Huangming

Chapter 239 The Eight Immortals Cross the Sea, Each Displaying Their Unique Abilities

The night was as dark as ink, thick clouds swallowed the waning moon, and the entire shipping warehouse was shrouded in deathly silence.

Zhao Ji hunched over, pressed tightly against the brick wall of the granary, like a mouse cornered in a desperate situation, taking each step with extreme caution.

His official boots clattered almost silently on the bluestone slabs, but his heart pounded like a drum, making his eardrums ache.

He kept glancing back, afraid that the patrolling soldiers would suddenly emerge from the shadows.

In the distance, a few lonely lanterns swayed in the wind, their faint light swallowed by the darkness, unable to illuminate his pale face.

Finally, he found a corner where hay was piled up.

The hay was piled up so high that a single spark could ignite a raging fire.

Zhao Ji's hands were trembling, his fingertips were icy cold, and he could barely hold the flint and steel.

He took a deep breath, pulled out a flint from his sleeve, then took out tinder, biting his lower lip hard, afraid of making the slightest sound.

"Click——"

The flint struck the flint, producing a few sparks, but failed to ignite the tinder.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and his back was already soaked through. The night wind was biting cold.

"Again...one more time..."

He tried again, trembling, and this time, the tinder finally hissed and ignited into a small flame.

He trembled as he brought the flame closer to the pile of hay in the corner of the barn, his throat bobbing, his eyes flashing with a cold light that was a mixture of madness and despair.

"If Heaven doesn't pity me... then don't blame me..."

Before he could finish speaking, flames licked at the haystack, and with a sudden "boom," the flames shot up like venomous snakes, making his face look ferocious.

However, at that very moment...

"call out--!"

A sharp whistle ripped through the night sky, followed by the thunderous roar of iron boots pounding the ground, approaching like muffled thunder from afar, causing the barn floor to tremble slightly.

Zhao Ji froze, and before he could turn around, he heard a whooshing sound as the air was cut through.

"Tuk!"

A crossbow bolt pierced precisely three inches in front of his feet, its fletching trembling like a venomous snake flicking its tongue, the arrowhead embedding itself deeply in the bluestone, sending up a few sparks.

"Ambassador Zhao has quite the nerve."

A soft, feminine voice emerged from the darkness, like a venomous snake coiling around a neck, sending chills down one's spine.

Wei Zhongxian, draped in a scarlet python robe, walked slowly towards them. Under the moonlight, his pale face, as white as paper, seemed to be smiling but not smiling, yet his eyes were devoid of any warmth.

Behind him, the Imperial Guards surged in like a tide, instantly surrounding the granary like an iron barrel. The gleaming embroidered spring knives made even the firelight seem dim.

"Wow--"

A bucket of cold water was poured over his head, and the newly lit flame turned into a wisp of smoke with a "hiss" and disappeared.

Zhao Ji staggered backward, his back hitting the grain sack. His face was ashen, his lips trembled, but he couldn't utter a single word.

Wei Zhongxian sneered, his fingertips lightly tracing the gold-embroidered dragon pattern on his cuff. His voice was soft, yet every word was like a knife:

"Fire dragon burning the warehouse? Ambassador Zhao, that's an old trick...

Zhao Ji staggered backward, his back hitting a grain sack, and pointed at Wei Zhongxian with trembling hands: "You, you were all here all along..."

“We’ve been squatting on the beams of this sea freight warehouse for three days now.”

Wei Zhongxian chuckled softly, his fingertips tracing the dragon pattern embroidered in gold thread on his cuff.

"Ambassador Zhao's 'double-decker' trick was truly brilliant."

With a wave of his hand, two strongmen immediately kicked open the door to the adjacent warehouse.

Under the wooden planks lay moldy chaff, while the granary, which should have been filled with new grain, was mostly empty!
Upon seeing this, Zhao Ji's eyes widened in fury.

It turns out that Wei Zhongxian already knew about his situation.

The reason they're arresting him now is to add another charge of arson to his list of crimes.

It's over, it's over!

