Hearing Thunder
As dusk settles over Qixia Valley.
After settling most of the personnel who could be relocated, the veteran officials still preferred to gather here to discuss matters.
The campfire crackled, and the leaping flames cast long shadows of the people sitting around it, flickering on the rugged mountainside.
Yang Sijian's wrinkled hands.
He gently stroked a warm, smooth jade pendant, an old relic from the former Eastern Palace.
His voice was deep, carrying a sense of worldly wisdom and vicissitude.
"The news has spread that Chen Qinian's 'upright official' persona has become even more convincing in the prefectural city. He has the people's hearts firmly in his grasp, and he can control them as easily as his own limbs."
Zhou Wenqing sat upright on a smooth bluestone.
His fingertips tapped lightly on his knees as was his habit, making a barely audible tapping sound, as if he were playing out an invisible game of chess.
The firelight illuminated his gaunt face, his eyes sharp as a hawk's.
"The Ministry of Works has been branded with shame by Chen Qinian and will certainly not dare to touch 'Shenji' again in the short term. The secret report from Vice Minister Yang of the Ministry of War came at the perfect time, hitting His Majesty's concerns in every sentence—border troubles! Military supplies! These are the foundation of the nation. His Majesty is young and may not fully trust Chen Qinian, but the chaos in Linzhou urgently needs stability. Introducing Shenji, this 'civilian force,' is the easiest and most effective way for him to silence public opinion at present. His tacit approval is already a done deal."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the silent, listening Chen Yan.
His voice was lowered, yet every word was clear: "As for the young master's identity... In his later years, the late emperor, deeply grieved and knowing the grave mistake made in the Crown Prince's wrongful conviction, issued an edict of self-reproach and exonerated the Crown Prince, posthumously restoring him to his original status. We old bones who were fortunate enough to survive were thus recalled from our places of exile. Although we no longer have our former glory, we have regained our freedom. This is the late emperor's act of atonement and also a rite of vindication for the court."
Yang Sijian nodded: "From a legal point of view, as the Crown Prince, if the identity of the young master is made public, the court has no grounds to harm him. On the contrary, it should treat him with courtesy and welcome him back to the imperial family."
Xuan Chenzi sat cross-legged, his whisk draped over his arm.
Hearing this, he spoke in a clear and ethereal voice: "However, fortune and misfortune are intertwined. The late emperor's exoneration was to vindicate the deceased, to comfort the living, and even more so to ensure his reputation in history. He... never knew until his death that the Crown Prince's bloodline still existed in the world, nor did he know that the Imperial Grandson had been living among the common people and had suffered hardships. This is the cruel trick of fate, and also where the variables lie."
A glint of light flashed in Yang Sijian's eyes as he picked up the conversation.
His tone was grave: "That's exactly right! If the young master's identity is revealed, the court will outwardly respect him, but how can those demons and monsters who framed the crown prince back then, those remnants who still occupy the court and hold great power, allow the young master to return to his position safely? They fear the truth, they fear being purged, they fear losing their power! They will spare no effort to eliminate them completely! That's the first point."
He extended his withered second finger.
"Secondly, His Majesty, although he is the young master's uncle, is still younger than the young master. He ascended the throne at a young age, and since then, the court has been controlled by several powerful ministers. His own foundation is not yet stable, and he certainly hopes for more support. The sudden appearance of a grandson of the emperor who has been living among the common people for many years, who has the title of the eldest grandson of the late emperor, and who is likely to be highly regarded by countless old ministers, is it a blessing or a curse for him? Is it an auspicious sign of the return of the imperial clan, or a variable that shakes the throne? His Majesty's thoughts are unpredictable, and the powerful ministers around him will do everything they can to instigate him! This is the second point."
Zhou Wenqing's light tapping fingers stopped, and he concluded, "Therefore, the young master's identity is a double-edged sword. On the surface, we have the talisman of 'innocence,' and we no longer need to hide like stray dogs—this is a legacy of the late emperor. But in secret, the danger is even greater than before! We are not afraid of the court's overt decrees, but we must be extremely vigilant against those hidden arrows! More importantly, we must never give anyone a handle to use against us, allowing them to seize any pretext for 'plotting rebellion' or 'intending to restore the monarchy'! The line between right and wrong is the line between life and death! Now, the young master, under the name of Chen Yan, is using the power of the workshops to actually benefit the country and the people, establishing roots in Linzhou, Qingzhou, and Hongzhou, accumulating strength, showing himself as a 'merchant,' and concealing his true power—this is the best strategy. Chen Qinian wants to borrow our power, so why can't we borrow his shell?"
