The meeting ended on a sour note.
Knowing these officials were unreliable, Ian Song decided he would have to take action himself.
So, he called over a yamen runner and instructed him to summon the head constable and the head yamen runner.
In the prefectural yamen, the head constables handle investigations and arrests, while the yamen runners are responsible for the safety of officials and errands. During court sessions, the ones standing on either side with the intimidating rods are also yamen runners.
Both the head constable and the head yamen runner hold ninth-rank official posts.
“Greetings, Vice-Prefect!”
“Your subordinate greets the Vice-Prefect!”
The two arrived together and saluted Ian Song in unison.
“How many men do you have available?”
Ian Song asked.
Gavin Grant, the head constable, replied, “Sir, I have eighty-three imperial constables under me, but since the yamen hasn’t paid salaries for over half a year, more than half have taken leave to do outside work and support their families.”
Hearing this, Ian Song couldn’t help but shake his head again. Bruce Summers, the prefectural governor, had truly failed in his job.
Leonard Lewis, the head yamen runner, added, “Sir, I have fifty-seven yamen runners, but more than twenty are on leave.”
“Here’s the deal: gather all the constables and yamen runners who are on leave. Tomorrow, accompany me on an errand. If we succeed, not only will all your back wages be paid, I’ll personally grant you two extra months’ salary. If we fail, I’ll pay one month out of my own pocket. How does that sound?”
“Thank you, Sir!”
“Thank you, Sir!”
The two hurriedly expressed their thanks. Don’t be fooled by their titles—head constable and head yamen runner—but their lives weren’t easy. In other prefectural cities, their positions would let them skim plenty off the top, but here on the frontier, all the profitable businesses were monopolized by Hugh Harris and his cronies. They didn’t get a share at all.
So, their only option was to live off their salaries.
If not for their official posts, they’d have wanted to take leave and work outside too.
That’s why they were so grateful when they heard Ian Song was going to pay their wages.
The next day.
When Ian Song arrived at the yamen with Cindy Li, disguised as a young servant, all the imperial constables and yamen runners were already assembled.
Gavin Grant and Leonard Lewis stepped forward to report, "Sir, all personnel have been gathered. Please give your orders!"
"You know York Manor Fort, right?"
Ian Song looked at them and asked.
"We know it!"
Gavin Grant nodded, though he was a bit hesitant. Was the Vice-Prefect really planning to go collect taxes from the Yorks? After all, word had already spread that Ian Song had gathered the officials yesterday to discuss taxing those entrenched landlord clans.
Many who heard about it scoffed, convinced he would fail.
York Manor Fort was more than twenty li from the prefectural city. Their grain and silver taxes had been overdue since before Bruce Summers took office. In the past, they would at least pay something, but in recent years, they hadn’t handed over a single grain or coin to the court.
So far, the Yorks owed a total of 32,000 catties of grain and over 2,500 taels of silver in back taxes.
"Since you know it, head for York Manor Fort!" Ian Song ordered.
"Yes, Sir!"
The two nodded and began leading the imperial constables and yamen runners at the front. Gavin Grant also brought Ian Song a thin horse.
Ian Song didn’t stand on ceremony. He swung himself onto the horse and asked Cindy Li, "Are you walking, or do you want to ride with me?"
"Thank you for your kindness, Sir!"
To Ian Song’s surprise, Cindy Li nimbly mounted the horse and sat in front of him.
"Let’s move out!"
Ian Song waved his hand.
Soon, the group reached the city gates. After ordering the guards to open the gate, they set off straight for York Manor Fort.
Along the way, the imperial constables and yamen runners whispered among themselves, convinced Ian Song was heading to York Manor Fort for tax collection. They thought this new Vice-Prefect would probably come back empty-handed.
After about an hour’s walk, the group arrived at York Manor Fort.
The walls of the fort stood six or seven meters high, and both massive iron gates were tightly shut.
On the ramparts, York Manor’s private soldiers stood guard, some holding weapons, others carrying bows and arrows.
“Head Constable Grant, go knock on the gate!”
Ian Song instructed.
“Yes, Sir!”
Gavin Grant sighed inwardly, then stepped forward and shouted up, “Vice-Prefect Song is here! York Manor Fort, why aren’t you opening the gate to greet him?”
No one responded. The private soldiers on the wall acted as if they hadn’t heard a thing.
So, Gavin Grant raised his voice and shouted a few more times.
Still, there was no reply.
For a moment, the yamen runners and imperial constables all felt stifled, some even growing resentful toward Ian Song, thinking this new Vice-Prefect was just wasting their time.
"Has York Manor Fort always ignored the yamen like this?" Ian Song asked casually.
"Of course!"
Leonard Lewis replied bitterly, "It’s actually better this time since you’re here, Sir. In the past, not only would they refuse to let us in, they’d even curse us out!"
Ian Song said sternly, "The imperial court forbids anyone but official soldiers from privately owning bows and arrows. Yet the Yorks keep private troops and hoard bows—looks like they’re planning a rebellion!"
Leonard Lewis didn’t dare respond. If word of this reached the Yorks, he’d be in trouble.
