Lan Jin, Hu Qiuping, Hu Shentian, and Hu Gongniu are led through the empty path between two columns of tents, and, with each tent they pass, they feel an immense pressure weighing down on them that causes them to feel stifled and makes them sweat profusely.
For Lan Jin, every time he passes a group of men standing at attention by one of the large tents, he feels the same way as he did when the monster echidna was hunting him. Though most of the effect is psychological, he can’t help but notice how fast his heart is beating, how difficult it is for him to take a breath, and how much he doesn’t want to be here right now. And though he doesn’t know what is making him feel this way, he’s absolutely certain that each of these men is far more terrifying than the echidna— and there are thousands of them.
It takes all of Lan Jin’s concentration to keep himself from breaking down and tripping under the pressure given off by the army of armed and armored men, and every step requires more and more of his concentration as his feet feel as though they are weighed down by blocks of concrete. And from what he can tell, the three brothers aren’t doing any better than him. In fact, given that they seem to realize a little bit of what’s going on, their expressions are even worse than Lan Jin’s.
Hu Shentian looks dangerously close to snapping, his back straight as an arrow and his face and neck are so tight that he looks like he has cords running through them. Hu Qiuping is on the opposite end of the spectrum and his muscles are so loose that he looks as though he’s being dragged forward like a marionette, slowly tripping his way along the uneven path while shaking in his leather armor. Hu Gongniu is somewhere in the middle, his steps firm, but his stride is short, and he is sweating so much that small puddles form beneath him as he walks.
Lan Jin assumes they have good reason to be afraid given that they are somehow being accused of smuggling, but from what Lan Jin understood, the three men had told him that they would be paying taxes on everything they brought into the city. To him, that meant that they were doing the exact opposite of smuggling. Add that to Hu Shentian’s conviction that they weren’t smuggling, and Lan Jin felt that, outside of being terrifying, this situation was a little bizarre.
He didn’t think that Hu Qiuping had been lying to him about needing to pay taxes in order to take a larger share of the pot— first because taxes were basically a universal constant and then because there would be no need for him to lie about it since Lan Jin literally didn’t know how much any of the natural treasures he’d found were worth in the first place. So Hu Qiuping should have meant it when he said they’d be paying taxes at the West Gatehouse to bring the natural treasures into the city.
The only thing Lan Jin can think of that would turn what they are doing into a crime was if people habitually brought their goods through the West Gatehouse and, unlike what Hu Shentian suggested when he yelled at the soldier earlier, chose not to bring their goods to the Inner City to report them. In fact, given that Hu Shentian claimed that they would have to bring their goods into the Inner City only after Lan Jin found hundreds of Stonespit Berries, it might even be that they were guilty of it themselves.
Lan Jin hopes he is wrong, and that the three brothers hadn’t broken any laws that might make him guilty by association. But he convinces himself that, at the very least, he hadn’t technically broken any laws, at least none that he knew of, and that he was always operating under the assumption that they would be properly reporting everything that they brought into the city— it’s just that he had no clue what needed to be done in order to properly report the things he brought in with the three brothers.
Two minutes later, all of Lan Jin’s hopes for how the situation might play out go by the wayside as the four men led by the soldier approach a group of important-looking people standing in a half-moon facing away from them. They are all wearing a similar style of black armor to the soldiers he had seen walking up to this point, except their armor all has silver or gold trimming along the edges and none of them are wearing helmets at the moment. They all have weapons, some swords, some polearms, and some even have multiple weapons such as is the case for a few of them who have both bows and swords. There is a total of twenty of them, and the one thing that is similar about all of them is that each and every man standing in the group sends chills running through Lan Jin’s heart.
What’s worse, none of the men standing in the half-moon can even compare to the man they are facing. Tall with dark-brown, curly hair that falls to his shoulders, skin that looks like it was stretched taught over thick muscles and then coated with oiled gold, and a height that allowed him to stand at least half a head taller than anyone else in the area— Hu Gongniu included. His facial features are well-defined and look as though they were carved expertly from stone, neither handsome nor ugly, his face simply looks bold.
He doesn’t seem particularly kind, nor does he look overly cruel, but to Lan Jin, his shadowed, hazel eyes make him look like a wolf lazing about. And though he is wearing thick black armor, its chest piece embossed with the image of a tall mountain piercing the clouds above, it looks more like a decoration on him and Lan Jin can’t help but think that he doesn’t need it to protect himself from injuries.
