Chapter 78: Laoye Song, Master of Playing Dumb |
Zhou An's eyes suddenly widened.
That single sentence from Song Shi'an instantly made his mind go blank.
For a long while, he couldn't react.
It wasn't until he felt the chill from that cold gaze that he realized—this visitor came with ill intent.
"Laoye."
However, he wasn't a pushover either—not someone who could be frightened by a single sentence. The tension on his face returned to a pleasant expression as he spoke with a smile that didn't reach his eyes: "You must be visiting Shuofeng for the first time, so you're not very familiar with some of the local customs here."
Song Shi'an said nothing, merely watching him.
Then Zhou An slowly walked to the chair behind him, sat down of his own accord, and said rather casually: "I know that you, Laoye, are young and hot-blooded, coming to Shuofeng wanting to make some achievements. But counties and prefectures are different from your Sheng'an. To speak bluntly—and perhaps treasonously—the heavens are high and the Emperor is far away."
As he spoke, Song Shi'an slowly stood up, looking at him with apparent interest, as if to say "continue."
"The past few county magistrates, which one didn't want to use their authority as court-appointed officials to throw their weight around at first? Want to put the city's powerful families in their place? That's simple—cut off their meals and they'll behave."
With that, Zhou An laughed, and remembering Master Zhang's instructions, he tried to be as polite as possible to this Young Master Song: "I know that County Magistrate Song wants to use the Great Yu's laws to pressure me, but there's really no need. The Emperor's laws have never reached below the county level. And this place is Northern Liang. If you want to have a seat at the table in Northern Liang, let me point you toward a path."
Song Shi'an lifted his head slightly.
Zhou An then spoke frankly: "Tomorrow, County Magistrate Song should come to the Zhang estate. Master Zhang will gather all the powerful families in the city for you. You toast them a few times, say that the nation faces hardship, the three armies fight valiantly to kill the enemy, and hope the various lords can support and reward the troops to bolster morale and comfort military hearts. For Master Zhang's face, and of course, for Magistrate Song's face too, they'll gather three thousand shi of grain for you that very day."
Hearing this, Song Shi'an pretended to be forgetful and asked: "What did you say?"
Does he think it's too little?
But Zhou An wouldn't raise the price casually, so he said: "I said, we'll gather three thousand shi of grain for you."
"No, no." Song Shi'an waved his hand. "Not that sentence."
"You come to the Zhang estate, Master Zhang will gather all the powerful families for you."
"Not that sentence either."
"I'll point you toward a path."
Zhou An was somewhat displeased and deliberately didn't use respectful language.
So Song Shi'an reminded him: "You said, I'm using the Great Yu's laws to pressure you?"
Zhou An froze, getting a bad premonition, but still spoke neither humbly nor arrogantly: "What of it?"
Then Song Shi'an raised his finger, tapped lightly, and said with a smile: "No, I'm using power to pressure you."
"..."
"Someone come."
His expression immediately changed drastically as Song Shi'an gave the order.
The next moment, the county clerk and San Gou entered together.
Zhou An, sitting in the chair, suddenly couldn't sit still. Staring at Song Shi'an, he began to panic about what this young man was going to do.
"Drag him out. According to military regulations, twenty strokes of the rod," Song Shi'an said coldly.
Twenty strokes in the military were different from those in the county office—they treated ordinary people like soldiers, naturally striking harder without mercy.
"You!" Zhou An shot to his feet.
The county clerk hesitated, not quite daring to move. But San Gou, like an emotionless execution machine, immediately grabbed his arm and hauled him outside.
The clerk then followed, grabbing the other side.
"Even to beat a dog, you must look at its master! How dare you lay hands on me?" Struggling to turn his head, Zhou An shouted at Song Shi'an, "I'm Master Zhang's dog! If you hit me, Master Zhang won't let you off!"
"What are you yelling about? Shut up!"
San Gou delivered a heavy slap across Zhou An's face, warning: "In the army, resisting punishment means death by beating—keep shouting and I'll beat you to death!"
That slap, combined with the threat, seemed to strike Zhou An's vocal cords directly, and he no longer dared to shout.
But his body continued to squirm and struggle like a maggot.
At this moment, County Magistrate Qi Mi walked over. Seeing this scene in the prison office corridor, he was dumbfounded. Then he quickened his pace toward the office chamber, first performing the customary greeting: "Laoye, I am County Magistrate Qi Mi."
"Magistrate Qi." Song Shi'an nodded slightly.
"Do you know who was just dragged out?" he asked worriedly.
"I don't know. I think his name was something An... Song Shi'an?" Song Shi'an mused.
