Chapter 168: Capital Security Grand Operation (Part One)

"Everyone, what do you think the Jinwu Guard is now? Or rather, what pursuits does it have?"

Fang Chongyong held a thin wooden stick and pointed at the two big characters written on the white‑painted board:

Make money!

The many officers and civil officials of the Jinwu Guard lowered their heads in silence, as if each were pondering something.

"What can this place offer you—face, glory, or power?

Or perhaps you can pinch your noses and brag before friends and family about how capable you are?"

Fang Chongyong unceremoniously lifted the Jinwu Guard's final veil of shame!

In fact they are nothing; once they go out, without Ji Ge's holy favor, they won't rise to fame, let alone bring glory to their ancestors!

Today's Jinwu Guard is merely a dump for the waste that official families discard—a lousy concentration camp!

The people here aren't even as good as the young Wuling riders galloping down Zhuque Street in Chang'an!

Those dandy scions at least know they're favored, with future feasts and bright prospects. The ones in the Jinwu Guard, however, were kicked here early by their families just to pad their resumes.

It's the official‑family version of "poor kids forced to grow up early."

These people know exactly what kind of life they'll face ahead—it's almost visible at a glance. In short, a continual decline, getting messier and messier.

"Alright, I think you all have understood.

Putting aside irrelevant talk, this general believes the pressing priority now is this."

Fang Chongyong tapped the two characters on the white board again with his stick, emphasizing: "Now, we need to make money—no, we should call it revenue generation."

"Let the brothers' wallets warm up. With bright copper coins and soft, delicate silk, the brothers' backs will grow sturdy.

After all, courtesy knows its place, right? Don't you agree?"

Fang Chongyong looked around and asked.

One after another, the Jinwu Guard officers present wore meaningfully cryptic smiles. Seeing the moment was ripe, Zhang Guangsheng, standing beside Fang Chongyong, clasped his hands in salute and asked, "So, General Fang, how shall we make money—oh, I mean generate revenue?"

Since they can no longer gain honor or hone skills within the Jinwu Guard, then… it's only natural for everyone to go all out to scoop up money and look after their own little families, right?

"First, I hereby announce something here."

Fang Chongyong straightened his posture, lifted his head, and said to the crowd:

"From now on, the Jinwu Guard street‑patrol personnel will be halved; the rest, who don't patrol, will shed their armor, don civilian clothes, and infiltrate the various lanes and markets of Chang'an for covert investigations.

Externally, they remain called the Jinwu Guard. Internally, however, they are divided into Duty Jinwu Guard and Covert Jinwu Guard.

Those on duty continue as before, just as now. The covert ones are responsible for making… revenue!

Got it?"

Hm?

Can we really play it like this?

Everyone was stunned, then after a moment's thought, they suddenly understood!

Impressive! Indeed impressive!

This Left Jinwu Guard lieutenant colonel truly is a marvel. Without years of grassroots immersion, he could never have conceived such a crooked scheme!

When the Jinwu Guard is on duty, they don't wear armor while covertly roaming; does that still make them members of the Jinwu Guard?

The answer: they not only are, but it's explicitly written into the regulations!

But why has everyone stopped doing it now?

Because doing so means the Jinwu Guard, who earnestly work at the grassroots, end up doing "foolish" tasks, effectively lowering their status to the petty clerks recruited in each lane—what needless suffering.

Do they really expect Jinwu Guard members to roam solving cases like detectives?

With a salary of eight hundred coins a month, they can't even save a sum in a year, have to beg their families for money, and dare not marry for fear they can't support a household.

Is it necessary to struggle to that extent?

Isn't the Jinwu Guard's sole pleasure, or source of confidence, simply wearing that bright, dazzling yet utterly non‑combat armor, marching proudly and ostentatiously through Chang'an's streets and alleys?

If the "uniform" can't be worn and they can't take extra money, the Jinwu Guard would have dwindled to a handful long ago!

"Wearing the Jinwu Guard's armor represents the court's face and must not reek of copper. Therefore, anyone patrolling in armor must never handle money; at that moment, no one may accept money."

Fang Chongyong said solemnly to the crowd.

"However, when you're not in armor but in civilian clothes, you become Chang'an's enforcers. As long as you obey the law yourself, nothing is prohibited.

From now on, the Left Jinwu Guard will alternate bright and covert shifts daily. The patrolling side patrols, the covert side investigates; they can support each other and serve as each other's front and back, uncovering matters hard to investigate in ordinary times.

Everyone, think: if you encounter a thief stealing, Jinwu Guard soldiers in such heavy armor couldn't possibly chase him. So you need this.

Fang Chongyong produced a ceramic whistle commonly used by the Hu people of Shazhou, waved it before everyone, and said, "From now on each Left Jinwu Guard member gets one; when trouble arises, blow the whistle, and nearby Jinwu Guard personnel must rush to assist!"

I see!

All the Jinwu Guard officers, seeing this, bowed in respect; the young General Fang indeed seemed remarkable.

"General, specifically, how do we make money?"

A fresh‑looking Jinwu Guard Sige asked.

