Chapter 44
Xu Xian, you've fallen for their trap.
...
Manager Liu was in his fifties, tall and thin, wearing a blue cloth long gown, and looked like a schoolteacher.
He stood at the entrance of the public housing building, bowing respectfully to Xu Xian and Yang Xu.
"Lord Xu, Lord Yang, I have handled all the matters at the mine. Please feel free to ask me anything."
Xu Xian sat down on the chair with an air of authority, and the chair creaked twice.
He leaned the eight-sided sword against the table. "Manager Liu, please produce the mining records for cold iron for the entire year last year. I need to compare them with the amount confiscated by the imperial court, cart by cart."
Manager Liu nodded, turned around and instructed two servants to go to the storeroom to move the records. He then personally poured a cup of tea for Xu Xian and Yang Xu, his skillful technique ensuring that not a drop of tea spilled from the spout.
A short while later, the servant brought over a thick stack of mining records and placed them on the table.
Manager Liu personally opened the top book and laid it out in front of Xu Xian.
"Please take a look, sir. These are the ore output details for the entire year of last year. Each truck has a signed receipt with a fingerprint on it."
Xu Xian compared each vehicle.
The mine's ore extraction records are handwritten on-site. Each truckload of ore is signed and fingerprinted by the miner, the transport team leader, and the warehouse keeper when it leaves the mine. The handwriting is messy, but all records are verifiable.
The amount confiscated by the imperial court was based on the official warehousing records copied from the Registrar of the Household Department. Xu Xian used a charcoal pencil to check each line in his notebook, verifying the departure time, transport vehicle number, and quantity of each batch of ore.
Yang Xu stood behind him, glancing at the account book and then at Steward Liu, his fingers tapping incessantly on the hilt of his knife.
After verification, Xu put down the charcoal pencil.
The records were meticulously accurate—every cartload of cold iron recorded in the mine's output records had a corresponding receipt and warehousing record in the imperial court's seizure records.
The train numbers match, the quantities match, and the times match.
According to the records, this batch of cold iron went from the mine to the imperial granary without missing a single pound.
Manager Liu stood to the side, a slight smile playing on his lips.
"Rest assured, my lord, the cold iron is a vital asset of the imperial court. Who would dare to tamper with it? Every cartload of ore leaves the mine with the signatures of three parties, and there is also an inspection upon arrival at the official warehouse. If even a pound is missing, the person responsible will be held accountable. I dare to guarantee this with my head."
"Who dares to tamper with it?"
Xu Xian smirked and glanced at him sideways, "You dare to do that?"
Steward Liu was taken aback, his smile freezing on his face. "What makes you say that, sir? The records are crystal clear, this humble official..."
"It's all clearly stated in the accounts."
Xu interrupted him, pushing the ledger aside. "I only want to ask you, how much ore can you mine in a month?"
Manager Liu thought for a moment and gave a number: "About two hundred tons."
This number is not much different from what the miners said.
Xu Xian then asked, "How much cold iron can be refined from two hundred tons of ore?"
"Well, the grade of ore varies, so it's hard to generalize. A ton of good ore can yield about 20 kilograms, while a ton of poor ore can yield about 10 kilograms. On average, about 200 tons of ore can yield about 4,000 kilograms of cold iron."
"How many kilograms of cold iron do you sign up for orders each month?"
Manager Liu froze, his face paling. He opened his mouth, "About...about..."
Xu Xian narrowed his eyes and tapped his fingers three times on the table. "Have you thought about your reply?"
Manager Liu shuddered. "Three...three thousand three hundred jin."
Xu Xian chuckled. This old fellow was sensible; he knew Xu Xian had come prepared, had checked the accounts, and hadn't fooled him.
Yang Xu, standing to the side, suddenly widened his eyes and slammed his hand on the table. "An 800-plus jin (400 kg) deficit?! You ate it?!"
"No, no, no!"
Manager Liu waved his hands repeatedly, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and hanging on the tip of his nose.
"Lord Yang, please calm down! These eight hundred-plus catties are not for my consumption! I would never dare to do that! That would be punishable by the extermination of nine generations of your family! It was...it was intercepted when it was being taken out of the warehouse!"
"Intercepted?"
Xu Xian raised an eyebrow slightly. "How was it captured? Who captured it? Explain clearly."
Manager Liu wiped his sweat.
"Every time the cold iron is forged, I register it in the warehouse and report it according to the rules. But after it is put into the warehouse, Lord Sima will send someone with his warrant to take away about 20% of the cold iron directly."
The mine's output records are accurate, as are the imperial court's confiscation records. The 20% that was seized was directly transported away through the side gate of the official granary.
"Who transported it?"