"You're Song Shi'an."
Seeing that this Young Laoye Song was a master at playing dumb, the county magistrate stopped the act and said directly: "A mere servant who offended you—beating him to death would be one thing, but he's a servant of Master Zhang's household, and the chief steward at that. This time, by beating him, you've undoubtedly slapped Master Zhang's face."
"In such times of national crisis, when Master Zhang seeks his own benefit and refuses to show consideration for the court, what's wrong with disciplining him a bit?"
"Discipline is fine, but beating is not." Qi Mi said bluntly. "I know that Young Laoye Song comes from Sheng'an and can't stand Northern Liang's crude and simple powerful families. But Master Zhang—he's the Regional Inspector's uncle by marriage. If he doesn't leave now, before Wuwei falls and Ji Yuan's great army arrives in person, the Regional Inspector will definitely personally order someone to escort Master Zhang out of the city."
"If he could really leave, why didn't he leave earlier?" Song Shi'an asked.
"General Zhao nominally said that no one is permitted to leave Shuofeng," Qi Mi explained. "But in reality, he privately told Master Zhang that if he leaves, only he and his immediate family can go. Everyone else must stay. Wealth can be taken, but grain must remain."
"Is he greedy for money, or does he want to leave with all his servants?" Song Shi'an asked.
Qi Mi shook his head. "He wants all the powerful families in the city to withdraw together."
"Oh, I see."
Now Song Shi'an understood this Master Zhang's 'humanitarian' thinking.
In other words, as the Regional Inspector's uncle by marriage, he could leave whenever he wanted.
But as the leader of Northern Liang's aristocratic families, he wanted to preserve this class of interests.
Even if they had to migrate south from their ancestral lands, with these people supporting him, as an outsider he would still be a powerful family in Southern Liang.
Similarly, it was also to uphold a bottom line—soldiers don't touch the gentry.
In medieval Europe there was a consensus that even in wars of annihilation, defeated monarchs would not be killed and could still live comfortably.
First, they're all relatives—no need.
Second, no one can win forever. As long as there's a day when you lose, maintaining this bottom line without breaking this rule means that when history's wheels roll over, only the corpses of commoners are crushed beneath.
Master Zhang represented a position—regime change is acceptable, but you cannot destroy the thousand-year legacy of aristocratic families.
In the current world, whether the Qi Emperor, the King of Northern Yan in Liaodong, or the Yu Emperor—ultimately they were all representatives of the strongest families supported by the gentry.
Of course, Nanling Baiyue was different.
Over there they were still in tribal conflicts.
"So, Laoye, you can't beat him!"
Knowing he understood, Qi Mi urged somewhat anxiously.
"But I've already beaten him. What now?" Song Shi'an asked.
"They should have just started beating him. I'll go stop it right now!" Qi Mi immediately prepared to turn around.
"Don't." Song Shi'an stopped him. "If we stop halfway through the beating, what about my face?"
"..."
This statement left Qi Mi speechless. After holding it in for a long while, he asked: "If Laoye dares to beat him, it shouldn't be on impulse. Presumably, you must have some measures to suppress Master Zhang?"
"Using power to pressure—will that work?"
"Is Laoye's power greater than the Regional Inspector's?"
"What about the Sixth Prince's power?"
"...That would naturally work."
Though Qi Mi said this, in his heart he knew it was basically hopeless.
The Sixth Prince has fuck-all for power.
Power is accumulated.
In this regard, the Sixth Prince had no foundation whatsoever. What he currently had that could be called 'power' was more accurately called 'authority through killing.'
The initial wave of authority through killing is strong, but to govern ten thousand people, you can't rely entirely on killing authority.
"Don't worry, if the sky falls, the Sixth Prince will hold it up."
Song Shi'an slowly patted his shoulder, his tone relaxed.
What could Qi Mi say? He could only let out a light sigh.
Song Shi'an waited for a while. When the beating was about finished, he left the prison office.
Then he saw Zhou An lying face-down on a long bench, his buttocks beaten to a pulp, covered in blood, his whole person as weak as a dead dog, being watched by a large crowd of common people.
"Isn't this Master Zhang's steward? How did he get beaten like this?"
"This person is probably going to die, right?"
"Too brutal. I watched the whole thing—the first stroke made him squeal like a pig."
"Did this new Laoye do this? Doesn't he know this is someone from Master Zhang's household?"
Seeing so many onlookers, Song Shi'an walked to the front quite relaxed, looked at Zhou An who was covered in cold sweat and nearly unconscious, clapped his hands, and said loudly: "What are you all standing around for? Quickly send him back to Master Zhang—have some manners."