"Hehe, gathering you today is to pool ideas, so we can draft a regulation,

how to make money, how much, how to operate without being held accountable by the central authority, how to avoid impeachment by the Censorate, and how to make the saint's face shine.

This general has a somewhat immature idea; consider it a pebble to spark jade—just sharing it with you first."

Fang Chongyong said with a smile.

Sensing the elegant intent like hearing a qin, the Jinwu Guard officers present clasped their hands in salute and said, "We will obey the general's command!"

"Alright, I will now tell you how to handle these matters."

Fang Chongyong laughed heartily, feeling extremely proud.

The Jinwu Guard is the court's elite troops, not some private army; therefore, does it need to train for Ji Ge a force that can fight bravely, fearlessly, a ten‑for‑one powerhouse?

Absolutely unnecessary!

Why should he? Fang Chongyong himself was nothing more than a common soldier who ate the army's grain! Clocking in for work every day, going home after work, nothing more.

When he was in Shazhou, Fang Chongyong pushed the logistics of the Doulu Army to the extreme, and often led troops on sorties to maintain the trade routes—he provided them with virtually whatever the Doulu Army needed.

Was doing all this for the sake of training the Great Tang's army, for devoting himself utterly to the Great Tang until death?

How could that be! Of course not!

The reason Fang Chongyong was so diligent in military affairs was simply because Tibet was close at hand; with the slightest lapse of attention, Shazhou would be trampled flat by the Tibetans!

He trained the army hard and secured the logistics hard simply because he was afraid of dying! Surrounded by powerful enemies on all sides, without a strong army at his side, Young Master Fang couldn't even sleep soundly at night.

And now, Fang Chongyong as General of the Left Jinwu Guard, still a "temp worker" whose term could almost certainly be determined to be only one month, was his task to help Brother Ji manage this bunch of trash in the Jinwu Guard who could neither fight nor handle affairs?

Of course not! At least, that was not the main purpose!

Fang Chongyong thought it through clearly: his task was simply to muddle through this one-month term, cause no trouble, not get crushed in the vicious struggle between the Left Chancellor and the Right Chancellor, and not get sabotaged by the Left Chancellor's faction!

Simple and clear!

The purpose determines the means. This squad with its rock-bottom morale, and the riddled, loophole-filled Jinwu Guard system, were in Fang Chongyong's eyes simply the best targets.

Easier to deal with than the Jingzhao Prefecture yamen!

Of course he had to save himself! If he didn't save himself, getting sabotaged by Zhang Shougui's people was only a matter of time.

And the first step of saving himself was to boost the squad's morale, so that everyone—when coming to work, hmm, when coming on duty—would be full of energy and hope.

Besides making money, what other method could rally the hearts of the Left Jinwu Guard in the fastest time?

There was none.

Of course, once the money was secured, half had to be given to Brother Ji—this was the prerequisite for the strategy's success.

Fang Chongyong's line of thinking was extremely simple, direct, and brutal, carrying the rough-and-tumble air of Hexi soldiers and the thick commercial atmosphere of Shazhou.

Hexi soldier = doing things lawlessly; Dunhuang merchant = anything not explicitly forbidden is fair game. The monster formed by combining these two, plus the brainstorming and broad knowledge from his previous life, was Young Master Fang's everyday approach to solving problems.

Like a thick, dark demonic wind, it began blowing from the Jinwu Guard yamen through every street and alley of Chang'an.

……

"Hahahahaha!"

Several richly dressed young men, laughing loudly, rode fine horses galloping down the main thoroughfare of Chang'an's Vermilion Bird Street, kicking up clouds of dust that made passersby cough and frown.

But they all felt anger yet dared not speak.

Those who could ride horses would never lack money; those who dared to gallop horses through the streets of Chang'an would never lack status. With both money and status, such people were best not provoked!

"Whee—!"

A sharp whistle sounded, and a squad of ten Jinwu Guard soldiers appeared before these men, lined up in a row, blocking their path.

"Bad luck!"

The one in the lead was none other than Wang Han, younger brother of Wang Hong. He had to rein in his mount, dismount, and negotiate with the Jinwu Guard soldiers before him.

To ride a horse on the streets of Chang'an, one had to hold official status.

In the eleventh year of the Zhenguan era (637), Emperor Taizong of Tang, Li Shimin, promulgated the "Tang Code: Statutes on Rites and Ceremonies," which included the provision: "On all roads, lanes, and streets, the lowly yield to the noble, the young yield to the old, the light yield to the heavy, the departing yield to the arriving." It later also made detailed provisions regarding what kind of officials could ride horses.

This was one of the privileges of the bureaucratic class. And the sons of eunuch families, even women, could also ride horses—it was just that this standard fell under "if no one reports it, no official investigates," a matter of turning a blind eye.

Because "some relative of my family" was far too broad a standard—did it mean within three generations, or within five degrees of mourning kinship?

Did household servants count, did distant relatives count, did cousins on the wife's side count? The laws of the Tang dynasty could not define things in such detail.

So it was certain that the powerful, noble, and bureaucratic could ride horses; whether the people in their households could ride horses was in fact a gray area. The authorities couldn't be bothered to manage such things, unless it was to deliberately target someone!

