Chapter Nine: Dividing the Spoils

"Xiao Chan, Director of the Ministry of Revenue, has trespassed into the Imperial City Guard headquarters. Consider it treason. Men, assemble the troops, seal Xiao Chan’s residence, and bring his family to the Imperial City Guard for interrogation."

"I shall set an example today. I will kill the chicken to scare the monkeys, so those petty scoundrels can see what becomes of anyone who dares to trespass on my territory!"

A squad of men quickly mobilized, donned their straw capes, and vanished into the torrential rain.

Bai Yan had not been saved, and now Xiao Chan had been sacrificed as well. Shi Weigong felt his heart turn to ice. Only now did he understand why he was the only one among the six ministers to have stepped forward. Those old foxes were all waiting to watch him make a fool of himself.

He was filled with regret—regret for appearing before the Imperial City Guard, regret for making it clear he stood in opposition to them, and regret for provoking a madman. From this point on, this madman would fixate on his faction and bite until they were dead. But now, it was too late for regrets.

Xiao Chan’s corpse was tossed onto the street like a stray dog, right in front of Shi Weigong. It rolled several times in the muddy rainwater, the blood staining the surroundings a vivid, shocking red.

With a creaking sound, the great gates of the Imperial City Guard slowly closed. Above the pitch-black gates, where the copper studs were covered in green rust, hung a plaque. The characters on the plaque were written with forceful, sweeping strokes: "Imperial City Guard."

Once, this plaque had been unremarkable, coated in thick dust so that the characters were barely legible. But at this moment, someone had wiped away the grime, and the entire plaque shone as if brand new. The three characters, "Imperial City Guard," were as vibrant as fresh blood, as if forged from the lives of the fallen, striking awe and terror into all who beheld them.

News of Xiao Zhi’s brutal killing of Xiao Chan quickly reached the palace gates. The officials, who had been kneeling in the rain, wailing and begging the Emperor for justice, were all stunned. Shi Weigong had gone to the Imperial City Guard in person; not only did he fail to rescue Bai Yan, but he had also lost Xiao Chan’s life in the process. Many began to harbor thoughts of retreat. Heaven knew who would be next, and if it were them, who would stand up to seek justice?

Through the misty downpour, a horse approached slowly. Raindrops dripped like a curtain of pearls from the brim of the rider's bamboo hat, and the sound of hooves was swallowed by the wind and rain. The rider arrived before the gathered officials and scanned each of their faces.

"Who are you?"

"Mu Weihu, Garrison General of the Imperial City Guard."

The Imperial City Guard?

The crowd kneeling on the ground felt a jolt of panic.

They heard Mu Weihu say coldly, "The Commissioner ordered me to come and take a look at you all. I am to remember every face, so here I am."

Once, Mu Weihu would have referred to himself as a lowly subordinate, never daring to put on airs even before a seventh-rank magistrate, as the status of the Imperial City Guard had been terribly awkward. Before he left, Xiao Zhi had told him, "It won't be long before these people become guests of our Imperial City Guard."

"Oh, I suddenly remembered, I have an urgent matter at home. My lords, I shall take my leave now," a clean-stream official with a graying beard slapped his thigh and hurried away.

Where there is one, there are two. One by one, the officials looked at Mu Weihu as if he were a ghost, scrambling to find excuses to leave. Mu Weihu sneered and spurred his horse forward. Xiao Zhi had said that as long as Mu Weihu went and looked at each of their faces, this group would scatter like birds and beasts. He hadn't expected the Chief to be so right. He felt a surge of contempt for these officials, his gaze hardening with sharpness.

Inside the palace, when Qin Yong learned that the ministers had retreated, he laughed. "A-Bao, it seems Xiao Zhi has finished the job."

"Congratulations, Your Majesty. From this day forth, you have gained a tiger-like general," Eunuch Hu chimed in with immediate flattery.

"More than a tiger-like general—he is my lucky star."

