Chapter Twenty: The Country Squire

“This is the place,” the old man said, pointing ahead to a stately and imposing courtyard.

At the entrance, several constables stood guard.

“Let’s go,” Long Yu gestured for the old man to come with him.

But the old man shook his head repeatedly, not daring to step inside. In these times, commoners always lacked the courage to deal with officials, let alone lodge complaints or accusations. Unless life was truly unbearable, who wouldn’t want to live quietly as an ordinary citizen? Such a phenomenon was common throughout our history, and in ancient times, there were even rules that a commoner suing an official must first endure dozens of blows before presenting his case.

Even this old man, with no family left and his own end near, still could not shake off his fear.

“You really won’t go in with us?” Long Yu tried to persuade him.

But the old man just shook his head, too afraid to follow.

Long Yu had no choice but to enter with his two guards.

“What do you want?” a constable called out, blocking their way.

“We’d like to see the official in charge here,” Long Yu replied.

“As if commoners like you can see the magistrate?” the constable said rudely, eyeing Long Yu’s plain attire.

The other constables prepared to drive them away. Yet when they laid hands on Long Yu, they immediately realized this man was no ordinary person. No matter how many of them tried, they couldn’t budge him an inch.

Their faces flushed with embarrassment as they strained in vain.

Seeing this, the two guards stepped forward, and with a few swift blows, several constables were on the ground. The fittest among them were barely stronger than average folk, while Long Yu’s guards were elite, handpicked men, each with a physical strength exceeding a hundred, and trained in state-sanctioned C- and B-level martial arts.

The constables were no match for them.

The official in charge, hearing the commotion, hurried out. Seeing his men sprawled on the ground, he thought they’d been attacked by rebels and tried to flee in terror.

“Stop. Move another step and I’ll take action,” Long Yu threatened from behind.

The official immediately dropped to his knees, trembling. “Spare me, my lord! Have mercy!”

Long Yu couldn’t help but feel the scene was off-script. Wasn’t the official supposed to kneel only after he revealed his identity as the crown prince? Why was he on his knees already?

“Why are you kneeling? I haven’t even said I’m the crown prince yet!”

But the official only kowtowed harder. “My lord, I know you’re from the righteous army! Please don’t play with me—just spare my life!”

“Why would I lie to you? What, would you pay me if I did?” Long Yu put his hands on his hips, amused.

But after he spoke, nothing happened for a while. He turned to his two guards.

Shouldn’t they be proving his identity now, presenting the crown prince’s token for all to see?

Yet the two stood stiffly behind him, oblivious.

“Aren’t you two going to do something?” Long Yu said irritably.

“What? Your Highness, didn’t you tell us to follow you, say nothing, and do nothing?”

Hearing their daft reply, Long Yu was speechless.

Fine! It was his own fault for telling them not to speak!

No longer relying on them, Long Yu brought out his own crown prince’s token.

“See this? I really am the crown prince…”

The kneeling official looked up at the radiant token, and began kowtowing even more frantically. “Your Highness! It’s not that I don’t want to help the disaster victims, but I can’t afford to offend the local gentry! I deserve to die, I deserve to die!”

At this, Long Yu’s expression grew serious.

“I understand your predicament,” he said, then added, “but you were aware of the situation and failed to report it. There will still be consequences.”

The official, at first relieved, tensed up again at Long Yu’s words.

“What will this crown prince do to me? People say he even killed his own brother…”

But there was nothing he could do now; his fate was in Long Yu’s hands. All he could do was cooperate and hope the prince would spare him if he was in a good mood.

“Gather all your constables at once and come with me to confront the uncooperative gentry.”

The official sprang into action, and within minutes, all the constables had assembled, marching with Long Yu to the headman’s residence.

The old man who had been waiting outside, expecting to see the brash young man thrown out, watched as Long Yu felled several constables and grew anxious.

He had brought Long Yu here—if the authorities held him responsible, what would he do? Then he remembered the food Long Yu had given him. Would the officials confiscate it? The young men had given him that food!

The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. No, he couldn’t let them seize it—he must eat it quickly. He broke off another piece and ate it at once, then hurried far away.

Surely now, even if the officials looked for him, they wouldn’t find him easily.

But in fleeing, he missed what happened next: all the constables, led by Long Yu, setting off for the gentry’s manor.

So it was that, under the astonished gaze of many disaster victims along the road, Long Yu led the constables toward the gentry.

“Are the officials really going to move against the gentry this time?”

“I think they might…”

“Would they dare? Those families have powerful retainers and connections at court!”

“Maybe it’s because of those young men?” Someone pointed to Long Yu, now surrounded at the center.

Another doubted, “He’s dressed so plainly. How could he be anyone important?”

“If he’s not, why would all the officials gather around him?”

…

Amidst such murmurs, Long Yu and his party finally arrived at their destination.

The gentry were clearly prepared, waiting outside to greet them. Behind the headman stood dozens of sturdy men, clearly trained fighters, clearly up to no good.

Long Yu said nothing, silently standing behind the official, waiting to see what the gentry’s attitude would be.

“By order of the court, every household among the gentry must surrender all stored grain to provide for the disaster victims,” the official announced.

“My lord, we have already contributed several hundred bushels. If we give any more, we’ll have nothing left ourselves. Please, have mercy!” the headman protested, face full of feigned grief.

“We peasants pay taxes to the court every year. Now, in a year of disaster, the court leaves the people to us—how is that just?” he wailed, as if deeply wronged.

“Nonsense! The court has done its part—all our grain has already been distributed, and the shipments from other provinces have yet to arrive. And you, the gentry—do you have no heart? Those victims have toiled for your families for generations!” the official exclaimed, angry.

“My lord, you’re wrong. They work our fields, and I give them grain. We owe each other nothing,” the headman replied coolly.

“You—” The official wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the words. The gentryman’s logic, after all, was not entirely without reason…