Chapter 22: Why do you bring up the Assistant General?

The crowd stood dumbfounded.

Er-Gou, having been praised by the General just yesterday, was brimming with the confidence of a bull. He notched an arrow, let out a cold snort, and said, "Squad Leader, stop wasting your breath on them. Just say the word—who do I shoot?"

"Er-Gou! Put that bow down!"

Lin Chuan shot him a look, then turned to the estate overseer with a smirk. "The cousin of Assistant General Zhang? I’m just a lowly errand-runner. The General ordered me to take over this mine, and I don’t know any Assistant General Zhang! If you’ve got the nerve, go to the garrison city and argue your case with General Chen."

The overseer’s face turned from green to pale. He looked at the murderous-looking border soldiers behind Lin Chuan, then back at his own tenants armed only with hoes and clubs, and his spirit finally broke.

"Fine, you win! Let’s go!"

With a wave of his hand, he led his men and the tenants in a hasty retreat.

"Squad Leader, look!" Zhang Xiao-Nian pulled back a straw mat covering the mining site. Beneath it lay a literal mountain of dark red iron ore. "With this much ore, imagine how many arrows we can forge!"

Lin Chuan ran a hand over the ore. The coarse powder worked its way into the crevices of his fingers, mixing with the sweat on his palms to form dark red grit. He stared at his hands and suddenly smiled—a smile laced with both ruthlessness and a sense of relief.

This was only his first move on the board.

Truth be told, before he met Chen Yuanshan, he had considered the most extreme path: sneaking into the landlord’s manor on a dark, windy night, slitting the old man’s throat with a dagger, and fleeing with Yun-Niang. He would have chosen mutual destruction over watching his beloved be forcibly taken.

Landlord Zhang was nothing but a fat, bloated local tycoon; the real obstacle was the great tree he leaned against. An Assistant General of the Prefectural Army held a sixth-rank official title, a man who could make the entire province tremble with a single stomp. Though they belonged to a different hierarchy than the border troops, their rank was undeniable.

As for Lin Chuan, even with the merit gained from suppressing bandits and his rapid promotion to Squad Leader in just a day or two, he was still merely a seventh-rank, low-level officer. There were still two or three rungs of authority between them.

But now, using the name of the border troops to stick a knife into Landlord Zhang—the very thought filled him with grim satisfaction. He looked toward the mountain’s base, wondering what the landlord must be feeling right now.

...

Ten miles below the mountain, a large estate of blue-brick stood out prominently. Three-zhang-high fire-prevention walls enclosed dozens of rooms, and the gilded mythical beasts on the sweeping eaves shimmered coldly in the sunlight. The plaque above the main gate bore the words "Hall of Accumulated Virtue" in gold leaf, more imposing than the signage at the county magistrate’s office.

Landlord Zhang was tucked away in his study in the east courtyard, his ivory abacus clattering. Account books lay spread across the sourwood table, densely recording the income from the west-side rice shop, the south-side cloth store, and the mountain mine. In the first half of the year alone, the pig iron from the mine had fetched six thousand taels of silver—enough to buy up two streets of shops in the county town.

He stroked his goat-like beard and chuckled, his finger tracing an entry: "Annual Tribute to Assistant General’s Office: 5,000 Taels." Money well spent, he thought.

...

"Master, a group of soldiers has arrived at the front gate. They claim to be from the border army."

A servant burst through the carved wooden door, startling the parrot on its perch.

"Border army?" Landlord Zhang frowned. He had only ever cultivated ties with the Prefectural Assistant General; why would he ever provoke these rough soldiers? "Prepare some silver. Don't come out until I call for you."

He set down his abacus and went out. At the main entrance, he saw a man in red-tasseled armor leaning against his newly painted vermilion gate. A dozen soldiers in battered, blood-stained armor stood behind him, looking fierce.

Landlord Zhang plastered a smile on his face and cupped his hands. "Officer, may I ask what brings you here?"

"Are you Landlord Zhang?" Pang Da-Biao, a straw stalk dangling from his mouth, squinted at him. "I am Centurion Pang of the Garrison City’s Elite Guard. By order of General Chen, that mine on the mountain now belongs to the border army."

Landlord Zhang paused. He recalled there was a General Chen at the frontier, but they had never interacted. This sudden claim to his mine was clearly just an excuse to extort protection money. He straightened his robes, assuming an air of gentility. "Officer, what is the meaning of this? I am a law-abiding citizen who has always supported the border army... but that mine is private property, backed by land deeds and official documents..."

"Deeds?" Pang Da-Biao sneered. "I don't care about your deeds. The frontier is in a crisis; the iron ore is being requisitioned for military supplies..."

