Chapter 952: The Reason

Chased like this, the refugees in front grew exhausted while those behind still had strength to spare. The government soldiers watched their own cavalry vanish into the distance, unable to keep running themselves. Their stamina drained away, and their will collapsed with it. They knelt on the ground, sprawled on the ground, weeping and kowtowing, begging for mercy — or they would rather have a quick end than keep fleeing like this.

Corpses littered the ground, blood flowed across the fields. In this battle, the refugees won a great victory and the government army suffered a crushing defeat. At this moment, the outcome was utterly decided!

During the battle, both sides were locked on each other. With such a massive target before their eyes, it was hard to notice anything else. In the manor behind the refugee formation, the watchtowers and arrow towers were packed with people.

Xu Hongju and Xia Zhongjin stood on the foremost watchtower, watching the dust-choked battlefield of pursuit and slaughter. Both of their faces were flushed with excitement, their features twisted by the intensity of their joy.

"We've won! We've won! Our four thousand men fought over five thousand government troops and won a victory like this — this is a great victory!"

"The Hierarch is divinely mighty and brilliantly wise! The Hierarch is divinely mighty and brilliantly wise! Without his venerable self's divine calculations, how could we have won such a great victory today!"

"Back when Big Brother took in those who fled back, what did we say? Thinking back now, our brains must have been broken. How could people like us ever grasp Big Brother's deep foresight... whatever it's called."

Xu Hongju and Xia Zhongjin spoke as they laughed. Xu Hongju stumbled over his words but didn't care in the slightest. He simply slammed his hand on the railing of the watchtower and said in a rough, excited voice, "What's so great about Zhao Jin of Xuzhou? We suffered a big loss last time only because we didn't know his secret methods for training troops. Now we know, and we've trained fine soldiers just the same. Give it a while, and we'll train ten thousand — no, a hundred thousand — and march on Xuzhou to sweep them away completely!"

"Second Master speaks truly. That Zhao family's household militia beat the government troops like dogs. If we train a hundred thousand, won't we sweep across the whole realm!" Xia Zhongjin was also brimming with heroic ambition.

Within the Smelling Incense Sect, everyone knew Xia Zhongjin was a steady, seasoned man — calm in the face of trouble, composed in his responses, rarely losing his composure. But Xia Zhongjin had seen with his own eyes the outcome on this battlefield. He had seen how the government army's formation collapsed when those five square formations pressed forward, and what a thoroughly exhilarating victory now covered this battlefield!

"Old Xia, you've earned great merit too. Every arrangement you made this time caught those government curs off guard. If not for making them freeze up time and again, we might not have won so greatly. This time, Old Xia, you take the highest merit!" Xu Hongju said with a laugh, raising his thumb toward Xia Zhongjin.

Xia Zhongjin cupped his fists in thanks, his face beaming with delight, and said, "Then many thanks for Second Master's auspicious words!"

At this point, Xia Zhongjin instinctively lowered his voice and said, "Second Master, with this victory, the Hierarch will ascend the throne and proclaim himself emperor. When that happens, the position of Grand Marshal of the Army will be yours, Second Master."

"Big Brother says the name isn't proper and the words aren't smooth. When our territory grows larger and we govern more people, we'll need proper titles before they'll submit wholeheartedly. Old Xia, whatever my big brother decides, we listen. Don't gossip behind his back." Though his words were stern, Xu Hongju's face had already split into a grin. As he spoke, he couldn't hold back any longer and clapped Xia Zhongjin heavily on the shoulder. "Old Xia, when I become Grand Marshal, you'll be Great General. When my big brother becomes emperor, the good days for us old brothers will be here!"

"Second Master, Master Xia, the fighting outside is so fierce — let us little ones go out and bask in the glory too!" someone below shouted.

Xu Hongju and Xia Zhongjin looked down and saw it was their own trusted guards. They had each brought over two hundred elite men on this trip — all desperate martial artists who had followed them for a long time and were fed, clothed, and paid.

Precisely because they had followed so long, they spoke freely. By now, the battlefield outside had been reduced to the simplest pursuit. Going out meant reaping merit. But when the government troops had pressed forward, no one knew whether the newly trained soldiers could hold. If they couldn't win, these elite guards they'd brought were meant to escort Xu Hongju and Xia Zhongjin to safety.

During the most perilous moments of the battle, the leaders of the elite guards had watched from the heights of the manor, boasting and bragging, saying things like: what do those miserable wretches know of slaughter? Out there they're just lambs waiting to be butchered. If it comes to real combat with the government troops, we'll have to go out and fight for our lives.

They talked, but no one actually wanted to go out. They only said that if not for having to guard the two masters, they would have routed the government troops in a great defeat today.

When the government cavalry began their charge, when the government archers began their volleys, these elite guards inside the manor fell utterly silent. They didn't even dare boast anymore, afraid that if they talked too big they'd be singled out and sent forth. With the government troops looking so ferocious, who dared show their face?

When the square formations appeared, advancing step by step, pressing forward against the government arrows, shouting slogans all the while, this bunch of elites kept up a steady stream of veiled mockery, saying things like: if marching to your death counts as being able to fight, then everyone under heaven could go into battle and kill the enemy — even women would count.

