Chapter 138: Tang Clan's Paper Flower

Grand Prince Dexian had been picking off the Emperor's lackeys sent to Sichuan, finding any excuse to execute them.

It was simply removing potential threats for his own survival.

However, there was something the Grand Prince hadn't anticipated: Sichuan was the richest land in the Central Plains, and the officials sent to such a valuable post were far from incorruptible. That's because a good post wasn't seen as a responsibility to govern well, but as a reward, a gift bestowed upon favored subjects. Since the official position had become a rightful reward given based on one's connections rather than a duty to be fulfilled, everyone just enjoyed the perks and did nothing.

Cutting down these corrupt officials wasn't even hard. Forget finding excuses; one look inside their warehouses was enough justification to take their heads. Just one word—"How dare you steal the nation's property? You deserve the charge of treason more than being a public servant"—was sufficient.

Hearing the news, the Emperor frowned, thinking, 'Well, look at this,' but he couldn't exactly reprimand someone for catching and executing corrupt officials. Once the purge of corrupt officials was framed this way, those who had remained upright in their posts out of genuine principle seized real power. And these powerful figures practically worshipped the Grand Prince, ready to follow his every command. Thus, the separation of powers that should have divided administration, criminal law, and the military (the concept of political separation surprisingly existed even in ancient times) united in serving just one man.

This was why, after Yangshang Guza secretly visited the Sichuan Command Post, the Provincial Military Commissioner and Vice Commissioner had suddenly changed their tune. When they choked the Provincial Commander unconscious and locked him up, the twelve thousand soldiers of the Sichuan garrison, mobilized under imperial order, began showing suspicious movements.

The Prince's retainers melted into the night.

These were people who had fled the world and made the Prince's residence their home. They had even deliberately chosen shameful and insulting names amongst themselves, a pact signifying they wouldn't call each other by these names unless it was among their 'family' within the residence. Just as a family member saying 'Hey, asshole' might be brushed off, if a stranger said it, it would immediately become a matter of honor demanding a life-or-death duel.

Just look at the names of the retainers Qing had seen. There was the old dog Elder Gyeon, the twisted old hag Yeon Pa, the gentleman thief Yangsan Gunja, and no need to even mention the prostitute.

These oddballs from the Prince's residence confidently strode out with the character 'Chin' (for Prince) emblazoned on their shoulders, and not a single soldier in Sichuan dared to stop them.

The Provincial Censor stomped his feet, spitting out his fury.

"What is the meaning of this! Changnan Geumho, you bastard! Didn't you say you personally offered His Highness the poison—no, the medicine?!"

"Of course! Didn't Your Excellency confirm the body yourself! This is all a scheme by those Tang Clan bastards! Aren't they just trying to buy time by brazenly impersonating the Grand Prince's banner?!"

A handsome middle-aged man with clear features, notably thick eyebrows giving an honest impression, quickly prostrated himself. He was too good-looking to be called Changnan Geumho. 'Chang' meant bedsores, and 'nan' referred to festering burn wounds, making the name mean something like 'hideous fox beast.'

Changnan Geumho expressed his grievance with his entire body. His face twisted and trembled, his eyes filled with tears of frustration and injustice, ready to spill at any moment. His reddened ears and bulging veins clearly marked him as a man wrongly accused.

The Provincial Censor found him convincing.

"But, no matter how lawless these traitors are, how could they dare impersonate the Grand Prince's banner? If something were to go wrong..."

The Emperor was an indifferent man. If something unfortunate happened during a mission, it wasn't the Emperor's command that was flawed, but the recipient's lack of virtue. Giving up on the Tang Clan now meant being branded a traitor, and pushing forward also meant being branded a traitor.

Thus, the Provincial Censor finally turned his blame towards the originator of this whole mess.

"Uh, Elder Eunuch. What should we do now...? We carried out the bombardment on the Tang Clan as instructed, but is it truly alright for this subordinate to continue following the imperial command like this?"

The Provincial Censor watched the eunuch's reaction. Why was the highest-ranking official and person in charge here suddenly speaking deferentially and seeking approval from someone else?

Then, a soldier who had been standing guard by the brazier in a corner of the command tent, tending the fire and boiling water, answered naturally.

"When did I ever recommend bombardment? I merely advised that since something absolutely forbidden had entered, you should either retrieve it or eliminate all witnesses?"

It was a simpering voice, unnaturally forced through the nose, not quite female.

"But, Elder Eunuch, you..."

"Since you've already committed, wouldn't it be better to see it through and beg for forgiveness later? Just push forward as you were. Even if His Highness the Grand Prince happens to be inside, people only die once, don't they? Someone who has already passed away can't possibly die a second time, can they?"

It was utterly lawless talk. Wipe out the Grand Prince along with everything else and pretend it never happened.

Changnan Geumho's eyes flashed. If this simpering pseudo-woman, this dickless bastard addressed as 'Elder Eunuch,' was a high-ranking official, his identity was obvious. A eunuch! An Eastern Depot bastard![^(The Eastern Depot was a powerful Ming Dynasty imperial spy agency run by eunuchs, often depicted negatively in fiction.)]

Instantly, Changnan Geumho leaped up and flung the contents of something from his robes, splashing a viscous liquid onto the Eastern Depot eunuch's face.

"Aack! What, what is this!"

"Haha! I wondered why an Eastern Depot eunuch wasn't involved in such dirty business. That's the rotten discharge from someone with the clap, you bastard. You'll be in serious trouble if you don't wipe your face properly!"

'Imchang'—the clap—was a type of venereal disease. In severe cases, it was a serious illness where living flesh would melt and fester.

Rotten discharge from someone with the clap.

