MLMD -Chapter 205 Thunderous Measures

Like wolves charging and boars crashing about, countless formerly arrogant street toughs scattered in panic through the main roads. Yet their fates were all the same—every last one of them was seized and hauled away in chains. Countless shops that had shut their doors in protest were sealed up, and many clerks and shopkeepers were arrested as well.

Several courtyards temporarily converted into holding cells were already packed to capacity. Jiang He, who was in charge of detentions, had no choice but to request permission from Yue Yang to use the drill grounds in the western part of the city as an additional prison. For a time, the entire city of Hunyuan was steeped in a grim, killing aura, and the common people were gripped by fear. Fortunately, the Yingzhou troops who had entered the city truly lived up to their claims of strict discipline—not a single soldier forced entry into a civilian home.

But those so-called masterminds who thought they could hide safely behind high walls and grand estates did not escape this calamity. Fully armed troops smashed in doors everywhere, storming in. Whether the occupants begged or cursed, the soldiers showed no mercy, dragging them all away.

The Fang Residence in the southern part of the city was the largest estate in that area. Covering nearly a hundred mu in a valley, it was unrivaled in Hunyuan—no one dared claim another as first if this one was second. For years, the Fang father and son had dominated the Hunyuan Prefectural Merchants’ Guild, amassing untold wealth. Accordingly, the entire estate was built in lavish splendor. On ordinary days, at least five to six hundred servants—stewards, maids, and guards—were constantly busy maintaining its operations. In Hunyuan, there was virtually no one who dared oppose the Fang family. But today, everything had changed.

“Clang—”

“Boom—”

The massive ironwood front gate of the Fang Residence, weighing over a thousand jin, was smashed open with a battering log. Hundreds of fully armed soldiers surged inside, and wherever they passed, cries of alarm erupted.

As the troops poured in, the Fang family’s guards emerged from all directions. Led by the head guards and stewards, they brandished knives, spears, and cudgels, confronting the soldiers head-on.

A middle-aged steward in a silk robe, both shocked and enraged, shouted at the officer in command, “Who are you people, daring to barge in here? Do you not know this is the Fang Residence?!”

“The place I’m storming is exactly your Fang Residence!” The company commander sneered, then pulled out a notice and read aloud: “Upon investigation, Fang Jioming and Fang Yingdi, father and son, have for many years maintained contact with the Eastern barbarians, transporting weapons and armor strictly prohibited by the court, aiding the enemy and collaborating with the invaders. Their crimes are unforgivable. They are hereby ordered to be arrested and brought to justice. Any resistance may be executed on the spot!”

Having finished, the commander tossed the notice forward. It fluttered down before the steward’s feet. With a cold laugh, he said, “You all heard that clearly. Men—seize them!”

“Let me see who dares!” The steward, frantic with rage, stepped forward and pointed at the commander, shouting, “Our master is a man of standing! Our young cousin serves in the Ministry of Personnel—”

“You talk too much!” the commander barked. “Open fire!”

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

A series of gunshots rang out. The steward was struck three times in the upper body. In a mist of blood, his torso was riddled like a sieve. He collapsed without a sound, disbelief frozen on his face as he died.

After killing the steward, the commander did not stop. Turning toward the remaining guards still clutching their weapons, he gave a cruel smile and snarled, “Keep firing!”

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

Amid the thunderous blasts, dozens of guards were hit by matchlock fire, screaming as they fell. The rest could no longer hold their ground; they dropped their weapons and fled toward the rear.

In the midst of the wailing chaos, Fang Jioming, supported by two maids, trembled as he made his way to the front courtyard. The sight before him was beyond belief. He had never imagined that anyone would dare storm the Fang Residence and shoot people openly.

Shaking with fury, Fang Jioming pointed at the commander and cursed, “You insolent brat, how dare you act so lawlessly! Such audacity! Aren’t you afraid I’ll report you to the court and have your entire clan exterminated?!”

