Chapter 29

...Should he kill him?

He could crush him with just one finger now.

Village Head Zhou's face went a little pale.

His only hope now was that Huo Lin didn't know what he'd done.

Village Head Zhou's eldest son, Zhou Shuzong, gave him a gentle nudge, and only then did he snap out of it. He sighed, smiled, and felt like he was in a dream.

This was a good thing. He should be happy.

This was what he'd always hoped for—just in a way he never could have imagined.

After the Chief Clerk finished reading the document, he looked at Huo Lin, who showed little emotion: "Give thanks for the imperial favor."

Huo Lin clasped his fists: "Thank you, Chief Clerk. Thank you, Deputy Magistrate. Thank you, General."

The Chief Clerk stroked his goatee as he sized up Huo Lin. Unlike the villagers who were scared of officials, Huo Lin wasn't just composed—he was way too calm. That kind of bearing wasn't something just anyone could fake.

Finding nothing off about him, the Chief Clerk nodded: "Regional Commander Huo, I'll be on my way then. The County Magistrate said the Regional Commander spot is saved for you. Once you're healed up, you can take the post. When that time comes, all the county office staff will throw you a celebration."

Who would've thought a poor, out-of-the-way place like Pingshan Village could produce a Guerrilla General? Even though he was retiring from the army, the General still gave him an important post. After all, the Regional Commander of Dongling County controlled every bit of military force in the whole county.

That showed he had connections up in the capital.

The Chief Clerk was real polite to him. He could also tell Huo Lin's place was bare and humble—no good tea to offer him, and he couldn't hand over the silver in front of all the villagers. So he didn't push to stay.

Village Head Zhou hurriedly led him toward his own home, hoping to be of some help, but the Chief Clerk waved him off. If he wouldn't step into the Regional Commander's home, he sure wasn't going to step into some village head's place—that would lower his standing.

Once the officials left, the villagers finally snapped out of it, and all hell broke loose.

"What did he just say? What did Huo Lin get appointed as? What general?"

The villagers were blown away by the "illustrious military achievements" the yamen runners mentioned. They'd never left Dongling County in their whole lives—they only knew about the County Magistrate, let alone generals.

They had no idea what "illustrious military achievements" even meant. Even the villagers who'd gone to war and come back beaten were confused, and after that confusion, they looked at Huo Lin with a bit of awe.

To survive that man-eating battlefield and rack up such huge military merit—Huo Lin might as well be a god.

A Guerrilla General—they'd seen one before, riding high on horseback, swinging a gleaming long blade. Man, was he impressive.

Now that they thought about it, when Huo Lin came back to the village, he did seem to be carrying a long blade. It was just that he'd had it wrapped in rags back then, and nobody thought twice about it.

After all, just making it back alive was already a win. Who would've thought he'd not only come back alive but rack up such huge military merit?

"Did I hear that right? They're waiving our corvée labor and taxes? For how many years?"

"Yeah, uncle, three years! You heard right! Thanks, Brother Dalin!" someone shouted loudly toward Huo Lin.

"Wonderful! Three years of tax exemption, wonderful!" After everyone got their big questions answered, some folks turned to look at the cloth-covered thing on Huo Lin's tray.

"A hundred taels of silver? How much is that even?"

"Ah, ten thousand strings of cash!"

"Oh my god, wouldn't that fill a whole vat? Dalin's seriously loaded now—richest guy in our village, right?"

"No, forget the silver for now. He won't be strapped for cash anymore. I also heard he's a big official now—what general was it?"

"Guerrilla General."

"So doesn't that make Huo Lin a Grand General now? Do we gotta kowtow to him from now on?"

"No need to kowtow—didn't you see even the Village Head didn't?"

"You've got it wrong. He's not a Grand General now. He's retired from the army. He's not a soldier anymore, so he's no general!"

"Ah, what a shame. Why'd he retire? If he stayed a big official, how glorious would that be."

"Exactly. If he were a Grand General and moved to the capital, his husband would be the Grand General's missus. Wouldn't our village get some glory too? We haven't produced anyone important in a hundred years!"

"Yeah, why'd Dalin come back? He doesn't have much farmland either. Gonna go back to hunting? Not worth it, not worth it..."

The villagers yakked on and on, like they wanted to plan out Huo Lin's whole life for him.

Uncle Liu's family was there too, happy about the news, but Uncle Liu totally got why Huo Lin retired from the army.

Looking at his own son with the busted leg, he said to Zhou Qingshan, all choked up: "They only know how to gawk and talk like they know everything. They only see Huo Lin's glory, but did they see how many folks died back then? It's good he retired. He came back to live a good life with Jue Geer. Good, good..."

Those words hit home. The families who'd lost loved ones and the ones who'd been on the battlefield all went quiet. If they were Huo Lin, they'd retire too, even if it meant giving up everything.

"Brother Huolin got the title of Guerrilla General on the battlefield, and now he's retired from the army and serving as Regional Commander of Dongling County!" Zhou Shun couldn't help saying. Did these villagers think the Regional Commander post was too small? All they remembered was the Grand General and him retiring.

