"All right, Master Sun, lunch is on me. How about the newly opened Quanfu Restaurant? Their specialty, 'three-way rabbit', is supposed to be quite good."
"With a name that unappetizing, what kind of specialty could it possibly be?"
The meal turned out merry and delightful.
After seeing Master Sun home, He Lingchuan returned to the city garrison office and summoned the kestrel for questioning.
"You've been in Panlong City lately, haven't you?"
Woken by He Lingchuan, the kestrel sounded drowsy. As a diurnal raptor, it ought to be asleep at this hour! "Yeah, flew back and forth delivering letters a few times."
Everywhere else used carrier pigeons and immortal cranes to deliver messages; only Panlong City made it toil away running errands back and forth.
"Did you see General Red?"
"I did." The kestrel twisted its neck. "What message do you need passed along this time?"
"Where has General Red been over the past month?"
"Came back from the northern front half a month ago, stayed in Panlong City for nine days, and then headed back to the front."
"Is she all right?" He Lingchuan added, "She wasn't injured, was she?"
In the Panlong Realm, General Red had not shown herself in person, but had manifested her power into armor, lending it to him to contend with Nailuotian's avatar and Master Sanshui. Yet he could tell this had not been within the bounds of what the Dafang Pot permitted.
No matter how powerful General Red was, she still resided within the Dafang Pot. How could she openly defy the pot's will without paying any price at all?
Back then, the true form of the Hundred Faces Nightmare could not even evade two chains from the colossal red silhouette before being devoured by it.
"General Red?" The kestrel cocked its head. "She has a demigod's body; even if injured, she heals in no time. It's not like you don't know that."
"So she's been carrying on as usual?"
"Still slaughtering enemies by the score at the front, agile as ever."
It seemed General Red was fine. He Lingchuan gave an understanding nod, tore off some meat, and fed the bird a few small chicken legs.
***
Four days later, Baicheng Post Station.
On the southern trade route, this was the post station closest to the waters of Longchuan Lake, built right beside the dockyard.
Over a decade ago, when banditry ran rampant across Longchuan, the place had fallen into disrepair. Only after Panlong City took over the territory of Xiji did they rebuild Baicheng Post Station.
Even so, merchant caravans preferred detouring to passing through here, so Baicheng Post Station had not officially opened for business yet.
Only today was the post station packed with guests.
All of them uninvited guests.
Dozens of skiffs sailed out from Longchuan, their roofs and sides fitted with specially made plank armor to deflect arrows.
They circled halfway around before pulling into the dockyard, and more than a hundred men came ashore.
The scouts sent out ahead had already returned, reporting to the two leading men: "No ambushes in the nearby woods. There are around a hundred men in and around the post station. Butcher He is sitting right outside."
One of them sneered, "Hmph, quite the guts on him. Why not just drop him with an arrow and be done with it?"
Cutting off someone's livelihood was as heinous as killing their parents. At the mention of this man surnamed He, every soul in Longchuan ground their teeth in hatred.
"Keep your temper, Chief Xu," said the other. "Even if we do him in, Panlong City will just send another commander."
The group went on high alert, moving forward with mixed feelings. Just as the scouts had reported, the path was peaceful all the way, without an ambush in sight.
Before long, the trees parted, and Baicheng Post Station loomed into view.
The tables and chairs from inside the post station had been hauled outdoors, set against the scenic backdrop of mountain and water. A man sat at the table waving at them, beaming warmly as though greeting old friends.
This fellow was the dreaded Butcher He whom everyone in Longchuan spoke of with terror? Isn't he far too young?
The two leaders exchanged a glance, ordered the bandits to fan out and stay alert, and brought a dozen or so confidants forward with them.
Behind He Lingchuan stood only Hu Min and Door Plank; the rest of the guards were posted several tens of feet away as a show of good faith, without which the bandits opposite likely wouldn't have dared approach.
The two leaders walking toward him were a tall one and a short one, one fat and one lean.
He Lingchuan knew the tall, portly one was Tao Lin, chieftain of Qianjin Stronghold, while the dark, gaunt dwarf was Xu Zeshou, leader of the Globe Amaranth Gang.
"Chief Tao, Chief Xu, please, take a seat!" Two chairs were set opposite He Lingchuan.
Tao and Xu exchanged a look, shook out their robes, and sat down. The confidants behind them stepped forward, forming a semicircle around He Lingchuan.
Under their predatory glares, He Lingchuan acted as if he saw nothing at all.
Just as they took their seats, a sharp, piercing whistle suddenly shrieked beside them.
Tao Lin frowned, while Xu Zeshou flinched, nearly leaping to his feet before dropping into a solid horse stance to steady himself.
It turned out the cast-iron kettle on the stove had boiled.
Taking in every bit of their reaction, He Lingchuan lifted the kettle with a chuckle. "Ah, my apologies. This is an iron kettle special to the Mou Kingdom. A reed is fitted inside the lid, so it whistles once the water boils."
Locally, people used ewers to boil water, with wealthy households favoring porcelain, bronze, or tin. The specialty of eastern Mou, however, was cast-iron kettles: round-bodied with short spouts, rugged and solid.
Goods from eastern Mou were rarely concerned with novelty of style or delicacy of patterns.
He grabbed two teacups, which already had tea leaves resting inside. As the boiling water poured in, the brew swirled, releasing a warm, mellow fragrance.
Yet Tao and Xu did not budge.
Who would dare drink tea poured by the head of the government troops?
Xu Zeshou asked coldly, "You called us here—what do you actually want?"
