Chapter Fifty-Two: Hearts Yearning for Change

During the era of imperial rule, there was a curse that nearly every dynasty found inescapable: the collapse after three centuries. Some have called this the dynastic cycle. At its core, this cycle was driven by a process of social resource rebalancing—in plainer terms, the redistribution of land.

When land became concentrated in the hands of a few, and most of society’s resources followed, it only took a few calamities—a foolish or inept ruler, foreign invasions—for these colossal empires, centuries in the making, to collapse overnight.

Now, in Li Yun’s eyes, the Great Zhou had gathered every ingredient for disaster. The county magistrate had once remarked that the court’s increased taxation was to fund wars—wars fought year after year—proving that there were external threats. Li Yun’s own father and his peers had turned to banditry after losing their land—evidence of severe land consolidation. The scandal in Shitai County further revealed how corrupt the bureaucracy had become, to the point that reform seemed impossible.

All signs pointed to a nation in its twilight.

The magistrate, Xue, let out a long sigh before turning to Li Yun. “This year, I fear unrest will break out everywhere,” he said. “It’s even hard to say if the court will notice what happened in Shitai.”

In peaceful times, such an incident would have brought imperial envoys to investigate thoroughly. Now, with chaos looming across the land, the court likely lacked the energy to concern itself with one county’s woes. This was why the inspector Tian acted with such impunity.

Li Yun lowered his head, sipping his tea, and said coolly, “With the court in its current state, even if they send an imperial envoy, it would only be to line their pockets in Xuanzhou. They’d clean up, take what they can, and leave none the wiser.”

“No one will care about the truth of what happened in Hexi Village.”

Once more, Magistrate Xue was left speechless. After a long silence, he finally said, “Such is the state of our dynasty. But they say the Crown Prince is valiant and wise. Perhaps, when he ascends, he may turn the tide.”

Li Yun sipped his tea, inwardly sneering. In every dynasty, the so-called incompetent rulers had all seemed promising as crown princes; otherwise, they would never have been chosen to rule. Whether they remained wise and capable on the throne was always another matter entirely. And besides, when a country has decayed to a certain point, no single man can reverse its fate. To remake the world, it must first be broken.

Seeing Li Yun’s silence, Magistrate Xue understood much of what he was thinking. He sighed again and said, “In any case, the matter of Shitai is settled. We weren’t implicated, and you must be exhausted, not to mention injured. Take some time to recover before returning to your duties at the yamen.”

Li Yun rose, looked at Magistrate Xue, and smiled. “Rest assured, my words still stand. Even if it takes a year or two, I will rid Qingyang of every last bandit. No matter how chaotic it becomes elsewhere, Qingyang will remain a haven for a few more years.”

Xue exhaled heavily. “Very well. As long as I serve as magistrate here, you will have my full support in rooting out bandits.”

Injured, Li Yun could not clasp his hands in salute. He bowed slightly, then left the magistrate’s study. He hadn’t gone far before he nearly collided with Miss Xue.

Miss Xue Yun’er had come to bring her father some soup. Looking up, she saw Li Yun’s arm in a sling and cried out, “Oh! What happened to you?”

Li Yun glanced down at his left arm, only now remembering the bandage. “It’s nothing,” he said with a smile. “Just a cut from a rebel, a flesh wound. I’ll be fine in a few days.”

Xue Yun’er nodded gently, gazing at him in silence. The air felt strangely charged between them.

Li Yun fell silent as well. After a while, he spoke. “Miss Xue, I should return and rest. Let’s talk another day.”

She nodded again. “Be… be careful.”

Her feelings for Li Yun were tangled—resentment mixed with curiosity. Had he forced himself on her in the mountains, she might already be with child by now.

After watching him leave, Miss Xue carried the soup into her father’s study, forcing a smile. “Father, I made you some soup. Please drink it while it’s hot.”

The magistrate grunted, glanced at his daughter, and asked, “Did you run into Li Zhao outside?”

Startled at the name, Xue Yun’er nodded. “I did.”

“And what do you think of him?”

Her face flushed, and she fidgeted. “Father, what do you mean?”

He studied her, shaking his head. “I can see you have feelings for him.”

She took a deep breath. “Aren’t you concerned about his background?”

“I am,” he replied honestly. After a sip of soup, he narrowed his eyes and continued softly, “If it were before, even if you liked him, I’d never agree. He comes from the common rabble—no chance at office or wealth.”

“But…”

He fell silent, then sighed. “Now, perhaps I might consider him.”

Curious, she asked, “Why?”

He answered quietly, “At least with his abilities, no one will bully you. He could protect you for decades to come.”

She ladled another bowl of soup for her father, silent but thoughtful.

“If you knew who he really was, you’d never think that way!” she thought.

Still, her mind wandered. She recalled their month together in the mountains, the moonlight, Li Yun’s strong muscles, the way he punched through a sandbag…

Before she knew it, she had drifted off in a daze.

……

After leaving the yamen, Li Yun returned to his lodgings and slept deeply. The next day, he invited his fellow constables who had gone to Shitai to a tavern for a meal and drinks.

They drank into oblivion. Even Li Yun, with his formidable tolerance, became quite drunk. To avoid saying anything foolish, he and Zhang Hu staggered home together and napped until the afternoon.

When Li Yun awoke, he had to use two large buckets to rouse Zhang Hu, who slept like the dead.

Zhang Hu groggily sat up, scratching his head. “What is it, Second Brother?”

Li Yun glared at him. “I’m never drinking with you again. You were rambling just now—almost gave something away!”

Zhang Hu was still foggy, having no memory of almost spilling secrets at the tavern. But he took no offense. “Why did you wake me up?”

“Pack your things. We’re going back to Mount Cang.”

This perked Zhang Hu up. He rubbed his eyes in delight. “Finally! I’ve missed the stronghold!”

Li Yun had already bundled his two sets of clothes. Zhang Hu had little to pack. Soon, the two mounted their horses and left Qingyang, bound for their mountain fortress.

Shortly after they departed, Miss Xue, in a pale blue dress, arrived at the courtyard with her maid, Dong’er.

“Dong’er, are you sure this is the place?” she asked.

“I checked with the constables. This is it,” Dong’er replied.

Nervous, Xue Yun’er said softly, “You take the medicine in for him. We’ll leave once you’ve delivered it.”

Dong’er grinned. “Miss, why not deliver it yourself?”

Xue Yun’er glared, and Dong’er shrank away, hurrying to knock at the door.

A moment later, she returned at a run, holding a slip of paper. “Miss, Li Dutou isn’t home. There’s a note on the door.”

Xue Yun’er took the note. Four characters were written upon it: “Returning home to heal.”

Dong’er said, “He probably left it so the yamen wouldn’t come looking for him. Still…”

She studied the writing and smiled. “He’s got good handwriting, too.”

Xue Yun’er looked at the neat script, snorted, and muttered, “Returning home—his home…”

She didn’t finish the thought, but frowned at the note.

That bandit chief… Who would have thought his handwriting would be so elegant?