Chapter 778: The Prince of Lu

"Everyone, go about your duties. Ruhui, accompany me for a walk through the salt market. We open in the second month, so I need to say a few hellos." Zhao Jin put on his overcoat and said with a smile.

The group rose to their feet. Right beside the council hall was Wang Zhaojing's study, which also served as his office. The others dispersed, and Wang Zhaojing, brow furrowed, entered his study alone. He spread out paper, took up a brush, and drew a circle, then sketched several smaller circles around it. To the north, he labeled one 'Duke Yansheng's Kong Manor and the Prince of Lu's Estate'; to the south, he marked 'Fengyang Eunuch'; to the west, he noted 'Prince of Zhou'; and to the south, he simply wrote the two characters 'Nanjing'. After finishing, Wang Zhaojing let out a long breath and muttered to himself, "Sooner or later, we were bound to clash. And now, we already have."

The Zhao Character Camp had risen from Xuzhou, using the prefectural city as a center to expand step by step into the Southern Metropolitan Region: Xuzhou city itself, the entirety of Xuzhou territory, Pi County, Qingjiangpu, the whole of Huai'an Prefecture, and Guide Prefecture to the west. Now, they had even stretched a hand into Yangzhou Prefecture.

All these places shared one common trait — none had any true local despots or deeply rooted major powers. The most troublesome were merely the wealthy merchants of Qingjiangpu and a few salt merchants in Yangzhou. But these moneyed men were rootless duckweed, relying on nothing more than financial might and the power money could buy. When they ran into an elite force like the Zhao Character Camp, they crumbled at a single blow.

Expanding outward step by step like this, they were now beginning to brush against and collide with those colossal entities. Great and small princedoms held vast estates and industries everywhere. Though the princes themselves never left their cities, their subordinate officials and followers had coalesced into the greatest local hegemons — possessing land, manpower, the backing of the local government and the imperial court, and the deep-rooted influence of over a century of local operation. To contend with such major powers was not merely to contend with a single princely estate; one also had to be wary of the imperial court standing behind them.

But there was no avoiding it. The Zhao Character Camp's sphere of influence was steadily expanding outward. To the north lay Shandong's Duke Yansheng's Kong Manor and the Prince of Lu's Estate. To the west lay the Prince of Zhou in Kaifeng Prefecture. To the south lay the Garrison Eunuch of Fengyang and the imperial estates and official lands of the Central Capital, Fengyang. And if one cast their gaze further still, there were the Jiangnan magnates south of the Yangtze and the Nanjing nobility of merit.

In a sense, these colossal powers 'encircled' the Zhao Character Camp. As long as the camp kept expanding outward, it would come into contact with them, would clash with them. The camp's growing power meant their own influence and financial resources would shrink. This was a matter of fundamental interest, impossible to settle amicably. Seen in this light, the conflict in the four Shandong counties with the Prince of Lu's estate was no accident — it was an inevitability.

Wang Zhaojing wrote and sketched on that paper, a habit he had inherited from his father, Wang Youshan: whenever he was deep in thought, he would always write things down.

"Go and call in the manager of the Cloud Mountain Trading caravan," Wang Zhaojing set down his brush and called out to the outside.

The Cloud Mountain Trading company had many lines of business, sticking a hand into any venture that could turn a profit. Yet one of them actually lost money: the traveling merchants who roamed from place to place. They carried goods from Xuzhou and the Southern Metropolitan Region around to peddle, never making much money on any single trip, and in some places, Cloud Mountain Trading even had to subsidize them. Yet the operation was maintained, because it served as a vital channel for Wang Zhaojing and Ruhui to gather intelligence from the outside.

The Xuzhou salt market was no bazaar; it did not bustle with noise every day. Its liveliest periods of the year were spaced apart. The second month was the busiest month at the Xuzhou salt market, because that was when everyone set prices and sales quotas. The entire year's trading and expenditures had to be settled within that month. In the days that followed, countless large carts and the salt boats on the Yellow River would set out, delivering the agreed-upon salt to every destination.

