Volume One: The Hidden Dragon Beneath the Surface Chapter Twelve: A Show of Force?

Liu Heng looked down at Xu Huang kneeling in the mud, unable to contain his excitement but still offering a slight nod, his voice returning to its usual clear tone. “Xu Huang, Xu Gongming? A fine name. Rise. Follow me. I may not offer you much else, but those who bully and exploit the villagers—one by one, they will meet their end!”

...

Liu Heng and his companions arrived leisurely at Shan County. For this young Marquis of Yangwu, only seventeen years old and promoted to Left Fengyi for his efforts in controlling the epidemic in Luoyang, the local officials and gentry showed him the utmost respect and hospitality.

After all, in Shan County, whether an imperial nephew or the governor of the same prefecture, the Left Fengyi was a figure far beyond reach. Killing a steward from the Li family? That was but a trifle.

The Li family’s so-called connection to “Zhao Changshi” was merely that they paid annual tributes to that palace attendant. Did they truly believe Zhao Changshi would interfere with a governor for a mere Li family? Especially when this governor was the emperor’s own nephew! Did they think the Li family were Zhao Changshi’s kin?

Didn’t you see how Third Master Li tried to ingratiate himself with our Marquis and apologize, only to be met with the Marquis’s sole remark: “How dare I let an old acquaintance of Zhao Changshi be mistaken?”

Soon after, the Li family’s elders, upon hearing the news, rushed anxiously and waited nervously outside the city gates.

In the Marquis’s words, such bullies plaguing the countryside were pests for whom the imperial laws were mere decoration; letting them cool their heels outside the city gate was already a favor.

Thus, inside the Shan County government office, the lights shone brightly amid cups clinking, while outside the city gate, the Li family knelt through the night, shivering in the cold...

The next day, when Liu Heng departed the city, the Li family still trembled, kneeling by the roadside.

“The Li family’s reputation is well known to you all! Normally, I should not meddle in another prefecture’s affairs, yet you have been lawless and infamous for bullying the countryside! This time, consider it a lesson. Should I hear of further misdeeds by the Li family, I will have ways to make you understand the consequences. Of course, if anyone is dissatisfied, you may take it up with the Marquis of Left Fengyi in Gaoling City—I, Liu Heng, await you at any time!”

With that, Liu Heng entered his carriage, and his retinue departed in grand procession.

The Li family patriarch, supported by attendants, shakily rose and pointed a finger at Third Master Li, berating him, “You scoundrel! Return to the ancestral hall and kneel for three days, then be confined to the house, not allowed to step outside. If you cause any more trouble, the family law will deal with you!”

He then warned the second brother nearby, “From now on, every member of the Li family must restrain their temper and avoid causing any more trouble!”

...

The seat of the Left Fengyi in Gaoling City was bleak, its gray walls mottled and crumbling, with battlements collapsing like pancakes gnawed by dogs.

The city gate stood open, yet was deserted; a few listless guards clad in battered leather armor sat slouched in the doorway, their eyes dull as they scanned the sparse, pale-faced passersby. An atmosphere of decay, mingled with dust, hung heavy, pressing down on newcomers’ spirits.

One guard, spotting the approaching procession in the distance, hurriedly stood and whispered, “Look! What is that?”

Several guards scrambled to their feet, their hearts sinking as they beheld the grim, imposing entourage.

After leaving Shan County, Liu Heng’s group did not enter another city until, after six days, they reached Gaoling.

The carriages halted not at the gate; only one rider shouted, “The newly appointed Left Fengyi has arrived!”

Liu Heng left his troops outside the city, entering the city with only Xu Huang and a handful of guards. At the prefectural office gates, they were met with an unbearable silence.

The great doors of the prefectural office stood wide open, but inside was utterly empty—no officials or clerks in sight. The plaque above the gate, reading “Left Fengyi Mansion,” lay buried beneath a thick layer of dust.

Xu Huang stepped forward and loudly announced inside the empty hall, “Marquis of Yangwu, the new Left Fengyi, Liu Heng, Lord Liu, has arrived! Where are the officials? Come forth and greet us immediately!”

His voice echoed through the vacant office with no response, stirring no ripple. Only a few sparrows under the eaves were startled into flight.