"Cindy Li, I’m giving you a chance to earn some merit. Go open the Yorks’ gates!" Ian Song ordered.
"Yes, Sir!"
Under the stunned gaze of Leonard Lewis, Gavin Grant, and all the imperial constables and yamen runners, Cindy Li—still dressed as a servant—leapt from the horse, flashed forward dozens of meters, and landed before the two massive three-meter-tall iron gates.
Bang! Bang!
Cindy Li raised her right palm and struck both iron gates, producing a thunderous noise. With another pair of booming crashes, the two gates collapsed inward, kicking up clouds of dust.
Not only Gavin Grant and Leonard Lewis, but even the private soldiers on the ramparts were stunned. Each iron gate weighed five to six thousand catties—yet a frail servant had knocked them down with two palm strikes. It was simply unbelievable.
"Into the fort!"
Ian Song waved his hand and led the way into York Manor Fort.
Gavin Grant and Leonard Lewis quickly followed, snapping out of their shock.
But as they passed through the gate, dozens of private soldiers charged down from the walls and blocked their way.
These private soldiers were all burly and full of energy—unlike the constables and runners behind Ian Song, who looked pale and gaunt, clearly having missed many good meals.
"Stop! Who let you barge into York Manor Fort?"
One of the York private soldiers barked harshly—he was likely their leader. As he spoke, the group drew their weapons or aimed bows at Ian Song and his party.
"Protect the Vice-Prefect!"
Gavin Grant and Leonard Lewis shouted sharply, and the constables and runners quickly surged forward to shield Ian Song.
"You dare threaten an official with blades? It seems the Yorks really do harbor treasonous intent. Cindy Li, take down these rebels!"
"Understood!"
With a casual wave of her hand, Cindy Li sent dozens of silver needles flying. Each needle struck a private soldier’s acupoint—within moments, all their weapons clattered to the ground, their bodies swayed, and one after another they collapsed in heaps.
"Amazing!"
Seeing this, Gavin Grant and Leonard Lewis couldn’t help rubbing their eyes in disbelief. Both were Martial Masters themselves, but even they weren’t confident facing so many strong private soldiers. Yet Ian Song’s servant had taken them all down in an instant.
"Keep moving forward!"
Ian Song ordered.
"Yes, Sir!"
The constables and runners responded in unison. After witnessing Cindy Li’s skills, they felt much more confident—especially Gavin Grant and Leonard Lewis, who now looked at her with newfound respect. In their eyes, Cindy Li was probably an innate martial artist.
Meanwhile—
On the other side, Harold York, the head of the York clan, had heard that Ian Song was coming to collect taxes, but didn’t take it seriously.
With the fort’s high walls and thick gates, he figured the constables and runners wouldn’t even get inside. Still, since Ian Song was a vice-prefect, he ordered his soldiers not to insult them.
But soon, Harold was shocked by news that the iron gates had been smashed and the gate guards captured by Ian Song’s men.
Quick, go fetch Instructor Victor!
Instructor Victor was the Yorks’ martial instructor, responsible for training their private troops. He was exceptionally strong, having reached the peak of Martial Master level.
Soon, Instructor Victor arrived—a thin man in his thirties, carrying two iron staves on his back.
Let’s go meet this new vice-prefect!
With Instructor Victor present, Harold felt reassured and led the remaining two hundred private soldiers forward.
Soon, the two groups met.
Harold refused to back down, immediately accusing Ian Song as soon as they met.
"Ian Song, as a court official, it’s not right to break into a private residence!"
"I’ve received word that York Manor Fort is harboring rebels—and now I see it’s true!" Ian Song replied calmly.
At this, Harold’s face changed dramatically. The charge of rebellion was far too serious—defying the yamen was one thing, but if labeled a rebel, the army’s five thousand troops would not go easy on him.
He quickly protested, "Vice-Prefect Song, please don’t make wild accusations! There are no rebels in York Manor Fort!"
Ian Song pressed further: "The imperial court forbids civilians from owning bows and arrows—more than three is considered treason. Lord York, the group behind you has at least thirty bows. Isn’t that rebellion?"
Harold’s expression grew even more panicked. "Vice-Prefect Song, we only have bows and arrows to defend against barbarians—we absolutely mean no rebellion!"
"Excuses! If you’re not rebelling, why haven’t you paid your taxes in years?" Ian Song sneered.
Harold was momentarily speechless, but quickly recovered. "If you want to accuse us, you’ll always find a reason. Vice-Prefect Song, we’re not so easily bullied—don’t think I won’t go to the prefect to file a complaint against you!"
Heh.
Ian Song only smiled and said, "I’ll give you one chance—hand over the back taxes now, and I won’t make things difficult. Otherwise, don’t blame me for executing you rebels first and reporting later!"
...?
Ian Song only smiled and said, "I’ll give you one chance—hand over the back taxes now, and I won’t make things difficult. Otherwise, don’t blame me for executing you rebels first and reporting later!"
Ian Song only smiled and said, "I’ll give you one chance—hand over the back taxes now, and I won’t make things difficult. Otherwise, don’t blame me for executing you rebels first and reporting later!"