Chapter 863: The Envoy for Pacification

The Xuzhou rebels had struck a very fitting posture, giving the court and the authorities a graceful way to back down. Moreover, the grain canal was the most critical matter under heaven — who knew how many officials and gentry made their fortunes off it? Whoever delayed that business, even a powerful magnate or eunuch, could not bear the resulting resentment. And with the capital's grain reserves running low, the charge of stirring public unrest could topple many from power. So the canal had to be restored as quickly as possible, to give an accounting to everyone high and low.

Besides, the Southern Metropolitan Region was the very heartland of the Great Ming, contributing nearly a quarter to a third of the entire realm's taxes, grain, and military provisions. How could such a core territory ever be ravaged by all-out war and laid to waste?

Summing it all up, the conclusion was that there would be no more fighting. Analysis after analysis said the court had all sorts of reservations and would not strike, yet no one mentioned what the Xuzhou Zhao Camp would do. If they wanted to fight, then fight they still would — after all, they held sufficient strength in their hands, and the court could do nothing about it.

Once all sides reached this conclusion, the Xuzhou salt market and general market, long closed, sheepishly reopened. But the men sent by each house were few, and the goods stockpiled were scant; they would rather ship goods in continuously than risk disaster if anything went wrong here. And what they saw in Xuzhou confirmed it — though the Zhao Camp had not raised a banner of rebellion, everyone from top to bottom was on strict alert, an attitude that made it impossible to relax.

The Qingjiang Great Market had already resumed business. For the great merchants not involved in canal grain, the losses from this river closure were minor — or rather, they had suffered no loss at all. By using the Yu family's flat-bottomed sand ships, they had already made up the time lost on the canal via the sea route, and were even slightly faster.

And though everyone said the sea was perilous, the Yu family fleet had made so many trips without incident. Everyone was in high spirits, ready to use sea transport for more trade. Whether the canal reopened mattered less and less; with the river blocked, those small and mid-sized merchants could not ship their goods north anyway, which meant less competition for themselves.

As for those tied to canal grain, between bouts of bitter cursing they could only think of other methods — for instance, buying up as much as possible while grain prices in Qingjiangpu had plummeted, betting that prices would rebound the following year. That would recoup a fair portion of their losses. What infuriated everyone was that Geng Mancang, who had been taken away by the Zhao Camp, had returned with great swagger, buying grain at low prices with outrageous arrogance. Many merchants who had shipped grain here had no other choice but to sell to this Geng Mancang.

Yet everyone knew this Geng Mancang was working for Zhao Jin, so they could only gnash their teeth in fury, powerless to do anything else.

But across both the northern and southern banks of the Southern Metropolitan Region, and even in Shandong and Henan where news of Xuzhou had spread, a similar reaction arose everywhere: powerful and wealthy houses began stockpiling private soldiers. Each believed they had seen the trick of it — that with a force in hand capable of charging and fighting, even the authorities could do nothing to them.

Originally, only the great houses in the villages of Shandong and Henan would build earthen-walled forts and stockades, drilling local militia and village braves to guard against mounted bandits and suppress local unrest. Everywhere else, in peaceful regions, it had seemed unnecessary. But now it was different. A household that originally had only ten or twenty sturdy servants now felt compelled to keep several dozen more. Truly great clans even raised several hundred, secretly spending money to buy weapons and hiring drill instructors to train them, thinking that when the critical moment came, the blade held in one's own hand was still the most useful.

Of course, in the territories Zhao Jin controlled, such activities were strictly forbidden, and everyone had the good sense not to try. Anyone who stirred up trouble like that was simply courting death.

Around the twentieth of the ninth month, two matters spread rapidly from Xuzhou in all directions. The first was that Wang Youshan had returned from the capital to Xuzhou. Wang Zhaoqing, the Third Master of the Zhao Camp, went out from Xuzhou to Yutai in Shandong to receive him. Father and son met and wept in each other's arms. But that was not the crux of the matter. The envoy who had traveled with Wang Youshan from the capital parted ways with him here and rode at full speed toward Fengyang, saying that the pacification had been confirmed, to be handled by Cui Wensheng, the Fengyang Garrison Commander and Canal Grain Superintendent Eunuch. The envoy did not hide this news, nor did Wang Youshan, and word quickly spread throughout the northern bank of the Southern Metropolitan Region. Both the Great Ming court and the Zhao Camp wanted to send a signal: no more fighting; all regions should return to normal as quickly as possible.

The second matter was that Qiao Shan, the Ceremonial Guard Houseman Centurion of the Prince of Lu's estate, had come again. Accompanying him were over a dozen heavily laden wagons carrying nearly twenty thousand taels' worth of valuables. The Prince of Lu's estate was too vast and its holdings too large to produce that much ready silver at once, but its stockpiles of other goods were considerable. Silks, satins, cotton cloth, and various implements — if truly sold at market price, they would likely exceed twenty thousand taels.

Qiao Shan's assigned task was simple: these valuables were compensation for the Zhao Camp. The foolish deeds the Prince of Lu's estate had previously committed were all done in a moment of muddled confusion, and they hoped Lord Wang would not hold it against them. If it proved insufficient, the Prince of Lu's estate would continue to supply more.

Everyone knew the key to this matter was not Wang Youshan, but everyone also knew that some things could not be spoken of openly.

The compensation from the Prince of Lu's estate was accepted, and Centurion Qiao Shan returned to report. Then news from Fengyang gradually spread: Eunuch Cui Wensheng had already prepared to set out for Xuzhou.

