Chapter 157

Chapter 157

As the saying goes: "You plan a garden, and weeds grow; you plant a willow, and shade appears."

When Han Zhang returned home after finishing his business outside and learned about the conversation between his husband and Shao Langzhou, he nearly spat out his tea from laughing.

He never expected his husband to have such a knack for "brainwashing" people!

But on second thought, no matter how good someone's acting is, genuine emotion always hits harder.

It made sense that the young, naive Shao Langzhou had been led astray by his husband.

Originally, Han Zhang had planned to "brainwash" Shao Langzhou—his future brother-in-law—before his own brother showed up, to make it easier for his brother to win Shao Langzhou over.

But with Shen Qinglan's stroke of genius, he quietly dropped that idea, afraid that saying too much would only make things worse.

With Shen Qinglan handling all the household matters, Han Zhang didn't need to worry about them.

Instead, he focused all his attention on the prefectural office he was about to take over.

After all, as a newly appointed official, it was essential to first understand the office's power structure and who was who.

Han Zhang quickly summed up the entire prefectural office as follows:

1. Prefect: The big boss. What he says goes—but whether anyone listens depends on the people below.

2. Assistant Officials: The second-in-command Assistant Prefect/Vice-Prefect, who share power to keep you in check—if you're not careful, they can easily push you aside.

3. Private Advisors: They hold no official rank, but they're the real puppet masters behind the whole office.

4. Six-Bureau Clerks: The ones who actually do the work—but also the ones who block you and line their own pockets.

5. Three-Class Yamen Runners: They're at the bottom, but they're the ones who actually carry out all government orders.

If Han Zhang wanted to take power, the two most urgent things he needed to do were: make an example of the assistant officials to establish his authority, and win over the private advisors.

The former was easy—he was great at taking people down.

The hard part was the latter: the private advisors in a prefectural office were almost always local juren degree holders with deep-rooted connections. Simply put, these advisors were representatives sent by local powerful families to meddle in government affairs.

Even simpler: to deal with one advisor, you had to deal with an entire powerful local clan!

And if you couldn't get rid of this "private advisor faction," even the emperor would be nothing but a figurehead with no real power.

Han Zhang had already been in Yunyang Prefecture for five or six days.

Yet no one from the prefectural office had come to pay their respects. It was clear no one took his new position as prefect seriously—they were openly giving him the cold shoulder.

After all, it was no secret that he'd been demoted here for offending someone powerful.

An official from a humble background with no connections naturally didn't scare anyone.

However, Han Zhang wasn't angry about it.

Because all of this was expected—if Yunyang Prefecture had been easy to handle, it wouldn't have fallen to him.

Shen Qinglan didn't understand the ins and outs of officialdom, but he understood social etiquette.

The fact that no one had come to visit his husband, the top official, was so obviously disrespectful that even he could see it.

"These people have some nerve! Knowing full well you've already taken office, they still treat you with such contempt—it's clear they don't respect you at all!"

"Even if you were demoted here, you're still a legitimate fourth-rank official! They can't be this blatant about it!"

"This is... this is infuriating! I'll write to Father right now and have him deal with them!"

Shen Qinglan was so furious that he picked up his brush and was about to write to his father to complain.

He was the perfect example of "if you can't beat them, call your parents"—he just couldn't stand seeing his husband disrespected and bullied.

Seeing his husband's puffed-up, angry face, Han Zhang couldn't help but laugh as he pulled him back and coaxed, "Husband, don't be angry. This is such a small matter—why bother your father-in-law?"

Shen Qinglan refused to back down, feeling wronged: "You call this a small matter? They're openly slapping you in the face! If we don't win back your dignity now, who knows how they'll bully you later!"

"Dignity is earned, not given. I've just arrived, and I'm from a humble background, exiled here for offending someone—it's only natural they look down on me."

"Your father has some influence in the capital, but Yunyang Prefecture is far from the emperor's reach. Local powers are deeply connected, and even a mighty dragon can't crush a local snake. Your father is too far away to help..."

"Besides, with the Chang Gongjun affair, your father's position in the capital is probably shaky right now. And besides—if I can't even handle a situation like this, how can I make a name for myself in the future?"

Han Zhang guided the still-fuming Shen Qinglan to sit down, and stroking his slightly protruding belly, he smiled:

"Husband, don't be angry. You wouldn't want to give birth to a little hothead, would you? That would give us a headache. Back in the capital, I didn't fear even those great families—why would I fear these local ghosts and monsters?"

"The days are long. What's the point of winning a petty argument? The one who laughs last laughs best."

The moment Han Zhang touched his belly, most of Shen Qinglan's anger melted away.

But he still stubbornly insisted, "I just can't stand it! Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west—don't bully a youth for being poor! Husband, once you've established yourself in the office, you must teach those people a lesson, show them your power, and make them regret humiliating you today!"

Having read too many storybooks, the lovesick Shen had temporarily gone into hibernation, and the arrogant Shen had taken over.

Han Zhang chuckled softly: "Alright, alright, whatever you say, husband. In the future, I'll make them kneel and cry for their mothers, kowtow and apologize, shouting 'Aotian Daddy' at your husband—me."

"Pfft... Husband, stop joking around! I'm being serious here!"

Shen Qinglan couldn't help but laugh and playfully stomped on his foot.

Han Zhang nimbly dodged, then pulled the man into his arms, his hand once again covering his lover's slightly protruding belly as he asked with concern, "Has the baby been giving you trouble today?"

"No, the doctor said the baby won't start moving until next month..."

