After Transmigrating into a Frail County Magistrate, I Became an Overlord - Chapter 5

“Have you recovered?” Qi Jianshuang cast a faint glance at Zhou Si and said, “I’m about to let go. I feel like if I get any closer to him, your eyes might kill me.”

Yun Zhensong twitched the corners of his mouth imperceptibly, let out a slow breath, and nodded.

Qi Jianshuang stepped back half a pace and said to Zhou Si, “Don’t harbor so much malice toward me. Besides, you couldn’t beat me.”

Zhou Si glared at him fiercely. However, since this was the person his master had repeatedly instructed him to treat well, no matter how angry Zhou Si was, he couldn’t make a move. He scoffed coldly, “Careful you don’t bite your tongue.”

Qi Jianshuang curled the corners of his lips.

As the sun set and the temperature dropped, Yusheng wrapped a cloak around Yun Zhensong and advised, “Master, why don’t you go back first? Brother Zhou and I are here; that will be enough.”

“……No need.” Yun Zhensong waved his hand. When he looked up again, his eyes were filled with sorrow: “Have the Granary Commissioner transport the grain.”

“This……”

“Do as I say.”

Before long, the muffled sound of chains grinding came from the base of the city wall, and twenty iron-clad grain carts filed out through the corner gate.

The starving refugees’ throats bobbed as they swallowed, but several half-grown children were held tight by their fathers and older brothers—last year, when a neighboring county released disaster relief, eight lives had been trampled to death.

“Magistrate?”

Yun Zhensong looked back.

Qi Jianshuang said word for word: “I will distribute the grain for you, is that alright?”

After the labor, sweat trickled down Qi Jianshuang’s forehead, and beads of sweat stood out on the tip of his nose.

He was like a wolf king who, despite being wounded, still stood at the head of the pack: sinister, fierce, and reliable.

Yun Zhensong was attracted to men this was something he had been clear about since high school. Now, he felt even more that Hongke was unexpectedly handsome. With just a few words, he had provided him with a sense of security, and Yun Zhensong couldn’t help but feel his heart stir.

“It doesn’t matter,” Yun Zhensong shook his head with a smile. “I stand here to steady the hearts of the people. You distributing the grain in my stead wouldn’t achieve that effect.”

“Then don’t stand too far from me.”

“……Alright.”

Qi Jianshuang wanted to protect Yun Zhensong because his identity was critically important. He was frail and prone to illness; if he were to die unexpectedly, the imperial court would send a new magistrate. Setting aside whether the new magistrate had seen him before, even if they hadn’t, Qi Jianshuang guaranteed that given the corrupt and dark state of the Daxuan Dynasty, there would not be a second official as altruistic and thoughtful of the common people as Yun Zhensong.

For the sake of his own unfinished plan, Qi Jianshuang had to ensure Yun Zhensong’s safety.

This was the easiest, brightest path currently available.

Yun Zhensong gave instructions to his subordinates—the Granary Commissioner, the Record Keeper, and the patrol inspectors—one by one: “The Granary Commissioner must count the quantity of grain being distributed; the Record Keeper is responsible for registering the refugees one by one. You patrol inspectors should first disperse the county’s own people and leave the county soldiers to maintain order to avoid conflicts.”

“Tell everyone in Yuanqing County that as long as I have a bite to eat, I will never let you go hungry. I will write a formal document to the imperial court tonight, hoping to receive support. If the granary is empty before the relief grain arrives, even if I have to kneel and beg other counties, I will make sure all the commoners’ stomachs are full.”

His resolute and responsible words moved everyone in their hearts. In the past, Magistrate Yun was at most considered a “good official” in their eyes, but now it seemed that Magistrate Yun was a truly excellent, wonderful father-figure to the people.

The anger of the original inhabitants vanished without a trace. The men exerted their strength to build porridge sheds and temporary grass huts, the women rolled up their sleeves to wash their hands and cook porridge, and the slightly older ones chopped firewood or mended clothes.

The refugees, who had originally been desperate and sorrowful, also saw hope they could grasp. Lu Yi and Deng Hua, who had been encouraging everyone to persevere until they reached Yuanqing County throughout their journey, continued to play a leading role: “Everyone, don’t crowd! It’s heartbreaking to waste even a single drop of rice soup, so stop pushing and shoving!”

Cheng Sui disguised himself as one of the responders, waving two dirty and tattered rags: “Let the old and the young take their share first! You men, step back! Our physiques are ultimately stronger than theirs!”

“That’s right! Ergouzi! Get your ass back here! Why are you fighting with Niu Niu and the other kids!”

“Bah! Do you think I’m that kind of person, Ergouzi? I’m afraid they won’t be able to hold the bowls steady!”

