County Town Impressions

The Yingke Tower was the finest restaurant in Anchang County. Old Wang, its head chef, was especially renowned for his drunken fish, which drew plenty of regulars. It was nearly noon, the busiest time of day. The first-floor dining hall was already packed, and many of the sixteen private rooms on the second floor, screened off from one another, were occupied as well. Most of the diners were scholars and clerks, with the occasional wealthy merchant. They all carried themselves with some refinement and enjoyed composing poetry and matching couplets, so the rooms were relatively quiet, a stark contrast with the clamor downstairs.

Fang Ming had taken one of the private rooms and ordered a few small dishes, with special emphasis on the drunken fish the waiter had recommended. He also asked for a pot of wine, slipped the waiter a small tip, and sent him away. Then he savored the meal alone at his leisure.

He tried the drunken fish. It was indeed fresh, fragrant, and tender, with a lingering aftertaste. The wine was good, too, and paired with the small dishes it had a flavor all its own. Fang Ming ate and drank quietly, listening to the sounds coming from the neighboring rooms.

Just then, voices reached him.

"Good heavens... The contest for the coroner's post this time has been downright bizarre. He Yu and He Qin of the He family were the clear favorites. Plenty of people had bet on them, but who could have guessed that, in the end, they'd be beaten out by some penniless country bumpkin nobody's ever heard of? It's left everyone gaping..."

A thin voice spoke up. "I've heard about it, too. It does sound strange, but I don't know the details. Old Qin, don't you have a relative working at the county office? Tell us what happened..." More toasts and laughter followed, then Old Qin's voice rang out. "All right, I'll tell you!"

"It all goes back to the death of Old He Dong, the coroner... A few months ago, the old coroner passed away, and his son He Sanhuai took over his father's post. Unfortunately, he hadn't been at it for many days before he'd angered the whole county. They kicked him out... Heh..."

His voice was full of barely concealed glee.

"Exactly, exactly. Their family's coroner's post just flew right out of their hands. If Old He were still alive, his son would have angered him to death all over again..." Another voice joined in, resentment dripping from every word.

The coroner was the most senior of the clerks and wielded considerable power. Ordinary people had no hope of becoming officials without inherited privilege, so the coroner's post was the highest position they could aspire to. Unfortunately, that post, too, depended on inheritance and family background, shutting out countless hopefuls and naturally breeding resentment.

"Heh... True enough. But the new coroner still had to be chosen from the He clan. The meat may have spoiled, but it stayed in the pot; outsiders still couldn't get a bite. Sigh..."

"Enough of that. Let me continue. The candidates for the new coroner were He Qin, He Yu, He Song, and a few others. He Qin and He Yu came from wealthy households. I heard they'd spent a lot of money and promised the He clan plenty of benefits. They were capable enough, too, so they had a very good chance. Those two were the clear favorites, and they fought each other tooth and nail..." Seeing that the mood had grown gloomy and the wine had lost its charm, Old Qin hurriedly steered the conversation back to the contest. Sure enough, everyone perked up.

"As for He Song, though he was technically part of the He family's inner clan, he rarely kept in touch with them. No one thought he stood a chance. Who'd have guessed he'd enter the contest this time? I bet plenty of the He clan laughed at him. But what happened next was something else..." Old Qin paused to keep them in suspense.

"Old Qin, hurry up and tell us what happened next..." "Here, have another bowl to wet your throat. Now get on with it..."

Seeing how he'd hooked everyone, Old Qin smiled smugly and took another sip of wine before continuing at an unhurried pace. "He Song went to pay his respects to the He clan, and right off the bat, he presented them with a twenty-tael silver gift. That really shook them up."

"Good heavens... Twenty taels? He Yu and He Qin's families have only spent ten or twenty taels altogether this time, haven't they? Any more, and they'd have to sell off their property. How does He Song have that kind of money? Or is he not planning to grease any palms at the county office?" An incredulous voice rang out.

