Chapter 820

Half a year later, autumn.

The twelve granaries of the Governor's Mansion in Tongwan City were all sealed on the third day of the ninth month, not because they were empty, but because they couldn't hold any more.

Zhang Wenqian held the autumn harvest general ledger, which was three fingers thick, and ran in from outside the main hall, his official boots stumbling on the copper rail, and he almost fell at the threshold.

When he steadied himself, the ledger in his hands was gripped until his knuckles turned white.

Chen Yan sat in the main seat, his finger slowly drawing circles on the edge of the teacup, his gaze falling on Zhang Wenqian's flushed face.

"Old Zhang, with you looking like this, I thought the granary had collapsed."

Zhang Wenqian took a deep breath, held the ledger with both hands before Chen Yan, and opened it to the summary column on the last page.

"Zhuguo, the autumn harvest yield per mu has broken three shi."

His voice trembled when he said this number, the same way it had half a year ago when he first saw the silk scroll of the Three Principles and Five Constants.

"One million mu of fertile land, a cumulative total of 4.2 million shi in storage; that's not even counting the conversion of animal husbandry and side businesses."

His finger drew a heavy line under that row of numbers in the ledger.

"Xiazhou's total tax revenue this year has tripled compared to last year, and the war treasury's silver reserves have skyrocketed from less than 800,000 taels at the beginning of the year to 2.4 million taels."

He raised his head to look at Chen Yan, his eyes slightly red.

"Zhuguo, the most prosperous place in the northern frontier is not Luozhou, not Bingzhou, but our Xiazhou."

Chen Yan took the ledger, his finger sliding line by line over those numbers, pausing for two breaths when he reached the last line.

He closed the ledger, placed it on the table, stood up, and walked to the window of the main hall.

Outside the window was the open-air square on the east side of the Governor's Mansion, where a dozen temporary grain piles like small mountains were stacked, the sacks neatly arranged, each pile covered with oilcloth to prevent rain, and patrolling soldiers circling the grain piles.

Chen Yan looked at those grain piles, the curve of his mouth slowly changing shape.

"A wealthy country and a strong people is a good thing."

His voice lowered by half, carrying a coldness that Zhang Wenqian had heard countless times.

"But once the granary is full, the rats come; I know that little something in human nature too well."

Zhang Wenqian's smile receded by two parts, and his lips pursed.

"Is the Zhuguo worried that someone will tamper with the taxes and grain?"

Chen Yan did not answer; his finger tapped on the window frame, his gaze falling on the large flag written with the two characters "Xiazhou" at the end of the square.

Rapid footsteps came from outside the main hall, not one person's footsteps, but three.

Chu Ci rushed in first, drenched in sweat, the front of his green official robe soaked through with a large dark patch.

He was clutching a piece of hemp cloth in his hand, the cloth crumpled, with a patch of dried, blackened stains on the corner.

Not ink.

Blood.

Chen Yan turned around, his gaze falling on the hemp cloth in Chu Ci's hand.

"What is it?"

Chu Ci's voice was slightly out of tune with anxiety.

"Zhuguo, this is a blood letter taken from the anonymous denunciation box in Qinggui County this morning."

He unfolded the hemp cloth and handed it to Chen Yan with trembling hands.

"The person who wrote it can no longer be found, but this subordinate suspects that the person who wrote the blood letter is very likely already dead."

Chen Yan took the hemp cloth and unfolded it in the light by the window to scan it twice.

The characters on the hemp cloth were crooked, some strokes so blurred they were almost unrecognizable, clearly showing that the writer was in a state of extreme fear or extreme weakness when writing. But after piecing the content together, every word was enough to make one's spine chill.

After Chen Yan finished reading, he placed the hemp cloth on the table, his finger sliding slowly beside a line of text on it.

"Iron Wolf Gang."

When he spat these three words out of his mouth, the tone was flat, but Zhang Wenqian and Chu Ci felt the temperature in the study drop by several degrees at the same instant.

"Old Zhang, do you know what kind of people these are?"

Zhang Wenqian's brow furrowed; he walked to the table, lowered his head to read the content on the blood letter, and his complexion sank bit by bit.

"This subordinate has only seen this name in the secret files; a mountain bandit force on the western trade route of Xiazhou, which existed back when the Qi State was still here."

His fingers tightened by two parts in front of him.

"But this subordinate always thought they were just small-time horse bandits; I didn't expect..."

Chu Ci continued, his voice suppressed very low.

"It's not small-time, Zhuguo."

He walked to the table and pointed to the content on the blood letter.

"The person who wrote the blood letter says that the Iron Wolf Gang doesn't just collect exorbitant passage fees, but also monopolizes the trade of iron ore on the entire western trade route."

His finger moved down two lines.

