Chapter 221: Everything Is for the Holy One

In the large courtyard of Dividing Water Station, a crowd had formed a big circle; the curious watched the excitement, while the sensible watched for the nuances.

"Station Master, I'm here on business; I haven't delayed your reception of visiting officials, have I?"

Fang Chongyong smiled as he looked at the station master of Dividing Water Station and asked, pointing to He Changqi in the crowd and then to Guan Chongsi opposite him.

"Heh, Inspector Fang, you're too polite. Such a splendid scene, I'll be able to brag about it to my descendants later!"

This Station Master Liu laughed heartily, as if he had known Fang Chongyong for years. In fact, however, this was their first meeting in life, and possibly their last.

Early this morning, Fang Chongyong sought out Station Master Liu at the station, this plump middle-aged man before him. He then told him that today the Yinqiang Xiaojie Army would select its core members at Dividing Water Station.

Although Station Master Liu didn't know what the "Yinqiang Xiaojie" was, the inspector's badge and the commissioner's official proclamation could not be faked.

This burly young man before him is a close attendant of the Son of Heaven, of great background, and must not be slighted.

As for using the station courtyard as a venue, could that be considered a problem?

Station Master Liu agreed without hesitation, saying that Fang Chongyong and his entourage could do whatever they liked.

This is the convenience brought by power!

Fang Chongyong couldn't help but sigh inwardly, yet on the surface he put on a stern, businesslike official's face.

"The rules are simple: whoever falls loses."

Fang Chongyong shouted at the two in the circle, and no sooner had his words fallen than He Changqi, utterly disregarding martial decorum, charged forward, his big fist lunging straight at Guan Chongsi's face.

In a brawl, victory and defeat are all that matter; there's no point in pulling punches or worrying about sneak attacks.

The winner is the boss; the loser must stand ready to take a beating—there's no such thing as "winning without martial virtue"!

"Good timing!"

Guan Chongsi laughed loudly, saying He Changqi's lack of martial virtue was just to his liking—this way he could vent his spite on him.

This trip to Chang'an has been nothing but utter humiliation.

Since Fang Chongyong said beforehand, this match will be solely about victory or defeat, life or death, with no talk of holding back.

He slightly tilted his head, barely dodging He Changqi's punch, then unexpectedly grabbed half of his arm and lunged forward!

A burst of brute force came straight at him, like an ox cart driven by a barbarian.

Although He Changqi was as strong as a barbarian ox, he dared not meet the move head‑on, retreating two or three steps while deflecting and striking, barely managing to take the impact.

Guan Chongsi then threw a rapid series of four or five punches, all of which He Changqi blocked with his arms; the two passed each other, having already exchanged several moves, with Guan Chongsi even gaining a slight edge.

"This is going to beat someone to death."

Pei Xiu, standing beside Fang Chongyong, muttered to herself, "Although He Changqi and Guan Chongsi are fighting unarmed, they pull no punches—it's blow for blow, flesh to flesh, striking to kill."

Pei Xiu dared not imagine what would happen if she found herself in such a situation; most likely she would meet a miserable end.

The use of swordsmanship comes with many limitations—for example, the sword might break, it may be ineffective against long weapons, and a slow‑reacting swordsman is easily closed in and killed.

Recalling He Changqi's sneak attack just now, Pei Xiu asked herself, "If I faced a similar situation, I might not even get a chance to draw my sword."

"Border garrison ruffians, a slight delay in reaction means death. Often life and death are decided in an instant."

"You are a flower in a greenhouse, they are wildflowers by the roadside; their resistance to cold and wind is vastly inferior."

Fang Chongyong commented from the side.

Before the Tang dynasty, a "greenhouse" referred to a bathroom for bathing in northern winters.

Pei Xiu found it baffling, thinking she was once again "ignorant and uninformed," and could only chuckle nervously: "Comparing He Changqi, such a sturdy fellow, to a roadside wildflower—Inspector Fang, that's quite an odd analogy."

