Chapter 5: “If it’s not them who die, it will be you and…”

Chapter 5: "If it hadn’t been them who died, it would be you and…"

Huo Ze was a peacock of a boy.

This wasn’t his first time attending a banquet hosted by the county magistrate, but it was his first time representing the Huo family. He had to make sure he looked his absolute best.

With this in mind, Huo Ze got up early in the morning to fuss over his clothes and accessories.

No matter which outfit he tried on, the maids and servants all praised him for looking handsome.

Huo Ze was heartbroken by their half-hearted praise.

He knew he was devilishly handsome, effortlessly charming, and utterly irresistible—able to sweet-talk elders out of extra pocket money and con a kid out of his candy—but couldn’t the maids and servants at least *try* to sound sincere?

Couldn’t they at least use a different word?

Huo Ze was utterly disappointed in them. Clutching his clothes, he stormed off to find Huo Ling and begged her for help.

Huo Ling had an eye for style and knew Huo Ze’s preferences well, so she quickly helped him put together a suitable outfit.

Huo Ze changed into the clothes and twirled in front of the bronze mirror, preening like a peacock.

"Elder Sister has such a good eye. This outfit elevates my nine-out-of-ten looks to a solid ten."

Wu Mo, standing nearby, barely held back a snort.

A kid his age, no matter how good-looking, could hardly be described as devilishly handsome or effortlessly charming.

Huo Ling also smiled and instructed Huo Ze’s servant, "Find that gold pendant I gave him last time and have him wear it to the banquet."

With the gold pendant, Huo Ze strutted even harder, tilting his chin high, convinced he now possessed ten points of handsomeness and eleven points of wealth.

Brimming with enough confidence to outshine the sun, Huo Ze swaggered off to the banquet.

With the steward accompanying him, Huo Ling wasn’t worried about Huo Ze running into trouble.

But seeing Fang Shi’s motherly worry, Huo Ling reassured her, "Mother usually retires early. Why not return to your room and rest? I’ll stay in the hall and wait for A Ze. There’s something I’d like to ask him anyway."

Wu Mo fished out a deck of playing cards and asked Huo Ling if she wanted to play.

The two played cards while waiting for Huo Ze.

The banquet didn’t run late. Around eight in the evening, Huo Ze returned.

Wu Mo, her face covered in losing slips, looked up with an expression of relief. "Young Master, you’re finally back!"

Huo Ling tossed down her last card, picked up a slip, and stuck it right between Wu Mo’s eyebrows, making her jerk her head back. Only then did she turn to Huo Ze.

He was practically vibrating with excitement—clearly, not only had he not suffered any grievances, but he’d also had a great time.

Huo Ze was a born storyteller. He vividly recounted the events of the banquet, acting it out with grand gestures.

To summarize: in previous years, the various families could brush off the magistrate with a mere few dozen taels of silver, but this year, the Huo family had raised the magistrate’s expectations! If anyone still tried to lowball him like that now, they’d be treating him like a fool!

Huo Ze curled his lip disdainfully. "For them, this is chump change, but you should’ve seen their faces—like they’d been asked to donate a kidney."

Wu Mo stifled a laugh and handed him a cup of tea. "Young Master, you’ve been talking for so long. You must be thirsty. Have some water to soothe your throat."

Huo Ling asked, "They didn’t hassle you, did they?"

After drinking the tea, his throat felt much better. Huo Ze set down the teacup and said, "I'm only twelve. Any one of them could be old enough to be my father—they’d lose face picking on a kid."

They didn’t dare embarrass themselves openly, but backhanded comments were unavoidable.

Faced with their bitter, sniping remarks, Huo Ze simply pretended to be too naive and innocent to understand.

If anyone shamelessly kept going, he just dug in and stuffed his face.

Magistrate Qiu was a real piece of work. While Huo Ze was busy devouring food, the magistrate watched him with doting concern, repeatedly saying, "Slow down, don’t choke," and "You’re still growing, so you should eat more." Then he’d turn to the guests with sour expressions and cheerfully ask, "Why aren’t you eating?" or "Is the food not to your liking?"

His manners were impeccable, leaving no room for criticism—yet it still left them choking on their own frustration.

Recalling that scene, Huo Ze still grinned at the memory.

Huo Ling then asked about the total amount of money and grain raised by the county office during the public fundraising drive.

Since it was a public effort, the total was naturally transparent.

Huo Ze reported an exact figure.

Having managed shops for years and reviewed account books every month, Huo Ling had a sharp eye for figures: "Excluding the county’s original reserves and our family’s donation, just the funds raised tonight could sustain two thousand refugees."

Huo Ze remained unmoved by the number. With a serious expression, he brought up another matter: "Sis, Father always reminds us to be kind to others. He also says we’re not natives of Yong’an County—if we want to put down roots here, we shouldn’t offend the local gentry too much."

