Chapter 702: Gradual Chaos

"No hiding it from Lord Jin — too many people and too much cargo cross the border on my end, I have to keep a tight watch. I had my men mustered and ready to come long ago, it's not that I deliberately delayed." The moment he saw Zhao Jin, Jiang Mutou rushed to explain, flustered and red-faced.

Zhao Jin shook his head with a rueful smile, but that smile only made Jiang Mutou misunderstand further. Jiang Mutou raised his voice a little: "Lord Jin, that Cheng Daqi is a sly one — he kept prying into when everyone else was coming so his own outfit could grab the top spot. But by doing that, he made it look like the rest of us had other intentions. Lord Jin, every one of us is utterly loyal!"

These words left Zhao Jin speechless, but he did not keep Jiang Mutou's men here either. After retaining thirty-five riders, he sent all the rest back.

The arrival of Cheng Daqi and Jiang Mutou seemed to send a signal. Over the next two or three days, group after group came in an endless stream — even Cloud Mountain Temple sent two companies totaling four hundred able-bodied young men.

These men were all local strongmen or bandit chiefs from various parts of Xuzhou — powerful figures permitted by Zhao Jin to retain armed force. They came to He Village and did much the same as Cheng Daqi and Jiang Mutou: thumping their chests and pledging loyalty, swearing they would live and die together with the Zhao Camp.

Toward these small armed bands, the Zhao Camp symbolically kept a few dozen men from each, then sent them back, instructing them not to panic, just to quietly watch and wait.

"They have blades in their hands, but before us they are nothing — we could wipe them out with a flick of the wrist. Even if government troops came, even if those troops defeated us, it would be the same. What they fear most is being suspected by us — that would scatter them like smoke in an instant. That's why they'd rather come here and rebel alongside us; at least that way there's still a chance to gamble on success. Otherwise, nothing at all would be left." Zhao Jin saw it very clearly.

Wang Zhaojing had his own insight as well: "People like these cannot leave Xuzhou. Away from their native soil, they are nothing. The scholars and literati, on the other hand — as long as they hold an official degree, there are far too many places under heaven they can go."

Much the same as these local strongmen were the clerks and runners of the prefecture and the four counties. Though they held government status, they were now bound even more tightly to Zhao Jin and the Zhao Camp. No matter how worried or terrified they were, they could only endure it. As for those eliminated by the Zhao Camp, they knew well how formidable Zhao Jin was. However much they might hope in their hearts, they dared not show it outwardly — at most, they might write a few letters or the like.

As for the court-appointed officials in the yamen, they had resigned themselves to waiting for death. In the current situation, they had not the slightest power to resist. If rebellion came, they had only two paths: join the rebels, or take their own lives. Yet in private they cursed — the imperial agents had come to investigate Zhao Jin's grand conspiracy of treason, yet Zhao Jin and Dong Bingfeng's father still sat securely in the Commandant's post. What kind of investigation was this!

Dong Bingfeng's Third Regiment returned to Xuzhou first. Large-scale mobilization of household troops like this was troublesome coming or going; they could only pose as caravan escorts and rotate back in five separate detachments.

Meanwhile, Shi Manqiang's Second Regiment moved even more slowly. They traveled company by company, with the carting firm's wagons loaded with supplies and grain, advancing north along the canal. They returned a full half-month later than Dong Bingfeng's Third Regiment.

Before these two regiments returned, all manner of supplies had already been allocated and prepared. Centered on He Village, a full forty-plus companies were garrisoned. Counting the archery companies and cavalry companies, the force now approached five thousand men.

In the past, these regiments had been dispersed in different locations, each supplied locally. Now concentrated in one place, the consumption was truly enormous. Even with the Zhao Camp's stockpiles, it was felt to be no easy matter, watching grain and supplies pour in like flowing water.

Zhao Jin's mother, He Cuihua, had been here all along looking after Xu Zhenzhen. She could not be bothered to inquire about outside affairs, but she sorely pitied her daughter-in-law, saying her belly was already this big yet she still busied herself without pause every day.

With so many household troops on constant alert, the weapons they used and the backup stores were also massive in quantity. Over the years, the Zhao Camp had always purchased from the Xu family and always kept stock on hand, but now, for peace of mind, they needed to add still more.

The Xu family, however, seemed somewhat inclined to draw a clear line. Xu Zhenzhen's father and younger brother were not cut out for business, and they fell far short in managing people and affairs as well — as a result, they had been sidelined again.

This left Xu Zhenzhen feeling utterly helpless. In private, she had complained to Zhao Jin, wondering whether the minds of these Xu family members had gone rotten. If Zhao Jin truly was plotting rebellion, then whether he succeeded or failed, she, as his wife's family, could not escape implication. What they should be doing now was giving their full support — yet these people actually wanted to hold him back.

Pregnant women are always sensitive. Xu Zhenzhen even blamed herself, saying that if the Xu family were not her own clan, Zhao Jin could have dealt with them harshly long ago and not been left with so many senseless idiot relatives.

But dealing with them was easy enough. Zhao Jin sent men from the Internal Guard to the Xu household. After they demonstrated their methods just a little, everyone above and below was instantly silenced in terror, not daring the slightest lack of cooperation.

That small fleet of Zhao Jin's on the Yellow River had no idle days either, ferrying large quantities of iron goods and supplies from the north bank to the south bank. Wang Ziyang's large carting team then transported these to He Village and the warehouses at various manors.

