Chapter 881: The Short Training Course and Five Pecks of Rice

That said, the merchants truly had a great need for the guarantees provided by Zhao Character Camp, and plenty paid to fly the flag. Yet in private talk, people still saw it as just another way for Zhao Character Camp to squeeze them. Your word, Zhao Jin, carries weight in Xuzhou, Suzhou, Pizhou, Guide Prefecture, Huai'an Prefecture, and a few counties in Shandong, but the moment you step beyond that territory, your word loses its force. But if you don't buy that guarantee flag, trouble might very well find you in those very places. Spending coin to buy peace is better than anything else.

Besides, the Xuzhou people have been fairly restrained in their dealings, granting everyone so many conveniences, and no one's seen much squeezing. The guess now is they're about to make their move, and that's no bad thing — far better than living in constant fear.

By late in the eleventh month, the city of Xuzhou finally began to enjoy the benefits of He Family Village's prosperity. Every inn inside and outside the city walls was packed full. Those with a quick mind started renting out their own dwellings, bringing in a tidy daily income. The wine from the distilleries, which used to be sold entirely out of town, now found plenty of buyers within the city. The blacksmith shops worked without pause from dawn to dusk, forging weapons and armor. Business improved for every kind of shopfront — with so many visitors arriving from outside, how could they not sell more?

In past years, when autumn turned to winter, the city's laborers would all head over to He Family Village to find work, selling their strength for a little extra income. Now, there was work right outside the city gates — leveling the land, using rammed earth, bamboo, and timber to build the arena platforms and the spectator stands.

Houses with spacious courtyards rented especially well, because the martial artists arriving from all over needed a place to train day in and day out. And the inns that catered to the wealthy and high-ranking were in such demand they couldn't keep up. Many people had originally booked rooms for the fifteenth of the twelfth month, but as space grew tighter by the day, they simply rented them out starting right now.

The city's wealthy and noble families had long since moved away to He Family Village or Pizhou to live. Countless mansions and estates sat empty — and now even those were crammed full, occupied by the owners themselves and packed with their kin and friends.

The sudden surge in population left the city's supplies somewhat strained. Fortunately, the nearby Cloud Mountain Temple held ample reserves — it was one of Zhao Character Camp's largest storehouses — and a steady stream of large carts began hauling supplies into the city.

People simply couldn't stay away. Whether martial toughs or guests from every corner, all were brimming with excitement and rapt attention. A contest of heroes, a tournament to seize the champion's crown — everyone had heard such tales countless times in story-singing and opera, but to witness it with their own eyes was a first. And Xuzhou was now a place of peace and safety. In the winter months, the rich and high-born had nothing but idle time. Why not go and watch the spectacle? It would be enough to boast about for a whole year after they returned.

For the martial artists themselves, their fervor was just as intense. Vying for supremacy and winning glory were small matters. If they could make a name for themselves at this tournament, the benefits afterward would surely be boundless. If a wealthy magnate from the Huaiyang region took a liking to them and recruited them as a chief guard, the advantages would be many. If they performed outstandingly and someone was willing to put up the money to open a martial academy in partnership, that would lift them to an even higher level. And if through this they could win an official rank, then they would have truly achieved the great fruit of the path. Any one of these outcomes far outstripped the swagger of throwing their weight around back in their home villages.

He Family Village grew quiet, but Xuzhou became clamorous beyond measure, and trouble multiplied with it. In He Family Village, people at least knew fear; here, they grew somewhat reckless. Yet Zhao the Eleventh's methods were just as ruthless. The constables and runners within Xuzhou city were now nothing but the Xuzhou household troops and militia in different garb, and the outside martial artists were no match for them either.

They had assumed that if the authorities arrested them, there would at least be some room for leniency. Instead, precisely because the Xuzhou household troops and militia now wore the skin of officialdom, their methods grew even bloodier.

For brawling and stirring up trouble in the streets, there was only one outcome: the noose. Many a martial artist only realized what those rows upon rows of wooden frames outside the city walls were for when the rope was already fastened around their necks.

How many wept and wailed that it was unjust, saying it was only a fight, that no blood had been spilled and no life taken. Some even shouted, asking if there was any law left. But no matter how they struggled and screamed, it was useless. They were strung up just the same.

And so the chaos in Xuzhou lasted less than three days. Seeing the swaying corpses on the wooden frames, everyone who passed by felt their heart tremble with dread and dared not stir the slightest trouble again.

From all directions and every walk of life they came. The old-timers of Xuzhou sighed with emotion, saying that back when the Grand Canal still flowed through, Xuzhou had known this very kind of bustling prosperity. It was just that the old folks' eyesight was failing — they failed to notice that these visitors were nothing like the wealthy merchants of those bygone days.

For the long-withered denizens of the city's back alleys and marketplaces, a small interlude occurred during this time. Word had it that Chen Ergou, long thought dead out in the world, had actually returned. Quite a few people saw him there at the Xuzhou city gate, sprawled on the ground, wailing with such heartrending misery that those around him could hardly bear to listen.

This time, Chen Ergou's return was at the behest of Master Yong, who had assigned him to oversee the gambling on the tournament.

Everyone had only seen the glory and the benefits of winning the championship, never considering that when martial artists fight, a victor and a loser must be decided — and that outcome can be wagered on. Chen Ergou had run gambling dens before and understood this trade better than most. Moreover, he was someone Zhao Character Camp could control and still knew the Xuzhou territory fairly well. So they sent him back, partly as a chance to atone for his crimes through service. After all these years of suffering, his debt could be considered paid. Still, Chen Ergou was merely helping to manage things. There were far too many people in the city who could give orders; he only needed to listen and carry them out.

