Chapter 400 The Knight-Errant

Chapter 400: The Chivalrous Swordsman

Cao Jinfang had no choice but to take Ge Quan along to find the real annual tax registers.

That's right—the one Song Tingzhou had taken yesterday was a decoy, a copy of the *Book of Rites* with a swapped cover, so obvious that anyone who got close enough would spot it.

Cao Jinfang was lucky to be sick; if he weren't, the Embroidered Uniform Guards posted at his door would have made sure he couldn't step outside all day.

The group was set to leave the city with Cao Jinfang. Shen Chongshan seemed like just a passerby stopping by to watch the show, sauntering over casually to get his fill of Cao Jinfang's defeated look, then slinking off with his little puppy in his arms.

Before he left, he made sure to call out to Meng Wan in the carriage: "Meng Fulang, don't you think my maidservant's face is a little lopsided?"

Meng Wan lifted the carriage curtain and said helplessly, "Lord Shen, didn't we agree to play along with this from the start? Miss Qiong Hua getting tortured wasn't what I wanted."

Meng Wan had been quick on his feet back then, flushing out the culprit in no time. After going back and forth among the three sides, they decided to go along with it and pin the whole thing on Consort Rong to mislead the great clans. Conveniently, Consort Rong was pregnant, so she could lie low and rest up.

Only two of the younger Shens and Shen's second wife, who'd been used as a decoy, had genuinely worried. As for the rest, from Consort Rong to Shen Chongshan way off in Yangzhou, none of them were pushovers.

Shen Chongshan's memorial to the emperor was just eight characters long: "Your humble servant will abide by Your Majesty's decision."

Having clawed his way up on his own, Shen Chongshan had already milked every person and connection for all they were worth. After the new emperor took the throne and let slip that he wanted someone to work alongside Song Tingzhou, while others were still scratching their heads, he'd already climbed on board—even offering up his favorite second daughter.

"Ah, poor Qiong Hua," Shen Chongshan sighed heavily, genuinely concerned about his maidservant's future. "She was never much to look at to begin with, not like Meng Fulang, with your drop-dead gorgeous looks. Now that her face is all lopsided, she probably won't find a husband at all."

Qiong Hua nearly buried her face in the dog bowl. So humiliating—beyond humiliating. Her master only cared about scamming money, never about their wellbeing.

Meng Wan rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "Lord Shen, half of that gold and silver was allocated by the Ministry of Revenue to push the new policies; the rest was my own money. From my share, I'll set aside ten thousand taels of silver as a 'dowry' for Miss Qiong Hua, how about that?"

Prying even a copper coin out of Kou Wen was harder than scaling the heavens—that money was absolutely off-limits.

Shen Chongshan figured free silver was free silver, but he hadn't expected Meng Wan to be so generous. Without a hint of shame, he pushed his luck even further: "Well, my maidservant's future is settled, but my eldest son remains single. I hear Grand Secretary Gu's second daughter in the capital is brilliant and sharp at business, and she's pretty tight with Meng Fulang. How about..."

Meng Wan: "..."

This was the first time he'd met anyone so shameless—fleecing him for silver one minute, then having the nerve to ask him to set up his son with a match the next. Anyone would think Shen Chongshan was the one handing Meng Wan ten thousand taels.

"I'll go ask when I'm back in the capital. No promises."

Shen Chongshan was thrilled. "Don't worry, you two—I'll have that gold and silver carried right back to where you're staying."

"Don't!" Meng Wan stopped him. "No rush. We'll swing by the Shen place on our way back to pick it up."

If they filled the boxes with rocks and hauled them back, he'd have nowhere to cry about it.

Shen Chongshan shook his head and gave a bitter smile. "Meng Fulang doesn't trust me, huh?"

"Correct." Meng Wan looked Shen Chongshan straight in the eye, not even bothering to fake it.

Shen Chongshan was caught off guard, then slunk off, dragged away by the poker-faced Qiong Hua.

Cao Jinfang watched Shen Chongshan get taken down a peg and started to curl his lips into a smile, but stopped halfway. He'd been played by both sides—what right did he have to laugh!

Cao Jinfang guided the carriage out of the city and stopped at an ordinary farmhouse. He dug the annual tax registers out of a stinking pigsty.

Ge Quan covered his nose with a handkerchief and complained to Song Tingzhou, "No wonder I couldn't find them at the yamen or his house. He really knows how to hide things."

Who would've guessed?

There wasn't just one register—the three most important years were all here.

Once Song Tingzhou got his hands on the registers, he immediately started organizing a survey of the farmland. The great clans' tax dodging would be offset against the taxes on the seized farmland, balancing each other out.

For land that had been legitimately purchased, as long as the deed was produced, the court would levy taxes according to the amount on the deed. The confiscated land could be purchased by commoners under the new regulations; poor farmers, tenant farmers, and refugees who qualified only needed to pay half the price, with the remainder offset against their autumn grain taxes over three years.

