Volume II: The Bandits of This Place, Chapter 90: Turn Justice a New Page

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Lin Peiyou sat on the south side of the room, reading by lamplight through the night, troubled in thought.
The wax seal on the letter had been broken open, and the rebukes within had come spilling out as well, words crashing over him until he seemed drenched in blood-red shame.
What had he done wrong? Lin Peiyou felt deeply wronged. He dared not disobey his father’s order, yet could opening a school and teaching the people be a crime? His father, he thought, ought to have come to Xieli Town and seen for himself how those once-rustic men now display such elegant propriety.
With that thought gnawing at him, he wrote another letter to his father.
Had he not been taught by one of the most respected teachers in the northern lands?
“To set one’s heart for Heaven and Earth, to set the people’s life and fate…” he opened with, if not a declaration, then a confession of purpose.
…
Lin Changtian held a stalk of rice straw in his mouth, poked it around, and snapped at the sobbing Kui Sheng in a harsh voice. “Stop howling. If trouble comes later, keep an eye on your head.”
“For days he has not fed me enough, yet he makes me pull money from my own sash. You—any wealthy merchant would cry to see you,” Kui Sheng said, wiping his eyes, sniffling.
Lin Changtian patted his head and said quietly, “Good. I have gotten what I wanted. When you return to Sishan, do as you like; I won’t stop you.”
“Truly?”
“Could there be falsehood in this?”
Kui Sheng nodded hard, already dreaming of the future, excitement alive in him.
Lin Changtian laughed with a shadow of cunning. A trick that promised profits for a capitalist was a handy tool indeed; whether or not the bait suited one’s appetite was only a matter of turning the tongue.
“Hey, the greedy pup is coming. Mind yourself.”
Seeing a man in official robes, Lin Changtian from afar offered him an exacting bow.
His face was all deference, while his mouth had no trouble insulting that man’s clan and ancestors.
The man straightened his back and lifted his chin proudly, not minding his mutterings, as though such contempt from lowborn men was daily fare.
“How are your preparations? If one cannot fill one’s own belly, then fixing a footing here for foreign traders is no easy matter.” He had not even finished stepping into place when he stretched out his hand before Lin Changtian, as if some rebuke still clung to him.
Lin Changtian pointed toward the back alley and, bowing low, said, “Lord Wen, the coins and silver are ready. I only ask you to settle it in the lane. You know how it is… I heard someone up above has recently been strict about purifying morals and cracking down hard.”
“Hmph. You are merely a brat leaning on your father’s shadow. Men like my clerks can be manipulated with ease, but your kind of outsider had better keep your ears shut, earn by proper means, and send us your share. It is not for me to boast; in this patch of Xieli, if you offer enough respect and tribute, there is no need to trouble yourself with anything else!”
Kui Sheng’s mockery vanished in an instant. He accompanied Lord Wen and his two retainers inside with a smile.
Lin Changtian half-crouched at the alley mouth, took advantage of the empty midnight streets, moved slowly toward a house under Wen’s ancestral plaque, nailed a letter beneath it, tossed three coins, and before anyone could blink he had vanished.
From deeper in the lane came a few cries. A patrolman passing by drew his sword and rushed in. There lay an open chest of money, and… several bloody, mangled bodies.
Kui Sheng was elsewhere in another lane, praising Chen Mo for his swift hands.

By the next day Xieli seemed ready to boil over. Lin Peiyou sat dark-faced, listening to Lord Wen’s wife pour out her complaints without end.
“You must investigate this properly. My husband has always been faithful and diligent to Lord Lin Yuan. Who would have imagined he was punished because he was too obedient? This is the letter nailed to our gate yesterday, full of threats.”
The woman looked devastated, wrapped in plain white, though her makeup was unnaturally lush. She wept and turned her body, sending flirtatious looks at one of her husband’s former colleagues.
She did not look as though she carried the kind of bleeding grief she spoke of.

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Lin Peiyou narrowed his eyes and read the letter from beginning to end. Its lines were all discontent over the New Reforms, and at the end was a sentence explaining why Wen Qian had to be killed: he had been too obedient, too proper, too easy to hold in check...
“And they wanted to threaten the other officials by this too,” Lin Peiyou shouted, striking the table, though barely a trace of real anger touched his face.
To call a dog “too obedient” is praise of one’s master’s mastery in command, is it not?
The magistrates of Xieli murmured agreement, and Liu Shiyong at their head looked alarmingly “uneasy,” but then added in a casual tone, “Young master, no one can doubt Lord Wen’s loyalty. You should not make yourself sick over this. For what among us is not loyal and faithful like Lord Wen? It is only that at the time of his death, the worldly items by his side seem… somewhat beyond his station.”
“That is the chest of silver and money suddenly beside him when he died,” Lin Peiyou glanced at him, clearly displeased by the latter words. “Likely a frame-up by brigands. His reputation should not be stained by that.”
Liu Shiyong twitched his beard and with a soft smile returned to his place.

A commotion rose suddenly at the gate of the Wen household, and the din only heightened Lin Peiyou’s irritation.
“Others are mourning in their own homes. How can there be such clamour outside?” he said, and without listening to Liu Shiyong’s “protest” he strode out with cold fury.
A dark crowd had heaped itself at the gate, shouting.
Lin Peiyou knit his brow and pointed at the throng. “Whence do these ruffians come? Why disturb a family in mourning?”
A way opened in the crowd; a gentleman-like man stepped out, carried forward by his servant.
“Tell you plainly: Lord Wen was never mean to people like us. We came specifically to offer our condolences after hearing he had been treacherously struck.” The man slid down from his servant’s shoulders and immediately scolded him with a vicious bark: “You cur! You have eaten my rice every day and still do nothing! You can’t even go a few steps without gasping—what use are you anyway?”
The rebuked servant trembled to the point he could scarcely form a proper word.

