Chapter 720: The Return Journey

The He Family Village market and salt market, neglected for barely a few days, reopened, and everyone scrambled over each other to come back. Those salt merchants, no matter what conditions Zhao Jin put forward, agreed to everything without a single word of haggling, falling over themselves to curry favor with Master Jin. Money was a small matter; their lives were the big matter. Having offended Zhao Jin, just thinking back on it afterward left them drenched in cold sweat.

Amid all this chaos and clamor, no one paid any more attention to the movements of Ma Chonghao and his group. Why bother with the likes of them? They were the ones who had plunged everyone into danger; whether they lived or died was no longer anyone else's concern.

Ma Chonghao's party of six had taken less than a day to travel from the estate west of Xuzhou City to Pizhou, but the journey from Pizhou to Qingjiangpu took them a full seven days.

To avoid drawing attention and to cover their tracks as much as possible, they changed into civilian clothes and even abandoned their horses. In this region, galloping at full speed made one far too easy to mark.

Ma Chonghao and his group wore bamboo hats and carried packs on their backs, looking no different from ordinary traveling merchants. They didn't even seem to be in a particular hurry, and just like that, they entered the territory of Qingjiangpu.

Gathering news in Qingjiangpu was very easy. Sure enough, just as Ma Chonghao had predicted earlier, the several groups who had come here before them, intending to withdraw silver from its place of deposit, ended up in a standoff with the large force assembled by the merchant guild. In the end, they could only slink away in defeat, having gained nothing at all.

It was said the scene had been quite grand at the time. The so-called Grand Market guards had already drawn their blades, and the wagons from the large carting company had clogged the surrounding roads so tightly that not even a drop of water could seep through, making it impossible for the cavalry to charge. It looked as if a bloody clash was ready to erupt at any moment. Even more absurdly, Garrison Commander Qin of Shanyang had also arrived with his troops, declaring that their duty was to protect the region and keep the people safe. If anyone dared rob law-abiding citizens in broad daylight, they would have to ask whether their blades agreed or not.

The merchant guild had rallied nearly four thousand men, while Xu Tiebiao's cavalry plus the cavalry of the Wolf Mountain Vice General amounted to just over a thousand at most. Moreover, the two sides were not of one mind. The salt merchants' two hundred-odd men had long since fled back to Yangzhou. The Wolf Mountain forces and the Shanyang Garrison were on the same side to begin with, so there was simply no counting on them. On top of that, these government troops were also preoccupied with how to deal with Zhao Jin next, so they had even less heart for a fight. It was no surprise they had slunk away in defeat.

Although this was within Ma Chonghao's expectations, it was nothing to be happy about, because the money still wouldn't fall into their hands. It could only end up lining the pockets of the guild leaders and the Shanyang Garrison Commander.

There was no time to dwell on these disheartening matters. Ma Chonghao's party of six transferred directly onto a civilian boat at Qingjiangpu and took it all the way to Nanjing. This was the most convenient route. Traveling by horse would have meant the hassle of getting the horses onto a boat at the riverbank, and it would have been far too conspicuous.

Qingjiangpu was a key node for canal transport. Civilian boats heading north ended their journeys here and had to turn back. The boats departing from Qingjiangpu for Jiangnan and the settlements along the waterways numbered in the thousands, and the people boarding them also numbered in the thousands. Mingling among them, they were certain to go unnoticed.

After they boarded, the boat had yet to fill with passengers and would have to wait a while before departing. Ma Liu had wanted to spend silver to charter the entire boat, but Ma Chonghao stopped him. In the current situation, they could not do anything that might draw attention. They had to be extremely cautious.

More passengers arrived one after another. One was a monk, tall and powerfully built, very conspicuous. He spoke with a Henan accent and claimed to be on his way to Fujian to register at a temple there. His background was clear enough; he was likely from the Shaolin Temple at Mount Song, heading to its sister temple in Quanzhou. Another person who drew notice was a young scholar, dressed in plain cloth and a green robe. Though handsome and refined, he did not look like he came from a wealthy or aristocratic family. He had a capital accent and said he was going to Nanjing to visit friends and pursue his studies.

As strangers brought together by chance, they inevitably exchanged a few words of small talk. But their acquaintance was shallow, and none of them were first-time travelers, so after a few sentences, they all fell silent.

The boat set sail, heading south all the way. The river had risen after the rains, and the boat traveled smoothly over the water. Everyone remained silent throughout the journey, stopping and starting just like that.

When they passed Yangzhou, the boat needed to cross the river and replenish some food and water. Some passengers disembarked, and new ones came aboard. They would be delayed here for a day. The boatman informed the passengers that they could go ashore and look around, as long as they returned before departure. Ma Chonghao led his men ashore, inquired about the latest news, and then returned to the boat.

Only after asking around did they learn that a major event was currently unfolding in Yangzhou City. The Feng family, originally the foremost house in Yangzhou, had suffered continuous misfortune these past few years. Burglars had struck in the night, and the family heads of two generations had died suddenly. Now, the current family head, Feng Jinde, had also fallen gravely ill and, unable to hold on these last two days, had passed away as well. His grand funeral was underway. Yet what made the people of Yangzhou curse and spit was that the succeeding family head was not at home observing mourning. Instead, he had taken men and gone off to some place called Xuzhou, saying he was going to offer congratulations to some local tyrant there. Truly, he had no conscience at all.

Upon hearing this news, Ma Chonghao and Ma Liu were speechless. They had met Feng Jinde north of the river. It was true he was somewhat advanced in years, but his constitution had been robust. He could hold his own in drinking and womanizing. How could he have died so suddenly? It wouldn't be strange to say an old man's health carried risks, but combined with the fact that his successor was rushing toward Xuzhou, what was there left not to understand?

