County Office Main Hall.
The sandalwood incense table stood neat, and a faint fragrance assailed the nostrils. Incense ash piled high in the incense burner at the corner of the table, and wisps of blue smoke rose in slow, meandering threads, pervading the hall.
A large plaque bearing the four characters "Impartial and Upright" hung on the wall, written with vigorous strokes. Yet at this moment, the atmosphere inside the hall felt heavy, grave and tense like a mountain storm about to break.
Outside the window, cicadas chirped ceaselessly and the summer sun blazed high, but inside the hall it felt as though that oppressive air had utterly subdued the heat.
At the head of the table, County Magistrate Yang Jing of Nanning County bowed his head to review a scroll of documents.
He was around fifty years of age, with a lean and haggard face, yet his gaze was as sharp as a carved eagle's, and his brows carried an unangered authority.
Though he wore official robes, they exuded a killing intent honed by the battlefield, making him look less like a civil official and more like a veteran general who had crawled out of blood and fire.
Seated to the lower left below him was County Assistant Wu Heng, whose build was rather thin, his complexion pale, and his eyes slightly narrowed, revealing a hint of sinister cunning.
At that moment, his fingers tapped unhurriedly against the tabletop as if calculating something.
On the right was Director Wang of the Martial Guard Division, possessing a tiger-like build, dark skin, and a face covered in fleshy jowls. His gaze was like a hook, and a heavy saber hung at his waist. One glance revealed him to be a fierce and brave man.
The air seemed to freeze, and even the smoke from the incense paused halfway, unable to move forward.
Yang Jing gently put down the document in his hand, raised his head, and furrowed his brow tightly, his tone deep:
"The Black Tiger Stockade has already become a grave menace to our Nanning County."
His sharp gaze swept across Wu Heng and Wang Hao, and his tone grew colder:
"Over the past month, they have intercepted trade routes, plundered villages, burned houses and ruined fields, committing every conceivable crime of murder and pillage. Yesterday, the Chen Family Caravan suffered heavy losses, and Elder Chen personally delivered the complaint with earnest words. The prefectural office has sent successive urgent orders overnight, demanding that we resolve the bandit scourge."
"Now the commoners cry out in distress, and the aristocratic families and powerful clans also harbor deep complaints. If we do not suppress the bandits and continue to sit idly by, I fear we will be the first ones called to account and charged by our superiors."
Wu Heng's expression shifted slightly, and he let out a soft sigh:
"Your Honor does not know, but the Black Tiger Stockade has long since ceased to be ordinary bandits. Their chieftain, Li Heihu, is rumored to already be a Seventh Rank Martial Artist."
"Under his command are four fierce generals known as the 'Black Wind Four Fiends', every single one of them an expert above the Ninth Rank with horrifying martial arts. Coupled with the thousands of fierce bandits in the stockade, they are tightly organized and unafraid of blades and weapons. If we launch a frontal assault, our county troops will find it difficult to match their might, and I am afraid even this county seat will be shaken."
Wang Hao spoke in a deep voice to pick up the thread, his fists clenched tight, his voice as low as a muffled rumble:
"These mountain bandits are not like scattered and disorganized troops at all. They fight with method, retreat and defend with strategy, and have even begun to mimic military organization by setting up guard posts and camps. With an air like this, someone is clearly plotting behind the scenes."
He gritted his teeth and cursed in a low voice: "I had men inquire about it. While the bandits keep their mouths tight, they occasionally let mention slip of--the 'Bai Family of Jingzhou'."
As soon as his voice fell, Yang Jing's gaze suddenly turned sharp.
"The Bai Family? The Bai Family of Jingzhou?"
He raised a brow, his gaze as cold as a frosty blade, and let out a low hum:
"If the Bai Family is truly supporting them from the shadows, then this matter... is no longer as simple as suppressing bandits."
Wu Heng wore a grave expression: "Although the Bai Family is not the top aristocratic clan in Jingzhou, they are intertwined with deep roots. Their descendants are spread across prefectures, commanderies, and counties, and some even hold military posts in the prefectural capital. If we make a move against the Black Tiger Stockade, it will be no different from touching the foundation of their interests."