Understanding the meaning, the Eastern Depot eunuch's eyes constricted, his mouth fell open, and he let out a horrific scream.

"KYAAAAAAAK!!!"

"Haha, serves you right!"

"You, you bastard!"

The Provincial Censor hastily drew his sword. But Changnan Geumho had already positioned himself near the entrance.

"Judging by your face, Provincial Censor, you have the courage of a field mouse and a character softer than stinky tofu. Not the type to orchestrate such a wicked plot. To rise to your position with such a pathetic character, just how much bribe money did you have to offer?"

"You bastard!"

"You fired cannons at the place where His Highness resides! Your life ends here, along with the lives of your entire family! Go ahead, try to squirm your way out of this!"

With that, he immediately used his Lightness Skill to flee, scrambling away unattractively like a dog on all fours and slipping out.

The eunuch could only scream, cry, and frantically wipe his face. Amidst this, the Provincial Censor felt utterly trapped. It was do or die now. As the eunuch said, it was better to finish the job and beg forgiveness than to give up and return.

The Provincial Censor stormed out of the tent, shouting.

"Sound the drums! Advance and wipe out those traitorous bastards!"

The fox scrambling on all fours stealthily reappeared before the oddballs from the Prince's residence.

Yeon Pa activated her spinning Wheel-Turning Demon Eye, her voice tight with suppressed anger.

"Well, well. If it isn't the traitorous fox?"

"Hehe. Old hag. Traitor? That hurts."

"You deny it? Didn't you poison His Highness's teacup?"

Changnan Geumho replied smoothly.

"Someone offered me gold and asked a favor, so I obliged. You know my character is too soft to refuse a request."

"Answer properly, or today will be your death anniversary, fox bastard."

"Now, old hag. Would I have poisoned the cup without knowing His Highness was away? If it wasn't me, they would have just kept poking someone else until they succeeded. If trouble was bound to happen anyway, shouldn't we at least let one traitor die and find out who orchestrated the plot?"

"As if I can trust a liar like you. So, who was it?"

"I smeared plenty of Tracking Incense on the Eastern Depot bastard."

Tracking Incense was a special type of fragrance used to allow trained animals or trackers skilled in special secret arts to pursue a target.

Yeon Pa snorted.

"Hmph. Fox, we'll deal with you later. Elder Gyeon?"

"I'm going, don't rush me. Just keep an eye on the fox."

Elder Gyeon sniffed the air—sniff, sniff—then looked in one direction and abruptly leaped away, disappearing from sight.

Only then did Changnan Geumho casually ask his question.

"By the way, old hag, what's everyone gathered here for all of a sudden? Why the night stroll? Bringing out all these folks who never step outside the residence."

Yeon Pa grinned whitely and answered.

"Going to mess up the Embroidered Uniform Guard bastards. Why?"

The Imperial Guard (Geumgun) were the Emperor's elite personal troops, a different class entirely from provincial soldiers. From their monthly salaries to the support for their martial arts training, they were naturally treated differently from the provincial bumpkins used as arrow fodder in wars—they were the Emperor's true soldiers. Or so the Imperial Guard claimed. To the Sichuan soldiers, the Imperial Guard were just arrogant assholes who strutted around annoyingly.

Thus, even after receiving the secretly relayed orders, the Sichuan soldiers just thought, Wow, those annoying bastards must have really screwed up this time with their high noses in the air.

At the drum signal to advance, the Imperial Guard units first gathered together and waited. There was no need for them to be the first ones charging into the notoriously trapped fortress of the Sichuan Tang Clan, only to become human obstacle courses. Besides, wasn't this Sichuan's problem? Such expendable missions were tasks for the Sichuan soldiers.

So, they politely gathered together, thinking, You guys go first, we'll charge in later and claim the military merit. They watched as the provincial soldiers strained, pulling from the front while pushing from the sides and back, laboriously moving the approaching General Cannons closer, snickering amongst themselves about how tough it looked and if their balls were dropping off.

These General Cannons, typically two per thousand-man unit in standard military organization, were primitive shotguns. You stuffed them full of gunpowder charge, poured scrap metal and stones on top, and fired them at the enemy right in front of you.

The Imperial Guard's amusement didn't last long, however, because the muzzles of the painstakingly delivered cannons turned towards them.

In the moment of "Huh?", a slow match lit the short fuse—"Scatter!"—and before they could take more than a few steps, the cannons roared, tearing through human bodies.

Following that, Fire Lancers charged forward, creating a wall of flames, and arrows rained down from above like a storm.

The Imperial Guard, unable to even form a proper formation, became entangled with each other, creating a scene of utter pandemonium.

(For reference, the fire lance is basically a primitive flamethrower, invented long before cannons.)

The art of war where humans charge headfirst and clash directly is an outdated doctrine from ancient times when Liu Bei and Cao Cao fought for supremacy, with the regional warlord Sun Quan stirring up trouble between them.

Why would martial artists, capable of shattering boulders with their bare hands and leaping over fortress walls, fear mere government soldiers? It was because they couldn't possibly contend with soldiers armed with advanced primitive weaponry as just a regional gangster organization.

However, since a war between the government and the martial world would clearly lead to mutual destruction, both sides pretended not to see each other, elegantly terming it 'non-interference between government and martial world.'

Of course, the outcome would likely be judged a victory for the martial world. If the two sides fought, the dynasty would certainly fall, leading to a return of the Sixteen Kingdoms or the Warring States period[^(The Sixteen Kingdoms (approx. 304-439 AD) and Warring States (475-221 BC) periods were notable eras of division, warfare, and instability in Chinese history.)], but the lineage of the martial world would somehow survive and continue.

In any case, these were the horrific scenes unfolding outside the Tang residence while Qing slept.