Paraded Through the Streets

Longxing County, the grass market outside the walls. Compared to before, the grass market seemed noticeably bleaker now. The impact of the autumn tax was gradually becoming apparent, and more and more people could no longer afford to do business. How had life turned into this? Yet in stark contrast to the desolation outside the walls, the county seat itself was bustling with clamor. Many townspeople poured into the streets, peering curiously down the main thoroughfare. The avenue ran straight through the county seat from inside to outside, leading directly to the county yamen. At this moment, several dozen constables lined both sides, clearing the area and driving people back. Yet the more fanfare they made, the more curious the townspeople grew—until they saw a prisoner cart roll slowly out from the yamen, and only then realized what was happening. "So it's a street parade." "Strange. There haven't been any major cases in town lately, have there? Where did this prisoner come from, to warrant such grand spectacle as parading him in a cart?" The townsfolk buzzed with discussion. Before long, however, someone recognized the disheveled, begrimed convict inside the cart. "That prisoner looks awfully familiar... Isn't that Officer Liu from Danfeng Tower?" The moment those words were spoken, the bustling chatter abruptly fell silent. Only after a beat did someone whisper cautiously, "Danfeng Tower... You mean Officer Liu Ye? I heard that the unrest a few months back was carried out by him and a wandering hero together. A lot of constables died back then." More and more people gathered. Naturally, they all recognized Liu Ye. After all, he was a local veteran of the county yamen and the proprietor behind Danfeng Tower. In no time, the clamor swelled. Those unaware of the background began prying for information: "Why was Officer Liu arrested? Even if he did something wrong, he wouldn't be paraded through the streets in a prisoner cart, would he?" "You haven't been in town lately, have you?" Someone lowered his voice and said, "Haven't you noticed more than half of those damned black-coats from the yamen are gone? They all died in that unrest a few months ago." "I was in the shop next door back then and saw it with my own eyes. Blood everywhere! Bodies falling left and right. Supposedly it was done by a passing hero who heard about the autumn taxes and drew his blade to right the injustice. Even the magistrate was severely wounded." "The autumn tax?" The inquirer looked perplexed. "What does that have to do with us? Isn't that just squeezed from the common folk outside the walls? Those mud-legs don't even count as human." "That's true enough." "Still, thanks to that hero slaughtering so many constables, the yamen had no choice but to recruit new blood from among us respectable folk. My cousin became a constable just two days ago." "If that hero hadn't pulled off such a stunt, how could we have struck it rich?" "So that's how it is!" The inquirer came to an enlightened realization. "Then he truly was a hero! Even if he blurred the line between black and white, in essence, he did a good deed." Inside the prisoner cart, Liu Ye slowly raised his head. "..." Days without food or water had reduced him to the absolute brink. If not for the foundation of his perfected external martial arts, he likely would have breathed his last long ago. The myriad agonies left by severe torture continued to torment his body, yet surprisingly, his mind was serene, tinged only with a trace of regret. *What a pity. I wasted Young Wang's good intentions.* Ending up in this state, he could only blame himself for not fleeing far and wide back then. Instead, he had lingered over his homeland and chosen to return to take up an appointment in Changle Commandery. Looking back now, he had harbored some anger back then, feeling that Magistrate Xu Bingzheng had manipulated his subordinates with demonic techniques and was the one committing evil in the first place. Returning to Changle Commandery had also carried the intention of lodging a complaint with the commandery government to seek justice. Yet his notions had been far too naive. "Officials shield officials... always shielding each other..." While that thaumaturge who recommended him to serve in the commandery government—Madam Su's close sister—had been around, nothing had gone wrong. But the moment she left, the commandery government made its move. Or rather, the forces behind Xu Bingzheng did. And what was he but an old constable who had hardly stepped outside Longxing County his entire life? How could he possibly prevail against people who had schemed and plotted in the commandery seat for decades? Such an end was of his own making. Thinking of this, amid his self-mockery, Liu Ye could not help breathing a sigh of relief. At least during the time since his capture, he had not implicated anyone else. For the reason Xu Bingzheng had gone to such great lengths to drag him back from Changle Commandery was that he wanted to know why a thaumaturge had suddenly intervened in Longxing County's affairs, even directly deploying the Black Armor Battalion to garrison outside the county seat, and who was pulling the strings behind it all. *Yet I know nothing.