Chapter 46: The Enormous Pit

The Crown Prince's inspection of the Imperial Academy concluded swiftly. When news reached the Emperor in the palace, he merely chuckled. “Those so-called great scholars of his can’t compare to a single student from the Academy—are they just making up the numbers? Or perhaps…”

Han Shitou lowered his head, as if four words hovered above: ulterior motives.

Before his mirror, Wang Shou spoke coldly, “That student... give him a little reward.”

So, to Yang Xuan’s puzzlement, he soon received several bolts of silk.

“These are fine goods from the palace,” someone remarked.

Cao Ying’s eyes lit up, but Yi Niang sneered, “A reward from that dog Emperor—bah!”

Without another word, Yi Niang tossed all the silk into the kitchen stove. The smell of burning silk lingered in the kitchen well into the afternoon, acrid and sharp.

Yang Xuan found Yi Niang’s boldness reminiscent of a matron from a wealthy household, though he worried about her managing their finances.

“Didn’t the Academy offer any reward?” Yi Niang grumbled, the grandeur gone, replaced with petty dissatisfaction.

“Don’t underestimate the Academy,” Scholar Cao intoned gravely. “How many students have gone out from there over the years? They say they don’t form cliques, but when the time comes, with a single summons…”

“But they’ve sworn not to form factions,” Yi Niang objected. “That sounds like a terrible idea.”

Cao Ying smiled with a gentleman’s grace. “You’re thriving in the Academy. If you build good relations there, what does it matter whether it’s called factionalism? Helping one’s own—can that really be called forming a clique?”

“Master, there’s a guest.”

The Old Rogue was enjoying himself alone in the front yard, doubling as the doorkeeper.

Yang Xuan went out and asked, “Who is it?” The Old Rogue, ever close at hand, whispered, “The man’s bald.”

Bald?

Yang Xuan went to the front yard and, recognizing Tang Xiaonian, broke into a smile. “Long time no see, Tang Lang.”

“Just call me Old Tang,” Tang Xiaonian replied, glancing at the Old Rogue, who looked to Yang Xuan for guidance. Only after Yang Xuan nodded did the Old Rogue retreat.

Tang Xiaonian lowered his voice. “Someone in the county had a bad idea—they say there are bandits outside the city, hard to track, and want the constables to investigate.”

“Bandits outside the city?” Yang Xuan was surprised. “What about the Jinwu Guards?”

Tang Xiaonian gave a wry smile and scratched his head, a few long hairs drifting down. “You just slapped Deputy Commander Zhou of the Jinwu Guards. Think that’s appropriate?”

“Those bandits have struck several times recently, ruthless and hard to catch. You’ve been in the limelight—some people don’t like it.” Tang Xiaonian glanced toward the Old Rogue, silently approving the careful distance he kept—close enough to strike if needed, but too far to overhear.

“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” Yang Xuan said. “Thank you.”

The next day, as soon as Yang Xuan arrived at the county offices, County Captain Qiu Sheng summoned him.

Qiu Sheng’s expression was impassive, the standard air of a superior addressing a subordinate, dignity tinged with condescension.

“Bandits outside the city have been robbing passing merchants. Yesterday, someone was killed again. This is a grave matter. Take your constables and hunt them down.”

“Yes,” Yang Xuan replied briskly.

When your superior drops a brick on you, you can only catch it. Of course, if you have the skill to catch it and toss it back, that’s something else entirely.

A trace of mockery flickered in Qiu Sheng’s eyes. “The matter is urgent. The Magistrate is furious. He’s given you five days. I pleaded with him and got you two more.”

Wasn’t it Huang Wenzun who first suggested ten days, and you insisted on reducing it to seven? Yang Xuan kept silent.

He had just taken over the case and would need time to investigate before pursuing the culprits... Seven days. Tang Xiaonian had said yesterday the bandits had been at large for some time, and no one seemed particularly anxious.

This was a trap.

As Yang Xuan left the office, Qiu Sheng imagined his body plummeting into a pit.

He made a soft sound, “Thud!”