"If they bite back and accuse us of arbitrarily deploying weapons, disturbing the peace of the people, and even pinning the label of 'framing an aristocratic family' on us, then by that time... we will be pushed into the limelight."
Wang Hao cried out angrily in a shake of rage: "Then are we just going to endure this? And watch them plunder the commoners with our own eyes? Although I, Wang Hao, am a crude man, I still know what the duty of the official government is!"
His fist smashed onto the table, causing teacups to jump and incense ash to splatter.
The hall plunged into a brief silence, with only the winding blue smoke of the incense burner weaving together with the clamorous cicadas outside the window into a stifling stillness.
Yang Jing pondered for a moment, slowly raised his head, and his gaze grew as deep as a pool of dark water:
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"This battle cannot be fought head-on, nor should it be fought openly. Fierce though the Black Tiger Stockade may be, they are merely grass-rebels; strong though the Bai Family may be, they will not lower themselves for grass-rebels."
He paused, his tone low but carrying a trace of murderous intent:
"If we can cut off Li Heihu's head, the Black Tiger Stockade will be left without a leader and naturally plunge into chaos. Once the Bai Family sees they can no longer profit through the Black Tiger Stockade, they will abandon them."
"After all, breeding tigers creates future trouble and is hardly a good reputation to bear. The Bai Family will not ruin their reputation for this mere Black Tiger Stockade."
Wu Heng was slightly startled, then understood immediately, and asked in a low voice:
"Does Your Honor mean--assassination?"
"Precisely." Yang Jing nodded.
Wang Hao furrowed his brow deeply and said in a cold voice: "Your Honor, this Li Heihu is a Seventh Rank Martial Artist. The Seventh Rank figures within Nanning County who are capable of making a move... amount to just those few old monsters. How could they possibly listen to the orders of the County Office? It is even less likely they would risk their lives for us."
"Moreover... even a Seventh Rank might not necessarily secure a steady victory over Li Heihu."
Yang Jing nodded, yet his gaze remained as calm as ice and his tone steady: "There is no rush for this matter; we still have time and can make arrangements slowly."
As he spoke, he raised his eyes to look at Wang Hao, changing the subject: "How is the recruitment of those bailiffs going?"
Wang Hao was taken aback, then replied: "It is currently underway. Two hundred men have already been recruited so far. Some are sturdy youths who farm or hunt, and others are elites from martial arts academies. Their quality is quite good."
Wu Heng interjected at that moment, his tone plain yet revealing a hint of calculation:
"Hurry it up. Once we recruit three hundred men and train them slightly, we can mobilize the county troops and join forces with them to annihilate those scum mountain bandits outside the Black Tiger Stockade."
"We will sweep the outer perimeter first, trim their wings, and then observe how the situation develops."
Upon hearing this, Wang Hao's expression instantly grew somewhat gloomy.
He naturally could glean the underlying meaning in Wu Heng's words.
The so-called 'joining forces' was nothing more than using those newly recruited bailiffs as cannon fodder and suicide squads.
After all, those county troops?
Most of them were gilded aristocratic descendants, every last one clad in armor and never getting a speck of dust on them, who would run faster than anyone else the moment a real battle started.
When trouble truly arose, nobody would care if those bailiffs died.
If they succeeded in killing the bandits, the vast majority of this merit would fall upon the heads of those county troops.
Though Wang Hao was the Director of the Martial Guard Division and his subordinates were mostly down-to-earth, rough men, he knew the perils of officialdom by now, so he said in a low voice:
"...I understand. I will try my best to speed up recruitment and strive to fill the quota within these few days."
Yang Jing nodded slightly and said softly: "Mn, I am at ease when you handle things."
His tone remained mild, but the moment his words fell, it was like an invisible falling hammer that made the air in the main hall even heavier.
Wu Heng smiled faintly, glanced sideways at Wang Hao, and added in a low voice:
"This matter brooks no delay, Director Wang. Once it is accomplished, the County Magistrate will naturally record it as your first-class merit."
Wang Hao made no reply, only nodding in silent acquiescence.
He knew that within this hall, he had no qualification to say much more.
The chirping of the cicadas outside the window remained clamorous, but inside the hall it felt as though they had been pressed into an invisible, stifling pot, and even the blue smoke of the incense burner seemed to have grown sluggish.
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