Once these two matters spread, the salt market and general market began to flourish. Ships stranded everywhere started bustling with preparations. Once the amnesty was settled and the canal reopened, there would not be much time left this year — everything had to be rushed. And then, everyone confirmed a few more things: for a short while, Xuzhou could remain at peace; no blades would be raised for the time being.

Fengyang Garrison Commander and Canal Grain Superintendent Eunuch Cui Wensheng had indeed shown why he was favored by Wei Zhongxian. Originally implicated in the Red Pill Case and doomed beyond redemption, he had instead landed the fine assignment of being posted out of the capital as a garrison commander. Though everyone high and low said Xuzhou was a dragon's pool and a tiger's den, Cui Wensheng brought only thirty mounted guards and headed straight for Xuzhou. Accompanying him were also men from the capital.

But courage was one thing; the expression on his face along the way was another. According to those who received him, when Cui Wensheng reached the Suzhou border and saw the vast Zhao Camp estates, the local officials and gentry hosting him all trembled with fear at the mere mention of Zhao Jin. Then he saw the Xuzhou militia, who made no effort to hide their presence, subjecting Cui Wensheng's party to rigorous inspection.

"Is this still the territory of the Great Ming? Does the Great Ming's law still hold sway here?" Cui Wensheng had the extra presence of mind not to go directly to He Village. Instead, he stopped first at Xiao County. The officials from the county yamen came to receive him, and inevitably he had to ask about local conditions. In Suzhou they had at least managed a few words; here, they dared not speak at all.

When Cui Wensheng pointedly asked a few questions, the county magistrate leaned close to his ear and said, "Eunuch Cui, the garrison commander of this county is none other than Zhao Jin's father. The lives of everyone in the yamen, high and low, rest in his hands. We must be exceedingly careful!"

This answer left Cui Wensheng stunned. He righteously cursed a few times, then that night chose not to lodge within the city walls, instead staying at the post station outside the city. He did not even remove his clothes to sleep, prepared to mount his horse and flee at a moment's notice if anything happened.

Yet the night passed peacefully. Still, the look on Cui Wensheng's face never brightened. No matter how they schemed, embezzled, or manipulated, they were still part of the Great Ming realm. But Xuzhou's conduct clearly set it apart, as if it stood outside the Great Ming entirely.

By the final years of the Wanli reign, Cui Wensheng was already a eunuch in charge of medicines. Having endured to that seniority, he was a man in his forties. Riding hard on horseback was grueling, but he gritted his teeth and did not delay even half a day, because Cui Wensheng knew that Eunuch Wei Zhongxian was pressing urgently. This was now the most critical matter under heaven. By all court protocol, it should have been Fengyang Governor Guo Shangyou who came to handle it. But the envoy from the capital had made it very clear: Eunuch Wei knew this assignment was a hardship for you, but he could not rest easy letting an outsider handle it. In this world, only those of us from within the palace are truly loyal to the Great Ming. With the matter put in those terms, Eunuch Cui naturally understood how to treat it.

Before arriving at He Village, having seen the Zhao Camp's imposing might and roughly grasped the situation, Eunuch Cui had made ample preparations. The other party was young, had just won a great victory over government troops, and had forced the court to offer pacification — they would surely be insufferably arrogant, making outrageous demands, deliberately humiliating him, refusing to see him, and so on. All of it was highly likely. Cui Wensheng had already steeled himself; this old face of his had been thoroughly lost during the Red Pill Case. One more time would make no difference.

Eunuch Cui had also imagined all sorts of scenes for this bandit lair: plundered goods and valuables piled high, filth and squalor everywhere, abducted virtuous women wailing for rescue, human trafficking conducted openly in the streets, foul stench wafting about. He had actually seen such scenes before — years ago in Shanxi, after a government army had suppressed a rebellion, that was exactly how things looked.

But Cui Wensheng also sensed something was off. From the moment he entered Suzhou to his detour through Xiao County, the entire journey had been clean and orderly. Not only were there no yamen runners blocking roads and setting up checkpoints to extort money, but the common folk seemed to be living in peace and contentment. When he stayed at the post station at night, the station staff had not even closed the courtyard gate. At the time he thought the post station attendants were in league with the bandits, but upon asking, he was told it was left open at night for travelers in urgent need of the road. In Xuzhou territory, no bandit dared cause trouble.

Despite all the urging, they had still closed the main gate that night. The post station attendant had looked thoroughly unconvinced. At the time, Cui Wensheng thought it was just posturing, but now, looking around, it seemed they had not been deceiving him — every word was true.

Fengyang was a key central capital site, with few commoners but many officials and soldiers. Compared to other places, it had an extra measure of solemn tranquility, yet it could not compare to the Xuzhou territory now before his eyes. The streets were clean, the houses neatly arranged, trees and drainage ditches lined the roadsides, and patrols made their rounds at regular intervals.

He had assumed that with Xuzhou under rebel occupation, the people would surely be destitute. But all along the way, the people of Xuzhou seemed happier than those elsewhere, their clothing and appearance more presentable and decent. Eunuch Cui was a man who had seen the world, yet he could not recall ever seeing common folk with such a bearing — perhaps in some corner of the capital, or perhaps not even there.

Eunuch Cui also noticed one more thing: the faces of the Xuzhou commoners bore many smiles. Not the carefree, innocent smiles of children, but smiles worn by adults.

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