Chapter Seventy-Nine: The Plague of Officials, Merchants, and Bandits; Celestial Sword Manor

Han Chong and his companions felt their hearts sink slightly. This farming family had clearly been frightened by the tax collectors; before even asking who the visitors were, they were already trembling.

“Please, rise. We are not officials from the Qiong Prefecture government, merely passing through in search of lodging,” Han Chong said.

“What? Not from the government?” The farmer, now relieved, showed a hint of joy and motioned for his family to stand.

Upon the farmer’s invitation, Han Chong and his companions entered the main hall and took their seats. On the table, the bowls contained nothing but wild vegetables in clear broth, even poorer fare than what farmers in Yun Prefecture ate.

“Farmer, I have heard much about Qiong Prefecture, famed for its wealth and abundance of fish and rice. Your courtyard is reasonably spacious—why is your meal so crude?” Han Chong asked.

“Sir, are you from another province?” the farmer inquired cautiously.

“Yes, we come from Yun Prefecture.”

“I see. Well, you may not know, but once Qiong Prefecture was indeed as you’ve heard. My family could not claim to have meat and eggs every meal, but we managed two dishes and a soup, and life was bearable. Since March, however, things have worsened day by day. Now, we cannot even afford a full meal, nor new clothes for the children. Alas.”

“Oh? What happened? Tell us in detail. Though we are not high officials, we do hold some authority and may be able to help.”

“Are you serious, sir? Today, I, Li Si, have truly met a benefactor. You may not know, but Qiong Prefecture was once the richest in the land. Though the government taxed us heavily, every household had a roof and fields, raised silkworms, harvested rice, fished and bred livestock, each with their own income. But since March, the government suddenly imposed heavy taxes. That alone would be bearable; we could sell silks and fish at the market to cope. Yet now, the merchants in town have taken over the marketplace, hiring thugs to prevent us from selling directly, and force us to sell our goods at far below market price. At the same time, all cloth, salt, and firewood prices have soared throughout the county.

And that’s not all—out of nowhere, sea and river bandits have grown rampant, raiding homes night after night, stealing property. The authorities do nothing. Misfortune upon misfortune: we endured for a month or two, but if this continues, small farmers like us will be forced to sell our homes or even our children just to survive.”

“So that’s it. Even the wealthiest farmer cannot withstand layer upon layer of exploitation,” Han Chong nodded.

“Farmer, have you ever heard tell of monsters or ghosts in Qiong Prefecture?” he asked.

“No, sir, you must be joking. Under the bright sun, where could there be monsters or ghosts? I’ve lived over thirty years and never heard such tales. If there are any, it would be in the Eastern Sea Trench, where legend says sea monsters dwell, but no one has seen them with their own eyes.”

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“But I have heard of one place: Sword Mountain Manor, near the city. It is said heroes from all corners flock there. In the past, if a farmer suffered a robbery, he wouldn’t seek help from the authorities but would appeal to the manor, and heroes would come forth to uphold justice.

Yet last month, a farmer’s home was robbed. He went searching for the manor day and night. When he returned, he said the manor’s entrance was awash with blood, many heroes lay dead, and he was so terrified he dared not knock—he simply fled.”

“Sword Mountain Manor!” Han Chong exchanged a glance with Captain Ning.

“Very well, farmer. I will remember what you have told me. Here is some silver—let it serve as payment for our lodging,” Han Chong said, handing the farmer a silver ingot.

“How could I accept this? It is a blessing to have you stay in my humble home, how could I dare take your money? It would be a sin!”

“The general has given it to you, so take it and say no more. Go now,” Captain Ning waved him off.

“Yes, yes. I’ll go find some food for you sirs,” the farmer replied, holding the silver, and hurried out.

“General Han, it seems Qiong Prefecture is wealthy, yet deeply troubled,” Captain Ning remarked.

“Indeed. Tomorrow at first light, we will split up. Each of you will lead your captains to investigate Qiong Prefecture in secret. Meet at the prefectural office in half a month,” Han Chong ordered the four newly promoted Captains of the Barbarians.

“At your command!”

...

Han Chong stayed alone in one room and turned to the little grey creature by his bed.

“We are now in Qiong Prefecture. You may leave and return only every ten days to report to me at the prefectural office.”

Its eyes brightened—at last, it could go back to being the carefree evil spirit, merely delivering messages, without having to play the lapdog at his side. It nodded eagerly, joy written all over its face.

“Thank you, master!” With that, it turned to leave.

“Wait. I warn you: no tricks, or I will show no mercy.”

“Yes.” It stumbled, its dog-like head drooping, anxiety flashing in its eyes, but seeing Han Chong had no further orders, it turned into a streak of silver light and slipped out the window.

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The next morning, Han Chong watched the four teams depart, leaving only Leng Yue and Mingzhen behind. Both were his friends, and with Captain Wu dead, it was safer to keep them close.

He had the two change into plain clothes, rented a modest black-roofed boat, and set out by water toward Qiong Prefecture city.

“General Han, where do you think the monsters of Qiong Prefecture hide? That farmer hadn’t heard a single tale in decades,” Leng Yue asked from the boat’s prow.

“Ah, you two don’t need to call me ‘General’ in private. Just ‘Brother Han’ will do. It’s a pity Brother Ouyang has returned to the capital; otherwise, he could divine the monsters’ whereabouts.

But from my guess, though the Seven Kingdoms are competing, Qiong Prefecture is still the economic heart of the Great Feng Dynasty. The monsters are wild, but they wouldn’t dare act openly—they must be hiding in deep mountains and marshes, working in secret.”

“Amitabha, I too miss Benefactor Ouyang, I wonder how he fares now. Buddha is merciful; the people of Qiong Prefecture are suffering, and we ought to do our best to help them,” Mingzhen said, sitting cross-legged, turning his prayer beads.

“Alas, our progress is slow. We still haven’t reached the realm of energy refinement and divine transformation. But lately, I have glimpsed a hint of breakthrough,” Leng Yue said.

“Oh? Congratulations, Captain Leng. I hope you advance soon. By the way, when I passed by Blackwater Demon Lake, I acquired some black jade demon rice, which greatly strengthens the body. You two should try it—it may help with your cultivation.”

Han Chong took several black grains from his storage pouch and placed them in the boat’s cabin.

Leng Yue took one, bit it lightly, and a fragrant aroma of meat wafted out—even the boatman smelled it.

Mingzhen was about to try one, but upon smelling the meat, he immediately set it down, hands pressed together.

“Thank you, Brother Han, for your kindness. Though this rice is vegetarian, it smells of meat—I dare not eat it. Captain Leng, you may have mine.”

Leng Yue ate just one grain and felt heat surge through his body, rising in waves. He quickly sat cross-legged to meditate and refine it, awakening only after half a day.

“Whew, thank you, Brother Han, for your generous gift. This rice is truly beneficial to me, but it is too precious. Please take some back—I should not accept such treasure without merit.”