Chapter 294: Support

“Hm? From Dacheng? Hahaha, you lot are interesting. There’s still a war going on over there, isn’t there? And you still came out to trade?”

Jin Shuke looked over the caravan’s papers and asked in mild surprise.

“Listen to you, sir. Just because there’s a war, are people supposed to stop eating? Stop doing business?”

Without changing expression, the caravan leader slipped a small pouch of silver toward him.

Jin Shuke stepped aside and did not take it.

Instead, he said, “Is this what you people mean when you say you want money more than your lives?”

“Life is precious, of course. But without money, there’s no way to live either, is there?”

Jin Shuke nodded.

“Fair point. Go on in. They’ll inventory and register everything farther inside.”

“Oh, many thanks, sir. Please take this little token and buy the brothers some tea.”

“Put it away. Otherwise I’ll charge you with bribing an officer.”

“I wouldn’t dare. I wouldn’t dare.”

The caravan leader hurriedly put the silver away, bowed several more times, then gestured for his people to enter the city.

There was no great fortune to be made at the gate checkpoint, but little bits of grease and profit were always available.

However, under Shengle City’s present system of “severe law,” nobody dared reach out for them.

Throwing away your future and your life for a few taels of silver?

Not worth it.

Not worth it at all.

Jin Shuke waved one of his subordinates over and whispered, “Go notify Third Master’s people. Tell them a caravan from Dacheng has entered the city.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Once the order was given, Jin Shuke stretched lazily and walked over to Yu Huaping.

Shengle’s army emphasized standing at attention.

The purpose was simple: it looked good when General Zheng inspected the troops.

Every month, the various formations gathered for a drill review. The top three were ranked, as were the bottom three.

Because of that, many officers demanded extremely strict posture from their men even during ordinary guard duty. Some went even further and gathered their subordinates after duty to practice marching in step.

This had, admittedly, produced an extremely visible improvement in Shengle City’s “urban appearance.”

Of course, standing motionless on guard posed absolutely no difficulty for Yu Huaping.

He could hold the same posture from morning until night.

Jin Shuke took out a small bottle, poured a little medicated cooling oil onto his fingertip, then rubbed it beneath his nose.

This was a new product from the workshops in the western part of the city.

It worked quite well for clearing the head and fighting drowsiness, so Jin Shuke had bought some for himself.

Watching the Dacheng caravan enter the city, Jin Shuke said quietly, “There might be spies from over there mixed in with them.”

Yu Huaping turned his head toward Jin Shuke.

“I’ve already notified the right people,” Jin Shuke continued.

Yu Huaping nodded.

For the past several months, Yu Huaping had diligently played the role of an ordinary city guard.

A Sword Saint of his generation had genuinely endured the tedium.

Even General Zheng, who at first had come to the eastern gate seven or eight times a day as if he could never get enough, had gradually lost the novelty and stopped visiting so often.

Jin Shuke, however, had remained extremely attentive toward this “subordinate.”

He seemed to have firmly decided that this man was no ordinary figure.

Many times, Jin Shuke would explain his own experience to him, even sharing why he handled certain matters the way he did and what purpose lay behind them.

There really were people in this world who deserved to rise.

That kind of eye for people was not something everyone possessed.

“Want to drink together after duty?” Jin Shuke asked.

Yu Huaping shook his head.

“No. You all go.”

Jin Shuke was not offended in the slightest.

In truth, he had long since grown accustomed to being refused.

Aside from the one gathering held when Jin Shuke’s wife gave birth, Yu Huaping had skipped every other get-together among the brothers.

“Fine.”

Jin Shuke reached out and patted Yu Huaping on the shoulder, imitating the expression his Master, Zheng Fan, had worn when patting his shoulder in the past.

After duty, Yu Huaping put away his saber and began walking back.

On the road, he saw his disciple waiting for him at the same street corner, precisely on time as always.

The Little Sword Attendant wore her wooden sword at her waist and stood perfectly straight.

When Yu Huaping approached, she naturally fell in behind him.

Master and disciple entered a small alleyway inside the city.

At the end stood a tiny courtyard.

It looked somewhat shabby, but it had been kept very clean.

After entering, the Sword Saint picked up a water bucket, then turned and left again.

The Little Sword Attendant, meanwhile, took a handful of candied fruit from inside her robe and began teasing the little boy who came running out of the house.

The master and disciple seemed to have grown accustomed to this division of labor.

Everything came naturally.

The Sword Saint made two trips carrying water and filled the household water vat.

The little boy, having eaten too much candied fruit, rubbed his swollen belly.

An old woman watched the scene with a delighted smile.

When the Sword Saint returned, she enthusiastically pulled him over and began measuring his feet against a shoe pattern, saying she wanted to make him two pairs of cloth shoes.

“You soldiers wear good boots, sure, but they suffocate your feet. The stink from them—good heavens. Shoes sewn by an old woman like me are better. Your feet can breathe.”

Hearing that, the Sword Saint nodded.

“That’s true.”

By the time dusk began settling in, the woman finished her shift at the perfume workshop and returned home.

At that moment, the Sword Saint and the Little Sword Attendant were preparing to leave.

The woman pursed her lips, then called out, “I’ll cook. Stay and eat dinner with us tonight.”

The Sword Saint waved a hand.

“Next time.

“Next time.”

With that, he left the house with the Little Sword Attendant.

Back at their lodging in the relay station, the steward brought them two bowls of noodles.

Master and disciple each took one.

Neither ate with anything resembling elegance.

“Master, why didn’t you stay there for dinner?”

“It isn’t time yet,” the Sword Saint replied.