Wei Zhongxian looked down at Zhao Ji, who was slumped on the ground, his scarlet python robe gleaming with blood in the torchlight.

He stomped on the unburnt embers on the ground and crushed them to dust, then sneered, "Haiyun Cang is the largest granary in the capital, and the grain register records it as 680,000 shi."

He leaned closer, the cold blade of the Embroidered Spring Knife pressed against Zhao Ji's throat.

"But it seems to us that we can't even raise 60,000 shi of grain."

The knife tip pressed down slightly, drawing a line of blood on Zhao Ji's neck.

Wei Zhongxian's voice suddenly turned fierce: "You scoundrel, how dare you play the trick of burning down the granary with a fire dragon? It's a trick that the Vice Minister of Revenue played back during the Jiajing era. You're not worthy to make a fool of yourself under His Majesty's nose!"

Zhao Ji suddenly burst into maniacal laughter, his bloodstained teeth gleaming menacingly in the firelight: "What do you know! Which government office doesn't get a cut of the money and grain transported from Jiangnan? Why should I be the only one to suffer? I refuse to accept this!"

"Crack!"

Wei Zhongxian slammed his sword down heavily, and blood from Zhao Ji's mouth, mixed with broken teeth, splattered onto the moldy grain sack.

He slowly took out a plain white handkerchief to wipe his fingers, the gold-embroidered dragon pattern on the handkerchief gradually becoming soaked with blood: "Not convinced? Perfect."

He grabbed Zhao Ji's chin, his voice as soft as a viper's hiss.

“Spit out the names of the Transport Commissioner, the Assistant Prefect, and the Judge one by one, and maybe we'll grant you a complete corpse.”

Zhao Ji stood there dumbfounded, not saying a word, whether he was scared out of his wits or something else.

Wei Zhongxian gradually lost patience.

"Drag him to the imperial prison."

"Remember to wake him up with ice water—don't let our Ambassador Zhao sleep too soundly."

Just then, a commander of the Imperial Guards, dressed in a flying fish robe, stepped forward and whispered in Wei Zhongxian's ear.

His deliberately lowered voice carried a hint of mockery: "Master Eunuch, there's some activity at the old Taicang granary. The granary's ambassador, Wang Ganju, somehow got wind of it and is currently busy transporting grain into the granary." "Transporting grain?"

Wei Zhongxian raised a slender eyebrow, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes.

"That's interesting. Where did he get the food?"

The commander's lips curled into a mocking smile as he said softly, "Reporting to the Grand Eunuch, it was lent to him by several wealthy families in the city. It's said that Ambassador Wang promised them a three-tenths interest rate. After the warehouse inspection is completed, they will return it intact."

Upon hearing this, Wei Zhongxian suddenly let out a cold laugh.

The laughter was like a gust of wind blowing from an ice cellar, causing the surrounding Imperial Guards to unconsciously shrink their necks.

"What a fine Wang Ganju."

He slowly and deliberately stroked the jade thumb ring in his hand.

"Not much skill, but plenty of tricks up their sleeve."

He narrowed his sharp eyes and looked in the direction of the old Taicang, as if he could see through the walls and see the figure frantically replenishing the warehouse.

"Let him transport it."

Wei Zhongxian's voice suddenly became light and cheerful, yet it carried a chilling undertone.

“Once he’s filled the warehouse to the brim, we’ll go and meet this ‘capable’ Ambassador Ku.”

Under the moonlight, Wei Zhongxian's profile looked as sharp as if it had been carved with a knife.

He waved his hand lightly, and the Imperial Guards behind him immediately understood and silently disappeared into the darkness.

The night wind swirled up the fallen leaves, making a rustling sound, as if providing accompaniment for the wonderful show that was about to unfold.

On the other side, the old Taicang was brightly lit and bustling with people.

Wang Ganju sat imposingly in the center of the granary, with a small red clay stove in front of him.

The white broth in the copper pot bubbled and simmered, with shredded pickled vegetables tumbling among the milky white tofu cubes, and the rising steam made his oily face turn red.

