Branding of government slaves
The mornings in Qixia'ao are awakened by the intense, almost overwhelming bitterness of the herbs.
The smoky aroma of burning mugwort and calamus, mixed with the dry, pungent smell of quicklime, hung heavily over the valley.
Like a thick cloth soaked in bitter water.
The three-day cleansing was like scraping the bone to remove poison, barely dispelling the lingering sweet stench of death, but the huge shadow cast by the ruins and the taut nerves in the air were far from over.
Inside the makeshift meeting tent erected at the valley entrance, the air was stagnant and leaden.
Ling Zhan, with his back to the entrance, gazed through the gaps in the simple oilcloth, landing on the silent figures working inside the valley—
The rudimentary structure of the house, cleverly reinforced from the ruins, the guards digging pits in hidden corners, the women clearing rubble and preparing to sow seeds on the sunny slopes… everything was progressing with difficulty under her planned strategy of “hiding in the wilderness.” Yang Sijian’s experience and execution were the cornerstones that made all of this possible.
However, a subtle gloom lingered deep within her brows, like the lingering mist above the valley.
“Madam,” Yang Sijian said, half a step behind her, his voice low and rough, “Last night, our outposts spotted tracks of an unidentified fast horse on a ridge several miles away. It stopped briefly and then disappeared. It wasn’t a hunter’s route; it seemed more like… reconnaissance.”
"knew."
Ling Zhan's response was calm and composed, his gaze still sweeping calmly over every corner of the valley.
Just then, a series of hurried but deliberately light footsteps pierced the deathly silence in the shed.
Little Stone, who was on lookout duty, darted in like a startled lynx, his face tense, his chest heaving, clutching a small roll of rough bark paper bound with grass stems, damp with cold dew and fresh soil.
"Mother! Aunt Su...a letter!"
His voice was so low it was almost a whisper, trembling uncontrollably, as he handed over the scroll of letter that carried the chill of the mountains.
The air inside the shed froze instantly.
Ling Zhan took the letter.
On the bark paper was a message written by Su Wan in extremely hasty handwriting, yet every word was as sharp as a poisoned dagger:
[A dramatic upheaval has occurred in Linshan Town! The Ministry of Works' street-cleaning squad arrives, armed with a "Conscription Order for Craftsmen," forcibly seizing all registered craftsmen and their families! Huo Heng opens his office to inspect the goods, cooperating fully throughout, and personally escorts them to the town hall to be handed over to the Ministry of Works' henchmen! Craftsman Liu Sanhe, with his wife and children, attempts to escape but is surrounded and captured by Huo Heng's yamen runners! His wife protects her child, pleading tearfully, but Huo Heng…coldly observes! A Ministry of Works centurion whips Liu Sanhe to death on the spot! His wife wails in grief and commits suicide by crashing into a pillar! His young son…is abducted! The remaining hundred or so, shackled and chained, are herded like cattle, their cries echoing across the fields…their whereabouts remain a mystery! Huo Heng's mansion gates are tightly shut, a sign hanging high that reads "Official Duties Completed." Su Wan tearfully reports this.]
Every word was like an icicle with barbs, piercing Ling Zhan's eyes and instantly spreading a chilling cold to his limbs and bones!
"Bang--!"
A deep, thunderous roar!
It was Ling Zhan's clenched fist, carrying immense force, that slammed heavily onto the thick wooden pillar supporting the roof!
The rotten wood shed choking dust.
Her knuckles were as white as bone from the extreme force, and the veins on the back of her hand bulged like dragons, trembling slightly uncontrollably.
A chilling killing intent, almost solidified, like the suffocating stillness of a volcano dormant for millennia before its eruption, silently swept out from her center! The temperature inside the shed seemed to plummet to freezing!
Yang Sijian and Xiao Shitou simultaneously felt an invisible force gripping their throats, and instinctively staggered back half a step, their faces turning pale.
"Huo! Heng!"
"What a fine 'local official'! What a fine 'cold-eyed bystander'!"
Her voice was squeezed out from between her teeth, icy and chilling, each syllable dripping with venomous hatred.
Almost simultaneously, a series of staggering, hurried footsteps, accompanied by heavy, bellows-like breathing, rushed in.
It is a deep-seated aversion.
He had clearly come running from the mud house where the young children were housed; his face was ashen, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
His eyes were filled with ominous fear.
"Ah Zhan...the letter...what did it say in the letter?"