"Centurion Pang, Centurion Pang—" Landlord Zhang stepped forward, smiling ingratiatingly. "Look at how harsh the sun is; it’s not easy for your brothers to make such a trip..."

He cleared his throat. The servant immediately appeared from behind the screen wall, carrying a pear-wood tray neatly stacked with ten ingots of pure silver. Pang Da-Biao raised an eyebrow, reached out, and snatched one ingot, tossing it in his palm.

"The border army has strict discipline. How could we accept your gifts?" He spoke slowly. Just as Landlord Zhang was about to press further, he saw the man shove the silver directly into his armor. "But since you have such a heart, I will accept it."

Pang Da-Biao waved his hand, and the servant quickly brought the rest of the tray forward. Another soldier stepped up and unceremoniously dumped the remaining silver into his satchel.

Landlord Zhang let out a sigh of relief. One hundred taels to send the border soldiers away—a small price to avoid disaster. He was just about to open negotiations regarding the mine when Pang Da-Biao suddenly clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"As for the mine, it's settled!"

"Ah?" The smile froze on Landlord Zhang’s face. "Officer, didn't you just accept..."

"Accepting your silver was a courtesy," Pang Da-Biao said, turning away with the straw stalk still in his mouth. "The mine is what General Chen wants; the silver was for my brothers. Can you really equate the two?" He glanced back, his eyes flashing with sharp light. "Or would you like me to return the silver?"

"No, no, no, no..." Landlord Zhang waved his hands frantically, his mind reeling.

"Good. I’m heading back." Pang Da-Biao turned and walked away.

Landlord Zhang’s eye twitched violently. By the rules of officialdom, accepting a gift meant tacit agreement. Who behaved like this Centurion Pang? As Pang Da-Biao went to cross the threshold, Landlord Zhang, driven by a desperate impulse, grabbed the strap of the man's armor.

"Looking for death?" Pang Da-Biao spun around instantly. His saber was drawn three inches, the cold light making Landlord Zhang’s neck stiffen.

"O-Officer, a misunderstanding!" Landlord Zhang released his grip abruptly. "I am... I am a cousin of Assistant General Zhang of the Prefectural Army..."

"Oh?" Pang Da-Biao’s eyes narrowed, his gaze pinning Landlord Zhang to the spot.

Landlord Zhang’s Adam's apple bobbed as he forced out the rest: "Assistant General Zhang... is my cousin’s nephew..."

"And?" Pang Da-Biao took a half-step forward. The guards behind him stood with arms crossed, some of them snickering.

Landlord Zhang suddenly realized he had overestimated the weight of the word "nephew." The eyes of the burly man before him were filled with the scent of blood. He remembered the steward saying that the Border Army’s Elite Guard was General Chen’s personal blade—a force that even local officials had to steer clear of, let alone a tycoon relying on an Assistant General.

"General Chen needs iron to forge weapons to kill the Tatars, so why are you bringing up a Prefectural Assistant General to me!" Pang Da-Biao suddenly raised his voice. "If you want to talk, go to the Garrison City camp and talk to General Chen yourself!"

"I wouldn't dare! I wouldn't dare!" Landlord Zhang bowed repeatedly. "Officer, how much iron does the border army need? I can send thirty loads every month... no, fifty! About the mine, could you please..."

"Fifty loads?" Pang Da-Biao scoffed. "There are thousands of soldiers in the border camp. What will your fifty loads of iron forge?" He grabbed Landlord Zhang by the collar. "Listen closely. I don't want your iron; I want your mine! By tomorrow at the hour of the Monkey, I want to see that iron ore piled like a mountain. If even one piece is missing..."

He let go. Landlord Zhang slumped to the ground, hearing the man toss back a final threat: "I’ll throw you into the mine shaft and use you as a human support pillar!"

The guards walked away, laughing. Landlord Zhang sat paralyzed on the threshold, staring at the empty pear-wood tray.

"Master..." the steward approached cautiously, "the mine..."

"The mine?" Landlord Zhang’s face darkened. "Send men tonight to remove all the support beams in the deep shafts. Even if the border army wants the ore, they’ll have to dig it out of a collapse!"

The words had barely left his lips when he ran into the dust-covered estate overseer, who came stumbling toward him.

"Master! The mine... the mine has been occupied by the border soldiers! They’ve hauled away all the ore and sealed off half the mountain!"

"What?" The jade cigarette holder in Landlord Zhang’s hand clattered to the ground, snapping in two.

"Master, they also said..." the overseer stammered, "...they said the mine belongs to the border army from now on, and if anyone dares get close, they’ll be shot into a sieve as a spy."

Landlord Zhang stood stunned for a long time. Suddenly, he grabbed his steward’s wrist.

"Quick! Prepare the carriage! We’re going to the Assistant General’s residence!"