That night, Qin Yong, who usually ate sparingly, finished an extra chicken leg and stayed up late reviewing memorials and handling state affairs. In a single day, the Great Chu remained the Great Chu, yet it felt as if it were no longer the same kingdom it had been.

The young eunuch sent to scout for news of the Imperial City Guard had returned long ago, but Eunuch Hu had not reported the details truthfully. The young eunuch had seen the steward of the Minister of War, Song Qi, knock on the doors of the Imperial City Guard after Shi Weigong and his men had left with Xiao Chan’s body. The steward had smiled brightly at Xiao Zhi and respectfully presented a calling card wrapped in gold leaf. Xiao Zhi seemed very pleased, nodding repeatedly; he had evidently agreed to attend the banquet.

Qin Yong had just gained this divine helper, Xiao Zhi; he could not afford to harbor suspicion, at least not yet. Eunuch Hu had served the royal family since he was a child—how could he not understand that the imperial heart is the most difficult to fathom? Once a seed of doubt was planted, it would surely take root and sprout one day.

As for Xiao Zhi, he had indeed accepted the invitation from Song Qi. Not only did he accept, but he specified that the banquet be held at the Jiaofangsi, and even more outrageously, he demanded to bring all his brothers from the Imperial City Guard. There were over a hundred men in the Imperial City Guard, yet Song Qi’s steward did not frown once, acting as if he were flattered and agreeing repeatedly.

Why was Song Qi hosting Xiao Zhi? The reasons were obvious. First, the Salt Industry Law—the specific regulations for the imperial monopoly had yet to be released, and Song Qi wanted a head start on the news. As the executor of the Salt Industry Law, obtaining information from Xiao Zhi would give him the upper hand. Second, to build a relationship. If you encounter a madman, being his friend is the best course of action; even if you cannot be friends, you must never become his enemy.

Xiao Zhi’s methods were erratic and unpredictable. No one could sleep soundly with such an enemy. Even if one were to become his enemy, one had to appear warm on the surface while secretly sharpening the knife, preferably for a single, lethal strike.

Night fell, but the Imperial City Guard was still bustling. The squad sent out had brought all of Xiao Chan’s family to the prison. The women wailed and cried upon learning of Xiao Chan’s death, while the men trembled in terror. Upon entering the dungeon, they saw Bai Yan, who looked like a bloody gourd, and rows of rusted, blood-stained torture implements. The centurion in charge of the interrogation introduced them to everything they saw with great solemnity. Before the questioning even began, the Xiao family members spilled everything they knew, confessing every dirty deed down to the last detail.

Xiao Zhi was still sipping tea—tea confiscated from Bai Yan’s residence, a top-grade Da Hong Pao. Its flavor was indeed in a different league from the tea made of elm seeds.

Mu Weihu handed two ledgers to Xiao Zhi. "The finances of both the Bai and Xiao houses have been cleared and inventoried."

A total of eight thousand taels of gold, over three hundred thousand taels of silver, and five hundred thousand strings of copper coins had been confiscated from Bai Yan’s residence. Countless famous paintings, calligraphy, antiques, and porcelain were also seized. Xiao Zhi flipped through the pages casually until he spotted a piece of land: a mountain valley about fifty miles west of the capital, covering over 1,300 acres.

"Cross this out. I want it."

Mu Weihu glanced at it. "Chief, this is just a patch of mountain land. It’s not worth much." Only land that could grow grain was valuable; nobody wanted to buy broken mountain land. Mu Weihu’s implication was that if Xiao Zhi wanted property, he should just take a proper estate.

"This is the one. I like the place." Xiao Zhi continued flipping through the pages.

As for Xiao Chan’s assets, it was a pitiful story. Aside from his house, the man had nothing. All the money he had embezzled had been spent on greasing palms and currying favor with his superiors. It was no wonder that, as a descendant of a fallen family, he had managed to reach the position of Director of the Ministry of Revenue at such a young age.

Xiao Zhi waved his hand. "Tell everyone to assemble. We’re going to weigh the gold and silver and divide the spoils."