Chapter 78: Wind Howls, Snow Ravages, Shaking Mountains and Shaking Peaks

The Two Huai regions have three salt tax transport bureaus: Taizhou, Huai’an, and Tongzhou.

Each transport bureau oversees about ten salt fields.

Hai Rui drew attention in Huai’an Prefecture, while Chen Dong secretly moved to investigate Taizhou’s salt warehouses and fields.

Taizhou was merely three hundred li from Huai’an; Chen Dong’s party disembarked at Guangling Ferry in Yangzhou Prefecture and headed straight for the Taizhou Salt Transport Office.

The Southern Zhili region was mostly flatland, and the official road between Yangzhou’s Guangling and Taizhou was a straight, unobstructed path.

After requisitioning all the horses at the ferry, a hundred elite troops led the way.

The rest traveled light on foot, seizing any horses they encountered at official post stations, following closely behind.

Chen Dong, a civil official, could not ride, so he shared a horse with Jiao Ze.

To save time, he had Jiao Ze bind him to the saddle.

Jiao Ze hesitated for a long while, but eventually agreed under Chen Dong’s insistence.

It was already the twelfth lunar month, freezing cold; though Southern Zhili was not as frigid as the north, the biting, icy wind showed no mercy.

Bound to the horse’s back, Chen Dong endured the jolting ride and bone-chilling cold, nearly fainting.

He had no sense of how long they had ridden.

Finally, the horses slowed—they had entered Taizhou’s territory, and the party paused briefly to rest.

Chen Dong forced himself to stand and ordered Jiao Ze: “Deputy Commander Jiao, take your men with me to the Taizhou Salt Transport Office!”

“Send men to guard the ten salt fields—especially Fuan, Dongtai, and Anfeng salt fields. Not a single grain of salt shall leave until I arrive!”

Though the deputy commander held a second-rank post, he was military; Chen Dong’s courtesy and formalities were limited, and he gave direct orders.

Jiao Ze, having reached this rank, was unfazed; he immediately ordered a few trusted men to stay behind and notify the following garrison units.

After arranging this, he turned to the fourth-rank Vice Minister of the Dalisi : “Minister Chen, are you able to proceed?”

Chen Dong gritted his teeth: “Go! Only twenty li left—hurry!”

⊙tTkдn⊙￠o

We must move fast—catch them off guard.

If we give certain people time to prepare, the salt warehouses may be set ablaze.

Jiao Ze was somewhat impressed by this civil official.

To seize the moment, he willingly endured being bound and dragged—such a civil official was far superior to those cowardly scholars who hid in carriages and pointed fingers.

He re-tied Chen Dong securely between his thighs and spurred the horse into a gallop.

The sky cracked with cold.

The deputy commander, carrying the Vice Minister of the Dalisi , charged into the snowstorm.

…

Half an hour later, Fuan Salt Field.

Crack.

The main gate of the Fuan Salt Tax Office was violently smashed open.

Snow and wind rushed inside.

The chief official immediately stepped forward to rebuke: “What bandits dare attack an official office!”

The leading battalion commander seized him and scanned the scene.

Seeing control established, he shouted: “By order of the Provincial Governor of the Two Huai Salt Taxes and Assistant Censor Hai Rui—we are inspecting all salt fields in Taizhou!”

“All officials, remain in place and await orders until Vice Minister Chen Dong arrives!”

As he spoke, a sly, rat-faced clerk quietly shuffled backward.

The battalion commander drew his waist saber and slammed the hilt into the clerk’s face.

The clerk collapsed, howling in pain.

All officials glared in fury.

The battalion commander ignored them, barking: “If anyone dares move again—the higher command orders: you lowly clerks may be executed!”

The officials trembled.

They dared not meet his gaze, lowering their heads to exchange covert glances.

Once the battalion commander had subdued the officials, nearly a hundred elite soldiers took positions at the four corners, guarding the salt workers and laborers.

Dongtai Salt Field, Anfeng Salt Field, and others were similarly seized, one after another.

Meanwhile,

the Taizhou Salt Transport Office.

Chen Dong vomited against the wall.

Under Jiao Ze’s watchful gaze, he redressed his robes and wiped the vomit from his lips with the wide sleeve of his crimson robe.

His eyes glinted with a fierce edge: “Go! Inside!”

Soldiers had already stormed ahead and secured the premises; Chen Dong straightened his back and strode into the Taizhou Salt Transport Office.

“I am Vice Minister of the Dalisi , investigating the corruption case of Wang Ruyan, Transport Commissioner of the Two Huai. Who is the chief official here?”

Chen Dong was naturally gaunt; after the icy wind, his face looked even more haggard and menacing.