Among these, Kaifeng Prefecture in Henan, the eastern region of Henan Prefecture, Ru Prefecture, as well as Huaiqing Prefecture, Weihui Prefecture, and Zhangde Prefecture north of the Yellow River, were all major buyers of salt. The same was true for Daming Prefecture in the Northern Metropolitan Region and the Yanzhou Prefecture area in Shandong.

Never mind the other places — the salt trade in Henan's Kaifeng Prefecture, whether official salt or smuggled salt, was in reality entirely the industry of the Prince of Zhou's household. His family's salt warehouses and salt shops did a booming business, and their presence was not limited to Kaifeng Prefecture but spread throughout several other parts of Henan as well. In the past, they had always dealt with the Yangzhou salt merchants, but now they procured their goods here at the Xuzhou salt market.

Here at the Xuzhou salt market, they didn't have to worry about getting gouged on the price and could save a considerable amount on transport costs. There was an added benefit: the men of the Zhao Character Camp could guarantee the safety of the salt convoys. No clueless forces, whether from the underworld or the establishment, would dare harass them. And once the goods entered Kaifeng Prefecture, no one would dare lay a finger on the Prince of Zhou's estate's cargo anyway.

Hearing the name 'salt market,' many people assumed the place must reek of pickled vegetables and salted fish. Visiting in winter might be tolerable, but in summer, it would surely be a stinking mess. Yet this salt market was in fact the cleanest and most elegant spot in all of Xuzhou's marketplaces. The salt merchants had enjoyed wealth for generations, and those trafficking in large quantities of smuggled salt were also men of substantial means — naturally, they saw to it that things were done with a certain decorum.

No single salt shop kept much salt on the premises — at most, a few porcelain jars, merely to allow customers to inspect the salt's quality. The storefronts of the salt shops in the market more closely resembled teahouses, and exquisitely and elegantly appointed ones at that. Everyone simply sat inside, drinking tea and discussing business, entirely at ease.

Whenever the Prince of Zhou's estate came to purchase salt, they always dealt exclusively with the Feng Family Salt Warehouse. The Feng Family Salt Warehouse offered the fairest prices and could procure the largest quantities of salt. More crucially, the Feng Family Salt Warehouse was now Zhao Jin's property. The men from the Prince of Zhou's estate didn't think much of some Zhao Jin from Xuzhou, but being able to deal with a major underworld boss whose word carried weight was, after all, more reassuring than dealing with others.

"Tell me, this Zhao Jin, so young, yet he lives such a dull life. He's got so many money-making ventures in his hands, but his own household lives so austerely. What's he after?" Two tables of men sat in the front hall of the Feng Family Salt Warehouse, drinking tea and eating snacks, looking quite leisurely.

"Maybe the folks around Xuzhou are so scarred by poverty that they don't dare spend recklessly even when they've come into money. I hear he's only got one wife and one concubine right now. If I had that much silver, I'd buy an estate in Jiangnan and get myself a dozen or so pretty maids to wait on me..."

"Brother, I'm remembering those words. Just wait till I tell the missus."

"No, no, no..."

The cheerful chat in the room immediately erupted into laughter and teasing. These men were all purchasing agents for the Prince of Zhou's salt shop. Holding positions where they could spend money, they were men with connections and backing within the princely estate, living quite relaxed and carefree lives. They had just concluded their business with the men from the Feng Family Salt Warehouse when Zhao Jin happened to arrive on an inspection tour. The warehouse's managing steward went out to greet him. Since everyone was familiar with each other, they were simply left to their own devices.

The speaker stopped after that one sentence. The man who had been teased thought the other had gotten angry and hurriedly rose to explain himself, but then he saw the man he called 'Brother' pointing across the street, his face full of scorn. "Look at those fellows — from the Prince of Lu's household."