* Liu Ye exhaled a breath tainted with the stench of blood. This was the one thing he felt he had done right: actively covering his own eyes and ears. The identity and origins of that thaumaturge? He didn't know. The reason that thaumaturge had intervened? He didn't know. Who was the mastermind behind the scenes? He didn't know. Because he didn't know, no matter how much torture he endured, he couldn't utter a single word—if he had known, he might well have obediently confessed. Fortunately, he knew nothing. The prisoner cart continued forward, escorted by the county yamen's constables, until it finally arrived at the grass market outside the walls, drawing the attention of the common folk gathered there. "It's Officer Liu... How could it be him?" "Why couldn't it be him? That Peeler Liu collected tribute in the grass market for so many years and bled the locals dry. It's only natural he got caught." "Save it! Officer Liu collected tribute, but at least he actually got things done. After he left, the new fellow from the yamen was even worse, and he didn't do a damn thing..." "By the way, why was he arrested?" "I heard from folks doing business in town that it has something to do with the hero who fought his way into the city a few months ago. The former head constable was killed by that hero too." The chatter grew increasingly clamorous and chaotic. "The former head constable? I know him! He came to our village to collect taxes... damned butcher!" "And Qian Village, does anyone remember?" "Of course I remember! It's right near my house. Every last soul slaughtered! The stench of blood hasn't even cleared yet, and the dirt is still red... If you ask me, that hero killed well!" The prisoner cart slowly drew near. In an instant, the commoner who had just spoken with righteous indignation had his mouth covered by onlookers around him. They dragged him backward while warning in hushed tones: "Shh! Do you want to die?" "What hero? Clearly a White Lotus Sect rebel! The county yamen has already posted notices. Who dares call him a hero? Do you still want your stall in the grass market?" Finally, the prisoner cart officially entered the grass market. The two yamen constables guarding the cart looked down coldly on all sides. Wherever their gazes swept, the common folk fell silent of their own accord. The murmuring diminished, and the silence grew ever more deafening. Until the first clever man spoke up: "Actually, come to think of it, saying Officer Liu... pah, calling this scoundrel Liu and that fellow from earlier rebels isn't wrong either." At last, murmurs rose once more, but the wind had shifted abruptly: "Ever since the autumn tax, which household isn't frying without oil, cooking without rice, living without salt? Life was hard enough as it was, barely held together by the grass market." "Yet this scoundrel Liu threw the county into chaos, and business in the grass market went downhill with it." "My family doesn't even know where tomorrow's rice will come from." Of course, amid the gradually unifying voices, a few dissenting notes remained: "What does that have to do with them? In the end, isn't it still those damned autumn taxes..." Yet as the prisoner cart approached, facing the glaring, predatory yamen constables, those dissenting voices were gradually swallowed into the sea of people. Before anyone realized, people began hurling things at the prisoner cart. An atmosphere of shared hatred gradually coalesced in the crowd. Though they lacked the courage to resist the yamen constables, they dared to vent their rage on Liu Ye in the cart... After all, Liu Ye had been a constable before too. Throwing things at him was no different. For a time, only curses and jeers echoed across the scene. Everyone took pleasure in the prospect of a constable being slain, singing praises in celebration. Witnessing this, the two constables on the cart revealed satisfied looks. Both hailed from wealthy, respectable households in town. Raised on meat and grain without want, they had diligently practiced martial arts, which allowed them to become constables when the yamen recruited anew. Coming out today, they also had a duty to fulfill. "Too many of these common folk have been dying lately, and they've been converging toward the county seat. To avoid unrest, we need to ease the pressure." "Brother Lin, care to take the lead?" The speaking constable chuckled. "I heard that you took the initiative to request this task of pacifying the common folk from the magistrate. I take it you've prepared for a long time?" "Brother Liu jokes." Lin Wenhai shook his head. "Hardly any preparation to speak of. Nothing more than parading the prisoner cart through the streets first to let these commoners vent their pent-up anger." "Then distribute grain for disaster relief." "Oh? Distribute grain?" Liu Fuguan looked surprised. "Feed these common folk rice?" "How could that be possible?" Lin Wenhai shook his head. "Rice is meant for humans. Feeding it to these common folk would be a despicable waste, wouldn't it? Just toss out some bran and chaff." After another moment, seeing that the prisoner cart was nearing the far end of the grass market, Lin Wenhai brought an end to their idle chatter. He strode to the front, circulated his vital qi and blood, and loudly announced the news of "disaster relief." The outcome was just as he had expected: cheers immediately erupted from the common folk across the grass market outside the walls. *Very good. The situation is secured.