Chapter 399 Betrayal

Chapter 399: Betrayal

“Cao Jinfang’s Hotan mountain-stream jade white Guanyin statue! How could it possibly be in Lord Song’s possession?”

Inside the Lou family’s parlor, all the male members of the household had gathered. Old Master Lou’s youngest grandson was the first to lose his composure, slamming the table in shock and fury.

His father rebuked him sharply: “What kind of conduct is this? Has the elder master granted you permission to speak? Step aside at once!”

Old Master Lou’s other sons attempted to defuse the tension: “Elder brother, why scold the boy? Are we not all equally bewildered?”

The Lou family boasted numerous *xiucai* and *juren* scholars—and even several *jinshi*. The eldest son, Lou the Elder, was a cultivated middle-aged man who himself held the *xiucai* degree. His stern countenance bore a striking resemblance to his father’s. “Ignore him. What matters is Lord Song’s intent. Second brother—did you send someone to invite Prefect Cao? Has he arrived?”

Lou the Second’s expression darkened. “Not yet. He claims illness. Since early morning, he has turned away every visitor. His servants say Cao Jinfang issued orders last night forbidding any guests.”

The gold and silver delivered to his doorstep—he hadn’t even touched it before redistributing it; on top of that, he’d surrendered a treasured family heirloom. Rage had kept him tossing and turning all night until he actually coughed up blood. He truly *was* ill now.

Yet the fact that his white jade Guanyin had fallen into Lord Song’s hands precisely at this critical juncture—and been publicly displayed at the Lou family’s front gate—combined with his convenient claim of illness to avoid all contact… how could the Lou family not be consumed by suspicion?

Old Master Lou sat upright in the carved armchair at the head of the hall, his fingers unconsciously tracing the rim of his teacup. His clouded, aged eyes remained half-closed—revealing nothing. After a long silence, he spoke slowly: “Whether Cao Jinfang’s illness is genuine or feigned—we’ll set that aside for now. As for this Guanyin statue—the materials were procured at great expense from the Western Regions when our several families jointly sought to win Cao Jinfang over completely, and it was carved by master artisans. Cao Jinfang cherished it like a priceless jewel, even declaring he would pass it down to his descendants. How, then, did Lord Song acquire it? Did he resort to some scheme—or did Cao Jinfang hand it over willingly?”

Lou the Second nervously snapped open his folding fan, his voice edged with unease. “Father—are you suggesting Cao Jinfang, while appearing to stand with us against Lord Song, has already defected?”

Lou the Elder mused aloud: “Men die for wealth; birds die for food. Cao Jinfang has always looked out for himself first. When he first allied with us, wasn’t it because he saw our influence in Yangzhou could secure his position as prefect? Now that Lord Song has risen rapidly under imperial favor and wields immense authority—if he wished to betray us through this land equalization decree and align himself with Lord Song, it is hardly implausible.”

Old Master Lou had retired during a period when the emperor sought to curtail the Grand Secretariat’s power. Having risen to the rank of Grand Secretary, he was no idle dilettante. Though their relationship with Cao Jinfang had appeared unshakably close, the moment crisis struck, not a shred of trust remained between them. His aged voice carried a quiet melancholy: “Whether Cao Jinfang has betrayed us or not, the fact that Lord Song now holds his white jade Guanyin means he almost certainly possesses the annual tax ledgers as well. Placing that Guanyin at our threshold is an unmistakable threat—not just to Cao Jinfang, but to all our families.”

The annual tax ledgers contained exhaustive records of past land declarations and tax payments. The great Yangzhou families had acquired countless acres of farmland by exchanging grain for land during famine years—not to mention the endless stream of gifts offered by subordinates.

Most of these lands had never been accurately reported, nor had taxes ever been fully paid. Those ledgers hung over their heads like a sword—if Lord Song presented them to the throne, they would stand accused of defrauding the emperor and evading taxes. At minimum, their estates would be confiscated and their families exiled; at worst, the entire lineage would face execution.

And now, with even the white jade Guanyin—the Cao family’s most treasured possession—publicly displayed as a warning, the fate of those ledgers was all but sealed.

