Fang Linyuan looked at Zhao Chu, his lips moving slightly.

Zhao Chu's words were nothing more than simple reasoning, but truly dispelling the fog to see the light was never as easy as a casual remark.

Yet, these words came from Zhao Chu.

In his eyes, there was a certain warmth within his conviction that was difficult to describe. It made one involuntarily trust him while simultaneously rendering them speechless.

After a moment, a slightly cool palm rested on his head and gently patted him.

“All right,” Zhao Chu said. “Have something to eat first. Whatever happened, take your time to explain.”

Under Zhao Chu's comfort and guidance, Fang Linyuan finished a piece of pastry and recounted the results of that day's interrogation.

The candlelight in the military tent gradually brightened until dawn was about to break.

“There is silver in the army but no grain—that is already unreasonable,” Fang Linyuan said. “Even in the worst of famine years, the national treasury would not be without grain. Even if the court were at the end of its rope, it wouldn't allow soldiers to starve to death.”

“The Ministry of War’s reserves can sustain three years of warfare,” Zhao Chu said. “Yanzhou has no grain, and the court has received no reports. This only means that they never requested grain from the Ministry of War.”

Fang Linyuan turned to look at Zhao Chu.

What Zhao Chu said was spot-on, but he couldn’t understand why the commander of Yanzhou would do such a thing.

Zhao Chu noticed the confusion in his eyes.

“We don’t have evidence right now, so let’s make some guesses,” Zhao Chu said.

“If an army commander, during a famine year, concealed the truth and soldiers starved to death, then when the emperor reprimands him, he could excuse himself by claiming he was considerate of the court's difficulties, that the national treasury was empty, and that he misjudged the situation in the army. How would the emperor deal with him?”

“He would be punished with a pay cut and demotion. Unless absolutely necessary, he wouldn't be used again,” Fang Linyuan answered.

Zhao Chu nodded. “And what if he had reported to the court and requested grain from the Ministry of War at the beginning of the famine year?”

“That would be much easier,” Fang Linyuan blurted out. “In a poor harvest year, all military camps across the land would face grain shortages. The Ministry of War wouldn’t single him out for trouble. All he’d need to do is submit the complete accounts of grain and military pay, and in less than half a month, the grain would be distributed…”

He paused, then looked straight at Zhao Chu. “The only thing they needed to do was to submit the accounts.”

Zhao Chu looked at him calmly and slowly nodded.

“You mean… they couldn’t even submit the accounts, so naturally, they couldn’t request grain from the Ministry of War?” he asked.

“So, Yanzhou’s military accounts were flawed from the beginning,” Zhao Chu said. “Otherwise, with grain prices so high in Yanzhou, who would think they had too much?”

A chill ran down Fang Linyuan’s spine.

If the grain’s whereabouts were unknown, where could it have gone? The commander alone couldn't have consumed that much grain. If it wasn't eaten, then it must have been sold.

Grain prices in Yanzhou had doubled, and a single human life was only worth three buckets of grain...

If the commander sold the grain at Yanzhou’s high prices and then converted it into silver based on last year’s lower prices to pay the soldiers…

Then the surplus silver would flow straight into the commander’s pockets.

“But…” Fang Linyuan’s hands trembled on his knees. “In case of an incident, it would cost dozens, maybe hundreds of lives. He couldn’t possibly cover it up. Isn’t his career worth more than all that silver?”

Zhao Chu looked at him.

He didn’t want Fang Linyuan to hear this.

Growing up in the forbidden palace, he had long been accustomed to such things. He knew that the justice, morality, and human lives that Fang Linyuan held dear were all commodities with clear prices, easily traded in the imperial city and the court.

After a moment, his voice softened, gentle and slow, as if afraid of startling someone.

“It’s quite simple,” he said. “In the military, there are always people like Meng Cheng. As long as someone rebels or causes chaos, the numbers for desertion and casualties can be adjusted.”

As he spoke, he reached out and placed his hand on Fang Linyuan’s arm, as if to comfort him.

“Look, the number of deserters who turned to banditry is still vaguely recorded as over a hundred, isn’t it? Those thirty-seven lives, mixed into the bandits’ numbers, would just be a rounding error.”

Fang Linyuan felt cold all over.

He couldn’t imagine... From last autumn to this spring, during these long, hungry months, their lives had withered away, their bodies reduced to bones, and even in death, they would be labelled as deserters.

“How… how could they…” Fang Linyuan’s voice faltered.

Zhao Chu’s hand slowly tightened, gripping his arm.

Across the simple wooden table, Zhao Chu longed to embrace him.

Fang Linyuan could only feel that amidst the cold enveloping his entire body, the only warmth came from the cool hand on his arm.

