Chapter 871: Placing Bets, Winning and Losing

Some people began searching for a way out, but they could not leave this Qingjiangpu, and the establishment of the Qingjiang Grand Market had only strengthened Qingjiangpu's position as the realm's pivotal hub, making its commercial opportunities boundless. If they themselves left, who knew how many people from all directions would want to rush in and take their place? Right now, the wealthy magnates from every prefecture in Jiangnan were arriving here with large sums of silver, looking for anything they could get their hands on. To leave so rashly—wouldn't that just be giving a bargain to others?

There were also those who saw the advantages of the sea route and wanted to make something of it themselves, but Geli Port was firmly held by the Zhao Camp and the Yu family, precisely guarding the vital passage where the Yellow River meets the sea. No other place could find such a perfect location. Some pondered transporting goods via the Grand Canal to the riverbank, then taking the sea route to various destinations. For going south, this was still justifiable, but for going north, it took several more days than simply following the river downstream from Qingjiangpu, and the costs were considerably higher.

In business, no grievance is greater than the importance of making money. Zhao Jin conducted affairs with rules and his word was reliable; he would never viciously retaliate over a momentary grudge. Staying put was better than stirring up trouble, so many of the great merchants swallowed their pride and remained.

Of course, the Zhao Camp was no merciful bodhisattva either—they would not let you off without consequence after causing trouble. The families of those who had incited the boatmen and laborers to riot in Qingjiangpu were required to send their sons and younger kinsmen to He Village and the Barren Grass Flats to perform labor service. Their expenses at the Qingjiang Grand Market and the Cloud Mountain Carting Service were increased by ten percent, with the situation to be reassessed after one year. No one had anything to say; they could only continue to accept their misfortune.

The Vice Director of the Revenue Ministry's branch bureau in Qingjiangpu had always wanted to retain his post, constantly insisting he was not yet old, and always dyeing his white hair black. After this incident, he cleanly and crisply resigned from office and returned to his hometown. He had already made enough money—why stay here enduring fear and anxiety? Qingjiangpu had originally been a cornucopia of wealth, and now it was an even greater one, but unfortunately, a tiger had barged in to share the feast. Better to keep far away.

As for the Storehouse Commissioner Lian Ping'an, he had long since put down roots in Qingjiangpu. His entire fortune was tied to the tribute grain and its transport. He had suffered a great loss this time and was also harshly rebuked and scolded by Fengyang Governor Guo Shangyou, who accused him of knowing the situation yet failing to report it, and of sitting idly by while the bandits ran rampant. Yet Lian Ping'an's response was not to make an enemy of the Zhao Camp. Instead, he went to the market and spent a large sum to acquire two storefronts, and then purchased farmland and a residence over in He Village.

This time, though he was reprimanded by the officials, he suffered no real loss at Zhao Jin's hands, because after the river was cut off, Lian Ping'an had sold a great deal of the grain in his possession to Geng Mancang at a low price. This could be counted as having built some goodwill, and he had made his own choice.

Everyone made their choices or endured based on their own interests, but there was one reaction they all shared: they all dispatched men northward. Despite the swirling rumors and the reasonable deductions everyone had made, before the matter was settled, there still remained enormous risk. They absolutely had to find out the truth before making their final decision.

The various great merchants of Qingjiangpu and all other interested parties had their backers in the capital, and their sources of information were quite expedient. The only test was whose horses were the fastest.

Of course, doing all this was merely to be absolutely safe. According to the rumors released by the Governor's office, the chances were nine out of ten that the offer of amnesty and recruitment had succeeded. The court did not wish to continue this, and the Xuzhou side had also shown considerable restraint.

After this battle, there were also some changes in Xuzhou different from before. For example, near He Village, the current core area, the large livestock pen that had always been right next to the market was demolished. Preparations for its reconstruction were underway with great fanfare; it was said that part of it would become residential compounds, and part would be incorporated into the market.

In the He Village market and salt market, land was worth its weight in gold, and shop rents rose every year, yet there was still demand but no supply. Aside from those who had bet on the wrong side, no one would ever give up their spot. Those who understood construction had long since mentioned to Ruhui and Zhou Xuezhi many times that the livestock pen behind this large ox-and-horse inn was far too much of an obstruction. On such a core plot of land, how much better would it be to expand the market and the salt market? Even an inn, a tavern, or a restaurant would make a fortune there.

But the Zhao Camp had never agreed to this. This plot of land was the privilege of the cattle and horse merchant Wang Ziyang. He had brought the Zhao Camp so many livestock and manpower; many of the current cavalry and archers were his former employees and people he had purchased from the Mongolian steppes. This exclusive privilege to sell spirits to the north, and this livestock pen so close to the market, were rewards for his loyalty and service.

Yet when the government troops pressed in this time, Wang Ziyang, already immensely wealthy, no longer had the courage to gamble once more as he had in the past. He found an excuse and hid away far off, early on. Since he had made his choice, there was no need to speak further of past ties.

When word spread that new storefronts and residences were available, the wealthy and noble, silver in hand, swarmed in from all directions. Everyone knew the benefits to be had here.

However, Wang Ziyang returned just as quickly. He had said he had a big business deal on the steppes, but judging by how fast he came back, the odds were nine out of ten that he had been staying in Henan. Ever since Wang Ziyang had become rich, he had purchased a very large estate both inside and outside the city of Kaifeng.

Returning with him were one hundred sturdy horses and one hundred young Mongol men and women. Of these, ninety were men, all capable of drawing a bow, shooting arrows, and riding horses. There were ten women, around thirteen or fourteen years of age, with decent looks and figures. It was obvious they had been raised and trained for some time; otherwise, they would not have been so fair-skinned.