As she spoke, the onlookers began to cheer loudly. Although He Changqi and Guan Chongsi were trading blow for blow, even with Guan Chongsi's mouth split and bleeding, neither had been knocked down.

He Changqi lunged forward, grabbing Guan Chongsi's shoulders with both hands, about to throw him over his shoulder and slam him to the ground.

In the flash of an instant, Guan Chongsi swept his foot onto He Changqi's shin, flung his upper body, and pushed with both hands along the direction of He Changqi's leaning frame; He Changqi's bulky body had a high center of gravity, and in the midst of a life‑or‑death struggle, he never expected Guan Chongsi to pull such a crooked move.

Although He Changqi tried to recover, he still fell to the ground. He reflexively rolled a few times on the ground, and when he got up his whole body was coated in yellow dust, looking rather embarrassed.

Guan Chongsi thought beating He Changqi to death with bare hands would indeed be difficult, and he might even be counter‑killed.

But this is a match—whoever hits the ground first loses. According to the pre‑set rules, this round goes to He Changqi's loss!

"Enough! The outcome is decided!"

Fang Chongyong raised his hand and shouted.

He Changqi approached, embarrassed, and clasped his hands in a salute to Fang Chongyong.

Guan Chongsi also stepped forward, clasped his hands to Fang Chongyong, and said, "I, your subordinate, have won without martial virtue; General He, I yield to you."

"Heh, winning is winning—there's no such thing as 'winning without martial virtue'."

"When we later clash with the Tubo people, do you think they'll show us courtesy?"

Fang Chongyong waved his hand, saying indifferently.

"All right, all right, disperse! The spectacle is over!"

Station Master Liu shouted at the onlookers, dispersing the gawkers, then brought Fang Chongyong and his group into the station's dining hall, to a private room reserved for VIPs, and ordered a fine meal to be served.

"Inspector Fang, I don't know how to solve the Peaceful People Army's supply problem."

After the dishes were served, Guan Chongsi asked without changing expression.

"Now you are no longer a member of the Peaceful People Army; you are a core member of the Holy One's personal guard, the Yinqiang Xiaojie."

"I will write a special letter to Military Commissioner Geshu Han to inform him."

Fang Chongyong said calmly.

"What about the Peaceful People Army's provisions..." Guan Chongsi asked, somewhat unwilling.

In fact, nowadays there is no notion of subordinates belonging to a commander as 'little brothers' in the manner of mid‑late Tang warlords.

Any general can be freely reassigned; if you say they belong to someone, they are actually the imperial court's personnel, not exclusively anyone's.

So even if Guan Chongsi is Geshu Han's confidant, as long as he gets permission from Jige, Fang Chongyong can easily poach him.

Geshu Han had no reason to object, and neither did Guan Chongsi.

Conversely, although Zhang Guangsheng is Fang Chongyong's confidant, promoted by him personally, Fang Chongyong cannot interfere with the imperial court's appointment and transfer of Zhang Guangsheng.

Guan Chongsi, upon learning he had been transferred to the Forbidden Army and become a member of the "Silver Lance Filial and Valiant", still kept in mind the court's arrears of pay to the Pacified People's Army; not to say, this is a decent person.

"Just go with so-and-so to take up your post in Long Right; no need to think too much. Settling the Pacified People's Army's pay won't be troublesome either."

Fang Chongyong casually waved his hand and said.

A set of winter clothing roughly needs ten bolts of silk, to be issued as semi-finished goods.

The Pacified People's Army has ten thousand troops; one year's winter clothing requires one hundred thousand bolts of silk, two years two hundred thousand bolts.

This amount of money, saying it's a lot isn't really a lot, but saying it's little is truly not little either.

Guan Chongsi was very curious; what method does Fang Chongyong have to make the Ministry of Revenue obediently cough up the money?

Seeing Fang Chongyong assured yet unwilling to speak, Guan Chongsi thought for a moment and swallowed the words he had been holding back.