Xiang Jianlong and Yang Zaili had left Jingyun Stronghold before nightfall. Soon after, Feng Changyu, Feng Jin, and Xi Zhen came running over in confusion, surrounded by a group of tribal soldiers.

Han Qian rushed forward and grabbed Feng Changyu by the collar, shouting angrily, “Lord Feng, Lord Xi, if you want Han’s head, just come at me with your blades! When Han entered your gates, I never expected to leave alive! Just kill me directly—that would be a hundred times better than being stabbed to death by a woman or burned alive!”

“Lord Han, this is truly a misunderstanding, truly a misunderstanding! How could Feng possibly harm Lord Han?” Feng Changyu jumped anxiously, finally managing to struggle free from Han Qian’s grip with Xi Zhen and Feng Jin’s help, and explained in embarrassment.

“What the hell do you mean misunderstanding? Did I conjure up this female assassin? Did I set this fire myself? Just kill me! My father will naturally send troops to raze your Jingyun Stronghold to the ground!” Han Qian flew into a rage, shouting furiously as if thoroughly frightened.

Standing to the side, Gao Shao and Tian Cheng both felt their young master’s performance was excessively theatrical. Privately they thought, you clearly set that fire yourself with the oil lamp!

Jingyun Stronghold consisted mostly of bamboo and wooden structures, extremely susceptible to fire, but the stronghold residents took fire prevention very seriously.

Besides large water vats placed before and behind buildings, outside the western stronghold wall on the mountain slope stood a reservoir pond of three to four acres. Han Qian had previously assumed this pond primarily served to irrigate the terraced fields outside the western stronghold. Only now did he learn that Jingyun Stronghold had underground channels that could directly divert water from the pond into the stronghold, providing residents with abundant water for firefighting.

The fire was quickly brought under control, only destroying the wooden building where Han Qian and his group had been staying. Han Qian felt this was extremely unfortunate—apparently sending one or two people to infiltrate Jingyun Stronghold and set fires would be difficult to accomplish.

Seeing Ji Kun standing at the back of the crowd watching with folded arms, Han Qian wondered whether Ji Kun had been stirring trouble behind the scenes. He continued to stare indignantly at Feng Changyu, saying, “I came here prepared to serve the Third Imperial Prince, but whether you kill or execute me, please give me a straight answer, Lord Feng. No need to torment Han with such methods! Lord Ji is also here—Lord Feng might as well grant us several bowls of poisoned wine to drink. That would be better than dying too painfully, better than being toyed with so heartlessly!”

Feng Changyu looked at his concubine, still struggling despite being pinned down by his tribal soldiers, rendered speechless by Han Qian’s questioning.

What could he say?

Han Daoxun and his son Han Qian had killed Xi Cheng, Zhang Xiaochuan, Liu Bin, and others to silence them, purely to treat the prison riot as mere prisoner disturbance and prevent anyone from using the incident to throw Xuzhou’s situation into irretrievable chaos. Could he actually explain that Xi Cheng, Zhang Xiaochuan, Liu Bin, and the others had truly been acting under their instructions, and acknowledge the crime of internal-external collusion and condoning prisoner riots?

However, he couldn’t reveal this point explicitly, so how could he explain his concubine’s nighttime assassination attempt?

“I harbor absolutely no intention to harm Lord Han, but this woman is indeed my concubine—that’s no falsehood. I also don’t know who bewitched her into attempting to assassinate Lord Han. At this time, I can only hand her over to Lord Han for disposal to prove my innocence.” Seeing Han Qian mention Ji Kun, Feng Changyu turned to see Ji Kun’s sinister gaze and also suspected Ji Kun might be causing trouble behind the scenes. In that case, to prevent the unruly Xi Ren from potentially being used by Ji Kun, the most appropriate course was to hand her over to Han Qian for disposal.

In this era, concubines held extremely low status, not much higher than slaves. Using concubines to settle debts or gifting them to friends was quite commonplace.

Although Xi Ren was beautiful, at Feng Changyu’s age, facing such beauty left him somewhat powerless and unable to enjoy it. Handing her over to Han Qian for disposal wasn’t particularly regrettable.

