IDWBE -Chapter 40 A Lawless Place

“Your Highness!”

Xie Zan chased from behind but couldn’t catch up.

After Lin Yi left the Commander’s Office and had walked only a short distance, he looked at the long line of people trailing behind him and said irritably, “Why are you all following this prince?”

“Your Highness…”

Shen Chu and the others looked aggrieved and couldn’t bring themselves to speak. Wasn’t it you who said you’d rather sleep on the street than stay in that hellish place?

So what was this supposed to mean now?

Lin Yi said impatiently, “Leave a few people to follow me. The rest of you stay there, rest, eat something, and feed the animals. Aren’t you tired, all of you trailing along like this?”

After muttering a few complaints, he wandered about under the curious gazes of the local residents.

Low thatched huts and wooden shacks lay scattered in disorder along both sides of a river called the Xijiang.

Travel between the two banks relied entirely on small boats.

The tallest structure was a stone-built temple; looking toward Baiyun Mountain, one could see the tip of a tall pagoda.

The uneven dirt roads, baked under the sun, sent dust flying everywhere, and Lin Yi coughed the whole way.

Before long, he had almost finished touring this so-called “Baiyun City.”

And in just that short time, he had witnessed at least ten incidents of group brawling, each involving no fewer than four people.

There was absolutely no regard for law or order.

He found a small eatery. Flies buzzed wildly over the chopping board, and the meat on it was blackened—Lin Yi couldn’t even tell what kind of meat it was.

His stomach growled, and in the end he couldn’t bear it any longer. He randomly ordered some food and swallowed it with his eyes closed.

After all, this was basically how he had been getting by the entire journey.

At least he was no longer as finicky as he had been at the beginning.

After finishing his meal, the sun began to set.

The dim, gray streets suddenly filled with even more people.

Wherever Lin Yi went, he was inevitably surrounded and stared at.

Do these people have nothing better to do?

Baiyun City’s only inn had just one large communal sleeping platform that could hold dozens of people. Before Lin Yi even stepped inside, he caught a whiff of a nauseating stench and immediately turned around and left.

Is this a place fit for sleeping?

Sleep outside?

In the past few days in the wilderness, he’d had more than enough of that. Sleeping under gauze might keep him safe, but when nature called, he couldn’t exactly carry the gauze around with him.

If he stayed outside even a short while, he could swat down whole handfuls of mosquitoes—each one huge.

By the next morning, there wouldn’t be a single good spot left on his backside.

Without realizing it, he found himself back at the Commander’s Office. Turning to look at it again, he suddenly felt that this place was actually a rare patch of cleanliness in Baiyun City.

At least there was a stone-paved path in the courtyard, so one wouldn’t get muddy when it rained.

The roofs had tiles and wouldn’t leak.

There was even a proper kitchen, so cooking wasn’t a problem.

These old men might dress in shabby clothes, but they kept things clean—after all, they were educated men.

“Your Highness,”

Xie Zan said with a flattering smile, “I have long prepared lodging for you.”

“After thinking it over carefully, I really cannot refuse your kindness,”

Lin Yi said with a smile as he entered the fairly clean and bright main hall. “Lord Xie, these years must have been very hard on you.”

Xie Zan had been a jinshi graduate, first appointed as an editor in the Hanlin Academy. In the fifth year of Longde, he entered the Wenyuan Pavilion with Prime Minister Qi Yong and others to participate in state affairs, and later rose to Vice Minister of War.

He had always been known in court as a good-natured man who never offended anyone.

Unfortunately, he had grown too comfortable in his position, arousing others’ jealousy, and was accused of “meeting privately with the Crown Prince and failing to observe proper ministerial decorum.”

Thus he was demoted to this desolate and remote place—and it had already been eight years.

“I am merely passing the remainder of my life here,” said Xie Zan. His wrinkled face now looked almost no different from that of an old farmer in the countryside.

