Chapter 797: Flaying and Straw Stuffing

On the Central Square of Tongwan City, the four straw figures hanging from the Flagpole swayed in the spring breeze as they completed a three‑day procession, and were finally nailed to the stone pillar at the square's entrance.

The air‑dry human skin glowed a dark brown in the sunlight that churned the stomach, its hollow eye sockets gaped toward the passing pedestrians, silently conveying the simplest truth.

Chen Yan's blade truly does fall.

In the Shufang of Zongguan Fu, the wick of the copper oil lamp on the Zitanmu Chang'an was trimmed perfectly by red leaves; the flame quietly licked upward, bathing the room in soft yet bright light.

Chen Yan changed into a clean, dark‑colored everyday robe, leaned against the back of the Grand Preceptor's Chair, and tapped his fingers rhythmically on the armrest.

The footsteps outside the door were extremely light, bearing Zhang Wenqian's characteristic steady cadence.

Hongye opened the door.

Zhang Wenqian crossed the threshold, performed a clasp‑fist salute, then stood at the spot opposite Chen Yan, hands folded in front, waiting for Chen Yan to speak first.

Chen Yan did not keep him waiting long.

"Sit."

Zhang Wenqian sat as instructed, his back straight, the front of his official robe creasing into fine lines from prolonged sitting.

Chen Yan's fingertip gave the armrest one final tap, the sound even.

"You saw everything that happened in the square,"

Zhang Wenqian nodded.

"Shuyi saw it."

Chen Yan leaned against the chair back, his gaze passing over the neatly stacked bamboo slips on the desk, settling on Zhang Wenqian's face.

"Tell me your thoughts,"

Zhang Wenqian was silent for two breaths, then spoke at a pace half a step slower than usual.

"The Pillar of the State used the Flaying and Straw Stuffing extreme punishment to intimidate the officialdom; the methods were harsh, but the effect was immediate."

His finger pressed lightly on his knee.

"Shuyi has received seventeen greeting letters from the chief officials of various counties in these three days; normally three a month would be considered many."

Chen Yan's mouth twitched, not quite a smile.

"Afraid,"

Zhang Wenqian did not deny it.

"Afraid, but still afraid; some matters cannot be suppressed by fear alone."

He retrieved a roll of Bamboo Silk Scroll from his sleeve, spread it with both hands, and placed it on the desk before Chen Yan.

"Shuyi drafted a assessment law overnight; please, Pillar of the State, review it."

Chen Yan reached out, pulled the scroll to his eyes, and read it line by line.

Zhang Wenqian's handwriting was extremely neat; each assessment criterion was listed clearly, covering everything from tax collection to public security, from water‑works repair to the efficiency of handling civil disputes, encompassing all aspects of grassroots officials' daily duties.

The assessment cycle was set for once each quarter, with inspection envoys directly under Zongguan Fu descending to each county for spot checks; evaluations were divided into upper, middle, and lower tiers, and those rated lower for two consecutive quarters…

Dismissal.

Chen Yan finished reading the scroll from start to finish, his finger lingering on the last line for three breaths.

Then he slapped the scroll onto the desk.

"Insufficient,"

A pulse flickered at Zhang Wenqian's brow.

"Pillar of the State, what do you find improper?"

Chen Yan drew a wolf‑hair brush from the brush holder, dipped its tip into the already ground cinnabar ink pool at the desk corner, the red ink forming a bead‑like dot on the tip.

He spread the scroll again, placed the brush tip above the First Path, and wrote four characters in cinnabar.

Increase agricultural and sericulture output.

"For this item, you wrote tax collection rate; I'll amend it for you,"

The brush tip whisked across the scroll, the cinnabar marks resembling tiny knife cuts.

"Do not look at how much tax was collected; look at how much the yield per mu in his jurisdiction has risen compared to last year, and how much grain the storehouses hold compared to the previous quarter."

Zhang Wenqian's brows furrowed briefly, then relaxed.

"The Pillar of the State means shifting focus from officials' pockets to the fields."

Chen Yan did not wait for his words; the brush tip had already moved to the Second Path.

"Public security rate: you set the standard at no more than five criminal cases per month as acceptable; I find that figure too lenient,"

He crossed out the original number and wrote the new standard beside it.

"Three cases; exceeding three drops one tier directly."

Zhang Wenqian's lips moved as if to speak, but seeing Chen Yan's unhesitant, fierce stroke, he closed his mouth again.

Chen Yan's brush tip continued onward, pausing when it reached the Third Path.

He lifted his head, looking at Zhang Wenqian.

"The populace's reputation: your clause only mentions investigation by inspection envoys; that's too slow and too easy for locals to manipulate."

He set the brush down and tapped the desk lightly twice with his finger.

"I will place something at the main entrance of every county office,"

Zhang Wenqian's body leaned forward a half‑inch.

"What thing?"

Chen Yan wrote five characters in the blank space of the scroll.

