Lin’an Town.

After selling the pork, Xie Zheng frowned and wiped his hands clean with a handkerchief.

Only then did he lift his eyelids and glance at the sun, realizing it was already nearing noon. His handsome brows furrowed even deeper.

Lin’an Town wasn’t far from the county seat—why had she been gone for so long?

Xie Zheng closed up the shop. Passing through the tile market, he caught sight of a Hu merchant selling various animal furs and some leather goods. His gaze fell upon a pair of wristguards among them.

Seeing him staring at the wristguards, the Hu merchant called out, “Does the young master want to buy wristguards? These are made of deerskin—truly fine goods! But for the young master’s use… they might be a bit small. I’ve got a pair made of roedeer hide—take a look?”

As he spoke, he picked up another pair several sizes larger and handed them to Xie Zheng.

Xie Zheng didn’t take them. He picked up the deerskin wristguards, looked them over, and then raised his hand slightly, as if comparing the size from memory. After a moment, he said to the Hu merchant, “These ones.”

After paying, he took the wristguards and was about to leave when he heard a few people inside a nearby teahouse sighing heavily.

“Pity those dozens of lives in Ma Family Village. Those officials—damn bastards, every last one of them!”

“Let’s just hope that scholar managed to escape, so he can expose the fine deeds those dog officials have done!”

Xie Zheng halted and glanced in that direction. The Hu merchant, noticing his apparent interest in the topic, sighed and said, “It’s the tragedy at Ma Family Village. There was a scholar there who couldn’t bear the officials’ cruel grain collection. He planned to lead the whole village to Jizhou Prefecture to kneel and beg for the farmers to be left some seed grain. Afraid of being discovered by the officials, they set out last night. But this morning, it was found that all of them were slaughtered on the official road. The villagers were all hacked to death, and that scholar’s whereabouts are unknown—no one knows if he was captured alive or managed to escape.”

A glint of cold light flashed through Xie Zheng’s eyes. He asked, “The people of that village—were they killed by the officials?”

The Hu merchant replied, “That’s what everyone’s guessing. After all, they were just poor farmers. Even bandits rob the rich—they wouldn’t go out of their way to block the road and slaughter dozens of paupers just to sharpen their blades, would they?”

“Strange thing is,” he went on, “as soon as the people of Ma Family Village were dead, every road leading to Jizhou Prefecture got sealed off by mountain bandits. How could that be such a coincidence? Isn’t it just to keep anyone from going to Jizhou to lodge a complaint? The farmers from the neighboring villages have already taken up their tools and said they’ll go join the rebel king in Chongzhou.”

The Hu merchant kept shaking his head as he spoke. He wasn’t a man of Great Yin, just a wandering trader dealing in furs across the land. Yet as a commoner himself, hearing of such a massacre, he couldn’t help but sigh in sorrow.

Xie Zheng, however, furrowed his long brows tightly. As someone in power, he naturally sensed something amiss.

The tragedy of Ma Family Village—it was as if someone were deliberately driving the people of Qingping County into rebellion.

If that scholar was still alive and had escaped, he would surely bring word of the slaughter to Jizhou Prefecture, even to the capital itself.

The government’s grain levy had left the commoners no way to live. The people knelt before the county magistrate and were ignored, then tried to petition the prefecture instead—only to be massacred halfway there. Whoever heard of such an atrocity would wish to grind the officials’ bones to dust.

Such a massacre could only stir the wrath of the people, driving Qingping’s citizens to revolt—and striking yet another blow against the imperial court’s military.

Thinking of the similar tragedies reported from Taizhou’s grain levies, the chill in Xie Zheng’s eyes deepened.

Every single one of these grain-levy massacres, it seemed there was always someone behind the scenes, deliberately fanning the flames.

The one who stood to gain from all this—without question, was none other than the rebel forces in Chongzhou.

· ─ ·✶· ─ · 

Jizhou Prefecture.

Wei Xuan sat in the main seat, his expression full of impatience as he watched the men below tally the grain and provisions collected from each county.

Before long, a personal guard came forward to report: “General, the grain levied from Qingping County has not yet been delivered.”

Wei Xuan’s foul mood grew even fouler. He kicked over the low table before him and roared, “A mere county magistrate dares defy my military orders?!”

He drew his sword and stood up.

“Men! Assemble the troops! Follow me to Qingping County, we’ll collect the grain ourselves!”

Just then, another scout burst in, shouting: “Report—urgent dispatch from Yanzhou, eight hundred li express!”

Wei Xuan’s face darkened.

Yanzhou was a barren, mountainous backwater by the Yan Mountains—where he had exiled the remnants of Xie Zheng’s old troops.

What could possibly be so urgent from such a place?

He unfolded the letter.

The moment his eyes landed on the familiar handwriting, the blood in his body surged backward.

His guards didn’t understand why their general’s face had turned so grim so suddenly—until, in the next instant, Wei Xuan unsheathed his sword and struck down the overturned table, cleaving it cleanly in two. His eyes bulged with rage as he shouted:

“He’s not dead! He waited all this time just to appear now—only to humiliate me after my defeat!”

