Chapter 49: The Black Market of the Great Song Dynasty

A large group of scholars hurriedly disembarked from the boat and rushed toward the city, but after barely half an hour, their pace slowed more and more.

“I can’t go on; we’d better rest for a while.”

At last, someone could not help but suggest a break.

In just half an hour, their brows were beaded with sweat and they were panting heavily. Had Shen Shi not been walking alongside them, one might have suspected they had just finished running a marathon.

“Dear brother, shall we take a rest as well?” gasped Kong Xueli, suggesting the same.

“Very well,” Shen Shi agreed, seeing everyone exhausted and out of breath. Glancing at the sky, it was clear they had no hope of reaching the city before the gates closed.

This was soon proven true. When they set out again and arrived at Guobei County north of the Qiantang River, the city gates were already shut.

The group of scholars tried calling out at the gates, but regardless of their status or position, there was no chance the guards would open up for them. Thus...

“Brother Liu, why don’t you give it a try?” Among so many of them, the only one with any standing was Liu Yuanze, a licentiate scholar.

“Well... all right, I’ll give it a go,” he agreed, unable to resist everyone’s urging.

“I am Liu Yuanze, son of a former censor, and these are my fellow scholars. We were delayed on the road and could not enter the city in time. Might the gate be opened to let us through?” he called out.

“What do you mean, open the gate? Don’t you know the imperial regulations?” came a voice from within, impatient.

“How dare you!” The guard’s impatience instantly angered several of the group, including Lady Cao Jinhua and her attendants. Cao Jinhua, though not a princess, was used to never being turned away, not even at the imperial palace itself. Yet now, she was being refused entry just to rest and change her clothes. How dare some lowly soldier deny her at the gate! She was on the verge of revealing her identity and commanding them to open up.

But before she could speak, the other scholars erupted first.

“Outrageous! The Song Dynasty honors its scholars—aren’t you afraid we’ll report this to the authorities?”

“This is rebellion! Complete insubordination! How dare some petty guard speak to scholars this way!”

Everyone began to voice their indignation, each more aggrieved than the last, as if they were chastising an act of grave insubordination. None thought to blame themselves. Even Wang Chao, Ma Han, and the others, though troubled, could only look on helplessly.

Bao Zheng, for his part, felt their complaints misplaced, but what could he do? The anger of the masses is not easily withstood.

Their outburst frightened the soldiers inside the gate. Reporting them to the authorities, or even just to their superiors, could cost them dearly. And though these soldiers could intimidate commoners, they dared not offend the scholars.

Yet to open the gate was equally out of the question.

As the standoff dragged on, a scholar suddenly noticed a cluster of lights in the distance.

“Look, over there! It’s ablaze with lanterns—must be a sizable town or marketplace. Why don’t we head there, change into dry clothes, rest for the night, and hire carriages to return in the morning?”

A bustling night market? Was the Song Dynasty so prosperous that night markets were common?

Shen Shi followed the direction indicated and indeed saw not far away a place aglow with lights, teeming with life and activity.

Yet the soldiers within the gate, hearing the scholars talk of going to a market outside the city, grew anxious. An older soldier hurriedly called out, “Gentlemen, please! The laws of the court are strict—I dare not disobey. But I do have a few lanterns here. You could spend the night at Lanke Temple.”

“Who wants to climb a mountain at this hour? Let’s go and explore—since it’s late, we can visit this market and return to the city at first light,” one of the scholars insisted.

The more the soldiers advised against it, the more determined the scholars became.

“We’ll all go. Let’s go together,” echoed several exhausted scholars.

“Gentlemen, you mustn’t! Truly, you mustn’t! That’s no ordinary night market—that’s a ghost market!” the anxious soldier blurted out, heedless of how ominous it sounded.

“A ghost market?”

A collective shudder ran through the group. Could their luck be so dire—first a water demon on the river, now a ghost market outside the city?

“Look at that place—what do you see?” someone asked, and the scholars all compared notes on what they were witnessing.

“Brother Bao, what do you see there?” Shen Shi asked, frowning and pointing toward the distant lights.

When it came to matters supernatural, Bao Zheng was the expert.

Bao Zheng had been studying the scene with a furrowed brow. Upon hearing Shen Shi’s question, he replied, “There is indeed a night market there. It’s very lively—lanterns, stalls—it appears busier than the city itself.”

He then fell silent, pondering.

“What’s wrong, Brother Bao?” Kong Xueli asked anxiously, noticing Bao Zheng’s hesitation.

After a moment’s thought, Bao Zheng shared his view: “Why would there be a night market in the wilderness? It’s suspicious—likely a smuggler’s black market.”

That was his judgment. With the Song Dynasty’s booming commerce, the court relied heavily on trade, and with prosperity came inevitable smuggling. Local gentry and magnates often set up unlicensed markets beyond the court’s control.

“So that’s it.”

“Who cares if it’s a black market? Since we’ve come across it, why not go and have a look? I hear you can find rare curiosities there. Besides, it’s too damp to spend the night in the wild, and we can’t get into the city. Does anyone really want to climb a mountain to the temple at night?” a scholar suggested.

Unable to enter the city, faced with a black market, what choice did they have?

As for Lanke Temple...

Best to ignore that option. Though Shen Shi and his companions were not afraid of ghosts, and the temple now housed many monks, he had no desire to hike up there in the dark.

So the scholars set off toward the black market, while the soldiers inside the city grew frantic. After handing out lanterns, the older soldier hurriedly instructed his fellows, “Quick, lower me down in the basket—I must go inform the abbot!”

Without hesitation, they fetched a bamboo basket and thick rope and lowered the old soldier down from the gate.

The black market outside the city was indeed run by local gentry in collusion with certain others. Among the locals, Lanke Temple enjoyed the highest prestige and greatest influence.

The monks themselves were adept at finance and rarely missed out on such ventures.

Thus, the old soldier hurriedly slid down the other side of the wall and rushed off to deliver his warning.

...

“Hey, brother, do you think that really is a ghost market?” Kong Xueli asked in a low voice as they set out toward the black market.

“Oh? Brother Kong, are you a student of the supernatural?” Gongsun Ce inquired.

“Yes, I’ve read a few strange tales lately. In these wild parts, one can’t help but worry,” Kong Xueli admitted with some apprehension.