Chapter 48: The Fame of He Dachuan and Li Goudan

Shangmu County, He Family Mansion.

Before the towering vermilion-painted gate of the He Family Mansion stood a pair of stone lions taller than a man, their ferocious expressions as if issuing a challenge.

Passing through the vermilion gate arch, one was met by a vast courtyard, large enough to accommodate roughly ten dwellings.

The courtyard floor was not dirt, but expensive red bricks imported from the distant south.

Around the courtyard grew rare imperial garden trees and flowers, still faintly green even in winter.

White stone steps led to a three-story mansion, each window frame carved with exquisite floral and avian patterns.

In comparison, Shangmu County seemed another world entirely.

The streets were narrow and filthy, the houses old and shabby.

Everywhere were signs of long-patched repairs: moss crawled along corners, doorframes peeled of paint.

Passersby wore tattered clothes and bore dull expressions.

The entire county was shrouded in a gloomy, gray hue, starkly different from the golden splendor of the He Family.

Beyond the He Family’s towering walls, it was as if the boundary between two worlds lay.

At this moment, He Dachuan’s liver-colored face was twisted with ugly wrinkles, like a dried pig’s kidney left under the scorching sun, radiating anger and irritation.

“Hey! Hurry up and bring tea! Can’t you even see what’s needed? You’re all useless waste!”

He had just been thoroughly humiliated by Jiang Mingyu at the county yamen, and his temper was already foul.

Back home, he had barely grunted as he sat on a hardwood chair, venting his frustration by cursing his servants.

Just as he was berating them for failing to serve tea, He Muchen—nose swollen, face bruised and battered—was dragged in by several retainers.

He Muchen limped to He Dachuan’s side, snot and tears smeared across his face.

He sobbed to He Dachuan about the misfortune he had just suffered.

With a face full of grievance, he sniffled: “Father, I was beaten without cause on the street by two thugs—you must avenge me!”

His watery eyes welled up with grievance and accusation, like a bullied piglet wailing to its master.

After hearing He Muchen’s lament, He Dachuan’s face darkened further.

His brows knotted, eyes widened, veins bulged—his furious, humiliated expression like a storm cloud blotting out the sun, terrifyingly grim.

He Dachuan glared: “Who dares lay hands on my son?! Tell me, what did they look like?”

He Muchen wiped his snot and tears on his sleeve, choking out: “One looked like a frail scholar, the other a burly brute. I told them I’m your son—they didn’t spare me, beat me even harder!”

He Dachuan flew into a rage, fire blazing in his eyes, shouting: “How dare they?! Even after you said you’re my son, they still beat you?!”

He Muchen, eyes brimming with tears, pleaded: “Yes, yes! They’re openly disrespected you, Father—you must avenge me! Break their dog legs!”

He Dachuan exploded: “How dare you insult me, He Dachuan? I’ll break their dog legs and make them feel the might of He Dachuan!”

He Dachuan’s coarse brows tightened in fury. He gritted his teeth: “Chen’er, stay home and rest. I’ll kill those two blind fools—and bring that girl to you, let her serve you well.”

He Muchen shook his head, a cold glint flashing in his eyes: “No, Father—I must watch you kill them myself!”

Though reluctant, He Dachuan, spoiled by his son, nodded in agreement.

Over thirty retainers silently gathered, their expressions grim, as if facing a great trial.

He Dachuan’s face was dark, brows locked, silent—he waved his hand, signaling departure.

This sudden display drew the curiosity of passersby.

They whispered among themselves, trying to guess He Dachuan’s intent.

Someone muttered: “Look—what’s He Lao Ye up to now?”

Another frowned: “Last time the He Family made such a commotion was when outsiders came—could there be another enemy?”

Many were puzzled: “Enough guessing—follow them. We’ll find out soon enough.”

“...”

Seeing He Dachuan’s icy expression, and his son He Muchen, carried by others, face bruised purple, blood still drying,

The crowd’s curiosity deepened, their murmurs growing louder.

People began speculating whether this gathering was linked to He Muchen’s injuries.

Though their guesses revealed nothing true, under He Dachuan’s chilling aura, an unusual tension filled the air.

Citizens walking the street unconsciously quickened their pace, a quiet unease rising within them.

As more onlookers gathered, the freshly beaten He Muchen growled at He Dachuan: “Father, don’t hold back—make them bleed where they stand!”

He Muchen suddenly worried: “Father, they’re strong—especially that brute. He knocked down my men in seconds. Do we have enough men?”

His fear clearly stemmed from psychological trauma inflicted by Tukesiluo.

He Dachuan’s face was cold, voice icy: “Who dares hurt my son? None of them will leave alive today!”

He Dachuan, frost-laden, said: “Don’t worry—we brought our best. Twenty men could handle them.”

He Dachuan, face cold: “Who dares hurt my son? None of them will leave alive today!”

Seeing vengeance near, He Muchen changed his mind: “Father, don’t just kill them—make the leader suffer unbearably!”

