Chapter 79: A Spear Strikes Like a Dragon

Three days passed in the blink of an eye.

Zhao Han went to the county yamen to get his household registration papers, but Private Secretary He made excuses that he still hadn't managed to get the official seal, telling him to go back to the inn and wait another two days.

"Something's off with this private secretary," Fei Lin mused. "Is he angling for more money?"

Zhao Han shook his head. "We can't add any more. At least not until the household registration is stamped — no more silver before that, or it'll become a bottomless pit."

Before transmigrating, Zhao Han had read plenty of stories about corrupt officials, and he knew all about the greed of private secretaries in ancient times.

Now that he was experiencing it firsthand, it was simply breathtaking!

Zhao Han began slowly working through the details. The private secretary was dragging his feet on the matter — nothing more than wanting to keep squeezing for money.

But if he wanted to squeeze for money, just stalling endlessly didn't make sense either.

The normal approach would be to stamp the household registration first, then demand more money from Zhao Han face to face — that was the proper way of doing business.

If he kept refusing to stamp it, that meant he wasn't in a hurry to get money. Could there be some other scheme?

Over the next two days, Zhao Han secretly kept watch on the county yamen, and he really did uncover something.

Fei Yuanyi's trusted household slave, Old Five, had come to the county seat together with a clerk who delivered correspondence, and the two entered the yamen side by side.

That old scoundrel!

Zhao Han finally understood what was going on. So this private secretary didn't take him seriously at all — he was only concerned with currying favor with the old master of the Fei clan.

He rushed back to the inn and said to Fei Lin, "Uncle Lin, get out of the city right now and make ready. Once I reach the dock, we cast off immediately."

"What's happened?" Fei Lin had no idea what was going on.

Zhao Han said, "The old master's household slave just entered the county yamen!"

As the head steward of Jingxing Court, Fei Lin was no fool. He immediately panicked and said, "Then we must hurry back. Your bondservant contract has already been torn up — right now you're nothing but a drifter. If the old master wants to harm you, the yamen will certainly arrest you. If you hide in Jingxing Court, you'll be safe."

"I don't want to put Madam and the young lady in a difficult position. If I hide in Jingxing Court to save myself, they'll surely clash with the old master again," Zhao Han shook his head. "You go to the dock and get ready to sail."

"Then what exactly are you planning?" Fei Lin asked.

Zhao Han smiled and said, "Uncle Lin, Fei Chun and I are as close as brothers, so I'm practically half a son to you too. Whatever I do, I certainly won't harm you, so don't ask any more."

Fei Lin thought it over, nodded, and said, "Fine. You've always had a mind of your own, so I won't press further. Just be careful in everything!"

After seeing Fei Lin off from the inn, Zhao Han packed his traveling belongings and carefully wiped the spearhead with a cotton cloth.

He could no longer stay in Yanshan County. Zhao Han had originally planned to slowly build up his strength, but he had jumped out too far and drawn hatred.

He could also choose not to leave — hide in Jingxing Court and continue being a household slave. The authorities wouldn't dare storm into a powerful clan's residence to search for a drifter.

But what would be the point of that?

He might as well go for something big. He'd been stifled for years anyway — it was just the thing to lift his spirits and stretch his limbs a bit.

Did they really think this old man was just some lowly household slave!

After wrapping the spearhead in cloth again, Zhao Han went to the inn counter, slapped down some silver for the room fee, and said, "Innkeeper, keep the change. Just give me two fire sticks."

"Right away!" The innkeeper immediately called out, "Bring two fire sticks over here!"

Zhao Han inspected them carefully, confirmed both fire sticks were in working order, then picked up his long spear and strode toward the county yamen.

"Halt!"

When he reached the main gate of the yamen, a runner blocked his way.

Zhao Han cupped his hands and said ingratiatingly, "Good sir officer, I have an appointment with Private Secretary He. I'd trouble you to let me pass."

Being addressed as "sir officer" put the runner in a very pleasant mood. A smile appeared on his face, and he pointed at Zhao Han's long spear, saying, "The yamen is a restricted area. You may not bring weapons inside."

Zhao Han pulled out a handful of copper coins, bowing and scraping as he said, "Please, would you help me announce my arrival?"

