A wave of terror surged over him, instantly choking his throat and plunging Pei Zhu back into the haunting shadow of that inescapable nightmare. It was as if he was being punished for his fears—whatever he dreaded seemed bound to happen. He quickly steadied himself and demanded, “What exactly happened?”
“It’s the Hu people… I don’t know when they crossed the Yanshan Mountains, but they went straight to the Zengxiang Workshop, set it on fire, and even stole the goods!” The small clerk kneeling before him looked no better than Pei Zhu, his face pale and trembling, stammering uncontrollably. They understood better than anyone the significance of the workshop to Yongning County—it was the county’s only hope for turning things around.
Pei Zhu drew a deep breath, and though his voice still trembled slightly, he ordered, “Quickly prepare a carriage… no, saddle the horses. We leave the city immediately.”
Behind the government office were two horses, originally for Pei Zhu’s practice. He wasn’t very skilled, but given the emergency, he couldn’t worry about that now.
In an instant, everyone in the office who had heard the news rushed en masse to the front gate.
Pei Zhu mounted a horse, gave a brief instruction to the crowd, and without waiting for their reaction, spurred his mount forward. He had only been practicing for two days and was not proficient, so his riding seemed reckless, but he fortunately avoided colliding with anything.
The others didn’t know what to do, which angered Zheng Xingcheng, who slapped each of them: “What are you standing there for? Chase after him! If County Magistrate Pei encounters the Hu people, it’ll be over!”
The clerks protested, “He’s riding! How can we chase?”
“On foot, of course! Do you want me to carry you all too?!” Zheng Xingcheng delivered another slap, and only then did the fools scramble to follow.
Another horse was at the gate, but few could ride it. Zhang Rusheng was about to lead it back when he saw the normally weak Wang Shiye effortlessly seated atop it, reaching out to Wei Ping: “No time to waste—we must go ahead.”
Wei Ping hadn’t realized Wang Chuo could ride either, but instinctively reached up and climbed onto the horse.
It was a Hu horse, tall and powerful; Wei Ping was terrified, clinging tightly to Wang Shiye’s robes. Wang, however, acted as if accustomed, cracked the whip, and galloped away, his wide sleeves flapping dramatically in the wind.
Zhang Rusheng and Zheng Xingcheng were left coughing in the dust, ready to scold, but they caught sight of Wang Chuo riding with remarkable ease—his posture and skill matched the Hu riders themselves.
“What the—how can this seemingly fragile man be so capable?” the two muttered, quickly ordering the city to go on lockdown.
Pei Zhu arrived at the Zengxiang Workshop without incident. Thankfully, the main workshop wasn’t entirely burned, and, thanks to the timely arrival of the patrol team, no one was injured.
Still, the losses were significant. The rear kitchens and sleeping quarters were badly damaged. Due to the rescue, the main factory building remained untouched, but the interior was ruined: tables and chairs smashed, the storage in disarray, most of the incense boxes stolen, and even raw materials gone. The remaining incense boxes were trampled and dirty—unsellable defects.
It was a huge loss… Pei Zhu felt dizzy as he inspected the damage.
Wang Chuo and Wei Ping arrived soon after, hearts sinking at the scene.
Though startled, Mei Yanniang quickly appeared to comfort the women workers and guided Pei Zhu through the aftermath. She restrained her anger and said, “There weren’t many Hu people, only about forty. But they were brazen, somehow heard about the workshop, and came specifically to cause trouble. They didn’t enter the village, attack the city, or steal food—they went straight along the river path here, set fire, and looted during the chaos.”
This puzzled Mei Yanniang—if they were typical Hu marauders, they would have stolen food. Why take incense boxes they couldn’t even eat?
Pei Zhu immediately understood: forty people meant this wasn’t a government-sanctioned attack but a small-scale vendetta. If it were a larger group of over a hundred, Zheng Xingcheng’s informants at the location would have noticed.
“Where is the workshop patrol?” he asked.
“They went after the Hu people and haven’t returned yet.”
Pei Zhu quickly sorted his thoughts. The situation was unclear; they couldn’t stay at the workshop. The office had no capable military officers, so there was no way to deal with the Hu, and the women were at risk—if anything happened, he couldn’t explain it to the county.
He gathered everyone, carefully calming them down.
The women were still shaken. Though uninjured, the fright was severe. Once Pei Zhu promised they would be escorted home, they agreed immediately, caring little for the burned bedding and clothing.
The clerks arrived slightly later. Pei Zhu divided them into groups to escort the women home, emphasizing repeatedly that everyone had to be delivered safely to their doorsteps.
By the time all were sent home, night had fallen.
Pei Zhu was still handling the aftermath—after comforting the women, he had to reassure Zhang County Magistrate and others from Anping County. The workshop’s completion involved great effort from Anping County; with such a disaster, if they learned of it, they would be furious. But delaying the news too long was also unacceptable.
He decided it was best to inform them immediately. With only a few people present, Pei Zhu hesitated: “We haven’t notified Zhang County Magistrate yet. If you can stay here, I’ll go myself.”
Wei Ping urged, “No! It’s too late. Let me go—I know the roads to Anping County best.”
