Chapter 63: The Brocade Uniform Guard

Inside the Reward and Tribute Hall at the southeast corner of Zhangjiakou Fort, Li Deli, Guard Commander of the Wanquan Right Guard Station, was leisurely sipping tea while listening to the report of Qian Renyuan, a clerk from the Tax Office.

Although Li Deli was the Guard Commander of the Wanquan Right Guard Station, his home was settled within Zhangjiakou Fort—a large residence of five courtyards and three halls located not far behind the official hall. His neighbor was the compound of Zhang Yong, Guard Commander of the Wanquan Left Guard Station. Since both men came from families that had held their posts hereditarily for generations, their relationship was close, and they interacted frequently, sharing news freely whether it concerned official matters or anything else. The taxation and trade affairs of Zhangjiakou Fort were managed by the two of them in rotation.

Qian Renyuan held up the account book of this month's completed taxes and summarized for Li Deli: "At the end of the fourth month of the ninth year of Chongzhen, the merchants within the fort paid a total of one thousand four hundred sixty-three taels in taxes, of which eight hundred fifty taels were paid in kind and six hundred thirteen taels in converted silver. All tax silver has been deposited in the treasury. Please inspect it, Your Honor!"

Li Deli set down his teacup, stretched lazily, and laughed: "Inspect my ass—what, you think I don't trust you? You've been in the Tax Office for over a decade, your personal worth must be ten times this month's tax take, right? Fine, just leave it in the treasury, and at the start of next month send someone to deliver it to the Governor's office in Xuanfu!"

Qian Renyuan smiled obsequiously: "Oh, what are you saying, Your Honor? We underlings are just following along to sip the broth—and even that broth is something Your Honor, in your consideration for your subordinates, deigned to share with us. In our daily conversations, my colleagues and I are endlessly grateful to you and to Lord Zhang!"

Li Deli waved his hand and laughed: "Enough, enough. I am merely doing my duty for the court. My family has guarded the frontier for the court for generations—how many generations have we been stuck in this godforsaken place? It is only through loyalty and righteousness that we have held on. You minor clerks have it hard too, and I have always felt that only when one takes care of his own affairs can he serve the court better. As long as the big matters aren't neglected, everything else is a minor detail—just don't overdo it!"

Qian Renyuan cursed inwardly: "You're a guard station commander—anywhere else you'd be scratching dirt for a living, but here you're richer than a Prefect of a prosperous prefecture. And you talk about loyalty and righteousness—the thing you're loyal to is silver!"

But aloud he flattered continuously: "Who doesn't know of Your Honor's loyalty and righteousness? It is only under Your Honor's governance that a small place like Zhangjiakou Fort has become so prosperous. We underlings are filled with admiration!"

Li Deli rose, preparing to go to Zhang Yong's house. The two had agreed to hold a no-veils gathering today—Zhang Meng had purchased several women of exquisite beauty and talent from the brothels of Xuanfu, and Li Deli had not yet seen them. At the thought of the pleasure to come, his heart itched like a cat scratching at it. He walked as he spoke: "I still have official business to attend to. You all do your duties well and don't be lazy. If anything comes up, I will send someone to inform you. That is all!"

At that moment, a crowd suddenly surged through the main gate of the Reward and Tribute Hall. At its head was a middle-aged man wearing an embroidered robe of blue-green silk, a girdle with a phoenix-patterned belt at his waist, a Brocade Spring Saber at his side, and a clear, open countenance. Behind him were a group of officers in blue surcoats with sabers hanging at their waists.

Li Deli was startled for a moment, then shouted: "Who are you people, daring to barge into an official hall? Withdraw at once!"

Qian Renyuan stepped forward a few paces, pointed at the man, and shouted: "Whose subordinates are you? Have you eaten leopard gall? Get out this instant! This is not a military camp! Careful—I'll go to Assistant Regional Commander Zhang and file a complaint against you, and you'll find yourselves in more trouble than you can handle!"

The man smiled slightly and said: "Slap his mouth!"

Several officers rushed forward. Before Qian Renyuan could react, two circled behind him and twisted his arms back, while another kicked him in the back of the knee. Qian Renyuan's knees buckled, and with a thud he collapsed to the ground. The officer in front swung his palm in a full arc and began slapping his mouth. Crack, crack—more than a dozen times. Blood sprayed from Qian Renyuan's mouth and nose, stars swam before his eyes, his ears rang, both cheeks swelled instantly, and he was dizzy and dazed, unable to speak.

Li Deli was both shocked and enraged. In all these years, someone had actually dared to humiliate his subordinate to his face. He roared: "Guards! Someone is rebelling!"

The man smiled and drew a warrant from his sleeve, waving it in front of him, and said: "Stop shouting—those useless fellows at the gate were tied up long ago! Li Deli, is it? See this? A warrant from the Office of Scrutiny for Criminal Cases, with the official seal. Now you know who we are, don't you?"

Li Deli's face suddenly turned ashen. The man's accent and manner reminded him of a terrifying place from legend!

Sweat poured from his body like syrup, his limbs went weak, and he trembled all over like a leaf in the wind.