By the customs of the Jin lands, if an unmarried man and an unmarried woman sat down together at the same table and seriously shared a meal, that basically meant they were pairing up to live as husband and wife.

The woman had already extended the invitation.

But the Sword Saint had never accepted.

“Master, are you shy?” the Little Sword Attendant asked.

The Sword Saint hesitated.

Then nodded.

“I think that future Mistress is pretty good. She looks like someone who knows how to live an honest life,” the Little Sword Attendant said.

“How old are you, and you already know how to judge people?”

“Master, I can see some of what people are thinking inside. You already know that.”

The Sword Saint understood.

He lowered his head and continued eating noodles.

Once master and disciple finished their meal, the Little Sword Attendant began practicing her sword.

The Sword Saint took Longyuan and began carving.

He wanted to make a pellet drum for the little boy Zheng Fan had personally named Tian Tian.

After all, the brat had once pissed on him six times while being carried in his arms.

He also intended to carve a little wooden sword for the woman’s son, Liu Dahu.

Longyuan, a famous sword of the age, was now being used in the Sword Saint’s hands to make toys for children.

Who knew whether that Swordsmith of Chu would cough blood from rage if he ever found out?

The Blind Man had once come to ask him whether he planned to continue working as a city guard.

If he wanted to continue, then continue.

He had even asked whether the Sword Saint wanted a promotion.

If he no longer wished to do it, then they could discuss some other arrangement.

And even if he chose to leave entirely, there would at least be a farewell banquet.

But Yu Huaping had chosen to stay.

Every morning, he continued exchanging his sword for a saber before heading to the city gate and watching the streams of people enter and leave.

Even the Sword Saint himself had never imagined he would remain a city guard for this long.

Even more unexpectedly, the cultivation realm that had stagnated for so long—the ceiling he seemed to have touched ages ago had actually begun showing signs of loosening.

The Sword Saint remembered a question he had once asked the Blind Man.

What kind of qi did his sword possess?

The Blind Man’s answer had been: earthiness.

As he continued carving, a smile unconsciously appeared at the corner of the Sword Saint’s mouth.

The Little Sword Attendant, still practicing her sword, keenly caught the detail.

She did not stop moving.

She merely snorted inwardly with disdain.

*Heh. Men.*

...

“Where’s the vanguard officer?” Zheng Fan asked.

“Master, he’s waiting in the front hall.”

“Heh-heh.”

Zheng Fan laughed and tossed the military order from the First Prince onto the desk.

Several Demon Kings had all put down their work and gathered at the residence for a meeting.

The First Prince’s army had already reached the border and was about to enter the State of Dacheng.

Xue San spoke first.

“Master, this First Prince certainly knows how to put on airs. He opens his mouth and demands ten thousand laborers, then wants us to handle the grain, supplies, and transport for his entire left-wing army.

“What the hell does he think he is?”

A’Ming nodded.

“He thinks he’s Tian Wujing.”

When Tian Wujing entered the snowfields, Shengle City had been responsible for organizing and arranging his grain and supplies.

Their logistical support had been watertight.

Of course, Shengle City had also made a fortune when the spoils were divided after the campaign.

The First Prince had obviously taken note of Shengle City’s ability to act as a “logistics corps.”

Zheng Fan lifted his teacup and took a sip.

He did not speak immediately.

Siniang said, “Shengle is still running at a massive loss.

“Fortunately our reserves are deep enough that we can keep absorbing it for now.

“But if we have to support a huge army’s logistics on top of that, then this truly becomes a pure loss.

“Even if Master’s military title moves up another notch when merit is assessed after the war, what real meaning would that have?”

If all you contributed was grain and supplies, then when the spoils of victory were divided afterward, there naturally would not be much for you.

After all, you had not actually sent troops to fight.

Liang Cheng spoke.

“We cannot be the fool who pays for everyone else.”

Zheng Fan then asked, “How is Chen Yang responding?”

Chen Yang was the Chief Commander at Xinsu City, with ten thousand Jingnan Army troops under him.

The Blind Man replied, “Master, Chen Yang has shut himself inside the city and refuses to come out.

“He did not even appear to greet the First Prince when the main army passed through.”

Tian Wujing had not spoken.

Who in the Jingnan Army dared make a move?

Of course, someone *could* go out to greet him.

That would simply mean stepping outside the Jingnan Army system and leaping into the First Prince’s arms instead.

Whether to do that or not was up to the individual.

But from Zheng Fan’s perspective, he would have to have water in his brain to leave Tian Wujing and throw himself into the First Prince’s arms just to start over as a bootlicker.

Tian Wujing’s own son was still being raised in Zheng Fan’s house.

“Tell that vanguard officer Shengle is poor and suffering.

“We have been operating at a deficit for a long time and truly have no spare strength to support the main army.”

Operating at a deficit was certainly true.

Among the Yan forces stationed in the Jin lands, cities like Litian and Quhe—the former strongholds of the Wenren and Helian clans—were still all right.

They had large populations and flourishing commerce.

But elsewhere, the Yan garrisons received only half their military pay from the imperial court.

The other half had to be raised locally.

That had effectively become an unspoken rule.

The court knew perfectly well that the garrisons had their own ways of obtaining money and grain and would not truly live too badly.

It was rather like certain yamen in later generations whose official salary was pitifully small, yet countless people still fought tooth and nail to get inside.

Zheng Fan continued, “And while we’re at it, draw up an account of all the military pay, grain, and supplies the court has owed us over nearly the past year.

“Send someone to the First Prince with the bill.

“Beg His Highness to take pity on us.

“Tell him our days have become so poor we simply cannot go on, and ask the First Prince to support us.”

[End of Chapter 294]