Chapter 1871 - Out with the Old, In with the New (Part 7)

A new official brings three fires. In less than half a year since taking office, Great Song's Prefect Liu had made sweeping moves. These past months—collecting refugees, purging the bureaucracy, establishing the police force, restructuring commerce—none of it appeared connected to beggars on the surface. Yet each measure had drawn another loop of rope around the Guandi Temple faction, binding them motionless while severing their revenue streams.

Watching his brothers grumble and demand he "do something," Gao Lingxiang found himself at a loss. Never mind himself—even when his father had been alive, there had been no countermeasure. Otherwise, why would the old man have gotten entangled in that sorcery case?

After much deliberation, Gao Lingxiang decided to first investigate the academy situation. He summoned a maid: "Fetch Han Changle."

Han Changle was a guard his father Gao Tianshi had kept—though he performed no night patrols or watch duties. He served more as a military strategist among the household staff.

Han Changle had once been a government soldier. During Wang Zunde's expedition against the Australians years ago, he had served as a minor officer. In the fierce fighting, the counterattacking Fubo Army had driven a bayonet through his calf, leaving him permanently disabled.

Because of his leg injury, the Australians hadn't kept him for road-building labor to redeem himself. After treating his wound, they had simply released him.

Han Changle had hobbled along, begging all the way, barely making it back to Guangzhou. Though he had once been a military officer, it was only a minor rank. With a lame leg, there was naturally no possibility of soldiering again. He had spent half his life in the army; apart from physical strength, he possessed no skills to make a living and had saved little money. Fortunately, he was a bachelor, so he simply drifted into the Guandi Temple faction.

One of the faction's major businesses was providing muscle for clans, gentry, and wealthy households—especially for inter-clan feuds in the countryside. Though lame, Han Changle was battle-hardened. After several operations, he distinguished himself and earned a reputation as a "strategist" within the faction. Gao Tianshi had recruited him directly to his side.

Before long, Han Changle walked over. He was not tall, dressed in short work clothes. For the cool air, both forearms were bare, veins standing out. Only when he moved could one clearly see his leg was impaired.

"Go into the city and look around, see what's happening." Gao Lingxiang said, then added a few whispered instructions. Han Changle nodded slightly: "Understood."

"Be careful. We have no backing now." Gao Lingxiang exhaled heavily.

Han Changle entered the city and made a circuit in the blazing sun, particularly visiting the various dens. Since the Australians had entered the city and begun collecting vagrants, even street beggars had been more or less rounded up. Strong-arm begging now required only a shop owner's call for patrolmen to intervene—light cases earned a beating with truncheons and were chased off; serious cases were taken into custody and never emerged again.

The streets had grown much cleaner. Citizens applauded. But the dens were all shrouded in gloom. The dagu didn't dare provoke the Australians. When they saw Han Changle, they had no friendly words—only demands to know what plan the Chief had.

"If this keeps up, we brothers will really be drinking the northwest wind."

More than one dagu said this to him. Some responded lazily with a few noncommittal words, neither admitting things were good nor bad. Han Changle noted everything in his heart, gave brief replies, and moved on.

He spent most of the day on this circuit. As dusk fell, he decided not to return to Golden Flower Temple outside the city—he had a sworn brother who worked as a gatekeeper at Wenlan Academy. He planned to spend the night at this brother's home and investigate the academy situation at the same time.

He was just leaving the den outside Youlangkou when he spotted a group standing by the street ahead. Several black-clad officers in round caps with cloth wrappings on their calves were gathered around an Australian woman.

The woman wore a uniform of the same black, with a flat round brimless cap on her head and a pleated black skirt below—barely past her knees. Black boots accentuated her figure, making her legs look long and shapely.

The crowd wore expressions of spectators. Han Changle had heard that among the Australians sent to Guangzhou, there was a female official in charge of catching criminals and handling lawsuits—one with great authority. Could this be her? He saw people whispering behind her, but fearing the fierce-looking officers, they only dared watch from a distance.

The female official stood among the men, holding a small black notebook, pointing here and there. Occasionally she exchanged a few words with those around her, then walked forward a bit more. Her purpose was unclear.

Han Changle stood watching the spectacle when he suddenly noticed that one man beside the female official looked familiar. That person also wore a black uniform but with two pockets on his chest and copper bars gleaming on shoulder patches. He stood slightly ahead of the other attendants, close behind the female official. Han Changle took two quick steps forward. "No mistake—it's him."

