The Qin soldiers quickly took control of the bandit stronghold in a very short amount of time.
The trapped civilians were rescued, each wrapped in thick cotton clothes and blankets. The sun had risen, but large bonfires were lit to warm them up. The meat and mountain delicacies prepared by the bandits were all chopped and thrown into pots to boil over high flames with a handful of salt added to warm their bodies.
If they weren't given nourishment, even if these people were rescued, probably only 70% would survive the descent from the mountain.
The elder, who had nearly hacked the bandit leader into mush, sat on a bed, his thigh wound carelessly wrapped with a piece of torn cloth, as if that was treatment enough. Beside him, on a small table, were the ledgers the Qin soldiers had found.
Under the dim light of the dying candles, the elder flipped through them, and flames seemed to leap from the words into his eyes, his hatred making him grind his teeth.
"No wonder they were so hard to catch... No wonder, no wonder!"
In the ledger, apart from details of what month and day they robbed whom and how much silver coin they obtained, there were records of the County City, along the continuous mountain range, of eighteen interlinked fortresses supporting each other. And on the last page, he even saw some familiar names.
Especially these familiar names, which made the old man's eyes turn slightly red.
"Backstabbing dogs..."
A burly man walked in from the door, clasping his fists and saying:
"Elder, the brothers have found the young man you mentioned."
The old man's eyes brightened, and the fourteen or fifteen-year-old boy who had been taken away earlier entered. The old man let out a sigh of relief, put down the ledger, patted the bed beside him, softened his voice, and smiled:
"Little fellow, come sit."
Wang Anfeng nodded, sitting next to the elder, his brows lowered.
The old man quietly asked if the boy was hurt, his words earnest. Once he confirmed the boy had not been seriously injured, he sighed in relief, then waved for the Qin soldier to bring over a bowl of meat porridge, which he personally handed to Wang Anfeng, saying:
"Have some porridge... warm yourself up."
"It's the Qin family that's failed you, arriving too late... If we had arrived a day earlier, we could have saved the other child..."
The old man's voice deepened into a sigh, Wang Anfeng's expression becoming gloomy. He took the meat porridge and ate in silence, its taste as rough as the Qin family's soldiers. The elder turned the pages of the scroll and occasionally asked Wang Anfeng who had saved him.
The boy replied according to the original plan.
Merely stating it was a person dressed in dark-colored clothes, carrying a bamboo stick, and wearing an iron mask.
This matched exactly what the bandit leader's beautiful wife had said. The elder nodded and did not suspect anything.
He looked again at the names listed in the ledger, his eyes burning with fire.
After eating the meat porridge, wrapped in blankets and heavy clothes, they were escorted down the mountain under the warm midday sun. The corpses of those wrongfully killed, if still intact, were covered with white cloth, to await relatives for a proper burial. The rest were buried under the towering green mountains out of necessity.
Those green mountains were still clean.
After entering the city, Wang Anfeng led the Green-Maned Horse, carrying a qin on his back and a sword, and settled down in an inn within the city.
With the notorious bandits that had plagued the region for years all executed, the news of the victory spread far and wide, with the citizens rushing to tell one another.
The next day, Sun Xingwei, a retired Military Adviser, dragged one of his legs down the bustling streets, past merry song and dance in the brothels, and stopped in front of the government office. He straightened his clothes, raised his hand to grip the brightly red silk-wrapped mallet, and struck the grievance drum with all his might.
The grievance drum sounded twelve times, deep and resonant, echoing through half the County City.
The white-haired old man stood beneath the court of the county office, his voice stern and harsh.
"I accuse the deputy magistrate of this city and six other officials, large and small."
"Of colluding with bandits, with irrefutable evidence, by law they should be executed!"
All present were shocked, yet due to the gravity of the case involving so many people, they were only detained for trial while several others confessed.
The deputy magistrate had many doubts about his case, but according to the Great Qin Legal Code, 'in doubtful cases of the five punishments, there shall be mercy,' and he was released from prison by paying for thirty sets of armor and a thousand tales of silver as military expenses.
When he was released, the white-haired elder blocked the entrance to the county office, his voice hoarse with anger:
"Military expenses! Legal codes!"
"What matters is how many civilians have died unjustly, how many families have been destroyed!"
"Mercy in doubtful cases of the five punishments is for those who still have a chance to turn back, not for these extremely vile criminals to exploit loopholes!"
His angry shouts turned hoarse, his headwear disheveled. Two government officials carried him out, his disheveled white hair and broken leg making a pathetic sight as he shouted indignantly down the long street, his voice filled with bitter sorrow.
That afternoon, the Defending General issued an order for the entire camp to take a three-day leave.
Hundreds of Great Qin iron soldiers shed their armor and sat in plain clothes in front of the government office, silently watching, their aura of impending doom growing denser.
The atmosphere in the entire County City became oppressive; even the ordinary citizens unconsciously lowered their voices when speaking. The snack vendor, seeing the iron soldiers who had sat without food or drink for more than a day, as well as the stubborn elder at the very front, sighed helplessly.
He handed over the freshly made breakfast to the boy in front, his face still wearing a smile:
"Young master, here's your breakfast."
The boy in front handed over a few Datong Currency coins and took the snacks. Biting into them, they were crispy and soft. He seemed to ask casually:
"These iron soldiers sitting ... Is it okay?"
