Chapter 71: Interrogation

The northern Liao light arrows are three feet long and weigh one jin, with a conical arrowhead fused to the shaft. The heavy arrows are four feet long, with a three-pronged tip bearing serrations, and weigh ten jin. There are also armor-piercing heavy arrows, similarly three-pronged but without serrations, weighing fifteen jin. Finally, there are the Wind-Blade arrows—the only magical arrows—each scout carries only one. When activated, such an arrow can fly five hundred zhang; beyond that distance, its power equals that of an armor-piercing heavy arrow.

Ordinary Liao cavalry possess only enough spiritual power to activate a Wind-Blade arrow once, so these arrows are pre-charged with spiritual energy before use. Though, by the standards of the Tai Chu Palace, the Wind-Blade arrows are crude, disposable magical artifacts, their presence means every Liao rider effectively possesses a single magical strike.

Wei Yuan finally picked up the bow and tested its draw. The Liao bow was extremely heavy, weighing dozens of jin, with dual strings. Most Han border troops could not fully draw the Liao bow; ordinary soldiers struggled even to open it.

Even with Wei Yuan’s formidable physical strength, fully drawing the bow required noticeable effort—he estimated it took roughly twelve hundred jin of force to draw it completely.

After personally examining the Liao weapons, Wei Yuan understood how difficult it was to resist the barbarians. Without Fang Hetong as commander, just two or three Liao cavalry could have slaughtered all three hundred farmers without mercy.

Wei Yuan suddenly turned and saw several men emerge with axes, chopping off the heads of the fallen Liao riders one by one. The Hanhai Liao had sturdy, thick bones; these men swung their axes with full force and needed ten or more strikes to sever the neck and detach each head.

“What are you doing?” Wei Yuan asked.

One of the men replied, “Liao barbarian heads can be exchanged for bounties in town—one head gets you one tael of silver!”

The Tai Chu Palace’s pre-battle intelligence clearly stated: killing one Liao rider earned one merit point, a squad leader twenty, and a hundred-man commander two hundred. One merit point could be exchanged for ten taels of immortal silver, and typically one tael of immortal silver equaled one hundred taels of common silver—though this was approximate. In practice, exchanging common silver for immortal silver was nearly impossible, so one often received even more silver in return.

Aside from Wei Yuan and his own disciples, anyone on the two-commandery battlefield could exchange Liao barbarian heads for immortal silver at the Tai Chu Palace or other sects; county magistrates, assistant regional commanders, and captains could do so as well. The men of Shayang Village sold their heads to the county at one tael per head; the county magistrate could then exchange each head at the Tai Chu Palace or another sect for ten taels of immortal silver, which he could then convert into common silver—netting at least a thousand taels per head.

“Did you always exchange them this way?” Wei Yuan asked.

The man said, “Of course. Barbarian heads are useless—no one but the county magistrate will take them. We’re not barbarians; we don’t eat Liao flesh. Master Fang said you can’t eat anything that’s taken human form or possesses wisdom. Master Fang is always right. Fortunately, the magistrate is merciful and accepts these useless heads. We’ve already exchanged over ten taels of silver this way; without that money to buy grain, we’d have starved long ago. Master Fang is kind—he sold his land and property, but he had little money himself; the proceeds from the land were all spent within the first month.”

Wei Yuan found Fang Hetong and asked, “You’ve been selling all the Liao heads to the county office? Didn’t you know each head can be exchanged for ten taels of immortal silver at the Tai Chu Palace? A squad leader’s head is worth two hundred taels.”

“Ten taels! Immortal silver?!” Fang Hetong’s eyes widened in shock.

Over the past few months, he had fought bloody battles against the northern Liao, sustaining over ten wounds and three serious ones. Once, he nearly died; had he not still possessed the last two life-saving immortal pills given to him by the academy’s headmaster, he would have been a skeleton a month ago.

After such immense sacrifice, Fang Hetong had slain only a dozen Liao riders and wounded dozens more, then exchanged their heads for a few dozen taels of silver, plus a little extra from selling broken weapons and gear—barely enough to survive. He and hundreds of men lived by carrying heads by day and counting grains by night. And now Wei Yuan said one head could be exchanged for ten taels of immortal silver? That was a thousand taels of common silver!

In just three months, the officials had collected nearly twenty thousand taels from Shayang Village alone, while those fighting on the front lines starved.

“I didn’t know! Had I known…” Fang Hetong’s grief and rage could no longer be contained.

He was merely stubborn, like a scholar—not foolish. Hearing Wei Yuan’s words, he immediately realized the county office had suppressed the truth, hoarding the immortal sect’s bounty for themselves. These officials were greedily corrupt, leaving not even a crumb. Had they given even three or five taels per head, those seven or eight elders wouldn’t have starved to death.

Wei Yuan patted Fang Hetong’s shoulder and said, “I’ll handle these heads. Don’t worry—I won’t deduct a single tael. Do you want immortal silver, or something else?”

“Younger brother, you should keep some for yourself—after all, most of these heads are yours. We were all farmers; we only wanted to drive out the Liao barbarians and live in peace. After the war, we’ll return to farming. When this is over, I’ll find a way to buy back our land. We have enough to eat at home; I’ll return to the academy to teach. We don’t need much silver—just a little more for the families of the fallen. A few hundred taels total will be enough!”

“We’ll deal with post-war matters later. Tomorrow, I’ll go to the county office and ask about your grain rations and pay.” Tonight’s bloodshed had left a faint edge of killing intent in Wei Yuan’s voice.

The Tai Chu Palace stood far above, claiming non-interference in Western Jin’s civil affairs—but border defense was a matter of life and death, and it could not allow local officials to act recklessly. If a registered core disciple like Wei Yuan had solid evidence, he could execute unranked clerks first and report later. That meant, aside from the chief clerk, assistant magistrate, captain, and a handful of others—perhaps six or seven men—Wei Yuan could find an excuse to execute everyone else in the county office.

If a True Person had proof, he could execute the county magistrate. If a True Sovereign was enraged, the commandery governor would lose his head.

The next morning, Wei Yuan’s vision stretched eighty li. Beyond that, the sand stretched yellow and hazy, indistinct. Such extreme range indicated the Liao barbarians were not active nearby. Wei Yuan gave Fang Hetong his signal arrow, instructing him to fire it at the first sign of danger, then set out for the county seat. This was a special Tai Chu Palace signal arrow; when fired into the air, it could be sensed up to a hundred li away. If the northern Liao attacked while he was away, Fang Hetong could fire the arrow into the sky, and Wei Yuan would immediately know.

Quyang County was desolate. The streets were empty; the few passersby hurried along. Many homes stood abandoned—the Liao had launched a massive southern invasion, and anyone with connections had fled this land of death.

Wei Yuan walked straight down the main road and soon reached the county office. After announcing his identity, the government office runner led him to a side room to wait. After about the time it took to drink a cup of tea, an official finally arrived, tardy and slow.

PS: Tomorrow I’ll try to add an extra chapter.

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(End of Chapter)