Chasing Jade (Zhu Yu)

The snow had just cleared, and beneath the eaves of the Jizhou Prefecture office, fine bamboo blinds hung to block the wind. Through the gaps, one could faintly glimpse a few winter plum blossoms in the courtyard, their buds just beginning to open.

The murmur of conversation drifted from the main hall, while guards stood in strict formation along the corridor steps, armored and armed, their expressions stern.

Yet at that moment, the clashing of weapons erupted outside the gates.

"Who dares trespass upon the Jizhou Prefecture office!"

Hearing the commotion outside, some of the inner courtyard guards remained at their posts to secure the meeting hall, while others rushed out with blades and halberds to reinforce their comrades.

However, the intruders were also a squad of armored soldiers armed with spears and halberds. The leading general, clad in scale armor, kicked a Jizhou soldier so hard he flew backward.

Lifting a pair of eyes brimming with malice, the general roared, "He Jingyuan, get the hell out here!"

The officials who emerged from the meeting hall at the disturbance all wore expressions of shock at the sight of him.

Only Zheng Wenchang immediately shouted, "How dare you address His Excellency by name!"

Wei Xuan sneered, utterly dismissing him, and advanced toward the meeting hall with his sword drawn. In response, Zheng Wenchang's blade slid three inches from its sheath.

As the two were about to clash, a deep, steady voice came from within the hall: "Wen Chang, stand down."

Zheng Wenchang glanced back but, though he sheathed his blade, his furious glare remained fixed on Wei Xuan.

With a smirk, Wei Xuan swung his sword directly at him. Zheng Wenchang barely dodged in time, while the surrounding civil officials scattered in panic, their cries filling the air.

"Has the Eldest Young Master come here only to harass my subordinates?" He Jingyuan, seated calmly at the head of the hall, spoke at last, his gaze resting on the man below with a hint of disappointment.

It was true that Wei Yan monopolized court affairs, but under his decade-long rule, the war-torn Great Yin Dynasty had been able to recover and thrive. Though inherently suspicious, Wei Yan was also exceptionally skilled at employing talent.

How, then, could his son be such a reckless, glory-seeking brute?

Wei Xuan, provoked by that look, flared with even greater fury. Like a snarling hyena, he pointed his sword at Zheng Wenchang. "A mere dog under your command dares bark at this general? Or is it that you, He Jingyuan, no longer hold the Wei family in any regard?"

He Jingyuan replied, "The Prime Minister showed me great kindness. I guard Jizhou by his command—how could I disregard the Wei family?"

He raised his eyes slowly. "Or... does the Eldest Young Master mean to say that I have disregarded you?"

Wei Xuan's rage flared at his words, his face twisting into a snarl. "You have some nerve! Men, seize him and throw him in prison!"

As his armored guards stepped forward, Zheng Wenchang and the other military officers drew their blades and blocked the way, the two sides now locked in a tense standoff.

He Jingyuan's voice remained composed. "I am a third-rank official of the court. If the Eldest Young Master wishes to imprison me, he must first present an imperial decree."

Wei Xuan scoffed. "With war imminent, your obstruction of military affairs alone is enough for this general to execute you first and report later!"

He Jingyuan asked, "What military affairs have I obstructed?"

Wei Xuan, incensed, flung a hand outward. "The soldiers of Huizhou are bleeding on the front lines, their supplies running low. We demanded provisions from Tai and Jizhou, yet not only did you defy orders, you even imprisoned the officers I sent to requisition grain! He Jingyuan, are you so eager to see Huizhou fall to the rebels?"He Jingyuan said only, "The defeat suffered by the Eldest Young Master should not be borne by the common people. If Huizhou merely defends itself now, it can hold out until the court transports grain here. The Eldest Young Master's urgency in requisitioning grain is simply because he wishes to launch another attack on Chongzhou as soon as possible. Does the Eldest Young Master not care about the lives of the people in these two prefectures?"

Wei Xuan retorted sharply, "How could it be that grain cannot be requisitioned? It's simply that those lowly peasants refuse to hand over their grain. Didn't Taizhou also claim they couldn't requisition grain before? Yet in the end, they still managed to scrape together a hundred thousand dan!"

Mention of Taizhou brought a pained expression to He Jingyuan's face. He rebuked, "Beating people to death and seizing next year's seed grain for military provisions—is this what the Eldest Young Master calls requisitioning?"

