I'm overwhelmed with worry. 20635 Mi Jiang

Li Xu bowed respectfully and said, “Then I must trouble you, Madam. I always knew the young ladies of the Mu family are the most considerate and perceptive. Haha…” Leaving behind Mu Yaxin, whose face was flushed crimson, Li Xi drifted away.

As the New Year approached, the yamen was quiet, but social obligations were exhausting. Fortunately, after several years, Li Xi was familiar with these routines; moreover, his finances were particularly abundant this year, and his visits were fruitful at every turn. As a staff officer, there weren’t many in Shaozhou he needed to curry favor with, but being new to the city, he maintained the common philosophy: “More friends, more paths; more enemies, more walls.” He visited everyone remotely connected, leaving none out. Social ties were established, but his body was nearly worn out.

Mu Yaxin, upset with him over the matter of Chen Zhaodi, went to bed early and refused to massage him. The first time, she claimed she was tired; the second, she said she feared the cold; the third, she reluctantly complied, but did it perfunctorily. Li Xi, furious, got up and loosened her bones all over; the next day, she feigned illness and wouldn’t get up.

Li Xi was considering whether to take leave before the New Year to visit Guangzhou and pay respects to Chen Hongzhi, offering him a share of the profits he’d gathered along the way. Coincidentally, Chen Hongzhi arrived in Shaozhou himself. On the twentieth day of the twelfth lunar month, because the Qinghai Army stationed in Shaozhou was to be transferred to Xunzhou, and there was concern about a mutiny, Chen Hongzhi and the military governor Cui Yong went separately to oversee the two locations.

The Shaozhou garrison had been formed from pirates active in Leizhou, numbering about two thousand. Their discipline was worse than bandits; while stationed in Shaozhou, they repeatedly raided the city. The worst incident involved plundering the Salt and Iron Bureau, killing two salt inspectors and six patrol officers, and to cover their crimes, they set fire to the Bureau.

The fire raged all night. At dawn, a strong southeast wind arose, and the flames spread into the city, burning half of Shaozhou. The local authorities dared not pursue the matter, and the case was closed as an accidental fire.

This was one of the three great fires after Cui Yong’s appointment, and he resolved to strictly enforce military discipline and subdue this pirate army. However, Military Supervisor Chen Hongzhi advised that the garrison should first be transferred to Xunzhou, placed under the watchful eye of Xunzhou’s elite force, and then discipline should be enforced, to avoid an uprising caused by excessive measures.

Cui Yong accepted Chen Hongzhi’s advice, and the two acted separately. Chen Hongzhi had just taken office as supervisor; he was new and had no baggage, and his methods were unknown to outsiders. It was very suitable for him to oversee the withdrawal in Shaozhou. If it were someone else, there’s no telling what trouble the garrison would cause.

Upon arrival, Chen Hongzhi executed two officers who had caused trouble in a tavern. Seeing the situation turn, the Shaozhou garrison immediately broke camp and marched south. With Chen Hongzhi holding Shaozhou, they dared not stir trouble there; instead, they raised havoc elsewhere. They left behind three hundred old and infirm soldiers, and as they moved south, they demolished houses, conscripted laborers, and stripped the populace of wealth. All women with any appearance were drafted into the laundry house, kept as camp prostitutes. Their behavior was as vile as any bandit.

Of course, they were unaware that Military Governor Cui Yong was already overseeing a large force in Xunzhou, prepared to deal with them. Otherwise, the chances of mutiny en route would have exceeded ninety percent.

Once the plague was gone, Chen Hongzhi’s mission was fulfilled. Whether Cui Yong could handle the Shaozhou garrison was no longer his concern; either outcome suited him. If the garrison mutinied, Cui Yong would be dismissed, and then Chen Hongzhi could maneuver freely, support his own men, and place Lingnan firmly under his control.

In a place like Lingnan, it was unclear whether the supervisor or the military governor was in charge; whoever could rally people held power, otherwise they were relegated to the sidelines. Was there anyone in Shaozhou worth cultivating? Yes, Yang Invincible was one. Though he’d only met Li Xi once, Chen Hongzhi had already decided he was someone worth befriending, at least as a casual acquaintance.

The supervisor’s arrival in Shaozhou meant the two yamen had to host him, and a banquet was inevitable. What’s a meal without wine? At the banquet, all officials attended to show respect; those lower in rank offered toasts, so it was natural for Staff Officer Yang Invincible to toast Supervisor Chen Hongzhi.

Supervisor Chen Hongzhi toasting Staff Officer Yang Invincible, however, was extraordinary—utterly unexpected.

When Chen Hongzhi raised his cup and drank with Li Xi, chatting like old friends, the officials of the two yamen were dumbfounded. Afterwards, Li Xi tried to explain that he and Chen Hongzhi had only met once in Chang’an, that they merely knew each other, not intimately, and that their reunion in Shaozhou was a surprise. But who would believe that?

Would someone who’d only met you once actively drink with you? Chen Hongzhi wasn’t some teenage novice, nor a newcomer to officialdom. He was the supervisor of Lingnan, had served over thirty years in the palace, held high rank, and was favored. How could you explain this? To argue was to insult the emperor, to mock Chen Hongzhi as a fool was to mock the emperor as a fool. How many heads did Yang Invincible have to lose?