His words seemed to exhale the cold of the entire journey.

All officials turned to look at a short, stout officer.

The man, pot-bellied, sat calmly in the chief seat, showing no fear: “I am Chang Ke, Deputy Judge of the Taizhou Salt Transport Suboffice.”

Chen Dong nodded to a battalion commander: “Take this man and the chief clerk with me to the salt warehouse.”

He turned and walked out.

Chang Ke glared at the soldiers trying to escort him: “Impudent! I am not a convicted criminal—you dare not humiliate me. Stand aside—I’ll walk myself!”

He lifted his robe’s hem and descended the dais with steady steps.

His fat body moved with calm ease behind Chen Dong.

The two walked front and back, flanked by soldiers and the chief clerk.

Chen Dong did not look back, coldly asking: “According to Xu Fuyuan and Wang Ruyan’s testimonies, the Two Huai salt warehouses have been hollowed out. Deputy Judge Chang, is this true?”

Chang Ke shook his head: “Wang Ruyan and Xu Fuyuan have long-standing grudges. This is just typical bureaucratic infighting—spreading mud.”

Chen Dong said nothing: “According to regulations, the Two Huai salt warehouses should hold 210,000 yin. How much should Taizhou’s warehouse hold?”

Chang Ke replied instantly: “Two Huai totals 210,000 yin—Huai’an has 70,000, Tongzhou has 50,000, and Taizhou has 90,000 yin.”

Chen Dong’s strength slightly returned, and his pace quickened.

Soldiers along the way lit torches.

Snow began falling, settling on their official robes.

Chen Dong, accompanied by the deputy judge and chief clerk, arrived at the Taizhou Transport Office’s salt warehouse: eleven large storerooms, named after the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches.

The doors were tightly shut, chained, sealed with official wax strips bearing the inscription: “Taizhou Transport Office Salt Reserves.”

Chen Dong brushed his hand over the seal and asked: “Deputy Judge Chang, do these eleven warehouses hold 90,000 yin?”

Ninety thousand yin equaled eighteen million jin; according to Xu Fuyuan, there were likely only 20,000 yin—such a gap would be visible to the naked eye.

Chang Ke chuckled lightly: “Minister Chen is here to investigate. As a suspect, my word means nothing. Minister Chen, with such authority, may inspect them himself.”

His tone was mocking; he patted his belly, producing two dull thuds.

Chen Dong frowned, turning to look at Chang Ke.

The latter remained utterly unafraid.

Chen Dong slowly drew a deep breath, then, before all eyes, snatched the battalion commander’s saber and pressed it against Chang Ke’s throat.

His eyes burned like flames, fixed on Chang Ke.

He hissed coldly: “If I kill you now, I need only submit a written report, affix a seal, and it will be settled. Do you believe me?”

The suddenness stunned Chang Ke; staring at Chen Dong’s gaunt face and vicious eyes, feeling the cold steel at his neck, he involuntarily wet himself.

Chen Dong waved a hand at the stench, tossed the blade back to the commander, and ordered: “If he pretends again, stab him in the chest.”

Then he turned to Jiao Ze and nodded.

“Open the warehouses.”

Jiao Ze obeyed.

Clatter—chains were torn open.

Several company commanders pushed open the warehouse doors simultaneously.

Creak.

Creak.

The doors, long unused, groaned as if gasping in agony.

Though it was midnight, the moment the doors opened, moonlight burst forth, spilling freely over the warehouse’s interior and exterior.

The moonlight was impartial.

It illuminated the vast snowstorm’s pure white, Chen Dong’s stunned expression, and Chang Ke’s triumphant smirk.

It also revealed eleven warehouses, completely full!

No shortage—every warehouse was packed to the brim!

Chen Dong could not believe it, pacing back and forth through one salt warehouse after another.

Jiao Ze said nothing, drew his saber, and stabbed into each salt sack with the soldiers.

White blades went in, came out coated in salt grains.

They exchanged a glance, faces grim, and shook their heads.

Chang Ke’s ill-timed voice rang out again: “Two officials, nine ten-thousand salt certificates—please verify.”

Chen Dong remained silent.

The salt depot’s capacity is ten thousand certificates; eleven depots fully stocked means eleven ten-thousand certificates!

And yet there’s still more!

A nine-ten-thousand-certificate shortfall was made up in less than a month…

No, even less than a month.

From the moment Hai Rui set out southward to when the Southern Zhili received word, there could have been no more than twenty days’ preparation time!

Even if they bought back the salt from merchants, it couldn’t have happened this fast—could merchants possibly hoard eighteen million catties?

