Chapter 6: Consolidation

The disaster relief procession stretched out of Chang'an City in a grand spectacle. Carriages, mule carts, and marching soldiers formed a long, winding line. From afar, a faint aura of baleful energy seemed to rise above the column, lending it a formidable presence.

Lin Yuan rode a lean horse, positioned in the middle-to-rear section of the procession.

The horse was allocated by the Ministry of War. Originally, he wasn't qualified to ride, but as an Inspector, he held a nominal seventh-rank junior position, barely enough to warrant a horse.

It's just that this horse walked with a jolting gait, jostling him until his backside ached.

Leading the procession was the silver transport supervisor dispatched by the Ministry of Revenue, Fang De. Around forty years old, portly, with a round face perpetually wearing a Maitreya Buddha-like smile, he was Zhao Chong's man.

Censor Liu Fang rode a tall horse at the front, flanked by two attendants, cutting an imposing figure. He represented the Second Princess, Jiang Lingwan.

The escorting troops were led by a captain from the Dingguo Duke's residence, Huo Qing. In his early twenties, lean and wiry, he spoke little. His posture was ramrod straight as a spear, his gaze as sharp as a hawk's, and his temples slightly bulged, clearly indicating not-insignificant internal energy.

The three factions each occupied their own space, clearly demarcated.

And then there was Lin Yuan, alone and isolated, without even a clerk to grind his ink.

On the first day out of the city, they covered sixty li, reaching a courier station before dark.

Lin Yuan dismounted, his legs trembling.

He wasn't a martial artist. The original body's meager cultivation at the early Houtian stage was nearly shaken apart by a day of riding.

The courier station wasn't large, with only five main rooms.

Fang De, citing the need for "strict supervision of the silver carts," occupied the two largest rooms. Liu Fang took one, and Huo Qing took another.

Lin Yuan stood in the courtyard. A cold wind blew. He turned to ask the stationmaster, "Are there any rooms left?"

The stationmaster looked troubled. "Your Honor, the main rooms are full. There's only a small partitioned space next to the woodshed..."

"Fine, that one will do."

He carried his bundle into the partitioned space. It was less a room and more a corner of the woodshed sectioned off with wooden planks, barely large enough for a plank bed and a table missing a leg.

He set down his bundle and went out to find water.

In the courtyard, Fang De was directing his men to unload boxes from the silver carts, loudly counting them as they worked. Lin Yuan walked over for a look.

"Supervisor Fang, what's going on?"

Fang De turned with a beaming smile. "Ah, Inspector Lin! We've reached the station, so we're consolidating the silver boxes for easier nighttime supervision."

"The boxes were sealed when leaving the capital, weren't they? Why open and consolidate them now?"

Fang De's smile didn't waver, but his eyes narrowed to slits.

"You may not be aware, Inspector Lin, but the journey is bumpy, and the boxes inevitably loosen. It's a long-standing rule of the Ministry of Revenue to recount and reinforce them at each station."

Lin Yuan nodded, asking no further questions, but his gaze remained fixed on those boxes.

Eight hundred thousand taels of silver, divided into forty large boxes, twenty thousand taels each.

He had personally witnessed the sealing of the boxes when departing Chang'an. After just one day, this "rule" was already in effect?

He silently retreated to the side, leaning against a corridor pillar, watching coldly.

Fang De's men worked deftly—opening boxes, moving silver, counting, repacking. The entire process was smooth as flowing water; an outsider would see nothing amiss.

But Lin Yuan noticed a detail.

After repacking, three boxes had new seals.

The old seals bore the Ministry of Revenue's vermilion official stamp; the new ones did too.

But the vermilion imprint of the characters "Ministry of Revenue" on the batch of seals used before departure was slightly offset to the left. The imprints on these three new seals, however, were perfectly centered.

Someone had prepared another set of seals in advance.

Lin Yuan's expression remained impassive. He turned and returned to his partitioned space.

Sitting on the plank bed, he took out the small notebook he carried, and under the dim oil lamp, meticulously recorded everything he had observed that day, including the discrepancy in the seal imprints.

