Refusing to Unload Makes the Boat Hard to Pull

Ah, grounding is nothing out of the ordinary.

With the New Year just passing, even in the Jiangdong region, this is the dry season. Even if it snows, it cannot replenish much water—completely incomparable to the plum rain season, which can dump 200 millimeters of rain in a single day.

Besides, over the past two years, the imperial court has waged wars consecutively, consuming the vast majority of the state's resources for military purposes while long neglecting the livelihood of the common people. In the past, they would have organized corvée labor and raised funds to dredge river channels and repair water conservancy projects. But where can such money or men be found now?

Deviation slightly from the main shipping lane, combined with a ship of deep draft and a patch of muddy shoals, and getting stuck head-on is no small matter.

You just find people to tow it and pull the vessel out.

However, it is probably too late today; night is falling. While labor is available, finding people familiar with the local river conditions on such short notice is impossible. Tomorrow, I will help you find some men, accompanied by the imperial court's naval soldiers, to pull it together.

Liu Shiyong is clearly not encountering a grounding for the first time—who told him to mix a large number of seagoing vessels into his naval forces? They already draw a deep draft, and now they are laden with massive amounts of troops and baggage; it would be a miracle if they didn't run aground.

At worst, this time the grounded vessel happens to be carrying gold. Who would dare to rob the reward money meant for an army of over one hundred thousand men? Aren't they afraid of being torn limb from limb by the imperial forces?

Having dispatched a messenger to report to the central army and organized the soldiers to securely guard the stranded ship, Liu Shiyong set his mind at ease.

Seeing that he was not worried, Zhang Xun was even less so, and even asked if he would like to go to the Zhang family estate for food and drink. The ships had nothing, but the city was filled with singers, dancers, and exquisite delicacies.

Consider it a favor sold to us by Liu Shiyong, a token of gratitude for releasing all the local townsfolk. Liu Shiyong hesitated for a moment, thinking there really was nothing major at hand, and ultimately agreed.

Not only did he come himself, but he also brought along a large group of personal commanders and subordinate naval officers trailing behind. One guest is easily fed, two are just as well; a few more people make no difference.

As for the garrison commander left behind, Zhang Xun also had his servants prepare a banquet and send it directly to the ship, telling the commissioner to enjoy it to the fullest.

It is a pity that the infantry generals Zhang Shijie and Wang Anjie have already reached Benniu and are too far away; otherwise, they could have all dined together. Liu Shiyong is already around forty, and a lifetime of soldiering makes him look somewhat weathered. Yet when holding beauties in his arms, his bearing was still remarkably youthful.

There are no grapes in winter; if there were, he would undoubtedly have staged the romantic scene of beauties peeling grapes for him to eat by night.

Some of the other officers came from the palace guards, while others originated from the Zhejiang East navy. Upon being introduced by Liu Shiyong and learning that this was the young hero who had wrestled with an evil flood dragon for a day and a night, they all stepped forward to offer him toasts.

It is not that they were in awe of Zhang Xun’s martial prowess; after all, the Chinese are accustomed to paying homage to whatever statues or Buddhas they encounter. What if it works? What if it proves efficacious? Who knows, maybe he will bless us to clash with the Mongols and emerge victorious!

Holding his wine cup, Zhang Xun felt everyone was exceedingly enthusiastic, pressing him to drink, so he had no choice but to drain several full cups without refusing any.

Hosts and guests enjoyed themselves immensely, and Liu Shiyong and his men did not return to sleep on the ships. Since the canal is a single waterway, once the rear naval fleet sets sail, they can simply board their vessels right beside the city. Didn't they leave a detachment behind? Someone will bring the ships up to them.

Oh, by the way, where is that ship of gold?

Leave a thousand soldiers for protection, and you, Brother Zhang, can send men to pull the ship out; they will naturally catch up. In any case, the army's direction of advance is fixed: passing through the canal, entering the Yangtze River, and heading to Jinghu to fight Bayan.

