Chapter 956: The Hearts of Southern Lu

In Yanzhou Prefecture's seat, Ziyang City, there were over a thousand government troops, more than three hundred guards from the Prince of Lu's estate, and over ten thousand local militia and trained braves. Grain, fodder, and military supplies were all ample. What set this place apart from Jining City was that the prince's estate was highly practiced in handling such great upheavals. Since the reigns of Taizu and Chengzu, Shandong had seen countless rebellions, and Ziyang City, where the Prince of Lu's estate was located, had been besieged more than once or twice. Yet each time, Ziyang City stood firm and unmoved. The reason it remained safe and sound was that the prince's estate put forth tremendous effort.

Whenever such times came, the normally miserly Prince of Lu's estate would produce large sums of gold and silver as rewards, mobilize the estate's able-bodied men to mount the walls and join the defense, and then apply pressure on the local prefect and county magistrate, forcing them to grant every convenience to the various defending parties. At such moments, Ziyang City's defenses would multiply in effectiveness. Moreover, as the seat of Yanzhou Prefecture, the center of all southern Lu, and the princely city housing the Prince of Lu's estate, Ziyang had been built on an especially towering and massive scale, and its fortifications were exceedingly complete.

Furthermore, within Ziyang City, because of the prince's estate's presence, not only did the local government runners keep a tight watch, but even agents of the Embroidered Uniform Guard patrolled the streets. With so many official constables and secret agents, the forbidden and unlawful practices of burning incense and following the cult were naturally suppressed with an iron grip, and the number of sect followers and believers never grew large.

As soon as the great upheaval began, refugees sought shelter everywhere, desperate to flee into the city. Mingled among them were large numbers of spies and secret agents of the Smelling Incense Sect. But here at Ziyang City, refugees were almost never admitted. Anyone wishing to enter the city had to have a guarantor from within; otherwise, they could only remain outside. This practice was a lesson passed down through many years.

With all these precautions and hard-won experience, with those complete and massive defenses, and with ample manpower and resources, it would not be so easy for the Smelling Incense Sect to take Ziyang City.

"The government troops' crushing defeat may not be a bad thing for Ziyang City, because now there aren't enough forces to sally forth and fight in the open field. They can only hunker down and defend the city to the death!"

There were all sorts of reasons why Ziyang City could not be taken quickly. But for the Smelling Incense Sect at this moment, if they wanted to make their current situation more secure, continue expanding their power, and gain a firm foothold in Yanzhou Prefecture and the southern Lu region, they absolutely had to capture Ziyang City. And that meant they would have to commit the main strength of their forces.

On the very first day that Zhao's Battalion struck camp and began its march, the entire force was placed under martial law and strict discipline, ready to engage the enemy at any moment. Of course, the enemy could not possibly arrive that quickly, but it was foreseeable: once Zhao's Battalion's main body moved north, the various scouts watching from all around would relay the news to Zou County. If the Smelling Incense Sect wanted to maintain their current position, they had to stop Zhao's Battalion. A battle between the two sides was inevitable; the only uncertainty was when.

During the march north, they encountered no harassing raids or sneak attacks from the Smelling Incense Sect. Instead, they met many common folk fleeing the chaos. These people were not mere refugees; they were households that still possessed some family property and resources, families who had been able to hold on through these lean years. They were not destitute drifters, which was precisely why this upheaval had hurt them the most. The fall of Jining City had caught many completely off guard. Unwilling to be reduced to the state of refugees, they had found every possible way to escape.

Yet under these circumstances, once they fled, their situation was little different from that of refugees. When they first caught sight of Zhao's Battalion's troops, they did not see any government banners and assumed it was another band of drifters and bandits. By that point, it was too late to run; they could only wait in despair for death.

Once they discovered that Zhao's Battalion was a force of local braves and trained militia from Xuzhou, and that it was led by the Xuzhou Assistant Regional Commander, a surge of overwhelming emotion swept through them. Many broke down and wept in sheer relief, while even more kowtowed and prayed, wishing the Xuzhou troops a victorious campaign.

