Chapter Ninety-Four: A Disaster Without Cause

Yian urged him earnestly, “Brother Yan, I think you should calm down first. The Yanbei Dynasty is corrupt, yes, but its roots run deep. With your strength alone, I fear you cannot shake such a colossal beast.”

He had truly only mentioned it in passing, but looking at Yan Chixia now, it was obvious he was about to raise the banner of revolt the very next moment.

Yian could not help imagining the transformation of a chivalrous wanderer into a rebel in his mind.

The scene was almost too painful to behold.

“Huh? Brother Yi, are you misunderstanding something? I never said I was going right now. I merely sat too long and stood up to loosen my muscles.”

Yan Chixia glanced at him in surprise and said, “I don’t have ambitions that grand. To crown myself king or emperor would be nothing but another kind of bondage. And you needn’t tell me—I know that road is far beyond me. I have no such lofty aspirations.”

“In truth, to guard my own little patch of land, do what lies within my power, and live as I please—would that not be far happier? Why should I force myself to become the sort of person I despise?”

“Besides, I know my own limits. Even if Yanbei Dynasty were placed in my hands, I may not necessarily do any better.”

“As my master said, with the Dao and its lamp as companions, tempering the heart amid the rolling red dust, beneath heaven I am free to wander at ease!”

At that, Yian’s face stiffened at once.

So you already saw through everything, and were just making a fool of me here.

...

After resting for a night, just as they were preparing to leave the Orchid Temple and continue north, they suddenly heard a clamorous uproar ahead.

Before long, more than a dozen constables appeared before them and quickly closed in.

“I’m afraid they mean trouble. Best be cautious,” Yian said with a frown, giving Yan Chixia a warning.

Yan Chixia nodded solemnly. He too held no fondness for these officers; the ones who oppressed people most ruthlessly were often precisely these harsh enforcers.

Very soon, the dozen or so constables had surrounded them tightly, leaving not the slightest gap, afraid that one careless moment would let them escape.

“Where are you from? What business brings you to this ruined temple?” the head constable asked coldly, staring them down.

“We are travelers. As for what business, what is that to you?”

Yan Chixia sneered, “How strange. Since when does a wandering priest need to report himself to the authorities?”

In truth, he had never intended to pick a fight with these constables. It was only that the moment they began speaking in the tone of interrogating criminals, he could not tolerate it.

Especially with that haughty, superior expression—it was utterly outrageous.

As for the saying that commoners should not contend with officials, it did not apply to him. Let alone minor clerks; even their county magistrate or city lord would not make Yan Chixia flinch.

Moreover, in strict terms, he did not belong to the ranks of commoners. From the day he joined the Office of Strange Talents, he became a special existence above ordinary officials.

Even the nobles had no right to command members of the Office.

It could be said that the Office of Strange Talents was a sharp blade hanging over countless heads; with the slightest misstep, people would lose their lives.

Punishing the wicked, eradicating demons and evil spirits—these were the duties of its members. They did not even need to obey orders from above; when faced with treachery and evil, they possessed the power of life and death, with the right to strike first and report later.

The Office of Strange Talents had been established during the reign of the founding emperor. To prevent later generations from abusing power and reducing the office’s former authority to a laughingstock, the founding emperor specially laid down ancestral rules: no one was permitted to interfere in the office’s internal decisions. Not even the emperor himself had the right to directly command it. Yet the office’s chief was tasked with assisting and supporting the emperor. The reason for this rule was that the founding emperor feared later rulers might become foolish and overuse the office; if that happened, Yanbei would likely be not far from ruin.

Was not the fallen emperor of the previous dynasty destroyed precisely because of his own incompetence, bringing down the vast empire in his hands?

The founding emperor did not seek for Yanbei to stand unshaken for ten thousand years, only that it might endure as long as possible.

As for each successive chief of the Office of Strange Talents, every one of them was personally chosen by the previous chief. This was done to prevent the office from falling into the hands of the treacherous and wicked. Only through hereditary transmission, passed from generation to generation, could the office be protected to the greatest extent.

History proved that this method was indeed effective. At the very least, in the several centuries since, the Office of Strange Talents had never suffered any crisis that shook its foundations.

Thus, if Yan Chixia judged the official before him to be a villainous sort, he could eradicate him at any time with full justification.

“Hmph!”

“Fine, then. So that’s it—he’s a thieving Taoist priest after all. In this desolate wilderness, who but a good man would come to such a place? I knew it: you are clearly the true culprit who murdered Wang Shaocai last night!”

“Truly, after wearing out iron shoes in vain, one finds the prize without even trying!”

The head constable looked at Yan Chixia in surprise. Especially seeing the other man’s unruffled expression, he could not help being taken aback. Since when did common folk stop fearing officials?

Still, that suited him fine. Judging by their appearance, they were clearly no ordinary villagers; nine times out of ten, they were either wicked or dangerous.

At first he had worried he might wrongly accuse a good person, and felt somewhat uneasy about it. But now it seemed his concern had been completely unnecessary.

It turned out that just yesterday, the son of County Magistrate Wang, Wang Shaocai, had suddenly gone missing, with no news of him at all.

County Magistrate Wang had only that one son. Upon hearing the news, he was frantic with anxiety and immediately summoned all the constables then on duty in Guobei County to begin an overwhelming search.

It was not until near nightfall, at the foot of this barren mountain, that someone finally found traces of Wang Shaocai. By the time the constables arrived, Wang Shaocai was already completely dead. There were no wounds or marks on his body; apart from his ghastly pallor, there was nothing unusual about him.

Even the county coroner could not determine the true cause of death.

The head constable could still vividly remember the expression on County Magistrate Wang’s face when he learned of it. Thinking of that, he could not help shivering. The magistrate had already issued them a final ultimatum: if they could not solve the case within three days, then his time as head constable would be over.

In that regard, his anxiety was no less than the magistrate’s. During the years he had served as head constable, he had grown used to acting tyrannically and had made countless enemies. Those people had never dared oppose him openly before only because they feared the power in his hands.

If he were stripped of office, the head constable did not dare think further.

He immediately gathered all his resolve, sealed off the entire barren mountain at once, and began a thorough, carpet-like search, not daring to miss a single corner. Yet just as they were about to finish searching, the killer still had not shown himself, and this made him nearly frantic.

At the very moment he was burning with anxiety, Yian and Yan Chixia happened to appear at just the right time.