The vendor didn't wish to speak much, but his heart was truly upset. He looked around and sighed quietly, "What could go wrong?"
"They've removed their armor and they're on leave now."
"At this time, as a mere citizen of Great Qin, if one wishes to sit on the main street without violating the Great Qin Legal Code, who would care? Who would dare to interfere?"
Once he started talking, it was like opening a floodgate of complaints:
"In my opinion, those sons of bitches deserve to be beheaded."
"But our Great Qin legalists follow the law when executing punishment. Without conclusive evidence... we cannot sentence them."
"Now six people have already been sent to death row, their families have received compensation and are just grinding their teeth waiting for the day of execution. Yet Sun Xingwei still fixates on the County Magistrate... It's not like it was his family who died, ah, it's making it hard for me to do business..."
The voice dropped to a whisper, glancing left and right, he secretly spoke into Wang Anfeng's ear:
"It's quite likely he plans to use this opportunity to topple the Deputy County Magistrate and take his place..."
The peddler prattled on about many things, but Wang Anfeng hardly listened, returning to the inn, feeling only oppression in his heart.
He had also looked through those ledgers.
The evidence was irrefutable.
Two days passed, and, as expected, the iron troops had no choice but to leave. Apart from a few of the County Magistrate's men, everyone was sentenced to death row. Sun Xingwei, due to old age and frailty coupled with his injuries, stayed sick at home, no longer receiving visitors, a stark contrast to the bustle that greeted his initial return.
Only the Deputy County Magistrate personally went to visit, but he was furiously rebuked and turned away by the old man.
Wang Anfeng, carrying a portion of pork belly, exhaled in front of the slightly peeling wooden door and gently knocked. It was opened by an old woman with a kind face, her eyes slightly red as if she had just stopped crying. The young man stated his purpose, and he was welcomed inside.
Moving to the inner room, the old scholar, with his white hair spreading out, was draped in clothes as he wrote at the desk, pausing occasionally to cough violently.
Upon seeing Wang Anfeng come in, he was momentarily stunned, then welcomed the young man with a smile. Despite his weakness, he insisted on brewing tea for the youth, covering up what he was writing. They only chatted and joked about other matters, but the young man's sharp eyes had already seen everything clearly.
The old man had not given up, although everyone else thought there was no chance left.
Although the townsfolk thought that the deaths of the remaining six would be enough...
Although even the victims had fallen silent.
Yet there was still an old scholar with white hair who thought it was not enough, who felt a need to seek justice for those who died unjustly. So here he was in this small room, standing firm even as everyone turned their backs on him, even as others complained.
He stubbornly held his head high, his disheveled white hair framing his fierce gaze at those high and mighty pests above, issuing his roar of rage.
The young man's expression was somber.
So Great Qin remains Great Qin.
The mighty Great Qin.
After a short talk, the sun passed midday. The old man asked Wang Anfeng to stay for a meal; the youth nodded and eagerly volunteered to cook. He chopped the pork belly and washed it, but noticed they were missing ginger, so he smiled and said he would go out to buy some.
He went to the market to buy a big piece of ginger, and just as he passed the mansion of the Deputy County Magistrate, turned at a deserted corner and softly said:
In a flash of light, a young man in black who covered his face with the Bi'an mask emerged and leaped into the mansion.
The mansion was large but employed few servants. Wang Anfeng sneaked into the main hall where the scholarly-looking Deputy County Magistrate was drinking alone, his face flushed with pleasure, content in his solitude.
In his mind, no one in the County City could assassinate him, and no one dared to kill him.
Just then, the wooden door burst open. A figure in black shot in like a bolt of lightning. The cultured man was momentarily stunned as a streak of purple light flashed in his wide eyes, piercing his throat in the blink of an eye, while his mind still couldn't accept the reality.
How dare he... Isn't he afraid of dying...
Wang Anfeng exhaled and stepped back, glancing at the four characters for "immense righteousness" hanging in the hall. With his bamboo stick, he dipped it in blood to write over the paper, the strokes sharp and revealing only a sense of solemnity.
Great Qin Legal Code, conspiring with thieves is punishable by exile to three thousand miles. In the case of officials, the punishment is increased by one degree, death.
Turning to leave, he remembered the old scholar and the fervent soldiers of Great Qin. His steps paused, lifting a trace of blood to write:
The murderer, forgetful of the 'Intent Hard to Calm'.
Striding out without fleeing, he held the bamboo staff and charged straight out, beating the household and guarding officials until they were black and blue, then vanished without a trace. A few skilled guards pursued with swords, but lost track of the youth in an alley.
A maid rushed into the main hall, confronted by the sight of the Deputy County Magistrate with eyes wide open in death, and the blood writing over the phrase "immense righteousness," the word "kill" dominating half the space, its ferocity making her collapse to the ground, screaming.
The County City instantly erupted into chaos, but in a quiet corner, there was warm and peaceful sunlight and enticing smells of cooking, where an old wooden door was gently knocked.
The old woman opened the door to see the clean smile of the youth outside and the ginger in his hands, a tender smile spreading across her face.
"You've bought it already? You're quite fast."
The wooden door closed, separating inside from outside...
There were the youth and the old scholar.
There were stubborn scholars and law-breaking heroes.
So Great Qin remains Great Qin.
The mighty Great Qin.
PS: It's a long chapter, please support...