Snow had only just stopped, and the skies over Ji Prefecture were finally beginning to clear.

Thin bamboo blinds hung beneath the eaves to block the wind. Through the narrow gaps between the woven slats, several branches of winter plum blossoms could vaguely be seen budding within the courtyard.

Muted voices drifted from the discussion hall.

Beneath the corridor steps, guards in full armor stood in orderly rows like flying geese, spears in hand, faces stern.

Then suddenly, the sound of clashing weapons erupted from outside the main gates.

“Who goes there? How dare you trespass into Ji Prefecture’s government offices!”

Hearing the commotion, some of the inner guards remained stationed outside the council hall while others rushed toward the front gate with blades and halberds.

But the intruders were also heavily armed soldiers clad in iron armor.

One of Ji Prefecture’s guards was kicked flying by the leading general in scale armor, crashing backward several meters.

The man’s eyes blazed with hostility.

“He Jingyuan! Get your ass out here!”

The officials emerging from the discussion hall all changed expressions upon seeing him.

Only Zheng Wenchang immediately barked:

“Insolence! How dare you directly call the Prefect by name!”

Wei Xuan sneered, paying him no mind whatsoever.

As he strode toward the hall with sword in hand, Zheng Wenchang’s blade slid three inches from its sheath.

Just as the two sides were about to clash, a calm and steady voice sounded from within the hall.

“Wenchang. Stand down.”

Zheng Wenchang glanced back once. Though he sheathed his blade again, his glare toward Wei Xuan remained fierce.

Wei Xuan’s lips curled upward.

Without warning, he slashed directly at Zheng Wenchang.

Zheng Wenchang dodged hurriedly while the surrounding civil officials cried out in alarm and scrambled away in panic, creating utter chaos.

Seated steadily in the place of honor, He Jingyuan finally spoke:

“Did the Young Master come all this way merely to bully the officials under my command?”

There was unmistakable disappointment in his eyes.

Wei Yan may have monopolized court authority, but during the decade-plus of his rule, the war-torn Great Yin had at least been allowed to recover and rebuild. Though suspicious by nature, Wei Yan had always excelled at employing capable men.

How had Wei Yan’s son become such an impulsive and glory-hungry fool?

Seeing the look in He Jingyuan’s eyes only enraged Wei Xuan further.

Like a hyena baring bloody fangs, he pointed his sword at Zheng Wenchang.

“One of your dogs dares bark at this general? Or is it that you, He Jingyuan, no longer place the Wei family in your eyes?”

He Jingyuan replied calmly:

“The Chancellor showed me great favor and entrusted Ji Prefecture to my care. How could I possibly fail to place the Wei family in my eyes?”

Then he slowly lifted his gaze.

“Or perhaps… what the Young Master truly means is that I have failed to place you in my eyes?”

Wei Xuan’s fury exploded instantly.

“Bold bastard! Men—throw him into prison!”

The armored guards behind him stepped forward, but Zheng Wenchang and the other military officers all drew their blades to block the way.

The atmosphere immediately became explosive.

Yet He Jingyuan’s tone remained even.

“I am a third-rank court official. Even if the Young Master wishes to imprison me, you must first bring an imperial decree.”

Wei Xuan sneered.

“War is imminent. You obstruct military affairs. That crime alone is enough for this general to execute first and report later!”

He Jingyuan asked evenly:

“And what military affairs have I obstructed?”

Wei Xuan stabbed a finger toward the outside.

“The soldiers of Hui Prefecture are shedding blood on the front lines while supplies run short. We ordered grain levies from Tai and Ji Prefectures, yet not only did you refuse to comply—you arrested the soldiers I sent to collect grain! He Jingyuan, are you so eager to see Hui Prefecture fall to the rebels too?”

He Jingyuan replied:

“The defeats Young Master suffers on the battlefield should not be borne by the common people. If Hui Prefecture remains on the defensive, it can hold until the court grain arrives. Your insistence on immediate grain levies is merely because you want to launch another assault on Chong Prefecture as quickly as possible. Do the lives of the people in these two prefectures mean nothing to you?”

Wei Xuan snapped:

“How could there possibly be insufficient grain? Those filthy peasants simply refuse to hand it over! Tai Prefecture claimed the same thing before—and in the end didn’t they still gather one hundred thousand shi?”

At the mention of Tai Prefecture, grief surfaced in He Jingyuan’s expression.