Xuan Chenzi nodded, his gaze fixed intently on Chen Yan.
"Young Master's fortune is already set; though the purple aura is hidden, its power is already rising. A hidden dragon should not be used, for it may leap from the abyss. Linzhou is the abyss where Young Master is gathering his strength. Chen Qinian, this chess piece, if used well, will be the stepping stone for Young Master to enter the inner sanctum; if used poorly, he can be discarded at any time. But right now, this 'cooperation' situation is of great benefit to Young Master!"
Shen Yan stood quietly to one side, his dark brocade robe gleaming faintly in the firelight, the bright feather in his hair remaining perfectly still.
His face was calm, and his peach blossom eyes reflected the dancing flames as he absorbed all the analysis from the three old ministers.
The late emperor's exoneration indeed gave him an invisible shield.
But what followed was a more complex and dangerous political vortex.
He had no intention of fighting, so this is for the best.
He nodded slightly, his voice calm and even.
“I understand. Aversion is aversion. The workshop is the foundation. Linzhou is the chessboard. As for identity… the greatest weapon is when the time is not right.”
He doesn't need empty fame; what he needs is real strength, enough to protect himself.
The wind in the valley, carrying the chill of an autumn night, swept over the campfire, causing the embers to flicker.
The next day, in the back hall of the prefectural government office in Linzhou city.
The air was stagnant, heavy as lead, and suffocating.
Beneath the high-hanging plaque that reads "A Clear Mirror Hangs High," the light is dim, as if even the air has stopped moving.
The newly hired coroner was a middle-aged man with a face as taut as a drum and eyes that darted around like a mouse.
He was pointing at several corpses covered with pale white burlap, his voice deliberately lowered.
"...The wound was narrow and deep, with irregularly torn edges, which was not caused by an ordinary sharp weapon, but was indeed left by a specially made curved knife."
His withered fingertips trembled slightly as he traced a fatal wound with torn, pale flesh.
"This design, including its curvature, blade, and barb, is highly consistent with the 'tiger tooth blade' commonly used by the Eshui Gang to kill without drawing blood."
Inside the hall, several officials held their breath and lowered their heads, their foreheads beaded with cold sweat.
No one dared to utter a single word of doubt, and they even deliberately slowed their breathing.
In the corner, a fly, oblivious to its fate, buzzed futilely against the tightly closed window frame.
That monotonous, piercing sound became the only accompaniment in the deathly silence, adding to the eeriness.
On the same day, at the back mountain of Ciyun Temple.
A woodshed, almost blending into the mountainside and deeply hidden by withered vines and fallen leaves, was discovered by a yamen runner who was "accidentally" patrolling the mountain.
As you break open the rotten, moss-covered door, a strong smell of mildew mixed with the earthy odor of dust hits you.
The choking caused people to back away repeatedly.
A faint light shone in, illuminating a dark figure huddled in the corner of the woodshed—
A mute coachman, covered in filth, dressed in rags, and trembling like a leaf.
A gruesome new scar clung to his neck, the flesh gaping open, not yet fully scabbed over, like an ugly centipede coiled up, silently recounting a harrowing, life-or-death night. He was dragged out of the darkness by the ruthless constables, exposed to the bright sunlight, his cloudy eyes instantly filled with the despair of impending death, and a hoarse, incoherent whine escaped his throat.
The mute groom was taken to the signing room of the government office.
Terrified, he trembled so much under the imposing pressure of the courtroom that he could barely hold his pen.
His trembling hands, like a candle flickering in the wind, dipped in cheap ink and made crooked, broken strokes on rough scrap paper.
"Night...warehouse...E'shui River...Black Tiger...speak...kill..."
A few fragmented and blurry words, as if squeezed out with all their might.
