The Zhenshan Army’s decisive defeat of the Wuying Army — long renowned for its valor — brought Li Wu’s prestige within the military surging upward. Combined with his earlier feat of cutting down the false emperor’s head during the Battle of Xiangyang’s Defense, Li Wu — an outsider by origin — had at last secured complete command over the Zhenshan Army, an army that had been handed down across three generations of a single family.

The first thing he did after securing full military command was to make a public example of one to warn the rest.

On the day the prefect of Yangzhou was escorted under guard into Xiangyang, the sun was high and blazing, and the city was emptied of people as they poured into the streets to watch.

At the execution grounds at the center of Xiangyang county, the crowds packed three layers deep. Fang Tingzhi stood on the stone platform and read out the crimes of the condemned in a loud, clear voice.

Dereliction of duty, holding a sinecure without performing its functions, misappropriating public funds for private gain, forming cliques and factions, paying lip service while secretly acting against orders—

Every single charge, with its date, location, witnesses, and evidence.

The prefect of Yangzhou — dragged from his home still wearing his official robes and paraded in a prison cart through all six prefectures — sat inside the cart, gaunt as a skeleton, his face ashen. He could not even summon the breath to cry his innocence.

With the catalogue of crimes laid out in full, Fang Tingzhi swept his gaze across those few evasive eyes hiding within the spectating crowd, and said in a low, measured voice:

“Crimes that cannot be pardoned. Immediate execution.”

Fang Tingzhi’s hand swept down. The documents — sent all the way from Yangzhou to Xiangyang to stall for time with trivial business — filled the air like drifting goose feathers, falling onto the trail of blood winding across the ground, absorbing into blooms the color of red plum blossoms.

The news from Xiangyang was carried back to their respective masters by informants throughout the region.

All six prefectures were shaken.

The documents arriving at Xiangyang’s official office from then on grew considerably thicker.

“My lord, these are the documents sent in today from the six prefectures, covering matters of civil welfare, water conservancy… Among them, the prefect of Dengzhou’s document presents a proposal on civil welfare matters.”

In the office room, Fang Tingzhi arranged the documents sorted by category in sequence on the desk.

Li Wu had his legs propped up on the desk, and was reading through a document sent by the Dengzhou prefect while letting out a cold laugh.

“So this Dengzhou prefect actually knows something about the problem of excessive taxation.” Li Wu said with a contemptuous edge. “It seems people really do need to see a little blood before they understand what ought to be written on the papers they send all the way over hill and dale.”

How had the false emperor come to exist?

Was it not because farmers who toiled through an entire year producing countless loads of grain found themselves at year’s end without a spare grain to eat, and were left with no choice but to strip tree bark to survive?

The problem was not any single powerful landowner encroaching on a farmer’s fields, nor any single petty official beating a household servant to death. If even matters like those required him to personally adjudicate case by case, what exactly were the hundreds of prefectural and county officials below him being kept around for?

“Excessive taxation exists because each prefectural treasury must be kept running and must pay salaries to hundreds and thousands of functionaries of every rank and description. These people draw respectable salaries but cannot, even five of them together, accomplish what one person should. At root, the problem is that the old days were simply too comfortable.” Li Wu said with a derisive laugh.

Fang Tingzhi had risen step by step from county secretary to his current post, and understood this from the inside. He bowed and said:

“When this subordinate served in Fengzhou and Xingzhou, the official offices in each yamen had countless deputy stewards and assistant stewards — drawing their rations from the yamen but not properly registered — to say nothing of the hordes of clerks who used public office as a pretext for private benefit. A small county with a population of no more than thirty thousand could have an inspection bureau with a thousand men. Add to that the clerks and runners beyond counting, and the salary outlays alone were an astronomical sum. Every time the year-end salaries came due, the authorities would tack on additional levies of every description, extracting wealth from the common people to pay the wages.”

Li Wu put his feet down from the desk and slapped the Dengzhou prefect’s document down, then rose and walked to the window, pushing open the half-latched wooden shutters.

“Only when you’ve actually been a farmer do you know what suffering truly means.”