From beginning to end, the staunchest of all was this cattle-and-horse merchant Wang Ziyang. He mobilized every one of his shop hands who could ride, placing them under the command of Zhao Jin's cavalry company. He also prepared to take out the gold and silver savings he kept in Xuzhou, ready to contribute them to the Zhao Camp. Every day now, he wrote letters to Shanxi, urging them to send as much support as possible.

Wang Ziyang understood perfectly in his heart: without Han Well Famous Liquor, he was nothing. Without the armed protection of the Zhao Camp, he could not even travel safely in and out of Henan, and the business network he had built in Shanxi would be seized by others.

Was he supposed to go back to those days of driving a few hundred head of livestock to market each year? It is easy to go from frugality to luxury, but hard to go from luxury back to frugality. Wang Ziyang was now a merchant of repute in Shanxi; he truly could not resign himself to returning to his former state.

Commerce in Xuzhou had already gone cold and quiet. Though the farmers and common folk were anxious and fearful, they had nowhere else to go and could only keep tilling their fields. In times like these, nothing else could be done. Even if a great battle was coming here, at least there was no Liao tax — life was still bearable. If they truly left Xuzhou and suffered the exactions of that Liao tax, it would likely be a fate worse than death.

The market and salt fair at He Village had both shut down. Aside from the Zhao Camp's own shops, which still operated, the rest had either closed their doors or fled back to their home villages.

Yet the Great Market at Qingjiang remained open as before. The Zhao Camp's enterprises there had all closed — managers, stewards, shop hands, and the like had all been given three months' wages and told to await word and return to work once it reopened. But the shops of other families continued to operate, and the rules laid down by the Zhao Camp were still obeyed.

"Break the rules and you won't earn any silver — of course they won't disrupt their own footing." Zhao Jin remarked.

After Liu Yong and Zhou Xuezhi returned to Xuzhou, letters still came from Qingjiangpu, saying that the Qingjiangpu Chamber of Commerce had actually taken silver to the Zhao Family martial training hall, asking those men of the rivers and lakes to maintain order and uphold the rules in the Great Market. In addition, the militia guards led by Lu Da and Li He had also been sought out. The Chamber of Commerce put it plainly: these guards had all been prepared for the merchants within the Great Market, and since everyone had paid silver, the militia guards had an obligation to protect the Qingjiang Great Market.

"Men of business don't care about lofty principles — they only care about silver. If the price is right, they'll sell anything." Zhou Xuezhi's assessment was equally caustic.

According to the news sent back from Qingjiangpu, the Great Market there had originally intended to cut the Zhao Camp out entirely — especially after Shi Manqiang left with the Second Regiment.

But the moment Shi Manqiang left, Qingjiangpu descended into chaos. This place had always been where figures of the rivers and lakes and the marketplace came to scrape for gold. Before, with the Zhao Camp stationed here and bloody lessons plain for all to see, no one dared stir or act out of line. But once the Zhao Camp left, everyone felt a huge stretch of territory had opened up — whoever could seize it, it would be theirs.

Brawls, murders, arson — all manner of vicious crimes began to appear. Even inside the once-safe Qingjiang Great Market, thieves and swindlers running setups emerged. They had originally asked the constables and runners of Shanyang County to step in, but after they arrived, the situation only grew worse — they colluded with the criminals instead.

In stark contrast was the perimeter around the Great Market. The properties under the Zhao Camp's name remained perfectly peaceful and secure. The reason was simple: since silver had been paid to the Zhao Camp to do business, the Zhao Camp would take responsibility. Cheng Dahu, Wei Mugen, and Nie Hei were all ruthless characters. They harshly dealt with the first few who dared stick their necks out, and everyone else fell in line afterward.

Seeing this state of affairs, the Qingjiang Chamber of Commerce swiftly changed its approach. As long as their own money-making was not disrupted, who cared about rebellion or not?

In the Qingjiangpu area, so long as the wealthy merchants held this attitude, no one else would raise any objections. Because they acknowledged and supported the power the Zhao Camp had left behind, Qingjiangpu could still maintain peace.

But elsewhere it was different. The entire stretch from Qingjiangpu to Pizhou was now a tangled mess of chaos. Before, everyone had bowed their heads to the Zhao Camp and obediently worked to earn money. Now that the Zhao Camp was gone, naturally everyone wanted to fight for supremacy. This was especially true in Yangzhou, where from the Feng family down to the major salt merchants, all were rebuilding their private armies. They wanted their own turf as well, and the mutual slaughter and strife made life unbearable for the local populace.

Even the local strongmen and gentry, let alone the honest farming households and commoners, found it unendurable. Before, with the Zhao Camp present, there was no need to worry about bandits or turf wars. Now they had to muster their able-bodied young men, ready at all times to fight or stand guard. Every able-bodied man was a laborer. Spending every day drilling with blade and spear, and having to be well-fed at that — it disrupted the farming season and cost a great deal. No one could sustain it.

It was not just the local areas — even the officials were utterly beleaguered. Without the Zhao Camp, it was true they could throw their weight around again, but the cases were far more numerous than before. And with the Zhao Camp as an example, the local hegemons and strongmen below had no regard whatsoever for the authorities. At worst, they would openly muster their forces and fight it out — who was afraid of whom?

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