1.1 The Salt Inspector's Office

Volume One
1.1 Salt Patrol Censorate Office

The seventh year of Jing’an in the Great Zhou Dynasty, Yangzhou.

It was the time of "late spring in March, when the southern riverside grasses grow long." As the warm spring sun gradually bathed the earth, the lingering snow, overly diligent in its duty, finally melted away. The green shoots, suppressed by the harsh winter for months, could no longer contain their eagerness and stealthily reclaimed their rightful domain.

In the city center stood an evidently worn government office, its only striking feature being the bright main gate facing south. It towered beside a wide, open street, flanked by two guards each wielding a water-and-fire baton, standing tall and proud, exuding an aura of valor.

Yet, despite this imposing presence, the gate was deserted, lacking even a single figure, somewhat spoiling the scene.

After all, who would come to such an office without purpose?

Thus, the courtyard remained quiet.

Inside the east side hall of the main courtyard, a modest banquet was already arranged: four simple dishes, a pot of aged wine, and two men—one old, one young—seated. Their conversation seemed too sensitive for servants to overhear, so none were present.

“Lord Lin, I truly cannot understand why you are so determined about matters concerning the Salt Patrol Censorate Office,” the elder said bitterly, downing his cup in one go. “The whole of Yangzhou knows you hail from a collateral branch of the Lin family of Suzhou.

So what? You must know well how strained the relationship is between Lin Ruhai and the main Lin clan. He has held this position here for many years, yet except for you, no Lin family member has sought refuge here. Why bother so much?

I recall—from when you took charge of the salt laborers until now, barely two years—you have confiscated countless family assets. Surely not fewer than five families? Lin Ruhai made great contributions, then simply dusted off his hands and returned to the capital, leaving all matters behind.

But you, Lin Rui, a donated official, even if assisted by him, do you intend to follow the same path? We both know he is the emperor’s trusted confidant. What are you in comparison? Once he leaves this tumultuous Jiangnan, how do you plan to end this?”

Opposite him, across the small table, sat a handsome young man. Clad in a fitting cyan official robe, his square-jawed face was sharp and clear-eyed. Towering over eight feet tall, even sitting, he was as upright and majestic as a pine tree, leaving a lasting impression.

This was, of course, the “Lin Rui” the elder had mentioned.

“Thank you for your concern, Master He. I have my own considerations,” Lin Rui said lightly, dismissing the elder’s warnings and ignoring the mention of his collateral lineage. “Over the past two years, you have thrown one slander after another at me—from ‘The Living Qin Qiong’ to ‘The Tiger Cleaning the Streets’—at least a dozen nicknames, correct?

The salt laborers belong to the Salt Patrol Censorate; what must be done is my decision. You said fewer families suffered from confiscation—actually, in these two years, I have seized eight small salt merchants. Your He family is the ninth, and certainly not the last.”

The expression of Master He stiffened noticeably.

“Since you know this, Lord Lin, why not spare our He family?” he persisted. “Salt tax matters are not settled in a day. Besides, last year we already paid two million taels, a debt to the imperial grace. It’s only the beginning of the year now. I can raise the funds…”

“Why didn’t you do it earlier?” Lin Rui cut him off with disdain. “Two million taels? As a native of Yangzhou, you must know how vast the salt trade is. Such a big business pays so little silver? Are you trying to send beggars off?

The Great Zhou was founded in the south. During the reign of the founding emperor, salt tax revenue reached over three million taels. Don’t forget, the capital was then at Jinling; beyond the Yangtze was no longer their territory, far less than now.

Today, the empire’s land and population have multiplied fivefold. Logically, salt consumption should be at least three or four times more, yet the salt tax revenue has decreased rather than increased. Master He, care to explain? Such a large sum of silver cannot have sprouted legs and walked away, can it?”

“Still, it’s not the fault of the He family!” the elder’s composure broke entirely. “From Jiangnan to the entire realm, even a child knows the ‘Eight Great Salt Merchants.’ Lord Lin, you do not deal with them—”

“The relationships of those eight are too strong; they cannot be handled,” Lin Rui said bluntly. “Just one of them can pull strings up to a deputy minister. Even if you are the emperor’s trusted confidant, you cannot withstand such forces.”

“Must the He family be destroyed then?” The elder stood abruptly, slamming his cup down in anger.

“Not necessarily,” Lin Rui’s expression turned icy. “Or to put it plainly, have any of your salt merchant families been wrongfully executed? I have confiscated many small fry families. Whenever they were sent to the execution ground, the watching crowd applauded.

Try to refute that.”

The elder opened his mouth but could not find a word to reply.

Who among the salt merchants does not deserve death?

Ha!

No need to step outside; the He family alone bears the weight of hundreds of lives, having eradicated several entire clans!

“Enough. I called you here to avoid unnecessary trouble.” Seeing the elder had nothing more to say, Lin Rui lost interest in prolonging the conversation. “Tell me honestly about your family’s silver and accounts. I will decide to spare your bodies intact.”

“That’s impossible—” Master He still clung to hope.

“Impossible. Not a single member of the He estate will be spared,” Lin Rui said firmly but then offered a glimmer of mercy that brightened the elder’s face. “According to regulations, your entire family would face beheading and public disposal. I can grant you a dignified burial so it won’t be too shameful.