Some perceptive people did see through the ruse. The men were one thing—in order to muster enough who could ride and shoot, even thirty-year-olds had been brought along. But to select good women, it was very likely he had bought some Han Chinese girls and dressed them in Mongol robes to make up the numbers.

Nowadays, human lives were cheap; it was horses that were valuable. The cattle and horse dealers at He Village all marveled at Wang Ziyang's one hundred horses. Such quality stock could be taken to the capital and sold without any hesitation.

Such fine horses, such able-bodied people—how could they possibly be assembled on short notice? Any clever person, with a moment's thought, would know these had been prepared long ago. Perhaps they were meant as a gift for someone else, but more likely, they were kept in reserve while he watched which way the wind blew, waiting for Zhao Jin to win this time before returning to hedge his bets and make amends.

After all, the distilleries capable of producing spirits were now all in Xuzhou, and he, Wang Ziyang, held the exclusive franchise to sell to the north. Every year, this brought in a veritable mountain of gold and sea of silver. If he lost it, he truly could not cry hard enough to bring it back.

But this Wang Ziyang, thinking himself clever and adaptable, had forgotten that the reason his family had achieved its current status was precisely because he had always stood firmly at Zhao Jin's side, never betraying him. This time, however, he had wavered.

Outsiders were not particularly surprised by his actions. Back then, he was merely a small-time livestock peddler with nothing to lose, so naturally he dared to place a huge bet. Now, Master Wang was a renowned magnate in Shanxi and on the steppes, having purchased countless estates and fields, taken over twenty concubines—more than ten of them kept right here in Xuzhou—and commanded several hundred servants. With such a fortune, he was naturally reluctant to gamble.

In the past, whenever Wang Ziyang requested an audience with Zhao Jin, as long as it did not coincide with troop drills or council meetings, he would be invited in immediately. But this time, upon his return, his requests for an audience went unanswered.

Although He Village was under strict control, it was still a place with many people and loose tongues. Word soon leaked out that Wang Ziyang had knelt outside the Zhao Camp's barracks begging for an audience, kneeling until the third watch deep into the night without anyone paying him any heed.

After several days of this torment, Wang Ziyang finally met with the ever-smiling Ruhui. Ruhui, with the utmost politeness, laid out the terms: either his exclusive franchise would be revoked, or he would go into business in partnership with the Zhao Camp, with the Zhao Camp taking a fifty percent silent partnership share.

These terms were truly vicious, a merciless chop right across the middle. Wang Ziyang burst into tears on the spot, knocking his forehead against the ground until it bled. Had the household guards not stopped him, he would have directly clung to Ruhui's leg and begged for mercy, ceaselessly recounting his past merits, telling of how many men and horses he had brought to Master Jin.

"Weren't you already preparing to take over five distilleries? Didn't you say that you were so familiar with He Village, and that if you hadn't given Zhao Jin and his men so many cattle and horses, this place would be the number one mule and horse market under heaven?"

Ruhui spoke these few lines with a smile, and Wang Ziyang immediately turned pale with fright. These were words he had spoken to his own attendants; he never imagined the Zhao Camp would have learned of them.

Back when government troops from the north and south were pressing in and the situation was tense, Wang Ziyang, on one hand not wanting to be implicated, had on the other hand made certain arrangements. The root of his fortune lay in the Xuzhou distilleries. He had already selected several locations in Henan and Shanxi. As soon as the Zhao Camp collapsed at He Village, he would come to take over the distillery craftsmen and workers, either setting up shop on the spot or sending them to Henan and Shanxi to open new distilleries, becoming completely independent.

His plans were fine, but he never imagined that heaven would not grant his wish, and moreover, that these words would become known to the Zhao Camp. In that case, there was no need to speak further of past ties.

Crestfallen, Wang Ziyang did not hesitate long before agreeing to concede fifty percent of the profits and enter into partnership with the Zhao Camp. Although the money he earned would be less, he would at least still have the Zhao Camp's protection, and there would still be room to mend and restore the relationship. After all, the exclusive franchise was a source of immense profit. If his franchise were revoked, outsiders would know he no longer had the Zhao Camp's backing, and his current vast fortune would instantly become a piece of fat meat everyone would want to take a bite of.

Every choice and every alignment of allegiance brings joy to some families and sorrow to others. Back when Ma Chonghao rallied various forces to head north, those who had chosen the wrong side all found it impossible to remain in Xuzhou. Of course, compared to those who lost their lives, these people were still fortunate. This vicious struggle of cutting off the river also brought joy to some and sorrow to others.

The Cai family of Qulipu, once so illustrious in Xuzhou, had finally returned from Kaifeng. In the Xuzhou region, the Cai family, by virtue of their Recommended Man status, were already local gentry to begin with. Later, having grown very close to the Zhao Camp, they had reaped all sorts of benefits and amassed wealth with frightening speed. When they left this time, although they took their gold and silver with them, life as strangers in a foreign land was very hard. Both inside and outside the city of Kaifeng, it was a place where wealthy and noble houses clustered; what space was there for a Recommended Man from Xuzhou? Instead, as outsiders, they were seen as fat sheep, and many set their sights on them. They suffered quite a bit, which was why Recommended Man Cai was so anxious to return.

If Cai Huajun had not rendered great merit this time by discovering the cannons, Recommended Man Cai's family line would have had no chance of returning at all. But even after returning, things could not be as they were before. Time had passed and circumstances had changed; everything was different now.

Thank you, everyone. I'm thinking of doing some activities this month or next—please look forward to them. Thank you to all my friends at Chuangshi and Qidian; thank you for your support.