Yang Qiu stepped out of the yamen and, standing under the eaves, caught sight of the civilians huddled in the windbreak. He spat in disgust, ground it into the ground with his foot, and said to the people around him, “Are you all dead? Huo Lingyun doesn’t know how things work, and neither do you? Poor folk carry filthy diseases. If it spreads into the yamen later, you’ll be crying and it’ll be too late!”
The men behind him answered in panic and quickly went over to drive the people away.
Yang Qiu got into his carriage and closed his eyes to rest, still seething from the discussion inside the yamen. Halfway through the journey, a subordinate suddenly said from outside the curtain, “Boss, a letter has come in!”
Yang Qiu opened his eyes. “Speak.”
“Fang Laoshi never returned to his residence,” the subordinate reported. “He pulled a trick, shook off the watchers following him, switched carriages, and headed straight for the treasury!”
Yang Qiu immediately shoved the carriage curtain open, staring for a long moment. Afraid of losing the initiative, he ordered, “Quick, gather the men!”
Before half an hour had passed, another report came back: the Cizhou garrison was attacking the city.
The Jinyiwei charged out with fire lances in hand. Before they even reached the garrison troops, they were cleanly and efficiently killed by ambushers who had been lying in wait. The city gate did not even have time to close, and the banners on the walls were already set ablaze.
When Yang Qiu heard the news, his face went deathly pale. He leaned out of the carriage to look toward the city walls, and indeed saw towering flames rising within the bluish-purple clouds of smoke.
Half of the four thousand men he had brought had already been lost at the walls. In order to control Huo Lingyun, he had placed his strongest fighters there, never expecting them to be wiped out so easily by the garrison troops.
Yang Qiu exploded in rage. “Is he out of his mind?! Why defend a damn city? It’s not even his city! Take your blades straight to the treasury! Kill Fang Laoshi on sight! Load up the valuables and leave!”
The streets inside the city were in chaos. Boots splashed through slushy snow and blood, staining hems and robes. Whistles overlapped in confusion; when groups collided, no one even checked identities—steel flashed first, questions came later. Bodies dropped into the snow, and the entire city descended into slaughter as the bandits fought over the treasury.
When Yang Qiu reached the treasury, he saw stacks of chests piled high. He pried open the nearest one—and found it filled with gold.
He froze, then frantically grabbed at it. “The Wing King really had money!”
Cizhou had been sealed off by Shen Zechuan, and Yang Qiu had been suffocating under pressure. But now, with this gold, he could smash a path out of the encirclement if necessary.
“Move it!” Yang Qiu shouted, eyes locked on the gold. “Load everything onto the carts!”
The carts outside the treasury were soon packed, but there was far more than they could carry. Yang Qiu refused to stop and ordered more vehicles seized.
Fang Laoshi arrived only then. Stepping down from his carriage, he shouted urgently, “Block him! Don’t let him get away!”
Inside the treasury, chaos erupted. Some bandits, tempted by wealth, hid gold on their bodies and were immediately killed by Yang Qiu. He had gone mad—he would not tolerate anyone taking what was his.
Fang Laoshi’s men rushed in from behind, and both sides collided at the narrow gate, completely blocking it. Carriages jammed together, men leapt over them, and blades flashed in tight spaces where there was no room to retreat. Blood soaked the chests, turning them a dark, muddy red.
Then someone shouted in panic, “Stone! Why the hell is this stone?!”
The fighting paused for a split second. They pried open more chests—and found stones instead of gold. Only a few contained real treasure; the rest were all filled with rocks.
Yang Qiu’s knees weakened. He staggered back, eyes red with rage and disbelief. Fang Laoshi also froze.
“We’ve been tricked!” someone shouted.
The gates slammed shut. The courtyard was suddenly doused with liquid from above.
“Fire oil!” someone cried in terror.
“Break the gate! Smash it open!” Fang Laoshi yelled desperately.
Huo Lingyun stood on the wall, his hands frozen blue from the cold night wind. He watched the scene below, expression full of disgust.
“Go die,” he said, igniting the papers in his hand—those imperial notices once posted by the Wing King.
