Chapter 43: The Prefect’s Letter, Uprising Crisis

"Master Wang, with tens of thousands of citizens outside the courthouse in a state of fury, you still have the leisure to drink tea. If a revolt breaks out and the higher authorities investigate, I fear you will not escape responsibility." Han Chong narrowed his eyes, clasped his hands, and sneered coldly.

"Ha, Commander Han, you exaggerate. If I recall correctly, the Demon Slaying Bureau is only responsible for monitoring supernatural threats—ghosts, monsters, and the like. Why are you so free today, meddling in administrative matters? If I were to report this to the Governor and notify the Bureau of Demon Slaying in this province, you would be the first to be questioned, not myself," the county magistrate, nicknamed 'Windcatcher,' fixed his thin eyes on Han Chong, smiling as he spoke each word deliberately.

"Indeed, the Demon Slaying Bureau has no authority over administrative affairs, but as official servants of the court, we have the right to be informed. We came today to find out which department issued the decree for these harsh new taxes. As far as I know, additional taxes must be approved by the Ministry of Revenue. Master Wang, would you kindly produce the approval document for us to examine?"

"Ha, Commander Han, your question is reasonable. However, such documents from the Ministry of Revenue never reach the county level. What I do have is a personal order from the Governor. It’s no trouble to let you see it," Windcatcher seemed to have anticipated the inquiry. He drew a blue letter from his robe and handed it over.

Han Chong opened it; the letter indeed instructed each county to increase taxes by thirty percent, citing urgent needs at the frontier for supplies due to military campaigns. It was signed by Chen Yanqing, the Governor of Yunzhou, stamped with a red seal, bearing no obvious signs of forgery.

After Ning and Wu, the two captains, had inspected it, Han Chong specially passed it to Ouyang Jing for review. All three frowned deeply, unable to utter a word.

"Well, since the Governor issued the order, I suppose his office received the Ministry’s approval. We have no grounds to object. Let us go," Ning quickly stopped Han Chong, who wanted to press Windcatcher further, and led the group out.

"Ning, there are tens of thousands of citizens on the verge of losing control. If we simply leave, and conflict breaks out, Master Wang will command his constables to slaughter the masses. The consequences would be unimaginable!" Han Chong’s brow was tightly furrowed, his fists clenched so hard they cracked, and he halted in the courthouse’s front yard, unable to take another step.

"Ah, Brother Han, we understand your frustration. But with the Governor's personal order, we are powerless. We cannot force him to abandon the tax collection. On one side are the suffering citizens; on the other, the constables acting under orders. We can help neither. Otherwise, the entire Demon Slaying Bureau would be held accountable. Our only option is to stand at the courthouse, urging restraint, for we have no other recourse," Ning sighed, shaking his head repeatedly, and the others all wore bitter, helpless expressions.

Han Chong remained unmoving.

Something is wrong. Why has this deadlock arisen? There must be a flaw somewhere. If the root of the problem is found, bloodshed can be avoided. What is the real issue?

If the court truly needed to raise taxes due to frontier emergencies, it would never push the impoverished masses to such extremes. At the very least, people would be allowed enough grain to survive, not forced into risking their lives to resist taxes.

If things continue, not only will external threats remain unresolved, but internal revolts will erupt throughout the Great Feng Dynasty—a loss for all. No emperor would wish to drive his subjects to rebellion. There must be corrupt officials at work.

But Windcatcher does possess the Governor's personal order. To investigate at Yunzhou would take too long, and the Governor is the highest official in the province—meeting him would be nearly impossible. Even if confronted, proving the order wasn’t his would be difficult. If the Governor’s office never received the Ministry’s document but issued the decree anyway, it’s already too late. In Peijun, the unrest could escalate into rivers of blood!

The only suspicious element is that order! Yet the letter is stamped with the Governor’s seal—if forged, it would be nearly impossible to pull off.

"No, the order is wrong!" Han Chong stopped dead, his eyes wide, and exclaimed softly.

"What is it? Han, we all saw the letter. It bore the Governor’s seal; it’s impossible to forge!" Ning replied, bewildered.

"The seal is genuine. But I suddenly recalled, there was a vertical stroke from a character overlapping the red seal. It’s barely noticeable if you don’t look closely!"

"What? If that’s true, then the seal was stamped first, and the writing added afterward?" Ning suddenly realized.

[System Alert! The host has discovered that Peijun’s increased taxes were a forgery by the county magistrate, triggering a merit quest. Resolve the crisis, save the county’s people, and earn vast merit!]

...

The group was shocked, but as they processed this, Han Chong was already rushing back, and they hurried after him.

When they returned to the inner hall, they found Han Chong standing at the doorway, stunned and furious, while Windcatcher was stomping in regret, staring at the ashes of the blue letter.

"Commanders, why have you returned? Ah, just now I lay on my couch, took a few puffs of my pipe, and—well, in a moment of distraction, the candlestick toppled and accidentally burned the Governor’s letter to ashes. What am I to do! Fortunately, the three of you saw it earlier, or else I’d never be able to explain myself. Now I must report to the Governor and request another copy. What a misfortune!"

Han Chong’s chest heaved as he glared at Windcatcher, unable to argue—after all, they had all examined the letter themselves. Though they now knew it was forged, they could only swallow their resentment, unable to accuse him outright.

Ning once again dragged Han Chong away, the group seething with anger but powerless to act.

"Han, it seems you were right. The letter was indeed stamped before being written, but now it’s destroyed—what can we do?"

"Even though the letter is gone, at least we know Windcatcher forged it. We must obtain evidence and arrest him to resolve the crisis. For now, please go to the courthouse gates and calm the crowd. I will infiltrate the magistrate’s residence and try to find proof."

The group exchanged glances and nodded. Han Chong concealed himself and vanished.

Windcatcher was as sly as a fox—whether Han Chong could find evidence remained uncertain. He could only keep up the surveillance and search the magistrate’s residence carefully, hoping to find something useful.

Thankfully, outside the courthouse, the officers pleaded with the crowd until sunset, persuading many to disperse and temporarily easing the unrest.

Inside, Han Chong was anxious. The pipe-smoking magistrate lay on his couch, puffing for four hours, seemingly oblivious to the risk of choking himself. He was sprawled like a dead pig, motionless.

Han Chong had turned the inner hall upside down, but found nothing useful. If he could locate a blank letter stamped with the Governor’s seal, it would prove the forgery.

Yet, it was strange—a blank order with the Governor’s seal, possessed by a mere county magistrate? Could he have dared to counterfeit the official seal of the Governor himself?