Fifty strokes of the heavy paddle.

Can a fool become an official? Certainly. Can a fool become a high-ranking official? That is not entirely impossible. But can a fool become a regional governor—a potentate of a province? That is absolutely impossible.

A Governor of a Province holds the rank of Junior Second Grade. Above them are only the Three Excellencies of the First Grade and the Junior Three Excellencies of the Second Grade. A grand chancellor of the imperial court holds the same rank of Junior Second Grade. One can imagine how significant such a governor is; in the presence of such a man, Xia Lin dared not speak nonsense or spout gibberish.

Yet, he was not afraid. He was serving as a township magistrate by imperial decree—and is not the Crown Prince’s authority also royal authority? Therefore, even if the heavens were to collapse, he had to secure those funds today.

Governor Guo summoned Xia Lin to his study, but he did not rush to question him. Instead, he began tidying his desk, then had a servant bring him some food. He proceeded to eat while reviewing the scrolls on his table, leaving Xia Lin standing there, utterly ignored.

What could one do in such a situation? One could only wait. This was no ordinary official; this was a true regional governor, a figure far above the status of a provincial inspector. In the capital, such a person would be a chancellor; in the provinces, they are warlords. Most people, upon encountering someone of this stature, would be lucky if their knees were not knocking together out of pure terror.

Xia Lin, however, did the opposite. He found a place to sit, picked up a copy of the "Spring and Autumn Annals" lying nearby, and began to read.

"Hm?" Governor Guo glanced at Xia Lin, surprised. However, he possessed enough composure to say nothing, simply returning his focus to the official documents on his desk.

After about an hour, the Governor finished his initial tasks. He let out a long sigh, stretched, and looked with newfound interest at Xia Lin, who had been lost in his own thoughts for some time.

"Do you know the penalty for a subordinate defying a superior?"

"I do. Fifty strokes of the cane and three years’ forfeiture of salary," Xia Lin replied instantly. "I have long since memorized the Great Wei Code."

"Heh, you rascal." Governor Guo was amused. "Then tell me, should I have you beaten or not?"

Xia Lin raised an eyebrow and smiled. "In terms of sentiment, reason, and law, I deserve the beating. But this is a beating you cannot afford to give."

Governor Guo stood up and paced the room with his hands behind his back. "Why? Give me a reason, or I shall punish you severely."

"In sentiment, I mocked the imperial office. In reason, I acted blindly. In law, I defied my superior. Any one of these would justify a beating. But you cannot strike me because I am pleading on behalf of the people. If you strike me, you diminish your own prestige while adding to my reputation. In the end, I would be using you, which is inappropriate. After all, I came here for money, not fame. When the day comes that I seek fame, you may beat me then."

Hearing this, Governor Guo was so caught off guard he almost laughed aloud. "How are you so slippery, like a little loach?"

"I have no choice; the world is a dangerous place."

"Very well. Let me hear what method you have that satisfies appearances, preserves substance, and secures the silver."

Xia Lin had a plan ready. "That is easy. You wave your hand to approve my funds and pardon my crime."

"But that ignores sentiment, reason, and law," the Governor laughed. "Is that your solution?"

"Hear me out," Xia Lin said, sitting down again. "You pardon the crime and approve the funds—that is your benevolence and concern for the people. But I shall refuse the pardon. I will take the money, for it is meant for the well-being of the villagers, but I will not accept the remission of my punishment. Not only that, I want you to have me beaten publicly in the most conspicuous place to demonstrate that the law shows no favor. In this way, I get the money, you get the credit for benevolence, and the rule of law is upheld. Do we not have face, substance, and silver all at once? Coincidentally, many scholars are gathered here. When word spreads, everyone will say Governor Guo is a benevolent ruler and his petty officials are law-abiding."

"Hahahaha! How old are you?" Governor Guo asked, curious. "You do not look very old."

"I will be seventeen after the start of autumn."

"A township magistrate at seventeen? How much did you pay for the position?"

Xia Lin scratched his head. "I didn't spend any money. I just boasted a bit before the Prince of Qin’s heir and made a three-year bet with him..."

