A Bell and Drum Sound, Officials Ascend the Hall

Chapter 20: The Bell and Drum Sound as the Official Takes the Bench

Zi Bofeng had been working through the nights for days on end, and it was only at the hour of the Rat that he finally managed to clear up the entire set of accounts. Little Stone had long since been carried off to bed by his father. When Zi Bofeng finally finished, he felt his head spinning and his temples throbbing, nearly collapsing to the ground right then and there.

Zi Bofeng had heard the phrase "exhausting one's heart and blood," but he had never truly experienced it until now; he finally understood what it meant.

Not only was his spirit drained, but his spiritual energy was also completely depleted. He walked out the door, the cool night wind blowing against him, which helped clear his head. He looked up toward the mountainside of Bird-Mouse Mountain, where Uncle Blue Rock was inhaling and exhaling spiritual energy in rhythm with the moon. The energy coalesced into a line of text: "Are you well?"

"I am well." Zi Bofeng stretched, his joints popping and cracking, only to hear a series of snores coming from the side. Then, Zi Jian's voice drifted over: "Is it all calculated?"

It was Si Gou who was fast asleep, having laid out a mat on the ground. Zi Jian and Yan Lao Wu were nearby, chatting in hushed tones. It turned out these people had never left.

"It is done." Seeing the concerned faces of his father and Yan Lao Wu, Zi Bofeng smiled. "I have not failed the mission."

Seeing both men staring at him with wide eyes, Zi Bofeng turned back into the house and brought out two account books.

He handed the two books over. Yan Lao Wu flipped through them and immediately glared at him: "Are you trying to slap my face?"

Although Zi Jian found it a bit difficult to read, he could understand the gist. He frowned for a moment and said, "These two—why are the numbers different?"

"They are the same accounts; this one shows the amount is sufficient, and this one shows it is not." Zi Bofeng pointed to the ledger in his father's hands and said, "The accounts for the fifty-third year are all here. Not a single entry is missing."

"Why would they yield different results..." Zi Jian flipped through them; every figure seemed identical.

"Heavenly secrets cannot be revealed." Zi Bofeng yawned. "Tomorrow morning, I will go to pay my respects to the Prefect. Yawn... I am exhausted."

"You have worked hard, Scholar." Yan Lao Wu frowned as he looked at the two books. He couldn't understand them, but he felt something was off.

It was clearly insufficient, yet how did it become sufficient? What kind of trick was this?

However, if he could see through the trick, how could Zi Bofeng continue to get by?

"Our village is truly too poor." He hadn't realized it until he calculated it, and the result was shocking. Zi Bofeng had tallied up the approximate assets of every household in the village, as well as the public property. The numbers were simply far beyond his expectations.

How was such an impoverished village supposed to develop?

Having finished the accounts, Zi Bofeng began to worry about the future.

Regardless of his worries, by the time the sun rose the next day, Zi Bofeng was already prepared to head into the city.

"I will go with you." Zi Jian had long since prepared the carrying pole, and Yan Wu Shi had prepared dry rations.

The two had only taken a few steps when they heard a pattering sound behind them. Little Stone came sprinting over: "Uncle, Brother, I'm going with you!"

The two looked in the direction of Little Stone and saw Yan Wu Shi standing at the doorway, watching them with a look of concern.

"Go back. We will be back tomorrow," Zi Jian said.

Yan Wu Shi smiled and waved, but she remained at the door, refusing to leave. She watched until the figures had completely disappeared before turning back.

When they reached the village entrance, they saw Yan Lao Wu had also followed them. "Lao Si left just a moment ago," he said.

He hadn't come to see off the Zi father and son; he was just squatting at the village entrance, smoking a pipe.

Yan Lao Wu was old, after all, and the journey was long; he had no desire to go. Besides, Zi Bofeng was going to see the Prefect. He had managed Lower Yan Village for decades, yet he didn't even know what the Prefect looked like; going would be useless.

He handed over a small cage and said, "If there is any progress, write a note and send it back so the villagers can be at ease."

Little Stone held the cage in his hands. Inside were two carrier pigeons with red eyes and white feathers. These were the old man's prized possessions; there had been a dozen of them, but most had ended up in the bellies of the mischievous village children. These two were the last survivors.

"Old man, are you sure you can read a note if I write one?" Zi Bofeng had just opened his mouth when he couldn't help but give himself a light slap. This uncontrollable, sharp tongue! Always making snide remarks regardless of the occasion!

"I, your elder, have seventeen characters that are all upright and proper..."

Amidst the old man's habitual grumbling, the three of them set off, carrying their poles, holding their boxes, and clutching the cage as they traveled into the distance.

The gates of Mengcheng were wide open. It wasn't market day, so there was no entry fee. The three members of the Zi family were exhausted from their journey. They set down their loads beneath the city gate to rest for a while and drank some tea to quench their thirst. Afterward, the father and son parted ways; Zi Jian took Little Stone to walk the streets and alleys looking for work, while Zi Bofeng went to the Mengcheng Prefecture alone.

Ten minutes later, Zi Bofeng arrived at the Mengcheng Prefecture. After stating his name and the purpose of his visit, the guards let him into the corridor room to wait until the Prefect was free to see him. Although he was only a minor village head, Mengcheng was, after all, only a small county seat.

But he waited and waited, yet there was no summons from the Prefect. He left the corridor room and walked further inside.