“Father, Second Brother and I will go immediately to sort through the questionable accounts and land deeds. We’ll burn what can be burned, conceal what can be hidden—we must erase all traces before Lord Song’s men uncover them.” After heated deliberation, the Lou family finally descended into panic.

Old Master Lou sighed inwardly, thinking it was already too late. He had underestimated Lord Song—and now his lifeline had been abruptly severed. The new emperor had chosen wisely—this was no ordinary man. “Invite him in. The rest of you, withdraw and begin handling matters immediately. The eldest remains to receive our guest with me. Also, dispatch messengers to summon the heads of the other families.”

There was no need to summon them. Upon hearing that Cao Jinfang’s white jade Guanyin had been publicly displayed, the other families instantly assumed he had betrayed them. Panic-stricken, they were beside themselves with dread. Before the Lou family’s messengers could even depart, they were already rushing toward the Lou residence, accompanied by their most trusted confidants.

Lord Song sat at the head of the assembly, his gaze calmly sweeping across the faces of the several Yangzhou patriarchs—each wearing a different expression. He made no haste to speak, allowing the oppressive silence to settle heavily over the parlor.

Old Master Lou remained relatively composed, but the other patriarchs—meeting this young governor for the first time and already sensing they were outmatched—fidgeted uneasily in their seats.

“Lord Song,” finally, an elder with snow-white hair and beard rose shakily to his feet. He was the head of the Ma family, a man of considerable standing in Yangzhou. Facing Lord Song now, he could no longer maintain his usual airs—yet swallowing his pride before someone so young proved equally difficult. But age had worn his patience thin. He forced a hollow smile. “We’ve long wished to host you—but feared your upright character would find little appeal in such affairs. Why not make today the occasion? Shall we prepare a banquet for you this evening?”

Lord Song replied in a deep, resonant voice: “No need. His Majesty has entrusted this official with implementing new policies in the south—not with indulging in pleasure.”

Old Master Ma laughed awkwardly. “This old man misspoke. Lord Song is wholly devoted to the nation—it is we who are too narrow-minded.”

The probing had already concluded upon Lord Song’s arrival in Yangzhou. Assassination attempts against Ge Quan had failed; bribes of gold, silver, and beauty couldn’t even get near Lord Song. Now, openly threatened, these families—whose generations-old roots in Yangzhou commanded respect even from ordinary officials—had never suffered such humiliation.

Yet with their vulnerabilities firmly in another’s grasp—and Cao Jinfang having turned against them—without the backing of a high-ranking local official, they were truly trapped between a rock and a hard place.

Old Master Lou closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. “Does Lord Song truly refuse to show us mercy? Must we stand as enemies?” Though his tone remained steady, the knuckles gripping his armrest had turned bone-white.

Lord Song did not answer him. Instead, he turned to Ge Quan and said, “Lord Ge, if you would be so kind as to hand me the annual tax ledgers.”

Ge Quan immediately produced a wooden box. Lord Song opened it, revealing a thick volume of tax records within.

A sharp creak echoed as several patriarchs hastily rose from their chairs, the wooden legs scraping harshly against the floor.

The atmosphere in the hall grew suffocating. All eyes were fixed on that thick ledger. Some faces had already twisted with vicious intent—as if weighing whether to silence Lord Song and seize the book on the spot. Fortunately, reason still held sway for some.

Old Master Lou asked, “What does Lord Song intend by this?”

Lord Song’s gaze was as sharp as a hawk’s, sweeping over every person present. “You are all intelligent men. Why play the fool? Land equalization is non-negotiable. The court does not seek to confiscate your lands without compensation. If you simply surrender the original deeds of purchase, the court will reimburse you the full amount stated therein—a solution benefiting both sides. And if you cooperate fully with officials during the land survey, you may even earn a reputation for ‘understanding the greater good and considering the whole picture.’ Future generations will remember you favorably—far better than living in constant fear and sleepless nights.”

He spoke all the pleasant words—but if it were truly that simple, would Old Master Lou and the others have driven themselves to this state? Only they knew how many “ownerless” lands they truly held.

