Chapter 69: Caught Red-Handed

Staring at the hand reaching down from above, Xing hesitated. This clearly wasn't one of their own — it was one of the attackers.

The voice grew impatient: "If you don't come up, I'll seal the tomb shut and leave you down there keeping the dead company forever…"

As he spoke, the hand began to withdraw.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!"

Xing glanced at the dead man's hand bones he'd crushed underfoot on the floor and made his choice. He had no desire to stay in that gloomy tomb with the corpses. Whatever awaited above, at least they were living people.

He hastily jumped up, grabbed the man's hand, and immediately felt himself hauled upward by tremendous force…

Once Xing was pulled out of the outer coffin chamber, before he could even catch his breath and rejoice at being out alive, the scene before him froze him in shock.

Under the moonlight, the ground was a scene of utter devastation.

The one who had pulled him up was a dark-complexioned man in leather armor, a red headscarf, and a bloodied sharp sword in hand, looking him up and down.

There were two others besides: a young man scouring the ground for scattered arrows, and a lean, spear-wielding watchman in armor who kept a perpetually taut face, as if everyone owed him money, watching over the tomb robbers.

Xing's accomplices numbered five in total. Apart from the one lying on the ground, chest bleeding and motionless, the other four — including their leader Chang — were all tied up. And every one of them bore wounds: an arrow to the leg here, a sword slash across the back there…

Before Xing could figure out what had happened, someone immediately twisted his arms behind him!

"So it's just a little thief. Ha, you scared the hell out of me earlier."

The one pinning him down was none other than the "ghost" with the flared sideburns from before. He wore no armor, had two hand-axes tucked at his waist, and now found rope to tie Xing up as well.

The dark man beside them said, "He's just a young lad. Bao, don't hurt him."

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

As it turned out, the four who had ambushed the tomb robbers were none other than Hei Fu and his men from Huyang Watch!

An hour earlier, after leaving the watch station, they had headed southwest according to the location described by the Honorary Rank holder Quji.

Before reaching Zhaoyang Hamlet, they had cautiously extinguished their torches and crept silently toward this stretch of wilderness. Fortunately, the weather favored them — the mid-twelfth-month moon, nearly full, cast light in all directions, enough for them to find their bearings and make out the path ahead.

Once they drew near, it became even easier, for the torches the tomb robbers carried had long since betrayed their position from afar.

At Hei Fu's command, the group slowed their pace and crept closer. The tomb robbers were busy hauling grave goods out of the tomb, their guard lax, so Hei Fu signaled Xiao Tao to draw his bow. One arrow brought down the robber standing watch, and the other three rushed in together!

The robbers reacted quickly, snatching up weapons from the ground to fight back. The red-faced robber wearing the dead man's deep robe, in particular, immediately raised a crossbow and aimed it straight at Hei Fu!

The trigger snapped, and the bolt tore through the air. Hei Fu felt a tremendous force slam into the wooden shield in his hand — it nearly split apart…

"Good thing I brought armor and shield."

Having witnessed the crossbow's power firsthand, Hei Fu was deeply grateful. His arm numb, he abandoned the shield, stepped forward with his left hand raised, and thrust his sword at Chang, preventing him from firing again.

As Chang retreated to switch weapons, Hei Fu followed with a flying kick that sent him sprawling, then pressed his sword to the man's throat.

Seeing their leader down, the others put up a brief resistance before choosing to flee.

But the fastest runner was struck square in the back by a hand-axe hurled by Dongmen Bao and dropped dead on the spot…

The remaining three robbers were scared out of their wits. Stopped by Xiao Tao's bow and Li Xian's long spear, they could only fall to their knees and beg for mercy.

And so, in less than half a quarter-hour, Hei Fu and his men had captured every last tomb robber, with only Dongmen Bao suffering a minor injury.

"Aside from that red-faced leader, none of these men have had any real training. Otherwise it wouldn't have been so easy."

Hei Fu let out a breath, wiped the blood from his sword, sheathed it, and reflected: tomb robbers were tomb robbers, after all — their specialty was different. They were nowhere near as fierce as bandits who murdered and plundered for a living.

This way, they had caught the criminals red-handed with the goods, a substantial haul. Hei Fu was already counting the number of robbers, envisioning the rewards he might earn…

"It was Hei Fu's skillful command, having us strike by surprise, that made it so easy."

Dongmen Bao laughed heartily, lifted the youth Xing like a chicken, and tossed him over beside his accomplices. Then he eagerly walked to the pile of lacquerware and bronzes, lit a torch, and began inspecting them.