But even if one could ride a horse, one could not simply gallop or let the horse run free—that was the privilege of dispatch riders. Or it was permitted for "post horses" specifically delivering "live animals" to the imperial palace.

Riding a horse recklessly, if caught, would be heavily punished!

Otherwise, if everyone with a bit of status at home dared to gallop horses through the streets, then in the High Tang without detailed traffic regulations, Brother Ji would probably have already been in traffic accidents!

However, be that as it may, laws in the feudal era—those who understand, understand.

When someone enforced it, the law was the law. When no one enforced it, then it was nothing and meant nothing!

Young scions like Wang Han didn't take the nation's laws seriously at all; as long as the paddle hadn't struck their own backs, the law simply didn't exist.

But seeing the situation today, Wang Han felt a bit guilty too. The Jinwu Guard not enforcing the rules ordinarily didn't mean they couldn't enforce them. Since they'd come over to surround them, they obviously weren't just picking a fight for no reason.

"Gentlemen, take this for drinks."

Wang Han pulled out a gold bead and handed it to the leader, Zhang Guangsheng.

"You all saw that—he's bribing me.

Galloping a horse on the streets of Chang'an—fifty strokes of the bamboo! The bribery, take it back to the Jinwu Guard yamen and investigate slowly!

Seize him!

And seize those few together with him!"

The so-called fifty strokes of the bamboo meant that in the busy market district of Chang'an, the person would be tied up and struck fifty times with a bamboo board or rattan cane, on the back or the thighs and buttocks.

The clothes had to come off for the beating!

If the punishment were carried out here, then setting everything else aside, Wang Han and his companions would be stripped to the bare back and bare buttocks and suffer public humiliation on the spot—they wouldn't even dare attend noble banquets afterward.

Hearing Zhang Guangsheng say this, Wang Han breathed a sigh of relief. Going back to the yamen was fine—at least going back to the yamen meant there was still room for things to turn around.

"Good! Well done!"

A bystander by the street, not thinking the matter big enough, shouted approval at the Jinwu Guard soldiers.

In Zhang Guangsheng's mind, the scene of Fang Chongyong's address to the troops replayed.

A Jinwu Guard official had asked: "There are many powerful nobles in Chang'an. When they break the law on the streets, should we still investigate and prosecute? And can we also make money off them?"

Fang Chongyong immediately launched into a tirade:

"Do these powerful nobles give you money? They don't, do they?

Since they don't give, and they like to commit unlawful acts, then why can't you go take money from them?

Remember, Chang'an is the Sage's Chang'an, not the powerful nobles' Chang'an.

As the Sage's hound, being ruthless toward those powerful nobles is no problem. If anything happens, I'll take the fall—let them come make trouble with me.

In Chang'an, aside from the Sage, there is no one the Jinwu Guard cannot enforce the law against!"

Thinking of this, Zhang Guangsheng couldn't help but sneer coldly.

He hoped these young scions of the Five Mausoleums would all kick up a fuss—the bigger the better! That way, it would be hard for the Jinwu Guard not to make a name for itself.

Fang Chongyong just loved blowing things up as big as possible—even if the Censorate came to impeach him, all the better! That way he'd be absolutely safe!

Because half of these fines were "income generation" by the enforcement officers themselves, and the other half had to be sent to Brother Ji's inner treasury.

Let's see who'll cry themselves to death once things blow up big!

"Don't push your luck! Your daddy is going to ride through Chang'an today—what are you gonna do about it?"

Wang Han cursed at Zhang Guangsheng at the top of his lungs.

Unexpectedly, upon hearing these words, the Jinwu Guard soldiers enforcing the law nearby not only didn't get angry—their eyes lit up instead!

One soldier leaned close to Zhang Guangsheng's ear and asked in a low voice, "Sergeant Zhang, for resisting law enforcement and redeeming one's crime with money, what's the minimum amount again? I haven't read much, and last time it was explained I dozed off and didn't catch it."

"This number."

Zhang Guangsheng, without changing expression, extended his hand and made a "five" gesture.

"Five guan?"

"No, we'll pin the charge of plotting rebellion on him—fifty guan for one of his legs, five hundred guan for his life.

As long as he dares to run, then he's a scoundrel who was on his way to Mount Zhongnan to assassinate the Sage, and was caught by us fleeing to escape his crime."

Zhang Guangsheng chuckled wickedly.

Upon hearing this, that Jinwu Guard soldier was overjoyed and hurriedly whispered a few words to several colleagues. Their whole group stared at Wang Han with ill intent, even taking a deliberate step back to signal that if Wang Han wanted to run, he was free to do so.

"I... I'll go back to the yamen with you."

Wang Han vaguely caught the words "plotting rebellion," and was so frightened his whole body gave a jolt.

He and his elder brother Wang Hong were not good people to begin with, so naturally they would interpret others with the most malicious intentions. The moment he thought of those framing-and-fabrication routines, he immediately sensed that something was terribly wrong!

"Come back to the yamen with me. The horses are confiscated!"

As soon as the other party caved, the Jinwu Guard soldiers under Zhang Guangsheng's command instantly lost their spirit.

(End of this chapter)