"Judging by their expressions tonight, they’ve surely taken offense now. They think we’re not playing along, refusing to stand with them."

"That was then, this is now," Huo Ling replied, shaking her head. "Don’t lose sleep over their opinions."

When interests align, people naturally stand together. But the Huo family’s goals differed from theirs—they weren’t even playing the same game anymore.

"Besides, what we’re doing benefits them too."

Huo Ze was surprised and quickly asked why.

Huo Ling said, "Mark my words. When wealthy families in other counties are arrested and their houses stripped bare, they’ll realize the situation."

Huo Ze: "...Y-you can’t mean..."

The corners of Huo Ling’s lips curved slightly, but her eyes were ice-cold: "If it’s not them who die, it’ll be you and your family. What choice would you make?"

Faced with this version of his sister, Huo Ze felt a chill down his spine.

He swallowed hard. Seeing that Huo Ling was still waiting for his answer, he thought carefully and finally understood: "Then they’re the ones who’ll burn."

The relief efforts had to be implemented quickly. If the county’s elites merely donated some money and grain to appease the authorities, it wouldn’t be a major crime. But if they also hoarded grain, jacked up prices, and sold at exorbitant rates, then they couldn’t blame Magistrate Qiu for being ruthless—turning their private granaries into public property.

***

Western Yan region, Changle County.

The name "Changle" (常乐, "Eternal Joy"), much like "Yong’an" (永安, "Eternal Peace"), had its origins in the early years of the preceding dynasty.

But just as Yong’an County rarely knew true peace, Changle County had always been a key battleground.

It was only half a day’s journey from Xingtang Pass. Since Prince Duan arrived at the frontlines, he had been staying in the Changle County office.

Officially, Prince Duan was the Military Commissioner sent by the court. But his role didn’t involve direct command—his main duties were overseeing logistics, coordinating equipment, and stabilizing the situation in Western Yan.

In the study, Prince Duan was going over the latest dispatches.

The room was as warm as spring, the silence broken only by the crisp rustling of turning pages.

After a long while, Prince Duan picked up his brush and signed his name beneath the names and official seals of He Tai, the chief commander of Xingtang Pass, and Zhou Jiamu, the deputy commander, before stamping it with his princely seal.

"Send someone in."

The guard stationed outside the door entered promptly—it was Fang Jianbai.

Dressed in the attire of a Royal Guard, Fang Jianbai stood at attention. "Your Highness, what are your orders?"

Prince Duan gestured to the battle report. "Have this dispatched to the capital by swift horse."

Fang Jianbai saluted and left.

Suddenly recalling another matter, Prince Duan asked, "Five days have passed. Have any counties submitted reports on disaster relief efforts?"

Fang Jianbai replied respectfully, "There are three reports, delivered just this morning. I'll retrieve them for Your Highness at once."

Hearing there were only three reports, Prince Duan remarked without inflection, "After years of peace and no warfare in Yanxi, officials have grown increasingly slack in their duties."

Fang Jianbai held his tongue and merely lowered his head.

With no immediate matters, Prince Duan rose and walked to the antique shelf. Initially intending to admire the red coral tree gifted by a local official, his eyes fell instead on the white arrow feather he had tossed into a vase—and the red hair ribbon entwined around it.

Snowflakes swirling, mountains standing stark, a splash of vibrant color had appeared unexpectedly on the desolate official road.

Its arrival was startling, and its departure even more abrupt, like a mysterious, fleeting vision.

A knock sounded at the door. Fang Jianbai entered the study with the reports in hand and handed them to Prince Duan before preparing to bow and withdraw. Yet, as he lowered his eyes, he stopped dead, catching sight of that familiar hair ribbon.

The moment the reports were handed to him, Prince Duan noticed something unusual.

The two beneath were of normal thickness—why was the top one so thick?

Just as he was about to open it for closer inspection, he noticed Fang Jianbai still standing frozen before him. Frowning, Prince Duan said, "Why are you still here?"

Not daring to delay further, Fang Jianbai retreated. Once the door closed behind him, his mind raced even more wildly.

That hair ribbon...

No, impossible, he thought.

He immediately dismissed the absurd notion. Since arriving at the frontlines, Prince Duan had never left Changle County. How could he possibly know A Ling?

Inside the room, Prince Duan opened the report and skimmed through it rapidly, reading it twice before closing it. "No wonder the little-known official from Yong'an County was the first to complete the disaster relief mission," he thought.

After reviewing the other two reports, Prince Duan drummed his fingers against the documents.

The slow progress of disaster relief across Yanxi's counties deeply disappointed him. It seemed he would need to take a few days to personally inspect each county.