Chapter 802: Colluding with the Enemy, Selling Out the Nation

Yang Ji turned to Sun Xin: "Then I must ask Senior Sun to plead my case before the Young Master."

"Such a minor matter is but a word from Lord Yang—why must our Young Master intervene?"

Yang Ji's voice was grim, suppressing fury: "Sun Xin, if you want to die, go tell my father—he's not Prince Lu; he doesn't tolerate dirt. If he learns of this, none of us will escape—not even Prince Lu or his Young Master will fare well."

Sun Xin fell silent, and even Jiang Fangzheng said nothing.

After a long while, Jiang Fangzheng chuckled: "We all know Lord Yang is utterly impartial. Senior Sun was just joking—why take it so seriously, Young Master Yang?"

Sun Xin also changed his tone: "Our Wang Fu has long cooperated with Young Master Yang—we're happy to help. Earlier was just a jest."

He said: "Those Japanese are despicable scoundrels; they can be bribed. The Matsura clan of Kyushu seeks greater power in Japan and needs a batch of horizontal blades…"

"Hengdao?" Yang Ji asked, puzzled: "Aren't Japanese swords better?"

"Japanese swords are only better in material—their craftsmanship is far inferior to our Great Ming hengdao. Moreover, all the Japanese daimyo restrict Matsura's iron purchases; unable to obtain them locally, Matsura seeks hengdao from Great Ming."

Yang Ji looked at Jiang Fangzheng.

Jiang Fangzheng said: "Hengdao are official weapons. If discovered, this is treason."

Yang Ji remained silent.

Sun Xin smiled: "We merely prepare the hengdao and let them come and take them themselves. If discovered, you won't speak, Young Master Yang won't speak—who will know we prepared them?"

Seeing Jiang Fangzheng still refused and Yang Ji still silent, Sun Xin hinted: "Cooperating with the Japanese is safer than cooperating with the north. Even if the Emperor learns of it, he'll think we're merely after profit and won't suspect further—but if he learns military equipment was ever sent north, what do you think the Emperor will think?"

Jiang Fangzheng: "Are you threatening me?"

Yang Ji also frowned: "That matter is past, and you were involved too, Sun Xin—do you intend to kick away the ladder after climbing up?"

Sun Xin: "I'm only stating facts. What's the difference between doing something twice versus once? Besides, cooperating with the Japanese yields more money and lighter charges…"

Jiang Fangzheng pondered long, then asked: "How many Japanese will come in?"

"They'll never betray us—they don't even know who we are," Sun Xin said at once, relieved by his concession. "Those who know won't come to Great Ming. Even the Embroidered Uniform Guard can't trace us."

After a pause, Jiang Fangzheng asked: "How many do they want?"

Sun Xin held up a number. Jiang Fangzheng said: "Too many."

Sun Xin spoke meaningfully: "If we don't supply that many, our ships passing through their territory will lose two—Young Master Yang, it won't be worth it."

Yang Ji immediately said: "Agree to him, Senior Jiang. Your son doesn't want to stay in Datong—send him to Xuanfu. I'm close to Yang Jun, son of Yang Hong. If he goes to Xuanfu, Yang Jun will look after him—far better than being under the care of a eunuch in Datong."

Jiang Fangzheng was deeply tempted.

Though promoted by Wang Zhen as Commander of Quanzhou Garrison, he didn't want his son to rise through eunuch patronage like himself.

A bad reputation, too great a risk—history showed him that eunuchs in power never ended well; he must extricate his son.

Moreover, the northern trade must stop. Though Wang Zhen was his patron, he always felt danger.

Xuanfu was better—it would remove him from Wang Zhen's sphere and allow him to achieve something.

Yang Ji sought money; Jiang Fangzheng sought power. Both compromised and agreed to Sun Xin.

Sun Xin raised his cup, about to clink it, when Chao Yan, having slowly crept up the steps, stepped on a small stone. The sharp stone pierced the wound on her sole, embedding itself in flesh and reopening the already-stopped bleeding…

Chao Yan let out a muffled groan, staggered, nearly fell, frantically grabbed a pillar—but still emitted a faint sound.

She hoped those inside hadn't heard—but moments later, the study door burst open with a crash.

Xiao Hong refused to yield—even dead, she would never forgive them; she hated every one who deliberately harmed her!

Xiao Hong raised bloodshot eyes, tears of blood sliding from her corners, and asked Pan Yun: "Will you avenge me?" Pan Yun nodded firmly: "I will!"

The cold wind paused briefly, then swept past the three standing figures, howling through the trees.

Xiao Hong spun in place, still unable to release the rage in her chest.

Pan Yun saw through her at once—her dear friend's suppressed bitterness, if held too long, would harm herself.

She asked Wu Zhihong: "County Magistrate Wu, is there anyone within a hundred li who makes you gnash your teeth but whom you cannot punish?"

"Yes," Wu Zhihong gritted his teeth: "The new Prefect."

Pan Yun was intrigued: "Did he offend you right after arriving?"

Wu Zhihong: "Before, I thought if the Prefect didn't actively obstruct me, I should be grateful. But now I realize—for an official, inaction is obstruction. Alas, you don't know the helplessness of my memorials never reaching the Censorate or the Court of Judicial Review."

Thus, anger has lately haunted her heart.

Wu Zhihong increasingly felt himself a clean official—completely different from his self six months ago.

Six months ago, he was a mediocre county official who drifted along, flattering superiors and following regulations just to avoid mistakes. Now…

Wu Zhihong could boldly claim he was, at least passably, a good official.

Pan Yun mused: "So pushed to the extreme, one becomes either great evil or great loyalty—the ancients spoke truly."

Wu Zhihong asked curiously: "Why did Daoist Pan suddenly ask this?"

Pan Yun turned and smiled at Xiao Hong.

Xiao Hong had already summoned Sister Hong Yan, and the ghost and fox had gone out to play.

Wu Zhihong froze, voice trembling: "W-what are they doing?"

Xue Shao glanced at him: "To get you revenge."

Wu Zhihong's mouth opened slightly, voice strained: "If I say it was a joke—can Daoist Pan call them back?"

Pan Yun shook her head: "They are free. I cannot control them."

Wu Zhihong: "Can you at least warn them not to reveal their connection to me?"

Pan Yun: "This has nothing to do with you."

Wu Zhihong exhaled deeply, his heart loosening: "Good, good."

Xue Shao reminded: "It's time to meet Sun Xin."

Wu Zhihong pondered briefly—since coercion and bribery were needed, keeping him in the guest quarters was inappropriate.

Wu Zhihong tossed his superior's fate aside, waved his hand, and ordered the County Sergeant to drag the still-unconscious Sun Xin to the dungeon and hang him up.

The dungeon had an interrogation room.

Wu Zhihong did not like using torture. When trying cases on ordinary days, he would only mete out a symbolic beating with the board or a few lashes of the whip when he came across someone stubbornly uncooperative, and he barely ever used finger-squeezing, let alone the punishment chamber.

At this moment Sun Xin was hanging there, and the three of them sat facing him, waiting for him to wake, the tips of their noses full of the stale, rotting smell left over from before.