Chapter 401: Searching the Xu Estate, Exhuming Xu Jie's Grave

That night, the entire city of Suzhou was placed under martial law by the Garrison Commander's troops. Long streets and narrow alleys alike were filled with armored soldiers patrolling with spears, their bootsteps thudding against the blue-brick walls, pressing the city's night into an even deeper stillness.

Fast riders frequently galloped out through the city gates, bearing secret orders to the prefectures of Nanjing, Hangzhou, and Songjiang.

Within the Suzhou Prefectural Office, lamps burned all night without cease. All three shifts of yamen runners were on duty, and no one dared show the slightest slack.

Prefect Gu Yanwu sat in judgment in the main hall, conducting night interrogations of the prisoners from the temple-wailing incident.

In the daytime temple-wailing affair, a total of thirty-four ringleaders had been arrested—among them commoners, government students, and even estate stewards and managers from the Xu household—all now awaiting interrogation.

The village schoolteacher, Mr. Wang, was first brought before the hall. Seeing the imposing array of the prefectural yamen, his legs had already gone weak.

In his heart he was filled with the deepest regret, thinking: "It shouldn't have come to this, it shouldn't have come to this... The estate steward clearly told me that if we made a fuss, the authorities would back down. How did it come to this pass...

If I'd known heads would roll, never mind two taels of silver—even if you gave me twenty taels, I shouldn't have waded into this muddy water...

Third Brother, oh Third Brother, I've wronged you. If you have a spirit in heaven, forgive me this once. For the rest of my life I'll work like an ox or a horse, I'll help raise your orphaned children, bring your son and daughter to adulthood..."

"Slap!" The gavel struck the bench.

Mr. Wang collapsed to the ground in sheer terror. He looked up and saw Gu Yanwu staring at him with icy cold eyes.

On Gu Yanwu's desk lay the autopsy report just written by the coroner, along with the statements just recorded by clerks in the village—the ink on them still wet. "The scholar Wang Xuesen: Shen Laosan hanged himself at the hour of zi, his body was discovered at ke two of the hour of mao, and you went to the scene immediately. After comforting the widow, you returned home at the end of ke three of the hour of chen, and at the beginning of ke four of the hour of si you wrote out a public denunciation. Is this true?"

"Y-yes... yes." Mr. Wang's voice was hollow.

Gu Yanwu said coldly: "One denunciation, a full six hundred and thirty-five characters, detailed in narrative, refined in diction—and you wrote it in a quarter of an hour? Are you clairvoyant, or was this premeditated?"

Mr. Wang's expression was panicked, cold sweat streaming down: "This humble one... this humble one was moved by righteous indignation, and so wrote quickly. Yes..."

Gu Yanwu gave a cold snort: "Still daring to quibble? You will write out today's temple-wailing affair as a denunciation here in this hall. Let this prefect see what flowers you can produce in a quarter of an hour."

With that, the clerk of punishments stepped forward and handed Mr. Wang paper and brush.

He took them, held the brush suspended over the paper, his mind a complete blank. A drop of cold sweat traced down his jaw and fell with a "tap" onto the paper, soaking it. Mr. Wang was a failed scholar who had never passed the examinations—hollow-bellied, able only to teach village children for a meager living. With his mind in utter chaos now, how could he piece together even half a sentence?

In the blink of an eye a quarter of an hour passed. Mr. Wang's forehead grew ever sweatier, nearly half the sheet soaked through, yet he had managed barely a hundred characters. Finally unable to bear it, he threw down the brush and kowtowed: "This humble one is guilty—this humble one confesses everything... It was Xu Zhong, the Xu estate steward. He gave me two taels of silver and told me what to say...

He said Shen Laosan was honest and dull, easy to manipulate, and that whatever I said, Third Brother would surely believe..."

Gu Yanwu said: "Tell the whole story in detail."

A little over half an hour later, Mr. Wang finished giving his statement and affixed his fingerprint. His face was already ashen, his body utterly spent, barely able to stand—two yamen runners had to support him as they dragged him away.

Gu Yanwu said: "Bring in Xu Zhong, the Xu estate steward."