The man notices them approaching right away and takes a single glance at all of them before uttering a single word that reverberates throughout the area, his voice deep and smooth, calm but commanding.
“Wait.”
Lan Jin, the three brothers, and the man leading them stop moving forward immediately. Of them, only the soldier seems at place here, his shoulders proud and his back upright as he dismounts his horse and stands at the same level as Lan Jin and the others.
The three brothers, on the other hand, all have looks of horror on their faces. Lan Jin doesn’t know how, but based on their expressions, he is pretty sure that the four of them just encountered the absolute worst-case scenario.
What sucks about it for him, though, is that he has no clue why they are so terrified. While he can’t be certain without seeing their faces, Lan Jin is pretty sure that all of the men in the half-moon have a great deal of respect for the man in front of them— and judging from what little he knew about the military from his dad, soldiers don’t respect their leaders until they’ve earned it. They might be required to respect the position, but they could always find ways to disrespect the person in that position without committing an act of insubordination.
But these men all clearly respected the man in front of them. And judging by the soldier that just dismounted his horse, that sentiment stretched across rank and file. No matter how he tried, and even despite being in a potentially terrible position, Lan Jin can’t understand why the three brothers are so afraid of this man.
Time passes agonizingly slow as the men in the half-moon report one thing after another to the man in front of them. Throughout the process, Lan Jin and the men with him are completely ignored and left to bake and sweat under the light of the afternoon sun beating down on them. The sun itself doesn’t seem to bother the three brothers or the soldier in front of him, but for Lan Jin, he can feel his skin burning and he already knows he’s going to be miserable tomorrow.
***
It isn’t until after the men in the half-moon finish reporting that the imposing man finally turns his attention back to them and looks over them closely, his eyes stopping on each of them for a second as well as the weapons they are carrying and the pack on Hu Gongniu’s back. Then, looking at the soldier in front of them, the man asks, a hint of warning in his tone, “Is it worth it?”
The soldier salutes, his fist coming up to his heart as he shouts into the air, “City Lord, sir! Being a member of Qiang City is an honor and the place it takes in my heart is second only to the love I have for my parents! Even if it means suffering, I can never ignore these kinds of parasites who abuse the hard work you and your family have done to make our city great! Everyone in Qiang City must work hard and follow the rules, and vermin like these who damage the prestige of our city and bend the rules for their own benefit should be expelled before they affect any of the good people within our city!”
Lan Jin can hear a tremor in the soldier’s voice, but he can’t tell if it is because he is angry or if he really does care that much about the city— and it doesn’t help that Lan Jin thought they were going to the Southern Border City and this soldier was calling it Qiang City for some reason. Consequently, Lan Jin can’t help but feel very lost all of a sudden.
“Did we go to the wrong place?” Lan Jin wonders silently.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The imposing man, however, lets out a heavy sigh and says, “So be it. Tang, bring me my pouch and a chair. As for you, your surname is Lin, correct? And a Sergeant if I’m not mistaken?”
“Yes, City Lord!” The soldier, Sergeant Lin, shouts proudly.
“Grab your pack and start running laps around the camp. You can stop when all of the tents are disassembled.”
“Yes, City Lord! Thank you, City Lord!” Sergeant Lin salutes again and takes off running, his horse following alongside him at a fast trot instead of fulfilling its purpose as a mount.
Lan Jin watches Sergeant Lin depart out of the corner of his eye and thinks about what the man he called the City Lord just instructed him to do. The camp was massive, easily a couple of miles if one ran around it, and Sergeant Lin was wearing metal armor that looked to weigh at least a hundred pounds— not to mention that he was supposed to run with his pack and presumably his polearm as well. And he was expected to run laps around it.
All of a sudden, Lan Jin felt as though he understood why this ‘City Lord’ terrified the three brothers so much. If he was willing to punish a soldier who, conceivably, was only reporting what he thought was a crime, then what would he do to the people who were perpetrating the crime?
He begins feeling nervous, but he says nothing as he waits for one of the men in gilded armor to run away and return with both a chair and a leather pouch the size of a woman’s clutch purse. Meanwhile, all of the other men wearing armor depart and leave the four men to face the City Lord alone.