Flames surged like a dragon, devouring the treasury courtyard. The chests were not only filled with stones but also with tinder-like material. Fire swallowed everything.
Yang Qiu and Fang Laoshi struggled inside the inferno, screaming as they rolled and cursed Huo Lingyun with venom. The fire spread beyond the treasury, climbing along the rooftops until the entire city seemed to be burning.
Outside, Cizhou soldiers and guards saw the blaze.
“Who set the fire?” someone shouted.
“Internal chaos…” Fei Sheng muttered, wiping blood from his face as he stared toward the flames.
The city gate had already been breached, and resistance collapsed. With the commander dead, defenders barely fought back. Fei Sheng immediately signaled the Jinyiwei behind him to seize all fire lances.
At the same time, General Yin Chang stood in the wind holding the severed head of the enemy commander. “Why is everything burning? We still have to pay for this ourselves!”
Fei Sheng glanced at the inferno in the distance. “Infighting…”
Cizhou’s garrison truly returned victorious.
Zhou Gui set up wine at the city gate to receive them, rewarding the troops with meat and fish so they could eat their fill first. The soldiers stopped outside while the commander went in to meet the Governor.
Yin Chang did not dare drink today and followed Fei Sheng into the residence. The study doors were open, and Kong Ling and others stood waiting on the steps.
“General Yin,” Kong Ling smiled, “your blade is still sharp!”
Yin Chang craned his neck toward the inside. “Is the Governor inside?”
“He’s waiting for you,” Kong Ling said, guiding them in. “This victory was personally chosen by the Governor. There’s no need for more words.”
Fei Sheng added, “I’ll steady him so he won’t fall in front of the Governor.”
The more they spoke, the more nervous Yin Chang became. By the time they reached the entrance, he was almost trembling.
Inside the study, Shen Zechuan sat in plain robes, pale and composed, watching them enter.
Without waiting for introductions to finish, Yin Chang suddenly dropped to his knees and began knocking his head on the ground—thud, thud, thud.
Fei Sheng’s soul nearly left his body. He hurried to kneel as well. Behind them, the rest of the officials followed suit, thinking the Governor was furious.
The room instantly turned strange and tense.
Xiao Wenyuan reacted first, leaning forward from his wheelchair. “General Yin has just returned from a life-and-death campaign. Such emotion is understandable. Today’s victory is a good thing; there’s no need for distress.”
Only then did Shen Zechuan find his voice. “Fei Sheng, help him up. Everyone, rise.”
Fei Sheng hauled Yin Chang up. The old general did not dare meet Shen Zechuan’s eyes.
Kong Ling could only sigh inwardly. The mood had been ruined entirely by that sudden kneeling.
Fortunately, Shen Zechuan steadied the atmosphere and spoke gently, asking first about their food and clothing during the campaign, then about the weather on the return journey. Only after several exchanges did Yin Chang relax enough to answer properly.
Then Shen Zechuan turned to the main topic.
Before Fei Sheng could even report, a strange smell began spreading through the room. It grew stronger by the moment—something like rotten fish mixed with spoiled grain and filth, impossible to identify and impossible to ignore.
Fei Sheng nearly fainted.
Shen Zechuan, however, remained completely expressionless.
Just then, Xiao Chirye arrived outside.
As he entered the corridor, even the guards changed color.
“What’s wrong?” Xiao Chirye asked.
Before anyone could answer, someone inside the room collapsed.
Fei Sheng, panicking, immediately dropped to the ground as well, pretending to faint right in front of Shen Zechuan.
Shen Zechuan calmly issued orders: “Move them to the side hall. Call a physician. General Yin has worked hard—prepare hot water for him. Let him bathe and rest before the banquet.”
Yin Chang, upon hearing the word “bath,” almost jumped up in protest—
But at that moment, Jia Tianya strode in, laughed loudly, and lifted him onto his shoulder.
“General Yin, Happy New Year! Time to wash up!”
Outside, everyone finally exhaled in relief and rushed to open the windows. Cold air swept in, and the unbearable stench finally dispersed.