This was a clever answer. He did not know if the Governor was an ally of the young prince. If he declared himself a follower of the prince and their political views clashed, he would be persecuted. By phrasing it this way, it remained ambiguous—everyone knew the young prince was playful, and making bets was normal. If the Governor disliked the prince, he would not risk a public clash with the royal faction over someone whose allegiance was unclear, especially with the Prince of Teng in the region—everyone knew the Emperor, the Prince of Qin, and the Prince of Teng were of one mind. If the Governor *was* an ally, this mention would certainly not cause trouble.

Governor Guo looked Xia Lin up and down. Although they had just met, he found himself liking the boy more and more. It was hard to define why—perhaps it was the spark of intelligence he possessed, so different from ordinary scholars, or perhaps he reminded the Governor of his own youth.

"Since you said so, I will deliver those fifty strokes."

Xia Lin pursed his lips and nodded. "Strike... but strike lightly. I am afraid of pain."

"Hahahaha... you rascal," Governor Guo shook his head. "Oh, right. Why do you need the silver? To build workshops? Repair the docks?"

"Exactly!"

This was the question Xia Lin had been working toward. All this effort was to make these powerful figures interested in this seventeen-hundred-tael deal.

He pulled a map of Xinping Township from his robe and spread it out before the Governor, beginning to explain his plans and ideas.

Governor Guo did not care about the money—a thousand or two was a trivial matter. But the moment the map appeared, his eyes lit up. Although not a military man, he oversaw provincial defense. Military maps were state secrets, yet this boy’s map was more detailed and beautiful than any he had seen. Even with the complex lines, one could tell at a glance what was where, and it was marked with precise directional indicators.

"What are these curved lines?"

Xia Lin was momentarily stunned by the interruption. "Mountains. Large circles represent ranges, small circles represent peaks; the smaller the circle, the higher the mountain."

"Excellent, truly excellent," Governor Guo nodded. "And these solid and dashed lines?"

"Solid lines represent existing roads; dashed lines are planned routes. Future development must follow the roads and avoid the dashed lines. In these hilly areas, construction must follow the river to facilitate water transport. This thick line is the trade route, designed to accommodate large caravans."

"How was this map drawn?"

"My brother and I measured every corner of Xinping Township ourselves."

"How did you measure with such precision?"

Xia Lin scratched his cheek and began to explain the triangular surveying method and the concept of a scale bar.

"You also study the investigation of things?"

"I know a little... enough to be useful."

Governor Guo looked from the map to Xia Lin, saying nothing more, but quietly noting this interesting young man in his heart.

Yet, despite his interest, Xia Lin could not escape the beating—and it had to be done publicly, with his crimes announced to all. When Xia Lin was taken to the town square, the scene was much like the end of "The True Story of Ah Q," with curious onlookers everywhere. He, however, felt a surge of heroic spirit.

Gossip travels fast. By the morning he was writing his protest at the government office, by afternoon, the story of a youth defying power to petition for the people had spread to every corner.

"Little sister, come quickly, there is a show to watch!"

The second heir of the Prince of Teng dashed into the courtyard, shouting. A beautiful girl hurried out, asking excitedly, "What happened?"

"A township magistrate is at the government office gate, beating the drum and scolding the officials. It’s quite intense! He even wrote an essay mocking those tiger-like officials. Now he’s being paraded through the streets and is about to be publicly flogged."

"Let’s go!" The young princess lifted her skirt and rushed out.

"Wait for me, little sister! Ouch... don’t run so fast!"

When they arrived, Xia Lin was already lying on the platform. The executioner was reading his crimes. When the crowd heard he had come to secure two thousand taels to build workshops and docks for the people, a wave of murmurs arose from the spectators.

The young princess and the prince’s second heir squeezed through the crowd. The princess, being small, had a hard time. The prince laughed, "This fellow must be an idiot. What’s the point of pleading for those paupers? That they are allowed to live at all is already a grace."

The princess rolled her eyes but didn't bother arguing with her pig-headed brother. If their eldest brother found out, he would surely be slapped.

She stood on tiptoes and peered at the execution platform, catching sight of Xia Lin's face. She gasped in shock, "It’s him!"