Chen Dong suddenly raised his head, staring at Chang Ke and the clerk behind him, and asked: “Where are the ledgers! Bring the ledgers!”

Chang Ke pressed his lips together: “Assistant Commissioner Chen, the winter air is dry; a fire broke out a few days ago—the ledgers were accidentally burned.”

Before Chen Dong could speak, Jiao Ze exploded in fury: “You son of a bitch, don’t you fear death?”

Chang Ke frowned at Jiao Ze and rebuked: “This military officer, watch your tongue. Losing ledgers is dereliction of duty—it merits only a demotion by one rank. Why shout for blood?”

“Besides, this matter doesn’t concern you, a mere military officer.”

After scolding Jiao Ze, he turned to Chen Dong: “Assistant Commissioner Chen, shall I show you around again?”

Chen Dong slowly raised his head, staring at Chang Ke until the man grew uneasy.

At that moment, a Battalion Commander galloped straight in.

Everyone turned to look.

The Battalion Commander’s face was frantic; he leapt from his horse before it stopped, tumbling and scraping himself raw.

He cried out in panic: “Assistant Commissioner! General Jiao! The Xiao Hai Salt Field, the Cao Yan Salt Field, the Dingxi Salt Field—three sites have caught fire!”

Jiao Ze’s face turned ashen.

Chen Dong, stunned, finally understood—the salt in the depots came from where?

Probably salt produced this year!

They burned empty shells! They moved the salt meant for sale into the depots to fill them!

Of course the fires broke out—his and Hai Rui’s feint, their relentless rush day and night—they were still too late!

Chang Ke seemed equally unaware; his expression flickered slightly.

Then, with sincere earnestness, he declared: “Assistant Commissioner Chen, quickly—let’s go put out the fire!”

As he spoke, his potbelly twitched twice—clearly he was stifling laughter.

Jiao Ze clenched his fists, afraid he’d lose control and strike.

He turned away, refusing to look at the disgusting face of the Deputy Director of the Transport Office.

He was about to speak to Chen Dong, asking what to do next.

Suddenly, he saw Chen Dong reach out and grasp the steel saber at his waist.

Jiao Ze instinctively moved to hold it back—but then insight struck, and he unthinkingly released his grip.

Chen Dong’s gaunt face showed no expression as he drew Jiao Ze’s saber.

Before Chang Ke’s stunned gaze, he slowly, deliberately, drove it into Chang Ke’s side.

A snowflake drifted onto Chen Dong’s eyelid; he blinked hard, locking eyes with Chang Ke.

Chang Ke’s throat gurgled; blood seeped from his lips.

Chen Dong twisted the saber in his grip, driving it half an inch deeper.

He spat through his teeth: “I told you—a lowly seventh-rank official like you? To kill you requires only a paperwork supplement. Why won’t you believe me?”

Before all eyes, the Vice Minister of the Dalisi had slain a seventh-rank Deputy Director!

Everyone stared in horror.

Chen Dong showed no reaction. After speaking, he released the blade and snatched the clerk’s robe to wipe the blood from his hands.

He remembered his duty and turned to Jiao Ze: “I’m going to the official office. Deputy Commander Jiao, please bring the directors of all salt fields.”

Then, looking at the trembling clerk, he said gently: “You, Clerk, please summon all salt merchants who received salt from Taizhou.”

The clerk’s teeth chattered: “Ah… ah?”

Chen Dong ignored him, walking straight back to the office; Jiao Ze followed close behind.

Heavy snowflakes whitened Chen Dong’s crimson official robe, crimson and white interwoven, leaving only a silhouette.

After a long while.

The clerk shivered, finally daring to look down.

The ground was a mess.

The Deputy Director lay with wide, unblinking eyes, hands clutching the blade buried deep in his side, convulsing.

The clerk finally snapped awake.

He grabbed his deputy’s sleeve.

With a snarling face, he roared: “Go! Summon the salt merchants! Summon them!”

He glanced again at the blood on the ground—and one phrase flashed in his mind: The wind howls, the snow rages—tonight, men die.

…

The next day, noon, Southern Zhili, Ying Tianfu .

If one asked which mansion in Southern Zhili was most beautiful, people would answer: each has its merits.

But if one asked which was most magnificent and noble, the Wei Duke Mansion alone reigned supreme.

This mansion, later known as the First Garden of Jinling, was then unquestionably the First Mansion of Southern Zhili.

Though not large in area, it carried the prestige of the Taizu’s former palace and the Zhongshan Prince’s former residence—its nobility was immeasurable.

The Wei Duke Mansion faced south, spanning over thirty mu, with lush plants, water courtyards, and artificial hills—all present.

