Chapter 34: Thirty-Four (Kneeling to thank my brother

Thirty-Four (Kneeling to thank my brother “Chao Yun Heng Ai” for his two Silver Moe rewards!!!)

“What case? Naturally, a major imperial case.”

At his younger sister’s confusion, Ouyang Rong smiled lightly; at that moment, the carriage halted at the county magistrate’s gate, and a soldier pulled back the curtain for him.

“Thank you.”

Ouyang Rong stepped down from the carriage, Xie Lingjiang followed, yet her delicate brows tightened further:

“An imperial case? Does Longcheng County have one?”

“Who said it must happen in Longcheng?”

“If it didn’t happen in Longcheng, why send troops here to investigate?”

“Sometimes a murder occurs outside the county—yet proves more useful than one inside.”

Ouyang Rong squinted at the Longcheng County Office, now surrounded by three hundred elite soldiers; the eastern warehouse storing household registers and tax records had surely been sealed by Commandant Qin.

The Zhou Dynasty’s military conscription system was the Fubing system; its basic unit was the Zhechong Fu, with over seven hundred scattered across the empire’s ten circuits, arranged in a “central control over periphery” and “heavy inside, light outside” pattern.

The Guannei Circuit, containing Luoyang and Chang’an, held nearly half of all Zhechong Fu; the rest were mostly stationed along the frontiers or in key strategic towns, while southern circuits had far fewer—Jiangnan Circuit, despite its wealth, had only six.

Jiangzhou, known in Qin as Jiujiang and in Han as Xunyang—yes, the very “Xunyang Riverbank, night sending off a guest”—sat at the confluence of three rivers and a hub of seven provinces, its waterways thriving, and thus housed a Zhechong Fu to control this vital node.

Yet normally, even the Jiangzhou Inspector could not mobilize the Jiangzhou Zhechong Fu’s troops.

This was precisely what Xie Lingjiang now wondered; as she walked into the county office with Ouyang Rong, she mused:

“An imperial case outside the county… Brother, are you referring to the massive embezzlement case at the Jiangzhou Jimin Granary?”

“Sharp as ever, little sister,” Ouyang Rong replied casually.

“But how did it lead here? Is someone in this county involved?”

“I don’t know if anyone in Longcheng participated in the rice embezzlement—but I know that when investigating, you check everywhere, and the case will reveal itself. Even if what you uncover isn’t the rice case, treating it as one won’t hurt.”

The young county magistrate smiled; as they neared the eastern warehouse, he turned and finally revealed the truth:

“I wrote a letter to Inspector Shen, stationed in Xunyang, reporting that Longcheng sits at the entrance of Yunmeng Marsh and the Yangtze River; every vessel entering or leaving Jiangzhou must pass through Longcheng. The rice stolen from the Jimin Granary likely passed secretly through Penglang Ferry—and may even have been transshipped here.”

Xie Lingjiang understood. “So that’s it. Inspector Shen Xisheng was sent by the Empress Dowager to oversee relief and investigate—does he truly have authority to mobilize troops? That’s why he sent three hundred iron cavalry to assist you?”

Ouyang Rong nodded slightly, then shook his head:

“If that were all, Inspector Shen could’ve just sent someone to investigate on his behalf. The fact he placed three hundred elite cavalry entirely under my command… is mainly because… we know each other.”

“After my mother’s death, I returned to the Divine Capital, intending to join the Censorate as Inspector Shen’s subordinate—but before I assumed office, I dared to submit a bold memorial… and on that day in the imperial hall, Inspector Shen himself spoke up for me. Compared to other superiors in the Censorate and the Imperial Secretariat, he was remarkably fair.”

“That alone reveals his character. In my letter, I revealed nothing hidden—I simply outlined Longcheng’s relief situation. I believe Inspector Shen understood.”

Ouyang Rong sighed: “Yet he immediately dispatched three hundred elite cavalry. When Wu Liu reported it, I was genuinely surprised.”

Xie Lingjiang’s eyes sparkled as she looked at him: “It’s because your reputation for integrity is known throughout the land. Inspector Shen has witnessed your actions firsthand—he naturally trusts you. This is fate: every sip and bite, predetermined.”

Ouyang Rong lowered his gaze, brushed his sleeves, and walked toward the heavily guarded eastern warehouse: “I accept your good words, little sister.”