It was an enormous undertaking with complicated follow-up procedures. Song Tingzhou still needed to inspect Suzhou Prefecture and Lin'an Prefecture. If he left the administration here to Cao Jinfang, everything they'd accomplished would be undone. So he memorialized the emperor, requesting someone else be sent to take over.

The emperor received his memorial and, impressed that Song Tingzhou had resolved the Yangzhou clans so swiftly, immediately dispatched a replacement by fast horse.

The man sent was none other than Song Tingzhou's old acquaintance—Wang Zan, Left Vice Censor-in-Chief of the Censorate.

As for Cao Jinfang, the man had talent, but he was no longer fit to remain in Yangzhou. After the year-end court audience, he would surely be assigned elsewhere.

Corrupt officials could never be eradicated entirely; knowing how to use people wisely was the true art of emperorship.

---

"Master, it was all this servant's cowardice and poor management that led to Lord Bao being captured. This servant is ashamed before you and willingly accepts punishment."

Zhao De's face burned with shame, unable to look anyone in the eye. Bao He'er had long since been released and now also dared not face Meng Wan.

"I won't punish you, but this small establishment truly cannot accommodate a figure of your caliber. You and your distant nephew will both collect this month's wages and be on your way." Meng Wan sat in the post station, toying with a reply letter from Yu Wendong. A new manager had already been selected and was on his way. Now that no one in Yangzhou's grain transport dared to provoke the Shijian Post Station, even without a manager, Bao He'er alone would suffice.

Meng Wan had a kind heart, but he wasn't a living bodhisattva. Knowing Zhao De was incompetent, he wouldn't keep him on.

Zhao De looked dejected. He'd anticipated being dismissed, but now that the moment had come, the disappointment was hard to shake. He could only console himself that he was getting old—returning to his hometown to dote on grandchildren wouldn't be so bad.

Bao He'er was a young man new to the world. Watching Zhao De's retreating figure, he opened his mouth to plead for him but couldn't find the words in front of Meng Wan.

Meng Wan paid no attention to his feelings. He instructed, "Postmaster Bao, please look after the station diligently for the time being. Until the new manager arrives, handle all matters as you see fit. If you encounter difficulties, go to the higher-ranking officials—whether it's the prefectural yamen, the Salt Transport Commission, or the Grain Transport Office, any of them will do."

He was about to leave Yangzhou with Song Tingzhou. Having settled the station's affairs, he was ready to depart, so he'd come to give his instructions first.

---

In mid-May, the Suzhou region was shrouded in misty rain, the air thick with damp earth and faint fragrance of vegetation. Fine, silken raindrops fell gently, adding a touch of moisture.

Weather like this was perfect for sitting in a pavilion, sipping tea and watching the rain. Yet on the cement-paved official road outside the city came the urgent thunder of hooves.

A dozen black-clad riders wearing bamboo rain hats spurred their horses in furious pursuit of a lone rider fleeing ahead.

The pursued man wore a deep crimson official robe, soaked through and clinging to his plump, fleshy frame. The lines at his eyes were taut, deep furrows etched between his brows. His grip on the reins was deathly tight, knuckles white from strain. His horse was clearly at its limit—breathing heavily, stumbling on the slick road, its pace gradually slowing.

The black-clad riders drew closer, the long blades in their hands occasionally catching glints of cold light through the rain curtain, like vengeful spirits demanding their due.

The leader, face masked, pursued with the leisurely patience of a cat toying with a mouse, occasionally issuing threats: "Lord Li, why keep struggling? Lord Guang said that if you hand over the item, he'll spare your entire family. But if you remain obstinate, your household left behind in Suzhou—their safety cannot be guaranteed."

This Lord Li was none other than the Suzhou Prefect. Over the past few days, he'd sensed he was being watched on his way to the yamen, and combined with the rumors spreading throughout the south, fear had surged through him like a tide. He couldn't sit still at home or at work.

Today's ambush was something he'd anticipated. By luring them away himself, his family should have already escaped through the southern city gate.

Rain mixed with cold sweat trickled down his temples. Lord Li wiped the water from his face and felt with one hand for the ledger wrapped in layers of oil paper against his chest. These documents were of grave importance—if they fell into the wrong hands, he would be doomed beyond redemption.

He didn't dare respond. Lord Li lashed his horse's hindquarters with all his strength, trying to wring the last ounce of energy from his poor mount.

The reeds beside the official road swayed wildly in the wind and rain, rustling as if providing accompaniment to this desperate chase.

"Sir, whatever is the matter?"

An oxcart rattled over the flagstone road, splashing droplets of water. The sound of its wheels rolling was unusually clear through the rain, carrying a hint of distant elegance. The driver was a grown man—even seated, one could tell he was tall and lean. He wore an ordinary straw rain cape, his back straight as a board, with long arms and long legs.

The cart was fitted with a simple canopy of raincloth, barely enough to shield against wind and rain. Beneath it sat a young man in hemp clothing, around twenty-something years old, plainly dressed, with his hair simply tied into a bun with a black cloth strip. Yet his striking features shimmered faintly through the misty rain, beautiful beyond compare.