"I hear Qianjin Stronghold's bayberry wine and the Globe Amaranth Gang's pearls are hot commodities out there," He Lingchuan said. "Personally, I'm quite fond of Qianjin Stronghold's bayberry wine. I serve it every time I host guests."
Qianjin Stronghold's wine went without saying; from Yuheng City to Baisha Bay, it received universal acclaim. The marshlands held by the Globe Amaranth Gang produced pearl oysters; if cultured properly, they could yield pearls the size of longans, though unfortunately not in large quantities. The old royal palace of Xiji housed a two-toned black-and-white pearl naturally bearing a taiji pattern—that, too, had been sold by the Globe Amaranth Gang.
He Lingchuan continued, "It is plain to see both chiefs are seasoned masters at doing business. In that case, I would like to propose a fine deal to you both."
Tao and Xu exchanged another glance and kept silent, waiting to see what medicine he had in his gourd.
He Lingchuan brought up a box from underneath and set it on the table.
Knowing the two wouldn't dare open it, he took care of that step for them.
As the box slowly opened, the two saw two oval medallions resting on a brocade cushion.
He Lingchuan produced his own grand commander medallion and gave it a slight wave, showing them that all three medallions were forged of the same material.
"Yuheng City wishes to retain both chiefs as guard chiefs along our Longchuan trade route."
"As what?" Xu Zeshou froze, wondering if he hadn't cleaned his ears in too long and was hallucinating. Tao Lin frowned as well.
"Guard chiefs?"
"Indeed." He Lingchuan had someone bring out a map of Longchuan and spread it flat, drawing two circles on it.
The two bandit chiefs looked down: the areas he circled were precisely their gangs' turfs along the trade route, colloquially known as their hunting grounds.
To avoid conflict, the medium and large bandit gangs of Longchuan had long carved up the entire southern route among themselves, leaving smaller outfits to scratch out a living in the cracks.
Baicheng Post Station, the meeting place He Lingchuan had chosen, fell right within Qianjin Stronghold's territory.
Of course, the authorities had never recognized such divisions of power. He Lingchuan traced them out quite bluntly: "This is Qianjin Stronghold's raiding territory, and this is the Globe Amaranth Gang's. Am I right?"
"..." Facing an official, neither wanted to answer such an awkward question.
He Lingchuan set the two medallions into the two circles respectively. "From now on, there will be no need for your gangs to raid. Simply set up toll stations and collect passage fees."
Wh-what?
Though the two chiefs fancied themselves men of the world, they were nonetheless shaken to the core by those words.
The confidants behind them also stared at one another in sheer disbelief.
Everyone's minds raced, struggling to process the news. Xu Zeshou ventured tentatively, "Does Commander He mean that from now on, we hold official badges and collect... collect protection money from passing caravans?"
"Chief Xu summarizes concisely. However, that isn't called protection money—it is called a road toll."
The two were struck dumb.
The so-called road toll was nothing more than the transit fees official authorities of various nations collected from caravans, wasn't it?
Water bandits often cursed over their drinks in private: how was that any different from what they did? Just because they lacked an official backing, if they dared collect that money it was called robbery.
Commander He intended to incorporate them and have them collect transit fees for Yuheng City?
Was this an amnesty?
Or was this hiring security?
Wildly fanciful!
"As things stand on the trade route, your gang brothers lick blood from blade edges, passing caravans live in fear and trembling, and my Yuheng City Army wastes time and effort patrolling back and forth—none of us are getting anything out of it." He Lingchuan lifted his cup and took a sip of tea. "We have to consider costs. The road tolls I collect all end up spent on fighting; hardly anything is left to enter the treasury, and sometimes I even have to pay out of pocket. You gangs play cat and mouse with me every day, yet you can't make much good money, and your expenses are higher than before. When you calculate it all, no one is profiting.
"Really, when it comes down to it, isn't it all about money? Let's simply do this: you collect the road tolls, no one has to fight and kill anymore, and we make peace and grow rich together. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"
Hearing this, Tao Lin finally could not help but speak up: "Why should we collect money for the authorities? How much does Yuheng City intend to dole out to us?"
In the past, the former kingdom of Xiji had also attempted amnesties—several times, in fact—but the terms offered were stingy to the extreme. At most, they were willing to give Tao Lin a minor county post, while his numerous subordinates were to be broken up and resettled all over the place.
The water bandits were uneducated, but they weren't stupid. This was an obvious ploy to divide and conquer, weakening their force, so naturally they refused.
Seeing history about to repeat itself, the two bandit chiefs kept their composure, but several confidants behind them could not suppress snickers of derision.
Still trying to pull this trick? We saw through your game long ago!
Dangling a minnow in hopes of landing a whale? What wishful thinking.
He Lingchuan acted as though he had not noticed their contempt. "The toll rates will follow official standards—neither higher nor lower. But the money collected—"
He paused, and once he saw everyone's attention locked onto him, he continued:
"—will belong entirely to you."
All, all of it? The bystanders couldn't believe their ears. Xu Zeshou's heart thumped hard a couple of times as well, and he exchanged several glances with Tao Lin.
Outwardly composed, he crossed his arms in a bargaining posture. "How much money can you even make off tolls? So many brothers need to eat..."
He Lingchuan cut him off. "How much money? Do you have any idea how sweet collecting road tolls feels?
"Everyone knows arson and murder bring fast coin. But doing that trade once or twice is one thing; do it too often, and the risks soar while the returns drop. Not to mention the mounting compensation paid to your fallen and injured—sometimes the loot you plunder isn't even enough to cover the handouts, is it?"
At the mention of this, the expressions of both bandit chiefs darkened.
Chapter 861