For a man of his character, private affections held little weight. Even if Han Qian dragged Xi Ren back to his room and ravaged her, he wouldn’t furrow his brow.

Seeing that Feng Changyu was also a ruthless character who would hand someone over so directly, Han Qian was slightly stunned. He had merely wanted Feng Changyu to concede more benefits during negotiations—he hadn’t intended to accept this hot potato!

“Father!” Feng Jin called out disapprovingly, both reluctant to part with Xi Ren and unwilling to see his father appear too weak before the Han father and son.

“Enough!” Feng Changyu stopped Feng Jin from saying more. He immediately had someone bind Xi Ren and hand her over to Han Qian for disposal, also ordering that the weapons confiscated upon entering the stronghold be returned to Han Qian’s three bodyguards. He arranged another wooden building for Han Qian’s group to temporarily reside in, to settle tonight’s assassination dispute.

……

……

“Did Ji Kun incite you to assassinate me?”

Han Qian pulled over a chair and sat down, cupping his chin as he stared at Madam Xi under the lamplight, tied together with a chair in tight bindings. Even with disheveled hair, bloody scratches on her cheeks, and eyes mercilessly swollen from Zhao Wuji’s beating, she still couldn’t conceal her incomparably beautiful foundation.

“Ptui!” Madam Xi spat toward Han Qian’s face.

Han Qian nimbly dodged to the side.

Standing behind Han Qian, Gao Shao had been looking forward to enjoying this fine spectacle of his young master interrogating a beauty at night. Unexpectedly caught off guard by Madam Xi’s spit on his chest, he muttered about his bad luck and walked outside to squat at the doorway with Tian Cheng.

“Young Master, we’re not really keeping Madam Xi, are we?” Though Zhao Ting’er worried that Han Qian might covet this woman’s beauty and keep her by his side—which would give them plenty to worry about in the future—she also sympathized with Madam Xi’s fate as a discarded pawn. Her heart wavered in conflict.

“I’d actually like to buy two tribal women to scrub my back and massage my shoulders, but keeping her? Do I think my life is too long?” Han Qian said with a laugh.

“But Madam Xi is also a pitiful soul,” Zhao Ting’er said, struggling internally. “Why don’t we take her out with us and release her once we reach Qianyang City?”

“How is she pitiful? Look how delicate and tender she’s been kept. Her brother acted as Feng Changyu’s lackey, sucking the blood of who knows how many tribal people to raise her like this. Then she married Feng Changyu as a concubine, wearing silk and jade. Her life is much better than those skin-and-bones tribal slaves in this stronghold,” Han Qian said, reaching to touch Madam Xi’s fragrant, smooth chin. Seeing her open her mouth to bite, he jerked back in fright, nearly losing a finger. Angrily he raised his sword hilt as if to strike her beautiful, smooth face several times, threatening her, “Still not behaving? Do you really think this young master can’t bear to ruthlessly destroy a flower? Once we return to Qianyang City, I’ll sell you little whore to a brothel.”

“Using two characters for emphasis—you clearly can’t bear to,” Zhao Ting’er muttered quietly.

Han Qian didn’t hear clearly what Zhao Ting’er said. Seeing Madam Xi close her eyes and ignore him, he also felt bored. His mind pondered how he’d just seen that fellow Ji Kun looking vigorous and spirited—clearly Gao Bao hadn’t yet found an opportunity to drug him. He also worried this coward Gao Bao was too afraid of death to act, thinking he should find another opportunity tomorrow to pressure the fellow.

Han Qian had already figured out the mindset of Feng Changyu and the four families. Perhaps they harbored disloyal ambitions, but they had made no preparations. Suddenly falling into a stalemate of confrontation was absolutely not what they wished to see.

They also wanted to ease the situation and were unwilling to watch circumstances continue deteriorating. Therefore, whether he or Ji Kun died in Jingyun Stronghold would not be something they’d be pleased to see.

For them to kill Ji Kun and his group within Jingyun Stronghold would be too difficult, but once Ji Kun’s group left the stronghold, with towering mountains and steep ridges all around, even if he sent Gao Shao, Tian Cheng, and others into the deep mountain forests to hunt down Ji Kun’s group, not only could he not guarantee killing them, they might even turn around and counterattack, causing needless casualties.

