Chapter 579: Fifteen, Great Misfortune

"Hey, old man, come get your stuff!"

A salt gang man pulled out a sack of salt and a bulging cloth bag from the cart, forcing a smile.

Unfortunately, his rugged face and the tattoo visible on his chest made that smile look even more menacing.

Thud!

The old man jumped in fright and slammed the door shut.

"Old bastard…"

The salt gang man was furious but dared not retaliate; he forced another smile and shouted to the crowd: "Citizens of Chengdu, don't be afraid—these are all free, gifts from His Highness the Prince of Shu, so you can have a good New Year!"

Yet no matter how loudly he shouted, no one dared approach.

Chengdu was a melting pot of all sects and classes, and its people had seen plenty.

Not just these ruthless salt gang members—even the street thugs and petty scoundrels in the city all had their own schemes.

Take the stuff, and they'd demand payment for hauling it away—more than the goods themselves were worth. If you didn't want it, they'd charge you to move it out of your home.

In the end, you could only grit your teeth and accept it.

Even worse methods existed—enough to destroy entire families.

In short, there was no such thing as a free lunch in this world.

The imperial salt and iron taxes were heavy; remote areas could still sneakily buy cheaper smuggled salt, but Chengdu's people had no choice but to buy from salt merchants.

So even a single sack of salt could save a lot of money.

Yet after calling for a long time, still no one dared come forward.

The salt gang man grew desperate and tore open another bundle, shouting: "See this? Cakes, dried fruits, needles, thread—all free, don't miss out!"

Finally, a greedy little brat ran over.

"Dogwa!"

The child's grandmother rushed after him in panic.

The salt gang man was overjoyed; as the child approached, he shoved cakes into his hands, then grabbed a full sack of salt and a cloth bag, and thrust them into the grandmother's arms without waiting for a word.

"This… really free?"

The grandmother stared at the bundle, hesitant.

"If you want to pay, cut off my head!"

The man glared, and the grandmother yanked her grandson away—but kept the goods in her hands.

Seeing nothing happen, more people slowly gathered.

The salt gang man beamed and hurried to distribute items, shouting loudly: "This is the Prince of Shu's grace! Don't be afraid, citizens—arresting rebels has nothing to do with you, go out and enjoy the streets!"

That's how people are: once one dares, another follows.

"Don't fight over it! One portion each, everyone gets some, hahaha…"

The man finally sighed in relief.

He'd spent his whole life stealing—this was his first time giving things away.

No choice: the salt gang's boss had ordered it—if he didn't hand out every last item, he'd be whipped upon returning.

If someone looked from above, they'd see not just this street, but all across Chengdu, salt gang carts were wildly distributing blessing packages.

Large ships sat moored at the docks, flooding Chengdu with vast quantities of goods, then distributing them to every street.

These salt gang men were all low-ranking.

They didn't know why so much silver was being thrown away—but they knew their boss's order was absolute:

Make Chengdu lively.

Restore the festival spirit by tomorrow!

These goods were meant to calm the people's hearts.

The boss's words were easy to fool the common folk with—so long as they believed it didn't concern them and brought benefit, even if the sky fell, they'd just stand around watching.

Sure enough, as items were handed out, bold citizens began wandering the streets, noticing the soldiers didn't harass anyone, and the crowds slowly swelled.

This situation favored Li Yan's movements.

Yet his face had lost its smile; he turned and said coldly: "Send someone to fetch a package and bring it back."

The Wuxiang Prince understood at once, gave a signal, and an old man stepped out, feigning frailty, and returned with a sack of salt and a bundle of goods.

Splash!

Everything was dumped onto the table.

Li Yan formed the Yang Seal, pinched a handful of salt, and sniffed carefully…

Wang Daoxuan wrapped a cake in talisman paper, broke off a small piece, and put it in his mouth, tasting it with spiritual insight…

The Pi Men sorcerer used an egg to detect poison…

Finally, all of them shook their heads.

"Maybe we're overthinking this."

Sha Li Fei rubbed his bald head and chuckled: "The Prince of Shu isn't a fool—he'd dare poison the whole city? Doesn't he fear we'll spread the word and spark a mutiny?"

"Naive!"

The Wuxiang Prince sneered coldly. "These nobles will stop at nothing to achieve their goals—what are human lives to them?"

"When Huang Chao besieged Chenzhou and ran out of grain, his court sorcerer offered the 'Five Plague Children Array,' turning living flesh into army rations…"

"The chaos of the Tang's end may be distant—consider the previous dynasty: the Great Xing Army's general Ashu summoned northern shamans to torture three thousand captives to death, stripping their bones to forge 'human-skin demon drums'—and Jia Sidao's navy fled at the mere sight of the enemy…"

"In cruelty, they're more demonic than any evil sect!"

Li Yan nodded in agreement.

First, this was practically rebellion.