“Beating people to death and seizing next year’s seed grain—is that what the Young Master calls grain collection?”

Wei Xuan replied coldly:

“So long as the rebels are destroyed, the entire northwest can enjoy peace afterward. A moment of suffering in exchange for long-term stability—what’s wrong with that?”

He Jingyuan asked:

“Does the Young Master understand how many lives lie behind that ‘moment of suffering’? How many scholars in the capital will condemn the Chancellor once this reaches the court?”

Wei Xuan’s face twisted viciously.

“Once the rebels are destroyed, none of that will matter! The rebels know Hui Prefecture’s grain routes are severed. They won’t expect an attack so soon after Chong Prefecture’s campaign. If I strike immediately, I can catch them off guard! Once I earn military merit, all criticism will vanish!”

He Jingyuan let out a long sigh.

“Young Master, please heed this official’s advice. This realm belongs to the people of Great Yin. Matters have not yet reached the point of no return. Do not push the people this far. Do not chill the hearts of the realm.”

Wei Xuan merely snorted.

“Womanly mercy.”

Then he said ruthlessly:

“If you continue obstructing me, I will exercise the authority of the regional commander and strip you of your official seal!”

He Jingyuan stared at him quietly for several moments before slowly removing his official hat.

“Then Young Master may confiscate my seal.”

Zheng Wenchang and the others immediately cried out:

“Prefect, no!”

Wei Xuan had always been arrogant and incapable of tolerating opposition.

Hearing those words only made him laugh coldly.

“The court keeps saying Xie Zheng was the pillar of the northwest. Yet now that he’s gone, isn’t the northwest still standing perfectly fine?”

He stepped forward and snatched the Ji Prefecture seal from the desk.

“He Jingyuan, if you truly thought I wouldn’t dare seize your seal, then you think far too highly of yourself.”

Raising the seal high, he barked orders toward the officials below:

“Begin collecting grain immediately! If I do not see one hundred thousand shi by noon tomorrow, prepare your heads instead!”

The officials exchanged miserable looks, none daring to answer.

At the head seat, He Jingyuan slowly closed his eyes.

—

When news of another grain levy reached Lin’an Town, the townspeople fell into despair.

Fan Changyu still didn’t fully understand what had happened.

Only after going to the county city to deliver meat to the plump shopkeeper and Yixiang Tower did she hear the rumors.

The righteous Prefect He had been stripped of authority and placed under guard.

Citizens in the main city of Ji Prefecture had gathered in huge crowds outside the government offices in protest, and over a hundred people had already been thrown into prison.

After severe military suppression, the people no longer dared riot openly.

But the amount of grain being demanded from each household was horrifying.

Farmers had already surrendered even their seed grain and still couldn’t meet the required quotas.

The officials’ solution was simple:

If you lacked grain, then pay silver instead.

And if you had no silver?

Borrow it. Steal it. That was none of the government’s concern.

All they needed to do was keep applying pressure.

Many desperate farmers simply abandoned their homes and became bandits.

The soldiers bullied the weak and feared the strong—swaggering before defenseless commoners while avoiding actual mountain brigands whenever possible.

When insufficient grain and money could be squeezed from farmers, the officials turned toward merchants and townspeople instead.

Each household now had to pay one tael of silver per person.

Fan Changyu’s family of three therefore owed three taels.

The entire town exploded in outrage.

In the past, exemption from military conscription had only cost two taels per person.

Now even the “grain levy fees” exceeded that amount.

For poor families with many children, this was nothing less than driving them to death.

One household directly bought poison, mixed it with water before the officials, and announced that if the government continued forcing them, then the entire family would rather die together.

Fan Changyu could still manage the three taels now that she had stable business income.

But throughout the town were countless families just like her own had once been—people who couldn’t scrape together that much money even if they emptied their entire homes.

The townsfolk eventually gathered together and knelt outside the county offices in protest.

The magistrate never once appeared.

Hearing story after story like this left Fan Changyu feeling unbearably heavy-hearted.

That evening, no matter how she tried, she couldn’t focus on the Analects in her hands.

Turning her head, she looked toward Xie Zheng instead.

He sat quietly making annotations across the pages of a book, expression calm and composed, seemingly untouched by the chaos outside.

Pressing her lips together, she finally said:

“The government’s grain collection this time… they really aren’t treating people like human beings.”

Xie Zheng’s brush never paused.

