The instant Yang He mentioned Wang Guozhong's name, Prefect Qiu Qianfan's expression soured as if he'd bitten into a rotten date.
"Bah," he spat. "That rogue thug."
Yang He paused mid-sip, eyebrow lifting slightly.
"Oh? For you to speak so harshly, Prefect Qiu… what exactly did he do?"
Qiu Qianfan slapped the arm of his chair, temper finally unrestrained.
"Ever since Wang Guozhong set foot in Puzhou, nothing good has happened. He surrendered in Yangcheng County, got himself appointed Puzhou Deputy Commander by the court, and then marched in from the east like a plague of locusts."
He leaned forward, voice rising.
"Burning villages. Killing civilians. Looting openly. No different from common bandits."
Yang He's fingers tightened around his teacup.
"When ordinary bandits come," Qiu continued bitterly, "this official can at least organize local militias to resist. But him? He wears an official seal. His banner bears the court's name. What excuse do I have to oppose him?"
Qiu laughed humorlessly.
"Resist him, and suddenly I become the rebel."
Yang He's gaze darkened.
"If Lord Yang has time," Qiu went on, "take a walk through the eastern villages of Puzhou. You'll see it with your own eyes. Those places survived Old Zhang Fei without a scratch—but the moment Wang Guozhong arrived, several villages were burned to ash."
Yang He inhaled sharply.
So it was true.
This wasn't the first time he'd heard such stories. In fact, he'd heard far too many.
"Official bandits."
The phrase echoed in his mind like a curse.
Sometimes, once rebels were "pacified," they became worse than before. Ordinary rebels could be resisted; official bandits could not. To raise arms against them was treason by definition.
No wonder the memorials at court had been piling up.
No wonder his own name appeared more and more frequently—followed by accusations.
His political footing felt thinner by the day.
Qiu Qianfan continued relentlessly, clearly past the point of restraint.
"Xing Honglang has been stationed at Yongji for over a year without causing trouble. Wang Guozhong shows up and destroys villages in days. And then—"
He scoffed.
"The very first thing he does after entering Puzhou City is scream about attacking Xing Honglang's water fortress!"
Yang He's heart sank.
This matches the intelligence perfectly.
"And it didn't end there," Qiu said darkly. "He demanded my cooperation. Forced me to conscript civilians to build siege weapons for him. If I refused, I had every reason to believe he'd lead his troops into the city and loot it himself."
He clenched his fist.
"So I had no choice. I gathered laborers, built his siege engines… and earned the hatred of every family in the region."
Yang He exhaled slowly.
"Alas."
Behind him, a middle-aged man suddenly stepped forward, face rigid with anger.
"Father," the man said coldly, "I told you long ago—these rebels are not worth pacifying. They should all be wiped out."
This was Yang Sichang, Yang He's son.
Forty-three years old. Already deep in officialdom. Currently serving as Military Preparations Commissioner of Bazhou—though lately, he'd abandoned his post to follow his father.
Not out of duty.
Out of fear.
Fear that Yang He's career—and life—were approaching a cliff.
Unlike his father, Yang Sichang belonged firmly to the suppression-first faction. In his eyes, rebels existed for only one reason: to be eliminated.
Hearing of Wang Guozhong's atrocities, he could no longer stay silent.
Yang He shot him a sharp look.
"Suppress, suppress, suppress!" Yang He snapped. "Is that the only word in your head?"
Yang Sichang stiffened. "Suppressing rebels requires troops. We can negotiate peace with the Manchus, stabilize Liaodong, withdraw the elite forces, and then—"
Yang He laughed bitterly.
"You make it sound so easy. Do you think the Manchus are idiots? That they'll smile, shake hands, and politely wait while we redeploy?"
He leaned forward.
"The moment Liaodong troops withdraw, the Manchus will tear up the treaty and pour through the passes like floodwater."
Yang Sichang faltered. "Then… then we strike fast. Overwhelming force. Sweep the rebels clean."
Yang He sneered.
"And if they hide in Huanglong Mountain?"
"We surround it!" Yang Sichang replied quickly. "Ten-sided encirclement!"
Yang He's voice turned icy.
"And Liupan Mountain? The Qinling range? The Qilian Mountains? The Lüliang Mountains?"
Silence.
Qiu Qianfan cleared his throat loudly, eager to escape the argument.
"My lords," he said hurriedly, "perhaps we should return to the matter of Wang Guozhong."
Yang He waved a hand. "Yes. Continue."
Qiu Qianfan's lips curled into a grin he couldn't suppress.
"Well… he went to attack Xing Honglang."
He paused.
"And then—pfft—hahahahaha—he was taken down by Xing Honglang."
The prefect actually laughed out loud.
A dangerous thing to do, discussing a dead imperial officer.
But his stance couldn't have been clearer if he'd shouted it from the rooftops.
Yang He and Yang Sichang exchanged a long look.
After a moment, Yang He spoke carefully.
"Wang Guozhong… is already dead?"
"Yes," Qiu said cheerfully. "Many of Puzhou's people work at Gudu Ferry. They sent word days ago. Wang Guozhong attacked the water fortress and was utterly defeated. His remaining forces surrendered completely."
Yang Sichang rubbed his face.
"So… imperial troops lost to rebels, then surrendered to rebels again?"
He laughed weakly.
"That's rebellion squared."
Yang He shook his head.
"No matter. Xing Honglang already sent envoys seeking pacification. If Wang Guozhong's remnants are absorbed into her forces, it changes little."
He set his cup down.
"We pacify her again. That's all."
Yang Sichang nodded slowly. "…True."
Yang He turned to Qiu Qianfan.
"Have your people at Gudu Ferry send a message. Inform Xing Honglang that this official has arrived in Puzhou City. If she truly wishes to surrender, she should come here."
He paused, then added with measured gravity:
"I will host the surrender banquet personally."
Qiu bowed deeply and withdrew at once.
Within the box, Li Daoxuan watched as over two thousand surrendered troops were escorted into the Labor Reform Camp.
Orderly. Efficient. No chaos. No harm to his tiny people.
Only after confirming everything was under control did he shift his view back to Gudu Ferry.
Just in time to see Qiu Qianfan's envoy deliver the message.
Xing Honglang listened calmly.
Then nodded.
Surrender was surrender. This had always been part of Dao Xuan Tianzun's plan.
Through surrender, her forces would enter the imperial system.
With Wang Xiaohua (Bai Mao), Shi Jian, and now Xing Honglang, Gao Family Village would have three separate footholds inside the court.
A web, slowly tightening.
Still, Gao Chuwu frowned slightly.
"What if Yang He sets an ambush?" he asked quietly. "Two hundred ax-men in the tent, like Hong Chengchou did back then?"
Before anyone could respond—
A familiar, calm voice echoed.
"Don't worry."
Dao Xuan Tianzun spoke.
"I will go with you."
And just like that, fear retreated.