Lu Dagang had served with him back when they were both under General Wang Daoji's banner. He and Han Changle had stirred the same iron pot and ladled the same gruel—they were comrades-in-arms. In terms of kinship, they could even count as cousins by marriage. When the government forces suffered their great defeat on Hainan, only a few thousand out of over twenty thousand escaped. Han Changle had been wounded and captured—lucky to keep his life. Lu Dagang, by all accounts, had not been so fortunate. Some returnees swore they'd seen Lu Dagang blown to pieces by Australian cannons; others said he'd drowned while fleeing; still others said he'd been captured and sent to a labor brigade, and that "once you enter the Australian gates, the sea is never so deep"—those in labor brigades faced nine deaths for every life, with no chance of survival. At the time, Guangzhou city was in chaos; officials could barely save themselves, let alone care about common soldiers. Han Changle had never imagined that Lu Dagang had not only survived but had defected to the Australians and now seemed to be in their good graces.

A rare old acquaintance! Han Changle thought. If he could reconnect, he could at least get some information from him. Their greatest difficulty now was not knowing what the Australians were thinking.

He was about to slowly follow along when a middle-aged woman suddenly burst out of an alley by the roadside. She rushed into the middle of the road, raised both hands high holding a document protector, dropped to her knees, and shrieked:

"Great Lord of the Blue Sky! Please give me justice! Injustice!"

Mu Min was startled by this sudden scene. She had come specifically today to inspect the progress of the vice industry rectification. The rectification was reaching its climax; work teams had been stationed in all the large and small brothels and pleasure houses for audits. However, recent reports indicated that a number of prostitutes from hereditary entertainer families, taking advantage of the closures, had rented properties on streets like Youlangmen Outer Street—former red-light districts—and were secretly soliciting clients. The atmosphere had turned foul, and neighbors and merchants had complaints. Mu Min had come for an on-site inspection.

In her attire and with police escorts around her, when she walked the streets, she didn't need gongs and drums to clear the way—pedestrians all kept their distance. She had never expected someone to suddenly leap out and cry injustice.

Blocking sedans to plead grievances—this was Mu Min's first encounter with it. Liu Xiang and Lin Baiguang had experienced it several times. In the common people's minds, only local officials could redress wrongs; going to runners and constables was useless.

Two special agents from the Element Protection Bureau immediately blocked in front of her. Mu Min shook her head, signaling them not to be nervous. She asked: "What's the matter?"

A policeman quickly reported: "She says she's here to cry injustice and file a complaint. Some tremendous wrong to report."

"This isn't a judicial institution. If she has a case, tell her to go to the court..."

The policeman quickly went over, then returned shortly: "Chief! This woman says it's an old murder case..."

"Murder case?" Mu Min found this strange. But since it was a murder case, it naturally fell under police jurisdiction. She ordered: "Take her back to headquarters first."

Mu Min finished her inspection, then spoke with the local precinct chief for a while. Past seven o'clock, she finally returned to headquarters. Eating dinner while handling paperwork, she had completely forgotten about the woman who had filed the complaint. Only when her documents were mostly processed did she stretch. Just then, she noticed a policeman who had accompanied her inspection that afternoon standing at her office doorway, peering in.

"What is it?" Mu Min vaguely recalled he was from the old yamen's patrol squad, a "commoner" without proper rank who had been newly added after the sorcery case.

Because such people retained old yamen habits, Mu Min didn't much like them. Seeing him skulking at her office door only irritated her further.

The policeman was startled and quickly entered, performing an awkward quasi-salute at attention. "I—I just wanted to ask, Chief—that woman who blocked the sedan this afternoon..."

Mu Min suddenly remembered. She glanced at her watch—nearly 9 PM. "What? Still haven't taken her statement? Since she's filing a report, have the detectives take her testimony."

But the policeman wouldn't leave. Instead, he took a step forward and said pleadingly: "Chief! This case has been dragging on for more than ten years... There are circumstances that couldn't be helped... I'm bold to ask—could the Chief personally hear it..."

This piqued Mu Min's curiosity. For this policeman to make such a request, there must be some difficulty requiring her personal attention.

She paused, then suddenly asked: "What's your name?"

"I'm... my... name is Bi Defan." The policeman hadn't expected this sudden question.

"Tell me—how much did you take from her?"

Bi Defan started, hastily protesting: "Chief! She's as bitter as someone soaked in coptis water. How would I dare take anything from her! May I be struck by five thunderbolts!"

"Then why are you so eager to help?" Mu Min smiled faintly. "The one who guided her to 'block the sedan and cry injustice' today—that was probably you, wasn't it?"

Bi Defan's eyes flickered sharply. "Chief is brilliant! To be honest, this woman is a distant relative of mine. I know something of the details of this case. It involves prominent figures and bigwigs in the city. In the past, not a single yamen was willing to take it on. She had given up, preferring to die with her grievance untold rather than file a complaint. Now that it's become Great Song's realm and the world is just, she's finally moved to pursue her case. If it can be redressed, it would clear the dead man's name..." As he spoke, his eyes reddened, nearly spilling tears.

(End of Chapter)