Chapter 805: Ti Cavalry Breaks the Gate, Captures the Three Rats; Ironclad Evidence Crumbles the Thieves' Resolve

The day after the Xiazhou Lüshu was issued in the name of the Zongguan Fu, the effect was like pouring a ladle of cold water into a pot of boiling oil.

Zila—, the bubbling ceased.

The news of the collective punishment spread to the counties faster than Chen Yan had expected, because the newly promoted low‑born officials, upon receiving the Lüshu that night, immediately summoned the village heads and clan leaders of each village and, through the night, read the Lüshu's articles word for word.

The clause offering rewards for reports acted like a lit fuse, detonating the first bomb in the early hours of the third day.

On Chu Ci's desk in Qinggui County, seventeen anonymous tip letters were piled.

The newly appointed magistrate of Yongchang County received twenty‑three.

Ningyuan Xian had at least nine.

The contents of the tip letters were highly consistent, all pointing to the same incident.

White Feather Letter.

Chu Ci sorted the seventeen tip letters by their source villages, spread them on the desk for comparison, then rose from the chair and strode to the Stable in the county office's rear courtyard.

Chen Wu was leading a Zaojia Horse already saddled, waiting there.

"Sir, the list and routes have been organized, and the Hidden Agent of the Mingjing Department has also sent back the latest surveillance records."

Chu Ci swung onto the horse, took the Hidden Agent's record document from Chen Wu's hand, and skimmed it with two quick glances.

"Chen Wantong of Chenjia Fang left his home once late last night, went to the grinding mill at the east side of the town, stayed in the mill for half an hour, and when he emerged his lap was bulging. The Hidden Agent followed him to his back door and saw him hand a package to a stranger in black."

Chu Ci folded the document and slipped it back into his pocket.

"Which direction did that man in black go?"

Chen Wu's voice lowered.

"Southward, toward Yongchang County."

Chu Ci's mouth twitched.

"They're still linking up."

He tightened the horse's girth, and the Zaojia Horse kicked up its hooves and galloped away.

In the Shufang of the Zongguan Fu of Tongwan City, Gao Jiong spread the document that compiled all the surveillance records of the Hidden Agents from the three counties before Chen Yan.

"Report to the Pillar of State, the Three Rats panicked on the day the Lüshu was issued; Chen Wantong sent a messenger to Yongchang County through the night; Ma Delu burned two whole boxes of documents and ledgers at home; Zhou Mao Cai of Zhou's Medicine Shop is even more interesting."

Gao Jiong's mouth twitched.

"He shut the shop's door, packed three bundles of delicate goods, planned to flee the city through Ningyuan Xian's south gate, but our Hidden Agent stopped him at the city gate."

Chen Yan's finger traced slowly over the document.

"He was stopped."

Gao Jiong nodded.

"The Hidden Agent disguised himself as a guard at the city gate, used the curfew as an excuse to persuade him to turn back; Zhou Mao Cai is now cowering in the backyard of his medicine shop, all doors and windows locked, like a mouse that has darted into a hole."

Chen Yan folded the document and tapped the desk with his finger.

"The Hidden Agent of the Mingjing Department has been tailing them for several days."

Gao Jiong's answer was crisp.

"Since the first day the Lüshu was issued, he has been watching them nonstop; every rendezvous, every message delivery, every route taken, all have been recorded."

Chen Yan leaned back into the chair, crossing his fingers to support his chin.

"Enough."

He released his fingers, drew three blank arrest warrants from the desk, and dipped his brush in cinnabar ink.

"Chen Wantong, Ma Delu, Zhou Mao Cai, issue the three warrants together."

The brush tip flew across the silk, leaving three identical lines of cinnabar marks on the White Silk.

The Mingjing Department will immediately apprehend them, confiscate their property, and interrogate them on the spot.

The bottom of each of the three warrants bore the same dark‑red Great Seal of the Governor of Xiazhou.

Gao Jiong took the warrants with both hands and punched his Chest Armor.

"Shuyi, I'm heading there right now."

As he turned and walked to the doorway, Chen Yan's voice followed from behind.

"Gao Jiong."

Gao Jiong's steps halted on the threshold.

"I want Zhou Mao Cai alive; what's in his mouth is worth far more than his life."

Gao Jiong's mouth formed a chilling grin.

