A Single Toll of the Bell and Drum Brings the Officials to Court

Chapter 20: A Single Toll of the Bell and Drum Brings the Officials to Court

Zi Bofeng had been working late into the night for days. He kept at it until midnight before he finally managed to sort out the entire set of accounts. Little Stone had long since been carried home on his father's back and put to bed. When Zi Bofeng finally finished, his head spun and throbbed, and he nearly collapsed on the spot.

He had heard the phrase "exhausting every ounce of one's strength," but had never truly experienced it himself. Now he understood.

Not only was he mentally drained, his spiritual energy had also run dry. He stepped outside. The night wind was cool and crisp, and as it blew over him, his head cleared. He looked up and saw Uncle Blue Rock halfway up Bird-Mouse Mountain, breathing in and out spiritual energy beneath the moon. The energy transformed into a line of characters: "All well?"

"All well." Zi Bofeng stretched, his joints cracking. Then he heard a snore from one side, followed by Zi Jian's voice. "Finished calculating?"

Si Gou was the one snoring. He had spread a mat on the ground. Zi Jian and Yan Lao Wu were nearby, chatting quietly about everyday matters. It turned out none of them had left.

"Finished." Seeing the concern on his father's and Yan Lao Wu's faces, Zi Bofeng smiled. "I've done what I was entrusted to do."

When he saw the two of them staring at him, Zi Bofeng turned and went inside. He came back out with two account books.

He handed them over. Yan Lao Wu flipped through one and immediately glared at him. "You trying to make a fool of me?"

Zi Jian had some trouble reading them, but he could make out the figures. He frowned and studied them for a while. "Why are the numbers different in these two?"

"They're the same accounts. This one comes up short, and this one comes up even." Zi Bofeng pointed to the account book in his father's hands. "The accounts for all fifty-three years are here. Not a single entry is missing."

"How did you get different results?" Zi Jian flipped through the pages. Every figure seemed to be the same.

"The secret of heaven must not be revealed." Zi Bofeng yawned. "I'll go see the Prefect first thing tomorrow morning. Yawn... I'm dead on my feet."

"Thanks for all your hard work, Xiucai." Yan Lao Wu frowned as he looked at the two account books. He couldn't make heads or tails of them, but something about them didn't seem right.

How could the accounts come up short and yet somehow come up even? What sort of trick was this?

But if he could figure out the trick, how would Zi Bofeng ever make a living?

"Our village is just too poor." You wouldn't know until you did the sums, and then the numbers would scare you. Zi Bofeng had worked out the approximate assets of every household in the village, as well as the communal property. The figures had far exceeded what he'd expected.

How could a village this poor ever develop?

Zi Bofeng had finished the accounts, but now he was worrying about the future.

No matter how much he worried, by the time the sun rose the next morning, Zi Bofeng was ready to head to the city.

"I'm going with you." Zi Jian had already prepared the carrying pole, and Yan Wu Shi had packed some provisions.

They had only walked a few steps when they heard a flurry of footsteps behind them. Little Stone came sprinting over. "Uncle, Brother, I'm coming with you!"

The two looked in the direction Little Stone had come from. Yan Wu Shi stood in the doorway, watching them with a worried expression.

"Go back. We'll be home tomorrow," Zi Jian said.

Yan Wu Shi smiled and waved, but she remained in the doorway, unwilling to leave. She watched until the group had disappeared completely, then turned back inside.

At the village entrance, they saw Yan Lao Wu coming after them too. "Lao Si just left a moment ago."

He wasn't there to see Zi Jian and his son off. He'd just been sitting at the village entrance, smoking for a while.

Yan Lao Wu was getting on in years, and he didn't want to make the long journey again. Besides, Zi Bofeng was going to see the Prefect. Yan Lao Wu had lived in Lower Yan Village for decades and still didn't know what the Prefect looked like. There was no point in his going.

He handed them a small cage. "If there's any news, write it down and send it back, so the villagers can feel at ease."

Little Stone took the cage. Inside were two pigeons, white-feathered and red-eyed. They were the old man's treasured pets. He'd once had more than ten, but most had ended up in the bellies of mischievous children. These two were the only ones left.

"Old sir, are you sure you'll be able to read a note?" Zi Bofeng had just opened his mouth when he couldn't help smacking himself lightly on the lips. That lousy mouth of his was always blurting things out, regardless of the occasion!

"I know seventeen characters, and every one of 'em is written proper and square—"

As the old man launched into his familiar speech, the three of them went on their way, carrying a pole, a box, and a cage.

The gates of Meng City stood wide open. It wasn't market day, so there was no entry fee. After a long journey, the three members of the Zi Clan were exhausted. They set down their loads beneath the city gate and rested for a while, drinking tea to quench their thirst. Then the three went their separate ways. Zi Jian took Little Stone to look for odd jobs in the streets and alleys, while Zi Bofeng headed to Mengcheng Prefecture alone.

A little over ten minutes later, Zi Bofeng arrived outside Mengcheng Prefecture. He gave his name and explained why he had come. The gate guard sent him to wait in a side room in the corridor until the Prefect had some free time to see him. Though Zi Bofeng was only a minor Village Chief, Mengcheng Prefecture was no more than a small county town.