Understood, understood. Liu Shiyong even issued an official dispatch to Zhao Rujian, asking the local government to assist with the transport. To put it bluntly, it was a free ride using the labor of the Changzhou local government; the main army would not halt its march specifically for this trivial matter.

Early in the morning, Zhang Xun invited Liu Shiyong and the others to do as they pleased. Acting as the representative of the gentry, he once again accompanied Zhao Rujian to see Jia Sidao off. He ended up standing outside the flower pavilion for an hour and at the dock for more than another hour.

Suddenly, he felt that being an official was rather meaningless; there are always superiors outranking you, and when you encounter them, you have to stand at attention outside. Standing for two or three hours now might still be considered acceptable. If one were truly in Hangzhou, a grand morning court session would require standing for three or four hours. For rituals worshiping Heaven and the like, one would probably have to stand all day—truly a test of physical endurance.

Upon returning to the old residence in Chungui Lane, the household servants reported that Commissioner Liu and his party had already departed. Zhang Xun thought about it and realized it made sense: Jia Sidao had set off more than two hours ago, and the rear guard was nearly arriving; as commanders, they naturally had to board their ships.

Very well, Zhang Xun then summoned Zhang Xi. "Your relatives live near the place where the ship ran aground. Find someone familiar with the water conditions and help Liu Shiyong pull the official boat out."

Zhang Xi pondered for a moment and asked how deep the ship's draft was, how much cargo it carried, and how much human labor would be required. All these had to be calculated in advance before summoning people.

"You're asking me? Who should I ask?"

"Then let's go take a look together." Sure enough, Liu Shiyong had dispatched a junior official along with two squads of naval soldiers and a dozen boats of various sizes to guard the stranded official vessel.

After inspecting the scene for a while, Zhao Rujian also sent a family retainer to inquire how many laborers needed to be recruited to pull the towropes. Everyone assumed this was no difficult task—merely a grounded boat after all.

Up to this point, nobody considered it a serious problem.

However, complications arose immediately. To pull the ship out of the mud pit, it was first necessary to unload the several hundred thousand taels of gold and silver from the vessel, utilizing the buoyancy of the ship and water to float it free from the deep mire.

Only then could a workforce be organized to haul and drag the vessel back into the main shipping channel. At most, it would be a matter of a day or two—no trouble at all.

Outside, Zhang Xi summoned two village elders, who also confirmed that this was simply a collapsed riverbank mud pit; the imperial troops were unfamiliar with the channel, which was why they had stumbled into it.

Yet that junior official declared categorically: Unloading the ship is strictly forbidden!

Why? Because the hundreds of thousands of taels of gold and silver on board were bestowed by the current Emperor from his inner treasury to reward the various armies. Presently, the outlaws of Taihu Lake are rampant, and the countryside is far from peaceful. Once the bullion leaves the vessel, there is a risk that security might slacken.

If the gold and silver are lost, who will take responsibility?

Hey, you fellow...

My family possesses tens of millions in floating wealth, and our lands are worth tens of millions as well—a multi-millionaire like me cares about your mere hundreds of thousands of taels of gold and silver? Zhao Rujian is the Prefect of Changzhou; is he going to rob the imperial silver and turn to banditry in the hills?

Despite these arguments, the junior official remained utterly immovable. He insisted that the local authorities summon two to three thousand laborers to push and pull simultaneously, claiming they would surely manage to drag the ship out.

This section of the canal is over a hundred meters wide; leaving aside how ropes over a hundred meters long are to be managed, where am I supposed to recruit three thousand laborers?

I am on terms of close brotherhood with your Commissioner Liu—don't be absurd, what kind of nonsense is this? If I weren't helping out a brother, I wouldn't have touched this chore in the first place.

Either you stay here and waste time, or you unload the cargo so everyone can briskly pull the ship out for you, and you can go follow Liu Shiyong to war.

The junior official simply closed his eyes; in any case, the locality must dispatch men to do the hauling, and unloading cargo was an absolute impossibility—don't even think about it.