Chapter 161: Subduing the County Magistrate of Song

A roar of anger echoed through the sky: "How dare you!"

Over a dozen yamen runners, dressed in black uniforms with iron plaques at their waists and water-and-fire staves in hand, burst in with fierce momentum, led by a private secretary with a thick mustache who looked imposing, surrounding Jiang Mingyu and Tukesulu.

"Who are you? How dare you cause trouble here? Don't be arrogant—release the county magistrate at once, or I'll crush your skulls with this staff!"

This private secretary had just been transferred from the capital and, unaware of the situation, assumed Jiang Mingyu and his companions were troublemakers, rushing forward to stop them.

He saw only a young man in a white long robe, handsome-faced and elegant in bearing, and a burly man in black leather armor, rugged-featured and ferocious in aura, holding onto Song Yusheng—a man in red official robes, terrified and submissive—and mistook them for reckless fools trying to stir up chaos.

With his words, the dozen yamen runners, their faces grim, eyes cruel, brimming with murderous intent, raised their water-and-fire staves and prepared to strike Jiang Mingyu and Tukesulu.

Seeing their bluster, Jiang Mingyu—who had been about to teach Song Yusheng a lesson—glared, a cold gleam flashing in his eyes.

"Kill."

As the cold word fell, the blade in Tukesulu's hand surged violently.

He gripped a three-foot-long, two-inch-wide, razor-sharp, icy-cold great knife, and under Jiang Mingyu's command, charged at the yamen runners like a mad beast.

Tukesulu moved so fast the eye could barely follow—lithe as a jungle leopard, each motion precise and lethal. His blade carved streaks of cold light through the air, each one heralding a life extinguished.

After a few muffled sounds of flesh being cut, before anyone could react, the entire group—including the mustached private secretary—was already dead.

Tukesulu's swordplay was simple and brutal, devoid of any flourish or technique, possessing only the most direct and effective killing power.

Every slash targeted the vital point—neck, chest, or abdomen—any wound he dealt was fatal.

Thick, foul-smelling fluids sprayed everywhere as his blade danced.

Blood stained the ground and walls; severed limbs and organs lay scattered; screams and wails rose in waves.

The most horrifying sight was a short, fat, greasy-faced yamen runner who had his head cleanly sliced in half by Tukesulu's blade.

Half his skull flew through the air, twitching and spurting blood, rolling several times on the ground before stopping.

His mouth, moments ago spewing curses at Jiang Mingyu and his companion, froze in a mask of terror and agony.

Song Yusheng stared at the scene; his once-proud face turned deathly pale. Dressed in loose official robes, his phoenix eyes now brimmed with fear and despair. His body trembled, his face ashen, sweat drenching his scalp—he nearly pissed himself.

"Y-you... killing like this will cost you your life!" Song Yusheng trembled violently, face as white as paper.

Jiang Mingyu fixed him with a cold stare: "What more nonsense are you spouting? Hand over the official seal at once, or don't blame me for being uncivilized!" He turned to Tukesulu: "Send him to his end!"

His voice was icy, his gaze unfeeling, devoid of any emotion.

Tukesulu drew his long blade, its edge glinting with lethal chill.

Seeing Tukesulu's blood-slicked blade, Song Yusheng, already soaked in his own urine, collapsed to the ground.

He wanted to beg, but his throat refused sound. He wanted to fight, but his strength had vanished.

He could only watch helplessly as the blade drew nearer... nearer...

"I'll lend it! I'll lend it! Take it as long as you want!"

These few words seemed to drain every ounce of strength from his sweat-drenched body.

He had forgotten he was once a lofty, powerful, glorious, awe-inspiring official—now he remembered only that he was a pitiful, wretched, life-on-a-thread, laughable worm.

Shaking, Song Yusheng scrambled to his feet and, with the fastest speed of his life, placed the official seal on the table before Jiang Mingyu.

Jiang Mingyu took the seal with satisfaction and ordered Tukesulu: "Signal the army—let them enter the city and take control of the county garrison!"

Tukesulu nodded, sheathed his blood-smeared blade, unfastened a signal arrow from his waist, aimed it at the sky outside, and pulled the ring.

With a sharp explosion, a crimson arc streaked across the heavens—it was Jiang Mingyu's prearranged signal, meaning he had seized the seal.

The two thousand troops waiting outside immediately charged into the open, unprepared county town, shouting.

Dressed in black iron armor, wielding sharp blades, their murderous aura surged. They were Jiang Mingyu's elite soldiers, rigorously trained and battle-tested, loyal to him, willing to die for him.