“If he did such a thing, there must be traces,” Zhao Chu said. “Since you’ve found the clues, he won’t escape.”

Fang Linyuan didn’t realize how heart-wrenching his appearance was at that moment.

His eyes, red from staying up all night, were filled with tremors and broken emotions.

He was suffering for the lives of others, like a deity gazing down from the clouds—compassionate, fragile, yet sacred beyond reach.

At that moment, Zhao Chu wanted to tell Fang Linyuan that when the commander was arrested and sentenced, he could take him to see it happen.

He could let Fang Linyuan personally cut the flesh from their bodies, gut them, and stuff their insides with chaff and wild grass.

But how could a spotless deity witness such filth and bloodshed?

Zhao Chu’s jaw tightened, faintly trembling amidst his calmness.

He fought to suppress his torment and fury, carefully controlling his strength to avoid hurting Fang Linyuan.

After a moment, he gently stroked Fang Linyuan’s arm, his voice soft and soothing.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “With you here, they will face justice and pay the price they deserve.”

*

As the sky began to brighten, Fang Linyuan barely managed to fall asleep.

Zhao Chu had nowhere else to go, so Fang Linyuan moved the small table from his bed to make space, intending to sleep on the floor and give the bed to Zhao Chu.

Zhao Chu told him not to worry about it and mentioned that there would be another case to interrogate tomorrow. He coaxed and ordered him to lie down on the bed.

As his head touched the pillow, Fang Linyuan, drowsy, didn't even realize when he fell asleep.

He only remembered that Zhao Chu seemed to be nearby while he slept, still talking to him in a random, casual manner.

The words were trivial, yet Fang Linyuan felt an inexplicable sense of peace, especially after the interrogation last night.

He seemed to trust Zhao Chu completely without reason, as if the moment Zhao Chu was there, a king of hell holding a book of merits stood behind those ruthless killers who trampled on human lives.

He allowed this trust to grow without realizing that, as he was about to drift into sleep, he had reached out and clutched the sleeve of Zhao Chu's clothing that hung beside the bed.

“Zhao Chu…” He was half-asleep, seeming to want to say more, but his words became little more than barely audible murmurs.

Zhao Chu's fingers beneath his sleeve trembled slightly.

He never knew that just hearing his name spoken so simply could make every vein in his body tingle, a warmth spreading in his chest, making his heart soften and ache in a sweet and sour way.

“Mm.” Zhao Chu answered softly, his voice so faint it was nearly inaudible. “I’m here.”

Meanwhile, Fang Linyuan, still lost in sleep, lightly smacked his lips, turned over, and pressed Zhao Chu’s entire sleeve beneath him.

His cheek was pressed against Zhao Chu's hand, like a lamb waiting for slaughter, unknowingly nudging the executioner.

The executioner’s blade inadvertently turned back, softly stabbing into his own heart.

That night, Zhao Chu quietly knelt beside Fang Linyuan's bed, careful not to disturb him. He leaned gently over the edge of the bed, mirroring Fang Linyuan’s sleeping posture.

His breath, cautious and light, gradually mingled with Fang Linyuan’s calm and steady breathing.

Even with such a cold and tainted soul, he was somehow worthy of guarding the purest and brightest person in Fang Linyuan's eyes.

Zhao Chu quietly observed Fang Linyuan.

His heart, too, beat wildly, a mess of emotions, until the break of dawn.

*

By the time the sun was high, Fang Linyuan had gotten up.

It was rare, for despite having only fallen asleep late into the night, with heavy thoughts that felt like a stone weighing him down, he had slept especially soundly, waking up feeling refreshed and full of energy.

This was a good thing.

Before noon, he had finished both breakfast and lunch and led a team to investigate the detailed conditions of the Thirty-Seven Bandits' hideout.

Words alone were not enough; they still needed to find evidence to support their testimonies.

Fang Linyuan first went to the Ningbei District office to review all the reports from the past few months related to the Thirty-Seven Bandits.

There was an important trade route near the Chongzhou Mountains that connected the north and south. Due to the vastness of the mountains, most merchants travelling through the northern regions passed along this route, which was located just over ten miles from the western side of the bandit stronghold.

Most of the cases involving the Thirty-Seven Bandits were centred here.

Apart from some cases of robbery and fighting where bandits impersonated the real criminals, all the cases of raids on the trade route were as Meng Cheng and the others had stated—the bandits mostly took only twenty percent of what was looted.

There were even merchant caravans that had been robbed before they reached Chongzhou but were allowed to pass without a single coin being taken after encountering the Thirty-Seven Bandits.

Among these records, one case stood out as particularly interesting.

It was a series of robberies in a nearby town in Ningbei District. Over several days, the town had been raided by burglars who slaughtered the wealthiest families and pillaged everything.

