Chapter 963: Debating War on the Eve of Battle

The mounts of Zhao Character Camp's cavalry were all sturdy horses handpicked from the grasslands and brought back. They were well-fed with ample fodder, diligently cared for, and fully equipped with tack and horseshoes. The cavalrymen themselves had been trained by instructors hired from the Guard garrison households, combining the experience of the various Mongol tribes of the grasslands. They knew how to exploit a horse's speed and strength, how to protect their mounts, and how to fight on horseback. These enemy scouts and reconnaissance riders, on the other hand, were mere forest outlaws and mounted brigands. Where would they get good horses? A sick or old nag would be ridden until it dropped dead. Sometimes a man eats his fill of meat, and sometimes he chokes down chaff and greens—when would he have the leisure to care for his mount? As for mounted archery skills, poverty drives one to letters, wealth to arms. What decent family would ever turn to banditry and become a fugitive? Their mounted archery was all makeshift, picked up later—mere street-corner tricks.

These mounted brigand riders believed themselves invincible under heaven, thinking that as long as they didn't run into the elite cavalry of government troops or personal retinues, no one else could be their match.

No one had imagined that Zhao Character Camp's cavalry could be so formidable and strong. After a few of their men were killed under the swift horses and powerful bows of Zhao Character Camp's mounted retainers, they instantly scattered in a rout, all keeping well clear. They weren't some fanatical incense-burning, Buddha-worshipping believers—they were only driven by the Smelling Incense Sect for the sake of money and profit. Why would they throw their lives away for nothing?

To Zhao Character Camp, the enemy scouts circling around them weren't even worth mentioning—less than mosquitoes or gnats. Yet this posture made everyone in Zhao Character Camp, from top to bottom, deeply uneasy. This was no sign of Jining being empty and undefended; it clearly showed they were prepared.

That evening before dark, standing on high ground, they could already see the city of Jining. They made camp on the spot, relying on a nearby village. The village was already empty of people—no telling whether they had been dragged away or had fled as refugees.

What truly unsettled everyone was that the well inside the village had been poisoned. Fortunately, Zhao Character Camp's field regulations were extremely strict: water had to be tested before being drawn. It was simply a matter of observing the water's color, then testing it on livestock. The well had been laced with a lethal poison.

Fortunately, the flowing water of the canal couldn't be poisoned. Since they were advancing along the river, they could draw water on the spot, and transport was also very convenient. However, strict orders were issued from top to bottom: water must be boiled before drinking.

Zhao Character Camp was advancing north along the river. Judging by their marching speed, it was easy to deduce where they would encamp. Poisoning was not difficult, but this tactic sent a chill of lingering fear through everyone. From south to north, they had encountered no obstacles, which had unconsciously made them let down their guard. Then, suddenly, a method like this was used. If Zhao Character Camp had truly grown lax, there would inevitably have been casualties, and it would have caused panic.

In handling this matter, Li Song, Li Sen, and the other Li brothers were utterly and completely convinced. Since following the army north, while they admired Zhao Character Camp's military strength, they couldn't understand its discipline. Zhao Character Camp's discipline wasn't as brutally cruel as the Great Ming's, where at any moment hands or feet might be chopped off, cheeks pierced by arrows, and strangulation or beheading were commonplace. Zhao Character Camp only used the military rod and the lash. The Li brothers felt this wasn't enough to keep the men in line. Yet the discipline, though seemingly lax, was at the same time intricate and meticulous—rules for everything, even for eating and drinking. Privately, the Li brothers dismissed all this with contempt, believing it was just a bunch of country bumpkins who'd never seen the world, slapping their heads and dreaming up a heap of regulations.

The soldiers below risked their lives and ate army rations just to live freely and boldly. If you bound them so tightly yet disciplined them so loosely, they'd have no fear and would easily breed resentment. When the time came, how could you drive such an army to lay down their lives for you? What they never expected was that Zhao Character Camp's discipline molded its soldiers so that, scattered or gathered, they moved as one man. And it was precisely this discipline that saved them: the retainers and militia were forbidden to drink water at will; they had to drink only pre-boiled water from their own gourds. This was what prevented them from being harmed by that poisoned well water.