Chickens flew, dogs barked, civilians scrambled to hide.

The two thousand troops surged into the Longteng County Garrison—the town's final defense, Song Yusheng's last hope. He had counted on the garrison to hold off Jiang Mingyu, buying him time to escape.

But his hope shattered instantly. Seeing the murderous Shangmu troops, the fewer than three hundred garrison soldiers of Longteng immediately raised their blades and charged.

Though clad in uniforms, they lacked soldierly spirit.

Though armed, they lacked battle will.

Though entrusted with duty, they lacked loyalty.

They were nothing but a band of corrupt, pleasure-seeking, extortionate peace-time soldiers.

They had never faced real war or true enemies.

Facing the Shangmu charge, they had no chance to resist—only to be slaughtered.

Half an incense stick later, the Longteng Garrison was a sea of blood. Corpses littered the ground, the earth soaked crimson. Shangmu soldiers raised their weapons, cheering victory. Jiang Mingyu arrived shortly after, gazing at the crimson ground, expressionless, and spoke to Song Yusheng.

"Song County Magistrate, you've governed Longteng County quite well these past years." His voice was flat, as if speaking of something trivial.

"You've shown initiative by surrendering the seal." His tone carried a hint of mockery.

"My meaning is this: you shall remain as county magistrate here. Will you cooperate with me, a rebel?"

Jiang Mingyu, lacking any personnel of his own for such tasks, had considered every option—this was the only one left. He needed a puppet to control the people and officials, working behind the scenes for him. Song Yusheng was weak, foolish, pitiful, and laughable—but the most suitable candidate.

Staring at the corpses strewn about, nearly terrified to death, Song Yusheng nodded frantically.

"I agree, I agree..."

He had no doubt that if he shook his head now, he would become a cold corpse in an instant.

Jiang Mingyu's lips curled slightly upward, a hint of satisfaction.

"Very well. I'll temporarily entrust Longteng County to you. But my two thousand troops will remain in the city, watching you closely—don't dare make any move."

He narrowed his eyes slightly, his tone growing stern: "Understood?"

In the cold wind, sweat coated Song Yusheng's face.

He immediately knelt, suppressing his terror: "Your servant dares not overstep. Even if granted ten thousand boldness, I would never dare transgress." Seeing Jiang Mingyu's expression soften, Song Yusheng bowed deeply: "My lord, allow your servant Song Yusheng to kowtow in loyalty."

My lord—Jiang Mingyu's lips curled. The title pleased him.

He put on a smile and spoke to the kneeling, head-bowed Song Yusheng: "But if you serve diligently, I shall reward you. How exactly to proceed—you may decide for yourself."

After this mix of persuasion and threat, Song Yusheng's emotions had been shattered—he was completely subdued.

Seeing Longteng secured, Tukesulu asked: "My lord, what is our next move?"

Song Yusheng, seeing Tukesulu's true nature for the first time, shuddered.

But meeting Tukesulu's watchful gaze, he quickly suppressed his contempt, sat quickly on a chair, and replied respectfully.

Jiang Mingyu sat comfortably, turning to the bowed Song Yusheng: "Song Yusheng, I recall Longteng County is the birthplace of the Great Feng Empire, correct?" That was precisely why he had once been able to sell hundreds of thousands of catties of coal to Song Yusheng.

Song Yusheng stepped forward, bowing deeply: "My lord has an excellent memory. Fifty li east of the county's eastern gate lies Longyang Town, where the founding emperor of the Great Feng Empire rose to power. Today, Longyang Town not only houses the ancestral tomb of the current emperor, but also garrisons five hundred tomb-guard soldiers. Since the founding of the Great Feng Empire, the founding emperor forbade all county residents from cutting trees, fearing disturbance of the dragon veins. Had it not been for this, your servant would never have met you in those days." He added a sycophantic smile.

Tukesulu, face dark, ignored Song Yusheng's flattery and frowned at Jiang Mingyu: "Brother, why ask about this? Fei Hou is your mortal enemy—do you plan to burn candles and offer flowers at his ancestor's grave?"

Jiang Mingyu gave a cryptic smile, glanced around, then spoke low: "Why not go? Tukesulu, take three hundred men with me. Song Yusheng, lead the way—we're going to Longyang Town now."

Tukesulu, still puzzled, frowned and asked: "My lord, what exactly are you planning?"

Jiang Mingyu patted his shoulder and grinned with reckless amusement: "I'm going to level Fei Hou's ancestral tomb myself."