Chapter Thirty-Three: The Challenge in the Arena

Hou Fangyu stood transfixed, staring at the scene before him. Only after a long moment of astonishment did he finally come to his senses. The fierce, scarred-faced warrior had just been utterly ignored by Qin Xia! In Hou’s mind, this burly fighter, clearly a man who had taken lives before, should have been enough to inspire dread in anyone—yet he hadn’t fazed Qin Xia in the slightest!

Was this truly a scholar, a member of the literati?

The attire of the Ministry of Revenue official on Qin Xia’s body revealed Zhu Cilang’s identity—clearly, he was a civil servant. Yet the situation unfolding made another truth abundantly clear: Zhu Cilang was certainly no ordinary bureaucrat.

Completely disregarded by Zhu Cilang, Liu Yongquan’s expression changed drastically. He gripped the long saber pressed to his chest even tighter, his right hand twitching as if ready to draw the blade and kill. But Zhu Cilang paid him no heed at all, his gaze fixed directly on the main entrance of the Bamboo and Timber Extraction Office.

Unable to withstand the silent, powerful pressure of Zhu Cilang’s indifferent stare, even the rough men blocking the road before the office began to retreat one after another.

Meanwhile, to the north of the city, a lone rider galloped swiftly toward the rear gate of the Bamboo and Timber Extraction Office.

Just as Liu Yongquan seemed truly on the verge of drawing his sword, a man atop the office wall, in his nervous haste, accidentally knocked a tile loose. It fell to the ground with a sharp crack.

At the sound, Liu Yongquan furrowed his brow and pulled back, glancing behind him at the office gate.

Sure enough, after having been shut for ages, the main doors of the Bamboo and Timber Extraction Office slowly swung open under the watchful gaze of a thousand onlookers.

Zhu Cilang’s sharp eyes darted past the sturdy Liu Pei standing in the doorway and caught the hurried figures of Chu Lushan and Fan Wenju, trying to conceal themselves in a corner.

At this, Zhu Cilang allowed himself a silent, faint smile.

He then turned his attention fully to Liu Pei.

When Zhu Cilang met Liu Pei’s gaze, he realized the other had already been sizing him up for some time. At that moment, Zhu Cilang recalled what he knew of Liu Pei. The Bamboo and Timber Extraction Office in Linqing, under the Ministry of Works, was structured much like the Taxation Sub-Bureau under the Ministry of Revenue: both were outposts of the Six Ministries, with their heads drawn from local magistrates, censors from the Censorate, or officials appointed from within the ministries themselves.

Clearly, the headship of this office was a civil position. Yet Liu Pei before him bore none of a scholar’s manner. In fact, Zhu Cilang’s instincts were correct: Liu Pei had never been a civil official, but rather the master craftsman of a kiln since childhood. Years before, when the court established a Construction Sub-Bureau in Linqing, it managed local brickmaking. At its height, over a million bricks were produced annually from more than three hundred kilns. Liu Pei had been the chief craftsman of the largest kiln—a hereditary family position.

Of course, such a role was neither prestigious nor powerful; though he commanded hundreds of strong men, he was still a craftsman, not even a minor official.

Ordinarily, such a background would never have led to a sixth-rank position in the Ministry of Works. But Liu Pei’s distant uncle, Liu Zeqing, had suddenly risen in the world. Leveraging this, Liu Pei quickly established a thriving commercial enterprise in Linqing, reaping hefty profits year after year and earning Liu Zeqing’s favor.

Eventually, with Liu Zeqing’s patronage, Liu Pei advanced from kiln foreman to a ninth-rank official in the Construction Sub-Bureau. When Liu Zeqing personally escorted Zhou Yanru north from Linqing two years prior and resumed his post as Commander-in-Chief of Shandong, Liu Pei finally climbed to his current position as head of the Bamboo and Timber Extraction Office.

Thus, Liu Pei’s robust physique was hardly that of a scholar.

Yet Liu Pei’s feelings mirrored Zhu Cilang’s in a way. This Qin Xia was a peculiarly connected man—rumored to have ties to the highest levels of the palace—yet instead of exploiting his position for gain, he was zealously reforming for the nation and the people, even jeopardizing his own office. How could Liu Pei not be anxious? In the end, he had resorted to this desperate measure of shutting the watergate.

The two men locked eyes across the distance, the silence stretching nearly ten heartbeats. With their mutual stillness, the very air before the office seemed to thicken, growing heavy and oppressive.

At last, Zhu Cilang broke the silence with a wide, forthright smile. “Lord Liu Pei! I’ll not trouble you with empty pleasantries today. Tell me, on what grounds does your office shut the watergate and obstruct our work?”

It was a challenge, official to official.

Zhu Cilang’s opening gambit revealed his seasoned approach. Both offices were sibling agencies: the Bamboo and Timber Extraction Office collected timber duties at the watergate, while the Taxation Sub-Bureau managed shipping fees and commercial levies. Both were imperial agencies, and could hardly cite “obstructing reform” as their reason.

At this, Liu Pei felt a chill run through him. Thankfully, he had a seasoned civil official behind him to advise him.

With a steadying breath, Liu Pei replied coolly, “Then allow me, Lord Qin Xia, to ask you first: is it true you have memorialized the court, seeking to merge the Bamboo and Timber Extraction Office into the Taxation Sub-Bureau?”

At this, a deeper hush fell. Every ear strained to catch the reply; one could hear a pin drop.

Hou Fangyu understood perfectly—this was the very heart of the matter!

At once, thousands of eyes fixed upon Zhu Cilang, the tension in the air almost tangible.

Zhu Cilang narrowed his eyes, studying the faintly triumphant Liu Pei, then suddenly laughed aloud, “Indeed! I did submit such a memorial, proposing the merger of the Bamboo and Timber Extraction Office into the Taxation Sub-Bureau.”

There were many astute listeners present who instantly caught the nuance in Zhu Cilang’s words. The art of official language could subtly distinguish primacy—this merger was evidently to be led by Zhu Cilang’s bureau!

After he spoke, all present held their breath, awaiting Liu Pei’s response.

Sure enough!

After Zhu Cilang’s admission, Liu Pei showed no sign of panic or fear. Instead, he fixed Zhu Cilang with a stern, solemn look and declared, “Since Lord Qin Xia has memorialized to merge the Bamboo and Timber Extraction Office, then clearly our office has no further reason to exist. Such a memorial is tantamount to an impeachment. All within the office are therefore in terror and must withdraw in disgrace. I have decided, for the sake of the state, the court, and His Majesty, that this guilty office shall be closed as of today, and no further timber duties will be collected until the imperial edict arrives!”

“As for the closing of the watergate… since our office is guilty, we shall shut ourselves in and reflect upon our errors. All arrangements must await the court’s command!” Liu Pei’s face was solemn as he spoke.

Everyone knew that, at this moment, the court’s attention was wholly fixed on the bandits of the Central Plains and the Manchu invaders of Liaodong. Even if the bureaucracy moved with unprecedented efficiency, it would take at least ten days for any reply to come.

In ten days’ time, Linqing would likely be in open revolt!

Then, following the court’s usual penchant for placation, would they not simply transfer the outsider Qin Xia and placate the local strongman Liu Pei?

Thinking this, a trace of satisfaction crept into Liu Pei’s otherwise grave expression.

But it was not long before that smile froze upon his face.