Some of the more seasoned and trusted ones even went to advise Xu Hongju and Xia Zhongjin, saying the situation was dire, that once it collapsed there'd be no way to salvage it, and that the two masters should leave now!

No one had expected such a great victory. Those poor wretches who spent every day just drilling in formation, advancing and retreating to the beat of drums, forbidden to run or jump, standing dumbly in the ranks not knowing how to move, not even understanding how to power a horse stance, knowing only how to thrust forward with their long spears — they had actually driven off the government troops like this?

Though the elite guards around Xu Hongju and Xia Zhongjin were arrogant, they knew their own limits. Watching the battlefield from afar, even though the details were unclear, they knew they themselves would gain no advantage on that battlefield. Perhaps they might look impressive at the start, but in the end, only two paths awaited: death or flight. More likely, when the cavalry charged, they'd simply be trampled into mincemeat.

But after a great victory, charging out onto the battlefield meant not only cutting down government soldiers to reap merit, but also scouring the field for plunder. They didn't want to miss out on such a fine opportunity.

"You little bastards, can't hold back anymore, can you? All of you, get out there! Go have your fun!" Hearing his subordinates' pleas, Xu Hongju cursed with a laugh.

Given permission, a roar of assent rose from below. They mounted up, formed ranks, and burst through the manor gates in a swarm.

After those elite guards had departed, Xia Zhongjin couldn't help but quietly remonstrate, "Second Master, this bunch of ours has grown spoiled. Letting them loose like this, they're sure to steal from others. When our own people clash and word reaches the Hierarch, it won't be good!"

Xu Hongju waved his hand dismissively, a bit impatiently. "Even if their appetites have grown, they're still our own people's appetites. The lads always remember to pay their respects upward. Those who came back from Xuzhou all strut around like they're somebody, putting on stern faces all day, forgetting the rules of rank. They don't even know to show deference and smile in front of us. Even if those men are useful, we still have to guard against them. Who knows what kind of bewitching brew Zhao Jin poured into them — every one of them's lost his head. Now that these battalions are trained and we know the secret methods of drilling troops, we need to use our own people. That's the only way to be at ease!"

After hearing Xu Hongju out, Xia Zhongjin opened his mouth but in the end made no sound. He simply said, "Second Master, for a victory this great, we should send word of the good news to the Hierarch!"

"Send what word? My big brother's divine abilities reach far and wide. With a great victory here, would he not know?" Xu Hongju said cheerfully. His attention was wholly absorbed by the battlefield; this kind of crushing, overwhelming pursuit filled him with immense satisfaction.

"The proper formalities must still be observed." Xia Zhongjin gave a dry laugh and went off to arrange for someone to report.

In the final years of the Wanli reign, a great drought struck Shandong, Henan, and northern South Zhili. Refugees were everywhere. At that time, in order to seize Xuzhou and throw the realm into chaos, the Smelling Incense Sect mobilized a hundred thousand refugees to march south. In the end, forty to fifty thousand refugees besieged Xuzhou, only to be routed by Zhao Jin with great slaughter and countless taken prisoner. It was precisely this battle that laid the foundation of the Zhao Character Camp. The refugees were settled on manors to farm, conscripted as militia, and became the cornerstone of the Zhao Character Camp. In the years that followed, the Zhao Character Camp continuously gathered refugees from all over, strengthening its own foundation.

It is a tragic tale. In those years, before the Liao Tax had even begun to be levied, among the regions around Xuzhou, only Shandong was in unbearable misery, with refugees constantly fleeing. Once the Liao Tax began, everywhere the common people could barely survive, and Shandong suffered worst of all. Even more people fled to Xuzhou.

The largest group everywhere in the Zhao Character Camp was Shandong refugees. They had fled here in the beginning to save their lives, wholeheartedly obeying orders and laboring hard. But once they had food and warmth, their longing for home grew ever stronger. In this era, the common people were most attached to their native soil; the teaching was to die on the land of one's ancestors.

Moreover, the environment the Zhao Character Camp provided them was completely sealed off. While this certainly kept them safe, on the other hand, this sealed environment also left the refugees utterly ignorant of the outside world. Some believed it was still suffering out there; others believed conditions had already improved.

Humble folk naturally harbor a selfish calculation, always feeling others have taken advantage of them. In the first and second year after being taken in by the Zhao Character Camp, they wept with gratitude and were profuse in their thanks. But slowly, they began to feel that since they worked so diligently and the Zhao Character Camp wouldn't let them leave, the camp must be profiting greatly from them. The fact that they weren't allowed to leave surely meant their hometowns had already recovered — otherwise, why would news be blocked...

Scattered escapes began from this point on. Most people did not succeed, but some did manage to flee. Some died on the road, yet others made it back to Shandong. Compared to the manor tenants who farmed without cease, those militiamen who had undergone training had a greater chance of escaping and returning to Shandong.

When they arrived back in their hometowns, all their illusions were shattered. All that remained was regret and panic — because Shandong now was even more miserable than before, even more despairing.

The entire journey back had been sustained by illusion, the belief that they would have a better life upon returning. When they discovered that life back home was far worse than in Xuzhou, that they couldn't even sustain a basic livelihood, many collapsed. Many wanted to return to Xuzhou but died on the road. Others took their own lives amid the ruins of their hometowns. And some sought out the Smelling Incense Sect.

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