* Lin Wenhai nodded, knowing that after such maneuvering, the hearts of the common folk would be pacified, and conditions in the county seat would stabilize. Of course, these common folk would still die in the end. The only difference was whether they all died at once or perished slowly in batches day by day. From his perspective, the latter was naturally the least troublesome. After all, the former would stir up chaos, while the latter was far more manageable. Solving the problem merely with bran meant for livestock—when he returned to report his merits, the magistrate would surely think highly of him. *Oh, right. These common folk have suffered disaster, and as time passes, there will only be more outside the walls. The human training stakes my family uses for martial arts practice have mostly been emptied lately; striking empty air has no kick to it and can't hone a martial artist's ferocity. I might as well send men out here to buy a few sturdy ones. Call it an act of charity.* As his thoughts drifted, Lin Wenhai grew distracted. Only when a sudden touch of chill brushed his neck did he snap back to his senses. Looking up at the sky, he found that dark clouds had gathered thick and heavy without him realizing. It looked like rain was coming. Lin Wenhai suddenly felt a touch of cold. The surrounding townsfolk seemed to feel it as well, and for the second time, the clamorous voices fell dead silent. The prisoner cart continued forward. Wherever the cart had passed before, the crowd had parted to make way. But this time, a figure walked against the flow of the crowd and stood directly before the cart. "Who goes there?" Lin Wenhai frowned at the sight, his hand instinctively resting on his hilt as he looked at the handsome young man who had stepped out of the crowd. Yet he did not immediately shout for an attack. The reason was simple: though dressed in plain clothes, this man possessed an imposing bearing and a tall stature, clearly someone trained in martial arts. Moreover, his complexion showed no trace of starvation—he was obviously no common peasant. In that case, he was most likely a passing itinerant swordsman of the martial world. Possessing martial arts, there was no need to make an enemy of him over a condemned prisoner. Better to ask of his background first. With that thought, Lin Wenhai spoke again, cupping his fists. "Young hero, might I ask which sect you hail from? We are carrying out official business..." Lin Wenhai considered his phrasing polite and reasonable. Yet to his displeasure, the other man showed no intention of answering. Instead, his gaze bypassed Lin Wenhai entirely, landing upon Liu Ye inside the prisoner cart. At the same time, Liu Ye froze. Then his entire body trembled with agitation. The young man before him was so familiar, as if walking straight out of his memories, leading him to think for a moment that it was his life flashing before his eyes. Only after blinking several times did he confirm that this was no hallucination. Yet in the very next instant, he shook his head frantically, his hoarse voice thick with blood: "Go! Run, quickly!" He had no idea how the youth had survived that certain-death situation back then. But since he had managed to survive with such great difficulty, how could he throw his life away now? Yet after shouting that, Liu Ye regretted it. He wanted to change his words and plead for the youth to rescue him so they could flee together, but reason told him that carrying a burden like himself made running far impossible. When that time came, they would only die together. Rather than that, better that he alone died. After all, ending up here was his own fault, and the youth had already saved him once before. At that thought, Liu Ye gritted his teeth, simply lowering his head to avoid the young man's gaze, not daring to look any longer lest his resolve waver. *Drip, drop.* Unnoticed, a hazy drizzle had begun to fall from the sky. Raindrops struck the ground, lending an even more piercing chill to the air. In the next moment, the young man finally uttered his first words since stepping out from the crowd: "Rest easy, Master Liu. No need to hide." A simple sentence, yet it made Liu Ye look up in a daze, as though returning to months ago, to that rain that had etched itself so deeply into his memory. Back then, he had been pursuing White Lotus Sect rebels and learned that the young man had been caught up in the melee. Thinking the youth was surely dead, he had rushed to the scene—only to find the rebel's body cleaved in two, and the young man standing amidst the curtain of rain, smiling faintly at him. He had said the same thing back then. What was the next sentence again? At this moment, the scene in his memory overlapped with reality. Liu Ye's eyes went wide, and all that filled his sight was the frost-white gleam reflected off a blade. "The rain is heavy tonight. Just right for washing my blade."