Chapter Seventy-Two: No Longer Timid

That very day, the villagers erected a mourning hall for Chief Li. The entire village, men, women, young and old alike, donned mourning clothes, and the whole community paid their respects. This was an honor reserved for the village chief alone—a unanimous affirmation of Chief Li’s character and a heartfelt remembrance of all his years of service.

Kneeling before the mourning hall, Gou Ye glanced at Yun Niang beside him, tears of guilt streaming down his face. “Yun Niang, it’s all my fault. I brought disaster upon the village. I caused the chief to die unjustly. It’s all me, all my fault.”

Yun Niang, heart aching, wiped Gou Ye’s tears and comforted him, “Brother Gou Ye, it’s not your fault, truly not. You helped the village prosper out of kindness. You led everyone to set up stalls, and indeed, you gave people hope. Today, everyone refused to hand over their tools not just to protect their possessions, but to safeguard their hope. I may not understand much, but I know you’ve always been good to the villagers. I believe none of them blame you, and if Grandpa Li were still alive, he wouldn’t blame you either. None of this was your intention—it’s all because of that vile Magistrate Qin and his wife. They are the true culprits, the murderers.”

“That’s right, Brother Gou Ye, everyone knows your character. Whenever my father spoke of you, it was always in praise, never a word of complaint. My father’s tragic death is entirely due to the county office’s brutality, not your doing,” the chief’s son walked over to Gou Ye and consoled him.

Raising his head, Gou Ye swept away his dejected expression and slowly dried his tears. Looking at Chief Li’s coffin, his heart burned with rage and remorse—rage at Magistrate Qin and his wife’s coercion, remorse for his own weakness. He realized he could have fought back, but his constant retreat had given them the opportunity to press their advantage.

Gou Ye had thought that withdrawing from the village would bring peace, that stepping away from the turmoil would allow him to start anew. Yet, instead of calming the storm, his retreat had harmed innocent people. The thought brought back memories of Yun Niang’s father, wealthy beyond measure yet powerless to protect those around him, ultimately meeting his own helpless end. In this age, where agriculture is prioritized and commerce suppressed, business could only serve as a foundation; true strength was the cornerstone. Only with power could one protect those close.

From that moment on, Gou Ye’s temperament underwent a great transformation. He no longer wished merely to be a wealthy landlord—he wanted authority, the power to protect his loved ones, the right to speak in a chaotic world. Gou Ye silently vowed: never again would he retreat in the face of adversity. He would become someone who no longer cowered, who fought even if it meant shedding blood. For those around him, he would create the safest possible haven.

Today, it was Chief Li; tomorrow, it could be Yun Niang. Gou Ye could not accept such a fate. In his mind, he began to plot a counterattack against Magistrate Qin and his wife, gazing coldly at the sky and letting out a bitter laugh.

Meanwhile, in the county magistrate’s residence, a sharp “crack” rang out as Magistrate Qin slapped the lead bailiff’s face. “Fool! I only told you to seize their tools. When did I order you to kill? In broad daylight, you committed violence—do you realize the enormity of your crime? How am I to face the people of the county when word of this spreads?” Magistrate Qin, furious, struck the man again before sitting down and glaring at him.

Zhu Ling, too, frowned deeply. She hadn’t expected events to spiral so far. Her plan had been to reclaim the tools, then negotiate with the villagers, establish official stalls funded by the government, and bring them into the system. But now, all plans had turned to smoke. Most crucially, as Magistrate Qin pointed out, the impact could be disastrous—his reputation and safety might both be at risk.

Zhu Ling shot a cold glance at the trembling bailiff. “This matter can be huge or trivial. If it’s huge, Magistrate Qin’s position is at risk; if it’s trivial, it’s merely an accident. Now, tell me—which do you prefer?”

The bailiff dropped to his knees. “Madam, I know my mistake. I am willing to make this a small matter for your sake, no matter what I must do.”

“Good, but your words aren’t enough. I need something from you—only with it can I calm the people’s anger and halt the situation.”

“What is it, Madam?” the bailiff asked, voice shaking.

Zhu Ling walked up to him, lifted his chin, and replied coldly, “Your head.” She clapped her hands, and a group of men stormed in from outside.

“Have mercy, Madam, have mercy, Sir! I know my mistake, I’ll never dare again. It was only because those stubborn villagers resisted—I never thought things would turn out this way!” The bailiff knocked his head on the floor again and again, begging for mercy.

Zhu Ling ignored him, ordering the men to imprison him. Tomorrow at noon, he would be executed in public. Hearing this, Magistrate Qin was stunned by Zhu Ling’s ruthlessness, but soon realized it was the best solution. He waved for them to take the bailiff away.

The next day at noon, just as Zhu Ling had said, the bailiff was beheaded in public. The charge was read three times: he had disobeyed county orders, led men to Tumen Village to seize property, clashed with villagers, and caused a death. Magistrate Qin was administering justice, enforcing the law, and making the bailiff pay with his life.

This maneuver won Magistrate Qin much praise in the county. People said he was fair and impartial, refusing to shield his own men, and punishing them mercilessly for their crimes. For a time, Magistrate Qin was regarded as a rare, upright official.

Meanwhile, Chief Li, who had died unjustly, was already buried. The villagers mourned his passing, their grief deepened by the county office’s brutality. At this point, they had not yet learned of Magistrate Qin and Zhu Ling’s actions. Should they find out, who knows how they would feel? Would they, like the townspeople, believe Magistrate Qin was a just and noble official?