Barely pieced together, a chilling image pointing to a bottomless abyss—
One night, he unexpectedly witnessed a ruthless bandit from the Eshui Gang, nicknamed "Black Tiger," plotting in hushed tones with the steward in charge of the storeroom at Ciyun Temple in the eerie shadows of the storeroom! Before the ink was even dry, the thick, impenetrable atmosphere of despair had already permeated the entire signing room like a cold, venomous snake, sending a chill down the spines of everyone present.
Following closely behind, in the west of the city.
A cellar abandoned for many years, so bad that even stray dogs avoid it like the plague.
It was "accidentally" discovered by several "righteously indignant" and "warm-hearted" villagers, who then "righteously" reported it.
The constables pinched their noses, enduring the pungent musty smell, rotten odor, and ubiquitous cobwebs emanating from the depths of the cellar, and with great effort finally managed to break through the iron lock that had long been rusted shut and seemed to be welded on.
Deep inside the cellar, the light was dim, illuminated only by flickering torches. In a corner, amidst the filth of scattered tattered sacks, rotten straw mats, and a thick layer of rat droppings, a sharp-eyed constable kicked aside the clutter and pulled out an account book with large patches of dark brown stains, a stiff cover, and curled edges!
Turning the heavy pages, the dense numbers and entries crawled into my eyes like poisonous insects, a shocking sight!
Smuggled salt, pig iron, refined copper... were all on the list!
What's even more chilling and spine-chilling are the entries recorded in cryptic codes:
"Young child", "young girl" (girl who has not yet reached marriageable age), "boy" (young boy)!
Large sums of money from dubious sources were being transferred in.
Like a greedy black hole, its final destination is marked only by two vague and enigmatic words—"the superiors."
The dark brown stains, in the dim, flickering torchlight, took on a nauseating dark red hue, exuding a heavy, unyielding rusty stench, much like dried, congealed, once-hot blood!
It silently tells the story of how many innocent lives may have been lost behind this ledger!
Three heavy blows from different directions, yet linked together!
Like three red-hot irons, they were smashed into the seemingly calm but actually turbulent oil pot of Linzhou Prefecture!
Instantly, chaos erupted!
Teahouses and taverns, streets and alleys.
Yesterday, they were just whispering amongst themselves, exchanging surprised glances.
Today, it's like a powder keg that's been lit, and it's about to explode!
It turned into angry roars, mournful cries, and hysterical curses!
"Damn beast! This is a sacred Buddhist sanctuary!"
How could such a heinous act be committed right under the nose of a Bodhisattva?!
An elderly woman with white hair beat her chest and stomped her feet, crying so hard she almost fainted.
She once devoutly burned incense and prayed to Buddha at Ciyun Temple, praying for the safety of her children and grandchildren.
"The Eshui Gang! Those beasts deserve to be torn to pieces!"
"Lord Chen should have ground them to dust back then! Leaving their corpses exposed for three days and feeding them to the dogs would have been too lenient!"
One by one, the men waved their fists, veins bulging on their necks.
One of them had a brother whose family was destroyed by the Eshui Gang.
“My dearest daughter… Last year she said she was going to the temple to offer flowers to the Bodhisattva, and she never came back… My dearest daughter! My heart aches for you…”
A haggard-looking woman slumped to the ground, clutching a faded shoe pattern tightly.
She cried her heart out, her voice hoarse as if she were weeping blood.
"And what about all that iron and copper! Who are they selling it to? Are they the wolf cubs of the grasslands?! This is treason!!!"
A young scholar who had only attended school for a few days was filled with righteous indignation, his voice trembling with excitement.
The terror of collapsing faith intertwined with the grief and anger of loved ones being harmed and families being torn apart, flowing like molten lava through the streets and alleys of Linzhou Prefecture. Especially those parents who had desperately searched for their missing children, whose tears had long since dried and whose hearts were filled with despair, were now ignited by this bloody truth, fueling their final frenzy!
"Slaughter the entire Eshui Gang!"
"Find the wicked nun of Ciyun Nunnery! Burn down that den of thieves!"
"And who is that 'superior' listed in the ledger?! Come out and pay with your life!"
Angry roars echoed, collided, and reverberated through the narrow streets—
They converged into a scorching, violent torrent, powerful enough to incinerate everything, and raged against the heavy vermilion gate of the government office!
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