Anonymous Secret Letter Box.

"Made of iron sheet, it has only a drop slot and no retrieval slot; the key is kept by a Hidden Agent of the Mingjing Office, and the box is opened once every seven days. Reports placed inside are sent directly to Zongguan Fu without any intermediate steps."

Zhang Wenqian inhaled, then exhaled slowly.

"This move by the pillar of the state is to plant a pair of eyes beside every official."

Chen Yan dipped the tip of his brush in the cinnabar ink pool again and continued writing.

"The last clause, the punishment you wrote is dismissal; this Duke finds it too light."

He placed the final line of large cinnabar characters at the end of the Bamboo Silk Scroll, each stroke carrying a force that made the back of the neck turn cold.

Those who rank at the bottom for three consecutive months will have their households confiscated and be sent to a labor camp.

Zhang Wenqian stared at that line for five breaths, then silently took the Bamboo Silk Scroll back into his hands.

"Shuyi understands; this is not an assessment, it is a knife."

Chen Yan set down the brush, washed the cinnabar on his finger in the copper basin on the desk, and the clear water instantly turned a pale red.

"A knife is what makes people remember pain."

Zhang Wenqian rolled up the Bamboo Silk Scroll, stood, and clasped his fists in salute.

"Shuyi will tonight transcribe the revised New Law into an official document and send it to each county first thing tomorrow morning."

He stopped a step as he reached the doorway, then turned back to look at Chen Yan.

"Pillar of the state, some people will push back."

Chen Yan leaned against the chair back, his eyes stirring a chilling light under the lamp's glow.

"This Duke is waiting for them to push back."

Three days later, the New Law was issued in the name of Zongguan Fu and placed on the desks of every county office under Xiazhou's jurisdiction.

That night, in the residence of County Magistrate Liu Jin of Yongfeng, east of Tongwan City, fifteen oil lamps lit the main hall brightly.

Fifteen grassroots officials from various counties sat in the hall, some flushed, some grinding their teeth, some fidgeting and rubbing their palms.

Liu Jin sat at the head seat and slammed the copy of the New Law onto the table.

"Look, everyone look, is this something a person does!"

His voice wavered with anger, his round face flushed bright red.

"Anonymous Secret Letter Box, three consecutive months at the bottom leads to household confiscation and exile; Chen Yan wants to use us as Herd of Cattle and Horse until death!"

A county officer sitting to his left craned his neck and added.

"Not only Herd of Cattle and Horse; if they do a bad job they get at most a whip, but he would just slaughter them outright."

Liu Jin exhaled a coarse breath from his nostrils and slapped the table twice with his palm.

"Everyone, we have been operating in Xiazhou for how many years, generations of foundations—can we let an outsider kid finish us off in one go?"

An older county assistant hunches his neck, his voice pressed low.

"County Magistrate Liu, Zhou Xingsi's skin is still hanging in the square; causing trouble now is courting death, isn't it."

Liu Jin let out a cold laugh.

"He could kill one Zhou Xingsi, could kill two; can he kill fifteen? Can he kill all the officials of Xiazhou?"

He scanned the seated crowd and lowered his voice.

"Law does not hold the masses accountable—have you heard that saying?"

He picked up a brush from the table and wrote several lines on a blank Bamboo Silk Scroll.

"Tomorrow morning, the fifteen of us will jointly submit a petition claiming illness, and all governmental affairs will be halted."

He tossed the brush onto the table, his mouth curling into a vicious grin.

"Spring plowing is the most critical time; with the affairs of fifteen counties halted simultaneously, I'll see how Chen Yan meets his end."

A few officials who were still hesitating exchanged glances, clenched their jaws, and one after another pressed their fingerprints onto the Bamboo Silk Scroll.

The next morning, the fifteen sick petitions were simultaneously delivered to the desk of Zongguan Fu.

Chen Yan sat in the Shufang, laid the fifteen Bamboo Silk Scrolls out side by side like a spread of cards on the Zitanmu Chang'an, his finger tracing each signature in order.

Hongye stood at the doorway, his gaze falling on Chen Yan's nape, where a blue vein pulsed at an extremely slow rhythm.

Chen Yan's finger paused on the signature of the last Bamboo Silk Scroll, the pad of his finger rubbing back and forth over the two characters "Liu Jin" twice.

He lifted his head, the corner of his mouth lifting half a notch.

"Gao Jiong."

Gao Jiong stepped out from the shadow beyond the door, planting a single knee on the ground.

"Shuyi is here."

Chen Yan stacked the fifteen Bamboo Silk Scrolls together, lifted them, gave them two shakes, and casually tossed them into the wastepaper bin at his feet.

"Go to the storeroom and fetch fifteen fine black lacquer coffins."

Gao Jiong's mouth twitched.

"Call for two more Physicians."

Chen Yan leaned into the chair back, tapping his finger on the armrest.

"One by one claim illness; this Duke will see who is truly sick and who is merely playing dead."