Chapter Twenty-Two: The Iron-Faced Judge!

“Brother Jiang, you’re finally back. We’ve been waiting for you for over an hour.”

“Thank you for waiting, brothers. And this gentleman is…?”

“This is Young Master Li Zhao, the newly appointed Chief Constable, a scion of the imperial clan… And this is Brother Jiang Hao.”

Liu Yidao stepped forward, making introductions between Li Zhao and Jiang Hao. At the same time, the two men studied each other. The difference was, Li Zhao’s eyes were full of admiration, while Jiang Hao’s gaze was much more complicated—partly suspicious, partly wary, and with a clear hint of dislike.

“I am Li Zhao. Pleased to meet you, Brother Jiang.”

“I do not deserve such a title. May I ask what brings Young Master Zhao here?”

Li Zhao smiled. “I have just taken up the post of Chief Constable, and am in need of capable assistants. I have heard, Brother Jiang, that you are both learned and skilled in arms, with a wealth of experience. I have come specially to seek your talents.”

“I appreciate your kind intentions, Young Master Zhao, but I have grown accustomed to a life of obscurity, and have no desire to return to officialdom. If there is nothing else, I must ask you to take your leave.”

Jiang Hao’s attitude was cold, and after only a few words he was already trying to send the guest away.

This left the four guards anxious. They quickly surrounded Jiang Hao and began whispering, telling him all that Li Zhao had accomplished since taking office: distributing silver to the constabulary, rebuilding the headquarters, reorganizing the ranks, and so on. They then pointed to their Asura Blades and the blazing uniforms they wore, to prove that the organization had truly undergone a complete transformation.

Their words clearly had an effect. Jiang Hao’s expression softened noticeably. “A guest is a guest. If you do not mind, Young Master, please come inside and have a seat.”

“Thank you!”

“Please.”

To say “inside,” though, was a stretch—Jiang Hao’s home was so poor there was not even a small stool. The group had to gather a few stones and sit together in the courtyard. Fortunately, Li Zhao had known hard times himself and was not troubled by such things. Being able to enter at all was already a victory; now it was time to draw closer.

The method was simple: he opened the cooked food and wine he had brought, and as they ate and drank, they chatted about topics of mutual interest.

“Brother Jiang, your hands are thick-jointed, with calluses on the base and fingertips. You must practice martial arts regularly, and I’d wager you are skilled with the spear?”

“Oh? Young Master Zhao knows martial arts as well?”

“A little. The spear is king among weapons, chief of the nine long arms. It is ill-suited for close combat, best for striking from a distance. The art lies in a point to the brow, a double thrust to the heart, a triple jab to the belly, a flick to the groin, a strike to the knee, a tap to the foot, a thrust to the shoulder, and a sweep left and right. What is thrust is a spear; what is swept is a staff...”

“Well said! I did not expect someone of your youth, Young Master Zhao, to have such profound understanding of spear technique!”

It is true what they say—shared interests can bring strangers together. After a round of martial talk and the help of good wine, much of the coldness in Jiang Hao’s eyes melted away, replaced by warmth. Seizing the moment, Li Zhao once more invited him to return to service.

“Brother Jiang, you are both learned and skilled. It would be a shame to waste your talents here. Come back to the constabulary—I will appoint you Chief Instructor, with full authority over all matters large and small!”

Jiang Hao sighed. “Thank you for your kind offer, Young Master Zhao. But in Chang’an today, the powerful run rampant while the people suffer. Even if I return to the constabulary, what can I truly accomplish? The ones we ought to arrest are untouchable, the wrongs we ought to right are beyond our reach—we can only watch helplessly as the common folk are bullied.”

He let out a long sigh, his eyes full of desolation. The events of three years past weighed heavily on him.

At that time, the son of a nobleman had seized a pair of sisters on the street and injured their parents. Jiang Hao had intervened to save the family. The case was ironclad, with witnesses and evidence, but when reported to the authorities, the noble’s son was never convicted—a little silver, a scapegoat, and the matter vanished. Jiang Hao himself was wrongly punished, flogged eighty times, nearly beaten to death. The sisters were still taken away, and the officials ignored their plight.

Li Zhao had heard this story and understood the frustration and deep disappointment Jiang Hao felt toward the official system. But with a few words, he untied the knot in Jiang Hao’s heart: “If you serve as constable, when the powerful oppress the people, at least someone will stand in their way. If you do not, then who will the people rely upon when they are wronged?”

“You are right, Young Master Zhao. If people like us shrink back, who else will the poor have to depend on? But if I am to return, there are three conditions you must agree to.”

“Oh? Let’s hear them.”

“First: I have always enforced the law with utmost integrity, without fear or favor. Should I offend the powerful or cause a great disturbance in the course of my duties, I hope you will not blame me.”