Aside from these refugees whose family wealth had been utterly drained by the upheaval, there were also wealthy and prominent households who had not fallen to such dire straits. They often managed to flee with their family fortunes, traveling by cart or horse, and escorted by household servants and armed retainers. Such people were more adept at dealing with Zhao's Battalion. They would typically take the initiative to offer military funds and then request permission to go and reside in Xuzhou.

To these people, Zhao's Battalion was always quite courteous. Wang Zhaojing was invariably the one to receive them, for these were individuals of considerable wealth, and once in Xuzhou, they could at the very least help the local markets flourish.

The refugees all followed the river south, heading for the peaceful lands of Southern Zhili. Everywhere to the north lay ruins ravaged by the drifters, or places where the rebel mobs gathered in howling packs. At a time like this, if anyone headed north, there could be only one reason — they were a spy or secret agent.

This common sense was obvious to anyone. The men of Zhao's Battalion knew it, and so did the scouts who lurked and kept watch. But before Zhao's Battalion set out, its roving cavalry had swept out in all directions, slaughtering every scout and agent they could find. This morning, the Xuzhou Braves all looked weary, men and horses alike, yet many wore expressions of excitement, while many others looked dejected. The previous night had been, in effect, a wager of martial valor. Whoever hunted the most heads would gain favor and take home more silver. But these warriors of Xu and Pi, who could ride horses and bear blades, came from well-to-do families; none of them cared about that silver. What mattered was the prestige.

The man who had hunted the most heads last night was not Cai Huajun, the chief of the Xuzhou Braves, but Bayin, a squad leader of the cavalry company who led eleven grassland warriors. This band of Mongol horsemen were masters of bow and steed, long accustomed to night raids and ambushes. Moreover, vast stretches of southern Lu now lay desolate and uninhabited due to the great disaster and upheaval, and the terrain was utterly flat — bearing a slight resemblance to the grasslands. They had brought back a full twenty-some heads.

Because of the purge and sweep just before setting out, and because nearly a thousand riders from Zhao's Battalion's cavalry company and the Xuzhou Braves were roaming the area, a huge swath of the surrounding region had become a forbidden zone. Anyone trying to deliver a warning would have to take a long detour. With fewer scouts and the need to circle far around, getting word to the Jining and Zou County area became far more troublesome and would take much longer.

But the land was vast, and for all one's vigilance, something would always slip through. The news could not be entirely blocked. On the second day of its march, Zhao's Battalion extended the range of its scouting patrols by another ten li, yet still found no trace of the main refugee horde. Meanwhile, the government troops in Caozhou still had not moved, waiting for their delayed grain and fodder.

By the third day, however, word that the Xuzhou troops were marching north had already begun to spread through Shandong. The Smelling Incense Sect had brought calamity to southern Lu, poisoning the land. Though the refugees numbered in the hundreds of thousands, surging like a tidal wave, smashing and grinding down everything in their path — common folk either joined the refugee tide or perished beneath its raging torrent.

Yet there were also those who led resistance against the tide. Among the local gentry and powerful families, some who could flee did so. Others, unwilling to see their family legacies destroyed, rallied their kin and neighbors to form militia bands and fought desperate battles against the Smelling Incense Sect's forces. They could not oppose the main horde, but they could harass and annihilate smaller bands.

With the government troops routed and every strategic point and major city shut tight behind its walls, refusing to sally forth, the various militia and braves scattered across the countryside found their situation growing ever more desperate. Some even turned on each other in internecine strife. None could hold out any longer.

When the news of the Xuzhou troops' northward march arrived and spread, it was like a bright lamp lit in the pitch-black night. Men came from all around to join them.

Upon arriving, they discovered this was not a government army, but Zhao Jin's personal Xuzhou force. Far from cooling their spirits and making them disperse, this realization only excited them further.

"In times like these, it's still Heavenly King Zhao who can be relied upon!"