At its gate hung a couplet: “Fill your cup with Jinling wine, autumn wind sings of Huai River’s sound”—revealing the Wei Duke’s devotion to elegance, his disinterest in politics.

Precisely because of this, every official seeking to pay homage was barred at the threshold.

Now, after a night of heavy snow, the storm had ceased; the sky remained dim, but servants had cleared all snow from the ground.

An old man was arranging a rock formation in the rear garden—the formation, named “Immortal Peak,” was a single Taihu stone carved into the shape of an immortal.

A maid knelt behind him, brewing tea.

Just then, the steward walked up slowly and bowed, waiting.

The old man waved his hand; the maids withdrew.

Only then did the steward speak: “Master, the heir was detained in Huai’an Prefecture by Hai Rui.”

The old man continued quietly adjusting the rocks on the formation, saying nothing.

The steward went on: “Hai Rui says the heir spied on the Imperial Envoy’s secrets; by law, he deserves tattooing and exile.”

“Also with the heir were: Censor Zhang Huan, younger brother of the Marquis of Xuancheng, and brother-in-law of Wan Hao, Director of the Nanjing Imperial Academy—about seven or eight men.”

The old man remained unmoved.

The steward continued: “Also, last night Chen Dong went to Taizhou Prefecture and seized control of the Transport Office and several salt fields. During this, Deputy Director Chang Ke was imprisoned for burning official records—but… word is he’s already dead.”

“This morning, Hai Rui and Chen Dong began meeting salt merchants. The purpose remains unknown until evening.”

The old man finished arranging the final stone and finally moved.

He clapped his hands, admiring his work.

He lifted the teapot and drank straight from it, gulping deeply, then asked casually between swallows: “Who sent the heir?”

The steward bowed: “The uncles and clan elders came to you first, but you didn’t respond, so they went to the heir.”

The outcome was obvious—the boy was easily manipulated.

The old man cursed: “These old bastards—consume, use, then demand others die for them!”

“How long have I been back from Beijing? Just started enjoying life, and they want me to take the blame!”

“This title is for them to sit on!”

The steward dared not reply.

The old man turned and ordered: “Go. Tell every branch: if you want me to handle this, hand over your ledgers. Everything you’ve taken behind my back—return it all. Or don’t bother.”

The steward bowed and replied: “Yes, Master.”

The old man’s curses had drained his anger.

Now that he’d vented, he must plan.

Hai Rui’s salt inspection wasn’t aimed at any one person—but those of us standing tall must take the hit.

Yet every attempt at negotiation failed—like throwing flirtatious glances at a blind man.

Now that he has seized the salt fields and begun meeting merchants, there is no more room for luck.

Wei Duke Xu Bangrui stroked his beard and said: “I’ll write several letters. Send them to Xu Jie, Li Chunfang, and the Marquis of Xuancheng.”

“Tell them: this time, the man is dangerous. Let two-tenths go. Let this case end with Wan Hao.”

The steward waited until the old man finished, then asked: “And the heir?”

Xu Bangrui could no longer contain his rage: “Wan Hao is Director of the Imperial Academy—a fourth-rank official! Isn’t that enough for the Grand Secretariat and Hai Rui to make an example of!?”

“If they still refuse to release him, don’t blame me for smashing his Provincial Governor’s procession!”

“A bunch of fools.”

Xu Bangrui cursed and motioned to dismiss the steward.

Then he suddenly remembered something and called him back: “Wait—also tell Minister of Revenue Cao Bangfu…”

“That eunuch Zhang Jing—he came with hundreds from the Imperial Stable Office, didn’t he?”

"Don't give him any pay—he should go to Wang Zongmu for it. He has plenty of grain."

A cold glint flashed briefly in Xu Bangrui’s eyes.

The Grand Secretariat has truly lost all respect—they could just plainly demand how much profit the Southern Zhili should yield, yet they insist on sending an imperial envoy to humiliate them.

Don’t they think we’re worth a damn?

That mere Hai Rui couldn’t even handle Xu Jie back then.

Now, with the Two Huai salt administration, how many Xu Jies are there?

He’s just a fourth-rank Assistant Censor—no matter how stern and incorruptible, he can’t even think of punishing any of us; he’d have to bow deeply just to meet us.

Punish him? Hmph… Even if Zhang Juzheng came himself, let’s see if he dares lift a finger.

This offer of twenty percent profit is already a major concession—if you refuse, don’t blame us for using force.

Xu Bangrui looked up at the darkening sky.

Storms are coming—four characters flashed into his mind.

He shook his head again; in Southern Zhili, only those above first rank can summon wind and rain—it’s not Hai Rui’s place to do so!

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