Xu Zhong was brought before the hall and immediately knelt: "This humble one confesses—it was all my own doing. The authorities were surveying and registering land, and once the hidden fields at Beiyantou Village were cleared, my position was lost. In a fit of desperation I took a reckless risk and committed this great error. This humble one admits his guilt—please, Your Honor, dispose of me as you see fit."

Gu Yanwu said flatly: "Who taught you to say that?"

Xu Zhong froze, then stammered: "This humble one... this humble one thought of it myself."

"You are from Qingpu? After you die, how much benefit will the Xu family give your family? Do you have any leverage against the Xu family? Do you think the Xu family will find it more convenient to support your family well, or to dispose of them along with you?"

Xu Zhong's body trembled, but he still did not change his story.

At this moment, Lin Qian, who had been sitting to one side listening all along, spoke: "This king has already sent men to search the Huating Xu estate. If you confess honestly, you may yet save your family's lives. If not, your entire household will be buried alongside the Xu clan."

Xu Zhong's expression was frantic, sweat pouring from his brow like rain. Unable to bear the pressure at last, he said: "This matter was ordered by the household steward, Xu Jin. He told me to find an honest farming family to serve as a scapegoat, then blow the matter up...

The village head, the village schoolteacher, the local worthies, and several of the government students who wailed at the temple—all of them were hired by me with money..."

The clerk recorded his statement, then he signed and affixed his fingerprint.

Afterward, Gu Yanwu interrogated the three xiucai who had led the disturbance. These three had no valuable information left to give—they were only brought in to solidify the chain of evidence. Lin Qian left the main hall from behind the screen wall and called over Geng Wu, saying: "First, arrest Xu Jin, the steward of the Huating Xu household, tonight!

Search the estate on the spot, interrogate, record statements—and anyone the steward implicates from the Xu household, arrest them all as well.

Second, send orders to Zhang Moye to dispatch a brigade of cavalry into Songjiang. Surround the Xu estate tightly, from inside to out—including all their pawnshops, farmland manors, and villas. Not a single person is to escape.

Third, order the garrison troops of Huating, Changshu, Wuxi, and Nanjing to monitor on-site the residences of major households including Qian Qianyi, Dong Qichang, Gu Yumu, and Zhou Yanru. Seal the city gates, ferry crossings, and mountain passes. Their clan's core members are not to leave their residences. Anyone subsequently implicated in the case is to be arrested immediately!"

"Yes!" Geng Wu clasped his fists in acknowledgment, turned, and left, his footsteps fading down the corridor.

Lin Qian gazed out past the corridor. Moonlight was clear and cold; the north wind blew through, biting and bone-chilling.

The next day at the fifth watch, Huating County town was still steeped in morning mist.

The Xu family's vermilion gates were tightly shut. The hitching posts and dismounting stones before the door still bore the glory of a household that had produced a Chief Grand Secretary of the previous reign.

Xu Yuanpu was accustomed to rising at the hour of yin. As a servant boy attended to his washing, the household steward Xu Jin stepped forward to report: "Master, the matter you instructed has been handled. The land survey drove a farmer to his death. When the Suzhou scholars heard the news, their indignation ran high—nearly a thousand gathered to wail at the temple. A considerable spectacle, to say the least." Xu Yuanpu could not suppress the smugness at the corners of his mouth. He tilted his head back to rinse his mouth, spat the water into the spittoon held high by a maidservant, wiped his lips with a Songjiang cotton cloth, and said: "How did the prefectural office react?"

"That Gu Yanwu is a tough bone. He sent troops to arrest the leading scholars and the estate's steward. But they won't find any real leverage—rest assured, Master."

Xu Yuanpu was somewhat surprised, but made no comment. He had dared to send his estate steward to stir up trouble precisely because he was not afraid of arrests.

Though the Xu household currently held no great ministers at court, relying on the residual prestige of a Chief Grand Secretary's lineage from the previous reign, two centuries of accumulated land and wealth, and deeply entrenched connections throughout the scholarly world, it remained the anchor of the Jiangnan gentry.

Through pawnbroking, usury, cotton spinning, grain transport by canal, and brokerage houses, the Xu household held nearly half of Songjiang—along with Taicang, Jiaxing, and other places—firmly in its grip.