Unable to explain, Li Xi simply kept silent. Let them speculate as they wished; his silence wasn’t a pose, but simply because he had nothing to say.

During Chen Hongzhi’s stay in Shaozhou, Li Xi visited him at the guesthouse only once, and their conversation was all formalities—not because they were estranged, but because some things couldn’t be discussed in front of outsiders.

But with Chen Jianghu, anything could be said. Chen Jianghu was Chen Hongzhi’s adopted son, in his twenties, fair and delicate. Li Xi observed him closely; he had an Adam’s apple, proving he was a man, but whether he was fully so was hard to tell through clothing. Li Xi suspected he was likely castrated; otherwise, he wouldn’t always hold his fingers daintily or speak in a feminine tone.

Li Xi compared him with Mei Rong, concluding that while Mei Rong was physically male but considered himself female at heart, Chen Jianghu wanted to be a man, but his deformed physiology unconsciously pushed him toward femininity.

Both suffered greatly, and their pain was strikingly similar.

Li Xi offered to give Chen Hongzhi the twenty-odd thousand strings of coins he’d gathered along the way. He didn’t conceal the amount; Chen Hongzhi was no novice, and knew roughly how much could be collected. Since he was giving, he wanted to do it right. For Li Xi, twenty thousand strings was astronomical, but for the long-established Chen Hongzhi, it was likely insignificant.

Indeed, Chen Jianghu waved his hand and said, “No need; you’re new here and need money. My godfather lacks nothing.” After a pause, he added, “Brother, you’ve got guts. I heard you didn’t just take money along the way; you accepted goods too, even hired dozens of porters to carry it all, traveling in grand procession. That’s a bit much, easy to invite criticism. Next time, don’t do that; just ask for gold ingots, or at least silver. Those bald monks are flush.”

Li Xi blushed and said, “I’m inexperienced, got played by those monks. I’ll be more careful next time.”

Chen Jianghu laughed, “From now on, there’s no need to entangle with them. Just focus on your official duties and wealth will flow in. My godfather said, though he's only met you once, he knows you’re capable, and you’ll have your day.”

Li Xi hurriedly said, “For a humble family like mine, to rise in the world I need a patron; Lord Chen is my benefactor, and you, Brother, must guide me.”

Chen Jianghu replied, “I feel a kinship with you, brother. No need to say more.”

Although Chen Jianghu had conveyed that Chen Hongzhi didn’t want the money, Li Xi still prepared valuables worth ten thousand strings, packed in two willow baskets for Chen Jianghu to take.

On the day Chen Hongzhi departed, he spoke earnestly to Shaozhou Prefect Chang Huaide, “The Imperial Astronomer says Lingnan’s winter this year will be warm, no snow. Without snow, pests won’t die. We may face disaster next year. The Shaozhou garrison is gone; with the tiger away, the monkeys will rule. Prefect, you must train your local troops, lest disaster-driven refugees break through your city and leave you with nothing.”

Li Xi couldn’t fathom Chen Hongzhi’s meaning; nor could Chang Huaide, though he understood the part about training troops. With the Qinghai Army moved to Xunzhou, Shaozhou’s security depended on local militia, also known as tuanlian troops, recruited from the able-bodied in the census. They were part soldier, part farmer—farming in busy times, training in leisure, responsible for local defense and guarding against bandits.

Each prefecture appointed a commander of the militia to manage recruitment, training, and wartime leadership. Usually, the prefect held this post; sometimes it was separate. In border regions or areas with frequent conflict, the commander wielded great power, and if not held by the prefect, the prefect’s authority was much diminished, often becoming subordinate to the commander. But in the south, where warfare was rare, even if the prefect didn’t hold the command, his authority still surpassed it.

In Shaozhou, Prefect Chang Huaide held both positions, but after two years as commander, he still had no idea about military matters. In those two years, he hadn’t even visited the militia barracks, vaguely recalling they were under Mount Lingjiu north of the city, but whether it was northwest or northeast, he couldn’t tell.

Chen Hongzhi had boarded the ship, standing at the bow to bid farewell to the officials of Shaozhou. As the boat drifted away, he suddenly called out to Li Xi, “You are a hero of the northwest bandit suppression—help the Prefect train the troops!”

Because of Chen Hongzhi’s words, Li Xi gained a new duty. Chang Huaide appointed him as Shaozhou’s militia judge, assisting in training the local troops. “Assisting,” but Chang Huaide intended to leave it all to Li Xi, since he knew nothing of military affairs and deeply detested violence.

The problem was, Li Xi knew nothing of military affairs either. Despite his reputation as a hero of the northwest bandit suppression, apart from a few days in uniform, he’d never seen battle, had no martial skills, couldn’t pull a bow, and knew nothing of strategy.

Watching the boat dwindle to a black dot on the river, Li Xi felt like crying. He cursed inwardly, “In these peaceful times, what’s the point of training troops? Isn’t this forcing a duck onto a perch? This is killing me.”