No one had thought of it at first, or at most a few had made private wagers among themselves. But the moment the Black Tiger Gambling House opened the betting pool and let everyone place their bets, the entire Xuzhou region went mad.

Plenty of people had bet on cockfights and dogfights, and wagers were always placed on such things. But how could a fight between roosters or vicious dogs compare to a contest between men? This was far more thrilling. It was said that such games had existed in the underworld before, but those were only rumors or confined to very small circles. How could they compare to this, with so many participants and so many placing bets? Any gambler's blood ran hot just hearing about it. And not just here — the news spread at lightning speed. From Pizhou and Su County to Qingjiangpu and even Yangzhou, north to Jining, west to Guide Prefecture and Kaifeng — wherever the news reached, countless idle rich men rushed toward this place.

Vague rumors had already begun to circulate, saying that Xuzhou was a place without law, and so this arena contest would be a matter of life and death. This drove some people even wilder. Of course, the rumor also fit the standard formula of opera and story-singing: that hosting this tournament was nothing but a sinister plot to net all the realm's heroes in one fell swoop.

The scale of it even startled the people of Zhao Character Camp and Cloud Mountain Trading themselves. They had never imagined it would cause such a sensation. Word had already come from Qingjiangpu that the local magnates there were preparing to run a similar enterprise the following year and were already planning to give Zhao Character Camp a fifty-percent stake — otherwise, they simply couldn't keep the situation under control.

At this juncture, the later it started, the greater the profit. Zhao Character Camp simply announced that the tournament would be moved to the twenty-third of the twelfth month. In any case, those inclined to wager on such an arena contest generally had no interest in spending the New Year quietly at home. Delaying the date would allow people from even farther away to arrive and attract even more wagers.

By now, no one in the Xuzhou territory dared to contradict Zhao Jin. Some even defended Zhao Character Camp, arguing that starting on this day followed the same principle as staging operas to honor the gods — a lively bustle to pray for peace and safety in the coming year.

"People from Qingjiangpu and Yangzhou are bringing their own top household guards, planning to have these skilled men enter the fray. They say some from Kaifeng are even bringing their family retainers."

When this was mentioned, Zhao Jin and his companions all wore dark expressions. Chen Sheng said coldly, "That's treating the martial contest like cockfights and dogfights."

"There's another rumor going around," Liu Yong said with a grin. "They say our brotherhood is certain to be wiped out this time by some great hero or chivalrous champion."

Everyone scoffed at this. It was nothing more than the clichéd formula of the opera stage — there was always some loyal, patriotic youth who would come to fight on the platform and vanquish evil. But they never stopped to think: would a true villain ever risk himself on that platform?

Still, there would be no slackening of the necessary precautions. The newly formed Xuzhou Righteous Braves were deployed precisely for this purpose. Zhao Character Camp would not stop anyone who wished to step onto the platform and compete, but those who did not would stand ready alongside four companies of militia and the city constables, prepared to suppress any disorder at a moment's notice.

The various martial artists most prone to causing trouble had been drawn to the vicinity of Xuzhou city, and He Family Village was finally quiet. Everyone knew Ji Xiang wanted to test his skills, but they also knew he dared not abandon his post. Now he was dropping hints left and right, begging Zhao Jin — if he couldn't go up and fight, he at least had to go and watch.

Meanwhile, Wang Zhaojing spent his days escorting that Scholar Xin around on tours. Aside from the firearms workshop, which was a restricted area, Zhao Character Camp had no need to hide anything else from outsiders. Of course, a scholar would hardly go poking into a distillery for secrets. It was the civilian affairs — the trading firms, the farm estates — that they were led around to observe.

Spending a thousand in gold to buy a horse's bones — one didn't need to be particularly clever to grasp the idea. And indeed, the effect had already appeared. The number of scholars coming to He Family Village began to increase, even though very few held even the title of Licensed Scholar. Most were old, failed candidates with little hope of advancement.

If a Provincial Graduate or Licensed Scholar came here, Zhao Character Camp would not proactively hand them an official post and riches. But if you could read and write and had a basic education, finding a livelihood here was not difficult.

"For five pecks of rice, they've cast aside the Sage's dignity entirely." That was the scornful remark some people made about these scholars.

Not only did outsiders look down on them — even the scholars themselves ground their teeth in frustration. They walked the roads steeped in shame, unable to lift their heads.

If you could read and write, Zhao Character Camp would indeed grant you food and shelter. But before accepting any assignment from Zhao Character Camp, you first had to attend a two-month short training course. The name sounded novel, but on closer inspection, it was merely a variation on the private academy or official school. Yet the content of the study was hard to swallow.

The short training course was divided into several types. One taught the principles of commerce, but it wasn't about learning to get rich — rather, it covered the minutiae of bookkeeping and management. Another type dealt with so-called "practical affairs." The name sounded arcane, but once you studied it, you realized it was nothing more than the sundry duties of a clerk or functionary in a government office: how to collect taxes, how to muster labor, how to levy requisitions, how to adjudicate cases and administer punishment. Then there was agriculture — teaching you how to manage an estate, requiring an understanding of farming and human sentiment, knowing how to carry out a superior's orders and how to lead those below. There were even short training courses held outside Xuzhou. If you came from a coastal region, they would ask if you were willing to learn the principles of maritime trade — and you might even have to board a ship.

Thank you to Qidian friends "A Body of Musty Smell" and "Little Guy 668" for the tips. Thank you all for your subscriptions, monthly tickets, and tips. Thank you, everyone.