The weather was no longer very cold, and the main doors of the salt warehouse were left wide open, giving a clear view of whatever was across the street. They could see several men dressed in a similar fashion sitting on the opposite side. Whether or not they had spotted the Prince of Zhou's men over here was unclear.

"Those ungrateful bastards. They used to be less than dogs in front of us brothers, and now they think they're somebody."

"By the old rules, they're supposed to get their goods from us. How dare they come running to Xuzhou on their own? I'm going over there to set them straight."

"Sit back down! The Prince of Lu's household is the current Son of Heaven's own uncle. How many generations removed is our branch? If this really blows up, we won't have the upper hand, and the estate will probably blame us for it."

"I just can't stand the sight of it."

The man who wanted to go over and make trouble was grabbed by his companions and sat back down, fuming. The Prince of Lu had been enfeoffed during the Wanli reign; he was the Wanli Emperor's own younger brother, deeply cherished by both Empress Dowager Li and the Wanli Emperor. His power and influence were naturally overwhelming. When he first arrived at his fief in Weihui, not only did he bring a vast sum of silver from the capital, but upon reaching Henan, he was also granted large tracts of land and all manner of special privileges.

Originally, the salt trade in Henan was a source of revenue for the Prince of Zhou and several other first-rank princes, with the Prince of Zhou's estate taking the lead and the others cooperating and sharing in the profits. But when the Prince of Lu's estate came to its fief, the salt trade in the three prefectures of Huaiqing, Weihui, and Zhangde north of the Yellow River was handed over to the Prince of Lu's estate, which even used it as a base to smuggle salt into Shanxi. Later, after the Succession Struggle, when the Prince of Fu was enfeoffed in Luoyang, he carved out another huge chunk of the salt trade. Yet the first Prince of Lu was the Wanli Emperor's younger brother, and the first Prince of Fu was the Wanli Emperor's son — both closely tied to the current Tianqi Emperor. The Prince of Zhou's line, on the other hand, had been passed down since the founding emperor's time. Naturally, closeness of kinship made all the difference. They couldn't win that fight, so they could only hold their noses and endure it.

The subordinate officials and servants of each princely estate were, naturally, tied to the estate's interests. Since the men from the Prince of Zhou's household were now skimming less profit, they naturally found the men from the Prince of Lu's household an eyesore.

Since the two groups faced each other across the street, you could see me, and I could see you. The three men from the Prince of Lu's estate had also spotted the Prince of Zhou's group across the way. Their faces all bore expressions of disdain, and one of them even sneered, "What are they flaunting their seniority for? If it weren't for our prince's benevolence, we'd have taken our business straight into Kaifeng Prefecture."

The others all laughed along. An older, more seasoned man among them picked up a crab-roe broad bean, tossed it into his mouth, crunched it up, and washed it down with tea. Only then did he say leisurely, "Don't underestimate the Prince of Zhou. His line has been in Henan for two hundred years, with branches flourishing everywhere. We can't afford to offend them."

This man seemed to carry some authority. After he spoke, the others fell silent. He drank another cup of tea and continued in a slow, unhurried tone, "Don't always be thinking about picking fights with the Prince of Zhou's estate. The Prince of Fu, the Prince of Tang, the Prince of Yi — we can't afford to offend any of them. We're just underlings doing a job down here. Don't go sticking your necks out over grudges between the masters."

Everyone felt deflated but could find no argument. They just chuckled wryly, each turning back to their snacks and tea. In the midst of this awkward silence, they heard a commotion outside. The salt warehouse steward, who had been waiting by the door, hurried down the steps, bowing and smiling obsequiously in greeting. They saw a young man, smiling as he greeted the steward, followed by several sturdy, capable-looking fellows.

"Tsk, tsk, so that's Zhao Jin. The kid's got a huge enterprise. A mere local thug, yet he might just be richer than our own prince!"

"Just a pauper from a military background, that's all. With all that money, he doesn't even know how to spend it. They say his household's comforts can't even compare to those of a servant under our estate's Administrator. All that silver of his — who knows who he's earning it for."

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