It was this young man who had just spoken to Lord Li.

As they observed the two, Lord Li's horse had nearly drawn up alongside their oxcart.

Seeing the pursuers closing in fast, Lord Li gritted his teeth, having resolved to use these two unfortunate passersby to buy himself a moment's delay.

He yanked hard on the reins, and his horse reared up from the momentum, letting out a shrill whinny. Seizing this brief pause, a flash of ruthlessness crossed Lord Li's eyes. His right hand swiftly produced a booklet from his sleeve pocket, and without a second glance, he hurled it toward the hemp-clad young man in the cart's canopy, shouting in a hoarse voice, "I carry a heavy responsibility for countless lives, pursued by villains! I beg you two to take this evidence to the office of the Provincial Administration Commissioner in Yingtian Prefecture."

The sudden turn of events left everyone—the pursuing black-clad riders, the cart driver, and the young man in the canopy—momentarily stunned. The booklet arced through the air, heavy with rain, and flew straight toward the canopy.

The hemp-clad young man instinctively reached out to catch it, and the booklet landed steadily in his arms, weighty, still damp with rain and carrying the sweat of Lord Li. He looked up at Lord Li, his clear, bright eyes strikingly beautiful in the mist.

"You're asking for it!" The leader of the black-clad riders, seeing the item casually tossed to a passerby, roared in fury, swinging his long blade. "Kill these two meddlers first! The rest of you, chase down Li!"

Several black-clad riders immediately split into two groups—one squad spurred their horses toward the oxcart, their movements fierce, blades glinting menacingly through the rain.

Lord Li, seizing the brief chaos, whipped his horse again, trying to break through the encirclement.

Behind him came the clamor of fighting. Lord Li's heart pounded—could those two actually be skilled fighters? Could they really be holding their own against those men?

But the black-clad riders were numerous; even with several peeled off to deal with the cart, half still remained hot on Lord Li's heels.

By now, the leader had run out of patience for games, focused solely on capturing Lord Li. With a powerful swing of his broadsword, he struck the hind leg of Lord Li's mount.

The horse, screaming in pain, let out a mournful whinny, its front legs buckling as it crashed heavily to the ground, hurling Lord Li to the ground. He tumbled several times across the muddy ground, covered in mud, a sharp pain searing through his chest, leaving him barely able to breathe. Before he could scramble to his feet, the cold edge of a blade was already pressed against his neck.

Lord Li closed his eyes in despair, but his hand crept toward his chest—even if he died, he'd destroy the item first.

At that critical moment, a dark figure shot out from the reeds beside the official road like a phantom, moving so fast it left a faint blur in the rain.

The figure held two slender willow branches. With a flick of the wrist, the branches traced several graceful arcs through the air, striking dead-on at the black-clad man's blade.

"Ah!" With a pained yelp, the man's long blade flew from his hand, clattering to the ground.

The man with the willow branches was clearly a martial arts master—unarmed, yet he took down the whole group in under ten moves. Realizing that fighting on would get them neither Lord Li nor the item—and might cost them their lives—the black-clad riders let out a frustrated roar: "Fall back!"

The riders pulled back fast. Lord Li, having just cheated death, felt like laughing out loud, but he held it in. He could tell these people were on the same side and highly skilled, so he quickly tried to win them over: "Thank you, heroes, for your help. As you can see, I carry something of utmost importance, tied to the fate of Suzhou's people, which is why villains have targeted me to silence me. You are all formidable fighters. I'm Li, and I humbly beg you—could you escort me to Yingtian Prefecture? I'll reward you handsomely for it!"

The young man hesitated, glancing at the man beside him. "Husband, this..."

Officials sure knew how to talk, putting them on a pedestal of righteousness. Had they been ordinary hot-blooded wandering martial artists, they might well have agreed.

The cart driver mulled it over for a moment. "Since it's a matter of honor and justice, we can't exactly refuse. But if we take you along to Yingtian Prefecture, we'd stand out too much and might get ambushed again."

The master who had saved Lord Li chimed in, "Those black-clad riders won't give up easily. If they come in greater numbers next time, we may not be able to hold them off."

Lord Li could see the logic. He knew those people wouldn't let him go. Gritting his teeth, with no other choice, he steeled himself and pulled out the oil-paper-wrapped document from his robes. "In that case, I'll trouble you to deliver this to Yingtian Prefecture. I'll find a way to lie low for a while myself."

The young man took the oil-paper bundle and, right before Lord Li's eyes, began peeling back the layers.

Lord Li's eyelid twitched. "Young man, no! This is a confidential document meant for the Provincial Administration Commissioner's office in Yingtian Prefecture. You must not open it!"

But once the item was in hand, the young man's demeanor shifted completely. Ignoring the warning, he tore away all the oil paper, skimmed the first few pages, then snapped it shut and tucked it into his robes with a faint, cool smile.

That smile was like a signal. The man beside him looked up, revealing a stern, cold face.

"Suzhou Prefect Li Xiuwen? Do you know what you've done."