Chapter 2507: Burning the Tower (20)

Xue Tu's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Why does Daoist Wooden Stone raise the morale of the Kun thieves while dampening our own?"

Wooden Stone regarded him with cool indifference. "Does Brother Xue truly believe he sees the situation clearly? You fail to understand that straddling two boats sometimes offers room to maneuver—but other times leads to being trusted by neither side, leaving you to drown between them. And sometimes, even after boarding a boat, a bamboo pole knocks you into the water. The key isn't which boat you step onto. It's whether you've paid for your seat."

Having said his piece, the Daoist returned to his chair, poured himself a cup, and took a slow sip of wine before catching Yun Ting's eye with a subtle glance.

Yun Ting produced a stack of papers from inside his robe and extended them. "Brother Xue, please examine this first."

Xue Tu accepted them warily. It was a document, handwritten in vigorous Yan-style regular script. Following Australian conventions, the text ran horizontally from left to right with punctuation between sentences. The title at the top announced in bold characters: "Guangdong Key Bandit Intelligence Notification."

The title alone made Xue Tu's heart lurch. He steadied himself and began reading carefully:

"During the transitional period following the recovery of Guangdong, the collapse of grassroots political power and government armed forces in certain areas has allowed local armed factions to proliferate. These groups have seized hilltops, fortified villages, raised private armies, and recruited malcontents to form gangs. They bully the common people, burn, kill, and plunder at will. Certain usurping Ming gentry have united with these illegal armed elements, establishing rural networks to spread rumors, organize riots, and commit arson—serving as strategic collaborators for a potential future counterattack by the usurping Ming government. These landlord and bandit forces have become a tumor that must be excised from our Australian Song regime. The Senate has therefore resolved to adjust strategic deployments within Guangdong, slowing expansion to consolidate our gains. We shall maintain high-pressure postures at key strategic nodes to deter the usurping Ming puppet army, while simultaneously turning our spear inward against internal hostile elements. The Senate proposes the strategic guideline of 'Consolidating the Core, Basing on Key Points.' In areas distant from main traffic routes and towns, we shall establish strong base points supported by core territories. Through these bases, we will radiate outward, enabling newly esta..."

The further Xue Tu read, the more alarmed he became. When he turned to the final two pages, he noticed the paper had changed to Australian stock, the font to Imitation Song, and the printing to the Australians' distinctive mimeograph technique. The round red seal at the bottom was unmistakably Australian in style—impossible to forge. He raised questioning eyes to Wooden Stone.

The Daoist nodded gravely. "Correct. Those two pages are originals. Unfortunately, obtaining them cost Second Brother Yun his hidden contact within the Kun government. Such classified documents will be beyond our reach from now on." He sighed and shook his head, his regret seemingly genuine.

Xue Tu forced his attention back to the document, compelling himself to remain calm. But the more he read, the more dread crept through him. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, his hands trembling so that the papers rustled in his grip. Drops of perspiration fell onto the pages. When he reached the section titled "Targets of Major Social Harm Requiring Priority Elimination: Representative Bandit Leaders and Feudal Daoist Sect Heads," his own name stared back at him.

His heart seized. Suppressing his rising panic, he set down the document and forced an even tone. "The Kun thieves have long harbored rebellious intentions. Since I count them as enemies, this was well within my expectations. It means nothing."

Wooden Stone's smile returned. "Brother Xue no doubt still clings to a shred of false hope—imagining he might preserve his life and property. But you fail to understand: submission to the Imperial Court is one thing. Submit to the Kun thieves, and your death arrives immediately."

Xue Tu's head snapped up, his gaze fixed on Wooden Stone. "I hope the Daoist will enlighten me."

"Consider Liu Xiang's fate after submitting to the Kun," Wooden Stone said. "Once, hundreds answered his single call. Now he lives under another's roof, scolded at their pleasure. His foundation was the sea, not the land—and the Australians have stripped him of everything. They confiscated his ships, scattered his crews, and absorbed them into their shipping company. He barely preserved the status of a wealthy man, yet endures constant surveillance, not daring to make the slightest move. The Australians refuse him any external assignments, confining him to that tiny patch of Lingao, sitting idle beneath an oppressive sky. And this was a regional power who once commanded tens of thousands of men and ships." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "If Brother Xue wishes to submit to the Kun, what power do you actually possess? Even if you gather all your Daoist sects together, is your strength truly so formidable? Do you have the capital to negotiate with them?"

Wooden Stone pressed on. "Liu Xiang managed to retain a small stake in the shipping company—something to rely on. He also knew maritime trade routes and could serve as an advisor. The Kun people arrived by sea; they value such expertise. Liu Xiang understood his circumstances, and so he was preserved." The Daoist's tone sharpened. "Brother Xue, do not imagine that because you play king and tyrant across these three mountains and five strongholds, you can rest content. Examine yourself honestly. Weigh your worth. Do you carry the same weight as Liu Xiang? If you submit to the Kun, what would you gain? I have observed your past conduct, Brother Xue. I know you are a man of ambition who would never willingly serve beneath another. Submission would not be about personal safety—it would be about bringing honor to your wife and fortune to your descendants. But what talent do you possess that the Kun people might value?"

