Chapter 15: The Hot Potato

Gossip is always the best way to bring people closer.

Brew a pot of tea, gather a few colleagues to chat and gossip, and the day’s work is done.

Compared to the grind of his life before crossing over, this was real living.

It wasn’t Li Mu slacking off—it was simply the nature of the Five City Garrison Office that the less he did, the better.

Daily street patrols and resolving civilian disputes? That was all the subordinates’ work.

In this part of the southern city, as long as no major incident occurred, it was as good as nothing.

Only if a major case arose or if a noble’s son got into a fight would his rank as Battalion Commander require his personal intervention.

The powerful mostly lived in the western city; their lives didn’t overlap, so few noble sons ever came to the southern city causing trouble.

All he needed now was a private secretary to draft official documents and handle trivial matters.

These were minor issues—Great Yu had nothing in shortage except people.

The imperial examinations were a narrow bridge crossed by a million troops; only a tiny fraction broke through, while ninety-nine percent sank in defeat.

Knowing how hard the exams were, the clever chose shortcuts—joining officials’ households as retainers.

After serving for ten or twenty years, if their patron rose in rank, they could ride his coattails to official position.

Even if their patron never made it, they could still use the platform to expand connections and earn substantial fees.

In fact, even back in Hanzhong, Li Mu had already secured a private secretary.

But the scholar had bad luck—his mother died just before departure, forcing him to stay home for three years of mourning.

The new secretary was recommended by his uncle’s retainer: a Shaoxing juren who had failed the exams repeatedly and was now en route from his hometown.

In Great Yu, once someone passed the provincial exam, he became part of the ruling class and qualified for official appointment.

Under normal circumstances, with Li Mu’s current rank, it would be hard to recruit a juren.

The man agreed to join not just because of the Hou Fu’s prestige, but mainly for the convenience it offered toward the imperial exams.

For poor scholars lacking connections, bearing the Hou Fu’s label was itself valuable political capital.

The Dengwen Drum incident, besides providing gossip, had also ended his welcoming banquet.

Serving under the Son of Heaven, it was always safer to keep a low profile.

Throwing a grand banquet while the Emperor was most distressed—if the all-pervasive Embroidered Uniform Guard reported it, his future would be utterly dark.

…

“Go see what’s happening.”

Li Mu ordered, frowning.

If he’d encountered this yesterday, he’d have simply taken another route.

But now he couldn’t—he’d joined the Five City Garrison Office and had to fulfill his duties.

“My lord, someone posted a notice on the wall, and its content relates to the Dengwen Drum incident this morning.”

Hearing his subordinate’s report, Li Mu’s expression turned grim.

The Dengwen Drum incident had happened only hours ago, and even those in the know within the yamen still didn't know the truth.

Now someone already knew the inside story—and revealed it in this extreme way? Someone was clearly pulling strings behind the scenes.

“Disperse the crowd!”

Li Mu gave a decisive order.

Whoever was behind it, since it appeared in his jurisdiction, he had to take emergency action.

Even if the rumor spread, remedial measures couldn’t be skipped—that was a matter of attitude.

“Five City Garrison Office handling a case! All civilians, clear the area!”

Following the path cleared by soldiers, Li Mu stepped forward and saw the notice’s content—his face darkened instantly.

He’d known factional strife was fierce, but he hadn’t expected these bastards to play so recklessly.

According to the rules, political struggles were meant to be conducted behind closed doors—whoever tore the table apart like this?

The notice accused the mining tax supervisor of greed, extortion, and plunder—he believed it.

To collect taxes in the stronghold of the pure stream faction, you had to make a show of force—or you’d never get a single coin.

These bastards simply couldn’t control their greed and failed to strike the right balance, botching the Emperor’s orders.

To deal with them, you could follow proper procedure: gather evidence and impeach them on the court floor.

Emperor Tianyuan appointed eunuchs to balance the civil officials for the sake of the realm.

Once eunuchs became parasites harming the realm, he’d deal with them just as ruthlessly.

For the Emperor, executing a eunuch was far easier than executing a civil official.

But the pure stream faction broke the rules entirely, using the Dengwen Drum to make the matter public knowledge.

The rules protected all participants; when one side stopped obeying them, the next phase of struggle became a race to see who had the lower moral bottom line.

For the eunuch faction, this was a political disaster—but the pure stream faction, while gaining advantage, had also angered Emperor Tianyuan.

Attacking eunuchs and criticizing reformers were standard political maneuvers.

The Dengwen Drum was different—it would be recorded in the official histories.

For the Emperor, even a slight misstep here would become an undeniable political stain.

Unless Emperor Tianyuan conceded and met the pure stream faction’s demands, this incident would be magnified by the historians.

From the Emperor’s standpoint, this was a naked threat.

If Emperor Tianyuan were the type to yield easily, he’d never have pushed reforms under such pressure.

Somewhere deep down, Li Mu sensed something was off.

Using explosive tactics to escalate tensions gave them moral high ground—but for the fractured pure stream faction, it brought no real benefit.

Especially for the senior pure stream officials who held power in court: making the matter public only put themselves in greater danger.

From now on, factional strife would enter its most intense phase; the eunuch faction and the pure stream faction had no chance of reconciliation.

One side must fall—only then could this struggle end.

“What are you standing there for? Tear it down immediately!”

“Issue orders: mobilize every man in the Battalion Command to confiscate these illegal notices.”

“Tell the people: if they don’t want to end up in the Imperial Prison, they must tear down any illegal notices on their walls immediately and stop spreading rumors.”

The truth? Li Mu had no time to investigate now—he was just the unlucky fish caught in the fire at the city gate.

The Five City Garrison Office’s responsibilities were vast, including suppressing rumors and maintaining social stability.

If the rumor was confirmed to have originated in the southern city, his tenure as Battalion Commander—barely one day old—would be over.

Fortunately, this was the southern city, inhabited mostly by the lowest strata of society, politically powerless and terrified of trouble—so the Five City Garrison Office held immense deterrent power here.

Controlling people’s tongues might be hard, but getting them to remove notices from their own walls? That was doable.

As long as the notices were cleared quickly, Li Mu could pretend nothing had happened.

Investigating the mastermind? Wait for imperial orders first.

Historical experience told him: when factional strife was involved, avoid getting entangled if at all possible.

(End of chapter)