When Xu Yuanpu stamped his foot, the entire Jiangnan officialdom trembled three times.

Hai Rui of the previous reign—was he not iron-faced and impartial? Gao Gong—was he not high in office and mighty in power? Both of these men had tried to topple the Xu household, and the Xu household still stood unshaken. To think that the testimony of a mere estate steward could bring down such a great hereditary clan—sheer fantasy.

"What is the Suzhou Prefect's name?"

"Gu Yanwu, Master."

Xu Yuanpu gave a cold snort: "A wet-behind-the-ears whelp."

At the thought that this affair had effectively fed a fly to the Great Xia, Xu Yuanpu felt a surge of satisfaction.

"Once this matter is settled, watch which way the wind blows. If that sea bandit remains obstinate and still pushes the land survey, next time we'll do it even more ruthlessly—provoke a full-scale popular uprising!" "Yes, this humble one has already scouted several candidates."

"That deer product bought from Fujian agrees with me quite well. Have the household purchaser procure more of it another day."

"Yes." Xu Jin smiled obsequiously. "Master, the various land manors sent up more than ten young maidens yesterday."

Xu Yuanpu smiled faintly and was about to inquire in detail.

Suddenly, from beyond the estate, a faint rumbling like thunder could be heard.

Just as he and the steward exchanged bewildered glances, a guard came rushing in with a panicked report: "Master! Terrible news! A troop of soldiers has arrived—the... the estate is surrounded!" Xu Yuanpu's movements halted, his brow furrowing slightly, though his voice remained steady: "What are you panicking about? Is it the county yamen or the prefectural yamen? Send my name card over." The guard shook his head frantically: "Neither—it's the Great Xia cavalry!"

Even as they spoke, the muffled-thunder sound of hooves grew ever more pronounced, ripples spreading across the tea in their cups.

"Preposterous!" Xu Yuanpu snapped.

In his simple understanding, the Huating Xu clan were figures like local feudal lords. Never mind a Prefect—even if a Provincial Administration Commissioner came to Huating, he would have to call upon the descendants of Grand Secretary Xu with all due courtesy.

Dare to surround the Xu residence? Utterly absurd.

At that moment, another person ran in from outside—it was Xu Yuanpu's son, Xu Yingzi.

"Father! Great Xia's cavalry have entered the manor, saying they've been ordered by imperial decree to make arrests. They've surrounded the front and back gates and all the courtyard walls—what do we do, Father?" No sooner had he spoken than two bangs rang out from the front courtyard—clearly the sound of firelocks.

"They fired? They actually fired?" Xu Yuanpu stumbled back a step in fright, knocking over a basin of hot water with a loud clatter. The Xu family was enormously wealthy and kept countless guards and hired thugs, but these men could only bully the countryside—against regular troops, they faced certain death.

"Father, what do we do?"

Xu Yuanpu was panicking now and hastily asked, "Who are they after?"

Before his son could answer, the inner courtyard gate was kicked open. Since the Xia army had already fired, none of the household servants or guards dared to block them.

A squad of soldiers rushed into the courtyard in a clamor, throwing open every door to search.

Xu Yuanpu knew there was no escape, so he said bluntly, "I'll go face these soldier-brigand pirates myself! Open the door!"

The door opened, and Xu Yuanpu walked out slowly to find the inner courtyard packed with soldiers in crow-blue uniforms, every one holding a rifle, bayonets glinting coldly enough to dazzle the eyes.

"I am Xu Yuanpu. Your army barges into my residence without cause—what is the meaning of this? Aren't you afraid—"

The lead Xia officer swept a cold gaze over him and barked directly, "Where is the steward, Xu Jin?"

No one answered, but the servants' eyes flicked toward the steward, and the officer caught it. He pointed and ordered, "Take him!"

The Xia soldiers moved fast, swooping in like eagles on rabbits, and seized Xu Jin at once.

"On what grounds do you seize me? I'm innocent, innocent! Master, save—" Xu Jin struggled ceaselessly.