"Shuyi, understood."

The gate of Chenjia Fang was smashed open that evening.

Eighty Ti Cavalry of the Mingjing Department, under Gao Jiong's personal command, executed a two‑pronged encirclement of Chen Wantong's five‑mu estate; a single strike of iron against wood ripped the Zhuqi Daimen, adorned with red couplets, off its frame.

At that moment, Chen Wantong was seated on the Grand Preceptor's Chair in the main hall, sipping tea, with a table before him still steaming with wine and dishes; opposite him sat his three sons and two stewards.

When he heard the gate being forced open, the blue‑and‑white porcelain tea cup in his hand remained steady at his lips, and not a drop of tea spilled.

He set the cup on the table, rose slowly, and his aged yet clear eyes gazed toward the main hall's doorway.

Gao Jiong stepped over the threshold, and the armor plates glinted with a cold metallic sheen in the light.

"Chen Wantong."

Chen Wantong's mouth wore an exceedingly appropriate smile, the kind that only someone who has navigated the official and commercial arenas for decades can display—airtight.

"Grand Historian Gao Changshi, your illustrious presence graces my humble abode; I am at a loss as to the purpose of your visit."

Gao Jiong gave no pleasantries, waved his hand, and two embroidered‑clad envoys behind him pushed a handcart inside.

The handcart was carrying nothing else.

It was the White Feather Letter.

Hundreds of white paper sheets folded into triangles, each sealed with the distinctive white Jima, were neatly stacked in the cart's bed, like a heap of paper money awaiting burial.

Chen Wantong's smile froze for half a breath the moment he saw those White Feather Letters, then resumed, though its curve narrowed by two points.

"Gao Changshi, what is this? This old man cannot understand it."

Gao Jiong walked to the handcart, casually picked up a White Feather Letter, and smelled it at the tip of his nose.

"Chen Laoyezi, this paper is the base made from the rice paste ground at your family's mill, and this Jima was taken from the reed‑flower chickens in your backyard. Your kitchen maid complained to the neighbor Aunt Wang yesterday that a large handful of Jima was missing; have you found it?"

Chen Wantong's smile finally could not be held.

The corner of his mouth twitched, and a fleeting flash of panic crossed his aged yet clear eyes, but his decades‑long cultivated composure forced it back.

"Gao Changshi, you're joking. This old man's mill only grinds flour, it does not make paper."

Gao Jiong tossed the White Feather Letter onto the table, took a stack of Hidden Agent surveillance records from his coat, and spread them one by one on the wine‑and‑dish table, pushing the plates and bowls to the edge.

"Chen Wantong, on the third day of the twelfth lunar month, you met a rogue named Zhao Heizi in the firewood shed behind the mill, gave him three guàn of money and two hundred White Feather Letters, and sent him to distribute them overnight to seven villages in South Township."

A record was laid out.

"On the fifth day of the twelfth lunar month, you met the second steward of Ma Delu from Yongchang County in the pavilion of your own tea garden; he delivered a crate of copper ingots cast by Qi State, which you received and hid beneath the third‑layer partition of the desiccated well in your backyard."

Another record was laid out.

"On the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, you sent your eldest son to Zhou Ji's pharmacy in Ningyuan Xian to obtain a Mifeng; the Mifeng used the standard encrypted code of the Qi State Shadow Department."

When the third record was laid out, Chen Wantong's face no longer held any smile.

A fine layer of cold sweat seeped from his temples, his lips moved twice, and the smooth, seasoned composure in his voice finally showed its first crack.

"Gao Changshi, these items cannot serve as courtroom evidence; there is no witness or material proof…"

Gao Jiong bent down, his face coming within a foot of Chen Wantong's.

"Are you sure you want to discuss witness and material evidence with me?"

He straightened his back and lifted his chin toward the embroidered‑clad emissary behind him.

"Go to the backyard, the desiccated well, third‑layer partition."

The two emissaries turned and left the main hall.

At that moment Chen Wantong's complexion changed completely, turning into a gray‑white that had lost all color from the inside out.

His mouth opened twice, and the sound that forced its way from his throat was already distorted.

"Gao Changshi, could you… could you let this old man speak face‑to‑face with the Imperial Counselor…"

Gao Jiong turned his back, looking down from his height at the old fox who had been a great benefactor in Qinggui County for thirty years.

