Chapter 82

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Zhao Shun walked along the moat outside the city walls, holding an electric gun, under the cover of night. The city was brightly lit, with the smell of wine and food wafting through the air. Outside the city, however, it was dark and filled with the sounds of frogs and insects.

There were no streetlights, so Zhao Shun had to rely on the dim moonlight, stumbling along the road. It had rained the day before, leaving puddles on the ground, and he accidentally stepped into a patch of mud.

Finally, a few dim lights appeared in the distance. A small yellow dog darted out but didn't bark; instead, it wagged its tail and sniffed around Zhao Shun's feet.

"Brother Zhao is back?" A figure emerged from a nearby shack—it was his neighbor, Old Liu. Old Liu's family, like Zhao Shun's, had fled from Shandong to the south. Last winter, the Tartars invaded the interior, advancing all the way into Shandong, even capturing Jinan. Several members of the royal family in Jinan were killed by the Tartars.

Zhao Shun was originally a blacksmith in Jinan, running a small iron shop. Life was good until the Tartars came. He managed to escape with his family, enduring great hardships on their journey south. They eventually arrived in Macheng, Huangzhou Prefecture, hoping to seek refuge with a distant relative, only to find that the relative had moved to Sichuan two years ago.

With no relatives to turn to and their money almost gone, they had no choice but to settle outside the city walls of Macheng, building a shack like the other refugees.

The area along the moat south of the city was filled with shacks, housing hundreds of refugees, forming a makeshift refugee village. The men worked in the city, doing all sorts of labor to earn a bit of money. The women did needlework or worked as day laborers in the countryside. The elderly and children begged on the streets, always needing food and drink to survive.

Zhao Shun's family of five included his wife and three children, all of whom were young. Despite his middle-aged appearance, Zhao Shun was only in his thirties. He had two daughters, aged nine and eight, and a four-year-old son.

Initially, Zhao Shun worked as a laborer, but later, he set up a simple blacksmith shop in his shack, doing some basic work. This was better than being a laborer, but it barely supported his family.

He had considered working in the city's blacksmith shops, but as an outsider, they were unwilling to hire him. If they did, it would only be as a junior apprentice, who received no pay. With a wife and children, he couldn't afford to do that.

Zhao Shun hoped to save some capital by working in the shack and then open his own shop. However, his son suddenly fell ill. He sought a doctor, but the medicine didn't help, and the family's savings were depleted.

Without money, he couldn't buy more medicine, and his son's illness worsened.

Zhao Shun was desperate. He remembered hearing about the Nine-Headed Bird and the two young masters who were skilled in suppressing bandits and using powerful firearms. Zhao Shun was familiar with firearms; his father had been a disciple of the famous firearms expert Zhao Shizhen, learning many advanced techniques, which he later passed on to Zhao Shun.

During his escape, Zhao Shun had brought two firearms from home: a Lu Mi gun and an electric gun, both of which he and his father had crafted together. These were his most valuable possessions in Macheng.

To get money for his son's medicine, Zhao Shun took the two guns to the Nine-Headed Bird's young masters, hoping to sell them. He had heard that they were interested in firearms, and one of them, Chunjiang, was the nephew of the Secretary of the Four Ministries, Li Gong, from a prominent family in Macheng.

Unfortunately, he left disappointed, having not even met them. He left the Lu Mi gun, hoping to see them the next day.

Zhao Shun was in a bad mood and only nodded in response to Old Liu.

Back in his shack, he found his wife crying by his son's bed.

"Is he still running a fever?"

"Yes, it seems to have worsened since we stopped the medicine. Husband, did you sell the gun?"

Zhao Shun shook his head, and his wife's face fell. "Didn't you say those two guns were treasures? Why did no one want them?"

"Treasures need someone to recognize their value," Zhao Shun replied. "I happened to meet them when they were busy, but they promised to see me tomorrow."

"But the child can't wait until tomorrow."

Zhao Shun squatted by his son's bed, his face dark. He was at a loss for words. A dose of medicine cost two fen, equivalent to a pound of pork, but he couldn't even afford a single fen. He had already borrowed from the other refugees, who had pooled their money to help him.

He knew they were all poor, with no food to spare. The men worked hard all day for just a few fen.

His wife began to cry, her sobs heart-wrenching.

Zhao Shun felt a sharp pain in his heart. He stood up, picked up the electric gun, and walked out of the shack.

"Where are you going?"

"To find money!" Zhao Shun said without turning back, his figure disappearing into the darkness.

He returned to the city, where, fortunately, despite the chaos elsewhere, Macheng was relatively peaceful. The city gates had been closed for a few days after the Lin family village was attacked by bandits, but they were now open again. The guards at the gate barely glanced at him, recognizing him as a refugee from the moat area, and let him in.

Zhao Shun had nowhere to go; he had no relatives or friends who would lend him money.

Finally, he gritted his teeth and entered the pawnshop at the crossroads.

"Sir, I want to pawn something." Zhao Shun walked into the shop, where a high counter stood in front of him. An old shopkeeper, wearing a melon-shaped hat, sat behind the counter, fiddling with an abacus.

The shopkeeper glanced at him and replied indifferently, "What are you pawning? Bring it over."

Zhao Shun placed the electric gun on the counter, unwrapped the cloth, revealing one large and six small barrels, the main barrel being the electric gun, and the six smaller ones being sub-barrels, along with a few other accessories.

The shopkeeper looked surprised and drawled, "A strange, broken firearm, five taels for a dead pawn!"

Zhao Shun's face turned red. "This isn't a broken firearm; it's the finest rear-loading gun, called the electric gun. It was invented by the famous firearms expert Zhao Shizhen and presented to Emperor Wanli, who praised it. It was once equipped to the imperial guards and is the finest firearm!"