Xu Jin was still babbling when a rifle butt slammed straight into his face, and blood immediately gushed from his nose.

Xu Jin was left with nothing but screams of pain.

The Xia army's rough handling cowed everyone in the Xu household; no one dared speak another word.

The officer said, "I am Ma Bingjie, regimental commander of the First Cavalry Regiment of the Xia army, ordered to take you in for questioning.

What relation are you to Xu Zhong, estate head of the Xu family in Suzhou? And what is your connection to the death of Old Shen and the incitement of the scholars to wail at the temple?" Xu Jin looked somewhat flustered but forced himself to say, "What are you talking about? I don't understand! Let me go—"

Ma Bingjie sneered, "Take him away. Let him think it over properly!"

"Yes, sir!" Several Xia soldiers dragged Xu Jin off like a dead pig.

Then Ma Bingjie said, "Search! Find every letter and account book!"

"Yes, sir!" The soldiers around him acknowledged and scattered into the estate, throwing everything into chaos.

Xu Yuanpu, burning with rage, roared, "I am the grandson of Xu Wenzhen, Grand Tutor of the former dynasty, and an Imperial Academy student by examination.

You break into a meritorious minister's residence without evidence, kill my guards and servants—do you not fear the censure of the scholarly world?"

"Meritorious minister?" Ma Bingjie smiled ambiguously and advanced step by step toward Xu Yuanpu.

"You—what do you think you're doing?" Xu Yuanpu retreated two steps in succession, fierce in appearance but weak within.

Ma Bingjie reached out his right hand and patted Xu Yuanpu's face—a gesture of utter humiliation.

"Still think you're living under the Great Ming? His Majesty gave you face, and you wouldn't take it—don't blame us for being ruthless!"

"You, you... you have some nerve! A mere soldier, so arrogant and lawless! I will certainly impeach you—I'll write denunciations everywhere and let the whole world see how this new dynasty humiliates the learned!"

"Bring up the evidence." Ma Bingjie barked.

His men quickly brought up two crossbows, still flecked with traces of blood.

Huating County had the precedent of "the people burning the Dong official's residence," so the Xu household guards had kept two forbidden crossbows to defend against mobs.

Taken to the extreme, these could be construed as evidence of treason.

But Xu Yuanpu showed no panic at all: "A mere two crossbows, and you think you can destroy my Xu clan utterly? You underestimate things far too easily."

Ma Bingjie said, "We'll see about that."

With that, he had his men bring over a table and chairs, and sat himself down in the Xu residence.

Before long, the Qingping Bureau's men arrived, and over a hundred abacuses were set up in the courtyard to audit the account books on the spot.

Meanwhile, Xu Jin's wailing continued without pause. After a while, his wife and children were summoned inside, and then the household servants were called in one by one.

The sound of abacuses continued until evening, yet Xu Yuanpu's expression remained unperturbed.

At night, Zhang Moye entered the residence and asked, "How goes it?"

The Qingping Bureau's director said in a low voice, "There are too many account books—we've only just gone through a small portion. We've also searched the hidden compartments and the rockery garden, but found nothing wrong." Zhang Moye said, "The account books are all laid out in the residence. The Xu clan is vast in enterprise—they wouldn't necessarily leave their vulnerabilities so conspicuous. Has that steward talked?" Ma Bingjie said with some difficulty, "That dog is stubborn as nails. He only implicates insignificant people and won't say a single word against the Xu family. I suppose this is what they call the foundation of a noble house."

Zhang Moye frowned slightly: "In about half a month, it will be the day of the public trial in Suzhou. We don't have much time, and we can't afford to grind away. Is there any way to break this deadlock?"

Ma Bingjie clenched his fist: "Use heavy torture!"

Zhang Moye shook his head: "If we beat him too badly, he might recant in court and claim we extracted a confession by torture—then we'd be on the defensive."

The Qingping Bureau director said, "General, have you found any leads in the Xu estates, pawnshops, and villas?"

"No."

Xu Yuanpu's sarcastic voice drifted over: "The night watch has already sounded the third drum. You gentlemen work so diligently—surely you don't intend to lodge here in my humble home?"

