Chapter 947

A detachment of about a hundred soldiers escorted several carts to the entrance of an ancient, dilapidated county town. At that moment, the curtain of one cart opened, revealing a plump, pale official gazing ahead—he saw two large characters carved on the city gate: Ye County. The characters were long faded; the character “Ye” was missing two dots.

The man sighed and said, “Has it fallen into such ruin?”

The convoy then entered the town and headed straight for the county government office, where they completed the handover with the current county magistrate.

As soon as the paperwork was finished, before the former magistrate had even left town, the pale-faced official summoned the assistant magistrate, the private secretary, the head constable, and the county captain, asking, “The rebel Liu Heihu’s forces are growing strong, claiming a million men. What strategies do you propose?”

The junior officials all assured him it was no concern—the rebel army was still far away, and besides, this prefecture had suffered disasters for years, leaving nine out of ten homes empty; the rebels would have no grain either, so what would they do if they came but starve to death?

But the pale-faced county magistrate shook his head. “The main force may not come, but I suspect they’ll send light cavalry to sweep the countryside—and we can’t possibly resist them. We must prepare early and gather military funds and grain supplies.”

The junior officials understood clearly: this Official Yu was already beginning to extort the people the moment he took office. And judging by his tone, he likely planned to abandon the county the moment the rebels arrived.

According to Tang law, local officials were responsible for defending their territory; abandoning it and fleeing meant immediate execution. But over time, Tang law had grown lax, and many officials had devised ways around it.

Yet the junior officials had their own survival tactics: if the superior wanted to plunder, let him go—it wouldn’t touch them. If he extracted ten taels, wouldn’t he have to hand out one or two to his subordinates? As for the common folk’s fate—who cared?

The private secretary immediately presented the list of the county’s wealthy households, saying the people were utterly destitute, with no food even for the next day; the only wealth remained in the mansions of the rich.

The magistrate opened the list and saw the first name written: Wei Youcai.

He looked further: Wei Youcai, age sixty-one, no sons. Property includes two residences and nineteen hundred mu of land, with one hundred twenty armed retainers… total assets estimated at eleven thousand taels of silver.

The second page was Liu Shounu, the third was Jia Tianci…

After reading, the magistrate smiled and said, “Before I took office, someone advised me that upon arrival I must first demand the Book of the King of Hell. This one—is it the so-called Book of the King of Hell?”

The private secretary stroked his mouse-like whiskers and chuckled, “Precisely! The King of Hell claims a man’s life at the third watch—who dares keep him alive until the fifth? Once named in this book, when they die is entirely up to you, my lord.”

The magistrate patted the list and asked, “Are there no relatives of important figures missing from this list?”

“In this backwater, where would there be relatives of important people?”

The magistrate nodded, then smiled, “Wei Youcai has such vast wealth—how come he has no descendants? Won’t it all end up in someone else’s hands?”

“He’s naturally barren, never adopted a child. Over the years, many have tried to claim kinship. But though he appears wealthy, it’s all land and houses—he gives away porridge yearly to help the villagers; he likely has little cash.”

The county captain snorted, “Adopted children aren’t blood! That’s a difference of ten thousand miles! If I were Wei Youcai, I’d spend every last copper rather than give a single coin to an adopted heir!”

The magistrate paused, then said, “My predecessor was generous—he left me a few things… yes, about a hundred retainers. A bit troublesome.”

The county captain’s eyes flashed with malice. “Just country bumpkins in armor. Once real imperial troops arrive, they’ll be crushed instantly! I have five hundred militia under me—we can clear the whole region. My lord, just give the order: shall we pose as soldiers or bandits?”

The magistrate laughed. “Why pretend to be soldiers? You’ve been pardoned so long—how can you still act like a bandit? This time, we’ll leave town under the guise of training. Once beyond the walls, we change clothes, then…”

The magistrate made a slashing motion across his throat. The county captain understood perfectly.

One day later, five hundred militiamen left the town, a disorganized group heading toward the countryside. Though called five hundred, when counted, they numbered fewer than three hundred. Still, as the county’s only show of force, their armor was barely intact.

Along the way, the county captain saw collapsed houses, abandoned fields, nine out of ten homes empty, and even the main road overgrown with weeds, impassable for carts. He shook his head and sighed, “Taxed this heavily in this hellhole? Even heaven’s own son couldn’t survive.”

Several subordinate officers nodded in agreement.

After half a day’s march, the column entered the mountains. The county captain glanced left and right and said, “Stay alert—these hills are perfect for ambushes! Back when I met Master Zhuang, I loved hiding here to ambush wealthy merchants…”

The subordinate officers pretended not to hear.

At that moment, voices erupted from the nearby peak—dozens of heads appeared. Among the ragged bandits was a sly, monkey-faced man, grotesque in appearance, yet dressed as a scholar.

He looked down at the imperial troops and shouted, “If these flesh-eating devils reach the villages, how many will die? Since we’re all doomed anyway, join me in rebellion!”

Beside him, a towering, iron-clad giant trembled slightly: “They say the Ji Kingdom has immortals—wouldn’t an immortal crush us like ants?”