"Eldest Brother, the Smelling Incense Sect demons have certainly made preparations. For the sake of prudence, shouldn't we encamp here and wait for the Third Regiment to come up before advancing?" During the nightly council, they had increased the rotating strength of the night patrols and ordered every regiment and company to be ready for battle at all times. At the council, everyone was solemn. Wang Zhaojing proposed putting prudence first.

"Third Brother, now that we're here, if we halt and stay still, that's showing weakness to the enemy. The army's heart and morale will waver too. We've mobilized three regiments and two large companies this time—finely equipped, with ample provisions. Against worthless wretches like the Smelling Incense Sect, worse than pigs and dogs, what need is there to speak of prudence?" Ji Xiang retorted bluntly and without courtesy. In his heart, he was itching for battle. This sudden talk of prudence was something he would never agree to.

Shi Manqiang, standing to the side, nodded and said in a muffled voice, "Eldest Brother has also said that these heretical cult demons are capable enough at underhanded tricks in the dark, but in a true pitched battle between armies, they're no match. Besides, the retainers below have marched all this way and are already a bit slack. If we stop when we're this close, the retainers' morale will certainly become restless. If we then have to fight, I fear there'll be big trouble."

Over on the other side, Chen Sheng nodded and said to Zhao Jin, "Stone has spent so long in the stockaded villages on the east bank. He's truly gotten down to solid work and learned how to train and command troops."

Hearing this, Shi Manqiang's dark, swarthy face flushed slightly, but he couldn't help breaking into a wide, beaming grin. Ji Xiang's expression, however, turned somewhat awkward. His impetuousness had been criticized by Zhao Jin and Chen Sheng more than once. Liu Yong sat grinning at the lower end of the table.

Yet it was this very scene that made Wang Zhaojing's temper instantly explode. Raising his voice, he said, "Zhao Character Camp is indeed strong. Our regiments and large companies are indeed powerful. But this is our very lifeblood! The roving bandits have nearly ten thousand elite troops and over a hundred thousand able-bodied men. If anything goes wrong, what do we do next? The scoundrels all around us, even the local strongmen right here in Xuzhou—they'll tear us to shreds! Have any of you thought of that?"

Wang Zhaojing very rarely had outbursts like this. Seeing him in such a state, the others were first stunned, then fell silent. Chen Sheng shook his head over there. Wang Zhaojing's smile had also vanished.

"Third Brother, back in the day, a few hundred of us faced tens of thousands of roving bandits. Eldest Brother and Second Brother led us just like that, charging to the city walls and routing them utterly. Now we have nearly seven thousand in our large companies, over a thousand in the cavalry, plus bows, arrows, and firearms. Are we supposed to be afraid of them now? Prudence, prudence—if we're always like this, then should we just stop fighting altogether from now on?!" Ji Xiang stood up, gritted his teeth, and began to argue, his voice growing louder and louder.

Wang Zhaojing first frowned, then his face flushed crimson. He shouted, "Are you saying I'm afraid now? Or that I was a coward back then? You killed the enemy outside the city; I killed the enemy inside the city! I'm not afraid—I'm considering the bigger picture! How hard we've fought to carve out this situation! We must be cautious, we must be cautious! Do you think I'm afraid of these things?"

Back then, before the roving bandits crossed the river and came south, Wang Zhaojing, because he was preparing to pursue a career through the imperial examinations, had been studying in the city. At that time, the brothers had already begun to show signs of drifting apart.

But when tens of thousands of refugees besieged Xuzhou, Zhao Jin, Chen Sheng, and a few others led several hundred retainers charging into the midst of tens of thousands of roving bandits. It was truly a brush with death. Meanwhile, Wang Zhaojing, inside the fortified city, led men to defend the walls and block the gates—a task also fraught with extreme peril. Yet this matter was rarely brought up in Zhao Character Camp. In private discussions, people would say that Wang Zhaojing had fled from battle at the critical moment and hadn't shared life-and-death hardships with everyone else.