Wei Xuan sneered coldly, "Once the rebels are exterminated, the entire northwest can recuperate. A temporary hardship in exchange for long-term benefits—what's wrong with that?"

He Jingyuan asked him, "Does the Eldest Young Master know how many lives in Taizhou and Jizhou prefectures are at stake in this 'temporary hardship' of yours? When the news reaches the capital, how many scholars and officials will denounce the Prime Minister in writing?"

Wei Xuan's face twisted with fury. "Once the rebels are crushed, what do these things matter? Right now, the rebels know Huizhou's grain supply line has been cut, making it impossible to launch another attack on Chongzhou in the short term. They've let their guard down. If I mobilize troops quickly and strike them by surprise, with military achievements to my name, all dissent will be silenced!"

He Jingyuan sighed deeply. "Eldest Young Master, heed this humble official's advice. This empire belongs to the people of Great Yin. We are not yet at the end of our rope—do not push the people to this point and chill the hearts of the empire's populace."

Wei Xuan only snorted. "Womanly compassion!"

He said ruthlessly, "If you obstruct me further, this general will exercise the authority of the Military Governor and strip you of your official seal!"

He Jingyuan gazed at him steadily for a moment before reaching up to remove his official cap. "Then the Eldest Young Master may take back this humble official's seal."

The officials led by Zheng Wenchang cried out in alarm, "My lord, you must not!"

Wei Xuan, ever obstinate and unable to tolerate defiance, laughed coldly. "Court officials claim Xie Zheng is the pillar of the northwest, yet without him, isn't the northwest still standing strong? He Jingyuan, do you truly believe this general dares not strip you of your seal? You overestimate your own importance!"

He strode forward and snatched the seal of the Jizhou Governor from the desk, holding it aloft. With a challenging glare at He Jingyuan, he commanded the officials of Jizhou Prefecture, "Go requisition grain for this general immediately. If a hundred thousand dan of grain are not delivered by noon tomorrow, bring me your heads!"

The officials below exchanged uneasy glances, their faces filled with reluctance.

He Jingyuan, seated at the head, closed his eyes heavily.

When the news of renewed grain requisitions reached Lin'an Town, the townsfolk all lamented their misfortune. Fan Changyu was unaware of the reasons behind it.

Only when she went to the county to deliver meat to the plump innkeeper and the Overflowing Fragrance Pavilion did she hear that Jizhou Prefecture had undergone a drastic change. The upright official surnamed He had been dismissed and placed under guard, while crowds of people from Jizhou's main city had gathered before the prefectural yamen to protest, resulting in over a hundred arrests.

Under the harsh suppression by the authorities, the people no longer dared to protest. Yet the amount of grain the government demanded from each household was truly staggering.

Farmers handed over even their seed grain, but it still wasn't enough to meet their household's military grain quota.

The solution offered by the officials was simple: if grain was insufficient, then pay with money.

But what if they had no money? Whether they borrowed or stole, it was none of the government's concern—their only task was to apply relentless pressure.

With no way out, many farmers simply turned to banditry.The soldiers were bullies who preyed on the weak. They could swagger before unarmed commoners but avoided provoking bandits and outlaws whenever possible.

Unable to collect enough grain from the farmers or extort sufficient money, the soldiers began going door to door in the town, squeezing merchants for funds.

Each household was taxed per capita—one tael of silver per person. Fan Changyu's family had to pay three taels.

The townsfolk were outraged. In the past, even military conscription could be avoided with just two taels per person. Now this grain levy cost more than conscription itself. For impoverished families with many children, this was practically driving them to their doom.

One household in town directly bought poison, mixing it with water in front of the soldiers. Each family member drank a bowl as they declared they had neither money nor grain left. If pressed further, they would rather die and be done with it.

Now that Changyu had a means of earning money, paying three taels wasn’t an issue. But many in town were like her in the past—families who couldn’t scrape together that much even if they emptied their savings.

The people spontaneously gathered to kneel in protest outside the County Government Office, yet the magistrate never even showed his face.

Hearing such news repeatedly made Changyu’s heart grow heavier.

That evening, holding the Analects , she found herself unable to focus. She turned to Xie Zheng and saw him calmly annotating the pages with a brush, seemingly undisturbed by the outside world.

Pursing her lips, she said, "This grain levy shows the authorities don’t treat the people as human."