"So many fine things — I've never seen the like." He couldn't help running his hand over the exquisite lacquerware.

"Bao, let me say this upfront: all stolen goods must be handed over to the authorities. Don't get any crooked ideas."

Hei Fu sternly warned Dongmen Bao, at the same time casting a glance at Li Xian.

The Qin state held its officials to strict standards: taking even a single coin constituted the grave crime of bribery, and privately keeping stolen goods was even more unforgivable.

If anyone here grew greedy and secretly pocketed any of the goods, the others would share the same punishment by association if they failed to report it.

Truth be told, if Li Xian weren't present, the three close friends could have quietly stashed a little something without issue. But with Li Xian watching, and after the anonymous letter incident — though the man now fully acknowledged Hei Fu's superiority — Hei Fu still didn't entirely trust him.

Li Xian, unaware of Hei Fu's calculating thoughts, had Xiao Tao watch the tomb robbers while he himself walked over. He picked up the three-legged ding — round-mouthed, twin-handled, its surface covered in kui-dragon patterns — and examined it with a furrowed brow.

A ding was a vessel used in Western Zhou and Spring and Autumn times for boiling large cuts of cold pork. By the Warring States period, it had gradually become a ritual object, rarely used by commoners. Only nobles brought them out, alongside gui rice vessels, during feasts and sacrifices to display their ancient lineage and exalted status…

Generally speaking, according to the Rites of Zhou, the Son of Heaven used nine ding and eight gui; feudal lords, seven ding and six gui; grandees, five ding and four gui; and shi, three ding and two gui.

But by the Warring States era, rites had collapsed and music was corrupted. In the end, even the Zhou royal house was swept away by Qin, and those ancient Zhou rites were followed by no one. The kings of the Seven Warring States had long since adopted the carriages and ceremonies of the Son of Heaven, and the enfeoffed lords of each state openly styled themselves as feudal lords…

The ding before them was a marker of this tomb owner's noble status.

To be honest, in the eyes of someone like Hei Fu — a commoner and a nobody in both his past and present lives — so-called ritual vessels were nothing more than pots, bowls, and basins. A ding for boiling plain pork, a gui for holding millet. In a commoner's home, they'd be ordinary kitchenware; placed in a prince's or noble's house, they became lofty, exalted objects?

Was the difference between the two determined by bloodline?

Hei Fu scoffed at the notion. As a modern man, he held bloodline theory in utter contempt.

Yet the people of this era, though they had lived through the Warring States baptism of "prime ministers must rise from the provinces, fierce generals must emerge from the ranks," still clung to bloodline theory with deep conviction. The descendants of fallen nobility held their heads high, looking down on anyone of lowly birth.

Even those commoner heroes, once they achieved success and fame, would scramble to find themselves an ancestor of noble blood — some enfeoffed lord or earl scattered across the lands, some minister or grandee whose house had fallen into decline — as if without this, their success could not be justified.

In truth, this was already an era where ability outweighed bloodline. This was especially so in Qin, where even princes and royal grandsons could not obtain fiefs or official rank without earning merit.

"Constable, bring that torch closer…"

On the other side, Li Xian complained he couldn't make out the characters clearly. Dongmen Bao reluctantly walked over to provide light, stealing glances himself. He saw the back of the ding densely covered in engraved bronze script, yet it differed greatly from Qin's small seal script…

"Can you even read these ghost-scratch characters?" Dongmen Bao's head was spinning just looking at them.

"Not all of them, but I recognize a few. My family served as grandees of Chu decades ago, so when we made ancestral offerings, these Chu characters were on the spirit tablets…"

A trace of pride colored Li Xian's words. He spat on the ground, used his sleeve to wipe the dirt from the bronze ding, and upon closer inspection, his expression changed drastically. He let out a cry of shock!

"Ah!"

"What is it?" Hei Fu couldn't help walking over to ask.

"This ding was a ritual vessel the tomb owner used in life. Inscribed on it are the reasons for its casting, along with his clan lineage and official titles."

Li Xian pointed at the bronze ding, somewhat excited: "Chief, if I'm not mistaken, this is actually a tomb of the Ruo'ao clan! I never imagined that legend would turn out to be true!"

Li Xian cradled the bronze ding, sighing endlessly in admiration, but Heifu listened with a face full of bewilderment.

"The Ruo'ao clan — what's that?"

(End of chapter)