Li Zhao laughed. “Agreed! As long as you act according to the law, I will bear the consequences, whether you offend the mighty or cause an uproar. At worst, we lose our posts together, but never will I be a lapdog to the powerful!”

He agreed to the first condition with no hesitation. After all, it was exactly this iron will and integrity that made him want Jiang Hao on his side.

“Second: When I left the constabulary, many brothers left with me. Life has been hard for them ever since, often not knowing where their next meal will come from. May these brothers also be allowed to return?”

“No problem. As long as they are loyal, diligent, and responsible, the more the merrier.”

He agreed to the second condition just as readily.

“Third: The people here live in bitter poverty. Since Young Master Zhao is skilled at making money, I hope you will do what you can to help them—not to make them wealthy, but at least to ensure they have enough to eat.”

“Well, by my rough estimate, there are at least one hundred thousand poor folk living around Wulong Gully. Solving the livelihood problem for so many is no small task. But I will do what I can—improve their living conditions bit by bit, and help them earn enough to fill their bellies.”

“What? The entire Wulong Gully…”

Jiang Hao was stunned. He only meant to help the nearby neighbors—a few hundred households at most. He never expected that Young Master Zhao had the entire gully’s population in mind, and what’s more, spoke as if he truly had the means to solve the problem.

If that were so, not only would he pledge his service, but he’d give his very life without regret!

“From this day on, I will follow you, through fire and water, without hesitation. I only ask that, should you rise to glory, you do not forget this day’s promise.”

A scion of the imperial family, clever, shrewd, and full of ambition—Jiang Hao was sure this favored son of heaven would soar to great heights. Kneeling, he made a deep bow.

“Rise, my loyal friend. From now on, we are brothers—sharing life and death together.” Li Zhao helped him up and clapped him heartily on the shoulder. He had gained a mighty general indeed.

Time would prove Jiang Hao’s abilities. He was diligent and capable—after returning to the constabulary, he took over all affairs at once, managing everything with perfect order and efficiency. He led the men in day-and-night patrols, hunting down thieves and solving many cases. In no time, the security of Chang’an improved tremendously—petty criminals fled, thieves vanished, and the people cheered and applauded.

Meanwhile, Li Zhao was finally free. He could now enjoy a life of leisure: sleeping until noon, gambling on cockfights, feasting, and living in comfort.

Alas, these easy days did not last long, for a great event soon shook Chang’an: Wang Yuanbao’s house was robbed.

Wang Yuanbao, originally named Wang Ergou, was once a humble merchant from the Guanzhong region, making a meager living trading raw silk. At one point, he lost everything to a bandit attack while delivering goods. In utter despair, he was about to hang himself when an old man with a white beard—a veritable immortal—saved him. Not only did the old immortal save his life, but he gave him a great golden ingot and a secret recipe for making glazed glass. Glazed ware was a rare and precious commodity, worth more than gold itself!

With the golden ingot as capital, Wang Ergou used the secret formula to craft glazed vessels, amassing a vast fortune and rising to become a merchant whose wealth could rival nations. In gratitude to his benefactor, he changed his name to Wang Yuanbao.

Just how rich was Wang Yuanbao? Ordinary folk wondered, and even the emperor himself was curious. Once, His Majesty Li Longji summoned Wang Yuanbao and asked how much wealth he possessed.

Wang Yuanbao replied, “Your servant would tie a bolt of silk to every tree on Mount Nan. When every tree is adorned, my silk would still not be spent.”

A bolt of silk was worth an ounce of silver, and Mount Nan referred to Zhongnan Mountain—meaning his store of silk alone outnumbered all the trees on the mountain. Such was his wealth.

Thus, Wang Yuanbao, along with the other three merchant magnates—Yang Chongyi, Guo Wanjin, and Mei Wuniang—became known as the Four Great Lords of Wealth under Heaven.

But to return to the story: Wang Yuanbao was not only the richest man in the land, but also had deep connections with the royal family. He managed several imperial estates, earning vast profits for the throne and enjoying imperial protection—otherwise, the emperor would never have summoned him to court.

To thank the emperor for his favor, Wang Yuanbao gathered the finest craftsmen and, over several years at great expense, produced a set of eighty-one glazed vessels—each a masterpiece of exquisite beauty and priceless value. They were placed in the family treasury, awaiting the Emperor’s birthday—the Festival of Longevity—when they would be presented as tribute, sure to win the imperial favor and secure the Wang family’s future prosperity.

But fate is ever capricious, disaster strikes without warning.

On the second night of the seventh month, thunder roared and rain poured down all night. The next morning, when the Wang family opened their vault, they were astonished to find all eighty-one glazed vessels gone, along with twenty chests of gold and jewels!