When Li Wu first took charge of the official office, he had not chosen the largest, most luxurious room, but instead a side room near the edge of the city — one from which, the moment you pushed open the door, you could see the farmland stretching away in the distance, green with young growth or golden with ripening grain.

On clear days, scattered figures could be seen moving through the fields — farmers who all shared the same features: plain, rough-woven clothing, trouser legs rolled up, feet bare, their backs bent by years of stooping and still not fully straightening when they stood.

“These farmers who carry their hoes out every single day are the most vulnerable and the most wretched… and at the same time, the most powerful. Prefectural officials enslave them with excessive taxes and forced labor. County officials extort goods from them under any pretext they can devise. And in the process of collecting, the petty functionaries the officials dispatch skim off additional amounts at every turn to line their own pockets.”

“After exhausting themselves dealing with the officials, the powerful landowners and local strongmen then scheme by every means available to annex their land and reduce them from farmers to slaves.”

Fang Tingzhi listened in silence, his face showing the empathy of a farmer’s son alongside the helplessness, the anguish, and the grief of one who knew the situation yet could see no solution.

“And that is not the end of it.” Li Wu looked out toward the distant fields and said quietly, “After the oppression of the officials and the powerful — there are still the outlaws and bandits, who strip away the last scraps left in their hands.”

“…When even survival becomes a luxury, would they not go out and rebel rather than lying under a leaking roof waiting to die?”

“My lord is thinking of…”

Li Wu turned back to the desk and drew from the bottom of the stack of documents a sheet covered in dense, close writing, and handed it to Fang Tingzhi.

Fang Tingzhi skimmed it in brief — the handwriting was not elegant, and many of the characters were difficult to read, yet those few glances were enough to force him to stop, and he looked up with astonished eyes at Li Wu.

“My lord intends to streamline idle posts and establish new regulations for evaluating officials?”

“On my territory, no one gets to take advantage of me.” Li Wu said with narrowed eyes. “And if anyone has — they’d better give it back to me double.”

“This is a plan I devised together with my lady. My lady says you have served as a county official and have rich practical experience — she asks you to do a final review for any oversights.” Li Wu said. “Take it back and study it carefully, and give me your reply as soon as possible.”

“This subordinate is humbled and overwhelmed by my lord and my lady’s trust.” Fang Tingzhi bowed at once. “This subordinate will return and study it with care, and reply to my lord without delay.”

“One more matter—” Li Wu said.

“My lord, please speak.”

“In the room next to mine, clear out an office room to serve as my lady’s workplace from now on.” Li Wu said with particular emphasis. “From the width of the doorway down to a single sheet of paper — everything must be better than mine, not worse. And I also have no wish for people to gossip about it behind her back. Do you understand?”

Fang Tingzhi’s heart gave a start of surprise, and he quickly bowed his head:

“This subordinate understands.”

After Fang Tingzhi had left, Li Wu picked up another document and continued reading.

Streamlining idle posts was only the opening move. What he truly intended to do was abolish the privilege of tax exemption tied to official-scholar status — a privilege that had been passed down across thousands of years.

The heaviest taxes fell on those who earned the least, while those who earned the most paid no taxes at all — what sort of logic was that?

Why should someone who held an official title be exempt from taxation? Was knowing how to write the eight-legged essay something to be so proud of? Could composing an eight-legged essay really be harder than composing poetry?

The phrase “ancestral law” carried no weight with Li Wu.

Even if it were a law laid down by the Jade Emperor himself, he would find a way to revise it.

But there was no rushing this.

It would have to wait at least until Da Yan had shaken off its current state of internal and external difficulties and fully stabilized. Only then would he push through the new policies, sweep away the obstacles, select a reliable person to succeed him in his position, and retire with Shen Zhuxi to the hills and streams in peace.

As Li Wu sat there contemplating this, Fang Tingzhi unexpectedly returned, walking back in again.

“You’ve finished reading it already?” Li Wu stared at him wide-eyed.