“I saw it—he’s interested in that girl.”

“After you kill the brute, bring the leader back to the mansion—I’ll make that girl serve me right before his eyes.”

“Let him watch her beg on my lap—that sight alone would please me. I’ll make him wish for death but never find it.”

He Dachuan didn’t blink: “Fine. Whatever pleases you, I’ll do.”

He Dachuan waved his hand: “Hurry—don’t let them escape!”

Jiang Mingyu didn’t flee—he stood calmly by the roadside, waiting for the He father and son to appear.

Tukesiluo sheathed his sword and sneered: “Your Excellency, I wonder how delighted He Dachuan’s face will look when he sees you?”

He lowered his voice, careful not to let the woman hear: “That pig, He Muchen—if he knew you were the Imperial Envoy, he’d better bash his head against a wall right now!”

Jiang Mingyu had repeatedly urged the woman to leave, but she, worried for his safety, refused to go.

Jiang Mingyu’s lips curled in a cold smile: “I’d prefer they die of fright—let this pair of oppressors vanish from Shangmu County forever.”

At that moment, Tukesiluo’s ears twitched sharply, and he whispered to Jiang Mingyu: “Your Excellency—they’re coming.”

Before the Shangmu County yamen, crowds surged, noise thick.

Li Goudan paced anxiously at the gate, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Sister, why won’t you believe me? The Official isn’t here.”

He’d only been in office a few days, and already faced such a thorny matter—he was nearly bursting with tension.

Seeing Jiang Mingyu, the official who had worked tirelessly for the people, suddenly accused of murder, Li Goudan nearly dropped his jaw.

He had no idea what to do—still paralyzed—when the tattered widow spoke again.

“What are you standing there for? Make Jiang Mingyu, the murderer, come out! Don’t think hiding will make this go away. My husband died because of him—if you don’t give me justice today, I’ll go to the capital and petition the Emperor!”

The ragged woman’s eyes burned red, tears of venom swirling in them as she shrieked.

“I don’t believe it—this great Da Feng Empire has no place for justice?”

Li Goudan rubbed his temples helplessly, realizing he was trapped between rock and hard place.

“What justice do you seek?”

At that moment, the woman slowly spoke four icy words: “Life for a life.”

Her tone was like a blade of frost—each word sharp, her overwhelming grief nearly freezing everyone present.

The crowd, crushed by her intensity, erupted into chaotic murmurs.

“What’s going on here?”

“You ask me? I ask who? Her story sounds plausible.”

“Without coal, we’d all freeze to death—this Official’s been a rare good man. I’d never believe he killed anyone.”

“Brother, don’t speak too soon. Hearts are hidden—how do we know what kind of man Jiang Da Ren really is?”

“...”

Li Goudan’s head throbbed. He pleaded: “Sister, explain clearly—only then can I report to the Official.”

The woman’s eyes burned red, voice shrill: “What’s going on? You ask what’s going on?”

“Jiang Mingyu told us to burn coal at home for warmth, swore it wouldn’t poison us. My husband followed his advice, burned coal inside—when I returned, he was dead!”

Her eyes flooded with tears: “Neighbor Zhao the Physician examined him and said outright: poison. The brazier was cold—clearly not carbon monoxide poisoning. Then what caused it?”

She wiped her tears, heartbroken: “We followed Jiang Mingyu’s method exactly—no mistakes. My husband still died. If not the coal, then what killed him?”

Her eyes filled with sorrow: “This coal was given to us by Jiang Mingyu—I can’t confront him, then who? The Jade Emperor?”

Her eyes red with fury: “I say it again—he must answer for my husband’s death! Even if he’s the Imperial Envoy, murder still demands a life!”

“Heavens! Coal can kill? I’ll never burn it again!” A middle-aged man paled with fear.

“Better chop wood—survival comes first,” sighed an elderly man with white hair.

“I said all along this was tied to Jiang Da Ren—he’s not as noble as he seems,” added a burly man.

The crowd buzzed with debate...

In mere moments, Jiang Mingyu’s image among the people collapsed utterly.

Finally understanding, Li Goudan ventured: “Sister... could your husband have used the coal wrong?”

The woman forced a bitter smile, eyes drowning in grief: “I knew it—officials protect officials. There’s no justice here!”

Her eyes red, voice broken yet resolute: “Listen well—I’ll carry my husband’s body to the capital and petition the throne. I swear—I’ll make him pay with his life!”

Seeing her clutch the corpse to leave, Li Goudan rushed to block her: “Sister, calm down—I’m wrong! I’ll fetch the Official—he’ll give you a full explanation!”

Li Goudan was frantic—if this reached the Emperor’s ears, Jiang Da Ren, the people’s beloved official, would be ruined.

Ignoring the suspicious glances, he wiped cold sweat from his brow and bolted out, running as he muttered: “My Official—where are you? Come back! Disaster is coming!”