One of his confidants stooped to pick up the letter Wei Xuan had flung to the ground.

On the paper, the bold, unrestrained handwriting stood out vividly—and at the end, three characters: “Xie Jiuheng.”

The Marquis of Wu’an of Great Yin—surname Xie, given name Zheng, courtesy name Jiuheng.

That courtesy name had been chosen by his teacher, Grand Preceptor Tao. Tao had said that the character Zheng (征, “to conquer”) carried too much aggression; fearing he would act rashly in his pursuit of achievement, he gave him the name Jiuheng (九衡) to restrain it. “Others need only think thrice before acting,” he had said. “You, before you move, must weigh it nine times.”

Through all these years, Xie Zheng had indeed lived up to his teacher’s charge.

Though famed from youth, he had never acted rashly in battle—his steadiness rivaled that of any seasoned general.

The guard was one of Wei Xuan’s trusted men, and he naturally knew of how the Wei father and son had schemed against the Marquis of Wu’an during the Chongzhou campaign.

He said immediately, “The Marquis of Wu’an must have been gathering strength in secret all this time, waiting to avenge his past humiliation. In this letter, he advises you to withdraw to Huizhou to guard the northwestern pass against foreign invasion. It could be a trap! The northwest is no place to linger! The Chancellor’s recall order will arrive any day now—General, returning to the capital first would be the wisest course!”

Wei Xuan seized the guard by his collar, snarling, “You think I’m afraid of him?!”

The guard knew his general’s temper—how he always sought to compare himself with the Marquis of Wu’an, and could not stand hearing that he was inferior to him. Yet this time, he had no choice but to press on earnestly:

“General, don’t let pride blind you! The northwest is already in chaos. The seventy thousand soldiers still in Huizhou, all of them were trained under the Marquis of Wu’an himself. They only obeyed your command because they believed he had been slain by the Chongzhou rebels and wanted revenge for him. But now that he’s alive—then here in the northwest, we are but fish and meat beneath his blade!”

Of course Wei Xuan knew every word of this was true. But knowing it only made his anger burn hotter.

All his life, he had been overshadowed by this man—Xie Zheng was a thorn driven deep into his eye.

And until that thorn was pulled out, he would never know peace.

But in the end, Wei Xuan had no choice but to swallow this humiliation.

With two thousand of his personal guards, he left Jizhou Prefecture in a fury.

When He Jingyuan heard the news back at the prefectural office, he let out a long sigh—half in relief, half in shame.

He was relieved that the man renowned across the realm as the “Killing General” was ruthless only toward foreign enemies, yet still held compassion for the people of Great Yin.

And he was ashamed that, as a local magistrate—a parent-official to the people—he had allowed Wei Xuan to drive the citizens of Jizhou to such desperation.

Zheng Wenchang then asked him, “My lord, what should we do with the military grain that has been collected?”

He Jingyuan said, “Return the seed grain to the farmers; once spring arrives, it must not be delayed for next year’s planting.”

Zheng Wenchang responded in agreement.

He Jingyuan asked, “I heard one county hasn’t delivered its levied grain—do you know which county it is?”

Zheng Wenchang answered, “Qingping County.”

Hearing the name again, He Jingyuan’s gaze darkened. “County magistrate Cui Shoude is a craven man—how could he dare not remit the grain? This matter is strange. Take men and investigate.”

Zheng Wenchang was about to salute when a guard hurried in and said, “My lord—terrible news. A scholar has come before the prefectural office to beat a drum and cry injustice, composing poems to denounce the officials for violently levying grain and slaughtering the field peasants. The entire city is in an uproar!”

He Jingyuan and Zheng Wenchang were both taken aback.

Zheng Wenchang quickly cupped his fists and said, “After receiving your order, I have had men tailing the soldiers under Wei Xuan who went to collect the grain, and have not found any killing or looting.”

He Jingyuan only instructed the guard, “Bring the man to me; I will question him.”

The guard bowed and left.

· ─ ·✶· ─ · 

Qingping County.

The plan Fan Changyu had proposed to bind the county magistrate had, without doubt, been vetoed by Madam Wang. She said helplessly, “There are, when you add them up, some hundred odd county yamen servants and constables—how are we to bind the county magistrate?”

Fan Changyu, afraid of frightening Madam Wang, kept her head lowered and did not speak; yet in her mind she thought: however many people there are, they cannot follow the county magistrate every hour of the day—there must be times he’s alone.

Before Madam Wang could continue, a commotion rose up on the street ahead.

A squad of officials, like wolves and tigers, were parading a number of people bound in fetters through the streets. Fan Changyu looked at the garments on those men and cried out in alarm, “Aren’t those the staff from Yixiang Tower?!”

Madam Wang felt a jolt in her heart. “Has the county magistrate moved so quickly?”

Fan Changyu did not see Yu Qianqian among the people being escorted. She hurried forward and squeezed into the crowd to look.

The onlookers were talking among themselves: “Why have all Yixiang Tower’s cooks and staff been arrested?”

“I heard someone died from eating at Yixiang Tower. That family carried a coffin to the tower’s gate and made a scene. The authorities sealed the place to investigate and took the tower’s staff back for questioning.”

