Chapter 29: Can Innocence Put Food on the Table?

"You don't understand, daughter!"

Qin Yanqiu bit her lip, her face flushing with heat. "Though the flag-officer of Tielin Fortress is a military man, he is no brute. Father, you know full well that the bandits in the mountains are kept by Magistrate Zhang, yet you insist on leading him into this... This muddy water will only grow murkier the more it is stirred."

"Silence!" Magistrate Qin slammed his hand against the stone table. "Are these filthy matters for you to question?!"

He gasped for air, catching sight of his daughter’s pale, frightened face, and slumped back down. "You lost your mother at a young age, and I... was I not just trying to save up a dowry for you? In this godforsaken borderland, if I don't scrape together some silver, how will you survive when I am old?"

"Why must Father associate with a man like Magistrate Zhang?" Qin Yanqiu stepped forward. "He smuggles iron ore and treats human lives like grass. Sooner or later, he will implicate you!"

"Implicate?" Magistrate Qin gave a bitter laugh. "Do you know who stands behind him? If I do not cling to his coattails, how can I hold onto this lowly seventh-rank position? Yanqiu, you have read so many books; why can you not understand..."

"Daughter only understands that before Mother passed, she told me to urge Father to 'neither be greedy nor corrupt, and to guard your original intent.'" Her voice trembled, and her eyes welled with tears. "But now, Father, you have forgotten it all..."

Magistrate Qin paused, letting out a heavy sigh. "Silly girl, what do you know... In this world, can integrity be eaten as a meal?"

He reached out to stroke his daughter's face, but she turned away to avoid his touch.

"Fine, fine. Tomorrow you shall go to the manor to stay for a while. Out of sight, out of mind."

"Father!" Qin Yanqiu stamped her foot in frustration. "Daughter is worried about you!"

"Enough!" Magistrate Qin suddenly raised his voice, though he dared not meet her eyes. "Go back to your room and rest. Do not interfere again!"

Watching his daughter's departing back, he grabbed the wine flagon from the stone table and took a long, hard pull. The fiery liquid burned his throat, but it could not suppress the gloom in his heart. How could he not know he was playing with fire? Yet, looking at the mottled plaque on the wall that read "Upright and Honorable," and feeling the new banknote from Magistrate Zhang in his sleeve, he could only dissolve his sigh into the wine, muttering to himself:

"Once I have saved enough, I will stop..."

...

It was well past midnight when he returned to Tielin Fortress. The blacksmith shop was still ablaze with furnace light, echoing with the sound of rhythmic hammering. Several apprentices, stripped to the waist and drenched in sweat, were practicing forging hoes and sickles.

There was too much to be done. The mining picks needed improvement, the arrowhead molds required redesigning, and even the wheelbarrows used to transport ore needed reinforcement. All of this required manpower. Skilled blacksmiths, stonemasons, miners... Beyond Old Man Zhao and a few half-trained apprentices, there was hardly anyone in the fortress capable of handling a task alone. To recruit more men, he needed more silver and grain.

"B-B-Big Brother is back!" Zhang Xiaonian, who had been squatting by the gate, saw the figures of Lin Chuan and Hu Dayong, and his eyes lit up.

"Big Brother, are you alright?" Wang Tiezhu stepped forward, asking with concern.

Lin Chuan felt a wave of warmth wash over him at the sight of these two brothers. Among the dozen new recruits from the same village, Wang Tiezhu and Zhang Xiaonian were the most diligent in their training. After spending time together, their distinct temperaments had gradually emerged.

Wang Tiezhu was tall and sturdy, honest and straightforward, always preferring to meet force with force during sparring. Last time, when he sparred with Hu Dayong and was brought down by a sweeping leg kick, he pestered Hu Dayong until he learned the move so he could use it on others.

Zhang Xiaonian was the exact opposite. Though he stuttered, his mind was remarkably nimble. A few days ago during archery practice, while everyone else was dutifully drawing their bows to the "full moon," he secretly adjusted his angle and managed to increase his range by ten paces.

"Tiezhu, go find a few brothers who are good at hunting," Lin Chuan instructed.

"Oh." Wang Tiezhu nodded and turned to leave.