Qi Jianshuang gave Cheng Sui and the other two a faint glance and then looked away.

Qi Jianshuang observed Yun Zhensong in secret.

The action of bending his waist and back tightened the white-washed clothes for a moment, outlining his thin spine. The sliver of fair, smooth neck exposed was rubbed red by the rough, sandpaper-like hemp garments. Yun Zhensong was truly too thin, and the plain green sash tied around his waist looked as though it could be circled by one hand.

In the dim firelight, light and shadow dancing, Yun Zhensong looked like a silhouette, or even an illusion, causing Qi Jianshuang to be momentarily dazed.

There weren’t enough ceramic bowls in the county, so many people had to cup the boiling hot rice porridge in their bare hands; a few strands of dark green wild vegetables floated inside. Even though their palms were being blistered by the heat, not a single person let a drop of rice soup fall to the ground.

Yun Zhensong felt his heart tighten. He leaned against the wooden pillar behind him as if drained of all strength, his head drooping deeply, the bones of his neck protruding. He sighed, raised his hand, and pressed the back of it against his eyes.

It was too bitter. It was so bitter that Yun Zhensong felt the burden of being a magistrate was too heavy, that he was unable to do it well. If it were at the beginning, he wouldn’t worry about these unchangeable things, but now, he could neither abandon these commoners nor convince himself not to empathize with this era.

Yun Zhensong gradually sank into a quagmire he knew was dangerous, yet could not break free from.

“Report!!!”

Suddenly, someone came sprinting from the bridge above the moat, holding a torch that waved in such a way that it made Yun Zhensong’s heart flutter with panic. He immediately straightened his back and said sternly: “Go and ask what has happened.”

The county soldiers intercepted the man. Before long, they returned to Yun Zhensong’s side, equally panicked. To avoid making everyone worry, Yun Zhensong deliberately avoided the crowd, and only then did the soldier explain the reason: “The bandits on the mountain saw the porridge being distributed in the city and are wielding their knives to, to kill their way here!”

Yun Zhensong’s face darkened; it turned out that the “conflict” the system spoke of was waiting right here.

In years of constant disaster, those desperate mountain bandits wouldn’t even bat an eye at killing a few people for grain. Those county soldiers, who hadn’t trained in a long time and had long since become farmers, would be no match for a group of men who lived on the edge of a knife.

When the time came, the people in the county would be the first to blame the refugees who had fled here, and with the county soldiers and yamen runners all at the front lines fighting, they wouldn’t be able to spare any effort for the turmoil inside the city. For Yun Zhensong, alone, trying to stabilize everyone would be as difficult as ascending to heaven.

[Ding!] [Congratulations to the host for unlocking the “Store.” 100 gold coins have now been issued as startup capital.] [Congratulations to the host for unlocking the “Persuasion Value,” currently at 1%.]

Yun Zhensong hurriedly scanned the “Store.” There were very few things he could buy right now. The most useful thing for the current situation was the firearm, but he could only afford to buy one.

Just as Yun Zhensong was hesitating over whether to buy the firearm or save the money to buy grain, the next second he saw Qi Jianshuang with his arms folded across his chest, a sword tucked into his elbow—it was unclear where he had gotten it. Qi Jianshuang arched one eyebrow: “Afraid of blood?”

Yun Zhensong frowned: “What are you going to do?”

“Help you.” Qi Jianshuang used his elbow to move the scabbard, and at the moment the sharp sword flew out, Qi Jianshuang grabbed the hilt in mid-air with precise accuracy. His movements could be described as crisp and professional, leaving the county soldiers nearby stunned.

Cheng Sui, hidden among the crowd, felt quite surprised and arched his eyebrows, thinking to himself: Since when does the General like drawing his sword like this?

This move ignited the hot-blooded spirit in the hearts of the county soldiers, and they immediately began shouting that they would follow Hongke to wipe out the mountain bandits.

Yun Zhensong supported his forehead and sighed, saying: “Slow down, slow down. The mountain bandits are not easy, either; if they weren’t starving to death, who would do these harmful things.”

Qi Jianshuang glanced back at Cheng Sui, Lu Yi, and Deng Hua, then shifted his gaze back, the muscles in his back relaxing: “Then what do you intend to do?”

Yun Zhensong blinked at him, tilted his head, and asked: “Can you play along with a show?”

The bandit leader could smell the fragrance of rice from far away. Standing on a dirt slope, he looked down and saw the cooking smoke rising vaguely amidst the torchlight; his throat bobbed as he swallowed. Behind him, the bandits who were catching their breath had stomachs that rumbled loudly. The boss glared back, and his underling covered his stomach tightly, smiling bitterly: “T-this, it won’t listen to me.”

