The moment the war cries ripped through the night, fear seized Hedong City by the throat.
This wasn't some backwater hamlet with a few mud walls and a tavern. Hedong housed tens of thousands of souls. To be jolted awake at midnight by distant shouts of battle, to hear steel clashing from the southern quarter, and then—worst of all—to hear people screaming "The bandits have broken into the city!"…
That kind of news could stop a man's heart cold.
Doors across the city slammed shut one after another, bolts sliding into place from the inside. Windows were sealed. Lamps extinguished. No one dared step outside.
Behind those closed doors, countless families pressed their palms together, praying the imperial troops would hold the line, praying the city would survive the night.
But hope died quickly.
Before long, a new cry spread through the streets like wildfire:
"The Salt Inspector is dead!"
Under normal circumstances, that would have been cause for celebration. The man was universally loathed. If he'd dropped dead quietly in his bed, half the city would've set off firecrackers.
But tonight was different.
The official was dead—but the rebels were inside the city.
And so the people's joy never had the chance to bloom. Instead, dread took root. They braced themselves for what usually followed such chaos: doors kicked in, homes ransacked, women weeping, men beaten, savings stolen…
Yet the night passed.
Chaotic. Terrifying.
But strangely—bloodless.
At dawn, the city stirred.
From behind cracked windows, cautious eyes peeked out. A few braver souls slipped into the streets, hugging the walls, moving beneath the eaves, desperate to see what had become of their world.
Who held the city now?
Did the imperial banners still fly?
Or had Hedong truly fallen?
They found the answer in the marketplace.
There, mounted high for all to see, was the Salt Inspector's severed head.
It hung like the head of a common criminal—an indignity normally reserved for thieves and murderers, not high officials. The sight sent a shiver through the crowd.
Soon after, groups of rebels appeared on the streets.
They weren't charging or looting. Instead, each small squad carried an odd contraption—a cone-shaped tube hammered from sheet metal. Holding them to their mouths, they shouted as they walked:
"People of Hedong City, do not be afraid!
We are not bandits!
We were once imperial soldiers, forced into rebellion because the court failed to pay us!
We have taken what we needed from the Salt Inspector's estate!
We will not harm the common people!
Resume your lives as usual!"
Their voices echoed again and again.
They shouted it until their throats were hoarse.
They shouted it for hours.
Gradually, the people dared to believe.
Shop doors creaked open. Street vendors peeked out. Entire families gathered to watch from a safe distance.
Then they noticed something truly bizarre.
The rebels weren't looting the city at all.
They were… digging.
Inside the Salt Inspector's mansion, men worked like ants, shovels flashing, earth flying. Courtyards were torn up. Walls dismantled. Floors pried open.
As curiosity overwhelmed fear, crowds gathered openly to watch.
And then—
Gold.
Silver.
Jewels.
Chest after chest emerged from the ground.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
How had this wealth been amassed? The people of Hedong knew the answer all too well.
The Salt Inspector had long sold salt illegally. He siphoned off government stores, colluded with smugglers, and sold excess salt quotas—far beyond what the law allowed—to Jin merchants across the border.
Everyone knew he was corrupt.
No one knew he was this corrupt.
Looking at the glittering mountain of wealth, the people finally understood: their imaginations had never stood a chance against an official's greed.
"Absolutely venal."
"Serves him right."
"Deserved it."
Chen Baihu waved his hand.
At once, more than six hundred soldiers stepped forward, stuffing gold, silver, and jewels into their pockets. They laughed as they did so, grins splitting their dust-covered faces.
"Hahaha! At last—we're collecting the military pay the court owes us!"
"So this is what being rich feels like!"
"I swear, I'm eating meat every day from now on!"
The Guyuan rebels laughed openly, but even as they looted, they whispered among themselves:
"Hey—don't actually take this home."
"Right. Discipline says: All captured spoils belong to the public."
"If you hide any, they'll send you back to the labor reform camp."
"…Forget that. That place is hell."
"Exactly. It's way more fun out here."
Before long, every man's pockets bulged obscenely.
Chen Baihu turned toward the watching crowd and laughed loudly.
"Alright! This old man has taken enough! We won't plunder you good people. Go on—live your lives."
The crowd dispersed in a low buzz of chatter.
Even as they walked away, they couldn't stop talking.
"That official was truly shameless. How could one man ever spend that much?"
"Robbed by rebels—karma."
"Too bad they didn't share any with us."
"They're rebels! The fact they didn't rob us is already heaven's mercy. And you still want a handout?"
"Hahaha—fair point."
And just like that, Hedong City returned to its routines—as if nothing had happened.
Meanwhile, in Puzhou.
A subordinate of the Salt Inspector rode through the night on a fast horse, whipping it forward relentlessly. Seventy li passed in a blur of exhaustion, dust, and panic.
He arrived before dawn.
At the city gate, he argued with the sentries at length, only to be told he'd have to wait. Puzhou Prefect Qiu Qianfan and Puzhou Commander Xing Honglang were still—according to the guards—"slowly getting out of bed."
By the time the subordinate was finally admitted, daylight had broken.
When Qiu Qianfan heard that neighboring Hedong City had fallen, his face drained of color.
Hedong was a Circuit—effectively a military district.
If even a military district had fallen, what chance did Puzhou, a mere administrative prefecture, have?
"This… this…" Qiu Qianfan stammered. "The rebels captured Hedong? Are they truly so powerful now?"
Xing Honglang, who knew the deeper truth, kept her expression solemn.
"The rebels grow stronger by the day," she said calmly. "Northern Shanxi is already in chaos. The Governor is stationed in Taiyuan, but nearly every surrounding city has fallen."
Qiu Qianfan swallowed hard. "Then… what should we do?"
Xing Honglang straightened, confidence radiating from her posture.
"Prefect Qiu, do not fear. With me here, Puzhou will remain stable. It will not fall into bandit hands."
Qiu Qianfan immediately clasped his hands. "With General Xing guarding the city, this official is fully at ease."
The two began discussing defenses as if the matter were settled.
The subordinate nearly wept.
"General Xing!" he burst out. "I beg you—send troops to rescue Hedong City!"
Xing Honglang raised an eyebrow.
"My duty is to defend Puzhou," she replied coolly. "Hedong is not under my jurisdiction. Leaving my post without orders would be a violation of military law."
The subordinate blurted out, "But didn't you reinforce Pingyang Prefecture last time? You traveled hundreds of li!"
Xing Honglang snorted.
"That was then. This is now. That time, Governor Song Tongyin issued a clear order for all nearby forces to assist. Only then did I move."
She paused, eyes cold.
"This time, there is no order—only you, asking me to abandon my post. I was once a rebel who surrendered. People already watch me closely. If civil officials impeach me for acting rashly, my career would be finished."
The subordinate fell silent.
Her reasoning was airtight.
Desperate, he turned to Qiu Qianfan.
The prefect pondered for a long moment, then sighed.
"General Xing," he said slowly, "Hedong is only seventy li away. With rebels so close, Puzhou is exposed. They could march here at any moment."
He bowed slightly.
"Please make the journey. As for the court—this official will write the memorial and bear the responsibility."