"I happen to know a little about that. My home is next to a pawnshop, and that day I heard the shop assistant say a man had brought in an ancient jade from the previous dynasty. He said it was a family heirloom and wanted to pawn it outright. The proprietor examined it and offered ten taels, but the man knew his stuff. He knew the jade was worth a hundred taels and said he was only willing to pawn it because he needed money urgently. The proprietor had no choice and finally paid him fifty taels. The man who sold the jade was He Song!" someone interjected.

"Ts..." A chorus of sharp intakes of breath followed, along with a few jealous curses.

Old Qin cursed, too. "Damn, that's a lot of money. If I'd known, I'd have robbed him!" Everyone chimed in. "You should've robbed him!"

Then Old Qin sighed. "He's got some nerve, selling a fine family heirloom just like that, then spending every last coin. My relative says he doesn't know what He Song said to the He clan, but in the end, they submitted his name to the authorities alongside He Qin's and He Yu's."

"After that, He Song went to grease the palms at the county office, spending a full thirty taels. And he seemed to know all the ins and outs of the office like the back of his hand. He took care of everyone from top to bottom, paying exactly the right amount—not too much, not too little. He didn't seem like a newcomer at all, but more like an old hand who'd spent years working there."

Everyone nodded. Knowing how to grease palms required a keen eye: how much to give each department, where to pay extra, and where a little less would do. You couldn't learn that without taking a few losses and hitting a few walls. How had He Song managed it? Had Heaven itself taught him?

Old Qin continued, "Later, when He Song went to pay off the Office of Personnel, its director had always been on good terms with Old He Dong, the former coroner. That was how we found out that, though Old He never associated with He Song openly, he'd actually thought highly of the young man's talent and taught him quite a few things in secret. The director asked He Song some sensitive questions, too, and he answered every one correctly. Only then did they believe him."

"Finally, there was an examination. It was mostly a formality, but Magistrate Wei was there and said they had to be strict. He Song really did have some talent, though. I heard Magistrate Wei liked him quite a bit. In the end, he earned top marks in every category, and they appointed him on the spot..."

"Tsk, tsk... Fifty taels for a coroner's post. If it were me..." He trailed off, unable to decide. Fifty taels of silver and the coroner's post were both valuable things, but one was right in front of him while the other promised gains in the long run.

Old Qin spat. "Pathetic! Go ask the local gentry and rich landlords. Forget fifty taels—even for a hundred, there'd be plenty willing to buy a coroner's post! Once you're the coroner, you get all kinds of gifts and grease. You'd earn your money back in a few years, and after that it'd be pure profit. You could even pass the post down to your descendants. You'd have an official's skin to wear, too. Tsk, tsk..." Old Qin was clearly envious himself. "Enough talk. Come on, let's drink..."

Hearing this, Fang Ming smiled faintly. He Song becoming the coroner was good news for him, too, and his spirits lifted. He drank a few more cups.

Fang Ming was able to sit here thanks to his new divine art. His recent promotion to Principal Eighth Rank had granted him the great divine art of "Divine Possession," which let him split off a thread of divine consciousness and attach it to a mortal, allowing him to act through that person.

After experimenting, Fang Ming discovered that splitting off a thread of divine consciousness cost twenty strands of Red Divine Power. Possessing a mortal's body cost between one and twenty strands of Divine Power, depending on how strong their will to resist was. The possession also had a time limit: at most twelve shichen. Each shichen cost five strands of Red Divine Power, and after twelve shichen, the divine consciousness would dissipate on its own.

Fang Ming had sent Li Dazhuang a dream beforehand, telling him not to resist. Even so, successfully possessing him had cost five strands of Divine Power. Once he managed it, Fang Ming came to the county town to take a look around.

Anchang County had two thousand households and around ten thousand people. It was considered a small county, but its walls were still tall and sturdy, and soldiers patrolled the gates.

Through his Qi-Reading Divine Art, Fang Ming saw that the whole county town was wrapped in a fortune that was white tinged with red, protecting it. None of Fang Ming's subordinates could likely enter the town. Fang Ming himself could force his way through, but that would provoke a counterattack. He'd have to pit his own Fortune against that of more than ten thousand people, and the outcome would probably be grim.