Fan Changyu stood on tiptoe to watch the procession and finally saw Yu Qianqian, her hands bound, walking in the middle. Yu Qianqian also saw her; without showing emotion she shook her head at Fan Changyu, signaling her not to come forward, and silently formed two syllables with her lips.

From the shape of her mouth, Fan Changyu discerned the two syllables were “Bao’er.”

Fan Changyu looked the escort over carefully and did not see the child. She knew in her heart that Yu Bao’er must have been hidden somewhere by Yu Qianqian. Yu Qianqian making that mouth-shape was asking her to look after Yu Bao’er.

Madam Wang had caught up and, fearing Fan Changyu would act rashly, gripped one of her hands tightly and lowered her voice in her ear: “No matter what your relationship with that shopkeeper is, do not go forward now. If the soldiers notice you, it might bring disaster down on you.”

Fan Changyu understood and forced herself not to move.

After the squad of soldiers passed, Madam Wang looked at Fan Changyu and said, “If you want a map of the county yamen and the magistrate’s residence, I can get one for you.”

Fan Changyu knew that given the Wang family’s position, Madam Wang’s offering such a promise was not easy. She thanked her, said she would fetch it if needed, and then hurried toward Yixiang Tower.

Yu Qianqian had been arrested at Yixiang Tower; Yu Bao’er might well have been hidden by her somewhere in the tower.

When she reached the main street, Fan Changyu saw from afar that a sealing notice had already been affixed to Yixiang Tower’s magnificent gate. She skirted to the back alley and saw that the courtyards where the tower’s footmen lived had also been sealed. She glanced at the rear yard wall of Yixiang Tower and, just as she was about to climb over, a hand shot out from the side and dragged her into a narrow, dark alley between the outer walls of the two courtyards.

Fan Changyu grabbed the other’s collar with her reverse hand and, using her arm’s strength, was about to hurl the person to the ground. Only after she smelled the dry, medicinal scent and the aroma of dried tangerine candy on him did the force in her hand suddenly slacken.

She called softly, “Yan Zheng?”

Xie Zheng lowered his eyes to signal her to be silent, his phoenix-like brows coldly sweeping toward the alley’s mouth; Fan Changyu could not help but grow alert as well.

The footsteps of a squad of soldiers grew near and they stood guard outside Yixiang Tower’s back door: “By order of the county magistrate, until the murder case at Yixiang Tower is concluded, Yixiang Tower shall not be unsealed for a single day. To prevent the destruction of evidence, strictly guard this building!”

Fan Changyu said in a low voice, “Yu Bao’er wasn’t taken by the soldiers. I worry Yu Qianqian hid him somewhere inside the tower.”

The two of them were so close that each could hear the other’s breathing. To avoid letting the soldiers outside hear anything, she kept her voice very low.

Xie Zheng felt as if there were insects crawling in his ears. He frowned, straightened, stepped a little away from her, and said, “I arrived a quarter hour before you and have already entered the building to take the people away.”

Fan Changyu breathed a sigh of relief and then wanted to ask him, “Weren’t you at the butcher’s? How did you come to the county seat?”

Xie Zheng’s gaze was slightly cold; he only said, “After selling the pork, I saw you had not returned for a long time, so I came to take a look.”

Fan Changyu said, “I’m fine; it’s just that Shopkeeper Yu has run into trouble.”

She told him the suspicions she and Yu Qianqian had, then added, “I plan to bind the county magistrate to save Shopkeeper Yu. You take Yu Bao’er and Ning-niang and find a place to hide. If I get captured, I trouble you to look after Ning-niang.”

Xie Zheng knit his brows and looked at her: “Who gave you this stupid idea?”

Fan Changyu was baffled by his rebuke. After thinking, sensing he must be angry that she involved him, she shoved the two children into his arms before he left and said, “I thought of it myself. I only mentioned the possibility of being captured—I intended to strike when the county magistrate’s attendants were few. How could I possibly be caught…?”

Xie Zheng snorted, “Many of the countrymen have already rebelled, planning to overturn the Qingping yamen and go to join the rebel king. Do you think the county magistrate, if he were the mastermind, would put himself in such a dangerous position?”

Fan Changyu understood the meaning behind his words: taking the county magistrate hostage would not save Yu Qianqian.

She considered a moment, unable to come up with a plan, and raised her clear, honest eyes to look at Xie Zheng: “Then what should we do? Who is the mastermind—will it help if we go bind him?”

Hearing that she had not given up the idea of kidnapping someone nearly made Xie Zheng laugh with anger.

He said, “It’s useless to bind anyone. Someone is sowing discord and intends to force the people of Qingping County into rebellion, then draw Jizhou Prefecture’s troops to suppress the rioters. In that way, the rumors that the court’s grain levies drove the people to revolt will be confirmed.”

If Qingping County did not send the levied grain to Jizhou Prefecture, given Wei Xuan’s temper, he would certainly march to Qingping on the spot. If confronted with rebelling people, Wei Xuan might even order his men to slaughter the entire Qingping County.