“This subordinate has come to inform my lord that the wealthy gentry and powerful landowners of Xiangzhou, wishing to celebrate my lord’s triumphant return, have booked out the Juxian Tower for this evening to host a banquet in my lord’s honor.” Fang Tingzhi made a bow and said. “In attendance will not only be the gentry of Xiangzhou, but also the local powerful families from the other five prefectures. It would be best for my lord to appear in person.”

“…Very well, fine,” Li Wu sighed.

“Shall my lord have this subordinate send word to the Li Residence?” Fang Tingzhi asked.

“No need. I’ll go back and tell her myself.” Li Wu stood up.

He walked out of the official office, rode his horse home to the Li Residence.

“You’re back this early again today?” Shen Zhuxi was surprised to see him.

“So you’d rather I sleep at the official office every night?” Li Wu felt the urge to take this woman’s chin and shake it until whatever part of her thoughts weren’t devoted to him rattled out.

Li Wu called for the maidservants to start preparing the evening meal early, and at dinner, he mentioned that a dedicated office room had been set aside for her at the official yamen.

“Really?” Shen Zhuxi said, both surprised and delighted. “Did anyone raise any objections?”

“What could they say? The entire yamen is mine — which room is used for what, I decide alone.” Li Wu picked up a piece of Sichuan pepper rabbit with his chopsticks and placed it in her bowl. “I’ve also handed the draft to Fang Tingzhi. He said he’d reply to me as soon as possible.”

“Good.” Shen Zhuxi let out a breath of relief. “You didn’t mention the plan to abolish the tax exemption privilege to him, did you?”

“You’ve reminded me a thousand times. Do you think I’d let it slip?” Li Wu said dismissively. “Let them sleep easy for a little longer.”

“With the current political situation still unsettled, the worry is that if word leaks out, the subordinate officials may grow unsteady in their loyalties and do something treasonous.” Shen Zhuxi said with concern. “Better to wait until the time is right.”

The two of them ate and talked for a while, then Li Wu set down his rice bowl — into which he had already had two helpings — and as Shen Zhuxi was about to call for a maidservant to refill it again, Li Wu said, “No need. I still need to leave some room in my stomach for the Juxian Tower banquet.”

“You’re going to the Juxian Tower as well?”

“I came back especially to have dinner with you.” Li Wu said with a look of mock annoyance. “Well? Are you touched?”

This kind of question had a standard answer.

Before Shen Zhuxi had even time to think, the conditioned response was already on her lips: “Touched, so touched…”

Li Wu gave a satisfied grunt.

The setting sun spilled across the streets, and Li Wu walked out the gate, treading the last light of the day.

Other officials went out by palanquin or carriage, but Li Wu — no matter how far he had come in the world — still preferred to travel on his own two feet or on horseback.

He rode his tall, powerful horse with a steady clip-clop up to the brightly lanterned entrance of the Juxian Tower. He handed off his horse to a young attendant who came running up, then strode in great steps inside.

The host of tonight’s banquet was the Zhang family, the wealthiest clan in Xiangzhou. Besides the Xiangzhou Zhang family, many faces Li Wu recognized were seated at the tables — prominent colleagues occupied the positions of honor, and the wealthy households across Zhenshan’s jurisdiction were nearly all in attendance. Some Li Wu had met a few times, others he knew only by reputation, their faces entirely unfamiliar.

When Li Wu’s gaze swept past one particular person, it paused.

The old master of the Zhang family — ever attentive to the moods of those around him — immediately said with a smile: “This is a distant relative of the Xu family of Fangzhou, a man named Tian. He has long admired my lord and has been looking for an opportunity to make my lord’s acquaintance.”

“This one is Tian Wei, paying his respects to the lord Military Commissioner.” The middle-aged man with keen, bright eyes and a composed, concentrated bearing rose to his feet and made a bow toward Li Wu. The jade pendant hanging at his waist swayed gently, casting a soft, clear glow in the brilliant candlelight.

“This one has long admired my lord’s distinguished bearing. On this occasion I have brought ten thousand taels of gold and ten thousand measures of unprocessed grain, and offer them to the Zhenshan Army as military funds.”

Li Wu fixed his gaze on the man’s brow and eyes and said, “Your surname is Tian?”

Tian Wei lowered his head. “It is.”