That time when their comrades were ambushed and Sun Dalei died in battle, Wang Zhaojing had once broken down. During the siege of Xuzhou, he hadn't fought shoulder-to-shoulder with them either. At several critical junctures from childhood to adulthood for Zhao Jin and the others, Wang Zhaojing's performance couldn't be called too good. However, everyone just kept this in their hearts and never brought it up. These matters were likewise scars in Wang Zhaojing's own heart, things that could not be mentioned. Today, in the heat of argument, Ji Xiang might not have meant it that way, but Wang Zhaojing took it as the truth.

At this juncture, Wang Zhaojing's usual calm composure and scholarly bearing had completely vanished. He stood there glaring fiercely at Ji Xiang. Ji Xiang, his face flushed red, didn't back down an inch.

"Both of you, sit down. Between our own brothers, anything can be said. Between our own brothers, we speak our minds directly." Zhao Jin, who had been sitting back watching everyone argue, finally spoke.

His expression was impassive, his voice devoid of either joy or anger. Yet the comrades who knew Zhao Jin well all dared not say another word.

"Xuzhou is too small. The Southern Metropolitan Region has too many taboos. In such a core region of the realm, outside of Xuzhou, even in a place like Qingjiangpu, we can only intervene and control things under the name of the merchant guild. The only place we can truly put down roots and entrench ourselves is the Wasteland Grass Shoal. That place is effectively lawless territory. If we make a move on Huai'an Prefecture, Yangzhou Prefecture, and Fengyang Prefecture, or even further south, it will immediately shake the entire realm. Not only will the imperial court send troops to encircle and suppress us, but the local gentry and powerful magnates will also fight us to the death. The Northern Metropolitan Region is the vital imperial capital zone. Henan is full of princely fiefs and is the Central Plains—touching it would be just as troublesome. The only direction we can expand into is this southern Shandong region."

Wang Zhaojing sighed softly. Zhao Jin continued, "By taking the southern Shandong region, we can seize a larger population, control more farmland, and our situation will double. Instead of being cramped within Xuzhou and scattered in fragments across the Southern Metropolitan Region, we'll have a complete, unified territory. When the time comes to muster our strength and gather resources, everything will be unhurried and convenient. Only then can we take the next step forward."

Zhao Jin stood up, his voice turning solemn. Looking at everyone, he said, "For this greater situation, for this next step forward, it's worth taking the risk. It's worth gambling this once. Since we've come here, we cannot slow down. We cannot delay."

Wang Zhaojing was about to speak when Zhao Jin continued, "Delay breeds trouble. We must fight a quick battle and force a quick decision. We can't wait for the government troops to assemble, nor can we wait for the Smelling Incense Sect to entrench itself further. Although no matter how they train using our methods, they'll never pose a threat to us, it would still be a colossal headache. Besides, our troubles don't stop there."

Ji Xiang smacked his palm with his fist, visibly stirred. Zhao Jin's words had essentially set the tone: they would fight!

"Zhaojing, tomorrow morning, you'll take a boat back to Xuzhou..."

Before the words were even finished, Wang Zhaojing shot up from his seat, his face flushed crimson. Waving his hands, he cried, "Eldest Brother, your younger brother can also don armor and grasp sharp blades! I can also go into battle and kill the enemy! I'm not afraid of mountains of corpses and seas of blood! For Eldest Brother to send me back to Xuzhou at a time like this—could it be you despise me as a coward and a weakling? If Eldest Brother doesn't believe me, then tomorrow I am willing to serve as the vanguard! I am willing to die before the battle lines..."

"Shut your mouth! Wild fancies! Nonsense!" By the end of Wang Zhaojing's outburst, his voice had become utterly hoarse. But these words ignited Zhao Jin's anger, and he cut him off with a thunderous shout.

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