Chapter 44: Ambush

"Mr. Lan, I am a military officer; many matters are not for me to interfere with."

The rule of the bureaucracy: if you are not in the position, do not meddle in its affairs."

Pacifying the people’s hearts is the Yangzhou Prefecture’s responsibility; above us stands the Provincial Administration Commissioner’s office to supervise—there is no place for me, a Battalion Commander, to insert myself."

Since you have classmates in Yangzhou, why not take the opportunity to visit them?"

First, to renew old friendships; second, to casually gather information on Yangzhou’s current situation."

Li Mu could not help but offer a hint.

The proof is clear: a qualified private secretary must be tempered by time.

This stems from one’s background: being in the lower and middle strata of society leads to a severe lack of understanding of bureaucratic norms.

No matter how talented, until one’s mindset shifts, one can only assist with trivial matters.

Li Mu dared not employ those seasoned private secretaries.

Their political labels are secondary; the key is that their accumulated experience is mostly negative.

Regardless of their abilities, their moral integrity is certainly long gone.

"Thank you, my lord, for your guidance!"

Lan Linjie said with a face full of shame.

It should have been the private secretary reminding his patron—but due to bureaucratic experience, it was Li Mu, the patron, who had to advise his own private secretary.

He had originally felt demeaned by serving under a Battalion Commander; now he saw how much he still lacked.

If he did not even understand the rules of the bureaucratic game, how could he hope to realize his ambitions? If he truly entered officialdom, he would not even know how he died.

…

At dusk, the Qinhuai River was crowded with flower boats, their lights reflected on the water, shimmering.

Melodious lute music, lingering songs, captivating dances.

Even those accustomed to grand spectacles were enchanted by the unique Jiangnan charm.

Seeing this scene, Hao Xingfeng nodded in satisfaction.

This was exactly the effect he wanted.

Yangzhou had no shortage of other things—but it had plenty of beauties.

The salt merchant case had dragged on so long that he no longer knew how to end it.

If the matter could be settled over wine, that would be best—after all, Yangzhou salt merchants never lacked money.

Deep inside, he had resolved: if he survived this crisis, he would request a transfer from Yangzhou immediately.

Over the past few years, he had already amassed enough.

Walking by the river too long, one was bound to get one’s shoes wet.

After a few cups of wine, the atmosphere grew even more lively.

Some profligate young masters, unable to control their emotions, began to reveal their true colors.

They left their private rooms in small groups, going out on their own to seek amusement.

The Marquis of Wuyang, as the chief official, calmly drank and ate with the Yangzhou officials, as if he saw nothing happening around him.

"Master, something is amiss!"

The gate guards reported: many strangers have appeared outside, apparently armed."

The news brought by Master Zhu startled Hao Xingfeng.

The guests invited today were all nobles from the capital.

If anything happened, his position as Prefect would be over.

Recalling the salt merchants’ arrested subordinates—who might erupt at any moment—he instantly realized the situation was dire.

Thinking of this, Prefect Hao immediately ordered:

"Master Zhu, send men immediately to disperse these people."

"Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh…"

It was too late—the rain of arrows shattered the music and dancing of Changchun Pavilion.

The yamen runners, who could only bully commoners, stood no chance against a band of fierce salt soldiers.

After a brief clash, the fire spread into the pavilion.

Screams of escape and agony pierced the night, spreading outward.

"Hold back your blows!"

This mission was ordered jointly by the seven prefectural lords!"

These officials from the capital must be captured alive—only then will they be useful!"

The scar-faced leader scolded his men, who were hacking wildly.

The attack came too fast; the yamen troops offered no resistance whatsoever, completely contrary to the original plan.

In less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, over a hundred were dead or wounded in Changchun Pavilion; the survivors scattered in panic, unable to organize any meaningful resistance.

…

Under the protection of his retainers, the Marquis of Wuyang escaped through a dog hole and could not help but rage.

"Prefect Hao, you really know how to pick a location!"

Though he knew his purpose in coming was to sell out his ally, this was too humiliating.

The hidden truth could not be made public—so Hao Xingfeng deserved his fate.

He chose the venue; therefore, he bore responsibility for security.

Now, with nobles from the capital and Yangzhou officials dead or wounded in large numbers, he, as Prefect, was the primary culprit.

"My lord, I am innocent!"

Had I known rebels hid in Yangzhou, I would have sent men to arrest them at once!"

It must be the negligence of subordinates that allowed these traitors to infiltrate!"

Hao Xingfeng explained frantically.

Deep inside, he already hated the salt merchants.

Having served as an official for over a decade, he had seen many who courted death—but never ones so recklessly foolish.

Attacking the imperial envoy’s party and shouting to capture them alive—this was a direct provocation against Great Yu’s authority.

Now branded as rebels, the original salt smuggling case had escalated into treason.

Unless rivers run red with blood, this matter will not end.

"Let it be so."

"Just now, as we fled, we faintly heard the rebels mention 'the seven prefectural lords.' May I ask—what seven prefectures are these?"

At the Marquis of Wuyang’s words, Hao Xingfeng froze in terror.

The behind-the-scenes patrons of the Two Huai salt trade happened to be seven major families.

For "seven prefectures" to appear here—he could not believe it was coincidence.

Could these people truly be planning rebellion?

The thought had barely formed when he crushed it.

In recent years, Great Yu has suffered constant natural disasters and human misfortunes—but the court has handled them well, and no major chaos has erupted.

To raise the banner of rebellion now would be sheer suicide.

Moreover, the seven families are rivals themselves; their private conflicts have never ceased—how could they possibly unite so easily?

"My lord, this may be a false alias used by the rebels to mislead us."

Hao Xingfeng forced an explanation.

He simply could not believe the seven major families of Two Huai were foolish enough to plan such a hasty attack—and deliberately reveal their identity.

"Oh, perhaps I overthought it."

"But your Yangzhou Prefecture’s troops are truly worthless—mud cannot be made into a wall."

"For Yangzhou’s safety, the Five City Garrison Command will assume control of Yangzhou’s defense. You have no objection, do you?"

The mask had fallen—if Hao Xingfeng still failed to see the danger, he had no place left in officialdom.

"My lord, this violates protocol!"

Once Yangzhou’s defense is handed over, control passes entirely to the Marquis of Wuyang.

All future developments will be dictated by the Five City Garrison Command—he will find it impossible to intervene.

"In emergencies, one must act as needed—Prefect Hao, do not bring ruin upon yourself!"

The Marquis of Wuyang warned coldly.

If he cooperates, the transfer will be peaceful.

If not, it will be seized by force.

He had already prepared his excuse: someone in the Yangzhou Prefecture colluded with rebels to attack the imperial envoy.

That person could be any unlucky yamen runner, any subordinate official, or even the Prefect of Yangzhou himself.

(End of Chapter)