His voice trembled brokenly as he practically lunged at Ling Zhan, snatching the seemingly light yet incredibly heavy piece of bark paper from his hand. His gaze, like that of a startled beast, swept over the hastily scrawled, blood-stained words: "Liu Sanhe," "whipped to death," "committed suicide by crashing into a pillar," "child abducted," "shackles and chains," "like herding cattle and sheep"...
"Ugh—!"
Shen Yan's body suddenly trembled violently, as if he had been struck hard in the chest by an invisible siege hammer!
The color drained from his face instantly, his lips trembled violently, but he couldn't utter a single complete syllable.
Liu Sanhe… that man who always loved to smile and boast about his youngest son who had just learned to call him "Dad," and who secretly slipped him freshly roasted sweet potatoes… is gone? His wife, who always smiled gently… is gone too? That babbling toddler wearing a tiger-head hat… was kidnapped?!
Those hundred-odd artisans and their families, who lived and worked together day and night... were locked up like livestock?!
"No...it's impossible...Huo Heng...he promised himself! He promised to treat them well and make sure they were properly cared for!"
Shen Yan abruptly raised his head, his eyes filled with immense, utterly crushed horror and boundless pain. He stared at Ling Zhan like a drowning man grasping at his last piece of driftwood, his voice hoarse as a broken gong, "How could he... how could he accept that they were treated like livestock! How could he break his promise and just watch them... watch them..."
"Watch them get killed? Watch them be torn apart by family, reduced to slaves worse than pigs and dogs?!" Ling Zhan mercilessly shattered Shen Yan's last shred of illusion. She stepped forward, closing in on the almost paralyzed Shen Yan, each word clear, cold, and heavy like an anvil striking, not only Shen Yan's heart, but also the very depths of Yang Sijian and Xiao Shitou's souls.
"Because Huo Heng, the Ministry of Works' rules of treating people like cattle and horses are etched into his bones! He is a member of the Huo family, born superior to others! In his eyes, artisans should be government slaves, property kept by the court! Resist? That's being ungrateful, a troublemaker, and deserves to die! His hypocritical promises were nothing more than condescending charity from a noble family!"
He didn't want to become a slave to the government—so he would use the most ruthless iron fist to uphold the cannibalistic ironclad rules of state-run enterprises!
She suddenly waved her hand, her arm pointing like a battle flag towards the valley—towards the figures silently toiling in the ruins, and towards the young child sucking his fingers and sleeping soundly in Aunt Wang's arms at the door of the earthen house.
"Look carefully! Shen Yan! Look at Qixia'ao! Look at these children and the elderly who escaped with us! From the day my Shen Family Workshop erected its signboard, it has only had contracted craftsmen who earn their living by their skills, and absolutely no slaves! Their parents, wives and children are all perfectly free individuals! The Ministry of Works treats people like grass, like livestock that can be whipped, plundered and slaughtered at will!"
Her gaze swept across Shen Yan's pale face like a bolt of lightning, across Yang Sijian's eyes filled with grief and indignation, and across Xiao Shitou's terrified yet gradually ignited anger.
A muffled "thump" was heard.
Shen Yan's last bit of strength was completely drained, and she slid down the rough wooden pillar to the ground.
He covered his face with his hands, and suppressed sobs, like those of a wounded lone wolf, escaped from between his fingers. His shoulders heaved violently; those were not tears of sorrow, but boiling rage like magma, boundless, heart-wrenching guilt, and a deep-seated hatred for his own gullibility in believing the hypocritical mask of a powerful family!
It's him!
It was he who pushed those artisans who trusted and followed him to Huo Heng, who endorsed the official slave system and was cold-blooded and ruthless!
Yang Sijian's aged face twitched violently, and his cloudy eyes surged with deep grief and indignation, as well as a chilling coldness.
He stepped forward, his voice heavy as lead weights hitting the ground: "Madam, Master... things have come to this. What the Ministry of Works wants is the craftsmanship and the people of the artisans; silencing them is not their intention. What Huo Heng did was to uphold his family's principles, to maintain the ironclad rules of state-run enterprises with an iron fist, and to deter resistance. Those artisans and their families... are probably... are probably already branded as 'government slaves' and are being taken to some dark mine or workshop under the control of the Ministry of Works. They may never see the light of day again in their lives."
Ling Zhan took a deep breath.
The icy air felt like a blade scraping against her lungs, forcibly suppressing the surging, murderous intent within her chest. She walked to Shen Yan, who was slumped on the ground, consumed by immense pain, and knelt down. Her gaze was sharp as a knife, piercing straight into his bloodshot eyes.
"Have you cried enough?"