In the complex terrain of deep mountain forests, greater numbers didn’t necessarily guarantee advantage.

Ji Kun and his men were extremely skilled, and their wilderness survival abilities and counter-reconnaissance, counter-hunting capabilities wouldn’t be any weaker than Tian Cheng and Gao Shao’s.

However, if Ji Kun and his men consumed laxatives and suffered diarrhea for two or three days straight, the situation would be completely different.

Han Qian was still thinking about finding an opportunity to pressure Gao Bao. However, at noon the next day, when Feng Changyu invited him to a banquet in the stronghold hall, seeing that Ji Kun and his two subordinates all had somewhat pale complexions, he guessed that Gao Bao had seized the chaos last night or early this morning to drug Ji Kun and his subordinates’ food. Feigning ignorance, without avoiding Ji Kun’s presence, he directly asked Feng Changyu and Xi Zhen whether they’d sent anyone to Qianyang City to negotiate with his father.

In Ji Kun’s presence, Feng Changyu felt somewhat embarrassed. He could only explain that the person they’d dispatched had just departed at dawn. Even though traveling down Jingyun Creek would be much faster than Han Qian’s arrival journey, by now they should have just reached Qianyang City.

Xuzhou was located in a remote area. The four families had no need to concern themselves with succession disputes—after all, regardless of who ascended to that position, policies toward Xuzhou couldn’t change dramatically. However, they also didn’t know whether Han Daoxun would soon be replaced by the maternal relatives of the Xu clan and ministers aligned with Anning Palace. Therefore, they were unwilling to discuss these matters in Ji Kun’s presence.

Originally they’d assumed Han Qian wouldn’t want to leak their secret agreement to the maternal Xu clan relatives and those aligned with Anning Palace. But how could they have imagined that Han Qian’s thoughts were completely beyond their ability to fathom?

Han Qian laughed heartily and said no more.

In fact, he was also clear in his heart that truly extracting money and grain directly from the four families would ultimately be transferred onto the heads of native commoners—something his father absolutely refused to see and refused to do.

In this negotiation, what they needed to accomplish was first to take over the positions of Market Superintendent and Prison Warden.

The Market Superintendent was responsible for collecting commercial harbor taxes. Since the previous dynasty, this official position had been controlled by great native clans.

Han Qian had suggested his father take control of the Prison Warden position, considering that even though they were currently taking over the provincial garrison, most provincial soldiers were native tribal people and truly difficult to control. The jailers, fewer in number and already purged once during this incident, would be easier to manage.

Additionally, according to law, those convicted of minor crimes could pay money to atone, and even prisoners held in the provincial prison could be exploited to the utmost—these were quite important financial sources for the prefecture and officials below.

Of course, holding these two official positions in hand couldn’t possibly produce five million coins annually to send to Jinling. If his father truly wanted to accomplish anything in Xuzhou, he would need to subsidize large amounts of money and grain.

Setting aside other matters, even reorganizing the jailer force to prevent jailers and prison wardens from extorting and exploiting prisoners, the public expenditure money originally allocated to the provincial prison was far from sufficient. Han Qian also wanted his father to establish government-run shipyards and workshops in Xuzhou—which of these wouldn’t require massive upfront investment of money and grain to launch?

The most substantial demand on the four families was forcing them to transport Xuzhou’s products to Jinling and establish commercial trade with warehouses controlled by the Left Division. As long as the total value of goods the four families directly organized for transport and sale in Jinling each year wasn’t less than ten million coins, they wouldn’t need to provide additional tribute. Of course, to compensate for the Left Division’s insufficient manpower, the fleet would recruit helmsmen and sailors from Xuzhou—and they would shamelessly directly demand recruiting Feng Xuan to join the fleet, even forcibly drafting some prisoners from the provincial prison into the fleet as laborers.

Han Qian could directly negotiate all this with Feng Changyu and Xi Zhen, but people always needed several rounds of back-and-forth contact to gradually reduce their wariness…