No one paid him any mind. The Qingping Bureau director said gravely, "There is one more place we haven't searched, but it carries too much weight, and I fear—" Zhang Moye's gaze sharpened, and he urged, "Speak quickly!"

"The Xu ancestral graves, on Little Kun Mountain, about twenty li from here."

Zhang Moye hesitated slightly: "Digging up graves to find the evidence... how certain are you?"

"The Xu clan is vast—they must have secret accounts somewhere. Most Jiangnan gentry families like to hide things in their ancestral graves, gambling that others will be too concerned about propriety to dig. Now that we've searched everywhere else without result, it's nine times out of ten hidden in the ancestral graves."

Zhang Moye thought for a moment, then said, "We'll go dig. Bring that Xu Yuanpu along."

Several soldiers stepped forward.

Xu Yuanpu immediately cried out in alarm, "What are you doing? Let go! This is an outrage against decency! Let go at once!"

He was dragged and hauled out of the residence by the soldiers and thrown onto a horse, and then the cavalry rode off toward the northwest.

Once Xu Yuanpu discerned the direction, his heart suddenly sank.

In the latter half of the night, they arrived at the Xu ancestral graves.

On the mountain path, pines and cypresses stood thick and somber, and the tomb avenue was solemn and still.

The three clan elders guarding the tomb had long since heard the commotion and blocked the tomb path, beating their chests and stamping their feet: "How dare you break into the Xu clan ancestral graves! Do you not fear Heaven's punishment? Disturbing Grand Secretary Xu's tomb—do you not fear the scorn of Jiangnan's scholars?"

"If you insist on breaking into the graves today, you will have to step over this old man's corpse."

With that said, the three clan elders actually lay down directly in the middle of the road.

Zhang Moye waved his hand, and several mounted infantrymen dismounted and carried the three elders to the roadside as if they were lifting barricades.

The Xu clan elders struggled without cease, so they simply bound them with rope and tossed them by the roadside.

"Move out!" Zhang Moye waved his hand, and the entire company spurred their horses forward, arriving at the gate of the Xu ancestral cemetery in a moment.

There were four or five tomb-keepers' huts here, where the grave guardians lived, and faint firelight still flickered within.

The mounted infantrymen burst through the doors to find charcoal braziers set up in the rooms, the air thick with paper scraps, and half-burned account books in the basins. Several young clerks huddled in the corners, staring at the Xia army in terror.

The mounted infantrymen subdued the clerks, doused the charcoal fires, rescued the account books, and presented them to the Director of the Qingping Bureau.

There were still scattered sparks on the ledgers. The Director blew them out, flipped through the books roughly, and laughed: "This is a set of false accounts—we've found the real thing!" Zhang Moye dismounted and ordered his men to bring Xu Yuanpu forward.

By now Xu Yuanpu's legs had turned to jelly; he could only stand with a man supporting him on each side.

He muttered in a trembling voice: "What are you doing? This is the Xu ancestral cemetery! The tomb of Lord Xu Wenzhen lies within—dare to touch it, and by tomorrow denunciations will be plastered across Songjiang Prefecture. Every scholar in Jiangnan will be your enemy!"

Zhang Moye said calmly: "Which grave mound holds the secret accounts? Tell us yourself, and spare your Xu ancestors some dignity." "There are none! Nonsense! What secret accounts? Slander—pure blood libel!"

Zhang Moye wasted no more words. He waved his hand: "Dig!"

His soldiers put shovels to work, and Xu Yuanpu wept hoarsely and desperately, as if every stroke struck his very heart.

After the better part of an hour, four grave mounds had been opened, containing nothing but coffins and bleached bones.

Xu Yuanpu could only wail, weeping until he could scarcely draw breath.

Zhang Moye's gaze fell upon the center of the cemetery—the largest burial mound, before which stood a green stone stele inscribed in large seal script: "Tomb of Xu Wenzhen, Junior Preceptor of the Ming." This was Xu Jie's grave.

Zhang Moye steeled himself and said: "Dig this one first!"

Xu Yuanpu felt as if pricked by needles and tried every obstruction, but in the end he could not stop the Xia soldiers' shovels.

