I asked you to go hunting, and you ended up wearing a yellow robe?

Wang Zhengwen's face twitched twice.

He took a step back, pointed at Qi Shan, and his voice changed.

"You...you're just a constable, killing government officials isn't enough for you, now you want to kill gentry too?"

Zhang Wenyuan also squeezed forward a step, his face turning bright red.

"Qi Shan! We are all officials with official titles! Try and lay a finger on us!"

A commotion suddenly broke out outside the door.

Two of Zhang's attendants, hands on their waist knives, rushed toward the hall door, cursing under their breath.

"How dare a mere constable block our master's path?"

"Get out of the way!"

Qi Shan didn't even turn his head.

He drew his long sword from his waist with a backhand motion, the blade gleaming coldly in the candlelight.

Before the two men could even reach the top of the steps, Qi Shan had already gone out to greet them.

A flash of light.

When the first head flew up, blood sprayed all over the face of the attendant next to him.

The man froze for a moment, then instinctively touched the blood on his face. Qi Shan's knife was already at his neck.

Another stab.

Two heads rolled onto the steps, and blood flowed into the yard through the cracks in the stones.

The hall was deathly silent.

Wang Zhengwen dropped the iron walnut on the ground, and it rolled a long way away.

Zhang Wenyuan's mouth was open, but no sound came out.

Zhang Xiu's hand, which was holding a cane, was trembling, and the wrinkles on his old face were bunched together.

Qi Shan shook the blood off his knife and turned around.

His boots made a sticky sound as they stepped into the pool of blood.

"Who else wants to try?"

Before he could finish speaking, seven or eight thugs climbed over the courtyard wall.

These people were all guards brought by their respective families. They had been standing guard outside the door, and when they heard the commotion, they all rushed in.

Some people were carrying sticks, some were drawing knives, and others were holding iron rulers.

The leader was a burly, dark-faced man with a face full of scars. His eyes turned red as soon as he saw the corpses in the yard.

"Damn it! He dared to kill members of our Zhang family!"

He drew his knife and charged upwards.

The people behind him surged forward as well.

Qi Shan did not retreat.

He took a step forward with his left foot, and slashed down diagonally with the knife in his right hand.

The burly, dark-faced man raised his knife to block.

Blades clashed, sparks flew.

Qi Shan's knife slid down the back of the opponent's blade, and with a flick of his wrist, the tip of the knife plunged directly into his ribs.

The burly man with the dark face groaned, his body swayed, and he fell down on the steps.

Qi Shan drew his sword and slashed down two more who rushed up from the side.

His swordsmanship was inaccurate, and he didn't pay attention to any particular moves or routines.

Every slash was aimed at a vital point.

Throat, under the ribs, lower back.

Within a dozen or so breaths, more than a dozen people were lying down in the courtyard.

The remaining thugs were so frightened that they backed away, dropping their weapons.

Someone threw down his knife and ran towards the door, but was stopped by two constables at the entrance.

Qi Shan wiped the blood from his face and walked back into the hall.

His clothes were soaked in blood, his boots were filled with blood, and every step he took left bloody footprints.

Wang Zhengwen slumped in his chair, his crotch soaked with sweat.

Zhang Wenyuan knelt directly on the ground, his knees hitting the ground with a loud thud.

"Officer Qi, spare my life! Spare my life! I'll give you grain! I'll give you grain!"

Qi Shan didn't look at him.

He walked up to Zhang Xiu, squatted down, and placed the knife across his knees.

"Mr. Zhang, did I just kill several members of your family?"

Zhang Xiu's lips trembled, and he couldn't speak.

His son, Zhang Wenyuan, spoke on his behalf.

"Three! We killed three! Officer Qi, our family accepts it! We'll donate all 2,500 shi of grain from the granary!"

Qi Shan turned and glanced at him.

"Two thousand five hundred shi?"

Zhang Wenyuan was stunned for a moment, then quickly changed his words.

"And another! And another! There are five hundred bushels stored in the cellar in the backyard! A total of three thousand bushels!"

