Chapter 66: Rules

“Lord Ling, I must apologize to you. I failed to supervise properly and have brought you shame,” Pei Shinan admitted his fault outright. There are limits to what one person can manage, and he knew he couldn’t handle everything flawlessly.

“Go and gather everyone. I have something to say to them,” Ling Chi waved him off.

Pei Shinan acknowledged the order and departed. Soon, the sound of galloping horses echoed as he summoned his colleagues from all directions.

Ling Chi hadn’t finished his roast meat when Pei Shinan returned, leading a group of banner officers, with his deputy, Wang Chuan, following close behind.

Most of these junior banner officers were Pei Shinan’s trusted confidants. In a typical institution, they might have already sidelined Ling Chi, but things were different here. Power and strength were inseparable, and among everyone present, Ling Chi was the youngest, but his fists were the strongest.

At present, the Jing’an Bureau in Willow Town had twenty-two junior banner officers and one senior. Technically, this exceeded the official quota, but Ling Chi never followed the rules. In this patch of land, his rules were the only rules.

Ling Chi stood before the crowd. The oppressive silence weighed heavily, so much so that not a sound was heard—even their breathing slowed.

“You’ve all been at the Jing’an Bureau for quite some time now. Surely none of you are unfamiliar with me? Though I seldom appear, your affairs often reach my ears.”

This was a psychological tactic—an opening declaration that meant: I know everything about you, so don’t try to hide anything. At this, the crowd would wonder which incident was known above, whether all were discovered, and if a traitor had informed.

“I believe I’ve treated you fairly, never withheld a single copper coin from you. Old Pei has looked after his colleagues well enough. Yet some among you, behind Old Pei’s back, have extorted and bullied the common folk, thinking we’re unaware. You’re mistaken.”

Ling Chi deliberately separated Pei Shinan from the rest to avoid stirring rebellion among his subordinates; after all, he couldn’t kill everyone, otherwise who would do the work?

“Step forward and confess now; I might let you off. Otherwise, you’ll regret it when it’s too late.” He turned away from the group, no longer looking at them.

The crowd exchanged glances, waiting to see who would step forward.

A young man in the back row, head bowed, clenched his teeth and moved to the front.

“Lord Ling, I am at fault. Please punish me.”

“It’s Ma Han. What did he do?”

“No idea, haven’t heard anything,” murmurs arose, but instantly ceased when Ling Chi turned back.

“Speak for yourself—be honest,” Ling Chi said to Ma Han.

“My lord, I took money from the Grand Gambling House and helped them clear out two underground casinos,” Ma Han confessed, shame coloring his words.

“Are you so short of money, Ma Han? I remember your name.”

“My lord, I spend recklessly and am fond of pleasure. My brother was tricked into owing the gambling house, and last month my mother suddenly fell ill—we had no money for treatment. The gambling house came to collect, so I…” Ma Han stammered, unable to finish.

Ling Chi walked over to him, landed a punch on his face with a loud thud, sending Ma Han flying several yards. He’d held back his strength; otherwise, the blow would have been fatal.

Why use a fist instead of a slap? Because slapping the face wounds pride.

“Stand back where you were,” Ling Chi said quietly.

Ma Han clutched his cheek, spat a mouthful of blood, and hurried back to his place.

“Do you know where you went wrong?”

“I shouldn’t have taken dirty money,” Ma Han admitted.

“Bang!”

Ma Han flew back to his previous spot.

“Get back up. Think carefully before you answer. Are you implying my money is clean? You think my earnings are pure?”

Ling Chi’s voice echoed across the empty grounds.

Ma Han lay there stunned for three seconds, then rushed back to his place.

“I shouldn’t have done dirty work for the gambling house,” Ma Han pondered, thinking his mistake was in taking money and doing their dirty work.

“Bang!”

He fell into the same rut once more.

Pei Shinan and the junior banner officers couldn’t figure out Ma Han’s true mistake, and could only watch in anxious silence.

“Get up and stand. Do you plan to crawl in that cesspit till the new year?” Ling Chi’s volume grew.

Startled, Ma Han scrambled to his feet and resumed his position.

Ling Chi looked at his swollen face, finding nowhere left to strike, and relaxed his fist.

“Still don’t know where you went wrong? Has a dog eaten your brain?”

“If you need money, why not ask your senior banner officer for a loan? If you can't bring yourself to ask, couldn’t you gather a few capable colleagues and raid three or five underground casinos? Is that so hard?”

“Are you brainless? You cleared out the underground casinos for them, but did you take back the money?”

“If you’re short on funds, why not target some heartless wealthy lords? Is that beyond you?”

“And you take dirty money? That’s not dirty money—it’s your reward for labor.”

Ling Chi spoke faster, his disappointment clear, and the crowd finally understood. Suppressed laughter rippled below.

“And Old Pei and Wang Chuan, you two, don’t stand there snickering. Take better care of your brothers. If your comrades are so poor they resort to dirty work, and you know nothing, you still have the nerve to laugh? I’m embarrassed for you.”

The two men flushed red at Ling Chi’s words, unable to retort.

They felt Ling Chi’s methods were nothing like officialdom, though they didn’t realize this was the true way of the bureaucracy. He’d seen even more ruthless approaches.

“And the rest of you—those who buy things without paying, who extort and bully—I don’t want to quibble, but remember, there are countless ways to make money. Don’t always chase petty gains; squeezing the poor yields little.”

“Not to mention distant examples—just today, we raided the Xue family. Wang Chuan, how much did we seize from Xue’s house?” Ling Chi nodded to Wang Chuan.

Wang Chuan quickly produced a small ledger. “My lord, we seized 1,475 gold coins, 3,750 silver coins, forty-five thousand copper coins, property deeds, land deeds, and some paintings yet to be sold.”

“Did you hear that? From just one Xue, we got so much. Can’t you use your brains?”

“These days, even taking down a profiteering merchant is better than targeting small vendors,” Ling Chi turned to Ma Han, continuing.

“You’re the Jing’an Bureau. How can you let those yokels at the gambling house push you around? You’re a disgrace. Grab your gear and follow me—tonight we’ll tear down that gambling house. Ma Han, you’ll lead the way.”

Ling Chi grew angrier, determined to retaliate immediately and restore the Bureau’s reputation.

The others watched Ling Chi act on his words, caught off guard; though their minds hadn’t caught up, their bodies followed. Pei Shinan and Wang Chuan exchanged glances, smiling wryly.

Ling Chi’s conduct perfectly matched their military values—earning money with their own hands, never flinching, though perhaps a bit reckless. Shouldn’t they wear masks?

Ling Chi had no intention of masking his face. He was brandishing the Bureau’s name, aiming for lasting impact—disciplining his ranks and establishing dominance in the underworld, a win-win strategy.