The Regional Commander of Dongling County was a big deal too, you know.

Huo Jilin glanced at him, surprised anyone in the village had that much sense.

Zhou Shun clasped his fists at him: "Brother Huolin, congrats! That's awesome!"

Seeing the sharp Zhou Shun say that, the villagers snapped out of it too. The Grand General was some official way off in the clouds, but this Regional Commander was right here in their Dongling County—now that was a big deal!

Their Pingshan Village had actually produced such a high-ranking official.

"Heaven's finally opened its eyes! Our village is gonna prosper now, right?"

"The Huo family must have smoke coming off their ancestral graves!"

"Oh, Huo Lin, when do you start as Regional Commander? Need any attendants?"

Zhou Shun's mouth twitched a little. These people sure changed their tune fast.

Before, they all used to keep their distance from Huo Lin.

He glanced at Huo Lin standing in the crowd getting congratulated. His face was blank, like he couldn't care less about all their flattery. Good thing he stayed as cold as ever.

With the villagers all urging him on, Huo Lin spoke flatly: "Thanks for the kind words, everyone. I need to recover from my injuries first, so I won't be taking the post for a while."

"Dalin, where'd you get hurt? Is it bad?"

"You gotta see a doctor fast—can't be late for your post at the yamen!"

Huo Jilin turned down all their well-wishes and got ready to shut the door.

The villagers still wanted to cozy up to Huo Lin, but put off by his usual coldness and current indifference, they reluctantly scattered.

Even the County Clerk couldn't get a cup of tea from Huo Lin, so what could they possibly do—ask him for silver? That was money he'd risked his life for. Moreover, Huo Lin had used his military merits to secure three years of exemption from corvée labor and taxes for the villagers—that was a huge deal!

The villagers came in high spirits and left just as cheerfully.

The Huo house settled back into quiet.

Huo Lin turned to look at Chen Jue, and if not pride, then definitely a hint of showing off in his eyes.

Given that Chen Jue had watched him practice archery for days without him hitting a single chicken feather, that look was definitely him showing off.

Chen Jue clasped his hands in salute and said, "Guerrilla General, the reputation is well-deserved."

Huo Lin coughed. His clasped-hands posture looked exactly like the one Huo Lin had just used.

And didn't that sound like sarcasm?

He really shouldn't expect Chen Jue to say anything nice. Huo Lin gave up on showing off and handed him the tray: "Here, keep the silver."

Chen Jue glanced at him. That was one good thing about the old days—when a man earned silver out in the world, he'd hand it over to his wife.

No, correction: it went to the head of the household, usually the parents, but since Huo Lin had no parents, that meant Chen Jue.

But Chen Jue looked at the small tray of silver and shook his head: "I've got nowhere to put it. You find a place to hide it."

He was going to leave eventually anyway, and he'd take the kid with him, so Huo Lin might as well keep the silver.

Huo Lin looked at him, a complicated look in his eyes, but in the end he nodded: "Alright, I'll stash it in a jar in the woodshed. If you need to spend, just take from there. In a few days, when you go to the county, use it to buy some things."

He pointed it out to Chen Jue, who nodded. That was a good hiding spot, alright—nobody'd dig holes under the firewood.

After all that ruckus, the sun was almost straight overhead. Chen Jue got back to slicing his herbs.

Huo Lin watched him for a bit, then pitched in to help wash.

Chen Jue noticed his gaze. He figured he hadn't looked happy enough—Huo Lin becoming a Guerrilla General with a hundred taels of silver in reward was a huge deal.

So Chen Jue threw in a few words: "When are you going to take up that Regional Commander post?"

Using "recovering from injuries" as an excuse didn't quite hold up—Huo Jilin looked fine on the outside, and his wounds would heal with time.

And if he'd guessed right, that Regional Commander gig—

It seemed to be a military post in the county, guarding the city. As long as no enemy attacked, there'd be no need for combat or battle.

That was pretty good.

By all logic, Huo Jilin should be rushing to take up his post. So why was he stalling with the injury excuse?

Instead, Huo Lin asked him back: "Do you want me to go?"

Chen Jue glanced at him. Did this Huo Lin really listen to his husband that much? He didn't seem like that kind of obedient man.

Or was he looking for trouble again?

Chen Jue didn't take the bait, saying only: "I don't know what kind of post it is. Go if you want."

Huo Lin gave an "oh": "I'm not going. Not now."

Fine, don't go then—go whenever you feel like it.

Chen Jue didn't dwell on why he wasn't going now. Many villagers were reluctant to leave home; people of this era had a deep-rooted attachment to their homeland.

And with those deep, long scars on Huo Lin's back, it was already good that he didn't have PTSD.

Sharing Chen Jue's suspicion was Village Head Zhou. Because Zhou had a guilty conscience, he paid far more attention to Huo Lin's affairs, turning them over and over in his mind.

Huo Lin had such a high post and wasn't rushing to assume it—it was simply incomprehensible.

He didn't look injured either, and he went hunting in the mountains every day.

So why on earth would he stay in this poor, remote village?

Village Head Zhou simply couldn't figure out what he was up to.