Chapter 92: Resolve

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The prefectural city thrived economically, and the common folk—small merchants and hawkers—rose early, for the livelihood of their families depended on their daily toil.

Old Wang carried his wonton stand, with a stove at one end and tables and stools at the other, heading as usual toward the vicinity of the Peacekeeping Office to sell his wontons.

Upon arrival, he set up his goods and began calling out to attract customers.

“What? The prison was raided by the Ghost Sect, and not a single prisoner was left behind?”

An angry shout came from the Peacekeeping Office. Old Wang recognized the voice—it was Cao Hubao, the commander of the office.

He thought to himself, “This is bad news. Something’s gone wrong at the Peacekeeping Office. Looks like today’s business will have to be moved elsewhere.”

When the superior officers lose their temper, the lower commoners inevitably bear the brunt of the fallout.

This place would be off-limits for a few days, he sighed, hoisting his load and wobbling away.

“How could you all screw up like this? So many guards, yet not one managed to hold the prison. Not a single senior officer remained, and four junior officers disappeared as well.”

“You didn’t even catch a glimpse? The Ghost Sect’s ‘Five Ghost Transport Technique’ whisked away so many people without you noticing? Not even a warning?”

Cao Hubao had heard the news early in the morning and trembled with rage.

The Peacekeeping Office had never been so humiliating. The local prefect was provoking them, and even the Ghost Sect dared to steal right under their noses. Cao Hubao had never before been so insulted.

“Search the city! I will lead the team myself. Every single person in the Peacekeeping Office must participate.”

With a slap, he overturned the desk and roared.

“Should we notify the iron old master over at the Armory?” one of his subordinates, a senior officer, asked.

Smack!

The senior officer was slapped to the ground.

“Do you think you’re being funny? You call him the iron old master, how could you possibly expect that old man to patrol the city? Are you an idiot?”

“Get up quickly and disappear from my sight.”

Cao Hubao took a deep breath, fearing he might lose control and beat this troublemaker to death.

The senior officer scrambled to his feet and fled. A slap was nothing; they had endured worse beatings in the military.

Cao Hubao was not the only one losing his temper in this city.

Meanwhile, in a quiet study within the prefectural government office, a pale-faced, mustache-free middle-aged man enjoyed a life of comfort, listening to a clerk’s report. Behind him stood a burly figure with a sword on his back.

“Your Excellency, the missing persons cases from yesterday have been tallied.”

“There were a total of 245 cases, with 572 people missing.”

“Among them are Prefectural Deputy Zhou, Provincial Deputy Xu, and Government Clerk Lin.”

The clerk finished his report and cautiously glanced at He Zhixian, who was staring intently at him.

A chill ran down his spine, his scalp tingled, and his legs gave way as he knelt to the ground.

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“Get up. Why are you kneeling? You’re not part of the Ghost Sect. I would never take out my anger on my own people.”

He Zhixian spoke calmly, but his tightly gripped teacup and pale knuckles betrayed the calm exterior.

“Report!”

A voice from outside announced the arrival of another official’s report. The clerk hurriedly rose and accepted the document.

Upon reading it, his face drained of color, turning deathly pale.

He Zhixian noticed the change and thought, “This is not good.”

“Read it aloud. At your age, you should have more composure.”

With a furrowed brow and a face as cold as still water, he commanded.

“The report states that over two hundred members of the Tide Gang, along with two hundred seventy-five loyalists of Miss He from Deepwater Bay, have all vanished.”

“An informant from the Peacekeeping Office reports that last night, sixty-two prisoners were carried off from the office’s dungeon by the Ghost Sect. Li Changyuan was among them. One senior officer and four junior officers are missing; only three unconscious junior officers remain at the scene.”

The sudden silence was the most frightening thing. The atmosphere in the study grew tense.

“A bunch of useless trash.”

He Zhixian suddenly erupted in fury, smashing his treasured jade teacup to pieces. His decades of self-control vanished in an instant.

“Send people to investigate. I want the living found and the dead returned.”

“Focus on how the Tide Gang disappeared, and investigate who was imprisoned in the Peacekeeping Office’s dungeon that could have provoked such a massive Ghost Sect operation.”

“Send Lei Hu to lead the investigation; he has full authority to mobilize government personnel.”

Having vented his rage, He Zhixian forced himself to sit back down.

He glanced at the shattered jade teacup on the floor, a flicker of pain in his eyes. It had been his favorite for twenty years, polished smooth with age.

“Your Excellency, Chief Constable Lei and six or seven of his captains also disappeared last night.”

The clerk spoke tremblingly and then collapsed to his knees. This string of bad news was overwhelming; soon he might be scared to death.

“Why didn’t you say so sooner?”

He Zhixian could no longer contain his anger.

Thud!

A shoe print struck the clerk’s face, sending him flying backward.

Dazed, the clerk quickly scrambled back and resumed kneeling.

“A bunch of trash. Not a single useful one among you. A bunch of failures.”

He Zhixian raged in the study, the clerk’s groans echoing through the quiet government office.

Servants and maids outside were so frightened they dared not breathe, each wondering if today would be their last day alive.

Would they be buried like the others, beneath the peony bushes in the backyard?

After a long while, He Zhixian sat down again, looking at the clerk barely clinging to life.

“How is the investigation into the third young master going?”

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The clerk lay on the ground like a dead dog, barely breathing.

“The… third… young master… is still alive… he…”

His voice grew faint until it ceased completely.

Behind He Zhixian, the old man snapped his fingers together.

“Dead.”

The old man's voice was hoarse, as if sand scraped inside his throat, sending chills down the spine.

He Zhixian took a deep breath. He had lost his composure today.

“Send someone to give the clerk a proper burial.”

“Summon his deputy immediately.”

He spoke to his trusted aides outside.

No sooner had he spoken than two guards appeared, lifted the clerk’s body, and left.

A servant quietly refilled his teacup, head bowed low, then slipped away.

Soon after, the two trusted guards returned alone.

He Zhixian frowned.

“Where is the person you were supposed to bring?”

“Dead. Suicide.”

“The official in charge said he heard you beating the clerk inside. He was so frightened that he took his own life, preferring a swift death to being beaten to death by you.”

He Zhixian’s face flushed with anger. Nothing had gone his way lately. He had lost to Cao Hubao in their rivalry, and it seemed Cao had reached some secret understanding with Sun Xuan that he was unaware of. He was being abandoned.

In desperation, he resorted to underhanded tactics, sending He Qian and his senior brothers to probe Zhao Qing.

He wanted to find out if Zhao Qing was Cao Hubao’s man, but He Qian’s senior brother from Nanzi overestimated himself and tried to avenge the Fengli Escort Agency, using a bride as leverage.

He was killed by Zhao Qing’s apprentice, Leiting, and not only did he die, but He Qian was also imprisoned.

Now, with enemies on all sides, even his hidden agents had to be mobilized. It was time to have the second brother from the Anshan faction quietly bring them back.

“Old Wang, I’m afraid I must trouble you with a trip to Yunzhou.”

He Zhixian sighed heavily and spoke to the burly elder behind him.

The old man said nothing, merely nodded at him, then vanished from the study in a flash.