Chapter 961: They Must See It

"Before we set out, I had a few estimates. One was that the moment our main force moved, the Smelling Incense Sect would get word immediately and rally their troops to fight us to the death. Another was that word would travel slowly, and the Smelling Incense Sect would only get the news when we were nearly at our destination, forcing them to scrape together forces and fight us. The third was that they would never learn of it at all, and everything would go according to our plan. I originally thought the first was most likely, the second less so — I never imagined the third estimate would actually be the most likely…" As Zhao Jin said this, his expression still held a trace of disbelief.

"Big Brother, our men are battle-tested elites forged through a hundred trials, or at the very least, well-fed with silver. The Smelling Incense Sect's people rely on gods and buddhas and petty favors to deceive — that works fine in ordinary times, but in chaos like this, with deadly peril everywhere, even our own men find passing messages this difficult, let alone that rabble of theirs." As Liu Yong said this, his face showed pride and confidence.

Zhao Jin nodded and said with a smile, "The Smelling Incense Sect and the like — in times of peace, they operate in the shadows, seeming to seep in everywhere, able to cause people all sorts of trouble. But once great chaos like this erupts, everything they built before collapses instantly, rendered utterly useless. Instead, they pose far less of a threat than they did in peacetime."

At that, Zhao Jin added with a sigh, "If in chaos like this they could still wield the same vast powers they did in peacetime, then they wouldn't be the Smelling Incense Sect — they'd be our Zhao Camp!"

Everyone burst into laughter. Zhao Jin rose and paced a few steps, then said in a low voice, "Assign the best-mounted, most seasoned and steady horse-riding household troops and volunteers to head toward Jining. We need to know what's happening there at all times now."

Ji Xiang and Liu Yong hurriedly rose to acknowledge the order. Zhao Jin glanced at Wang Zhaojing and said with a smile, "The reason I'm not using the Li brothers is because they're too eager for merit — they might end up doing something rash."

By the second day of encampment, the atmosphere in the Zhao Camp's main force had grown somewhat peculiar. Crossing the Yellow River, reaching Guting Town in Yutai County, Shandong, and making camp, then striking camp and marching north — the entire journey had been tense and on high alert. Everyone had been stirred up and uneasy, certain a great battle was imminent. Yet all along the march, after reaching Shijia Village and fighting a battle that was not really a battle, they had simply encamped. They had thought it was just a day's rest — no one expected the second day would be the same.

And though security was tight and training never stopped, there had been no harassing enemy activity at all. It was no different from the usual march drills — truly hard to stay on edge.

In the afternoon of the second day, the hastily built watchtowers spotted a great cloud of dust rising in the distance. Still, there was nothing to be tense about, because a fast messenger had already ridden back to report: "Shi Manqiang's Second Regiment has arrived."

A Zhao Camp regiment numbered a thousand men, but the force Shi Manqiang led was no mere thousand-man unit. Besides those ten companies of household troops, there were also nearly two hundred archers and a mounted contingent of around three hundred. Though canal boats transported their supplies and matériel, they had also brought enough carts of their own, escorted by militia auxiliaries. The entire force now exceeded two thousand.

Seeing this sight, Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng, who had come out to greet them, wore smiles. Ji Xiang's face, however, betrayed a hint of envy — being posted to garrison duty outside was truly different from staying by the commander's side.

"I've made Big Brother and Second Brother wait — am I late?" Shi Manqiang asked this question first after dismounting.

"You're probably early," Zhao Jin said with a smile.

The arrival of this Second Regiment not only sent morale soaring throughout the Zhao Camp, it also greatly shocked and awed the group who had temporarily thrown in their lot with them. The elite camp troops Zhao Jin had led before had already defied their common sense — even as they marveled, they had assumed the Zhao Camp had perhaps committed all its finest forces this time, that its veteran core was all here. Strong as they were, their numbers were regrettably small. Only after seeing the Second Regiment did everyone realize how wrong that notion had been.

They were every bit as formidable, and even carried an air of steadiness. Superbly equipped — these were also Zhao Camp troops. The Zhao Camp, already thought to be immensely strong, had abruptly doubled in strength after this rendezvous. At this point, everyone's thoughts turned to the Third Regiment at Qingjiangpu. If that Third Regiment was of the same caliber, just how powerful was this Zhao Camp? With such strength, what exactly were they planning to do?

After seeing all this, the Shi family's enthusiasm rose considerably. Moreover, the Zhao Camp assigned the two hundred militia auxiliaries traveling with the army to assist them, which gave them much greater confidence.

As for the Li brothers, they watched with burning envy and whispered among themselves without pause: "Even the old marshal never had troops this crack in his day. Apart from having fewer horsemen, they surpass his in every other way!"

"It seems this Zhao Camp truly means to do great things. We brothers are already criminals in the eyes of the Great Ming — we mustn't miss this chance."

"That Zhao Jin probably still has his guard up against us brothers. We shouldn't be so impatient either."

As for the Xuzhou volunteers accompanying them, many were seeing the Zhao Camp reveal such strength and scale for the first time, and they too were utterly shaken. They knew the Zhao Camp's true foundations better than outsiders, and thought to themselves: the Third Regiment and the militia haven't even been mobilized yet. If all of that were brought to bear, what kind of scale would that be?