Before long, five soldiers who had been hunters in their previous lives stood before Lin Chuan. Lin Chuan examined the five men by the firelight. They were all lean and wiry, their hands covered in calluses.

"Tiezhu, I have a task for you."

"Flag-officer, what is the task?"

"I give you two days to go to Qingyang Mountain and ascertain a few things..." Lin Chuan drew a simple map on the ground. "First, the number of bandits on the mountain; second, the location of their stronghold; third..." He detailed the intelligence he needed.

"Flag-officer, are we going to be bandits on the mountain?" one of them asked, confused.

"Bandits your grandfather!" Hu Dayong slapped him on the head. "We are soldiers! We are going to suppress bandits!"

Upon hearing they were to suppress bandits, the eyes of the men lit up like hungry wolves who had caught the scent of blood. The endless days and nights of training had long since brought out the ferocity in their bones. Although they had killed Tartars under Lin Chuan, that had been a death-defying business that still sent shivers down their spines when they thought about it. But bandit suppression? They could hardly wait.

"Flag-officer, when do we leave?" Wang Tiezhu cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing sharply. "My fists have been itching for a long time!"

"If they're itching, go scratch them yourself! What’s the rush?" Lin Chuan glared at him. "The bandit lair isn't going to grow legs and run away. Go and bring back the information first."

Qingyang Mountain was not close—about fifty or sixty miles away, a good half-day's trek. But without knowing the situation, charging in blindly would be like fighting with one's eyes covered. Lin Chuan sent them as scouts. In the Great Qian Dynasty, such scouts were known as "scouts," the true elite of the army. Regardless of the dynasty, excellent scouts required three traits: eyes as sharp as a hawk, agility as nimble as a fox, and a nose more sensitive than a hound.

Lin Chuan intended to add one more trait: brains.

Beyond the terrain and routes of Qingyang Mountain, the nearby villagers were the best source of intelligence. Three villages were scattered at the foot of Qingyang Mountain: Eagle Beak Village nestled in the northern mountain pass, Wang Family Ravine guarding the southern official road, and the most remote Sour Date Village, hidden in a mountain hollow, where the villagers had lived for generations by gathering herbs and hunting.

In just two days, he could grasp the situation in the vicinity. Taking advantage of this time, he could also study the stone grenades.

...

The next day, Magistrate Qin kept his word. Before noon, a grain transport team arrived slowly outside Tielin Fortress. The lead bailiff was arrogant, his nose in the air, followed by over a dozen creaking ox carts. The carts were piled high with five thousand pounds of millet, ten jars of fire-liquor, and two fat pigs that were grunting and squirming.

Lin Chuan stood on the fortress wall, watching the scene from afar.

"Squad Leader Hu, go and welcome them," he commanded. "Remember, tell the men to act sluggish."

Hu Dayong understood and grinned. "Understood."

Before long, the fortress gate swung open. Hu Dayong led a dozen auxiliary soldiers out, moving lazily. They yawned, their uniforms disheveled, looking like a group of sleepy idlers. Some even tied their belts while walking, their sashes hanging loose, their boots worn crookedly.

"Oh, thank you for your trouble, Officer!" Hu Dayong drawled, dragging out his words. "To think we would trouble you to come in person for such a small matter..."

The lead bailiff did not dare to be negligent upon seeing this. After all, these were military men, and the blades they carried were harder than the ones at his own waist. He puffed out his chest and pointed his riding crop at the grain carts: "Soldier, this is the grain ordered by His Excellency the Magistrate..."

"We know, we know!" Hu Dayong winked at the auxiliary soldiers. "What are you all standing there for? Didn't you hear the officer speak?"

Only then did the auxiliary soldiers begin to unload the cargo, moving at a snail's pace. Some deliberately dropped the sacks of grain to the ground; some staggered while holding the wine jars; and two men nearly broke into a brawl on the spot. Although the lead bailiff said nothing, a flicker of contempt appeared in his eyes.

On the fortress wall, Lin Chuan watched coldly. This was exactly the effect he wanted. Once this bailiff returned to report, Magistrate Qin would believe that Tielin Fortress was nothing more than a rabble.

Since the other side wanted to play a game...

Then he would wait and see how the show played out!