After they leave, the City Lord calmly opens the pouch and pulls out a carved ivory pipe before loading it with a dry brown plant that looks similar to tobacco. Then, with a piece of metal that looks like a barbell collar, the City Lord squeezes its ends once and causes sparks to fly onto the dry brown plant before he takes a slow drag on his pipe and exhales a cloud of smoke a few seconds later.
“Ahh.” The City Lord lets out a contented sigh. Then, looking at the four of them, he says, “So, how do you brats want to do this? I can give you the opportunity to try and argue your innocence, but if you fail, I will earn my time back from the four of you. Otherwise, you can accept your punishments now. What will it be?”
Lan Jin blinks, surprised at how quickly the situation seems to have devolved and looks at the three brothers next to him to figure out what they should do.
However, before he can do more than turn his head to the side, the City Lord gives his undivided attention to Lan Jin before barking, “Eyes up here.”
Lan Jin’s entire body shakes and he nervously swings his head forward and stares at the City Lord with wide eyes as he quickly follows his instruction.
“When you are in front of me, you look forward. Do not turn your head, do not fidget, and do not speak without having been spoken to. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir!” Lan Jin gulps, his heart beating loudly in his chest.
Several seconds pass with no one saying anything, and the City Lord takes another deep drag on his pipe. Then, after exhaling another cloud of smoke, he looks at Lan Jin again and says, “Since you’re the first one to fidget, you get to be the one who answers my question. So what will it be? Are you going to be punished now, or would you like to convince me that you are innocent?”
Lan Jin feels like a frog is stuck in his throat and he tries to figure out what he should do. Regardless of whether the three men with him are innocent, he believes himself to be innocent and he had never broken any laws— at least none that he knew of— and he also intended to do the right thing as well as he could given his relative ignorance of the laws here.
“You’re taking my time kid, and I don’t have all day. Make up your mind.”
Gritting his teeth, Lan Jin says, “Sir, I’m not sure about all of the laws here, but I’m pretty sure we haven’t done anything wrong.”
Raising one thick eyebrow to look at him, the City Lord lets out a deep chuckle. “Alright then, option number one it is.” Then, with a loud roar, he calls out, “Qiu, get over here.”
Less than a minute later, a tall, bookish man with dark eyes approaches the group with a slate tile and a piece of chalk in hand. His shoulders are slouched and he seems tired and more than a little distracted, but he moves with a sense of panicked urgency that makes Lan Jin wonder if the guy is jumped up on caffeine or something similar.
After letting out another cloud of smoke, the City Lord starts speaking and the tired man quickly begins writing. “In front of me are four men who, from the looks of them, are currently engaged in the practice of smuggling. They were intercepted en route to the Western Gatehouse by a Sergeant Lin of the Immovable Legion. Three of them seem to be members of my city whereas the fourth is an outsider of unknown origin. On their possessions are one spear, one sword, one saber, one… is that a boning knife? Kid, are you a chef?”
The City Lord’s eyes turn to Hu Gongniu who trembles under his scrutiny, but eventually, he is able to force out, “Yes, City Lord.”
“Stay in the kitchen, brat. What in the world are you doing out here getting in trouble when you could be improving your craft?” The City Lord shakes his head in disapproval before continuing to list off the things he’d seen. “One weirdo wearing his clothing as a bag with low-grade natural treasures inside, an actual pack with unknown contents— presumably natural treasures, food, and water, and one concealed dagger.”
‘Qiu’ struggles to write everything down, and before he can finish with what had already been said, the City Lord begins asking questions.
“First, names. Starting from the blacksmith, announce your surname and then your given name.”
“Blacksmith?” Lan Jin thinks to himself, but he learns the answer when Hu Shentian shouts out his name. He had no clue Hu Shentian was a blacksmith, but then again, he’d never thought to ask any of them about their professions either.
Hu Gongniu then calls out his name the second he is motioned to, and Hu Qiuping follows after. Then with all of them done, Lan Jin is looked at by the City Lord once again.
“Name?” The City Lord asks him.
“They call me Lan Jin, sir!” Lan Jin responds.
“I don’t care what they call you. I asked for your name.” The City Lord gives Lan Jin a pointed look and Lan Jin can’t help but feel as though his heart is being squeezed inside his chest so he says his actual name.
The City Lord looks at Lan Jin with an unreadable expression before he turns to the man named ‘Qiu’ and orders, “Write that down!”