Having taken the money, the runner smiled even more broadly and trotted inside to announce him, but still wouldn't let Zhao Han enter.

After about the time it takes to burn one stick of incense, He Can emerged from the yamen, all smiles. "Little brother, put down your weapon and come in quickly."

Zhao Han put on an angry front. "You should know, Private Secretary, we've been waiting for days and simply can't wait any longer. Uncle Lin has already gone to the dock to ready the boat. I came to the yamen to inquire — if it still can't be done, we'll just have to come back after the New Year. The way you handle matters is truly disheartening!"

He Can explained, "It's already been taken care of. Quickly, put down your weapon and come in."

Zhao Han shook his head. "This spear of mine is very valuable. I dare not hand it over to someone else to hold."

He Can reassured him, "Just give it to the runner. Would a dignified county yamen really swallow up a single long spear of yours?"

"Hard to say," Zhao Han refused absolutely to hand over his weapon.

He Can had no choice but to say, "Then come in. Your household registration has already been stamped with the official seal."

So easily, they were letting a commoner bring a weapon into the yamen?

There was definitely a trap!

Zhao Han followed the private secretary through the main gate. They did not enter the main hall but detoured to the adjacent revenue office.

"Wait here. I'll go get your household registration papers," He Can said.

A cold smile appeared on Zhao Han's face. He stood outside the revenue office without a word.

He Can slipped inside, suddenly shut the door, and shouted from within, "Seize this villain! He dared to bring a weapon and force his way into the yamen — likely harboring malicious intent to harm His Honor the Magistrate!"

The runners who had been lying in ambush immediately rushed out from the various offices, brandishing water-and-fire staves and surrounding Zhao Han completely.

Zhao Han put on a show of extreme terror and shouted, "Does the private secretary think it's too little? You've already taken three hundred taels — I'll give you five hundred taels more in silver, how about that!"

Three hundred taels?

Five hundred taels?

"Hold it!"

The Constable materialized instantly from the armory, ordering the runners to stay their hands. He shouted toward the revenue office, "Private Secretary He, so it's an eight-hundred-tael deal! That's not what you told me!"

The Registrar also emerged from the granary and treasury office. He said nothing, merely standing to the side and watching the show.

"Bullshit!"

He Can immediately threw open the door, his face extremely ugly, and shouted from the doorway, "Don't listen to this scoundrel's nonsense! If there really were eight hundred taels, would I have let you two get involved?"

Zhao Han, looking utterly terrified, said, "Private Secretary He, did I let it slip? My fault, my fault!"

As he spoke, Zhao Han hastily explained to the crowd again: "I really didn't give him eight hundred taels. I only gave him three hundred. Everyone, don't wrongly blame the private secretary."

The Constable immediately sneered, staring fixedly at He Can: "Private Secretary, a big business of three hundred taels, you work my brothers so hard, and you give me a measly five taels of silver? That's utterly unreasonable. Do you take me for a beggar?"

"Ahem!"

The Registrar coughed twice from the side, still saying nothing, merely indicating that he had heard.

Everyone who sees it gets a share!

"Sure enough, a glib-tongued fellow," He Can pointed at Zhao Han and said angrily, "This is just a household slave. Even if you sold him off, how could he possibly produce several hundred taels?"

Zhao Han instantly flew into a rage: "Secretary He, you took the money and now you want to go back on your word? I was simply setting up my own household and sought your help to get a household registration slip. I gave the gatekeeper two taels, and I also treated you to a fine meal at a restaurant. At first you said twenty taels would settle it, then you kept dragging it out and demanding more money, until it reached three hundred taels before you would act. That I could endure, but why, after taking three hundred taels, do you still want to harm me today?"

Having said this, Zhao Han turned and asked the runners: "Tell me, gentlemen officers, is there such a black-hearted man anywhere under heaven?"

Although the runners still surrounded Zhao Han, one after another they lowered their water-and-fire staves, already accepting Zhao Han's account, all feeling that the private secretary had acted dishonorably.

Greed has its own code; taking money without delivering the deed will get you stabbed in the back.