When it came to their child, Shen Qinglan's brow softened with a husbandly tenderness, shedding his usual flighty, restless demeanor.

The couple embraced, talking about their child, and the room was filled with warmth and happiness, their joyful laughter ringing out.

...

Time flew by in the blink of an eye.

Soon, the day for him to officially take office arrived.

Han Zhang changed into a brand-new official robe, and amid Shen Qinglan's worried looks and detailed instructions, he set off for the prefectural office with several manservants in tow.

The Yunyang Prefectural Office was located in the eastern part of the city, taking up a large area with vermilion gates and tall walls, flanked by two majestic stone lions at the entrance.

But when Han Zhang arrived, the office's main gates were tightly shut, the front was desolate, with no yamen runners on duty and no ceremonial procession to welcome a new superior.

Han Zhang reined in his horse before the gates, while the manservants behind him looked indignant:

"Sir..."

These underlings in Yunyang Prefecture are getting way too bold. Not only did they skip coming to pay their respects a few days back, but today, when our lord assumes his post, there's not even a trace of a welcome party. This is absolutely outrageous!

"It's fine."

Han Zhang stayed calm, then swung off his horse, tossing the reins to one of his men. He smoothed down his official robes, climbed the stone steps, and knocked on the heavy vermilion gate himself.

"Thump, thump, thump—"

After a long pause, a lazy voice drifted from inside: "Who is it? Who's banging on the door at this hour?"

With a creak, the side door opened a crack, and a yamen runner stuck half his face out, sizing Han Zhang up. The moment he saw the fourth-rank official robes, he knew exactly who he was.

But the guy deliberately played dumb, asking lazily, "What business does Your Honor have? The yamen's closed today. Got business? Come back another day."

That kind of disrespect made the attendant beside him see red, and he immediately snapped:

"Our lord is the newly appointed Prefect of Yunyang, Han Qinzhang, here to assume his post today. Are you blind, you runner? Can't you even recognize the fourth-rank robes on our lord?"

Han Zhang pulled out his official seal and credentials and handed them over, calm as ever: "This is my official seal."

At that, the runner finally put on a look of "oh, now I get it," hurriedly pulled open the side door—but still made no move to swing the main gate wide open in welcome—and bowed with a fake smile plastered on his face:

"Oh, it's Lord Han! This lowly one didn't recognize Your Honor. Please forgive me, my lord. But today a big case came up, and the Assistant Prefect and a few secretaries are holed up in the back hall, and they said not to be disturbed. That's why we didn't come out to receive you, my lord..."

"In conference? What big case needs the whole yamen to crowd around?" Han Zhang raised an eyebrow with a faint smile. "Didn't you know I was taking office today?"

The runner kept up the act, grinning like a sycophant: "Well... this lowly one is but a gatekeeper; I truly know nothing of the affairs above. Maybe... Lord Han could head back to his residence and rest? Once the lords are done deliberating, this lowly one will pass the word along? Then the yamen can set up a proper welcome for your lordship's inauguration?"

The words were polite, but they couldn't hide the outright humiliation—a fourth-rank prefect showing up to take office, only to be stopped at the door by some lowly gatekeeper and told to "come back another day"!

The attendants behind Han Zhang were furious, fists clenched, ready to charge in and teach that cocky runner a lesson.

But Han Zhang raised a hand to stop them, and a smile suddenly spread across his face.

He smiled as warm as a spring breeze, not a hint of anger, yet it somehow sent a chill down the runner's spine.

"What's your name? How many years have you served in the yamen?"

Han Zhang asked, still smiling warmly, changing the subject.

The runner was caught off guard, not sure where this was going, but he answered on instinct: "This lowly one is Wang San, having served in the yamen for eight years."

"Eight years, huh? That makes you a real veteran." Han Zhang nodded, then asked again: "You said earlier that 'the lords and secretaries of the yamen are in conference and must not be disturbed,' is that right?"

"Yes, that is so..."

Wang San had a bad feeling, but he could only answer with a stiff upper lip.

Hearing this, Han Zhang's smile grew even warmer, though his tone carried a hint of puzzlement:

"As I understand it, according to the Statutes of the Great Zhao, when a prefect assumes his post, all deputy officials and subordinate clerks should come out to welcome him. If there are pressing matters, they should report in advance. You've been guarding this gate for eight years—and you don't know this rule? You can't even recognize official rank insignia?"

"No, this lowly one, this lowly one..."

Wang San was caught dead to rights, his mouth hanging open, sweat beading on his forehead in a panic.

"Not knowing the rules is dereliction of duty. But if one knows the rules and deliberately flouts them..." Han Zhang's smile gradually faded, "that is contempt for one's superior, punishable by twenty strokes of the cane and dismissal with investigation."

At these words, Wang San's legs gave way, and he fell to his knees with a thud: "My, my lord, forgive me! This lowly one was merely following orders!"

"Whose orders? And what were they?"

"I was, I was..."

Wang San was drenched in sweat, but his words stuck in his throat, unable to spit out a name.

Seeing this, Han Zhang did not press him, only instructing his attendants behind him: "Gatekeeper Wang San, negligent in his duties and contemptuous of his superior, shall receive twenty strokes of the cane. Administer it, right here."

"Yes, my lord!"

The attendants, who had been simmering with anger, immediately stepped forward.

Seeing that he was truly going to be beaten, Wang San panicked completely, forgetting all else as he turned and cried out toward the yamen:

"Lord Yang, Lord Zhou, save me—"

Being punished afterward was a matter for later.

If he did not cry for help now, he would surely be made an example of, beaten to a pulp with no room for recourse!