Chapter 725: The Great Banquet at He Village

In the lands around Xuzhou, Zhao Jin's fearsome name had always carried weight — speak his name and everyone would back down and give face. But before, you always had to add "of Xuzhou" in front of it. Not anymore. Now you just say the name straight. Anyone blind enough to cross him should ask themselves how much stronger they are than the government's elite cavalry.

The border between Shandong and South Zhili was no impassable chasm for the Zhao Character Camp, but the camp's operations had always been restrained. In a sense, the Smelling Incense Sect was also a colossus, and it seeped in everywhere. The slightest lapse in attention, and it would stir up storms and sow disaster in places you least expected. So the Zhao Character Camp and the Smelling Incense Sect maintained an unspoken understanding: neither would expand into the other's territory. Of course, there was no shortage of covert maneuvering on both sides.

But after word spread that Ma Chonghao, the Nanjing Brocade Guard Assistant Commander, was leading a coalition of forces to Xuzhou to arrest the rebel Zhao Jin, the Smelling Incense Sect's covert maneuvers began to multiply. What had once been as discreet as possible now turned brazen.

They spread all kinds of talk — Zhao Jin was a reincarnated demon and the court had sent masters to subdue him; Zhao Jin's killing karma was too great and Maitreya and the Eternal Mother had passed down judgment, so his execution and the extermination of his clan were imminent; a great calamity was about to strike Xuzhou, and anyone who didn't burn incense and pray would be struck by lightning. Incense heads and scripture-spreading agents from every branch poured into Xuzhou and Pi County, stirring up trouble everywhere.

In these places, the Zhao Character Camp simply watched in silence, observing whether the local strongmen would step in to manage things. But in the refugee settlements on the eastern shore of Luoma Lake, there was only one word: kill. There, no imperial law held sway — the Zhao Character Camp's rules were the law.

Once the dust settled, the Zhao Character Camp began settling accounts. In truth, Zhao Jin didn't even need to give the word — every district had already started rounding up Smelling Incense Sect followers on their own initiative. Locals who'd been duped into joining were ordered to repent. As for the incense heads and scripture-spreaders, they were either killed or captured. By the time Zhao Jin's message arrived, there weren't many left. His order was simple: send the prisoners to He Village.

That simple order set off another wave of bloodshed. Every armed faction in Xuzhou and the surrounding regions was uneasy, wondering if they'd done anything wrong in the preceding days. Since Master Jin had given the command, now was the time to put on a good showing — it would at least make up somewhat for the past.

The arrests reached a point of utter recklessness. Everyone knew the Zhao Character Camp didn't do things by halves, so no one dared just grab a few random believers to make up the numbers. They went everywhere hunting incense heads and scripture-spreaders. Xuzhou itself had long been swept clean. If they wanted to arrest anyone, they had to go into Shandong. At first, people were a bit hesitant, but word soon leaked out: go into Shandong and make arrests — Master Jin has your back. That set everything off like a thunderclap.

Though no one dared venture too deep, the four counties near Xuzhou — Yutai, Shan County, Cao County, and Chengwu County — all went up in flames as every armed faction from Xuzhou swept through and seized people without restraint.

The local authorities didn't dare move. Everyone knew that if you struck the small fry, the big one would come out. If they somehow provoked that great beast Zhao Jin to come over, it would be a catastrophe. The officials didn't dare intervene. Even the Brocade Guard and the vice-generals and colonels had scraped together several thousand elite troops and been scared off. Their own territory was impoverished and depleted — what resources did they have to make a move? As for the Smelling Incense Sect, there was no visible response. They simply retreated, pulling back northward without stop.

On the twenty-first day of the eighth month of the forty-eighth year of Wanli — no, it should now be called the first year of Taichang, the twenty-first of the eighth month — He Village resounded with gongs and drums, firecrackers crackled in unison, and everywhere was a scene of jubilation.

Because the emperor had passed away, feasting and entertainment were strictly forbidden throughout the realm. But inside the cities, people just went through the motions. Who outside the walls could enforce it? And here in Xuzhou, who could control He Village? Who could control Zhao Jin?

The open ground used for drilling the household troops was now packed beyond recognition. Carriages and sedan chairs of every kind were parked there — and these weren't cargo or freight wagons, but the conveyances of the rich and powerful from all over. Their drivers and attendants waited there as well, clustered in small groups, chatting quietly. They kept their voices low because the Zhao Character Camp had deliberately assigned a company to watch over the area. With so many people, if a disturbance broke out, someone had to keep it in check.

Inside the Cloud Mountain Inn, which had originally been a carters' lodge, a grand banquet was laid out and guests thronged the hall. Outside the inn, an entire courtyard had been set aside for storing and registering gifts. These wealthy and powerful people from across South Zhili — whether they came to curry favor, to atone for offenses, or for other purposes — each brought lavish gifts. Some even dispensed with all decorum and simply offered pure gold and silver.

Names were announced, registers were signed. No matter what each person felt inside, every face was wreathed in smiles as they greeted one another with warm and courteous enthusiasm. To any outsider watching, each of them was Master Jin's most trusted intimate, here to offer congratulations as one of his own.

Outside the main hall of the Cloud Mountain Inn, a large awning had been erected. Tables and chairs were all arranged, and the aroma of wine and food had already begun wafting from the rear kitchen — it had all the atmosphere of a festival.

Outside the entrance to the awning, there was a very conspicuous spot. Some people walked over and glanced at it curiously. Others stole a look and then dared not look again. A few even wanted to put on a show of righteous courage by shouting curses, or even spitting, but they were all shouted down.