“Seven days? Isn’t that just setting someone up?” Wen Xinshu fumed. “Yang Shuai, those bandits are slippery and ruthless. The constables from Chang’an County have tried, but none could do a thing. There’s only three of us...”

“I’ll bring a few more to help,” Yang Xuan reassured him.

Zhao Guolin stroked his horse lance. “It’s a trap, but Yang Shuai has no choice but to jump in.”

The next day, outside the city.

Zhao Guolin and Wen Xinshu eyed the two men and one woman following Yang Xuan in puzzlement.

“My cousin was bored at home and wanted to come out for a stroll,” Yang Xuan explained.

Wen Xinshu observed, “That fellow looks refined, with an impressive bearing.”

Cao Ying radiated the air of a true gentleman, nodding slightly. “I am the master’s tutor. Years of study have left my mind adorned with brilliance.”

“What does that mean?” Wen Xinshu was confused.

Zhao Guolin hefted his horse lance. “He’s good at making plans.”

The remaining Old Rogue was simply ignored.

They left the city and, after ten miles, reached a road where the local village chief awaited.

The chief pointed to the nearby woods and explained, “Yesterday, travelers passed this way. The bandits sprang out and killed two...”

Yang Xuan asked, “Who were the two?”

Behind him, Cao Ying sighed. “If they were people of importance, the pit just got a lot deeper.”

“They weren’t,” Yi Niang shook her head.

The village chief forced a smile. “Quite a few officials came by. I heard... one of them was the brother-in-law of Prince Zhen.”

Cao Ying explained from behind, “That’s Prince Zhen’s wife’s brother.”

“Silence!” Sadness flickered in Yi Niang’s eyes.

Yang Xuan hadn’t expected his first indirect encounter with his half-brother, Prince Zhen Li Xin, to happen in such a way.

Once the village chief left, Yang Xuan instructed, “Old Zhao, take Wen Xinshu and search both sides of the woods. Those bandits must have left some traces.”

The two went off.

Cao Ying analyzed, “Master, the Emperor values Prince Zhen and Prince Yong highly.” He emphasized the word “values.” “If we don’t find them within seven days, retribution will come swiftly.”

To display his concern for his two cousins, the Emperor’s casual words were enough to bring ruin upon Yang Xuan and the others handling the case.

“What now?” Yi Niang broke the silence.

Yang Xuan stroked his chin. “These bandits have been lurking nearby, targeting passing merchants. This suggests they have a base close at hand.”

Cao Ying nodded. “But there are many villages around. How do we know where they’re hiding?”

Old Rogue Jia Ren raised his hand—a gesture Yang Xuan had taught him.

“Speak,” Yang Xuan nodded.

Jia Ren said, “Master, ordinary bandits don’t keep hitting the same place.”

You can’t shear the same sheep forever.

“They strike once, then move on,” Yang Xuan agreed. “Go on.”

As a leader, he had to harness the wisdom of his followers.

“But these people keep robbing along this road. Front or back, they just pick a spot and target whoever passes...” The Old Rogue was certain. “From my experience, they’re either overconfident or dumb as pigs.”

Yi Niang asked, “What experience?”

For the first time, a note of confidence appeared in the Old Rogue’s hollow gaze. “The experience of being a bandit.”

Cao Ying squatted down. “Master, if these bandits were really that stupid, the credit would go to the Jinwu Guards, the constables, or even the local chief and his strong lads. They’d never leave it to us.”

Yang Xuan nodded. “The village chief said the constables from Chang’an County have already combed the surrounding villages and found nothing but honest folk—no bandits, just law-abiding citizens.”

“Outsiders wouldn’t do,” Cao Ying wanted to show off his intellect. “If bandits from elsewhere committed crimes here, they’d risk being spotted on the roads. Since these are clever men, they wouldn’t act so carelessly.”

“Yang Shuai,” Zhao Guolin and Wen Xinshu returned.

“Any findings?” Yang Xuan, who had been squatting, stood up.

Zhao Guolin hefted his horse lance and pointed at Wen Xinshu. “Just some dung.”