"The Imperial Counselor is occupied with countless state affairs and has no time to listen to your nonsense."

He extended his right hand, hooking his index finger downward.

"Bound."

At the same moment, Majia Wan in Yongchang County and Zhou Ji's pharmacy in Ningyuan Xian.

Three search warrants, three routes of Ti Cavalry, and three Zhuqi Daimen were smashed open within the same hour.

Ma Delu looked even more embarrassed than Chen Wantong.

One third of the unfinished document fragments in his backyard were painstakingly rescued from the ashes by the embroidered emissary, and two of those concerned the Qi State Shadow Department's quarterly disbursement list; the Huqi Fengyin on them matched exactly the hidden marks on the letters previously seized from Zhou Xingsi's house.

Zhou Mao Cai was the worst off.

When he was dragged out of the locked Secret Chamber behind the pharmacy, he was wearing only a single under‑garment and still clutched a razor used for shaving.

When Gao Jiong's men rushed in, he was brandishing that razor toward his own throat, his hand shaking like a winnowing sieve; the blade drew a shallow cut on his neck, and a bead of blood ran down his collarbone into his collar.

The embroidered emissary snapped the razor away, and both of his arms were simultaneously twisted behind his back.

Zhou Mao Cai knelt on the broken porcelain shards in the pharmacy's backyard, his knees pierced with several blood‑filled holes, and his wailing was uglier than the sound of a pig being slaughtered.

Gao Jiong stood before him, his finger pinching a Mifeng retrieved from the inner layer of his pillow, slowly unfolding it under the moonlight.

"Zhou Mao Cai, a native of Yecheng East District, originally named Zhao Shuzhi, is a junior liaison officer of the Qi State Shadow Department's Jingnan Guard."

Zhou Mao Cai's wailing sounded as if someone had clamped his throat, stuck in his throat.

Gao Jiong crouched down and held the Mifeng up to his face.

"You have been lurking in Xiazhou for three years and four months, handling Qi State Shadow Department disbursements totaling twelve thousand taels of silver, and have cultivated seven local powerful figures as informants."

His voice sounded like a cold wind drifting out of a Cellar.

"The Imperial Counselor said that what's in your mouth is worth more than your life, so you don't have to die yet."

He stood up and slipped the Mifeng back into his coat.

"But whether you die or not depends on how wide you open your mouth."

Zhou Mao Cai's teeth clashed inside his mouth, his whole body collapsed on the broken shards, like a snake whose spine had been stepped on and broken.

"I'll say anything, I beg you, don't kill me, please don't kill me…"

Gao Jiong turned and walked toward the courtyard gate bathed in moonlight.

"Take them away, deliver them to Tongwan City overnight."

Three days later.

Three thick Confession Bamboo Silk Scrolls and three boxes of material evidence were neatly arranged on Chen Yan's Zitanmu Chang'an.

When Chen Yan finished reading the last page of the Confession, the copper oil lamp in the study had just been fitted with its third wick.

He closed the Bamboo Silk Scroll, and his finger traced a gentle arc across the table surface.

"Seven powerful figures, twelve thousand taels over three years."

He rose, went to the window, pushed open the casement, and the sky outside was already hazy with dawn.

"Qi State people spend their money so meticulously."

He turned, looking at Gao Jiong standing by the door and Zhang Wenqian seated at the table.

"How many of these seven powerful figures appear on the list we previously extracted from the household registration audit of those feigning death?"

Gao Jiong's answer slipped out.

"Five."

Chen Yan's mouth corner lifted a little.

"Good."

He walked back to the back of the desk and sat down, pulled out from the desk the list of powerful families that had falsified household registrations and pretended to be dead, and circled the five overlapping names with cinnabar.

"Make these five families, along with the Chen, Horse, and Zhao families, the first batch of net‑catch targets."

He pushed the list in front of Gao Jiong.

"But not now."

A slight twitch flickered at Gao Jiong's brow.

Chen Yan's fingers tapped the desk surface for the last time.

"Wait another two days and see whether those desperate rats will do something even more foolish."

The curve of his mouth stretched far in the lamplight, an expression Hongye had seen countless times.

Each time this expression appeared, it meant the trap had already been set, only waiting for the prey to walk in themselves.