Li Goudan’s eyes red, he raced through the streets under the setting sun, his heart fixed on Jiang Da Ren’s safety.

His shoe soles kicked up clouds of dust as he marched, utterly unfatigued, eager to find my lord and resolve this crisis.

The sky was thick with clouds; inside the Qi Prince’s garden in the northern quarter of Shangmu County, the Qi Prince sat leisurely before a table, sipping tea, his beard thick and long.

He looked up at the gray, hazy sky and asked in a low voice: “How is that matter progressing?”

Ma De stood before the Qi Prince, his fat belly protruding, smiling broadly as he nodded repeatedly with utmost respect: “Your Highness, rest assured—I handled it myself. Everything is arranged. Just now, word came from the county: the grieving party has carried the corpse to the yamen to file a complaint. Jiang Mingyu knows nothing yet—he has no idea what has happened.”

Ma De exclaimed excitedly: “When the yamen moves, Your Highness shall immediately dispatch troops to clean up the mess—pin the murder charge directly on Jiang Mingyu’s head. Then, even the Emperor will believe he is the killer. After Jiang Mingyu dies, this land will still be ours!” As he spoke, Ma De’s eyes gleamed with anticipation.

His frantic movements made it seem as if he had already seen the day Jiang Mingyu was dragged to the executioner’s block.

The Qi Prince listened with caution, set down his teacup, and said slowly: “Are you certain there is no flaw? Jiang Mingyu is no fool. If he finds even one opening, the consequences will be dire. We need only remove him—if this implicates me, it will be troublesome.”

Ma De replied with full confidence: “Your Highness, I stake my head on it—there will be no mistake.”

The Qi Prince idly stroked his beard and said calmly: “Good.”

A crossroads howled with bitter wind.

The He family turned the corner; He Dachuan’s eyes burned red, his face dark as winter storm clouds.

He spotted Tu Kesiluo’s back as he carried He Muchen, and immediately pointed like a venomous snake, snarling at He Dachuan: “Father, that beast publicly humiliated me on the street!”

Without a word, He Dachuan’s gaze turned vicious, and he roared to his men: “Bring them here—surround these two insolent fools!”

At He Dachuan’s command, his retainers instantly encircled Tu Kesoiluo tightly.

He Dachuan strode forward with icy menace, his eyes like sharpened blades: “Was it you who beat my son?”

Tu Kesoiluo did not turn around; his voice was calm: “I did it. If you have the guts, come seek revenge.”

“To give birth to such a fat, useless waste is a disgrace to your family. I’m teaching him a lesson—you ought to thank me.”

He Dachuan, a nobleman with a short memory, naturally did not recall the voice of a minor figure like Tu Kesoiluo who trailed Jiang Mingyu.

He Dachuan flew into a rage, eyes bulging like an enraged bull: “You bastard! You dared strike my son—and dare to be so arrogant? Are you tired of living?”

He snarled: “I’ve been out of sight too long—you’ve forgotten who the real boss here is! Today, I’ll make you bleed where you stand, to avenge my son’s humiliation!”

“Don’t worry—I won’t let you die quickly. I’ll torture you slowly.”

He Dachuan grinned wickedly, his cruel, bloodthirsty nature laid bare.

He leered greedily at the beautiful woman beside Jiang Mingyu, his perverse desire to defile virtuous women fully exposed: “And you, little slut—it’s all your fault. Come with me and serve my son properly!”

He Dachuan’s eyes blazed with fury as he glared at the two, killing intent radiating from him: “You two beasts—why aren’t you kneeling to die yet? What are you waiting for?”

Calm and composed, Tu Kesoiluo replied without fear: “Mr. He, you really dare to speak so boldly?”

“You’re the boss of Shangmu County—then what is the newly arrived Imperial Commissioner?”

His sharp mind had just exposed He Dachuan’s true position in this place.

At the mention of Jiang Mingyu, He Dachuan’s face flushed crimson: “That outsider? He’s nothing!”

He Dachuan smirked slyly: “Wait. Perhaps when enemies come, he’ll meet the same fate as the last county magistrate—dead beneath the blade.”

He shouted again: “Remember this—he Jiang Mingyu is just a passing guest. I am the ironclad master here!”

Tu Kesoiluo sneered mockingly: “If the Imperial Commissioner heard such bold words, wouldn’t he be quite displeased?”

He Dachuan dismissed it with a scoff: “What can he do to me? He’s just a temporary outsider—dare he step out of the yamen to challenge me, He Dachuan? Ridiculous!”

Seeing the two still unmoved, He Dachuan’s temples throbbed with veins, and he snapped impatiently: “Enough! I’m too bored to waste words with you. Kneel and die now—or when I act myself, you’ll learn what real pain is!”

He glared at them again, each word dripping with venom: “I warn you—if you ever get another life, learn to open your eyes. There are many people in this world your lowly ants cannot afford to offend!”

Seeing the two still unmoving, He Dachuan erupted in fury: “Damn it! What are you waiting for? Get on your knees now!”