his men most cautious, for this area was the very heartland of the Smelling Incense Sect. From the sect's headquarters in Yuncheng County, a fast horse could reach any point on this stretch in no more than two days.

Zhao Jin and his men were extremely vigilant. They would not even spend the night in the cities or in villages along the way, instead paying heavily to replenish grain and fodder before camping in the wilderness, terrified of being ambushed by Smelling Incense Sect followers. But the journey passed without incident, which only proved that whatever Eternal Mother or Buddha they worshipped, they too had to celebrate the new year in the first month.

"... This is different from our South Zhili. Traveling along the canal in South Zhili, once you enter Pizhou and continue south — not even speaking of the Jiangnan region — the entire stretch from Pizhou to Yangzhou is bustling everywhere, thick with people. But here in Shandong, Jining Prefecture might be no less than Qingjiangpu, yet everywhere else is desolate and barren, like a land of ghosts..."

This was Wang Zhaojing's lament. When he had traveled south by boat years ago, he had been young and oblivious to everything. Now, he had the mind to pay attention to the people's livelihood.

Only Jining Prefecture, a canal hub, was prosperous and wealthy — even exceeding what a canal transport node city ought to be. Other places looked just like the undeveloped grassy marshlands of before: collapsed courtyard walls and houses, white bones visible everywhere among the withered grass. It was truly a vision of hell.

The reason was easy enough to discuss. When the drought and locust plagues struck, refugees rose up everywhere, and chaos reigned. Among the gentry, landlords, and wealthy folk, some failed to escape in time and saw their families ruined and destroyed. Others moved away early to take refuge. With silver in their pockets, any place could be paradise. The best place in Yanzhou Prefecture — or rather, the best place in all of Shandong — was precisely this Jining Prefecture.

The wealthy congregated in Jining Prefecture, making the prosperous even more prosperous and the desolate even more desolate. It was a logical outcome.

They ran into some trouble when passing through the Anmin Mountain area. This place wasn't far from Liangshan Market — the very region spoken of in the Water Margin tales. The terrain here was relatively complex, and there really were people who forwent the new year to come out and rob. But these men were nothing before Zhao Jin and his party. They simply spurred their horses and charged through, and the bandits immediately scattered and fled. However, Zhao Jin and Wang Zhaojing did not just let them scatter. They gave chase on horseback, cutting down seven or eight before returning.

When dealing with bandits like these, if you didn't kill them thoroughly enough to instill absolute terror, there would surely be further trouble. Better to use overwhelming force to shock and awe them at once, to avoid being entangled.

Upon entering Dongchang Prefecture, the scenery along the road changed again. Within thirty li of the border with Yanzhou Prefecture, it looked no different. But beyond that distance, everything became much more orderly. It wasn't that Dongchang Prefecture was particularly prosperous or wealthy, but that things here looked more normal — like a place that had never suffered disaster.

Thanks to the old friend "Yuan Heng Li Zhen" for the tip. Thank you all for your subscriptions and monthly tickets. Now sitting before my own computer, things should be stable from here on, right? Asking for monthly tickets!