Chapter 72: Entering the City Quietly

In the eyes of others, this young lord of the state was the very picture of dutifulness, braving the scorching sun to traverse every salt field, large and small, around Langya, and personally inspecting each village.

“Are you certain you weren’t mistaken?” Guo Yuan’s face was ashen as he stared at the trembling coachman prostrate on the ground.

“I’m certain, truly, absolutely certain.”

“Then why do the villagers have no recollection?”

The moment Guo Yuan arrived, he went straight to the village the coachman had mentioned, searching inside and out, but found nothing. He widened the search, and after several exhausting days, he and his men were spent, lips blistered from dehydration. In a fit of anger, he vented his frustration on the coachman, stringing him up and giving him a severe flogging.

“Maybe… maybe so many people pass through this village that the villagers didn’t pay attention.”

That was plausible enough. Guo Yuan sighed. This village sat on a busy thoroughfare; many fishermen came here to trade their catch and sundries, salt smugglers appeared often, and the place was almost a small marketplace.

His heart was troubled, and the coachman felt even more wronged. The last time he’d accompanied the steward to collect salt, they’d stopped at this village, where he’d happened to see Madam Wang passing by. He hadn’t recognized her at first, only found her face familiar, but it was only after returning that he suddenly remembered who she was.

So he’d mentioned it casually to the steward, never expecting the man to become tense, abandon the salt collection, and rush them back to Linzi—after which he’d been put under guard, forbidden to see outsiders.

He was at least a coachman, not low in the household, yet now he was sprawled on the ground like a dead dog. He bitterly regretted speaking out of turn and, had he the strength, would have slapped himself out of remorse.

“Back to the city!” With no other options, Guo Yuan could only return to Langya for the time being.

“So this is Langya?” Meng Di gazed at the crooked city walls and the simple gate, disappointment flickering across his face. He’d heard that most of Qi’s wealth came from the Eastern Sea, yet Langya, the great city by the sea, seemed far too shabby.

“Master, the city’s lord is also of the Tian clan. The young lord has made all the arrangements; we can enter at will,” Guo Yuan’s appointed guide stepped forward to explain.

Meng Di nodded, still unsure what Guo Yuan was plotting, but for now, he would simply follow instructions.

A drumbeat sounded from the city walls—Meng Di, an experienced warrior, immediately recognized it as the signal for a sortie.

Indeed, the gates swung open and several hundred guards charged out, forming ranks.

“Wait!” The guide hurried to intercept Meng Di. “I know the general in command.”

With that, he rushed from the group to the enemy line, calling loudly, “General Tian, I have news to report!”

“Who are you?” The commanding officer let him approach, feigning ignorance with a cold stare.

“General Tian, I serve the young lord of the Tian family,” the guide explained helplessly. Within the Tian clan, only Tian Chang was addressed as ‘young lord,’ so there could be no misunderstanding.

The commander pointed to those behind him. “Are these all members of the Tian clan?”

“They’re an out-of-town merchant caravan, friends of the young lord.”

“Hmph, this isn’t Linzi. What business does a merchant caravan have here? Are you perhaps salt smugglers?”

“No, no,” the guide denied, waving his hands. He moved closer and whispered, “The caravan has other important matters. The young lord sent word to the city commander already; you can confirm it with him.”

“That’s unnecessary. Men, arrest all these salt smugglers.”

“General, don’t ruin the young lord’s plans!” the guide cried anxiously, trying to intervene.

“Nonsense! Take them!” the commander barked. Armored soldiers immediately seized and bound the guide.

With a sidelong glance, the commander sneered, “You can keep the last lot company. The city lord has decreed that from now on, the main family is the main family, and the branches are the branches. Any meddlesome kin from the Tian clan are to be sent to the salt flats.”

So this was what passed for arrangements? Meng Di watched the guide being tied up, half-amused, half-exasperated.

The commander and his soldiers advanced, shouting, “You gather in force—bandits or thieves for certain! Surrender now if you wish to live.”

He wasn’t making arbitrary accusations; in Langya, the salt fields belonged to various clans, and outsiders were usually there to steal or plunder salt.

This was southern Qi, near the state of Ju, with easy coastal access for Wu as well. The city’s garrison was strong, their main duty being to protect the salt fields.

But a caravan of several hundred, brazenly entering with a Tian clansman as their guide—claiming they were here to steal salt was laughable. The commander merely wanted an excuse for extortion.

“Your kinsman seems shrewd enough, but his arrangements leave much to be desired,” Meng Di said wryly to Su’er. He hardly feared a few city guards, but he wasn’t here to steal salt, after all.

Seeing they were ignored, the commander grew angry and ordered the war chariots to charge. Langya had only two chariots in all; the city lord used the other himself.

From experience, the commander knew that as soon as the chariots charged, no matter how fierce the bandits, they would scatter. The rest was easy—arrest the stragglers, ransom them off, or send them to labor in the salt flats, which, incidentally, the clans were all complaining to the city lord about a shortage of workers.

“Fools,” Meng Di muttered, frowning as he nocked an arrow. The chariot was a light, two-horse model. After a few arrows, the reins snapped cleanly. Suddenly freed, the horses neighed and bolted. The commander and coachman, still bewildered, were flung forward by the chariot’s inertia, landing in a heap before Meng Di and his party.

The soldiers hesitated, unsure what to do.

“You must be General Tian? It seems your chariot isn’t very sturdy,” Meng Di squatted beside him, speaking gently.

“Go ahead and kill me! The city lord will avenge me!” the commander cried, his thigh broken, but still unyielding as he groaned on the ground.

Meng Di prodded his leg with the bow, drawing a scream of agony. Even after, the commander shouted to his soldiers, “Don’t let any escape! The city lord will be here soon!”

Now this was troublesome. Entering the city discreetly, as Guo Yuan had requested, was now impossible. Meng Di prepared to withdraw and reconsider his plans.

Just then, a group approached from the side. The leading chariot drew near, and someone called out from afar, “Is that you, Han?”

The voice was familiar. Meng Di focused his keen eyes and saw at once it was Guo Yuan.

As the chariot sped closer, Guo Yuan recognized him too, exclaiming happily, “Han, it really is you! What brings you here?”

“Guo Gongzi, what brings you here?” Meng Di echoed.

Both paused, then burst into laughter.

The commander recognized Guo Yuan and cried out for help, “Guo Gongzi, they’re salt thieves!”

“Silence! Han is an honest merchant—how could he be a thief?” Guo Yuan reprimanded sternly, glancing at Meng Di for confirmation.

Meng Di shook his head, indicating he had no idea what was going on.

Guo Yuan’s face darkened as he prepared to order his soldiers to withdraw, but just then another chariot burst from the city gate, followed by a large body of troops. The city lord stood atop the chariot, halberd in hand, shouting with forceful authority, “Who dares harm a member of the Tian family?”