Two men knelt there. One wore a scholar's long gown and a black headscarf. He didn't look particularly dirty, but no matter what, kneeling there left him dusty and disheveled, his face ashen. The other man was even more striking: dressed in a bright red flying-fish robe and wearing a black gauze cap, he knelt there as well.

Most of the wealthy and powerful guests who had come from Yangzhou and Qingjiangpu knew these two men. One was Shi Ping'ao, the trusted advisor and strategist under Lu Quanyou, the Vice Commander of Langshan. The other was Ma Chonghao, the Nanjing Brocade Guard Assistant Commander.

They say fortunes shift — thirty years east of the river, thirty years west. A man's circumstances are truly unpredictable. But now you could say thirty days east of the river, thirty days west. Just a month ago, everyone had been bowing and scraping before these two, smiling obsequiously and discussing how to carve up Zhao Jin's rich holdings in Xuzhou. And now, here they all were, bowing and scraping at Zhao Jin's gate, begging for an audience — and seeing Ma Chonghao and Shi Ping'ao kneeling there. Back then, they'd feared they couldn't get a meeting. Now, they feared anyone knowing they were acquainted.

To make a Brocade Guard Assistant Commander kneel here, to make a Vice Commander's trusted man kneel here, and to put them on public display — this Master Jin's authority was growing greater by the day.

"How old is Master Jin of Wanli?"

"I hear he was born in the twenty-eighth year of Wanli. Looks like the sky over Xuzhou isn't changing — but the sky over the rest of South Zhili just might!"

After witnessing this scene, no one sighed about Zhao Jin wanting to rebel. Instead, they began discussing Zhao Jin's age. After the way things had escalated in recent days, what was left that still needed to be spelled out?

As they talked among themselves, the crowd made their way inside the awning. Some only had the standing to sit beneath the awning. Others were qualified to enter the main hall. Those of even higher status could start calculating whether they might get a seat near the front.

"Better to be killed with one stroke of the blade. I've read the sages' books, served the state — and in the end, to be humiliated like this. I have failed my ancestors. I wish I could die right now and be done with it!" Shi Ping'ao muttered under his breath, his voice kept very low.

"If they wanted us dead, it'd be our heads on display here. Brother Shi, don't be afraid!" Ma Chonghao spoke up beside him. His voice was quite full and steady, though his face was drawn tight.

Shi Ping'ao stared straight ahead at the dirt in front of him and the rows of legs not far away, but his voice was filled with venom as he said, "What difference does it make if they humiliate us enough and then kill us a few days later? If you hadn't had that sudden whim to arrest some rebel, how would I have ended up like this? Without even a single official dispatch, you dared to muster such a massive force and march on Xuzhou — and then you couldn't even pull it off. Now everyone's in trouble."

"And what if I had pulled it off? What a source of wealth that would have been! Public funds, private funds — everything would have run smoothly. I'd have won merit and built a career. Zhao Jin built up such a massive operation in Xuzhou, earned so much silver — it was worth rolling the dice!" Ma Chonghao still clung to his view.

Shi Ping'ao, kneeling there, just gave a few cold laughs and then said, "You just didn't count on provoking a great beast, did you? And I hear that you, Sir Ma, weren't even captured — you turned yourself in? No wonder you sit in high office. This student is ashamed to admit he cannot match your ability to swallow insults with a smile!"

"It was no fault of my generalship, no fault of my generalship. I've been to the border passes, I've inspected the capital garrisons, I've traveled far and wide north and south. Who could have imagined that a backwater like Xuzhou would have troops like these? Heaven willed my downfall — what can I do about it? And speaking of which, you and Old Zhou in Xuzhou were hesitant and timid from the very start. When it came time to act, you still held back. In matters like this, you either go all in, or you tell the truth. Why drag everyone to this ending?"

"Ridiculous. Even if I had spoken up back then, with all of you so giddy at the prospect of getting rich, would you have listened?"

Both men's voices had grown somewhat loud. The household trooper standing guard nearby grew impatient and stamped his foot hard. The two fell silent at once.

After another moment, tears began streaming from Shi Ping'ao's eyes, falling steadily into the dust and leaving tiny wet marks. This weeping irritated Ma Chonghao beside him, who said gruffly, "Show some manhood. Don't carry on like a woman!"

"... All six members of my family are in Tongzhou. This time, with me sent here, even if I die, my family won't meet a good end either. I'm not cold and hard-hearted like you. I pity my child, still in school, being..."

"Stop your wailing! Kneeling here is disgrace enough — are you afraid you haven't lost enough face yet?" Ma Chonghao was growing angry now.

"Life and death are no small matter. When I think of my wife, my children, my parents — how can I not weep?"

"Things aren't as bad as you imagine. What makes you so sure we're on a dead-end path?"

"What? There's a way out? They've put us here to be cursed by a thousand people — we're no better than the kneeling statues at Prince Yue's temple!"

"If they really wanted to kill us, would they have us kneeling here so casually? You think it's easy — kill us in a few days? Why not torment us for a few days first and then kill us? Besides, I'm the chief culprit. I've been kneeling here since I came back and nothing's happened. What are you, a scapegoat, so afraid of?"

At these words, the grieving Shi Ping'ao suddenly froze. He turned his head and stared at Ma Chonghao in disbelief, asking quietly, "Could there really be a way out? After such humiliation?"

The Tongzhou mentioned here refers to Nantong.

Thank you to old friends "Wu Liulang, User Feng Hua, Qi Sanwen, Gu Wuzhao" for your tips, and thank you all for your subscriptions and monthly tickets. I have matters to attend to today and tomorrow, so only one update per day.