Now, though, he had a mortal body. He paid a single copper coin and walked right into the city, saving himself a great deal of trouble.

He wandered about at random, then noticed that the Yingke Tower was not far from the county office, drew a steady stream of people, and was a hub for gossip. So he took a private room there to listen for news, and he could also look out from above to observe the county office's Fortune.

Fang Ming had specifically asked for a private room by the window, which gave him a clear view of the county office. He'd been lucky enough to arrive early and get one.

In his eyes, red energy boiled and gleamed above the nearby county office, with only wisps of white remaining at its base. Fang Ming's heart gave a start. As expected of the central hub of the human realm—the Fortune there was extraordinary.

The county office was in a different league from a village. The magistrate held overall authority, with a county deputy, a county commandant, six departments, and a host of clerks, grooms, bailiffs, jailers, and others beneath him. It was fully staffed, with a complete administrative system.

If everyone were promoted by a few ranks, it could immediately function as a prefectural office. They might not all be capable enough, but they could certainly keep the work running, which was no small thing. Moving up to the province or the imperial court only meant adding a few departments and more people; fundamentally, it was the same.

So the Great Qian Empire was supported by these hundreds and thousands of county-level units. They were the very roots of the system, governed by laws and regulations.

In Fang Ming's eyes, this Fortune did not take the form of a mist. It had a shape, like a vast net centered on the county office, wrapping around the entire county town and even stretching out into the countryside.

Naturally, the county office was the center, where the laws held the greatest force and the Fortune was almost pure red. At the edge of town, it became half red and half white. In the countryside, perhaps only a trace of white would remain, mixed together with the protection of altars and Ancestral Spirits. Fang Ming hadn't sensed it before.

Just then, two rows of bailiffs came out and took their places on either side of the county office. Fang Ming's heart stirred, and he stared without blinking.

Several people emerged from the county office. The one in the middle looked to be middle-aged and wore an official's robe of Principal Seventh Rank. This was Magistrate Wei Zhun. Above his head, a pure-red fated aura harmonized with the dense red energy around him, vaguely forming the shape of a flying bird. Suddenly, it seemed to notice Fang Ming. A long cry rang out, and red light flashed. Fang Ming's eyes stung as though they were about to shed tears. His heart lurched, and he dared not look any longer, shifting his gaze away.

To the magistrate's left stood an elderly man of imposing bearing. Red and white energy gathered above his head, much like Fang Ming's own, but it formed no distinct shape. Fang Ming guessed he had to be the county deputy.

To the right stood a burly man, likewise surrounded by red and white energy, though wisps of black mingled around him. It wasn't calamity energy, but military energy and Killing Intent. He was presumably the county commandant. By regulation, a county commandant could command up to a thousand auxiliary soldiers. Of course, the force was never at full strength in ordinary times, but there would still be five hundred men or so—enough to suppress the county town. The commandant's fated aura was only red and white, two ranks below Xie Jin's, but his Fortune was something the current Xie Jin couldn't hold a candle to.

Fang Ming marveled inwardly. Officials in the human system really did gather tremendous Fortune. With his current rank, he was nowhere near a match for the magistrate. Probably none of his divine arts would work on him. Until the magistrate fell ill, left office, grew old, or dreamed at night, Fang Ming wouldn't even be able to get close to him.

He could influence the county deputy and commandant a little, but it would take a great deal of Divine Power—at least three-tenths of his Divine Power and Fortune—and even then, the effects were uncertain. At that thought, Fang Ming's mood darkened somewhat.

But then he considered the matter. The Fortune of the human realm was brief and blazing, like fire catching kindling. It might burn fiercely for a time, but in a mere hundred years, the person would die and the Fortune would vanish. The Fortune brought by official rank was not one's own, either. If Wei Zhun were dismissed, how much of his Fortune would remain? The Fortune of the Divine Way, by contrast, was precious for its longevity and enduring flow; its power belonged to oneself and could never be taken away. Each had its own strengths, and the two could not be compared directly.