Money was one thing—but how could they erase the crime of their land seizures?

Lord Song seemed to have come solely to deliver a warning. Having spoken his piece, he turned to leave, the ledger in hand. The others instinctively rose, faces taut, following behind him. The courtyard was lined with two rows of hired thugs; even the rooftops and walls were manned by martial arts experts.

Lord Song acted as if he saw none of it—as if oblivious to the tense standoff.

Ge Quan stood behind him. Casually, he snapped a flowering branch from the garden trellis beside the corridor. With a flick of his wrist—before anyone could even register where the branch landed—a thunderous crash erupted from the reception hall. The plaque hanging at the center of the hall suddenly split into pieces, heavy wood crashing down and sending dust scattering, making the patriarchs flinch.

Ge Quan brushed off his sleeve, as if merely flicking away a fallen petal.

The shattered plaque—bearing the four characters *Shì Dé Liú Fāng* (“Virtue Flowing Through Generations”)—lay broken and scattered—now seeming more like a silent mockery. Old Master Lou’s pupils contracted sharply. Those hidden fighters, confronted with Ge Quan’s effortless strike, were nothing but a laughable joke.

Lord Song did not look back, walking straight through the courtyard toward the gate. His silhouette was tall and resolute—without a trace of hesitation. The Lou family stood frozen in place, watching helplessly as he carried the ledger that held their very lives in his hands, escorted by Ge Quan, disappearing beyond the corridor at the end of the reception hall.

Only when Lord Song’s figure had vanished entirely did Old Master Lou collapse back into his chair, gasping for breath, his forehead slick with cold sweat. “Good… good one, Lord Song. This isn’t about land equalization at all—it’s a death warrant!”

Another patriarch’s face was deathly pale, his voice trembling. “That ledger… that ledger is in his hands. Do we… do we still have a way out?”

Old Master Lou slowly opened his eyes. The last trace of hope had faded, replaced by profound helplessness and gravity. He looked at the shattered plaque on the ground, then at the tightly shut gate. After a long silence, he spoke hoarsely: “A way out… perhaps there is still one. It only depends on whether we dare to take it.”

The others turned to look at him, a faint spark of hope flickering in their eyes. Lou the Elder urged, “Father—what plan do you have?”

Old Master Lou rubbed his aching brow and said in a low voice: “Lord Song wants land equalization—he wants the court’s policies implemented. He’s not seeking to fight us old men to the death. He brought out the ledger to force our hand—not to destroy us outright. Otherwise, he could have simply sent it directly to the capital. Why bother coming to our Lou residence in person and laying everything out so plainly?”

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the assembled men, his tone carrying grim finality: “He’s given us a choice—either surrender the land deeds, accept the court’s compensation, and preserve our families; or resist to the bitter end and be destroyed together.”

“But what about the ‘ownerless’ lands? And those transactions that can’t see the light of day…” someone asked anxiously.

“What to do?” Old Master Lou slammed the armrest, a fierce glint flashing in his eyes. “At this point, we must cut off our own arm to save the body! Report what can be reported. Losing some land and silver is far better than having the entire family executed! As for what truly cannot be exposed… we’ll have to find a way to offload it quickly—or make it ‘disappear’ entirely!”

“Then… then we just accept this?” Old Master Ma was unwilling. They had lorded over Yangzhou for so long—when had they ever suffered such indignity?

“What else can we do?” Old Master Lou gave a bitter laugh, gazing in the direction Lord Song had gone. “Every family must immediately inventory all land holdings—especially those acquired through questionable means. Those that can pay back taxes, pay them. Those that can be transferred, transfer them. And those that truly can’t be saved… well, we’ll just have to call it an act of God—lost to disaster.”

Cao Jinfang had moped at home all day. The next morning, he finally left the house and went to the yamen—only to learn that the entire city of Yangzhou had been thrown into chaos. Shock and fury washed over him as he realized he’d been played. His chest seized with pain again. He immediately ordered a carriage prepared, intending to go to the Lou residence.

“Oh, Lord Cao—recovered from your illness so soon? Why not stay home and rest a while longer?”