What was even more detestable was that the private secretary had taken several hundred taels, yet today, when he had them arrest someone, he gave each man only a few dozen copper cash as reward!

Too stingy. The runners very much wanted to help Zhao Han and give the private secretary a good beating on the spot.

The Constable walked over step by step, hand pressing on his saber hilt: "Secretary He, if this matter reaches His Honor the Magistrate, I'm afraid it won't be easy to explain away."

He Can, unable to defend himself, said with a mournful face: "I really didn't take three hundred taels. This scoundrel is spouting blood from his mouth."

The Constable put on a smiling face and walked toward Zhao Han, saying amiably: "Little brother, tell me the details. I will certainly see justice done for you."

Zhao Han pointed at He Can: "Secretary He, before this gentleman here, do you dare come over and confront me?"

"Don't listen to his nonsense! Seize this wretch at once!" He Can was dizzy with rage.

Zhao Han burst out cursing: "You turtle bastard, you took my three hundred taels to handle the matter, and now you want to arrest me and throw me in jail to extort more silver? Today I'll risk it all — do you dare come over and confront me or not!"

"Indeed," the Constable also asked He Can, "Secretary, do you dare speak clearly face to face?"

He Can had no choice but to walk to the Constable's side and say in a low voice: "Brother Jin, let's discuss this in private. With so many runners present, how can anything be said clearly?"

The Constable also lowered his voice: "Give me a hundred taels of the cut."

He Can replied irritably: "From both sides, upper and lower, I'm only getting a hundred taels total. And of that hundred, ten taels haven't even come in yet!"

The Constable was about to say more, but the Registrar had already walked up to them.

The Registrar said nothing, just stood there quietly watching the two of them. In any case, he too wanted a slice of the pie.

A thought flashed through He Can's mind, and he suddenly said: "How about this. The old master of the Fei clan at Goose Lake wants this household slave dead. Who knows what filthy business lies behind it. We arrest the man and throw him in jail, lock him up for a month or so, then write a letter to Old Master Fei. Tell him the county yamen has too many eyes and mouths, a few dozen taels of silver can't get it done, and have him add another two hundred taels."

The Constable hesitated: "Offending the Fei clan — that might not be wise."

He Can laughed: "What's unwise about it? The matter's already blown open. Which of the runners and the clerks of the six offices doesn't know about it? Is this something fifty taels of silver can settle?"

The Constable turned to look. Sure enough, the doors of the six offices were all open, and the clerks were poking their heads out one after another, craning their necks.

"Fine, let's do it that way!" the Constable said through gritted teeth.

The Registrar, however, suddenly sneered and finally spoke up: "Secretary He, do you take everyone else for fools? Raising the price midway through a job will certainly enrage Master Fei. You can just pat your backside and leave, but Constable Jin and I still have to keep working here in Yanshan."

"Right, I've still got half a lifetime to work here!" The Constable came back to his senses.

The Registrar added in a barbed tone: "Who knows, someone might enrage Master Fei and then secretly shift all the blame onto our heads."

The Constable pressed his hand on his saber hilt once more, glaring furiously at He Can.

He Can nearly coughed up a mouthful of old blood. Pained, he said: "This deal — one tenth goes to the civil and military clerks, the remaining ninety percent the three of us split evenly."

"Ha, now you're talking!" The Constable was overjoyed.

The Registrar also wore a faint smile, standing there silent again.

He Can said: "First, seize this wretch!"

Just as the Constable was about to give the order, Zhao Han suddenly shouted: "I still have silver! I'll give you another hundred taels. Sir officer, I beg you, spare me this once!"

"Really?"

The Constable's eyes lit up at the sight of money, and he instinctively took two more steps toward Zhao Han.

Entering attack range, Zhao Han suddenly thrust his spear forward.

For four whole years, every single day, just on the thrusting motion alone, Zhao Han had trained a thousand repetitions.

He could generate power from any angle, striking precisely where he aimed, as if the spear were an extension of his own arm.

In an instant, the spear shot forth like a dragon, straight for the Constable's throat.

The Constable — equivalent to the county's chief of public security, and also the man with the highest combat strength on the scene. Kill him, and the rest would be leaderless.

(End of chapter)