After some time, a bent old clerk dressed in faded, patched servant’s clothes emerged slowly from the gatehouse. Raising his cloudy eyes, he glanced indifferently at Liu Heng and the small escort, then sneered faintly, a look of numb mockery tugging at his lips.

“Oh… the lord has arrived,” the old man’s hoarse voice rasped. “The former lord was already dismissed. The Left Fengyi’s assistant has recently taken leave to recuperate at home. The chiefs of administration and household departments are out inspecting the countryside and won’t return anytime soon.”

He droned on, eyelids drooping, as if reciting a stale script irrelevant to himself.

“Where are the keys to the granary?” Xu Huang asked sternly, his expression darkening.

“Keys?” The old clerk blinked blankly, then slowly fumbled at his waist before producing two keys and handing them over. “Here, both of them. The granary’s and the armory’s. But…” He paused, a gleam of glee flickering in his dull eyes, “you’d best be prepared, lord. Inside… even the rats have probably fled from hunger.”

Liu Heng had listened silently, his face impassive.

“Lead the way to the granary,” he said calmly.

...

The old clerk said nothing further, hunched and slow, leading them through several cold, desolate courtyards. He pushed open a dust-covered wooden door, which creaked loudly with the motion.

A foul stench of stale grain, earth, and mildew assaulted them, nearly suffocating.

Inside the vast granary was dim and eerie. In the faint light seeping through the crack in the door, the space was bare to the eye’s end, save for a few blackened, moldy kernels scattered in a corner, buried beneath thick layers of white-gray rat droppings and dust. Several startled rats squeaked and scurried into the cracks in the walls.

The granary was truly empty! Damn it, even the rats had abandoned it!

The faces of Jing Bo and the others turned grim instantly. Xu Huang’s brow furrowed deeply, staring at the shocking emptiness. This was the vital fortress of Sanfu? The Left Fengyi charged with guarding Chang’an? What a colossal joke!

Liu Heng stood quietly at the granary entrance, his figure blurred in the dimness. He inhaled deeply the foul air, then exhaled slowly. No furious roar, no reckless scolding.

Then, he suddenly chuckled softly—a quiet laugh that echoed sharply in the empty granary.

“Hah…”

He stopped laughing and slowly turned, eyes sweeping over the angry and astonished faces around him before settling on the bent figure of the old clerk, head bowed. A faint, mocking curve appeared at the corner of his mouth.

“A show of force?” Liu Heng’s voice was low, measured, with a chilling calmness. “Quite a practiced game.”

“It seems the lords of Gaoling want me to know who truly owns the Left Fengyi—want me, Liu Heng, to know my place and retreat.”

He paused, eyes fixed on the gray sky beyond the granary, voice suddenly sharpening. “Gongming!”

“Yes!” Xu Huang straightened at once, replying solemnly.

“Present my seal and have Shu Zhi lead the troops into the city! Seal all four gates immediately! From this moment on, Gaoling City shall allow entry but no exit! Any who dare breach the gates will be executed on the spot!”

“Understood!” Xu Huang’s eyes blazed with fierce light, his pent-up fury finding release.

“Sir… you…” The old clerk abruptly raised his head, genuine terror flashing in his cloudy eyes for the first time.

Liu Heng did not glance at him, as if he were invisible air. He strode out of the suffocating empty granary; the corner of his dark cloak fluttered in the chilly wind, his figure straight and sharp as a sword.

“Want to play games?”

Liu Heng’s voice carried coldly on the wind, resonating clearly over the silent prefecture.

“Then I’ll play them to the fullest!”

Night pressed darkly over Gaoling City. The thin warmth of day had long faded. In a makeshift chamber hastily cleared in the Left Fengyi’s office, Liu Heng sat back in a hard wooden chair, wrapped in a thick black cloak, twirling a tea cup in his hands.

Xu Huang stood still beside him like a statue.

Several terrified precinct officers guarded three men kneeling below, stripped of their outer armor, clad only in thin shirts.

All three bore injuries: one with a gash on his forehead, half his face crusted with dried blood; another with a limp arm, clearly broken; the last hobbling on a blood-stained leg.

These were henchmen of local strongmen attempting to slip out amid the chaos to send word, caught by Xu Huang and Chen Shuzhi’s elite soldiers who had sealed the city gates by day.

“Lord, spare us!” The injured man with the wounded forehead broke first, sobbing uncontrollably as he kowtowed repeatedly. “We… we were only following orders to make a living… we know nothing!”