The eastern warehouse held Longcheng County’s household registers, able-bodied male rosters, and tax records for market and foreign trade—once a neglected corner of the county office, staffed by clerks relegated to the cold benches, left to gather dust.

Yet now, the eastern warehouse had become the most heavily guarded building in the entire county—and the burning focus of local gentry and powerful clans.

Commandant Qin Heng and County Constable Yan Liulang waited before the warehouse; as Ouyang Rong and Xie Lingjiang arrived, they bowed and reported.

Ouyang Rong said, “You’ve worked hard.”

At that moment, County Deputy Dao arrived in a panic, flanked by a crowd of clerks.

His beard was nearly pulled out. “Magistrate, Magistrate, what’s going on? Why bring soldiers here? What’s this?”

Ouyang Rong nodded: “We’re doing an audit.”

“What? An audit? Why now?”

“Does Deputy Dao think this situation is still ‘fine’?”

“What do you mean, Magistrate?”

“Outside the city, people starve. Inside, along Butterfly Creek, the gentry are richer than the county office itself. Does Deputy Dao call that ‘fine’?”

“But… they’ve accumulated wealth over generations. What can you do? Can you just rob them?”

Ouyang Rong shook his head: “Rob them? I won’t.”

Deputy Dao exhaled—then froze at the next sentence.

Ouyang Rong nodded: “But if it’s not theirs, after the audit, I reclaim it. Isn’t that fair?”

He extended a long, pale hand from his sleeve, smiling with white teeth:

“Generations of ancestors? I don’t have time for that. I’ll just audit the past five years—nothing excessive. They’ve been rich for so long; their hands should be clean by now, right?”

“W-what if they’re not?”

“If they’re not clean, I’ll help them clean them.”

“...”

Deputy Dao stammered, glanced around, then sighed helplessly: “If it’s an audit, why expel the warehouse clerks? They know these accounts best.”

“I don’t need your people. I have my own. The clerks who’ve assisted me in the relief camps on the city outskirts—they’ve done well. Let them handle the accounting.”

Ouyang Rong turned and gave a few precise instructions; Yan Liulang left to fetch them, and soon returned with the group of clerks Ouyang Rong recognized.

Once all were assembled, Ouyang Rong calmly addressed the soldiers at the warehouse entrance: “Open the gates.”

Then he pointed at the slowly opening doors:

“Let’s see if this place, like the Jimin Granary, is full of rats.”

“The Liu family’s accounts come first. What a fine ‘Liu’ character—born of water, thriving when water overflows!”

The young magistrate stood tall on the top step, then turned to face the crowd below, speaking clearly:

“Don’t say I, an official, oppress the people. Today, we audit openly, follow proper procedure. I said I came to Longcheng for one thing only. Now, every entry will be brought out for everyone to see—let me learn too: how does the Liu family grow richer every year despite floods?”

…

————

(PS: Woke up on New Year’s Eve and saw—wait, “Gentleman” and “Sword Maiden” are on the site’s broadcast? Am I still dreaming?

Looked again—holy shit, it’s real!

Confirmed: “Chao Yun Heng Ai,” this brother, is a life-and-death friend!

Sword Maiden: one Silver Moe.

Gentleman: another Silver Moe.

Too intense—filled it all at once.

The battered author finally tasted a hint of “life as a wish-fulfillment story” QAQ

Thank you, Brother “Chao Yun Heng Ai”—turned out he’s an old reader from Sword Maiden. I’m tearing up!

What moved me more than money was the sense of being acknowledged, the happiness of being seen.

If you tell family or friends someone likes your book, they half-doubt it, think you’re just self-deluding.

But if you tell them a reader gave you two Silver Moes—unseen, unknown—and explain what Silver Moes are worth, they instantly understand: your writing isn’t worthless trash, not some idle waste of time locked in a room.

We don’t need others’ approval—but we crave it so desperately.

Thank you, Brother “Chao Yun Heng Ai”—you gave me a crown I can forever hold high when facing relatives who don’t understand my writing.

And thank you to every reader who spent time on “Gentleman” and “Sword Maiden”—your subscription fees are nothing compared to the time you gave.

To think that readers like Brother “Chao Yun Heng Ai” spent precious time and energy reading my shallow stories… this is the greatest honor a writer can know.)