“Zihou, you’re in a hurry, so I won’t ramble. To keep it brief, I’m here not only to see you off but also on behalf of the city’s officials, gentry, and merchants. To express gratitude for you and the Zhejiang army’s life-saving defence of our homes, they’ve voluntarily raised 50,000 taels of silver to donate to the Zhejiang army as military funds.”
“In addition, they’ve gathered 50,000 shi of grain and fodder, also donated to the Zhejiang army.”
“I’ve taken the liberty of issuing an official document in the name of Suzhou Prefecture to accept their donations. The silver has been converted into banknotes. Here is the document transferring their donations to your Zhejiang army, along with all the banknotes. I’m returning them to you in full. As for the grain and fodder they’ve collected, I’ll arrange for it to be delivered to you in Shaoxing later.”
Shang Weichi kept his words concise, handing Zhu Ping’an an official document for the donation transfer and a box containing the banknotes.
Shang Weichi was truly adept at handling matters. By accepting the donations on behalf of Zhu Ping’an in the name of Suzhou Prefecture and formalising the transfer with an official document, he had effectively created a buffer for Zhu Ping’an and the Zhejiang army. He took on the risks associated with receiving such a large sum, ensuring that Zhu Ping’an and his army could accept the donations without any liability.
Even if political rivals scrutinised the matter with a magnifying glass, looking for the slightest fault, they would find no issue with Zhu Ping’an.
“Thank you, Prefect Shang, for your care. My thanks also to my colleagues and the people of Suzhou. This is a critical time for funds, so I won’t decline,” Zhu Ping’an said.
As the saying goes, “Before troops move, provisions come first.” Zhu Ping’an knew that, upon assuming the role of Governor of Zhejiang, his primary task in suppressing the Japanese pirates would be securing funds and provisions. With money in such high demand, he didn’t stand on ceremony. He accepted the document and box from Shang Weichi with both hands, sincerely expressing his gratitude.
The Zhejiang army currently numbered 2,000 men, each receiving a monthly stipend of one and a half taels of silver. That amounted to 3,000 taels a month, or 36,000 taels a year.
By this calculation, the 50,000 taels donated by the people of Suzhou would cover the army’s stipends for a year and a half.
Combined with the court’s allocations, Zhu Ping’an wouldn’t need to worry about the army’s stipends for at least two years.
The same applied to provisions.
A soldier consumed roughly one shi of grain per month. For 2,000 soldiers, that was 2,000 shi monthly, or 24,000 shi annually, not counting the warhorses. The 50,000 shi of grain and fodder donated by Suzhou would sustain the army and its horses for about a year and a half.
With the court’s provisions added, Zhu Ping’an wouldn’t need to worry about food and fodder for at least two years.
“Zihou, you’re in a rush to travel, so we won’t delay you further. We wish you a smooth journey and trust that, with your talents, you’ll achieve great things in Zhejiang. The next time we meet, I’m sure you’ll have accomplished even more,” Shang Weichi said, aware of Zhu Ping’an’s need to hurry. After Zhu Ping’an accepted the document and banknotes, he clasped his hands in farewell.
“Wishing Lord Zhu a smooth journey and great success!” the other officials echoed, clasping their hands in salute.
“Thank you, Prefect Shang, and thank you, colleagues. I’m grateful for your kind words,” Zhu Ping’an returned the gesture, expressing his thanks.
Under the farewell salutes of Prefect Shang and the others, Zhu Ping’an’s convoy set off again. However, before reaching the city gate, they had to stop once more.
The road ahead was completely blocked by the common people.
There’s no such thing as a secret in this world. As Zhu Ping’an’s convoy began its journey, neighbours and passersby noticed. Word spread quickly, and soon, many citizens learned that Zhu Ping’an was departing for Shaoxing to take up his post as Governor of Zhejiang. The earlier commotion caused by Prefect Shang’s farewell, combined with the slight delay, allowed even more people to hear the news.
Upon learning this, many citizens spontaneously came to see him off. Old and young, carrying baskets of food and pots of wine, their numbers grew rapidly, clogging the road to the city gate.
“Lord Zhu, stay! Without you, what will we do if the Japanese pirates return?”
“Lord Zhu, please stay! We in Suzhou will cover your army’s provisions and stipends. Don’t go to Zhejiang to be governor—stay here! We’ll petition the emperor to appoint you as Governor of Southern Zhili instead!”
“Lord Zhu, my family of thirteen owes you our lives. This basket of eggs is all I’ve saved up this month—please take it for you and your lady to nourish yourselves.”
“Don’t go, Lord Zhu, please stay!”
As Zhu Ping’an’s carriage approached, the crowd surged forward, shouting to persuade him to stay. Some offered baskets of food, others tugged at the carriage, and some wept, pleading. A few emotional citizens even knelt on the ground.
“Dear elders and fellow townsfolk, thank you for your kindness. I’ll keep it in my heart,” Zhu Ping’an said, stepping down from the carriage. He clasped his hands, thanking the crowd for their efforts to keep him and patiently explaining his departure, over and over.
“The young master is truly a great official. So many people can’t bear to see him go, crying and pleading for him to stay,” Hua’er, the baozi-faced maid, said, peeking through a slit in the carriage curtain at the fervent crowd, her voice filled with awe.
“Giggle, Aunt Hua’er, you’re still calling him ‘young master’? You should call him ‘husband’ or ‘lord’ now,” Qin’er teased, covering her mouth as she laughed at Hua’er’s slip.
“Hehe, if Hua’er isn’t used to it, just call him ‘Master’,” Li Shu said, her eyes crinkling with a smile.
“Mm, ‘Master’ sounds good,” Hua’er nodded eagerly.
“The Master is truly a great official. He’s only been here for less than half a year, yet they’re so reluctant to let him go,” Hua’er said, gazing at the crowd passionately pleading for Zhu Ping’an to stay, her voice brimming with pride.
“Of course Brother Zhu is a great official. Though he’s been here less than half a year, he saved Suzhou City and their lives. Their reluctance isn’t just about missing him—they’re worried that without him, other officials won’t have his ability to protect them. Just look at the tragedy in nearby Jiaxing City,” Li Shu said, seeing the situation far more clearly than Hua’er.
“Right, Miss is spot-on. I heard from Aunt Wang in the kitchen that Jiaxing City was occupied by Japanese pirates for a month. The people there suffered terribly—tens of thousands were killed by the pirates, especially the wealthy, who were nearly wiped out. Ordinary households had all their valuables looted. One misstep, and entire families were slaughtered. Many women were violated by the pirates, and when they retreated, they abducted over ten thousand people from the city, mostly women,” Qin’er said, recalling Aunt Wang’s words, her face sombre.
“Thanks to the Master, Suzhou’s people were spared. The pirates were targeting Suzhou, but the Master fought to the death to defend the city, saving its hundreds of thousands of residents,” Qin’er added.