The familiar, sarcastic voice came from the entrance of the government office. Shen Chongshan maintained his usual refined scholar’s bearing, cradling a snow-white puppy in his arms—probably not even a month old. The maid Qiong Hua stood beside him, holding a bowl of goat’s milk.

Cao Jinfang ground his teeth. “Shen Chongshan—you’ve hidden your hand well. Even Old Master Lou probably doesn’t know you’ve been in league with Lord Song all along!”

He had planned to wait until the storm passed—until Lord Song slunk out of Yangzhou in disgrace—then have Old Master Lou approach Shen Chongshan to demand the return of his white jade Guanyin. But in a single night, his statue had ended up in Lord Song’s hands and been erected outside the Lou family’s gate. What more did Cao Jinfang need to understand? He’d been set up.

Shen Chongshan leisurely played with the puppy in his arms. The little dog extended its pink tongue to lick his fingers, letting out faint whimpers. He didn’t even look up. “Lord Cao—that’s not quite right. ‘In league’? This official is merely following the will of heaven and reading the times. The sage emperor is a genius among men, and Lord Song’s new policies benefit the nation and the people. Why shouldn’t I stand with him? As for you, Lord Cao—when the broad road was open before you, you chose to wade into murky waters. Now that you’ve landed in this state, you have no one to blame but yourself.”

“You’re full of shit!” Cao Jinfang pointed at Shen Chongshan and cursed.

Shen Chongshan looked at him with contempt. “You were a top scholar in your year—first in the imperial examinations. And yet you put such filth on your lips. Truly a disgrace to scholarship.”

Cao Jinfang couldn’t touch him. If he could, a mere scolding would have been the least of it.

"Lord Cao." A carriage drew up by the roadside, with Song Tingzhou and Ge Quan riding alongside on horseback.

Song Tingzhou dismounted and walked over to Cao Jinfang, his face perfectly calm. "You're no incompetent good-for-nothing; Yangzhou Prefecture has been well managed under your stewardship all these years. But greed must have its limits. The higher-ups might let small stuff slide, but over the years, you've pushed it way too far."

Cao Jinfang's lips twitched as he clutched the confession in his hand. "I do not understand Lord Song's meaning. I have always upheld the law fairly."

"Lord Cao, where do you intend to take that confession in your hand? The minor clerk named Liu Hu at the Cao Yun Office was sent back home this morning." Meng Wan lifted the carriage curtain, said with a sly grin.

Song Tingzhou's gaze shifted from the crumpled paper in Cao Jinfang's hand to his pallid face. "In the twenty-fifth year of the Qisheng reign, a flood struck Xialihe Town in Yangzhou. The polder fields around Fenghua Village were entirely destroyed, and farmers, unable to pay their taxes, were forced to sell their land. The Ma family sent their steward to the countryside, buying a mu of land for just one dou of rice—a fraction of its worth. When farmers refused, minor officials would have them arrested at the county office on charges of 'delinquent taxes,' compelling them to sell at rock-bottom prices. They then hired the landless farmers back as tenants and charged them rent."

He held no documents in his hand, yet he recounted the events purely from memory. "In the twenty-ninth year of the Qisheng reign, the Cheng family set their sights on a hundred mu of fertile land outside the city. Ignoring that it was ancestral property of the Chen family, they wrote to you, and the government office, citing the land as obstructing river dredging, seized it under the guise of official requisition."

"In the thirty-first year of the Qisheng reign, you personally intervened to help the Lou family register the land of several hundred small farmers under their name. These farmers needed only to pay a small 'protection fee' to the Lou family to evade government taxes. Three years later, the Lou family's landholdings had inflated from an original 1,900 mu to 19,000 mu, controlling vast swaths of Yangzhou."

With every word Song Tingzhou spoke, Cao Jinfang trembled uncontrollably. He looked into Song Tingzhou's clear, penetrating eyes, and all his excuses, anger, and resentment lodged in his throat, transforming into a bone-chilling cold that surged from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.

The game was up. Cao Jinfang collapsed limply to the ground.