Second, Lu Sheng's identity—he'd deceived the First Emperor himself, triggering the "Burning of Books and Burying of Scholars"—how could he care about mortal lives?

"What do you think they're planning?"

Thinking of this, Li Yan asked outright.

The Wuxiang Prince scoffed: "I'm not a worm in the Prince of Shu's belly—how would I know?"

At that moment, a voice came from beside them.

"This Daoist has a guess."

The speaker was a Daoist in dark black robes, unremarkable in appearance, with an iron abacus hanging at his waist.

The Wuxiang Prince introduced him: "This is the Iron Abacus Daoist of the Jin Gate—expert in observing wind and qi, mysterious traps and weapons. He nearly joined Emei, but they judged by appearances, blind to gold disguised as stone."

"Your Grace flatters me."

The Daoist stroked his beard and spoke gravely: "The Prince of Shu's actions aim only to make Chengdu lively—likely to gather qi and incense. They're preparing for some ritual."

Wang Daoxuan nodded in approval: "Your words are wise!"

The Jin Gate had many charlatans, but also true oddities.

Seeing others agree, the Daoist unhooked his iron abacus and clacked it onto the table, fingers flying.

"You know this arcane art?"

Wang Daoxuan's eyes lit up.

Seeing Li Yan's curiosity, he explained: "This is the Abacus Yi Numerology. The abacus beam corresponds to Heaven, Earth, and Humanity; the beads embody Yin and Yang; the upper beads represent the Eight Trigrams, the lower beads count the Five Elements. It's hard to learn, harder to master—I've only heard of it."

Li Yan's expression turned grave.

Even in the Xuan Gate, those skilled in Yi Numerology were rare; Wang Daoxuan spent all day studying it, yet still found it harder than spellcraft.

Mastering it required innate talent.

The Iron Abacus Daoist seemed to enter a trance, fingers clacking as he muttered: "Jia Chen year not yet passed—'Wu shall not till land'; Yi Si year—'Geng shall not marry'…"

"In the Wu Yin month on the Geng Shen day—Geng metal is struck and damaged by Yin wood; Shen day clashes with the Grand Duke's Si fire; the fifteenth of the first month falls under the Wei Star; Yin and Si harm each other, drawing the White Tiger's evil spirit into the Central Palace…"

The more he calculated, the paler his face grew.

Finally, he stopped, drenched in cold sweat.

The Wuxiang Prince frowned: "What did you calculate, Daoist?"

The Iron Abacus slowly raised his head, swallowed hard:

"The fifteenth of the first month—great misfortune. Avoid incense. The gods are in peril…"

………………

"Sugar-coated haws! Sugar-coated haws!"

"The door gods from Qingyang Palace—get them now before they're gone!"

The Prince of Shu's plan had succeeded—the streets were clearly coming alive. In truth, the ones most anxious about this chaos were the merchants, who'd stockpiled goods all year waiting for a profitable New Year.

Especially the peddlers, who relied entirely on this season for their income—no matter how frugal the people, they spent more lavishly during the festival.

So they were the first to emerge, seizing the streets.

Seeing the patrol soldiers didn't harass anyone—even the street scoundrels and troublemakers had vanished—the people began streaming out with their families.

The New Year was still days away, and they hadn't bought enough yet.

Li Yan changed his attire, wrapped in a coarse, dusty cotton robe, wearing a fur hat, his face altered with makeup and a full beard.

Anyone seeing him would think him an ordinary commoner.

Combined with the Dragon-Snake Token's concealment, he was utterly hidden.

Hands tucked in his sleeves, he trudged through the snow, crunching softly, glancing left and right, taking it all in.

The Iron Abacus's calculation was correct.

Not a single error in any detail!

Wang Daoxuan used tortoise shells and copper coins for divination, and got the same result.

This matter surprised everyone.

Generally, the fifteenth day of the first month is an auspicious day; who could have expected problems this year?

Moreover, ordinary sorcerers lack mastery in numerology and can only see the surface, which is why this matter hasn't spread.

This year, the fifteenth day of the first month carries a taboo: no incense offerings to the gods.

According to Iron Abacus, on this year's fifteenth day of the first month, the White Tiger Fiend enters the palace; if mishandled, the incense smoke will turn into malevolent qi.

Ordinary people cannot sense it.

But for worldly deities, it is a major problem.

Qingyang Palace and the Shu Prince's Mansion both hold grand sacrificial ceremonies on the fifteenth day of the first month, and also host martial competitions.

Anyone can see something is amiss.

The Wuxiang Young Master 's people have already begun spreading rumors, starting in the jianghu, aiming to reduce the number of people present that day.

But to resolve this matter, the root must be cut.

Lu Sheng, who has taken root in the Shu Prince, must die!

Regaining military control is the top priority…

The Yuwang Temple lies in the north of the city, the Chengdu Prefectural Office in the west, and the Shu Prince's Mansion at the city's center—anyone passing through must inevitably pass nearby.