"A month ago, a merchant caravan coming from the north refused to hand over their iron ore, and the Iron Wolf Gang detained the entire caravan, people and goods—thirty-seven people."

His voice changed when he said the next sentence.

"They killed them all, not even sparing a three-year-old child; the bodies were tied to stones and sunk into the Heaven Pool."

The main hall fell into silence for three breaths.

Chen Yan's finger paused on that line of text on the blood letter, his fingertip pressing on the two characters "three-year-old," the force in his knuckles leaving a shallow mark on the table.

Gao Jiong's footsteps came from outside the door, the sound of armor plates colliding three times more urgent than usual.

He crossed the threshold, clutching a file he had retrieved from the Mingjing Si secret files, his face livid to the point of pale lips.

"Zhuguo."

He spread the file out on the desk, his voice suppressed to the bottom.

"This subordinate just checked the background of the Iron Wolf Gang; this force has been active in western Xiazhou for at least half a year, and not a single piece of intelligence has been sent back to the Mingjing Si headquarters in half a year."

His teeth gritted, and the veins on his temples jumped twice.

"Half a year, and my hidden agents are all over twenty-eight counties, yet not a single person has reported it."

Chen Yan raised his gaze from the file and looked into Gao Jiong's eyes.

"Do you think it's a problem with the hidden agents, or is someone providing them cover?"

Gao Jiong's palm clenched into a fist, his knuckles emitting a series of cracking sounds.

"This subordinate judges it to be the latter."

He flipped out a page from the file, which marked the establishment and defense zones of the western garrison of Xiazhou.

"The area where the Iron Wolf Gang operates happens to cover the defense zones of the Third and Fifth Battalions of the Zhechong Prefecture; to dare to collect passage fees to this extent, to dare to wipe out a caravan of thirty-seven people and get away with it—if there's no protective umbrella from the military behind them, I'd rather die than believe it."

Chen Yan's finger drew a circle around the establishment serial numbers of those two battalions in the file, the cinnabar mark bright and glaring on the white silk.

Chu Ci pulled another item from his sleeve at this moment and placed it on the table.

A finger.

A blackened, bloody human finger.

Zhang Wenqian's complexion changed.

Chu Ci's voice carried an anger and shame that he was trying his best to suppress.

"Zhuguo, this subordinate previously sent two sharp yamen runners to secretly investigate the movements of the Iron Wolf Gang; the two were intercepted on the road by people disguised as horse bandits."

His Adam's apple rolled.

"They were hacked to death with random blades, not even leaving a whole corpse."

He pointed to the severed finger on the table.

"Last night, this subordinate found this thing under my pillow, and there was a slip of paper pressed beside it with four characters written on it."

He took a deep breath.

"Next, you."

The air in the main hall chilled to the freezing point.

Zhang Wenqian slammed his fist onto the table, his voice raising.

"Bastards, this is blatant intimidation of imperial officials! Zhuguo, this subordinate suggests immediately dispatching Lu Ming's heavy armored infantry to the western trade route for a dragnet-style encirclement, leaving none alive!"

Chen Yan pushed the teacup aside, his finger slowly drawing an arc on the armrest.

"No."

Zhang Wenqian's anger paused for a beat.

"Zhuguo?"

Chen Yan stood up, walked to the military sand table, and pressed his palm on the location representing the western trade route of Xiazhou.

"There's a mole in the military; if the army moves, the news will leak before the order is sent from the Governor's Mansion, and by the time your troops reach the trade route, the Iron Wolf Gang will have long since shrunk back into their hole."

His finger withdrew from the sand table, and he turned to look at everyone in the main hall.

"If you don't hit the snake at its seven-inch mark, it can still bite you after you've hit it."

He walked back to the table and covered the blood letter with his palm.

"What I want is not the heads of a few hundred horse bandits of the Iron Wolf Gang; what I want is all the malignant tumors on this entire chain of interests, from beginning to end, not one left."

Gao Jiong's eyes brightened.

"Does the Zhuguo mean..."

The curve of Chen Yan's mouth stretched to its longest.

"I will go personally."

Zhang Wenqian's complexion changed again.

"Zhuguo, you cannot put yourself in danger; the assassination at the Spring Plowing Ceremony less than three months ago..."

Chen Yan raised his hand, interrupting him.

"Last time they came to find me; this time I am going to find them—it's different."

He turned his head to look at the silent moon-white figure by the door.

"Hongye."

Hongye nodded slightly.

Chen Yan's voice lowered, the curve of his mouth carrying something that made Gao Jiong's spine chill.

"Go and prepare a few sets of merchant clothes; I am going to personally meet this group of Iron Wolves who don't know how to die."

His finger tapped the table for the last time, the sound echoing in the main hall for a long time.

"Let's see how hard their protective umbrella really is, and whether it can withstand my blade."