“You are too modest, Lord Xie,”

Lin Yi naturally didn’t take such words at face value.

Anyone demoted yet not dismissed was still hoping that one day the emperor might have a change of heart and summon them back.

Thinking about it, Lin Yi actually felt a bit sorry for him.

Seeing Lin Yi glance at the seven old men behind him, Xie Zan quickly pulled over a thin, short, white-haired old man and said, “Your Highness, this is Chen Desheng, formerly Left Vice Censor-in-Chief.”

Lin Yi had never heard the name, but still cupped his hands politely. “I’ve long admired you.”

“Greetings, Your Highness,”

Chen Desheng said, about to kneel.

“Please, no need for such formality.” Lin Yi quickly supported his arm, preventing him from kneeling, and asked curiously, “What position do you currently hold, Lord Chen?”

Chen Desheng replied, “This old man was exiled here as a penal soldier and holds no official post. Thanks to Lord Xie’s care, I am currently helping with warehouse duties.”

Xie Zan then pointed to another old man whose beard reached his chest. “Your Highness, this is Cao Heng, formerly a Grand Master of the Court.”

Next he brought over a one-eyed old man. “This is Wang Qingbang, formerly Minister of Personnel.”

Lin Yi stopped interrupting and simply listened as the introductions continued. The general theme was clear: they were all unfortunate men.

The unluckiest of all was the gap-toothed old man before him, He Jixiang, once the Commander of the Capital Garrison.

After Emperor Yongguang passed away and Emperor Delong ascended the throne, a general amnesty was declared throughout the realm. Yet not only was he not pardoned, Emperor Delong even added a special clause: “Not to be pardoned even in an amnesty.”

Just how badly must he have offended the emperor?

Lin Yi took a teacup from Mingyue, sat down, crossed his legs, and asked, “So, Lord Xie, how many people are currently in this Commander’s Office?”

Xie Zan replied, “In answer to Your Highness—just the eight of us.”

“Eight people…”

Lin Yi could hardly believe it.

Xie Zan explained, “Ten years ago, the barbarian state of Ayu, where Li Fo ascended the throne, stopped paying tribute and swallowed up our territory of Sanhe. His Majesty was enraged. General Mei Jingzhi led troops south. At that time this office still had over two hundred men, most of whom went with the army. We were exempted from conscription due to our age.”

Lin Yi asked, even more puzzled, “And no one was ever assigned here to replenish the ranks?”

Xie Zan said, “Not long after the southern campaign, Wadan began causing trouble again, and later there was a rebellion in Chuanzhou. Since then, all those sentenced to exile or penal service were sent to the northern frontier or to Chuanzhou. For ten years now, Sanhe hasn’t seen any new arrivals.”

A phrase suddenly surfaced in Lin Yi’s mind: a forgotten land.

He began to feel faintly regretful.

Before coming, he had thought that being far from the emperor meant a carefree life—facing the sea, enjoying spring blossoms, tending flowers, walking dogs, living at ease.

Only after arriving did he realize things were not so simple.

“So in other words, this place is beyond anyone’s jurisdiction?” Lin Yi asked, still unwilling to give up hope.

“Your Highness, the Commander’s Office hasn’t received rations or pay for nearly three years. We dare not leave without orders,”

Xie Zan said, pointing to the chickens in the courtyard. “We can only fend for ourselves and barely scrape by.”

Lin Yi sighed and returned to the bedroom Xie Zan had arranged for him.

Calling it a bedroom was generous—it contained only a wooden plank bed and a pile of farming tools stacked in the corner.

Mingyue tried to add extra quilts, but he refused, afraid of being roasted to death in the heat.

The paper on the window had long since fallen away, leaving only a rickety wooden frame. Zixia was pasting up new sheets one by one with glue.

Lin Yi said, “That’s enough. We’ll make do for a few days, and then we’ll build our own residence—ten times bigger than the one in Ankang City.”

He had been given a second life, after all—not to come here and suffer!