But after waiting for a long time without being summoned, he left the side room and headed farther inside.

Zi Bofeng had been to Mengcheng Prefecture before and knew his way around. He went straight toward the Prefect's study, but he had only taken a few steps when a man came striding toward him, his sleeves flowing.

He blocked him from the left. Then he blocked him from the right.

Zi Bofeng stared at the man in silence, his expression cold.

He really didn't want to talk to him.

"Well, well, if it isn't the great scholar Zi!" Ever since Hu Caijun had become the Prefect's secretary, he had treated everyone with courtesy and respect, maintaining the image of a studious, conscientious man. But this fellow standing before him was clearly an exception. They had already torn off the mask between them once—why bother pretending now?

Hearing the man's voice, like that of a madam beside some famous courtesan in the capital, Zi Bofeng couldn't help sighing. He was about to retort mockingly, but in the end he held back and gave a slight bow. "I've come to see the Prefect."

"The Prefect is busy with official business. He has no time to see you right now." As the Prefect's secretary, Hu Caijun was theoretically supposed to announce the arrival of scholars and men of letters who came to see the Prefect. He would, of course, pass along the others' requests, and even tell them what the Prefect liked to help win their gratitude. But as for Zi Bofeng—

He could wait until the seas ran dry and the stones crumbled, and perhaps knock a few hundred wooden fish into splinters while he was at it. There was no way he'd get to see the Prefect. What kind of trouble could a bookworm, with his nose buried in his books and his ears deaf to the world, possibly stir up?

To be honest, Hu Caijun looked down on Zi Bofeng. He was just a dullard who had read himself stupid. A man like that ought to go back to his mountain village and bury himself in the classics. Making him an official would be a crime against the people.

It didn't take much thought to see why Zi Bofeng had come to meet the Prefect: taxes. A dullard like him would do anything for a scrap of scholarly integrity. But was pleading for the people something one could just do on a whim? Even if the man got himself battered and bloody, Hu Caijun didn't need to get involved. The tax issue, however, was something Hu Caijun himself had pushed through. He didn't want it to leave a bad impression on the Prefect. That would be a poor bargain.

Keeping Zi Bofeng from seeing the Prefect was really saving him. Hu Caijun knew better than anyone how to weigh a small benefit against a greater cause. Zi Bofeng was a tiny mantis before a cart. Who would bother to crush him if he weren't blocking the road?

"The Prefect won't see me?" Zi Bofeng gave a cold laugh.

"He won't." Hu Caijun tilted his head. "Go back where you came from."

Zi Bofeng turned and left. Hu Caijun watched him disappear, then returned to his seat, feeling thoroughly satisfied. But as soon as he sat down, he heard the bell and drum outside ringing together.

Every government office had a bell and drum outside for people to sound when seeking justice. By imperial decree, once the bell and drum rang, an official had to appear in court. Yet the bells and drums were sounded so rarely that, ever since Hu Caijun had arrived at Mengcheng Prefecture, he had never once heard them.

"Could it be..." Hu Caijun suddenly jolted. "Zi Bofeng's asking for trouble!"

Even so, his heart pounded, almost beyond his control. Zi Bofeng had actually dared to beat the drum and ring the bell to plead his case!

On the main road outside Meng City, a man on horseback came galloping toward the city. The guards at the gate were just about to stop him when they recognized his face and changed from blocking his way to welcoming him. "General Luo, you've had a hard journey!"

General Luo was travel-worn, but his expression was grave. He didn't say a word, only spurred his horse through the gate and headed straight for Mengcheng Prefecture.

He carried a sealed letter against his chest. Though he hadn't opened it, he knew that what the Prefect feared had come to pass. He had to inform the Prefect as soon as possible. Every extra moment would give them more time to prepare. Otherwise, the Prefect might really lose his official post.

But before he even reached Mengcheng Prefecture, he heard the bell and drum ringing together. Passersby turned to look.

General Luo instinctively pulled on the reins. His galloping steed neighed loudly and reared, then came to a sudden stop.

He gently stroked the restless horse, soothing it as it stamped its hooves, and turned to look.

Outside the government office, which faced south, a young scholar in a blue robe was having the time of his life, holding a drumstick in one hand and striking the bell with the other.

"Outrageous!" The bell and drum were meant for common folk to seek justice. If a scholar wished to make a complaint, he had to follow the proper procedure and submit a written petition. General Luo had served in law enforcement and knew this well. Seeing a scholar beating the drum to plead his case made his anger flare. The Prefect devoted himself day and night to public affairs, exhausting himself for the people, yet these scholars were only adding to his troubles. What shameless behavior!

Luo Qianshan dismounted, beckoned a constable over, and told him to take the horse to the official post station. Then he headed for the government office.

"Who has beaten the drum to plead a case?" A man dressed like a secretary opened the door and came out. "Come in and state your grievance!"

"Your student, Zi Bofeng," Zi Bofeng said loudly, cupping his hands.

Seeing Zi Bofeng, the secretary-looking man felt a bit of a headache coming on. Zi Bofeng was quite well known—one part for his talent, another for his sharp tongue, and yet another for being a jinx.

"Come in!" The secretary stepped aside. Zi Bofeng set down the bell and drum, picked up a wooden box, and went inside.

Record of Raising Monsters