“The government itself would never charge one tael per person.”

There was a faint coldness hidden beneath his tone.

Fan Changyu frowned.

“What do you mean they wouldn’t? Weren’t the officials themselves the ones collecting the money door to door?”

Only after finishing his annotation did Xie Zheng finally set down the brush.

“There are eight hundred thousand people across Ji Prefecture. One tael per person means eighty million taels collected total.”

He continued evenly:

“Last autumn, grain sold for only seven or eight hundred copper coins per shi. Even with wartime inflation, it still hasn’t exceeded one tael per shi. Eight hundred thousand taels could purchase at least eight hundred thousand shi of grain.”

Then his eyes darkened with frightening coldness.

“This levy is only meant as emergency relief for the front lines. They do not need anywhere near that much.”

Even Wei Xuan, stupid as a pig, wouldn’t truly dare force Ji Prefecture to provide eight hundred thousand shi.

He only wanted to seize grain quickly and launch another surprise attack on Chong Prefecture before Wei Yan stripped him of military command.

Twenty thousand shi would already suffice to survive until imperial grain arrived.

Ten thousand had already been extorted from Tai Prefecture.

Ji Prefecture only needed another ten thousand.

Demanding eighty thousand instead was no different from outright robbery.

Push the people too far, and they might rise up and defect directly to the rebel king of Chong Prefecture.

After hearing his calculations, even Fan Changyu felt the entire grain collection scheme sounded absurd.

Yet confusion still lingered.

“But the soldiers really are personally collecting the money. It can’t be that they’re bold enough to extort extra on purpose, can it?”

Xie Zheng replied:

“The soldiers wouldn’t dare. Their superiors might.”

Corruption within the court had long become commonplace.

Whenever the Ministry of Works repaired roads or canals—or disaster relief funds were distributed—money passed through countless officials’ hands, each layer shaving away its own portion until only scraps reached the people.

Taxation worked the same way.

The court’s official rates were strict law, but local officials could always invent additional fees to enrich themselves.

Fan Changyu wasn’t stupid.

Hearing this, her fists tightened immediately.

“You mean… it could be the county magistrate? Or even higher officials squeezing the people dry?”

Xie Zheng replied:

“See how much neighboring counties are collecting, and you’ll know.”

Fan Changyu nodded at once.

“Tomorrow when I go deliver goods to the county city, I’ll ask travelers from other counties if I meet any.”

If the neighboring counties weren’t charging as much, then Qingping County’s magistrate was clearly using the grain levy as an excuse to enrich himself.

Xie Zheng simply nodded.

Fan Changyu was already yawning heavily by then.

Yet he picked up his brush again, clearly intending to continue annotating the books.

Looking at his cold profile illuminated by candlelight, she couldn’t help saying:

“Don’t write too late. It’ll ruin your eyes. You can continue tomorrow.”

Xie Zheng answered with a quiet “Mm,” but his brush never stopped.

He had originally believed He Jingyuan capable of restraining Wei Xuan.

Instead, He Jingyuan had been overpowered by him.

After pondering the reasons, a trace of ridicule surfaced in Xie Zheng’s cold dark eyes.

The two hundred thousand shi of grain Zhao Xun purchased had already been secretly transferred to Xie Zheng’s own men.

He Jingyuan’s people could not locate it and likely suspected Xie Zheng’s involvement. That was probably why He Jingyuan had deliberately allowed Wei Xuan to continue—hoping to force Xie Zheng to reveal himself.

So much for the famed Confucian general who loved the people like his own children.

The news of his “death” had already spread for so long, and the northwest had descended fully into chaos.

At such a critical moment, they absolutely could not allow the Northern Di tribes to seize the opportunity.

He had to return.

As neat, upright characters flowed from his brush, the shadow she cast across the desk entered the corner of his vision.

Without looking up, he suddenly asked:

“Your birthday is this month. What do you want?”

Fan Changyu blinked.

Only after a moment did she understand what he meant.

“I appreciate the thought, but my parents only passed away before the New Year. I won’t celebrate my birthday this year.”

Xie Zheng’s brush paused slightly.

“Then make a wish instead. Consider it a birthday gift for the future.”

Fan Changyu frowned.

“That sounds strange. Future birthday gifts can be given in the future. Why say it now…”

Halfway through speaking, she abruptly stopped.

Her gaze shifted toward the densely annotated pages before him.

The smile slowly faded from her face.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”