Qiu panics, his own expression far more comprehensible than the City Lord’s, and he quickly speaks up, his words stuttering as he speaks, “C-c-city L-l-lord, S-s-s-s-sir. I-I I don’t— I don’t know— I don’t know— how to write that.”
All of a sudden, the City Lord erupts, his voice roaring so loudly that it’s likely everyone in the camp can hear it clearly. “What do you mean you don’t know how to write it? How in the heavens do you expect to act as an official scribe when you can’t write down a single bloody name?”
Qiu trembles in front of him, his mouth opening and closing like a gasping fish, but he doesn’t dare to say anything.
“You, brat,” the City Lord looks at Lan Jin again. “Report your name again. This time, make it clear so Qiu can hear it!”
Once again, Lan Jin reports his actual name, but just like the first time, and just like with the three brothers, it is clear that ‘Qiu’ has no clue what to do with it.
Qiu looks miserable, but the City Lord doesn’t spare him his wrath as he begins shouting again. “I allowed you to become an official scribe under the urging of the Feng family, but you can’t even perform such a simple duty as writing down someone’s name! Yet you expect to serve the city and the kingdom with your meager skills? Hand me your slate and leave! You are not qualified to perform your duties!”
Qiu trembles more and more ass the City Lord shouts at him, but he doesn’t dare to say a single word in his defense as he gingerly hands the slate over and stumbles away, his clenched fists visibly shaking as he beings walking away, humiliated and dispirited.
Lan Jin, Hu Shentian, Hu Qiuping, and Hu Gongniu are all shocked by how quickly the situation changed, but what the City Lord says next has them all floored and even makes the dismal-looking Qiu nearly collapse. “I have no clue how to write or even say your name, so from now on, within my city, just go by Lan Jin. Understood?”
“Y-yes, sir!” Lan Jin chokes out.
“Good.” The City Lord nods his head once. “You, chef, take off your pack and lay out its contents. Five columns, start from your left.”
Hu Gongniu quickly complies and moves quickly to accomplish his task. A moment later, Fifteen boxes, a few sealed clay containers, and a leather satchel with spices are laid out on the ground with their edges lining up as much as possible on the uneven surface.
Taking a look at the items on the ground, the City Lord asks, “How many of those have natural treasures inside them? Blacksmith, go.”
Hu Qiuping speaks up, “All of them do, City Lord.”
“Oh? Got a good haul then, did you?” The City Lord chuckles. “Chef, starting from the first row and first column on the left, you will remove the lid and announce the contents of the Jadewood box. You will then close the lid and move to the box beneath it. Am I understood?”
“Yes, City Lord!” Hu Gongniu announces.
“Begin,” the City Lord orders, and Hu Gongniu complies.
Removing the lid from the first Jadewood box, Hu Gongniu says, “City Lord, this box contains branches and leaves from the Serpent’s Tail plant!” He then closes the box and moves to the box behind it in the column.
“Hold on there, Chef. How many branches and leaves were inside that box?”
Hu Gongniu swallows and says, “Eight branches, City Lord. Seventy-three leaves, City Lord.”
The City Lord stares at Hu Gongniu impassively before asking, “How many of these boxes are filled like that one?”
Shaking slightly under the City Lord’s scrutiny, Hu Gongniu responds, “All of them do, City Lord.”
“All of them? You brats have fifteen Jadewood boxes packed like that one? Are all of them the branches and leaves of the Serpent’s Tail plant?”
“Yes, City Lord, but only this one contains leaves from the Serpent’s Tail plant.” Hu Gongniu confirms.
The City Lord whistles, clearly impressed, and then tosses the slate onto the ground where it shatters as it strikes a rock.
Turning to Lan Jin, he asks, “What were they planning on doing with all of these?”
Lan Jin blinks, his mouth opening but no words come out for several seconds as he gathers his thoughts. “Sir, I was told that we were going to bring them in through the Western Gatehouse, pay the taxes for them there, and then bring them to the Inner City to report them. Then we’d sell them and split up the profits.”
“They are splitting the profits with you? Why? How many of these did you find?” He asks Lan Jin.
Lan Jin gulps and nervously says, “All but one of them, Sir.”
The City Lord’s eyes widen slightly, but what comes out of his mouth is, “Bullshit.”