"A complete loss across the board..." Ma Chonghao sighed dejectedly. However, he had grown somewhat accustomed to this string of disappointments lately, so he quickly rallied his spirits and returned early to the boat to rest.

Although no one on the boat recognized them and they should have been safe by now, with their lives at stake, Ma Chonghao and his men remained extremely cautious. The six of them split into two shifts inside the cabin, one sleeping while the other kept watch, maintaining vigilance at all times. Moreover, they never removed their outer garments when sleeping, and their weapons never left their hands.

Crossing the river overnight, Ma Chonghao gazed at the riverbank not far away, his expression dark and gloomy. The emotions in his heart had sunk to their lowest point.

Nearly a year of painstaking planning, setting out at the end of the sixth month, spending a month away—he had thought success was certain, yet never imagined such an outcome.

How radiant and spirited he had been at the very beginning? How proud and full of vigor on the journey? Now, recalling those scenes, Ma Chonghao felt almost as if a lifetime had passed.

If he could have seized all the wealth and properties of the Zhao Character Camp, he would have had substantial capital. Then he could have returned to the capital and used that enormous sum to pave his way. Whether with the powerful eunuchs of the inner palace or the Donglin partisans, he could have forged connections. They would surely have valued his network within the Embroidered Uniform Guard, his skill in handling official business, and his financial power. They would absolutely have trusted and relied on him.

When that time came, he could have ridden that momentum upward, accomplishing great deeds one after another, unfolding his ambitions, achieving merit, seeking wealth and rank, and making a great name for himself.

But now, all had come to nothing. Every scheme had flowed away like water. He no longer had the standing to even dream of future meteoric success. He was not even sure if he could hold onto his current position.

What was more, even though nearly half a month had passed, what he had witnessed while observing the formation that day remained crystal clear, as if it had happened only moments ago. Ma Chonghao remembered with absolute clarity that when the formation had assembled, his courage had already failed him. When he saw them standing immovable in the rain, his spirit had been utterly broken.

How could such troops exist under heaven? How could the Great Ming possess such a force? And these were not even government troops; they did not belong to the imperial court.

The instant he saw that unit, Ma Chonghao's heart had turned to ashes. He felt everything he had done was meaningless. With the Zhao Character Camp in existence, what would it matter if he could return to the capital? What would it matter if he could cozy up to the powerful eunuchs or connect with the Donglin faction? Could they defeat troops like these? If they could not win, then no merit could be achieved, no wealth or rank could be sought. With this Zhao Character Camp in the world, everything was emptiness! Ah, all was finished!

"Master, we're about to reach the dock!" Ma Liu said from behind. His tone carried a sense of profound relief. North of the river, they had been constantly on edge, as if in enemy territory. Now that they had reached Nanjing, surely all would be safe and worry-free.

Ma Chonghao, Assistant Commander of the Nanjing Embroidered Uniform Guard, nodded and said through gritted teeth, "Once we're back, we must take a few heads. Otherwise, those blind fools will surely try to overturn heaven."

Having failed in this Xuzhou affair, not to mention the Duke and other nobles of merit, even within the Nanjing Embroidered Uniform Guard, trouble was bound to erupt. Therefore, Ma Chonghao had already prepared thunderous measures while still on the boat. Aside from stabilizing his position, he would conveniently use them to vent the pent-up fury in his chest.

Just as he was lost in reverie, imagining how he would deal with those scoundrels, the boat suddenly lurched. Then the boatman shouted—the vessel had already pulled up alongside the ferry dock.

Because it was early morning, there were not many people on the dock. So when Ma Chonghao's party disembarked, they all stretched and yawned, their entire bodies slumping with relaxation, as if sighing with the feeling of seeing daylight again and being reborn into the world.

They had been tense and on guard for half a month on the road, in constant fear of being trapped north of the river. After all that time in suspense, they had finally returned to their own turf. No matter how far Zhao Jin's reach extended, could he possibly stretch his hand all the way here?

The other passengers also disembarked. The tall monk from Henan stepped off the boat, pressed his palms together in thanks to the boatman. The young scholar in the green robe disembarked with a smile, looking around curiously. Nearby, another small boat came ashore, but only two sturdy men disembarked from it, and they did not stray far from their vessel. The monk and the scholar glanced at that boat without leaving a trace, then walked toward Ma Chonghao.

At that very moment, cries of alarm rang out on the dock, and there was a flurry of panic among the boats along the shore. A large boat was seen bearing down on the dock, seemingly without any proper seamanship, causing everyone to scramble out of the way.

With a muffled "Thud," the ship's side struck the stone edge of the dock. Those with sharp eyes could see the hull planks had already cracked. A gangplank was hurriedly lowered from the boat, and a man, frantic with urgency, began leading a horse down it. This man was actually wearing a flying-fish robe—he was an agent of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. No wonder he had acted so recklessly and without restraint on the road.

Looking closely, the horse he was leading was drenched in sweat, and foam frothed from its mouth and nostrils with every breath. Anyone with knowledge of horses could tell the animal was on the verge of total exhaustion; with any more abuse, it would soon drop dead.

But that frantic agent paid no heed to any of this. He led the horse off the boat, then lashed it fiercely with his riding crop, spurring the mount forward. This caused the crowd that had just disembarked onto the dock to hurriedly dodge out of the way.

The horse, however, simply could not hold on any longer. After running a dozen or so steps, it let out a mournful whinny and collapsed directly onto the ground, convulsing and foaming at the mouth. It was clearly beyond saving. The agent, as if he had no time to spare for this, did not even bother to brush the dust from his clothes. He threw away his riding crop, scrambled to his feet, and made as if to run toward the city walls of Nanjing.

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