“That at least counts as intention, and Lin Peiyou’s tone softened, pointing at Kui Sheng. “This man appears to serve you, but under the New Reforms there is no place for keeping personal slaves. That means he is only your subordinate. Why so much beating? Do you know this violates Xieli law?”
The gentleman seemed to want to speak and stop at once, hesitating for a while before asking, “May I ask which officer in this prefecture you are?”
“What has it to do with whether I hold office? Is speech now judged by a person’s title? Did the New Reforms not make it plain? An official should kneel to serve the people, not make them fear!” Lin Peiyou snapped, clearly displeased by this man’s repeated evasions.
The gentleman shook his head with calculated disdain. “I beg your pardon, but I have no answer for that. You are neither an official nor a lord from an old household. By what right do you command others so?”
“Oh? Is that really how it works?” Lin Peiyou gave a cold snort, turned his eyes, and, with hands folded behind him, feigned hauteur: “I am merely testing you. Do you think the one who arranges the frontage of the Wen household is some ordinary fellow?”
As expected, the gentleman answered just as Lin predicted, startled and exclaiming repeatedly. He patted his own head and hurriedly made a bow. “My fault. Whoever could do this must be no less than one of Lord Wen’s rank. Ah, this is only trouble for me. Since when have I seen these New Reforms? Xieli has never dared to change!”
“Repair schools so everyone may read. Restrain the great families, remove ignorance, let the people live with dignity. Open commerce and invite traders so the town prospers. These reforms have been in place for so long—you have not seen their trace?” Lin Peiyou snapped his fingers, and as the crowd surged toward the gate his anger grew harder to hold.
“I have seen them, how could I not? But how is it they are only on paper? No one has ever taken those down from the boards!” the gentleman pointed toward a distant placard.
Words on paper have never, to anyone, become deeds.
Lin Peiyou’s face blazed red; he seized the gentleman by the collar and shouted, “What nerve you have in trying to frame the town’s officials? Which of them is not a man toiling to the bone for the people, that you dare slander them?”
“I have no nerve, lord,” said the gentleman, shaking off Lin Peiyou’s hand and gesturing to the magistrates behind him. “There is a school, yes, but it has always barred those not born of great houses. What of people living with dignity? A man like me still lives by breathing another’s permission; I need not speak of others. As for trade, who would dare offer less tribute than required to Lord Wen? If I have such nerve to speak of these things, I may not survive till morning. Yet how could I take up the widely known truth of Xieli and frame the magistrates of this town? I beg you to judge clearly.”
Lin Peiyou calmed then; he knew there were many people watching him from every side.

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“Then let us investigate fully. If there is any shameful dealings, justice will be given in full.”
The gentleman adjusted his garments, eyes glittering, voice calm. “Then please, young master, translate for me what you mean by justice.”
The “gentry” was, of course, Lin Changtian, and the servant in plain dress beside him was unmistakably Kui Sheng.
“Do you truly not know what justice is?” Lin Peiyou frowned, thinking this was a deliberate attempt to argue.
Lin Changtian set his neck stiffly and said, “Without schooling, one would naturally not know.”
“Even if one never studied, one still understands what the words of destiny and duty mean to those who carry them on their tongues for hundreds of years!” Lin Peiyou shouted.
To all present, this seemed a dialogue between an ant and a lion.
Lin Changtian flung aside his robe, pointed upward, and cried, “Then you had better explain it! Why has justice, hanging in everyone’s mouths for hundreds of years, never been opened up and explained by anyone?”
“You really want me to translate it?” Lin Peiyou’s throat veins stood out as he pressed his knife toward Lin Changtian.
The officials looked at Liu Shiyong as if he might mediate, but when Liu advanced one step, even he recoiled from the cold, marrow-deep glint in Lin Peiyou’s eyes.
He staggered back and fell silent.
In his youth Liu Shiyong had once glimpsed the warlord of the Western Frontier from afar; the ruthless ferocity of that warlord on the field had been, to Liu, a forbidden sight.
Could one truly say one who bore a tiger’s father is never a dog-son?

“Then do please translate for me what you claim is this so-called justice!” Lin Changtian stood straight, ignoring the officials’ hungry stares, not yielding even one inch.
This was, in truth, the first meeting between the warlord of Sishan and the lord of Xieli.
Their hot breath struck each other’s faces, as if they had each emptied the venom in their hearts in one clean act of argument.
“I’ll explain it,” Lin Peiyou said. “Starting tomorrow, I will investigate all of Xieli thoroughly. I want to see if this justice can truly be made plain.” He cut with his blade into a stone post, splitting a long crack through it.
“You need not wait for tomorrow. Come with me once, and everything will be clear.”
Lin Peiyou stood dumbstruck, then with a stiffened face followed. He still could not bring himself to believe there was anything wrong with his New Reforms.
Chen Ziliang stood with a long spear, imposing and severe, and together with Kui Sheng they swept aside dozens of attendants pressing around; the officials who tried to follow had to halt where they stood.