Pei Zhu hesitated—Wei Ping couldn’t ride well—but Wang Chuo suddenly insisted, “I’ll go.”
Wei Ping blinked, then nodded repeatedly: “Yes, Master Wang can ride, even better than you.”
With Pei Zhu’s poor riding skills, he couldn’t risk Wei Ping going alone at night. Wang Chuo, though frail-looking, had proven capable when he accompanied Wei Ping previously.
Reluctantly, Pei Zhu agreed.
Mei Yanniang also volunteered, “I was recruited by Zhang County Magistrate. I know today’s situation well. I’ll go with Wang Shiye; we can speak a few words if necessary.”
Pei Zhu understood—she wanted to intercede on their behalf. Grateful, he said, “Thank you.”
Mei Yanniang wasn’t seeking thanks; she cared only about one thing: “Sir, can the workshop be restored and resume operations smoothly?”
She didn’t want the efforts of the two counties wasted.
Pei Zhu hesitated briefly, then promised, “As long as there’s even a glimmer of hope, I’ll do everything I can.”
Mei Yanniang felt slightly disappointed but understood that no one could guarantee results in the current circumstances, not even a county magistrate.
As they left, Zheng Xingcheng and Cheng Si—who had pursued the Hu—arrived, as well as Sun Huan and others patrolling near the Yanshan foothills.
The Hu outnumbered them; Cheng Si’s group had only about ten men. Even after recruiting a few villagers, they returned injured and defeated. Cheng Si was dejected: “Sir, the Hu have crossed back over the Yanshan. They were shouting insults against Yongning County, claiming theft of tax grain. Their leader, Bao Rijin, threatened it’s not over and will return in ten days to settle the score.”
Everyone present was enraged. These Hu were reckless—telling them when they’d return meant they knew they couldn’t win.
Zhang Rusheng, previously clueless, also fumed: “Nonsense! They got lucky and now act clever! If they didn’t steal the grain, how could it just vanish?”
Cheng Si dared not speak, fearing to reveal anything further.
Pei Zhu massaged his temples—arguing now was useless. The Hu would inevitably bear the blame for centuries of border raids; their complaints didn’t concern him. But the officials were troublesome, and after dealing with them, Pei Zhu turned to Sun Huan and his three companions: “You were guarding the Yanshan area today?”
Sun Huan stammered, kneeling: “Y-yes… we were.”
“Then why did you not notice the Hu invaders?”
They couldn’t explain. Patrols at the mountain base were boring; only a few paths led down. That day, Sun Huan had brought some wine, and they were drunk, unaware of when the Hu arrived. Only after Cheng Si’s group chased them to the mountain base did they realize the situation.
Cheng Si, cunning, immediately exposed their drunken negligence. Seeing Pei Zhu about to lose his temper, Sun Huan anxiously looked at Zheng Xingcheng.
“Lord Zheng, if you don’t act, we’ll be beaten!”
Pei Zhu’s disappointment was palpable: “You four neglected your duties and now the consequences are severe. According to office rules, the punishment would be forty lashes. But at this point, punishment is useless. Return home; you need not report to the office again.”
The four were unsettled. They secretly rejoiced at first that punishment was unnecessary, but the last sentence struck hard—they couldn’t laugh.
Without the office’s authority, what could they do?
Sun Huan, shocked, turned to Pei Zhu for help, kneeling: “Lord Zheng, please intercede for us. We’ve served nearly twenty years. Even without merit, we’ve done our duty. How can you just expel us?”
“Yes, sir! We have families to care for. Without office duties, how will we survive? Please, show mercy!”
Their pleas were pitiful, even Zhao Bingwen wanted to intervene. Zheng Xingcheng remained silent. He feared death and the Hu—if these men failed to guard Yanshan, expelling them was reasonable. Pei Zhu’s willingness to be the ‘bad guy’ saved them from Zheng’s wrath.
Zheng’s cold demeanor terrified Sun Huan, who turned back to plead with Pei Zhu. But Pei Zhu was even more resolute.
With no choice, Sun Huan appealed to Zhang Rusheng, who was even harsher: he kicked the men down, shouting, “Are they dead? Get them out!”
Cheng Si hurriedly dragged Sun Huan and the others away. They had long been disliked for abusing their authority despite doing little. Now, karma had caught up. Even if the magistrate didn’t punish them severely, retaliation from villagers was inevitable.
True justice had been served.
After they were removed, the workshop hall fell silent. Pei Zhu was still pondering strategy when he remembered something urgent and summoned his system panel.
As expected, the mission had failed.
A green box appeared in the mission tab: time extended to six months, difficulty increased, and random events imminent.
Pei Zhu stared at the random events, surveyed the wreckage, and felt a reckless defiance. Could anything random make this worse?
Ha.
He feared nothing now.
Meanwhile, Wang Chuo finally reached Anping County, stopping outside a closed shop. Light could still be seen inside. Escort services and merchants transmitting messages—this was the simplest way to send news.
Wang asked Mei Yanniang to wait, knocked on the wooden door, explained the situation, and successfully wrote a handwritten letter. Given their mutual grudges, once this letter was sent, even a thousand miles away, the recipient would pursue him for his life.
“Please send this as quickly as possible—the sooner, the better.”