“Smack—”

A rifle butt smashed into his face, knocking out the last two teeth he had left. At over sixty years old, Fang Jioming could not withstand such a blow and immediately collapsed unconscious.

Looking at Fang Jioming lying on the ground like a discarded sack, the commander sneered and waved his hand. “Bind this old bastard. Take everyone away. Seal the Fang Residence at once!”

…

What Yue Yang did in Hunyuan Prefecture was impossible to conceal—and he never intended to. The news spread at an extraordinary speed in all directions.

“Clatter—”

A delicate teacup shattered into dozens of shards on the floor. Hunyuan’s prefect, Jiang Xin, stared blankly at the constable who had come to report. After a long while, he asked in disbelief, “Is this true? How dare Yue Yang act like this?”

“Yes, my lord,” the constable replied, trembling. “It’s all over the city now. The Yingzhou troops have filled the streets. All the shops that went on strike have been sealed. Merchants have been arrested—or killed. Blood is everywhere.”

Jiang Xin’s face went deathly pale. He murmured, “How can he dare… how can he dare…”

“My lord, this is no longer a matter of daring or not,” another voice urged. “It’s a matter of how to handle the aftermath. Yue Yang has carried out such a slaughter that it’s beyond our ability to suppress. The court will surely learn of this soon—perhaps investigators will be dispatched. As prefect, you cannot avoid responsibility. We must think of a way out!”

Normally meticulous about his bearing, Jiang Xin no longer cared. He paced a few steps, muttering, “No. I must report this immediately—to the court, to the governor-general, to the governor!”

He lunged to the desk and grabbed a brush, only to find the inkstone dried up. He glared at the constable and barked, “Idiot! What are you waiting for? Grind the ink!”

News of Yue Yang’s killing spree along the northern route quickly spread across all of Shanxi—and even reached Beijing. In fact, it wasn’t only Hunyuan Prefecture. Around the same time, Yue Yang dispatched forces to arrest Zhou Nan, the northern route grain transport officer; Niu Mangui, the Hengkou garrison commander; and Xi Huaiying, the Shawo Pass commander. Except for Xi Huaiying—who had a leg broken while resisting arrest—the others were captured before they could even react.

After seizing them, Yue Yang wasted no time. He promptly sent evidence of their collusion with the enemy—confessions and witness testimonies included—to Taiyuan Prefecture, Datong Prefecture, and the capital.

Yue Yang’s thunderous strike and lightning-swift methods stunned all of Shanxi. Everyone was left dumbfounded. Before this, no one had imagined that Yue Yang’s killing intent was so ferocious. The last time he executed several hundred mutinous soldiers, it could be said he was dealing with internal affairs. But this time, he had turned his blade directly on scholars and merchants, slaughtering over a hundred people again. This man was simply killing without restraint.

Many, upon hearing the news, immediately thought to draft memorials impeaching him. But soon, pile after pile of evidence and confessions arrived from Yue Yang. Faced with such irrefutable proof, all who wished to defend those scholars and merchants fell silent. No matter what excuse one tried to make, it could not erase the crimes of colluding with the enemy, aiding the enemy, and secretly trafficking with the Eastern barbarians—no lofty rhetoric could cover that up.

Back in Hunyuan Prefecture, after Yue Yang sealed over a hundred shops and arrested so many people, all the merchants were scared out of their wits. From that point on, the labels of “colluding with the enemy” and “aiding the enemy” seemed to place themselves squarely on their heads. The common people thought simply: if you weren’t aiding the enemy, why did you follow those people in shutting down your shops? Why were you so closely associated with them? If this wasn’t handled properly, they would wear the label of “spy” for the rest of their lives, living under suspicion and hatred.

By now, no one dared treat Yue Yang’s words as idle talk. All the merchants finally picked up the proclamations Yue Yang had issued days earlier. Reading them now, it was as if they could smell the thick, bloody stench seeping from between the lines.

A proverb from the West in later generations says: violence cannot solve all problems—but it can solve most of them.

After Yue Yang’s massacre, the merchants finally, trembling with fear, reopened their shops.