"Heavenly King Zhao's righteousness reaches the clouds! Across the two capitals and thirteen provinces, only Heavenly King Zhao stands indomitable, a man of towering integrity."

"From now on, across all of Shandong, we'll all recognize Heavenly King Zhao as our dragon head! If anyone refuses, I'll be the first to cut him down with my blade."

In the eyes of the leaders of these scattered forces throughout southern Lu, Zhao Jin was more reliable than the imperial court, and Zhao's Battalion was stronger than the government troops. If they followed Zhao's Battalion into battle, they could surely carve out a domain for themselves, and the benefits would be many.

Toward these scattered and roving militia bands of southern Lu, Zhao's Battalion's attitude could not be called particularly warm. They followed the same method used to select the Xuzhou Braves: those elite fighters with polished martial skills, their own bows and horses, were kept on as guides. The rest were issued grain, assigned guides, and sent back to Yutai County to await orders.

Only the men from the Shi Family Estate were kept on in greater numbers. The Shi Family Estate lay on the western bank of the Grand Canal, a little over forty li from Jining City, making it something of a southern gateway to Jining.

Situated right by the canal and so close to Jining, the estate had always thrived on the trade in smuggled goods and private grain along the canal route. It was one of the wealthiest places in southern Lu. When the Smelling Incense Sect stirred the refugees into rebellion, the Shi Family Estate initially believed the words of several incense heads within the estate, who said, "You have such close ties to the canal trade, and so many in the estate burn incense and follow the faith. You and Sect Leader Xu are branches of the same root. Surely no harm will come to you."

The branch of the Smelling Incense Sect that the Shi Family Estate followed was the one tied to the canal trade. Normally, the Shandong Smelling Incense Sect rarely came to provoke them, so they believed these words. Besides, with the spring thaw opening the river, the beginning of the year was the most profitable season for the canal smuggling trade. To abandon everything and flee into refuge was something they simply could not bear to do.

Right after the Smelling Incense Sect broke through Jining, the Shi Family Estate received the news — and immediately after, the refugee horde came slaughtering their way over. The estate, which had been completely off guard, was instantly doomed. They had seen the great cloud of dust rising in the distance and had raised the drawbridges around the estate, summoning the local braves to prepare a defense. But who could have guessed that when the refugee horde attacked, someone inside the estate, heedless of life or death, would lower a drawbridge for them and let them charge in?

In the end, it was the three brothers of the Shi family, the estate's foremost household, who fought their way out under the protection of their most trusted family retainers. Their entire families, old and young, women and children, were all lost inside. Their fates were almost certainly grim.

The vendetta of a shattered family and a slaughtered clan filled the Shi men with a hatred that surged to the heavens. They had offered rich bounties and gathered various "righteous armies" to seek revenge. But these remnant local militia bands were utterly insignificant compared to the Smelling Incense Sect's great army. No one dared to go. The Shi family and their close allies managed to rally a few hundred men and attacked, but as soon as battle was joined, the casualties were heavy.

Although these militia at least had iron blades and spears, and many had a rough grasp of martial skills and had drilled in peacetime, they held not the slightest advantage against the Smelling Incense Sect's refugee army. The refugees' only iron weapons were spears, and many were armed with bamboo pikes and sharpened wooden stakes. But first, they had overwhelming numbers; second, they possessed a ferocious disregard for life and death. In every engagement, the local braves and militia of southern Lu were utterly routed and never dared to give battle again.

They had originally hoped the government troops would come to quell the rebellion, but those troops had proven pathetically fragile. These scattered and fleeing gentry and local strongmen of southern Lu had also gone to Caozhou, hoping to coordinate with the newly appointed Caozhou Regional Commander, Yang Zhaoji, to march on Jining and suppress the revolt. But Regional Commander Yang Zhaoji was a veteran officer who acted with extreme caution. Not only was he aloof and unwilling to grant an audience to these dispossessed local strongmen, but even if he did see them, his answer was always the same: the troops and supplies were not yet assembled; he could not move out lightly.

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