Chapter 289: Not a creditor but the stronghold chief!

The thin mist cleared, and the sky and earth were bright.

The daylight followed the mountain slope down, gradually enveloping the Horizontal City set among the mountains.

This is a most ordinary mountain town, its walls aged, its lanes simple, lacking the prosperity of a major garrison; only everyday smoke and fire, peaceful and tranquil.

Speaking of the past, this town was utterly unremarkable.

But a new county magistrate arrived a few days ago, and after several people‑benefiting measures, the formerly stagnant old town gained some vitality.

As for the liveliest spot in Horizontal City nowadays, it is none other than the town's martial arts field.

Now dust rose lightly in the field as over a hundred militiamen lowered their heads to drill, formations spread out, and the atmosphere buzzed.

These men were merely the town's able‑bodied youths, not regular soldiers, so their builds and appearances varied—tall or short, fat or thin—making them look somewhat disorderly when gathered, lacking dignity, far from imposing.

Yet the militiamen's strength lay in their unity: when drilling they advanced and retreated in order, raised hands and fell feet in unison, the sound of their steps rose and fell in layers, their punches and kicks moved with the same rhythm, revealing a solid, disciplined spirit and a distinctive heroic vigor.

Order reigned on the martial arts field, drilling proceeded without disruption, yet within this orderly atmosphere a hurried figure suddenly burst in from outside.

A tall, thin man came running all the way, his face full of anxiety, yet he had no time to wipe his sweat, darting sideways to weave past rows of drilling militiamen, his steps never pausing as he sprinted straight for the high platform.

That tall, thin man, while sprinting, shouted loudly in panic, his voice piercing the field's orderly tread:

"Chief! Chief! Something's wrong! Something's wrong!"

The abrupt shout was especially grating, instantly startling the entire field.

The drilling militiamen all halted mid‑motion, turning their heads to look at the fleeing, shouting man.

This man was familiar—he was the city's scout responsible for reconnaissance, usually well‑liked, so many recognized him at once, and upon hearing what he had to say......

Instantly a murmuring rustle spread through the crowd, people glanced at each other, whispering low, scattered discussion rising and falling.

The previously solemn drill scene instantly gained a hint of unrest and unease.

Before the scout could rush onto the platform, a sturdy figure strode out from the front of the formation.

The man was broad‑shouldered, his arms solid, his face stern—none other than the daily overseer of drill and disciplinarian of the troops, known as Second Brother.

Seeing the scout's rash loss of composure, and hearing him shout the old nickname of their boss in public, his face darkened instantly, he stepped forward, grabbed the scout's nape as if seizing a chick, and yanked the running man to a halt.

The burly man fixed his gaze on the scout's pallid face, lowered his voice, and rebuked him with a hint of frustration:

"What are you shouting 'chief' for? Have you lost your mind?"

"Our elder brother intercepted the incoming Horizontal City magistrate, seized his seal and all his appointment documents, and has long been the legitimate Horizontal City magistrate. Moreover, a few days ago our brothers jointly captured Pure City, securing our territory and establishing our status!"

"We are now registered officials, part of the government, no longer the bandits who took to the hills because they couldn't pay taxes!"

Second Brother's brows knit tighter, his tone growing graver:

"You keep shouting 'chief' in front of everyone, causing hundreds of militiamen below to hear it, stirring panic and rumors—how do you expect them to view the present situation?"

The tall, thin man whose neck was gripped was instantly snapped to awareness by that stern rebuke; his frantic mind settled, his face flushed red, his heart filled with guilt and regret.

He had just panicked and lost his wits, completely forgetting that everyone had long since changed their status, left the bandit life, and taken over the city!

To call him 'chief' again—isn't that just lowering his status by a notch?

The tall, thin man, overcome with regret, raised his hand and slapped his own cheeks several times; the sharp slaps rang out especially clear amid the noisy martial arts field.

After a few slaps, he lowered his head and bowed, his voice full of remorse:

"Sorry, Second Brother—I was foolish and rash, overstepping my bounds!"

"But this time I've returned with truly urgent news to report to the magistrate—it's the prefecture office, people have come from the prefecture!"

"What?!"

Upon hearing this, Second Brother's body jolted; the severity on his face vanished instantly, replaced by utter shock.

The prefecture office lies far away in the prefecture city; aside from reaching out for taxes, it has always paid no heed to their newly acquired two‑city domain......

Now they suddenly sent people over—this is certainly no trivial matter!

He instinctively muttered a curse, his eyes full of vigilance:

"Those damned lot, who usually just squeeze the people's fat and grease—now why send folks over all of a sudden? Showing up uninvited means no good—where are they now?"

The tall, thin man hastily replied:

"The envoys are waiting outside the city, not daring to enter on their own; they expressly sent me racing back on horseback to report, awaiting your orders!"

The situation is urgent, allowing no delay.

Second Brother hesitated no more, immediately striding toward the martial arts high platform, his steps urgent yet steady.

The tall, thin scout hastily gathered his wits, quick‑stepped to follow, closely ascending the steps behind him.

The two climbed together, traversing roughly a hundred steps of stairs, finally reaching the platform's summit, where the view opened wide.

Upon the platform it was calm and windless, starkly different from the bustling drill field below.

At the center of the platform lay a single figure—none other than Liu Ji, who now holds the magistracy of both Horizontal City and Pure City and is the leader of the band of brothers.

Liu Ji is about thirty, in the prime of life, bearing none of the stern stiffness of a typical government official.

He reclined casually on a bamboo chair, his clothing loose, his chest bare, his posture languid and dissolute.

A strand of warm sunlight fell upon him, soft and comforting.

He held a slender grass blade between his lips, his eyes half‑closed, long lashes drooping—appearing asleep, yet actually in a light doze.

His face was strikingly handsome; even with his peach‑blossom eyes shut, they still bore a hint of romantic nonchalance, wholly the image of an idle rogue—no one would guess he is the one who commands two cities and controls the regional situation.

Second Brother and the scout hurried to the chair, their expressions grave, breath slightly short, about to bow and report this sudden emergency.

Before either could speak, Liu Ji, who had been feigning sleep, already moved first.

He lifted his hand, gently plucked the grass blade from his lips, idly twirled the stem with his fingertips, and slowly opened those deep‑affectionate peach‑blossom eyes that could make even a dog feel loved.

His tone was calm and nonchalant, devoid of any panic, as he lightly spoke to interrupt them:

"Enough, enough—no need to say more."

"You two have been running back and forth, arguing and shouting, making such a huge commotion that even halfway across the martial arts field one can hear it clearly......"

After a brief pause, Liu Ji's composure settled, and he slowly gave his order:

You go out of the city immediately and bring the envoy of Zhoufu inside. I will personally meet them, listen carefully, and see what wicked scheme they have come all this way for.

?? coming coming||ヽ(*￣▽￣*)ノミ|Ю

? Why are there fewer and fewer people lately? Really, no one leaves more comments saying they love the author? The author's heart is really fragile; if no one keeps them company, they'll really collapse with a bang!