Yi Niang turned away; Cao Ying smiled but his lips trembled.

Wen Xinshu held out some leaves—on which sat...

“They’ve been here for a while,” Zhao Guolin said seriously.

The dried droppings varied in size and shape.

Yang Xuan glanced at them. “Since we’ve ruled out itinerant bandits...”

“Itinerant bandits—well put,” the strategist offered a loyal flattery.

Would this strategist one day become a sycophant?

Would he spend his days currying favor?

Yang Xuan thought of the fawning ministers in TV dramas and shook his head, dismissing those strange characters. “In that case, our only option is to investigate the surrounding area.”

Even Yi Niang understood. “So the culprit must be from one of the nearby villages.”

“Exactly.” Yang Xuan resolved to watch more detective shows when he got home. “Our only path is to investigate thoroughly.”

That afternoon, under the setting sun, Yang Xuan entered Chang’an.

“How did it go?” Tang Xiaonian was waiting.

“A terrible day. We found nothing,” Wen Xinshu answered for Yang Xuan, habitually glancing at the top of Tang Xiaonian’s head.

“Hey! Old Tang, you seem to have more hair?” Wen Xinshu laughed. “Congratulations.”

“Ahem!” Tang Xiaonian said with dignity, “My health’s been good lately.”

“Starving, exhausted—let’s go home,” everyone chorused, scattering.

Mounting his horse, Tang Xiaonian sighed, “It’s not easy to stay alive.”

A gentle breeze blew, and the long hair atop Tang Xiaonian’s head fanned out in all directions. He quickly gathered it back, covered it with a headscarf, and, confidence regained, continued on his way.

Yang Xuan caught a glimpse and asked, “Vermilion Bird.”

“I’m here.”

“This receding hairline would be better off shaved. I wager no one alive could carry off such a style.”

“There is someone.”

“Who?”

“Jason Da.”

The first day, they gained nothing.

On the second day, they set out again.

They arrived at a village, where the chief greeted them.

“Who’s been leaving the village often lately?” Yang Xuan changed the question.

The chief had been asked this countless times and answered smoothly, “Many go out to farm, but the fields are all in one place—everyone can see each other. No one could sneak off to be a bandit.”

Even Cao Ying looked disappointed.

Jia Ren interjected, “Anyone else? Aside from the farmers?”

Cao Ying found the interruption rude and frowned, but Yi Niang whispered, “He’s better at being a bandit than you are at being a strategist.”

The chief said, “Well, yes. There’s an old man in the village who loves to go out. His children and grandchildren take turns accompanying him, driving a cart, bringing food and wine, and staying out till afternoon. Ah, I envy him. I wonder if I’ll be so lucky in my old age.”

Yang Xuan’s heart stirred. “Which family?”

The roster was in Cao Ying’s hands, with key notes marked. He glanced down. “The Liao family.”

…

The Liao family lived at the west end of the village, with easy access in and out.

In Great Tang tradition, children did not split from their parents or divide the property while parents lived. Liao Hutou, in his early sixties, presided over a large, bustling household.

A pair of young eyes peered through a crack in the door, gaze dull, then turned away.

Inside, more than twenty men, women, and children stood.

Liao Bao’er said darkly, “How many times now? No one has caught on. Stay calm, all of you!”

The third day passed as before.

The fourth day.

The fifth day.

The sixth day...

Travelers appeared on the main road.

One was a blind man, his expression blank, carrying a bamboo staff.

The other seemed a frail middle-aged man.

The blind man rode; the other led the horse. Both were dressed well.

In the woods at the roadside,

Liao Bao’er turned to his grandfather, Liao Hutou. “That upright old fellow is sure to intervene. Remember, strike hard and end him at once. As for the blind one, set him aside for now.”

Liao Hutou, stout and sixty, nodded grimly, a fierce light in his eyes. “Let’s do it.”

The two went out at once.

Thud!

Liao Hutou collapsed under the blazing sun.

“Grandpa!”

The anguished cry was as piercing as a cuckoo’s lament.

“Grandpa, what happened? Someone help!”