“Know nothing?” Liu Heng’s voice was low as he slightly lifted his chin. “Hmm.”

Xu Huang stepped forward expressionless, holding a soaked leather whip. Without further words, he raised his arm sharply.

Whip—crack!

The sharp whistle of the leather ripping through the air, followed by the dull thud of flesh struck, burst like thunder through the hall.

“Ahhh—!!!”

The injured man screamed a savage, inhuman howl, flinging himself forward as his thin shirt tore, revealing a deep, bone-deep bloody gash. Writhing in agony, his shrieks terrified the other two henchmen, who trembled and chattered their teeth.

“My patience is limited.”

Liu Heng’s voice remained calm, even weary. He gently blew the foam off his tea, took a sip, and looked down at those below.

“One last time—your final chance, make it count!”

His voice was soft but carried a deadly chill. “In Gaoling City, apart from your masters, which families have tampered with the granary’s grain? Where is it stored? Hmm?”

The henchman with the broken arm completely broke down, wailing and blubbering, nearly shouting answers: “I’ll tell! I’ll tell! Lord, spare me! Besides our Yang family, there’s the Wang family—their cellar is full of wheat! Also… Old Master Zhao on South Street! And…”

His words tumbled out in chaos, revealing the families who had siphoned grain from the government stores and where it was hidden. The lame henchman hurriedly added more, fearing he’d be too slow.

“The Yang family’s grain—is most of it stored in that large estate outside the city? The one near the Jing River, surrounded by high walls and guarded by many retainers?”

Liu Heng interrupted lightly.

“Yes, yes! Lord, you see clearly!” The two men clung to this lifeline, nodding frantically. “Most of the grain is sent there yearly! Actually, the Yang family head even holds a spare key to the city granary! He was the first to move the official grain! Also… the grain moved out is mostly hidden in the Yang mansion in the west of the city… not yet transported to the estate outside…”

In desperation, the henchman even disclosed their most secret dealings.

Liu Heng nodded without surprise. He waved a hand.

Xu Huang immediately signaled the officers to drag the three near-collapsed henchmen away. The hall was left thick with the stench of blood and pungent urine.

“Marquis, the list of names and locations has been recorded,” Jing Bo presented a heavily ink-stained hemp paper before Liu Heng.

Scanning it, Liu Heng saw a dense array of place names and personal names.

“Prepare the horses.”

Rising, his dark cloak stirred a cold breeze.

“Gather the troops. The first fire will start at the Yang family estate in Gaoling.”

At dawn, a thin mist still shrouded Gaoling City. The pounding of hooves shattered the morning’s silence like a rapid drumbeat, shattering the frost on the long street.

Liu Heng led the charge, his black cloak billowing fiercely in the cold wind. Behind him rode Xu Huang, Chen Shuzhi, and their fiercely armed soldiers—armor clanking, blades glittering, hooves thundering on stone, charging toward the sprawling, heavily guarded Yang family mansion in the western city.

“By order of Lord Liu of the Left Fengyi Mansion! Seize the rebellious Yang family! Open the gates!” Xu Huang’s voice thundered before the vermilion gates of the Yang estate.

Silence answered—the family was clearly prepared.

“Breach the gates!” Liu Heng’s face was expressionless, his voice ice-cold.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The iron-bound battering ram struck the sturdy wooden gates with the soldiers’ combined force.

Wood splintered, bolts snapped with a grating screech.

Crash!

The two heavy gates finally gave way, collapsing inward with a great, mournful roar.

The scene within was instantly exposed to morning light and iron hooves: dozens of Yang family retainers armed with clubs and blades, faces a mixture of panic and ferocity, stood barricaded in the courtyard.

At their head was Yang Chen, head of the Yang family, flanked by several equally richly dressed but pale men—other local gentry trapped by the city’s gate lockdown the previous night, unable to flee.

“Liu Heng! You… how dare you!” Yang Chen screamed, trembling as he pointed at Liu Heng astride his horse at the gate. “The Yang family is a prestigious clan of Gaoling, with generations of official rank! How dare you enter our private residence without cause? I will appeal! I will…”

But suddenly, his words were cut off.

From the formation behind Liu Heng, a cold crossbow bolt shot forth without warning, piercing Yang Chen’s throat with deadly precision!