Chapter Thirty-One: The Road Paved with Gold

Traveling north from Nanchang along the Gan River for less than a hundred li, one enters the expanse of Pengli Marsh, known to later generations as Poyang Lake. Yuzhang Commandery corresponds to present-day Jiangxi Province, a land of mountains and hills, with only the region around Nanchang offering a stretch of plain known as the Poyang Lake Basin, the most important grain-producing area of Jiangxi.

Yet, in the Han dynasty, the south was far less developed than the north, largely due to its lower productive capacity. Both agricultural techniques and farming tools lagged significantly behind those of the north, resulting in most of the southern regions being extremely backward. South of the Yangtze River—including what would later become Guangdong, Guangxi, Jiangxi, Fujian, and Hainan—remained largely wild and untamed. Only a few areas, such as Hunan and northeastern Zhejiang, showed a hint of development.

The state of Yuzhang Commandery was only marginally better than those of Guangdong, Guangxi, Fujian, and Hainan, but not by much. Shen Chen stood upon the deck, guarded by his elder brother Shen Zhong, gazing out at the scenery on both shores.

All around, towering trees blocked out the sun. The future Poyang Lake Basin was then covered by dense primeval forests. In the distance, mountains rose in succession, the cries of apes and the roars of tigers echoing without cease.

Occasionally, herds of Asian elephants and groups of crocodiles could be seen frolicking in the swamps by the shore, as if it were a primordial age of wilderness.

In truth, south of the Yangtze in those days, not to mention elephants and crocodiles, even rhinos, river porpoises, and peacocks were common around the Gan River and Poyang Lake. There were very few settlements on either bank; what would later become Duchang County was then but a small fishing village.

The fleet moved grandly forward amid the surging river, slowly advancing from afternoon until dusk. At this hour, the vast expanse of Poyang Lake, as wide as the sea, whipped up wild winds that sent the fleet speeding ahead.

Chaisang County, which would later become Jiujiang City, lay about a hundred and twenty kilometers from Nanchang. With the help of the wind, the fleet, having set out the previous day, arrived at the Chaisang docks by morning.

Dozens of massive cargo ships were moored at the docks—these were the vessels that the wealthy merchant intended to use for transporting goods back to Sichuan.

After disembarking at Chaisang, Deng Hong brought Shen Chen ashore to call upon this merchant.

When the two entered the guesthouse, they found not the fat, gold-bedecked image they had imagined, but a group of young men in their twenties or thirties, all dressed simply in coarse cloth robes, with refined and scholarly appearances.

At that moment, they were resting in the guesthouse. Upon learning of Deng Hong’s arrival, they came out to greet him.

The leader was surnamed Zhou, named Zhou Lin, about twenty-four or twenty-five years old, thin of face and not ill-favored in appearance. After exchanging greetings with Deng Hong, he smiled and said, “Brother Deng, fortune is on your side. One of our ships ran aground and was damaged in Jiangdong, delaying us by half a month. Otherwise, we might already be in Jiangling by now.”

Shen Chen, standing to the side, asked in surprise, “Does it really take half a month to travel from Jiangdong to Jiangling by boat?”

“It depends on your luck,” Zhou Lin replied. “With a favorable wind, a ship can cover four hundred li a day and reach its destination in four or five days. Against the wind, it only manages one or two hundred li, taking eight or nine days. If luck is especially poor and heavy rains fall, it can take half a month. The route between Jiangdong and Jingzhou is fairly smooth; entering Shu is the real challenge—it might take two or three months.”

“Why is that?” Shen Chen inquired with curiosity.

Seeing the child’s eager questioning, Zhou Lin explained patiently, “Because the upper reaches of the river run through narrow terrain, the current is swift, and ships move very slowly. As the saying goes, ‘It is easy to leave Shu, hard to enter Shu.’ The Jiangzhou region is also prone to torrential rains; if you’re unlucky, floods can break out, destroying ships and costing lives.”

“I see. Thank you for enlightening me, sir,” Shen Chen said, quietly committing this intelligence to memory. Perhaps, like Zhuge Liang, he would one day spend the latter part of his life in Sichuan.

Zhou Lin said, “Now that everyone has gathered, we plan to set out tomorrow. What do you think, Brother Deng?”

Deng Hong replied, “I leave it entirely in your capable hands, brother.”

After a few more polite exchanges, the two took their leave of the guesthouse. On the way back, Shen Chen asked Deng Hong about Zhou Lin’s background.

Deng Hong told him he was not clear on the specifics, only that this fleet belonged to a partnership of five great families from Yizhou, with five people in charge. The Zhou family had invested the most, so Zhou Lin oversaw external affairs.

Shen Chen understood—they were like shareholders in a company. For trade ventures spanning three thousand kilometers between Jiangdong and Sichuan, the profits from a single trip could reach astronomical sums—naturally, no single family could monopolize such an enterprise.

It was perfectly normal for several powerful clans to join forces. Such cases, however, were rare—these were troubled times, after all.

Though the profits from a single journey seemed immense, the risks posed by the exactions of feudal lords and the hazards of war and disaster meant that even a magnate like Mi Zhu might not be able to bear them. Only the top aristocratic families of Yizhou, Jingzhou, and Yangzhou had the strength to undertake such ventures.

The fleet finally set out the next day.

It was early winter, with a fine drizzle falling from the sky, and in Jiangdong, the prevailing wind in winter was the northwest, not the southeast. Aside from the rare case of the Battle of Red Cliffs, most winter voyages toward Jingzhou meant traveling against the wind.

But merchants cared little for such things. As long as there was profit to be made, they would brave any risk, even if blades rained from the sky.