Her voice regained its usual calm, "Can tears and regret bring back the lives of Liu Sanhe and his wife? Can they save those kidnapped children? Can they break the shackles around their necks?!"
Shen Yan suddenly raised her head, her bloodshot eyes, like spider webs, fixed on Ling Zhan's face.
In that bottomless abyss of pain, a sliver of almost insane flame is burning fiercely.
Ling Zhan met his desperate yet intense gaze, and spoke each word clearly and distinctly.
"Now! Shen Yan! Stand up! Wipe away your useless tears! Carve this heart-wrenching pain into every bone of yours! Want to change things? Want to save those who might still be breathing in hell? Want to shatter the brand of official slavery that is branded on the living? Then live first! First, turn this Qixia'ao into a thorny fortress that can protect these people right now! Want to die? Want to atone for your sins? When we kill our way back to Linshan Town, you'll have plenty of opportunities to kneel before Liu Sanhe's grave and kowtow until you die!"
Every word carried a scorching metallic stench, branding itself onto Shen Yan's heart.
The cold yet intense will in Ling Zhan's words violently surged and tore through his body.
A strange, beast-like growl escaped his throat, his body convulsing violently, tears mingling with the flames of humiliation and resentment burning in his eyes. He clenched his teeth, blood seeping from his gums, and with a sudden, forceful shove, he pushed away Ling Zhan's outstretched hand. Like a cornered beast, he used the last of his strength to stand up, swaying but incredibly stubborn!
He didn't look at Ling Zhan again.
Bloodshot eyes stared intently at the valley outside the shed, rebuilt amidst oppression, at the figures toiling away amidst the ruins, at the distant earthen house doorway, at the peacefully sleeping child in Aunt Wang's arms, oblivious to the overwhelming bloodshed and tears...
There was no crying, no words spoken.
He simply turned around stiffly and walked back step by step.
Ling Zhan watched him leave, then turned to Yang Sijian, who stood at attention awaiting orders: "Old Yang, pass on the order."
"First: All visible and concealed sentry posts on the perimeter are to be raised to Level A alert! Observation posts are to be doubled and equipped with binoculars. Within ten miles, any bird startled in the forest must be reported immediately! Those who delay will be subject to military law!"
"Second: The 'Tiger's Den' double-layered trap and the 'Snake Path' tripwire and poisonous caltrop array set up at the valley entrance and gentle slope must be sealed off at midnight tonight! The trigger marker is only known to the core guards. Anyone who leaks it will die!"
"Three: The 'Honeycomb' troop hiding places and 'Rat Tunnel' escape routes in the core area are being reinforced and completed in shifts day and night! The 'Eagle's Nest' watchtowers above the granary, medicine depot, and water source will be personally inspected by you! If even an inch is unstable, you will be beheaded!"
"Four," her gaze, sharp as a hawk's, fell upon the sheer cliff at the deepest part of the valley, a sheer precipice separating life and death, "'The Ruins of Return' is the final gate to life! The entrance must be disguised and the first section of the interior must be supported within three days! All necessary stone, wood, and iron tools, regardless of cost, shall be taken!"
"Fifth: All women and children, under the supervision of Suihe and Daniu, must do their utmost to ensure the planting of medicinal herbs in the small terraced fields! Potato seeds and seeds of herbs for dispelling filth must be planted immediately! The survival of this land depends on its food and medicine; there must be no loss!"
"Sixth," she said, turning to Little Stone one last time, her tone resolute, "tell every guard in the valley about the atrocities committed by the Ministry of Works as reported by Su Wan, and Huo Heng's ugly face of aiding and abetting the evil! Let them know that protecting every inch of Qixia Pass is the first step in drinking blood that could change the future!"
One command after another, clear, cold, and uncompromising, carrying the aura of iron and blood, came out of Ling Zhan's mouth.
Yang Sijian suddenly clasped his hands in a fist salute, his back ramrod straight, and all the cloudiness in his eyes vanished: "I obey!"
The hoarse voice was resolute.
He showed no signs of old age and strode out of the shed.
Inside the shed, only Ling Zhan remained.
Outside the shed, the sound of the valley suddenly tightening and accelerating due to this new and harsher order could be faintly heard, like a low war cry.
She walked to the edge of the shed, her gaze passing over the figures struggling on the brink of life and death. Slowly, she raised her hand and touched the hilt of the icy blade at her waist. The bone-chilling coldness emanating from her fingertips, like the waters of an abyss, finally cooled and compressed the raging fire in her heart that threatened to consume everything.
That cold touch silently speaks of the price to pay for planning for the future and... the patience to lie low.
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