Chapter 1010: Wind Stirring

Xue Shao forced Cao Rong to appear.

His private compartment was stolen, and so many of his men were captured; if he didn't show up now, the Cao family might truly be seized.

Cao Rong was not without restraint—he had no intention of rebelling—so he could only seek another solution.

First, negotiate with Xue Shao; if peace could be achieved, all the better; if not…

A cold glint flashed in Cao Rong's eyes: if words failed, then force would have to settle it.

He did not wish to rebel, but if the imperial court truly punished him, it would be Xue Shao's fault, not his own.

If Xue Shao had not pressed them so hard, leaving them no way out, how could he have been driven to this desperate end?

Only when he dismounted and looked up at the Prefect's office sign did Cao Rong remember his elderly mother and wife and children left in the capital.

A pang of sorrow crossed his eyes—everything was Xue Shao's fault; if they hated anyone, let them hate Xue Shao.

Cao Rong tightened his face and stepped into the Prefect's office.

At this moment, Xue Shao had already finished interrogating five men; the government office Runners were now washing the grand hall with buckets of water, and since they hadn't expected the Regional Commander to arrive, they stood frozen, buckets in hand.

Xue Shao, seated above reading confessions, lifted his head at the commotion, smiled faintly, and set down the evidence: "Commander Cao has arrived. Someone, escort Commander Cao to the back hall and serve tea."

Xue Shao casually organized the documents on the desk and handed them to Old Three, who stood waiting, then rose.

Cao Rong took two steps at once, stomping through the puddles in the grand hall and rushing forward to grab the item in Old Three's hands.

Old Three's expression changed; he raised his hand to block—within an instant, they exchanged five or six strikes.

Cao Rong's hands were as hard as iron, striking and grasping with thudding impacts; each time Old Three parried, it felt like being smashed by a block of metal. After seven or eight moves, he could barely hold his ground, forced back half a step—when suddenly a hand braced his lower back.

A pale, slender hand reached from the side, precisely intercepting Cao Rong's thunderous punch amid a blur of motion, then twisted the wrist and seized his wrist in reverse.

Cao Rong jerked his hand to break free, but found the palm following his force as it rotated, lightly gripping yet firmly locking his wrist.

An invisible force bound Cao Rong's hand.

He looked up in shock at Xue Shao.

Xue Shao stood behind and to the side of Old Three, still wearing a faint smile; seeing Cao Rong's gaze, he nodded gently: "Commander Cao, my bodyguard's martial skill is low—he may not satisfy you."

Cao Rong stared hard at him: "Bodyguard? A bodyguard wearing a flying-fish robe?"

Xue Shao: "A bodyguard granted by the Emperor."

Cao Rong had no reply; he shook his wrist, still tightly held.

Xue Shao smiled slightly and released his grip at once.

Cao Rong's eyes turned icy; he murmured: "He's useless. But I see Xue Censor's martial skill is not weak—why don't we spar?"

Xue Shao refused: "I am a civil official; I am not skilled in martial arts."

Cao Rong laughed bitterly, lifting his bruised wrist: "Not skilled in martial arts?"

Xue Shao's expression didn't change as he nodded: "I merely have greater strength."

He turned to Old Three: "Go."

Old Three immediately took the items and withdrew.

Cao Rong's gaze followed the items in Old Three's hands; only when the man descended the steps did he look up at Xue Shao, implying: "Xue Censor, your methods are impressive—but when did imperial officials become thieves?"

"Thief?" Xue Shao smiled faintly. "A people's thief? Or a state's thief?"

He pointed to Old Three, who had turned the screen and entered the back hall: "The item in his hands is evidence of a state's thief. Commander Cao, guess where I obtained it?"

Cao Rong stared coldly at Xue Shao; the atmosphere teetered on collapse when Song Hao burst out laughing from behind the screen: "Commander Cao's esteemed presence brings honor to this humble abode! Honor indeed! Quickly, quickly—the grand hall is filthy; let us move to the back hall!"

He ignored the tense atmosphere between them, stepped forward and squeezed between the two, warmly inviting Cao Rong then Xue Shao: "Xue Censor has worked all morning—he must be hungry and tired. I've prepared tea and snacks; please, come to the back hall and partake."

Xue Shao smiled, stepped aside, and gestured: "Commander Cao, after you."

Cao Rong snorted, swept his sleeve, and strode past both men toward the back hall.

Xue Shao followed behind with a smile.

Song Hao exhaled deeply behind them, wiped sweat from his brow, and hurried after.

As Old Three carried the evidence past the screen, he saw the Prefect himself crouched by the back door, eavesdropping—unashamed even when spotted—until the atmosphere outside turned icy, then he dashed out in haste.

Old Three thought civil officials truly had too many scheming tricks—even mediation took forever. He grunted and hurried out the back door.

He pulled out a sheet from the bottom; beneath it lay a token.

He immediately took the items to An Chen: "Boss, Lord Xue ordered us to raid the Cao household."

An Chen took the paper: it bore Xue Shao's own handwriting ordering the confiscation of the Cao family's assets, sealed at the end with Xue Shao's official seal.

The token was for mobilizing the local garrison—this was the Emperor's special privilege, originally intended for dealing with the Jiangnan faction, but now used first in Guangzhou Prefecture.

But Cao Rong was Regional Commander—how could they mobilize his troops?

An Chen instantly understood Xue Shao's plan; he turned and asked: "Where's the Guoshi?"

"Gone to find her senior disciple?"

No one expected Pan Yun to encounter Wang Cong here, and even fewer expected Wang Cong, despite claiming the title of Guoshi, to be treated so badly.

Indeed, distance weakens imperial authority—Cao Rong here acts like a local emperor.

An Chen said: "Let's go find Wang Cong."

"Huh? Isn't it the Guoshi we're looking for?"

"If the Guoshi is here, all the better; if not, Wang Cong and his group will suffice."

Wang Cong, enthusiastically introducing his laundry tub to a customer, sneezed twice in a row.

His heart tightened; he waited for the third sneeze—but it never came.

He didn't feel sick; it must be someone thinking of him.

Who?

Thinking of him in broad daylight—how distracting to his work!

When one customer showed no interest, Wang Cong still warmly escorted them to the door—then turned to see two brocade-clad guards standing at the alley's mouth. Oh, no—two Brocade Guards.

Wang Cong silently met their stares.

A quarter of an hour later, Wang Cong saw off all the clients, shut the main gate, gathered all his brothers, and left with An Chen.

An Chen led them back to the Prefect's government office, opened the armory directly, and let them pick their own sabers, swords, and spears.

The quartermaster standing off to one side turned a blind eye — all of this had been specially authorized by the Prefect, my lord.

Song Hao dared not send anyone out, nor dared he stand on Cao Rong's side, so he put on a face that said "I'm not involved," yet privately supplied Xue Shao with weapons and offered every kind of convenience.

He even went so far as to call out the military households under guard outside the city, throwing the gates wide open and letting the county magistrate use other pretexts to lead those military households out of the garrison farms, after which he handed all of those people over to the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

At dusk, Cao Rong had drunk his belly full of tea but still had not received a firm word from Xue Shao; just as he was about to lose his temper and leave, he was detained once more by Xue Shao, who pressed him to stay for dinner.

Xue Shao eased his tone and said: "It's not that we can't talk — it's just that Commander Cao is too impatient."