It was said that this was the work of the Thirty-Seven Bandits from the mountains, and the townspeople were left in panic, locking their doors every day.

However, several days later, several local thugs were found dead in the streets, their bodies tied to a stone pillar in front of the district office. Their hands were severed at the wrist.

Above them, a dagger was embedded three inches into the wood of the stone pillar, with a large piece of paper pinned on it, bearing several bold characters:

[Those who slander my mountain stronghold deserve to die a thousand deaths.]

These cases were presented before Fang Linyuan.

“These bandits must have read too many stories and started thinking of themselves as heroes of the green woods,” the governor of Ningbei District said carefully, seeing Fang Linyuan’s grim expression. He hesitated before trying to comfort him. “The general doesn’t need to pay too much mind. After all, they’re just a group of mountain bandits.”

Fang Linyuan, however, turned his head and looked at the governor.

“My lord hates evil with a passion, yet you’ve allowed these bandits to go unchecked for more than half a year and never once reported it to the court.”

“This...” The governor of the district immediately didn’t know how to respond.

It was indeed a group of despicable bandits… but they had been occupying Ningbei District for months, and they hadn’t committed any particularly heinous crimes.

The governor, adhering to the principle that less trouble was better than more, had been pretending to crack down on the bandits. He would conduct a token sweep every month or two, going through the process of suppressing them, and that would be the end of it.

But if he reported it to the imperial court, there would immediately be high-ranking officials sent to oversee the matter. At that point, the trouble would be far more complicated than dealing with a group of greenwood heroes-turned-mountain bandits.

The governor hesitated, unable to speak, but Fang Linyuan had no intention of making things difficult for him.

After gathering the case files, Fang Linyuan instructed the governor to have someone copy the documents and send them to the military camp in the next two days, and then he left with his men.

It was just past noon, and there was still enough time for Fang Linyuan to visit the Thirty-Seven Bandits' hideout.

He still had the keys to the bandit stronghold's storerooms, and once the items inside were counted in his presence, the evidence would be nearly complete.

Zhou Jia had long arrived, leading his troops and waiting at the bandit stronghold’s entrance.

The experienced officers from the capital, like Zhou Jia and Fan Yushu, were particularly reliable in this regard. They were cautious and careful, not daring to make any mistakes. When it came to handling matters, they were highly dependable.

He followed Fang Linyuan as they both mounted their horses and ascended the mountain, opening the storeroom doors one by one.

Before opening the doors, Zhou Jia cracked his knuckles.

“I’ve heard that many of the northern merchants travel along the Chongzhou trade route,” Zhou Jia said to Fang Linyuan as the soldiers began to unlock the door. “Their storerooms are probably full of gold and silver, right? If we bring all of this back to the capital, His Majesty will surely be pleased and reward you greatly…”

As he spoke, the heavy door was pushed open.

Zhou Jia curiously leaned in to take a look, while Fang Linyuan stepped forward into the storeroom.

“This… this…”

Zhou Jia was stunned by the scene before him.

The room, which he had imagined would be filled with gold and jewels, was instead full of dusty weapons, broken tables and chairs, coal stoves for winter use, snow shovels, and ploughs for farming… The items were disorganized yet neatly stacked, making the place look more like a farmhouse backyard.

Zhou Jia looked at Fang Linyuan in surprise.

But Fang Linyuan remained calm, simply raising his hand to a group of soldiers assigned to record the inventory and saying, “Count everything carefully, and make sure it’s all logged.”

“Understood!” The soldiers responded and began their work.

Zhou Jia’s eyes nearly popped out.

What was there to record about this junk? Why not just throw it down the mountain and let the villagers take it home?

But Fang Linyuan, with his calm expression, glanced at him and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Zhou Jia immediately understood.

“General, you’re wise!” he said. “These mountain bandits surely must have a cellar or hidden rooms. I was distracted by the sight of these things and didn’t think of that!”

Fang Linyuan gave him a look, a bit speechless.

This man had so many thoughts, yet he still missed the obvious.

Without waiting for Fang Linyuan to speak, Zhou Jia shouted, “Make sure to check everything carefully! Any secret passages or hidden doors must not be overlooked!”

Seeing his eager expression, Fang Linyuan didn’t bother to object.

After all, it wasn’t a bad thing to be thorough.

The search was carried out in an orderly manner. There were no valuables, which made Fang Linyuan feel relieved since he didn’t need to worry about someone tampering with the evidence.

The pile of discarded items was being rummaged through, kicking up dust.

At that moment, a soldier’s exclamation came from nearby, “General, there’s a hidden door here!”

Really?

Fang Linyuan was momentarily stunned, then led Zhou Jia over to where the soldiers had gathered.

