When Suzhou and Huzhou prosper, the realm has enough grain.
Zhejiang had never lacked provisions. When Zhu Ping’an assumed the role of Zhejiang Governor, the Provincial Administrative Commissioner came to pay his respects and reported on Zhejiang’s fiscal situation. The province’s granaries held a staggering ninety thousand bushels of grain.
This was even after a mid-year flood had struck Zhejiang. In normal years, the granaries would hold at least double, if not triple, that amount.
As for salt, there was even less concern. Zhejiang had been a major producer of sea salt since ancient times, with countless salt flats dotting the region. The province boasted a county named “Haiyan” (Sea Salt County) famed for its salt production, and Haining County, formerly called “Yanguan” (Salt Official County). Along the coast, vast stretches of salt flats stretched as far as the eye could see.
The tribute salt of the Ming Dynasty came from Daishan in Zhejiang, known as Dai salt.
After the messenger departed, Zhu Ping’an drafted an official document, affixed his gubernatorial seal, and sent it to the Provincial Administrative Commissioner’s Office, ordering the dispatch of ten thousand bushels of grain and five hundred bushels of salt.
The transfer proceeded smoothly. The next day, the Commissioner arrived with the grain and salt, even adding an extra thousand bushels of grain and one hundred bushels of salt to account for potential losses during transport.
Shaoxing wasn’t far from Jiaxing, and the journey wouldn’t consume nearly that much, but this was a gesture of goodwill from the Commissioner. Zhu Ping’an had no reason to refuse. He thanked the Commissioner and accepted the provisions.
For this escort mission, Zhu Ping’an assigned a thousand Zhejiang troops, led by Liu Dadao and others, and personally oversaw the convoy.
With the Battle of Wangjiangjing looming, Zhu Ping’an had no intention of missing a campaign that would go down in history.
Moreover, the soldier disguised as a peddler had returned from northern Zhejiang the previous evening, reporting on his investigation of Douniu Pu and Fuchun Bay.
He hadn’t yet had the chance to probe the four locations in southern Zhejiang.
The peddler had roamed the streets of northern Zhejiang, thoroughly investigating both sites. Fuchun Bay showed no irregularities, but Douniu Pu yielded a major discovery.
While peddling in Douniu Pu, the soldier had visited an elderly woman’s home under the pretense of asking for water. During their conversation, he uncovered something significant.
The old woman lived alone in the village, her husband long deceased and her only daughter married off to another region.
She revealed that about ten days prior, the village head’s father had celebrated a grand birthday, hosting a lavish two-day banquet. The village head’s household had been flooded with dozens of relatives—far too many to accommodate.
As a result, many of these relatives had stayed in the homes of other villagers.
The old woman had assumed that after the festivities, the relatives had left.
But one day, while gathering dry branches for firewood, she returned late and was shocked to spot one of the village head’s relatives at the village entrance.
Despite her age, the old woman’s eyesight and hearing were sharp. She recognized the man immediately.
Wasn’t that the relative staying at Eryazi’s house? The birthday celebration had been over for days—why was he still here?
When the man saw her, he quickly lowered his head and slipped into Eryazi’s courtyard, avoiding her.
This odd encounter made the old woman suspicious. While sunning herself, gathering firewood, or collecting cow dung, she kept an eye on the village head’s household and the homes that had hosted his relatives. Her vigilance paid off—she noticed something.
Though the relatives kept a low profile and rarely showed their faces, she overheard unfamiliar voices.
She could distinguish the voices of the villagers, so these strange voices undoubtedly belonged to the village head’s relatives.
The birthday banquet had ended days ago, yet these relatives lingered…
Upon learning this, the disguised Zhejiang soldier, under the guise of peddling and trading trinkets for scraps, investigated several households. He noticed some villagers seemed uneasy, as if under coercion.
To avoid arousing suspicion, the soldier didn’t linger. Like a true peddler, he sold his goods, found no further business in the village, and left with his baskets.
He continued peddling through several more villages, traveling six or seven miles before hurrying back to report.
Upon receiving this intelligence, Zhu Ping’an immediately realized the village had a problem—a serious one.
The dozens of “relatives” at the village head’s father’s birthday were, in all likelihood, Japanese pirates. They had taken control of the village head’s household, and the claim that they “couldn’t fit and stayed with other villagers” was a pretext for controlling the villagers.
Dozens of pirates were more than enough to dominate the entire village.
No wonder the village had reported nothing—they were under the pirates’ control. How could they submit any reports?
The village’s location was critical, not far from Jiaxing city! The pirates’ covert control of this village had an obvious motive: they intended to use it as a springboard to plot against Jiaxing city!
Zhu Ping’an’s decision to personally escort the provisions to Jiaxing was driven by two goals: to participate in the Battle of Wangjiangjing and to uproot this pirate stronghold.
With the battle imminent, and the village’s proximity to both Jiaxing city and the main battlefield at Wangjiangjing, this threat had to be eliminated.
The nail had to be pulled out.
Zhu Ping’an packed his belongings, kissed his two little ones, and pressed a kiss to Li Shu’s forehead. “I’m off.”
“Brother Zhu, every moment you’re out there, remember we’re waiting for you at home. You *must* come back safely,” Li Shu said, clinging to his waist reluctantly, her voice soft.
“Don’t worry, I’m not giving you a chance to remarry. I’m not letting someone else live in my house, sleep with my wife, or raise my kids,” Zhu Ping’an teased, placing his hands on her shoulders to lighten the mood.
“Ugh, what nonsense are you spouting? Who’s talking about remarrying?” Li Shu playfully pummeled him with her fists, glaring at him with mock ferocity, baring her little tiger teeth. “Listen up, Zhu Ping’an. If anything happens to you, I’ll take the kids and find you in the afterlife. Let’s see if you dare be reckless! I, Li Shu, mean what I say!”
“Relax, relax. I’m the commander of an army—I won’t take risks. I’ve got countless soldiers protecting me,” Zhu Ping’an said, gently patting her back to reassure her.
“You’re not just a commander. You’re my husband, the father of our children. You’re our everything,” Li Shu said, hugging him tightly.
“I know. Wait for me to come back,” Zhu Ping’an said earnestly, breathing in the fragrance of her hair.
“We’ll be waiting,” Li Shu said, reluctantly letting go.
“Young Master—no, my Lord—I’ll be waiting for you too,” the steamed-bun-faced maid, Hua’er, said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, her cheeks flushed and her eyes filled with reluctance.
“Wait for me,” Zhu Ping’an said, ruffling Hua’er’s hair. He waved to Li Shu and the others, then turned and left.