Here’s the deal: any head of the He family, whether legitimate or not, will receive a simple coffin, buried in a quiet place. The execution ground will suffice with your servants and slaves. Satisfactory?”

“Much obliged!” Master He sighed deeply and rose. “Please find a trustworthy subordinate. I will confess everything. I have heard of Lord Lin’s chivalry—your words are like nails hammered in with every spit. I can only thank you from the afterlife for leaving a seed for the He family!”

“Send someone in!” Lin Rui nodded, beckoning his men. “Give Master He some peace!”

“Rest assured, sir!” The guards waiting in the courtyard bowed quickly.

The elder left with a bitter expression.

“Lord Lin, aren’t you curious why we suddenly investigated the He family this time?” Just as he was about to exit, he turned back with a strange smile. “For example, those pieces of evidence?”

“How long have your families been scheming against each other?” Lin Rui’s face darkened.

“Just scheming?” The elder sneered. “We lost this time, I admit it. But don’t think our silver is so easy to take. If you want to die with no clear cause, you’d better keep searching!”

“You know?” Lin Rui was uneasy.

“Not entirely, just unwilling to accept it,” the elder said helplessly and left.

After seeing them off to the gatehouse, Lin Rui breathed a long sigh.

At least, this matter was temporarily settled.

He did not linger but strode swiftly toward the innermost chamber of the main hall.

Upon entering, he saw a textbook example of a middle-aged gentleman sitting solemnly in the main seat. His skin was fair with a slight beard, expression calm, dressed in a cyan scholar’s robe. Holding a scroll in his right hand, his left hand gently tapped the table, evidently engrossed in reading.

This was Lin Ruhai, the current Two-Huai Salt Patrol Censor.

“Finished?” Lin Ruhai smiled, closing the scroll and laying it on the table.

The cover bore the prominent title: “Wen Xin Diao Long” (The Literary Mind and the Carving of Dragons).

“Uncle Lin, rest assured!” Lin Rui greeted casually with a slight bow.

“When you handle things, what is there to worry about?” Lin Ruhai sighed softly. “Speaking of the He family, they were respectful in daily life and did much good among the townsfolk—building bridges, helping the poor and widowed. But alas, they disregarded the law, which is truly detestable!”

“What’s more regrettable is that the He family is but a small fry. The real big fish remain uncaught.” Lin Rui, understanding his uncle’s ambitions, replied smoothly, “But as the saying goes, ‘Three feet of ice does not form in a single day.’ Resolving this won’t happen in a few days. We shall see what the future holds.”

“Very well.” Lin Ruhai nodded and stood. “Since the He family has confessed, you must handle the rest carefully. Leave no loose ends. Nearly everyone with influence in Yangzhou has submitted petitions; this must be dealt with swiftly!”

“You worry too much, Uncle Lin. I will not leave myself any loose ends!” Lin Rui had long planned everything.

“That’s good to hear.” Lin Ruhai nodded with satisfaction. “I have a literary gathering at noon and won’t return this afternoon. Come to my residence tonight. From the start of the year until now, you’ve worked hard. Now that things are settled, we’ll have a family meal. No need to be distant.”

“If Uncle Lin invites, how can I refuse?” Lin Rui smiled.

Only then did Lin Ruhai leave with peace of mind.

Lin Rui escorted him to the office gate, watching his figure disappear into the southwest alley corner.

“Master!” A subordinate’s voice came from behind him just as he was lost in thought.

“Lin Zhao, is everything settled?” Lin Rui did not turn around.

“That old fellow confessed quite frankly. I expect this will be a fruitful harvest!” The subordinate’s face was full of excitement. “These salt merchants truly deserve death. The He family isn’t even among the largest in Yangzhou, probably only mid-tier. Yet their confession amounts to nearly three million taels!”

“Handle it according to the usual rules.” Lin Rui asked no further. “Also, you heard the conditions I promised. Arrange everything accordingly. It’s not worth making a mess. Remind the men under you that rewards are necessary—don’t make things difficult for me!”

“Rest assured, sir. I’ll make sure no one dares be careless!” Lin Zhao’s face turned pale. “There’s one more thing. I heard the old man is old but not cold-hearted. He has a long-time mistress kept outside, rumored to have been with him for over ten years, possibly with illegitimate offspring. Should we—”

“Don’t be too ruthless. Such rumors circulate only within the circle and might save us some unnecessary trouble.” Lin Rui shook his head. “The He family deserves death, but which salt merchant doesn’t? As the saying goes, ‘Birds of a feather flock together.’ If we push them too hard, it won’t benefit us.”

“Understood, sir!” Lin Zhao nodded quickly.

“What about the He family members?” Lin Rui asked no further.

“Lin Yu is escorting them to the prison. No escape.”

“Spread the news of the He family’s fate. If it intimidates others, all the better. If not, so be it. That’s the message.” Lin Rui nodded. “Make sure all the silver is accounted for and submitted. How will Lord Lin handle the explanation?”

“Sir, you jest. This isn’t my first time at this.” Lin Zhao bowed his head quickly.

“Good.” Lin Rui asked a few more questions, then waved him off. “Go.”

Though he knew Lin Rui didn’t care much, Lin Zhao still bowed deeply and slowly retreated outside.

After he left, Lin Rui said no more. He signaled to close the door and turned toward the inner courtyard.