"Hurry up and move it! All this grain must be packed in before dawn!"

He shouted towards the warehouse gate, then turned around and took a sip of liquor with relish.

Several laborers filed in carrying sacks of grain, and the heavy loads of grain were poured into the granary with a clattering sound that sounded more beautiful than celestial music to him.

"Ambassador, the last truckload of grain has arrived," a clerk said with a fawning smile.

"They were all borrowed from the Li family in the south of the city, and it's all recorded in the accounts."

Wang Ganju, his eyes half-closed with drunkenness, pointed his chopsticks into the warehouse and said, "Go, spread the bottom layer evenly and firmly for me."

He picked up a trembling piece of tofu, swallowed it in one gulp with some pickled vegetables, and his breath came out in pain from the heat.

"Once the Jinyiwei, those plague-causing demons, are gone, then we'll have our fun."

The crackling charcoal fire beneath the copper pot cast a reflection of his ever-changing expression.

The old rules of Taicang have been in place since his grandfather's generation.

When the higher-ups come to audit the accounts, the lower-ups borrow grain to fill the granaries. For the past hundred years, which granary magistrate hasn't done it this way?

Thinking of this, he became even more smug, and began to hum a little tune, swaying his head:
"Pickled vegetables rolled with tofu—even the emperor can't compare to me."

Suddenly a gust of wind swept through, causing the lanterns on the roof of the warehouse to sway violently.

In his drunken stupor, Wang Ganju seemed to see several dark figures flashing through the night outside the warehouse gate.

But he quickly shook his head and added more pickled vegetables to the pot—he must have drunk too much and his vision was blurry.

In the dead of night, besides Lord Wang, who else would be busy working in the granary?

Just as Wang Ganju was hesitating, the warehouse door was suddenly kicked open, and a draft blew in, causing the charcoal fire in the hot pot to go out for a moment with a "poof".

More than ten Imperial Guards filed in, and the leader, a centurion, kicked over a copper pot, spilling red oil soup onto the pile of account books, soaking a stack of fake grain receipts with still-wet ink.

Wang Ganju was still holding his chopsticks, the oil and sweat on his face seemingly frozen in time.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, this is..."

Wei Zhongxian's voice came from the shadows: "Ambassador Wang, you have quite the refined taste."

A scarlet python robe swept across the mess on the ground, and the tip of the embroidered spring knife picked up half a piece of tofu from the pot.

"In the old Taicang, there's still the leisure to eat pickled vegetables and tofu; even the emperor can't compare to me!"

"Humph!"

Wei Zhongxian snorted coldly and said, "I think you want to die!"

Wang Ganju's knees buckled and he knelt down, suddenly realizing that all the laborers transporting the grain had taken off their straw hats—they were clearly agents of the Eastern Depot.

He was shocked.

When did all these people become agents of the Eastern Depot?

He didn't even know?

Seeing Wang Ganju's shocked expression, Wei Zhongxian clapped his hands and laughed: "Hahaha~ Borrowing grain to replenish the granary? That's quite clever. But you've forgotten one thing!"

"This entire capital city is under the surveillance of my Eastern Depot. Do you think I wouldn't know you forged these grain receipts?"

PS:

I haven't been feeling well lately, and I've had a persistent headache, which has made it difficult for me to write.

The author has summarized several reasons:
1. I masturbated too much, and now I feel dizzy and weak. Starting today, I'm quitting! Today is day one of quitting!
2. There's nothing I can do about it if I play too much on my phone or computer.

3. Busy work schedule, sitting during and after get off work, lack of exercise, resulting in a 10-pound weight gain in two months, which constitutes a workplace injury. Going forward, try to exercise more and sit less to maintain good health!

4. I've been having a lot of bad luck lately. A few days ago, I was stung on the palm by a wasp, and today I swallowed a bone while eating pork rib porridge, which injured my esophagus. Now I have chest tightness and pain. I guess I'm just having a run of bad luck.

The author will try to recover physically and have more energy to create better content for everyone!

(End of this chapter)