"There's a merchant named Sun Quan who's been doing business in Qingzhou for several years. He has a caravan under his command, and he always comes to pick up the goods with Lord Sima's warrant. We're just responsible for distributing the goods according to the warrant. Who dares to stop Lord Sima from approving the warrant?"
Xu Xian leaned forward slightly. "How many times have you handled this?"
Manager Liu lowered his head. "Three years... about thirty or forty times."
"Thirty or forty times, and you never stopped them even once?"
"I tried to stop them once."
Manager Liu's face was contorted with worry, his hands trembling, and he was almost in tears.
"The first time the discrepancy was discovered two years ago, I wrote an official letter to ask Lord Sima what the purpose of this batch of cold iron was. That very night, my son lost an ear... My son was only twelve years old."
Yang Xu gripped the knife, gritting his teeth.
Xu Xian remained silent for a long while, looking at Steward Liu's trembling hands and red eyes.
"We weren't here today, understand?"
"Your humble servant understands."
Manager Liu bowed, then hesitated for a moment as he straightened up.
"Lord Xu, that Sun Quan... he is always accompanied by several experts. Although I do not know martial arts, those people walk differently from ordinary merchants. They make no sound at all. If you want to arrest him, you must bring more men."
Xu Xian nodded and, together with Yang Xu, rode back with the mining records and receipts.
Halfway through the journey, Yang Xu, mounted on his horse, glanced back at the increasingly distant mine and spat.
"Over 800 jin... Over the past three years, at least 20,000 jin of cold iron have disappeared without a trace. This case has connections to the highest levels!"
Xu Xian's expression was also grave. "Twenty thousand catties of cold iron, how much military equipment could that make? What exactly is the person behind this planning to do..."
As they were talking, his mount suddenly snorted uneasily, pawed at the ground with its front hooves, and refused to move forward.
Xu Xian pulled on the reins, placed his right hand on the hilt of the eight-sided sword, and looked around.
Four men dressed in black sprang out from the dense forest on either side of the road, blocking the way in a line. They were all armed with narrow-bladed longswords.
The leader of the men in black drew his long sword, the tip pointing diagonally towards the ground.
"Xu Xiaoqi, I've heard so much about you. You've investigated so many cases, from the capital to Qingzhou. It's time for you to take a break."
Before he could finish speaking, a long sword came slashing down.
Do you recognize me? Or is this an old acquaintance?
Xu Xian was somewhat surprised. He dodged the blade by sidestepping it, and the eight-sided sword slashed diagonally upwards, sending sparks flying.
The two fought fiercely on the forest road. The eight-sided sword was heavy, and each strike was powerful and heavy. The man in black had a fast knife but dared not meet it head-on.
Yang Xu charged in from the side, sweeping his knife to force back the other three.
In the midst of the melee, Xu Xian forced back the man in black in front of him with a single sword strike, then unleashed a palm strike with his left hand – "The Dragon Regrets."
The golden palm strike landed squarely on the opponent's chest, and the man in black coughed up a mouthful of blood. He slid down slowly against an old pine tree, his long sword falling to the ground from his hand.
Xu Xian sheathed his sword, walked over to him, and squatted down.
"You dare to try and mess with me at the sixth level of Body Tempering? Does your master look down on me that much?"
Just as he was about to remove the mask from the man in black, the man in black suddenly smiled slowly and looked at his hand.
"Xu Xian...you've fallen into a trap. Killing you doesn't necessarily require a knife."
After saying that, he stopped breathing.
Xu was stunned. He looked down at the back of his hand. The blood that had splattered when he slapped the other man's chest was seeping into his skin, like a living thing actively burrowing inside.
In the blink of an eye, a thin black line appeared on his wrist, slowly extending upwards along the meridians.
A sudden rush of panic and shortness of breath hit my chest, and cold sweat instantly beaded on my forehead.
His heart sank. He grabbed the man in black and pressed him to the ground. He pulled open the back of the man's clothes and saw the Gu mark of the ouroboros, a pattern of small snakes with their heads and tails connected.
"It's you guys again..."
Xu Xian gritted his teeth and squeezed out a few words before his vision went black and he collapsed to the ground.
Upon seeing this, Yang Xu's pupils constricted, and he forced back the man in black in front of him with a single strike, charging towards Xu Xian.
The remaining three men in black, each wounded, saw Xu fall to the ground and ceased fighting, quickly retreating into the dense forest and disappearing. Their original purpose was to distract Yang Xu.
Yang Xu held Xu Xian's limp body, his left hand pressing against the black line slowly spreading upwards on Xu Xian's wrist, his face filled with terror.
"Tsk... What the hell is this thing?!"
Xu Xian did not respond. His breathing became more and more rapid, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, his lips turned bluish-purple, and his eyes rolled back as he collapsed.
"Fuck fuck fuck!"
Yang Xu cursed three times, hoisted him onto his horse, and galloped off towards Qingzhou City. The sound of hooves gradually faded into the twilight.