Li Yan walked forward, but as he neared the Shu Prince's Mansion, his heart sank and he turned around and left.

The street ahead had no pedestrians; garrison soldiers had set up checkpoints, all shops were closed, and marksmen were even hidden on rooftops.

Every street he passed was the same.

Li Yan had no choice but to take a detour.

It seemed the Shu Prince's Mansion was planning something; to uncover the truth, he would have to return and have Lu San's falcons scout.

When he arrived at the Chengdu Prefectural Office, it was nearly noon.

Today was a rare clear day—the snowstorm had ceased, the sky was bright, and the reflected light from the snow gave excellent visibility.

Compared to the East City, the West City was noticeably quieter.

Many prefectural offices were scattered here, and garrison soldiers setting up roadblocks grew more numerous; when civilians passed by, they hunched their necks and tiptoed warily along the walls.

Li Yan glanced at the figures on the distant rooftops, frowned slightly, and swiftly slipped into a dark alley.

Huh~

A cold wind swept through, and he vanished without a trace.

A faint footprint appeared atop the courtyard wall…

Using a concealment technique does not mean one can fly; even though Li Yan was nearly invisible, he could not avoid leaving footprints in the snow.

Others might overlook them, but not sorcerers.

Fortunately, nearby residents had already cleared the snow to the side, so Li Yan kept leaping over walls until he neared the Chengdu Prefectural Office.

From afar, Li Yan lowered his head.

The Chengdu Prefectural Office was likewise surrounded.

A force of several hundred garrison soldiers was spread across key routes, completely sealing off the entire office.

On the rooftops crouched many jianghu men.

These men were unfamiliar; only a few were sorcerers, clearly hired by the Salt Guild, newly arrived in the city.

The main gate of the Chengdu Prefectural Office was tightly shut, bearing marks from ramming logs; several disciples from the Beijing Bagua Sect stood with clasped fists at the entrance, coldly eyeing the opposite side.

Seeing this, Li Yan understood.

The Shu Prince's Mansion had already moved against the Chengdu Prefectural Office, yet had not rushed to kill the Censor—no one knew what plan they harbored.

Looking at the office so close at hand, Li Yan was troubled.

The snow on the streets had not been cleared; though footprints were scattered, if he passed through, he would surely be spotted.

Suddenly, a familiar voice spoke.

"Any business today?"

"No, Elder, none for now."

"Hmm…"

An old man walked over with several others, removed his pipe from his waist, squatted in the corner, and puffed smoke, his eyes filled with worry.

The old man was the village chief of Baixi Town, named Feng Laohai.

He had once been a Salt Guild Elder and the mentor of the current Salt Guild Master, but after ideological differences, he led his villagers into seclusion.

Li Yan had once received his aid in destroying the Worship Dragon Cult's secret hall.

Wasn't this old man trying to reclaim his position in the Salt Guild?

Then why is he back in the city aiding the tyrant…

Li Yan felt puzzled, studied the old man's eyes, then glanced at the distant Chengdu Prefectural Office, and slowly approached.

Feng Laohai was frowning as he smoked.

Suddenly, his pupils contracted.

On the snow before him, a line of characters had appeared:

Outside Baixi Town—was your vow real?

Feng Laohai immediately stood, kicked his foot to erase the words, tapped ash from his pipe, and spoke calmly: "Watch over things—I'm going to the latrine."

Saying this, he slipped into a nearby house.

The others, having stood guard all day and seeing no movement from the Prefectural Office, paid no mind and began chatting among themselves.

"Brother, you think the Shu Prince means to declare himself king?"

"Who knows?"

"I say, just rebel outright—the Salt Transport Commissioner keeps causing trouble; the court's bound to act. Better to rebel now—you might even be made a marquis or minister…"

"You're dreaming—look at yourself…"

They joked and laughed, but inside the house, tension hung thick.

After entering, Feng Laohai shut the door and turned, urgently asking: "Is it Elder Mobile Corps Commander, or Li Shaoxia?"

"It's me."

Li Yan had not broken his concealment technique and replied coldly: "You promised to sever ties with the Salt Guild—why are you entangled with them again?"

"I couldn't find an opening…"

Feng Laohai gave a bitter laugh and explained.

He had just contacted several old comrades when he discovered they had been bribed with large sums; he had no choice but to feign compliance and rejoin.

His status was too high for the Salt Guild Master to act against him directly, so he was assigned menial tasks.

"What's going on with the Chengdu Prefectural Office?"

Li Yan pressed further.

Feng Laohai glanced out the window and whispered: "That Censor Wang is a ruthless man—he's guarding the gunpowder storehouse with a torch, saying if the Shu Prince pressures him, he'll blow it all up."

"The Shu Prince wants that gunpowder, so they're at a standstill."

"I heard tonight, a master will break in and resolve the standoff…"

(End of Chapter)