The shopkeeper ignored him, raising an eyebrow. "Do you want to pawn it or not? Dead pawn or live pawn?"

"I want to pawn it, but this gun is very fine, far superior to a matchlock. The cost of production is three times that of a matchlock. The Ministry of Works spends at least five taels on materials and labor for a matchlock. If you buy one outside, it costs even more. The Nine-Headed Bird bought a batch of matchlocks for twenty taels each. My electric gun is far superior, costing at least ten taels in materials and labor. I want to live pawn it for ten taels and redeem it when I have the money."

The shopkeeper looked at him as if he were a joke. "This is a pawnshop, not the Nine-Headed Bird's militia. If you want to sell a matchlock, go to them. If you want to pawn, stop arguing. I'll give you one tael for a live pawn, or five taels for a dead pawn."

The shopkeeper was not ignorant; he was very familiar with firearms. The shop often received firearms from soldiers who were too poor to eat, along with their coats and swords.

Though he hadn't seen an electric gun before, he had heard of it. The gun looked well-maintained, and he knew it was valuable. However, in a pawnshop, the price was different.

Zhao Shun was angry but had no choice. His son needed medicine, and he couldn't wait. A live pawn for one tael, a dead pawn for five. He thought for a moment and decided, "I'll take the dead pawn."

The shopkeeper smiled, pleased with the deal. He wrote out the pawn ticket and handed it to Zhao Shun along with five taels of silver.

"Sign and press your thumbprint, and take the money."

Zhao Shun, in a hurry, signed and pressed his thumbprint, taking the silver.

"Check it, five taels of silver. Once the silver leaves the counter, no returns!"

Zhao Shun took the silver, glanced at it under the lamp, and left the shop in a hurry. The shopkeeper, watching him go, muttered, "Fool," and carefully examined the gun.

With five taels of silver in his pocket, Zhao Shun rushed to the pharmacy.

Fortunately, the pharmacy was still open at night. He presented the prescription and asked the clerk to prepare five doses of medicine and a bit of ginseng, totaling one tael of silver.

Zhao Shun handed over the silver ingot, which the clerk passed to the accountant.

"Hmm!" The accountant exclaimed, examining the silver. "Call Wang over."

"Sir, what's wrong?" Zhao Shun asked, sensing something was amiss.

The accountant's face darkened, eyeing Zhao Shun warily. "Wait a moment."

A moment later, the clerk returned with a man.

"Wang, look at this silver. It seems to be fake," the accountant said.

The man was a silversmith hired by the pharmacy to identify and prevent fake silver. The pharmacy dealt with a lot of silver, and fake silver was common. A single piece of fake silver could be mostly copper or lead, with only a small amount of real silver.

If they received fake silver, they would lose money. Therefore, the pharmacy hired a silversmith to prevent this.

The silversmith carefully examined the silver and used several tools to test it.

"Fake silver, as fake as it gets. The outer layer is silver, but the inside is mostly lead. This five-tael ingot is only worth five mace."

The accountant was furious upon hearing this.

The man had bought one tael of medicine with a fake five-tael ingot. If they hadn't noticed, they would have had to give him four taels of real silver in change.

Receiving five mace of silver and giving one tael of medicine and four taels of real silver, the pharmacy would have lost money. If they hadn't noticed, the loss would have been attributed to the accountant.

"Bring this man to the authorities. How dare he try to cheat us with fake silver! Do you know who owns this pharmacy? You look honest, but you're a deceitful person," the accountant shouted angrily.

A group of pharmacy clerks, armed with pestles, knives, and scissors, surrounded Zhao Shun.

"This can't be! I got this silver from the pawnshop just now. How can it be fake?" Zhao Shun shouted in panic.

The silversmith sneered, took a pair of silver scissors, and cut the ingot into several pieces. It was clear that the outer layer was silver, but the inside was black lead.

Upon hearing that the silver came from the pawnshop, the accountant's expression changed.

"Is it the one at the crossroads?"

Zhao Shun nodded.

The accountant sighed. "Why didn't you be more careful? Since you didn't mean to cheat us, I won't have you arrested. Take this fake silver and go. We can't sell you the medicine."

The clerks and the silversmith, upon hearing about the pawnshop, shook their heads. Everyone in Macheng knew about the pawnshop's shady practices. They secretly hired silversmiths to make fake silver and used the pawnshop to distribute it.

For locals, they were more cautious, sometimes giving them silver with a higher percentage of real silver. For outsiders or the poor, like Zhao Shun, they would cheat them completely, giving them silver that was mostly lead, like this ingot, which was worth only five mace.

Seeing the expressions of the pharmacy staff, Zhao Shun realized he had been cheated by the pawnshop. His electric gun, worth twenty to thirty taels, had been pawned for five taels of fake silver, effectively only worth five mace.

"I'll fight them!" Zhao Shun shouted, pocketing the fake silver.

"Brother, listen to me. This time, consider it a lesson. You didn't notice it then, and if you go back now, they won't admit it. The pawnshop has connections. If you go, you won't get your silver back, and you might get beaten or even arrested. It's not worth it," the accountant advised, having seen such incidents before. The pawnshop was owned by Zhang Butcher and had the backing of the county magistrate and other officials. Zhao Shun, with no money or influence, couldn't fight them.

Zhao Shun, however, was too angry to listen. The Tartars had invaded his home, destroyed his house and shop, and forced him to flee. His relatives had moved away, and he was now a refugee in a shack. His son was sick, and he couldn't afford medicine. He had pawned his family's treasure and was cheated.

All of this made the Shandong man furious, his anger erupting like a volcano, and he was consumed by rage.

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