The man continued with a smile: "I am Zuo Jinzhong, Chiliarch of the Western City Chiliarchy of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. By order of His Majesty, I have come to Xuanfu on official business. Guard Commander Li, your case has broken!"

In the rear garden of the residence of Zhang Yong, Guard Commander of the Wanquan Left Guard Station, a flower pavilion with all its doors and windows thrown open was cool and pleasant. Zhang Yong sat barefoot with his belly exposed, wearing only a pair of calf-nose shorts, lounging askew on a soft couch. Before him on a low table were fine wines and delicacies. Two beautiful women clad only in thin gauze nestled in his arms. One woman held up a wine cup to his lips, and Zhang Yong pinched the protrusion on her chest. The woman's body trembled, and she let out a coquettish moan. Zhang Yong laughed heartily, reached out to take the cup, and drained it in one gulp. The woman, overcome with shyness, murmured softly: "Master, you're so naughty!"

Zhang Yong leered: "You'll taste how good your master is soon enough!"

The other woman took the cup and set it down, then picked up a bite of food with her chopsticks and brought it to his lips, giggling: "Master, eat more. This slave fears Master will run out of strength later—this slave is afraid she won't get her fill!"

Zhang Yong chuckled: "You two little vixens—once Old Li arrives, the lot of us will play together, and I guarantee you'll get your fill! Hahaha!"

Seeing that noon had already passed and Li Deli still had not arrived, Zhang Yong's lust surged. Not caring when his good brother might show up, he tore off his calf-nose shorts, pulled one woman onto his lap, and began ripping at her gauze garment. The woman feigned shyness, covering her gauze with her hand and teasing him deliberately. Zhang Yong's nostrils flared, coarse breaths puffing out continuously, his eyes wide as he strained with both hands to tear apart her thin gauze.

"Clap, clap, clap, clap"—a burst of applause suddenly rang out. Zhang Yong's excitement was abruptly interrupted, and rage flared within him. He shoved the woman aside, sprang to his feet, and looked toward the source of the sound. There stood a man in his twenties, wearing a small cap of coiled palm fiber, a green surcoat, and a saber at his waist, grinning as he stood at the front entrance of the flower pavilion, with two officers wearing envious expressions flanking him left and right.

Zhang Yong was startled. He had never seen this style of dress before, nor did he know which yamen it belonged to. The two beauties screamed in fright and huddled together behind Zhang Yong.

Zhang Yong had been on the battlefield in his younger days. He snatched up his calf-nose shorts and dressed quickly, then clasped his hands in a salute toward the young man and said: "May I ask where this honored guest has come from? Why have you barged into my residence without permission?"

The young man walked forward slowly, stopping a few paces before Zhang Yong, and asked: "Zhang Yong, Guard Commander of the Wanquan Left Guard Station, Lord Zhang?"

Zhang Yong, hearing how courteous he spoke, felt his tension ease somewhat. He gave a humph and said: "I am Zhang. Who are you?"

The man smiled: "I am Wang Shiqin, Centurion of the Western City Chiliarchy of the Embroidered Uniform Guard. By imperial decree I have come to arrest you and take you to the capital. It seems I have interrupted your good time today, Lord Zhang. Go to the front courtyard, find some clothes to put on, and let us be on our way!"

Zhang Yong's face instantly turned waxy yellow. His mouth went dry, his mind went blank, and it was a long while before he recovered his senses. His eyes darted about wildly as his thoughts raced, searching for a way to escape.

Seeing this, Wang Shiqin sneered: "Lord Zhang, don't refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit. I hear you've been on the battlefield—surely you're not thinking of fighting it out with us?"

The two officers drew their sabers from their sheaths with a clang, stepped forward, and pointed their long, slender Brocade Spring Sabers at Zhang Yong.

At these words, Zhang Yong deflated like a punctured ball. It was true he had been on the battlefield—but that had been leading five hundred cavalry against a few dozen armed herdsmen. Even with overwhelming superiority, he had not dared to charge into the fight himself, though the credit afterward had all been his.

Wang Shiqin gave a light shout: "Bind him!"

The two officers stepped up to Zhang Yong. One held his saber in guard while the other sheathed his blade, drew out a cowhide rope from his bosom, and swiftly bound Zhang Yong's arms behind his back, trussing him up tightly in short order. Zhang Yong had not the slightest thought of resistance, standing like a log as the officers disposed of him. Seeing Zhang Yong submit, Wang Shiqin glanced at the two women cowering like quails and said softly: "You two get dressed and go to the front courtyard to await disposition."

The two women began to cry in fright. Wang Shiqin frowned: "As long as your involvement in Zhang Yong's affairs is not deep, the authorities will naturally deal with you leniently. What are you crying about?"

Zhang Yong, who had been dead in his heart, suddenly spoke: "My affairs have nothing to do with them. I just spent two thousand taels of silver to buy them a few days ago—they know nothing!"

Wang Shiqin gave Zhang Yong a look of approval and sighed: "You are a man of responsibility, after all. A pity!"