Otherwise, if merchants never traveled in winter, Lu Meng would not have been able to disguise his crossing of the Yangtze as a merchant expedition, and Guan Yu could not have been caught unawares by a winter offensive against Jingzhou.

Struggling against wind and waves, the fleet made its way forward. The middle and lower reaches of the Yangtze were wide and level, favorable for navigation; though they journeyed against the wind, with oarsmen propelling the boats, it took them about five days to reach Shaxian County.

Their progress was hardly swift, for Shaxian County corresponds to modern Wuhan. They had set out from Chaisang—now Jiujiang—a distance of just over two hundred kilometers, taking five days in all. At a daily pace of forty to fifty kilometers, it was a rather slow journey.

The old patriarch of Huangmenting village disembarked at Shaxian. Zhou Lin and his companions were bound for Sichuan, following the Yangtze all the way. They could have traveled together to Yiling, which was only a bit over two hundred kilometers from Xiangyang.

The problem was, if they continued along the river, they would have to detour around Dongting Lake. The journey from Shaxian to Yiling would take nearly half a month. It made more sense to disembark at Shaxian and travel by land—covering even just twenty kilometers a day, they could reach Xiangyang in ten days.

Shaxian County was one of the fourteen counties of Jiangxia, established by King Xuan of Chu during the Warring States. The city stood on the west bank of the Yangtze, south of the mouth of the Mian River, guarding the confluence of the Yangtze and Han rivers.

At a glance, Shen Chen saw the strategic terrain: steep cliffs beside the city, watchtowers and high ramparts atop the heights, and other defensive works—clearly a place easy to defend but hard to attack.

No wonder Sun Quan’s repeated assaults on Jingzhou met defeat at Shaxian; the geography here allowed Huang Zu’s navy to hold firm against Sun Quan’s superior forces.

The old patriarch from Huangmenting disembarked with his people at the docks outside Shaxian’s city walls. As the main junction of the Han and Yangtze rivers, it was a vital hub for north–south trade in peaceful times.

It was common for merchant caravans to pass through, but it was rare to see a whole migration of over a thousand men, women, and children.

When the soldiers outside the city saw such a large migration force appear at the docks, they came to inquire.

Deng Hong, as Shen Chen had instructed, told them they were members of the Deng clan from Xinye, descendants of the founding general Deng Yu, and hoped to meet with Huang Zu, the prefect of Jiangxia.

Upon hearing this, Huang Zu hesitated briefly but decided to grant an audience. The Deng clan had fallen on hard times, with almost no officials left in the court and greatly diminished influence.

Back in the days of Empress Deng, the clan suffered its first decline, with many forced to migrate and even give up their ancestral land. Large numbers fled.

During Emperor Huan’s reign, their fortunes improved slightly with the emergence of Empress Deng Mengnu.

But when Deng Mengnu angered Liu Zhi and was deposed, the clan suffered a second, even greater decline, losing its aristocratic status entirely.

Though Huang Zu himself was not of noble birth and, as Prefect of Jiangxia, was, under the “Three Mutuals Law,” certainly not a member of the local Huang clan, he was still the regional governor, a high official of two thousand bushels’ rank. The Dengs, for all their noble lineage, were now so diminished that they hardly merited an audience.

At first, Huang Zu was reluctant to meet them. But he reconsidered—since they had come to call, he might as well see what they wanted. It wouldn’t take much time.

Thus, Deng Hong and Shen Chen, led by soldiers, entered the city and proceeded to Huang Zu’s residence.

After passing through the front courtyard, they reached the main hall. The houses of great Han families were always arranged thus: a front yard, a central courtyard, and, at its end, a large central hall for receiving guests, with the living quarters behind.

Huang Zu was already waiting in the central hall, seated in the place of honor. When he saw Deng Hong and a child come to pay their respects, he frowned slightly.

Formal visits did not usually include family members; only after a relationship was established would one bring kin. Though bringing a child on a first meeting was not exactly a breach of etiquette, Huang Zu did not consider himself acquainted with Deng Hong.

“Deng Hong pays his respects to the Prefect. I offer a small token of respect.”

Deng Hong entered, cupped his hands, and handed a small wooden box to a nearby soldier.

The soldier brought the box forward and, lifting a corner, revealed several luminous pearls, other pearls, and some gold. Huang Zu’s frown immediately vanished, and he laughed heartily. “So it is a scion of a noble house! Please, be seated.”

“Thank you, Prefect,” said Deng Hong, sitting with Shen Chen at one of the mats.

Once they were seated, Huang Zu asked, “May I ask, what brings you here?”

Deng Hong replied, “Prefect, my ancestors were of the Deng clan of Xinye. Long ago, due to imperial censure, we were forced to leave our home and go to Xuzhou. Now that the realm is in chaos, only Jingzhou remains tranquil, so our clan wishes to return to Xinye to escape calamity.”

“I see,” Huang Zu nodded, understanding Deng Hong’s intent.

Deng Hong continued, “But to return so suddenly, we do not know what awaits us at home. Therefore, we seek your favor, hoping the Prefect might speak well of us before Governor Liu, that we might find a way forward.”

“Well...” Huang Zu glanced at the box and shook his head. “Governor Liu is eager for talent. If you possess learning, I can recommend you without difficulty. But...”

Deng Hong smiled. “No need for concern, Prefect. Though the Dengs of Xinye have fallen on hard times, we are of the main line and brought many books when we left home. It was only imperial persecution that kept us from office. If the Governor wishes to test us, we should have no trouble.”

“Hm...” Huang Zu thought for a moment and said, “Very well, I shall write a letter of recommendation for you.”

“Thank you, Prefect,” Deng Hong said, exchanging a glance with Shen Chen—things were proceeding smoothly.