“Endure it.” Da Hu gritted his teeth, wiping the sweat from the sides of his face with his ragged sleeve. “Charge in! Grab the rice and run!”

The group of men took a breath, shouting as they charged down the dirt slope, gripping their rusted knives tightly. A few of them secretly bound their hands with coarse cloth, terrified that they would be too hungry and lose their grip on their knives.

“Kill”

Qi Jianshuang stood outside the city gates. Everything in the city seemed to be on pause; they watched the clash of steel outside with fear and trepidation. The commoners in the county had grievances in their hearts, but the county soldiers were ordered to separate the people of the county from the refugees and were strictly forbidden from speaking, causing everyone not to dare make a sound. The former glared with wide, angry eyes, while the latter bowed their heads low.

A quarter of an hour ago, Yun Zhensong had said to Qi Jianshuang: “Later, you play the bad guy, and I will play the good guy. If we can avoid bloodshed, let’s avoid it; if we really can’t frighten them, disarming a few arms is also acceptable we can just reattach them later.”

Yun Zhensong turned back to the crowd of refugees and said: “Whoever said they have caught spies and has a bit of skill in their hands, come out.”

The scarred-faced man stepped out, followed by a few other brawny, dirty men who squeezed to the front, including Cheng Sui, Lu Yi, and Deng Hua.

Yun Zhensong saw a woman and asked with concern: “Miss, can you manage?”

Deng Hua arched one eyebrow. This Magistrate was the first person to ask her rather than directly refusing her; she laughed arrogantly: “What? Looking down on women?”

“Of course not.” Yun Zhensong waved his hands repeatedly. “I’m afraid of you getting hurt. It’s better for girls not to get hurt easily. If you can’t keep up later, just step down, alright.”

Deng Hua nodded, said “Mm,” and then looked at Qi Jianshuang, her eyes carrying a sense of playfulness.

She mouthed the words: Not a bad person, I quite like him.

After they separated, Deng Hua began warming up her wrists and ankles, asking Qi Jianshuang, who was beside her, with great interest: “How about it? Can you still use a sword?”

“You really listen to him.” Qi Jianshuang’s sword remained in its scabbard.

Deng Hua glanced at the General’s hilt and didn’t expose him: “Anyway, I quite like that Magistrate. How cute; he looks energetic, speaks well, and the key is that he smells much better than the men in the camp!”

Under the order of Da Hu, dozens of bandits roared and charged out with their knives raised. In the instant before the engagement, Qi Jianshuang threw out a light sentence: “Don’t say that in front of him.”

Deng Hua’s mouth twitched, and she said nothing more. It was just that when the blade grazed the tip of her nose, she leaned back, squinted her eyes, and let out a laugh filled with interest.

Da Hu originally hadn’t been very sure of himself, not knowing what the defense force was, but upon reaching the front, he saw that not many people were guarding the city gates. He glanced toward the parapet and saw no signs of bows being drawn, which made him feel mostly at ease. But before his heart could completely settle, a young woman immediately lifted her leg and kicked him flying!

He almost stopped breathing!

His mood fluctuated up and down. The small fry who were fellow bandits were equally trembling with fear; although their shouting was full of momentum, their skill was clearly lacking.

The blunt blade cleaved through the chaotic night. The cloth wrapped around the hilt had long been worn down to a fuzzy edge, revealing the hilt’s original shape as a butcher’s knife. Qi Jianshuang retreated half a step, and the blade fell past his chest.

From the very beginning, Qi Jianshuang hadn’t intended to see them as enemies, but as soldiers who would need training in the future.

Thus, Qi Jianshuang subconsciously and disdainfully pointed out: “Your speed is too slow.”

Another bandit, screaming “Ah ah ah,” swung a heavy iron bar, aiming to smash it into the back of Qi Jianshuang’s head. Without a word, Qi Jianshuang dislocated his arm, kicked him away, and bent sideways to dodge a sneak attack from behind.

Clean and neat, without a single wasted movement.

The iron bar swung through empty air; the force of the arm found no target, and his body suddenly lost its balance, swaying twice.

With a single shoulder throw, Qi Jianshuang slammed the man—who had already been unsteady on his feet hard onto the ground, evaluating: “Your foundation is unstable.”

Whether it was because of hunger or the fall, the man closed his eyes and passed out.

On the side where Cheng Sui and Lu Yi were cooperating with several county soldiers, they had been working hard to take out most of the bandits, while the rest were all settled by Qi Jianshuang and Deng Hua.

If one were to rank a martial arts list, Qi Jianshuang would be first, with Deng Hua following closely behind—otherwise, how could Deng Hua have become Qi Yan’s teacher.