Chapter 53: Trying to Steal a Chicken, Only to Lose the Rice

Mid-August, autumn.

At Niuzhu Ferry in Danyang, Huang Gai stood by the riverbank, hand on his sword, gazing northward. The river shimmered under the sun, vast and empty, so much so that his impatience drove him to pace back and forth.

“Where are the people? Didn’t Gongjin say the folk from the far shore would be crossing over one after another these days? I’ve been here for three days and haven’t seen a single soul!” Huang Gai gritted his teeth in frustration.

“General, could it be that salt smugglers are sneaking salt across the river? Or perhaps someone from Xuzhou is profiting in secret, trading salt under the table?” his lieutenant Deng Dang ventured.

“Xuzhou?” Huang Gai narrowed his eyes, about to reply, when in the distance a skiff drew near—a scout he had dispatched to assess the situation.

After some time, the scout came ashore, hastily producing a sack of salt. “General, every village north of the river has salt, and not just any salt—refined salt, said to be produced by Chu Feng and named Snowflake Salt.”

He handed over the sack. Huang Gai opened it and was immediately stunned. The salt was pure, without a trace of impurity, as fine as river sand. Even the imperial court might not have enjoyed such quality.

“You say this salt is for common folk?”

“Yes, every household uses it. And this, I hear, is only the lowest grade. There are middle and top grades of Snowflake Salt, reserved for the powerful and wealthy alone.”

The scout marveled—the poorest people were eating such fine salt, and this was the worst quality. How remarkable must the best be?

“There’s even better salt?” Huang Gai was momentarily speechless. Then his eyes narrowed and his voice dropped. “This is bad—very bad. Remain here and stand guard. I must report to the lord at once.”

Without delay, he returned to camp, gathered his guards, and rode off.

—

The next day, at midday, outside Lingyang City west of Danyang.

Huang Gai arrived, and soon after, Sun Ce returned from the battlefield.

“Gongfu, why have you come here from Niuzhu in such haste? Don’t tell me the people north of the river have already begun to migrate south?” Sun Ce laughed heartily, hand on his sword.

Behind him, Zhou Yu smiled quietly, his expression one of calm calculation.

“My lord, migrate? Not a single soul has crossed south, nor will they, now or ever,” Huang Gai sighed.

“Not a single person? Why?” Sun Ce and Zhou Yu both showed surprise and curiosity.

“My lord, look at this,” Huang Gai produced the salt pouch from his belt, his face a mixture of anger and helplessness.

“What! This salt… so white and fine?” Zhou Yu raised an eyebrow, astounded. “Gongfu, where did this come from?”

“From the homes of every commoner north of the river. According to our scout, this refined salt is only the lowest grade. There are even higher grades. I fear our attempt to cut off Chu Feng’s salt supply has backfired—he’s developed this refined salt instead. Ah!” Huang Gai grew ever more agitated as he spoke.

Previously, their supply of salt to Chu Feng’s territory brought in a considerable income—enough to support the army. Now, all of that revenue was lost.

Zhou Yu: “???”

Sun Ce: “???”

“The people can eat salt of such quality?” Zhou Yu felt as if his mind was spinning. It was as if the emperor drove a Mercedes, but the common folk were already in Ferraris.

He frowned, pinched some salt, and tasted it. Worry clouded his face, for he saw further than Huang Gai. “My lord, this salt is far superior to the sea salt of our lands. If it enters our markets, I fear…”

“You mean Chu Feng intends to fight fire with fire?” Sun Ce snorted, displeased.

“Highly likely, my lord. Immediate orders must be given to intercept all merchants on the river and forbid trade. Set up multiple checkpoints to prevent salt smugglers from entering our territory,” Zhou Yu urged, eyes narrowing.

He had underestimated Chu Feng. This was a masterstroke—retaliation that turned their own tactic against them. He also wondered how such refined salt was produced.

“Gongfu, our western front is strained. You take charge of this. By any means necessary, do not let refined salt flow into our counties,” Sun Ce ordered directly.

“Yes!” Huang Gai replied. The matter was urgent; he merely took a sip of water and changed horses before hurrying back.

“My lord, the western front must be settled swiftly. We must defeat Zu Lang and the bandit Taishi Ci in Jing County, and seize Yuzhang quickly, just in case!” Zhou Yu said gravely.

Chu Feng, it seemed, was more formidable than he had imagined. In this secret contest, they had lost the initiative. Yuzhang had to be taken at once.

—

Several days later.

At the council hall in Shouchun.

Yan Xiang reported with a look of delight, “My lord, since the introduction of Snowflake Salt, the great families have been scrambling for it. Now, it is spreading widely through Xuzhou, Yanzhou, and Yuzhou.”

“With Snowflake Salt alone, we’ll make untold profits. In three years’ time, our granaries will be full and our armor and weapons complete.”

Chu Feng set down his document and looked up. “What news from Jiangdong?”

“Well… my lord, Jiangdong has already closed the river, with Huang Gai in charge, forbidding trade between the two sides. Very little Snowflake Salt is being smuggled in,” Yan Xiang replied.

“How bold—to cut off the river and forbid commerce? Sun Ce is still campaigning against Zu Lang—does he think I won’t bring my army to his doorstep?” Chu Feng slammed his hand on the table, his tone icy.

“My lord, our new territories are not yet stable, and the Sun clan still holds sway in the Jianghuai region. Now is not the time for war!” Yan Xiang hastily advised.

“Be at ease, I know what I’m doing. The most important things now are control of the river and the fate of Yuzhang. To start a war with Sun Ce now would be foolish. But that doesn’t mean he’s without worries,” Chu Feng replied coldly, a shadow passing across his face.

“Zhang Xun, Liang Gang—take all our river forces out of Lake Chao and into the Yangtze. Drill on the river every day. Also, build a fortified water camp at the mouth of Lake Chao.”

“Yes!” the two men responded, bowing.

“Le Jiu, Li Feng—you each take five thousand infantry to garrison Liyang and keep the troops in training. Stand opposite Huang Gai at Niuzhu, north and south.”

“Yes!” both answered.

“Also, spread word that Ji Ling will lead ten thousand infantry south from Wancheng, with Qiao Rui as vanguard leading five thousand from Lake Chao. I myself will lead over ten thousand to Liyang, attack Niuzhu, and go straight for Wu County!” Chu Feng said in a low voice. If it was a matter of strategy, he would see who would blink first.

“My lord, this feint is meant to force Sun Ce to turn his army?” Lu Su’s eyes narrowed shrewdly.

“No, no. The fighting at Danyang is at its peak—he won’t withdraw from there. The aim is only to mislead him so I can seize Yuzhang amid the chaos,” Chu Feng replied with a cold smile.

Seizing Yuzhang was essential before crossing the river for a direct assault.

“But my lord, the situation in Yuzhang is still uncertain. More importantly, we lack large warships to attack Yuzhang,” Liu Ye pointed out, frowning.

“Warships? Liu Biao has plenty in Jingzhou. Tomorrow I’ll depart for Jingzhou to borrow his ships,” Chu Feng said with a gentle laugh.

“My lord, do you have a way to make Liu Biao lend them?” Lu Su asked, surprised by Chu Feng’s confidence.

“Yesterday I intercepted a personal letter from Sun Ce to Cao Cao. With that in hand, Liu Biao will have no grounds to refuse.”