Xie Zheng’s brush never paused as he replied, "The authorities wouldn’t collect one tael per person for the grain levy." His voice carried a faint, icy edge.

Changyu was puzzled. "How not? Didn’t the officials come demanding it door to door?"

Finishing his annotations, Xie Zheng set down his brush. "Jizhou Prefecture has 200,000 households and 800,000 people. One tael per person would amount to 800,000 taels of silver. Last autumn, grain was only seven or eight hundred copper coins per dan . Even now, with the war driving prices up, it hasn’t exceeded one tael per dan . Eight hundred thousand taels could buy at least 800,000 dan of grain. The frontline only needs emergency supplies—they couldn’t possibly require that much."

As he spoke, his dark eyes gleamed with a chilling coldness.

Even if Wei Xuan were as stupid as a pig, he wouldn’t forcibly requisition 800,000 dan of grain from Jizhou. His rush to collect grain was merely an attempt to strike Chongzhou while it was vulnerable after the war, hoping to regain favor before Wei Yan stripped him of his military authority.

To sustain until the court’s provisions arrived, 200,000 dan would suffice. They had already requisitioned 100,000 dan from Taizhou—Jizhou only needed to contribute another 100,000.

Demanding 800,000? How was that any different from outright robbery?

Pushing the people to the brink might drive them to revolt, even defecting to the Rebel King in neighboring Chongzhou.

After hearing his calculations, Changyu also found the authorities’ levy method absurd, yet she remained confused. "But it was the soldiers themselves who came demanding the money. Could they really be so brazen as to overcharge on their own?"

Xie Zheng said, "The soldiers wouldn’t dare. But those above them might."

Embezzlement had long been rampant in the court. Whether it was the Ministry of Works constructing roads, dredging canals, or disaster relief, funds allocated from the treasury would be skimmed layer by layer by officials, leaving only scraps to be used as intended.Tax collection was no exception. The tax rates set by the imperial court were ironclad laws, and lower-ranking officials dared not embezzle from them. If they wanted to line their own pockets, the only way was to impose higher commercial and grain taxes on the common people.

Fan Changyu wasn’t foolish either. Hearing his words, she immediately clenched her fists. "Are you saying it’s likely the county magistrate—or perhaps an even higher-ranking official—who’s exploiting the people's blood and sweat?"

Xie Zheng replied, "We’d know if we checked how much military grain other counties are collecting."

Fan Changyu said, "Tomorrow, when I deliver goods to the county town, I’ll see if I can run into people from other counties. If I do, I’ll ask them."

If other counties weren’t collecting this much, then it must be the Qingping County magistrate lining his pockets under the guise of taxation!

Xie Zheng nodded silently.

Fan Changyu was already yawning, but he picked up his brush again, as if intending to continue annotating the book.

Seeing his cold, detached profile in the candlelight, she couldn’t help but say, "Don’t write too late—it’ll strain your eyes. You can continue tomorrow."

Xie Zheng gave an absentminded "Mm," but his brush didn’t stop.

He had thought He Jingyuan could keep Wei Xuan in check, but instead, He Jingyuan was the one being controlled by Wei Xuan.

Pondering the reasons behind this, a hint of mockery flashed in his icy black eyes.

The 200,000 dan of grain Zhao Xun had purchased had already been taken over by his men. He Jingyuan’s people couldn’t trace its whereabouts and suspected it was his doing. That was why they deliberately allowed Wei Xuan to act this way—to force him out of hiding, wasn’t it?

So much for the so-called benevolent Confucian general who loved the people as his own children.

The news of his death in battle had spread for so long, and the entire northwest had descended into chaos. At this critical juncture, he couldn’t afford to let the Northern Turks seize the opportunity. He had to return.

As his brush glided across the page, forming neat and upright characters, his peripheral vision caught her shadow falling across the desk. His voice was cool and clear when he spoke: "Your birthday is this month. What would you like?"

Fan Changyu let out an "Ah," then realized what he meant. "I appreciate the thought, but my parents passed away just before the new year. I won’t be celebrating my birthday this year."

Xie Zheng’s brush paused slightly. "Name a wish. Consider it a gift for future birthdays."

Fan Changyu frowned. "Why does that sound so strange? Future birthday gifts can be given in the future. Why now—"

She trailed off mid-sentence, then looked at the dense annotations he had written in the book. Her smile faded. "You’re leaving, aren’t you?"