They dug less than three feet before the shovels struck green stone slabs. Prying the slabs open revealed a pitch-black underground vault.

Zhang Moye ordered men to descend with torches to scout the way. Before long, a hidden door opened on the side of the tomb mound, and the mounted infantrymen emerged from it. "General, there are three chambers below, filled with countless treasures, letters, and account ledgers."

Zhang Moye said coldly to Xu Yuanpu: "After you."

Xu Yuanpu was escorted into the vault, with Zhang Moye and the Qingping physician following behind.

The vault proved to be vast. The outermost layer consisted of silver chests stacked in neat rows so deep one could not count the tiers—only that the inner chests were thick with dust.

The middle layer held all manner of treasures: mutton-fat jade ornaments, red coral trees, rhinoceros-horn carved cups, ivory brush holders, Xuande bronze censers, Song dynasty imperial kiln porcelain, Tianhuang stone seals—all rare treasures of the age. Under the torchlight they shimmered with dazzling splendor, enough to bewilder the eye.

In the innermost chamber, dozens of wooden racks lined the walls, upon which sat over ten thousand account ledgers arranged in perfect order. The oldest volumes had pages curled and yellowed. Their covers were covered in dense small script—indecipherable tadpole-like secret writing.

Zhang Moye sneered: "Xu, do you have anything else to say?"

Xu Yuanpu's gaze had already gone vacant, his face deathly pale, sweat pouring down like rain, his whole body collapsing like mud. Yet even now he feigned ignorance and protested: "This—who put all these secret accounts in my family's ancestral graves?"

Zhang Moye said: "So now you admit they're secret accounts?"

Xu Yuanpu was struck dumb, then his face crumpled entirely, leaving only bitter weeping: "A hundred years of family honor, destroyed in a—"

The Qingping physician looked around the vault and sighed: "Tsk tsk. Grand Secretary Xu was a famed minister of his generation, yet his unfilial descendants stuffed secret accounts and ill-gotten gold into his tomb like magpies seizing a dove's nest. Truly the height of filial impiety. Who knows where the old gentleman's remains have been moved to."

Zhang Moye said: "I have heard that Xu Jie, burdened in his lifetime by his family's younger generation, left behind the verse 'Weary of home soil, buried in Huzhou.' It seems his true grave is not here."

In any case, the Qingping Bureau must tally the rough figures before the Suzhou public trial."

The Director's eyes gleamed: "Rest assured—even if I must work without sleep, I will get it done."

Around dawn, Zhang Moye escorted the ledgers and prisoners back to the Xu mansion in Huating.

Several days later, all Xu family members implicated in the case, along with the key evidence, were transported to Suzhou.

Soldiers stepped forward, removed Xu Yuanpu's headcloth, and fitted him with the cangue and shackles. The instant the irons touched his body, Xu Yuanpu shuddered from the cold. This master of the Xu household—who had lived his entire life in comfort and ease, whose very moods the Huating County Magistrate had to read—was escorted by Xia soldiers past the vermilion gates, past the dismounting stone before the door.

The streets were already packed with common folk, pointing and whispering among themselves.

"Hahaha, so the Xu family has finally gotten what's coming to them?"

"Grand Secretary Xu served as Chief Grand Secretary under two reigns and was the man who brought down Yan Song—that his descendants should come to this is truly lamentable."

"Good riddance! These mongrel bastards should all be killed!"

Among the watching crowd, more than a few eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

Soon rotten eggs and spoiled vegetable leaves flew through the air, and the ground around several market stalls was licked clean as if by a cow's tongue.

The once-lofty Master Xu, hair disheveled, cangue and chains upon him, passed by in a prison cart, drenched in filth and slops, utterly wretched. The tenant farmers squeezed by the Xu family's great measures, the self-cultivators crushed by exorbitant levies, the common folk forced by Xu family litigators to sell their sons and daughters—standing at the roadside and witnessing the Xu family's ruin, the bitterness pent up in their hearts for decades finally found a small measure of release.

The procession escorting the Xu mansion stretched for two or three li. After the long column had passed, firecrackers crackled throughout Huating County, as lively as New Year's.

Yahei

Fenyuan

Pen