His voice hardened. "In the end, your only skill is using Daoist magic and divine powers to deceive ignorant villagers—coercing them to serve your purposes. Do you know what the Kun call this? 'Organizing feudal superstition activities.' To them, you represent social instability. Keeping you alive offers no benefit—only liability. You cannot serve as their official or their general. Compared to the administrators they have trained and examined themselves, you are worthless in their eyes. They might rope you in briefly at first, but over time, the moment you make the slightest misstep, disaster will fall upon your head."

Xue Tu's brow furrowed deeply. He listened in numb silence, saying nothing. His face had hardened into a mask, only the shifting pallor—green to white and back—betraying the turmoil within.

Yun Ting spoke up. "Brother Xue is no ordinary man. Since entering the jianghu, you have harbored lofty ambitions. Word has it the old Marshal never intended to pass the Heavenly Soldier Daoist Spirit Society to you. You seized it through your own machinations." His smile carried an edge. "If you were truly modest and deferential, the man sitting here today would be the old Marshal himself—still healthy and in his prime, as he was just a few years ago. It would never have been your turn." He let that sink in. "With your competitive and aggressive nature, life under the Kun would inevitably end badly."

Xue Tu's eyes snapped up, boring into Yun Ting. "What did you just say?"

Yun Ting held his gaze without flinching and sneered. "Walls have eyes. Partitions have ears. Each man knows what he has done. We simply pretend ignorance, for courtesy's sake. Don't force us to speak plainly."

Xue Tu's breathing quickened. His hands slowly curled into fists, and his expression turned to ice.

Yun Ting said nothing more. He merely produced two more items from his robe and dropped them onto the table with a sharp snap. "Brother Xue, perhaps you recognize these?"

Xue Tu picked up the objects. What he saw struck him like a thunderbolt, draining the warmth from his body. One was a Daoist Spirit Society name card and divine talisman. The other was an Australian work identification card. Both were stained with dried, blackish-purple blood.

Xue Tu remembered sending trusted disciples to contact the Australians—disciples who had departed and never returned. This matter had festered in his heart ever since, a wound he dared not speak of to anyone. It haunted him in the quiet hours of night, stealing his sleep, filling his mind with dark speculation. He had never expected to see these tokens here.

His expression wavered with uncertainty. His eyes darted around the room—and he realized that not a single one of his trusted aides remained nearby.

Watching him, Yun Ting suppressed a cold smile. "Brother Xue need not worry. This matter is already concluded; it rots only in the bellies of us three. But do not harbor other thoughts. Young Master Liang and I have spent years investigating—probing openly and covertly. Your past activities against the Kun—assassinating village liaisons, robbing their Reasonable Burden collections—all of it is already known to them. Their factories and guards have compiled a mountain of evidence against you. Words like 'death alone can appease public anger' have leaked out." He let that sink in. "With such deep enmity, does Brother Xue truly expect the Kun thieves to forgive and forget? That would be naive beyond measure. Moreover, their failed recruitment attempt has sealed your fate. Given their nature, brutal suppression will follow within days. You must steel your resolve. Only one path of retreat remains. Do not delude yourself further. Worse than straddling two boats is having no boat at all."

Wooden Stone produced a letter from his robe and spoke with solemn gravity. "Brother Xue, I have here a recommendation letter personally written by Governor Xiong. It promises you a substantive appointment as guerrilla general at minimum. Should you distinguish yourself in battle, a lieutenant colonelcy is not out of reach. Furthermore, when Guangzhou Prefecture is recovered, you need not leave your native soil—you may lead troops to guard it yourself." He let the weight of the offer settle. "Merit, fame, wealth—all within easy grasp. What you desire, the Kun people will never give and cannot give. Only the Imperial Court can grant us what we seek." His voice cooled. "If Brother Xue insists on walking that wrong path and forcing a confrontation, I fear it will harm our harmony. Surely you realize that Second Brother Yun and I always leave ourselves backup options?" He extended the letter. "This is no forgery. Governor Xiong's official seal is on the reverse. Examine it carefully."

Xue Tu accepted the letter with both hands. He read it in silence for a long time. At last, he released a long, shuddering sigh. As if all the tendons and bones had been removed from his body, he sank slowly into the round-backed armchair. He stared blankly into nothing for a long while.

Then suddenly, he gripped the armrests and pushed himself upright. His voice rang out sharp and decisive: "If that is how things stand, then the man surnamed Li absolutely cannot be allowed to live. Men!"

The door swung open and a burly man entered, clasping his hands in readiness.

"Select several dozen of your toughest fighters," Xue Tu commanded. "Go immediately and pursue Li Jian and Li Baiqing of Old Li Village. I want the heads of that uncle and nephew. Go quickly and return quickly!"

Yun Ting spoke from his seat. "This humble one lacked talent but possessed some foresight—I anticipated Brother Xue's thinking. I have already dispatched more than ten men in pursuit. If Brother Xue is willing to send additional forces, so much the better. Combined, we shall ensure Li Jian does not escape justice."

Xue Tu turned to regard him. He nodded slowly, his eyes filled with complex emotion.

Wooden Stone Daoist and Yun Ting exchanged a glance, knowing in their hearts that the final nail had been driven home.

(End of Chapter)