Manager Liu was in his fifties, tall and thin, wearing a blue cloth long gown, and looked like a schoolteacher.
He stood at the entrance of the public housing building, bowing respectfully to Xu Xian and Yang Xu.
"Lord Xu, Lord Yang, I have handled all the matters at the mine. Please feel free to ask me anything."
Xu Xian sat down on the chair with an air of authority, and the chair creaked twice.
He leaned the eight-sided sword against the table. "Manager Liu, please produce the mining records for cold iron for the entire year last year. I need to compare them with the amount confiscated by the imperial court, cart by cart."
Manager Liu nodded, turned around and instructed two servants to go to the storeroom to move the records. He then personally poured a cup of tea for Xu Xian and Yang Xu, his skillful technique ensuring that not a drop of tea spilled from the spout.
A short while later, the servant brought over a thick stack of mining records and placed them on the table.
Manager Liu personally opened the top book and laid it out in front of Xu Xian.
"Please take a look, sir. These are the ore output details for the entire year of last year. Each truck has a signed receipt with a fingerprint on it."
Xu Xian compared each vehicle.
The mine's ore extraction records are handwritten on-site. Each truckload of ore is signed and fingerprinted by the miner, the transport team leader, and the warehouse keeper when it leaves the mine. The handwriting is messy, but all records are verifiable.
The amount confiscated by the imperial court was based on the official warehousing records copied from the Registrar of the Household Department. Xu Xian used a charcoal pencil to check each line in his notebook, verifying the departure time, transport vehicle number, and quantity of each batch of ore.
Yang Xu stood behind him, glancing at the account book and then at Steward Liu, his fingers tapping incessantly on the hilt of his knife.
After verification, Xu put down the charcoal pencil.
The records were meticulously accurate—every cartload of cold iron recorded in the mine's output records had a corresponding receipt and warehousing record in the imperial court's seizure records.
The train numbers match, the quantities match, and the times match.
According to the records, this batch of cold iron went from the mine to the imperial granary without missing a single pound.
Manager Liu stood to the side, a slight smile playing on his lips.
"Rest assured, my lord, the cold iron is a vital asset of the imperial court. Who would dare to tamper with it? Every cartload of ore leaves the mine with the signatures of three parties, and there is also an inspection upon arrival at the official warehouse. If even a pound is missing, the person responsible will be held accountable. I dare to guarantee this with my head."
"Who dares to tamper with it?"
Xu Xian smirked and glanced at him sideways, "You dare to do that?"
Steward Liu was taken aback, his smile freezing on his face. "What makes you say that, sir? The records are crystal clear, this humble official..."
"It's all clearly stated in the accounts."
Xu interrupted him, pushing the ledger aside. "I only want to ask you, how much ore can you mine in a month?"
Manager Liu thought for a moment and gave a number: "About two hundred tons."
This number is not much different from what the miners said.
Xu Xian then asked, "How much cold iron can be refined from two hundred tons of ore?"
"Well, the grade of ore varies, so it's hard to generalize. A ton of good ore can yield about 20 kilograms, while a ton of poor ore can yield about 10 kilograms. On average, about 200 tons of ore can yield about 4,000 kilograms of cold iron."
"How many kilograms of cold iron do you sign up for orders each month?"
Manager Liu froze, his face paling. He opened his mouth, "About...about..."
Xu Xian narrowed his eyes and tapped his fingers three times on the table. "Have you thought about your reply?"
Manager Liu shuddered. "Three...three thousand three hundred jin."
Xu Xian chuckled. This old fellow was sensible; he knew Xu Xian had come prepared, had checked the accounts, and hadn't fooled him.
Yang Xu, standing to the side, suddenly widened his eyes and slammed his hand on the table. "An 800-plus jin (400 kg) deficit?! You ate it?!"
"No, no, no!"
Manager Liu waved his hands repeatedly, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and hanging on the tip of his nose.
"Lord Yang, please calm down! These eight hundred-plus catties are not for my consumption! I would never dare to do that! That would be punishable by the extermination of nine generations of your family! It was...it was intercepted when it was being taken out of the warehouse!"
"Intercepted?"
Xu Xian raised an eyebrow slightly. "How was it captured? Who captured it? Explain clearly."
Manager Liu wiped his sweat.
"Every time the cold iron is forged, I register it in the warehouse and report it according to the rules. But after it is put into the warehouse, Lord Sima will send someone with his warrant to take away about 20% of the cold iron directly."
The mine's output records are accurate, as are the imperial court's confiscation records. The 20% that was seized was directly transported away through the side gate of the official granary.
"Who transported it?"
"There's a merchant named Sun Quan who's been doing business in Qingzhou for several years. He has a caravan under his command, and he always comes to pick up the goods with Lord Sima's warrant. We're just responsible for distributing the goods according to the warrant. Who dares to stop Lord Sima from approving the warrant?"