"Use the militia to hold the key nodes on land, and use canal transport to move grain supplies. Once we set out, the work of recruiting refugees must begin. We also need to start planning the farm estates in the counties of southern Shandong," Zhao Jin assigned this to Wang Zhaojing.

Quite a few people from Cloud Mountain Trading were also advancing with the army. Some were responsible for the army's supplies; others used the army's military momentum to travel to various places along the route, purchasing farmland, properties, and estates in preparation for setting up Cloud Mountain Trading branches later.

"I'll send men back to Xuzhou at once — this must not be delayed," Wang Zhaojing immediately accepted the order.

After Shi Manqiang arrived, there were no conventional formalities like a welcoming banquet, nor any sentimental pleasantries of brothers reuniting and pouring out their hearts. He went straight into the command tent to discuss official business. Outside Shijia Village, column after column of dejected refugees were being shouted at and herded along, setting out on the road south. Though some militia auxiliaries called out in Shandong accents, "You'll find happiness once you go there! As long as you work, you'll eat your fill, and you won't have to worry about being bullied…"

No one believed these words. Everyone just followed along, heads hanging in despair. Right now, they were nothing more than pigs and sheep — what right did they have to speak? That so-called Western Paradise Immortal Realm had already deceived people to this state — who would still believe what Xuzhou said? Before the gleaming blades and spears, they could only accept their fate.

"Setting out from Jining, it takes two or three days to reach Ziyang City. The Smelling Incense Sect's rebel army can hardly be said to have any organization — four days at minimum. We're still two days' march from Jining. Counting the time for messages to travel, by the time we reach the walls of Jining, they should just about be reaching the walls of Ziyang."

Before a rough map, Zhao Jin gestured and pointed, while everyone around him watched with rapt attention.

"Once we arrive, they won't have many options. Ziyang's defenses are complete, and it's garrisoned by government troops and civilian militia. The Prince of Lu's estate inside the city is keeping a very tight watch — trying to pull off another inside-outside collaboration probably won't work. Trying to storm the city by force would be even harder. That being the case, they won't stubbornly fixate on Ziyang, which they can't take quickly. Instead, they'll turn back to secure Jining. But judging by their current response, once they learn we've arrived, things will be thrown into chaos. Those large bands of roving bandits won't be able to rush back. The only ones who can make it back in time are those five units trained according to our methods. When the time comes, we'll wait at ease for the exhausted enemy — our advantage will be even greater," Zhao Jin expounded.

Chen Sheng swept his eyes over the map and said, "We now have over a thousand mounted troops and close to five thousand household troops. With strength like that, a forced march to smash them outright would do. The current plan seems overly complicated — it could easily go wrong."

Zhao Jin coughed once and said, "The defenders on Ziyang's walls must see the Smelling Incense Sect's rebel bandits."

Hearing this, Chen Sheng seemed about to speak, then held back, and finally fell silent. Zhao Jin swept his gaze around the room and said in a deep voice, "In these next few days of marching, everyone is to pick out the most reliable men in their respective camps. At the very least, you should have a list in mind, so that when the time comes, you can select them at a moment's notice."

"What do you mean by 'most reliable'? Madmen like Fan Jinbang are rare, after all. The brothers below are all trustworthy now," Chen Sheng spoke up. Words like these — only he had the standing to say them.

Zhao Jin smiled and explained, "I know the brothers can all be trusted. What I mean is: no matter what we set out to do, those below will follow us without a shred of doubt. Those are the most reliable."

Though the words were not spelled out completely, everyone fell silent, lost in thought.

Another quiet day passed. Early the next morning, fast messenger riders set out from the camp in all directions. The reorganized mounted troops also began leaving camp. This time, they did not disperse into small squads to screen the perimeter; instead, the main body advanced forward, detaching small squads to keep watch around them. An order was issued, and the marching order became: First Regiment in the vanguard, the personal guard unit and the First and Fourth Brigades in the center, and the Second Regiment bringing up the rear.

Amid all this activity and these orders, the atmosphere, which had slackened slightly, began to grow tense once more.

Ziyang, the seat of Yanzhou Prefecture, was already in a state of alarm three times a day. Before Jining had fallen, this prefectural seat had been relatively relaxed. The prince's estate and the government offices had scattered large sums of money to recruit village braves and civilian militia, then set about repairing defenses and forging weapons. They had even been planning that once the roving bandits were checked beneath the strong city walls and crushed by the main government forces, Ziyang would send out troops to assist in a joint campaign to suppress this great rebellion.

But after the main government force was routed and Jining City fell, Ziyang immediately panicked. The city gates on all four sides were shut at once. Only one was opened each day, and even then only halfway, ready to be closed at any moment. Every day, soldiers and civilian militia were assigned to patrol the walls. Whenever the gates were opened, it was to send out messengers pleading for aid, rushing off to the provincial capital and the imperial capital to beg for relief.

Qiao Shan, the Hundred-Household Commander of the Guard Detachment from the Prince of Lu's estate, stood atop Ziyang's southern wall, gazing into the distance from behind the battlements. Around him were a dozen or so armored soldiers bearing blades — a rather crack-looking contingent. The militia and the like on the wall felt considerably reassured at the sight of them.

Those in the know, however, were well aware that these armored soldiers were all for show. They were fine for bolstering the prince's estate's prestige in ordinary times, but if it came to real battle, they were worth nothing.

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