Qi Shan stood up and looked at Wang Zhengwen.

"Mr. Zhang, and what about you?"

Wang Zhengwen's face turned ashen, his lips trembled for a long time, and then he suddenly jumped up from his chair, pointing his finger at Qi Shan's nose and cursing.

"Who do you think you are! You dare ask me to donate grain?"

"I am a scholar who has passed the imperial examination! My son is a prefectural magistrate in the provincial capital! You killed my Zhang family's guards today, and tomorrow the provincial capital will send troops to arrest you!"

"I see you—"

His words came to an abrupt end.

Qi Shan's knife had already pierced his stomach.

Wang Zhengwen looked down at the hilt of the knife in his abdomen, then looked up again, his face full of disbelief.

Qi Shan pulled out his knife, and blood gushed from the wound, flowing down his silk robe.

Wang Zhengwen made a hoarse sound, swayed twice, and then collapsed to the ground.

The other gentry members in the hall were all terrified.

Zhao Yongnian was the first to kneel down, took out a stack of silver notes from his sleeve, and held them above his head with both hands.

"Officer Qi! My Zhao family has donated two thousand shi of grain, plus five hundred taels of silver! We beg you, Officer Qi, to spare our lives!"

The other families also knelt down.

He pulled out all the banknotes, land deeds, and grain coupons, piling them up on the table.

Sun Maoliang huddled in the corner, his face as white as paper.

He secretly moved towards the door, but Qi Shan glanced at him and he immediately froze on the spot, too afraid to move.

Qi Shan walked to the main table, picked up the wine jug, and took a sip.

He wiped his mouth, looked at Zhao Bingkun, and spoke softly.

"Your Excellency, the grain is ready."

Zhao Bingkun put down his teacup, stood up, and glanced at Wang Zhengwen's corpse on the ground.

"Wang Zhengwen gathered a crowd to resist the law and attempted to assassinate the head constable of the imperial court. He deserved to die."

He paused, then looked at the remaining gentry in the hall.

"Gentlemen, don't you agree?"

Zhao Yongnian was the first to nod, kowtowing repeatedly.

"Yes, yes, yes! Wang Zhengwen deserved to die! Your Excellency is wise!"

The others echoed, afraid of speaking too slowly.

Qi Shan wiped the knife clean on Wang Zhengwen's corpse and put it back in its sheath.

He walked to the entrance of the hall and waved to Meng Da outside.

"Take men to the Zhang family's house, seal off the granary, and let the refugees outside the city come and collect the food."

Meng Da clasped his hands in acceptance of the order, his eyes filled with excitement.

"Yes, sir!"

Qi Shan then looked at Wang Tiezhu.

"Go to the Wang family and take men to move all the grain from the granary. Don't leave a single grain behind!"

Wang Tiezhu grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

"Rest assured, Officer! The Wang family granary is now the county government's granary!"

Zhang Wenyuan knelt on the ground, not daring to utter a sound.

Qi Shan turned around and looked at the remaining gentry in the hall.

"Gentlemen, let's leave it at that for today."

He smiled, a smile that looked somewhat sinister against his still-wet face.

"But let me make this clear from the start: anyone who tries to inflate grain prices or hoards grain in the future..."

He patted the hilt of the knife.

"Master Zhang is your role model."

The hall was completely silent.

Zhao Yongnian knelt on the ground, not daring to even lift his head.

Zhang Xiu stood up, leaning on his cane, sighed, and bowed to Zhao Bingkun.

"Your Excellency, I concede. This grain... may be donated."

He walked unsteadily towards the door, paused at the doorway, and glanced back at Qi Shan.

I don't know what he was thinking in his cloudy eyes.

Zhao Bingkun picked up his teacup, then put it down, and waved to Qi Shan.

"Officer Qi, Wang Zhengwen is dead, but his son Zhang Huai is indeed the prefectural magistrate of the provincial capital. This cannot be kept secret."

Qi Shan nodded, his expression calm.

"Rest assured, Your Excellency, when that day comes, I will handle it myself."