24. The Consumption of the Main Ships Was Remarkably Great

The next morning, Wen Tianxiang rose early for breakfast, but noticed Zhang Xun was absent. When he asked after him, the steward explained that Zhang Xun had gone into the city to inquire about the logistics of the supply ships traveling to Xiangyang.

Good heavens, this man was truly treating his brother’s affairs as his own top priority.

The realization was so overwhelming that Wen Tianxiang set down the bowl he had been holding. The Job’s tears porridge inside was delicious, but he felt so moved that he had no appetite left.

They had been complete strangers, meeting for the first time, yet Zhang Xun was so devoted, serving him as if he were his own elder brother.

Tears welled up—truly, they did. He had never associated with such a man before; he had simply lacked the good fortune.

Completely unaware of Wen Tianxiang’s inner turmoil, Zhang Xun had already reached the city. Because he was inquiring about critical military intelligence, he could not simply send a servant; he had to handle it himself.

Prefect Shi was currently facing the final test of his tenure: the impending autumn harvest and the collection of autumn taxes. Once the taxes were gathered, he would be free to pack up and leave. Fortunately, he had not yet departed; otherwise, Zhang Xun would not have known how to approach his successor, Prefect Zhao.

Publicly, the stated reason for his inquiry was that his brother’s classmate, the top scholar Wen, wished to return to his home in Jiangxi and hoped to find passage on an official vessel. Privately, however, he sought to understand the attrition rates of the supply ships to calculate a multi-year average.

With the conflict between the Song and the Mongols dragging on for decades, Changzhou had frequently dispatched grain and armaments to Xiangyang. The historical data would be relatively accurate and reliable.

Upon hearing that he would be helping the top scholar Wen return home, Prefect Shi became quite enthusiastic and declared his intention to visit Wen Tianxiang. After all, how did scholars build their reputations if not through mutual flattery and reciprocal praise?

Prefect Shi, still hoping to secure a favorable future appointment, was eager to interact with Wen Tianxiang so he could boast about it later. It was the same logic as saying, "I once shared a meal with Wen Tianxiang," much like saying, "I once shared a meal with Ma Boyong." Of course, compared to Wen Tianxiang, Ma Boyong was a bit less significant—primarily because there were no more top scholars in the future, let alone ones who could become prime ministers.

"Go ahead, then. I will send a servant to inform them first," Shi said. As for the supply ships, he told Zhang Xun to inspect whatever he liked; once the official documents arrived from Yangzhou or Yingzhou, Changzhou would handle the dispatch.

Zhang Xun summoned Chujiu, who was now in charge of the other servants, to relay the news back home. Meanwhile, led by one of the Prefect’s aides, Zhang Xun went to review the historical records of the state’s supply fleet.

There were several extreme cases he could disregard entirely—for instance, when the Song army suffered massive defeats and the ships were either captured by the Yuan forces or trapped in the heat of battle, resulting in total loss. Such events were unavoidable.

Another common occurrence was the local authorities in Xiangyang commandeering the ships upon arrival. For example, when Meng Gong led his forces to recover Xiangyang, he needed to build a pontoon bridge between Xiangyang and Fancheng, so he detained all the supply ships from Changzhou, issued a receipt to the crew, and sent them home on foot. This, too, was force majeure and was excluded from the data.

Then there were the weather factors. In some years, the Yangtze River surged, and since the supply ships were flat-bottomed vessels with a draft of only half a meter, they could barely withstand any wind or waves. On two occasions near Hukou in Jiujiang, large waves had capsized half the fleet.

After reviewing over a hundred records, Zhang Xun realized that the route from Changzhou to Xiangyang was truly treacherous. Nearly half of the supply ships failed to return to Changzhou safely; no wonder those conscripted for the service had wept so bitterly. Transporting military supplies to the front lines was a life-or-death gamble.

Even for those that did return, the loss rate was often over fifteen percent. Once on the water, human life was no longer in one's own hands, whether at sea or on the river.

*Assuming a ship carries two hundred piculs, how many should I prepare?*

Furthermore, the supply ships in Changzhou were indeed ready. The grain and linen required for the Xiangyang front had already been collected during the previous summer tax levy—a process that had driven the commoners of Changzhou to sell their own children. Everything was set; they only awaited the military orders and the official seals to set sail for Xiangyang.

Zhang Xun carefully copied the key data, folded the paper, and handed it to Chujiu to be tucked into a box before heading home. As he left the archives, he heard that Prefect Shi had already skipped off to the Zhang residence to visit Wen Tianxiang.

In theory, one should send a calling card and arrange a time first, but that was merely theoretical. In reality? One only needed to ask Zhang Huaimin about that. After all, he had already been asleep when Su Shi pounded on his gate, shouting that Huaimin was not yet asleep either.

Since Prefect Shi had already set off, Zhang Xun was in no rush and decided to pick up a few things in the city. His brother, Zhang Cheng, had sent back a hundred bolts of kudzu cloth from Hangzhou, and his mother was making mosquito nets. He needed some bronze hooks for the curtains and reed mats to hang outside the windows for shade.

These were inexpensive items, and when he spoke to the local merchant guild leader, the man promised they would be ready and delivered to the Zhang estate by the next day.

"Is this guild leader a connection of our family?" Zhang Xun wondered, finding the man familiar. When he asked Chujiu, he was told that the man was actually named Zhang.

Ah, no wonder he was so enthusiastic. That was fine. Zhang Xun gave careful instructions and even pulled out a sample; his mother wanted bronze hooks in a sweet-osmanthus pattern, not just any kind. Zhang Xun didn't care much, as long as they were hooks.

Just as he was finishing, he heard someone calling his name. He turned and saw his cousin, Li Rang. He had barely returned to Wuxi for a few days of peace when the lad showed up again. After dismissing the guild leader, Zhang Xun cupped his hands in greeting.

He wished it were his beautiful older cousin; if it were her, he might have been willing to be a husband to her for a lifetime.

Li Rang invited Zhang Xun onto his boat and even reached out to hook arms with him—a common gesture of camaraderie among men in those days. Zhang Xun barely held back an eye-roll. It was sweltering hot; he wasn't a young lady, so why the physical affection?

"My good cousin, why so distant?" Li Rang persisted, grinning.

"I am not. Don't talk nonsense," Zhang Xun muttered, avoiding an eye-roll only because they were in the middle of the market, surrounded by locals.

"Is my aunt well?"

"Naturally, she is."

They chatted idly as they made their way back. When they reached the small dock outside the villa, Prefect Shi’s boat and half of his entourage were already moored there. Seeing Zhang Xun approach, the Prefect waved. When Li Rang asked why there were guests at the house, Zhang Xun explained that Wen Tianxiang was visiting.

Much like Prefect Shi’s reaction upon hearing the news, Li Rang immediately let go of Zhang Xun’s arm and leaped onto the shore, rushing ahead.