This wasn't his first time at the Mengcheng Prefecture, so Zi Bofeng knew the way well. He headed straight toward the Prefect's study, but he had only taken a few steps when he saw a man walking toward him with his sleeves fluttering.

To the left, he blocked. To the right, he blocked.

Zi Bofeng stared at the man, cold and silent.

He truly did not want to speak to this person.

"Oh, isn't this the great scholar Zi?" Ever since Hu Caijun became the Prefect's secretary, he had been respectful and polite to everyone, maintaining an image of a studious and dutiful man. But the person before him was clearly an exception—they had already torn off the mask once, so what was there to pretend about?

Hearing the tone, which sounded like a brothel madam from the capital, Zi Bofeng couldn't help but sigh. He wanted to retort with sarcasm, but he held it back. He bowed slightly and said, "I am here to see the Prefect."

"The Prefect is busy with official business and has no time to see you now." As the Prefect's secretary, in theory, when scholars came to see the Prefect, it was his job to announce them. For others, he would naturally announce them and even offer tips on the Prefect's preferences to win their gratitude. But as for Zi Bofeng...

Let him wait. Let him wait until the end of time, until water drips through stone, and perhaps he could spend the time breaking a few hundred wooden fish—in any case, he wouldn't be seeing the Prefect. What kind of trouble could a bookworm who ignored the world outside his window possibly cause?

To be honest, Hu Caijun truly looked down on Zi Bofeng. He was nothing more than a fool who had read himself stupid. Such a person should go back to his mountain nest to study his scriptures; being an official was a matter of life and death.

One could guess with their backside that Zi Bofeng was here to see the Prefect regarding taxes. A fool like that, for the sake of a little scholarly integrity, would do anything. Was pleading for the people something one could just do on a whim? Even if he ended up battered and broken, it was none of Hu Caijun's concern. However, the tax issue was something Hu Caijun himself was pushing; he didn't want to leave a bad impression on the Prefect because of this, which would be a loss that outweighed the gain.

Blocking Zi Bofeng from seeing the Prefect was, in fact, saving him. Small gains versus great righteousness—Hu Caijun understood this better than anyone. A tiny Zi Bofeng was nothing more than a mantis in front of a chariot; if he hadn't been blocking the path forward, who would have bothered to step on him?

"The Prefect refuses to see me?" Zi Bofeng gave a cold, mocking smile.

"He refuses." Hu Caijun tilted his head, signaling for him to get lost wherever he came from.

Zi Bofeng turned and left immediately. Only after watching his back disappear did Hu Caijun return inside, feeling quite satisfied. Yet, no sooner had he sat down than he heard the sound of bells and drums ringing out in unison from outside.

Outside every government office stood a bell and drum for the purpose of lodging grievances. By the iron laws of the imperial court, once the bell and drum were struck, the official was required to take the bench. However, the number of times these bells and drums had been struck could be counted on one hand; at the very least, since Hu Caijun had arrived at Mengcheng Prefecture, he had never heard them once.

"Could it be..." Hu Caijun was suddenly startled, "This Zi Bofeng is courting death!"

Even so, his heart began to pound, almost beyond his control. This Zi Bofeng actually dared to strike the grievance drum!

On the official road outside the gates of Mengcheng, a man on horseback came galloping toward the city. The guards at the gate were just about to step forward to intercept him when they saw the man's face and changed their posture from blocking to welcoming: "General Luo, you have worked hard!"

General Luo looked travel-worn but his expression was grave. Without saying a word, he spurred his horse through the city gate and headed straight for the Mengcheng Prefecture.

He carried a secret letter tucked against his chest. Although he had not opened it, he knew that the things the Prefect feared had already come to pass. He had to let the Prefect know as soon as possible; every extra moment meant a bit more time to prepare. If not, heads would truly roll.

Who would have thought that before he even reached the Mengcheng Prefecture, he would hear the bells and drums ringing out, causing pedestrians on the road to cast sidelong glances.

General Luo instinctively pulled on the reins. The galloping steed let out a long, shrill neigh, its front hooves rising into the air as it came to a jarring halt.

Gently stroking his steed, he calmed the mount as it restlessly pawed at the ground, and General Luo turned to look.

Outside the north-facing government office, a young scholar dressed in a green robe held a mallet in one hand and struck the bell with the other, clearly enjoying himself.

"Absurd!" Striking the drum to lodge a grievance was meant for the common folk. If a scholar wished to seek justice, they were required to follow the procedure of submitting a petition. General Luo had once overseen criminal law and naturally understood this; seeing a scholar actually striking the grievance drum, anger flared in his heart. The Prefect was busy with a thousand tasks, exhausting his heart and strength for the people, yet these scholars were adding to the chaos. How shameless.

Luo Qianshan vaulted off his horse, beckoned a bailiff over to take the horse to the post station, and walked toward the office entrance.

"Who strikes the drum to lodge a grievance?" A man dressed as a legal secretary pushed the door open and said, "Come in and state your case!"

"This student is Zi Bofeng," Zi Bofeng cupped his hands and said in a clear, loud voice.

Seeing Zi Bofeng, the man dressed as a legal secretary felt a slight headache. Zi Bofeng's reputation was quite loud; one-third of it was for his talent, another third for his sharp tongue, and the remaining third was for being a jinx.

"Come in!" The secretary turned aside to let him pass. Zi Bofeng set down the mallet and drum, picked up a wooden box, and walked inside.

Record of Raising Monsters