After finishing his notes, he lay down, staring at the drafty roof beams overhead.

'Daring to tamper on the very first day... truly audacious.'

But then again, it made sense. Eight hundred thousand taels of silver, over a thousand li of road, passing through seven or eight stations. Consolidate at each station, swap a few boxes each time. By the time they reached Huainan, even if a shortage was discovered, who could pinpoint at which link the problem occurred?

'Zhao Chong isn't even bothering with a fig leaf.'

He turned over and soon fell asleep.

---

That evening, at a tavern in the town.

Fang De was indeed generous, booking a private room with a table laden with dishes. During the meal, he personally filled everyone's cups, raised his own, and said with a smile, "Gentlemen, we are all serving the nation and the people on this journey. The road is arduous. Let me first propose a toast to everyone!"

After three rounds of drinks, Fang De pulled three exquisite silk pouches from his sleeve, sliding them toward Lin Yuan, Liu Fang, and Huo Qing.

"A small token of my esteem. For the journey ahead, I hope the three of you will look favorably upon me."

Lin Yuan opened his and glanced inside—several silver notes, a substantial amount. He smiled and pushed the pouch back. "Supervisor Fang is too kind. Serving the court, our salaries are sufficient."

Liu Fang also waved his hand with a smile, his tone smooth. "I appreciate Supervisor Fang's sentiment, but this isn't proper. We each have our duties; cooperating with each other is enough. Why go to such lengths?"

Huo Qing didn't even look, coldly uttering two words: "Take it."

The smile on Fang De's face stiffened for a moment before he laughed it off and retrieved the pouches. "My oversight! The three of you are men of high integrity. I'll punish myself with three cups!"

He downed three cups in succession. The atmosphere seemed lively again, but the polite conversation held a touch more falseness.

Midway through the meal, Fang De excused himself to freshen up.

Lin Yuan noticed one of Fang De's trusted men also quietly followed him out. The two exchanged a few low words under the corridor outside before the subordinate hurried off into the night, heading precisely toward the courier station.

Lin Yuan set down his chopsticks and also left the tavern, silently circling to the rear courtyard of the station.

Under the moonlight, that trusted subordinate was directing two others, moving heavy silver ingots from a large box into an inconspicuous mule cart already prepared with hay and oilcloth.

What was inside went without saying.

Lin Yuan did not alert them, silently retreating back into the darkness.

---

In the following days, at every station, Fang De unfailingly opened and consolidated the boxes.

Liu Fang turned a blind eye to it, spending his days chatting and laughing with his attendants.

Huo Qing grew increasingly silent, merely expanding his soldiers' patrol range to cover the entire station. But he was only responsible for the convoy's safety; changes inside the silver boxes were beyond his concern.

Lin Yuan recorded his daily observations in his small notebook. By the evening of the sixth day, he had filled over a dozen pages.

On the evening of the sixth day, the convoy camped outside a county town.

Lin Yuan sat by a campfire, chewing on a dry biscuit and flipping through his notebook, feeling nothing but absurdity and mockery.

In six days, Fang De had tampered at least six times, involving over ten silver boxes.

By his estimate, at least one hundred thousand taels of silver had been swapped out.

Before the disaster relief silver even reached Huainan, a huge chunk had already been nibbled away.

And this was just the losses on the road. Once in Huainan, the Provincial Administration Commission would take a cut, then the various prefectures and counties...

Three hundred thousand displaced people. Eight hundred thousand taels of life-saving silver.

In the end, how many bowls of watery gruel, thin enough to reflect a face, would it buy?

Lin Yuan closed his notebook and looked up at the pitch-black night sky.

Tomorrow, they would enter Huainan territory.

He swallowed the last bite of dry biscuit and brushed the crumbs from his hands.

'Alright then. Those who deserve to die... when the time comes, we'll all be on the same road.'

In the distance, Fang De's tent was brightly lit, the crisp sound of abacus beads faintly audible.

For some, this relief mission was indeed a heaven-sent business opportunity.

One just wonders if, in their own ledgers, they've accounted for a variable that doesn't value his own life.