Xu Xian leaned forward slightly. "How many times have you handled this?"
Manager Liu lowered his head. "Three years... about thirty or forty times."
"Thirty or forty times, and you never stopped them even once?"
"I tried to stop them once."
Manager Liu's face was contorted with worry, his hands trembling, and he was almost in tears.
"The first time the discrepancy was discovered two years ago, I wrote an official letter to ask Lord Sima what the purpose of this batch of cold iron was. That very night, my son lost an ear... My son was only twelve years old."
Yang Xu gripped the knife, gritting his teeth.
Xu Xian remained silent for a long while, looking at Steward Liu's trembling hands and red eyes.
"We weren't here today, understand?"
"Your humble servant understands."
Manager Liu bowed, then hesitated for a moment as he straightened up.
"Lord Xu, that Sun Quan... he is always accompanied by several experts. Although I do not know martial arts, those people walk differently from ordinary merchants. They make no sound at all. If you want to arrest him, you must bring more men."
Xu Xian nodded and, together with Yang Xu, rode back with the mining records and receipts.
Halfway through the journey, Yang Xu, mounted on his horse, glanced back at the increasingly distant mine and spat.
"Over 800 jin... Over the past three years, at least 20,000 jin of cold iron have disappeared without a trace. This case has connections to the highest levels!"
Xu Xian's expression was also grave. "Twenty thousand catties of cold iron, how much military equipment could that make? What exactly is the person behind this planning to do..."
As they were talking, his mount suddenly snorted uneasily, pawed at the ground with its front hooves, and refused to move forward.
Xu Xian pulled on the reins, placed his right hand on the hilt of the eight-sided sword, and looked around.
Four men dressed in black sprang out from the dense forest on either side of the road, blocking the way in a line. They were all armed with narrow-bladed longswords.
The leader of the men in black drew his long sword, the tip pointing diagonally towards the ground.
"Xu Xiaoqi, I've heard so much about you. You've investigated so many cases, from the capital to Qingzhou. It's time for you to take a break."
Before he could finish speaking, a long sword came slashing down.
Do you recognize me? Or is this an old acquaintance?
Xu Xian was somewhat surprised. He dodged the blade by sidestepping it, and the eight-sided sword slashed diagonally upwards, sending sparks flying.
The two fought fiercely on the forest road. The eight-sided sword was heavy, and each strike was powerful and heavy. The man in black had a fast knife but dared not meet it head-on.
Yang Xu charged in from the side, sweeping his knife to force back the other three.
In the midst of the melee, Xu Xian forced back the man in black in front of him with a single sword strike, then unleashed a palm strike with his left hand – "The Dragon Regrets."
The golden palm strike landed squarely on the opponent's chest, and the man in black coughed up a mouthful of blood. He slid down slowly against an old pine tree, his long sword falling to the ground from his hand.
Xu Xian sheathed his sword, walked over to him, and squatted down.
"You dare to try and mess with me at the sixth level of Body Tempering? Does your master look down on me that much?"
Just as he was about to remove the mask from the man in black, the man in black suddenly smiled slowly and looked at his hand.
"Xu Xian...you've fallen into a trap. Killing you doesn't necessarily require a knife."
After saying that, he stopped breathing.
Xu was stunned. He looked down at the back of his hand. The blood that had splattered when he slapped the other man's chest was seeping into his skin, like a living thing actively burrowing inside.
In the blink of an eye, a thin black line appeared on his wrist, slowly extending upwards along the meridians.
A sudden rush of panic and shortness of breath hit my chest, and cold sweat instantly beaded on my forehead.
His heart sank. He grabbed the man in black and pressed him to the ground. He pulled open the back of the man's clothes and saw the Gu mark of the ouroboros, a pattern of small snakes with their heads and tails connected.
"It's you guys again..."
Xu Xian gritted his teeth and squeezed out a few words before his vision went black and he collapsed to the ground.
Upon seeing this, Yang Xu's pupils constricted, and he forced back the man in black in front of him with a single strike, charging towards Xu Xian.
The remaining three men in black, each wounded, saw Xu fall to the ground and ceased fighting, quickly retreating into the dense forest and disappearing. Their original purpose was to distract Yang Xu.
Yang Xu held Xu Xian's limp body, his left hand pressing against the black line slowly spreading upwards on Xu Xian's wrist, his face filled with terror.
"Tsk... What the hell is this thing?!"
Xu Xian did not respond. His breathing became more and more rapid, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, his lips turned bluish-purple, and his eyes rolled back as he collapsed.
"Fuck fuck fuck!"
Yang Xu cursed three times, hoisted him onto his horse, and galloped off towards Qingzhou City. The sound of hooves gradually faded into the twilight.