Ahead, the soldiers had already pushed open the hidden door, and dozens of them rushed inside, clearing the way for the others.

Behind the hidden door was a dark, damp staircase leading down into the storeroom below. Some soldiers had brought lamps, and the light quickly illuminated the entire underground chamber.

Fang Linyuan followed the stairs, step by step, until he reached the bottom.

One of the soldiers, hesitating, called out, “General, there’s nothing in this secret room either, just a pile of old clothes. It’s very strange…”

Fang Lingyuan looked up.

He saw that the spacious secret chamber was filled with old, dusty robes piled all over the floor.

His pupils contracted sharply.

He stared intently at the pile of clothes, unable to speak for a long time.

Beside him, Zhou Jia was still muttering as he walked up and casually picked up one of the garments. “Why are these Hu people's clothes? Where did they come from…”

*

They were indeed Hu people's clothes.

Not only were they Hu people's clothes, but they were the same garments worn by the Hu bandits who had rampaged through the capital on the night of the Huachao Festival several months ago, burning, killing, and looting.

The garment Zhou Jia picked up shimmered faintly under the lamplight with a unique sheen.

It was Hu fabric, a type only found in the capital. The color and style were exactly the same as those worn by the Hu bandits that night.

Fang Lingyuan reached out and took the garment. He noticed faint, dark red bloodstains and scorch marks from flames on the fabric.

“Everyone out. Seal this secret chamber. Nothing inside is to be taken out or destroyed,” Fang Lingyuan immediately turned and ordered the soldiers behind him.

Seeing his serious expression, Zhou Jia didn’t dare to fool around. He quickly threw the garment back and called for the soldiers inside to withdraw swiftly.

“General, what’s this about…” Just before leaving the chamber, Zhou Jia cautiously asked Fang Lingyuan.

Fang Lingyuan replied, “Don’t ask too much for now. Lock up this chamber. As for the other items, register them properly and deliver the records to my tent.”

Hearing his instructions, Zhou Jia nodded quickly and asked, “General, are you heading somewhere else? Should I arrange for a squad to accompany you…”

Fang Lingyuan gave a slight shake of his head. “No need. I’m going to the county yamen. I’ll be back tonight.”

*

He was going to find Meng Cheng.

The moment he saw Meng Cheng, he didn’t waste words and asked directly, “Where did those clothes in the secret chamber under your storeroom come from?”

Meng Cheng was stunned, clearly not expecting Fang Lingyuan to care about this.

“It was the day we escaped from the military camp. We found them while hiding in the nearby mountains,” he explained. “We were in a hurry to change out of our military uniforms and saw about a hundred piled-up corpses in the mountains, so we took their clothes.”

Fang Lingyuan paused, his brows immediately furrowing. “Corpses?”

“Yes, they were all masked, and many had their throats slit, killed in one strike.”

Meng Cheng continued, “Judging by the method, they were probably killed by assassins, but we were afraid of being captured by the commander, so we didn’t think much of it and just changed clothes and left.”

“What did they look like? Do you remember?”

When Fang Lingyuan spoke again, his tone was urgent.

Seeing his serious expression, Meng Cheng became more cautious as well.

“We didn’t pay much attention to the details, but about half of them were Hu people, with curly hair and tall, strong builds,” he said.

Half of them were Hu people?

Fang Lingyuan immediately caught the key point in his words and asked, “What about the other half? Were they Han?”

Meng Cheng was puzzled. “Yes.”

He didn’t understand why Han people were of any concern, but Fang Lingyuan’s pupils narrowed slightly.

Han people… How could half of the Hu bandits causing chaos be Han?

The Turks were notoriously distrustful and deeply believed that those not of their race would harbour different intentions. Even when they captured Han women, they only kept them as slaves and never married them. How could they possibly involve Han people in such an important rebellion…

Unless the one commanding them wasn’t a Turk at all.

This realization sent a chill down Fang Lingyuan’s spine.

“Do you remember where you found them?” Fang Lingyuan took a deep breath, calming himself before asking.

“In Yifeng Mountain, a hundred miles east of Yan Prefecture. The terrain there is rugged, with few canyons and many ravines. The corpses were piled in one of the gorges…” Meng Cheng replied.

Yifeng Mountain…

That direction didn’t make any sense.

Fang Lingyuan’s hand, resting on the table, slowly clenched into a fist.

On that day, the Hu bandits fled north along the northwest official road, which led back to Turkic territory.

Afterwards, when the bandits vanished, Fang Lingyuan and all others investigating the case assumed they had escaped toward Turkic lands.

But Yifeng Mountain was in the complete opposite direction.

Even their escape route had been a deception.

 

--

Author's note:

Finally circling back to the earlier case!

 

Translator : DarNan