The daylight gradually pierced through the clouds, revealing a touch of pale white.
The shops on both sides of the long street were heavily boarded up. Even the syrup vendors, who usually set up their stalls the earliest, were nowhere to be seen. The wide bluestone-paved road was completely quiet, save for the chaotic hoofbeats of the mounted guards and the muffled scraping of their armor plates.
Xu Youde sat on horseback. His rank-four dark green official robe embroidered with wild geese was already covered in the dirt and ash he had picked up in the Zhao family courtyard; there was even half a black footprint smeared across his front lapel.
But he didn't care at all. Instead, he straightened his barrel-thick waist bolt upright.
"Surround it," he said, raising his horsewhip and casually drawing a semicircle in the air ahead.
Qi's Bank. One of the largest hubs for money circulation in the capital of the Great Qian Dynasty. Its facade was imposing, and even the steps were carved from solid blocks of bluestone.
Three hundred mounted guards spread out like wolves and tigers in a neat formation. A hundred men went to block the dark alleys of the back street. Fifty crossbowmen vaulted onto the flying eaves on both sides and the roofs across the street in a few swift moves. Their arrows were nocked on the bowstrings, their cold, menacing gleam aimed directly at the bank's towering courtyard walls.
The remaining guards surrounded the front door so tightly that not even a drop of water could leak out—let alone a fly escaping.
Xu Youde dismounted. As he landed, his thick, short legs struck the bluestone slabs with a muffled thud. Carrying that eye-catching red silk bundle in his hand, he walked straight toward the steps.
There was no knocking, no routine shouting or announcement typical of official business. Xu Youde didn't even clear his throat. He simply waved at the guards following behind him and chopped his finger downward.
Two burly guards received the order. They unloaded a battering ram as thick as a bowl from a horse, hoisted it onto their shoulders, and stepped forward. The two took their stances, front legs bent and back legs straight, ready to smash fiercely into the vermilion doors studded with brass nails.
Just as the head of the battering ram was half a foot away from the door, a long, sharp creak suddenly rang out.
The heavy doors slowly parted from the inside. The battering ram halted mid-air, the two guards nearly throwing their backs out as they simultaneously turned to look at Xu Youde's expression.
The anticipated scene of dozens of armed guards fighting to the death with clubs did not occur. There were no shrill, terrified wails from the women, nor the sound of servants scurrying about. Looking past the wide courtyard straight into the bank's main hall, it was so quiet that it made one's scalp tingle.
The spacious business hall was empty. Behind the tall mahogany counters where clerks usually worked, there wasn't even the shadow of an abacus-flicking attendant. Only in the main seat directly facing the door sat a red sandalwood armchair.
Qi Wanshan, the head manager of the bank, was sitting right there.
He was dressed immaculately. He wore the dark purple patterned official robe of a rank-three Yuanwailang. Although it was an honorary title bought with real gold and silver, it was currently ironed so perfectly that not a single extra crease could be found. The white-soled black boots on his feet were spotless, and the black gauze hat on his head was worn with absolute precision.
On the tall mahogany side table next to him rested a Ru kiln tea cup. Wisps of white steam were drifting up from the rim, clearly indicating a freshly brewed cup of hot tea.
One man, one cup of tea, sitting upright in the main hall of this bank.
Xu Youde narrowed his small eyes, his gaze sweeping over Qi Wanshan's fastidious attire before looking down at his own dust-covered green robe.
He let out a cold sneer from his nose and took large strides over the high threshold.
Xu Youde stopped five steps away from Qi Wanshan, not even bothering to look him in the eye. He draped the bright red bundle over his left arm, pinched the dead knot with his right thumb and index finger, and roughly tore it open.
A blue-covered ledger was revealed.
Holding the spine with one hand, he gave it a hard shake. The pages rustled loudly as he flipped directly to the page he had folded earlier.
Xu Youde pulled a long face, his already scarce affability vanishing completely. Expressionless, he read exactly from the tiny regular script in the ledger, like a living Yama reading a death sentence.
"Qi's Bank. In the twenty-fourth year of Xuanwu, illegally minted silver ingots: two hundred thousand taels."
After reading this line, he paused slightly, his eyes looking over the top edge of the page at Qi Wanshan opposite him.
"This shady, dirty money is hidden on the third level of the underground vault, in a secret compartment behind the shrine on the east wall."
Xu Youde took a breath. His stubby finger slid down two lines on the page, and he raised his voice a few notches.
"Furthermore, three thousand Lianghuai salt licenses. These three thousand lifelines of the imperial court are pressed atop the third crossbeam of the accounting room's roof."
"Is that correct or not?"
After listening to this death-hastening reading of the ledger, the flesh on Qi Wanshan's face didn't twitch even slightly.
He raised his prominent, bony hands, picked up the teacup from the tall table, and lifted the lid. He used the lid to gently scrape the foam off the surface of the water, but he did not drink. He merely brought it to his nose to smell the steam, then set the teacup back in its place with extreme steadiness.
The porcelain clinked against the saucer, emitting a crisp sound.
Qi Wanshan stood up, his movements clean and efficient. He reached his hand into his wide purple sleeve, fumbled for a moment, and when he pulled it out, he was holding a heavy bunch of brass keys. Dozens of keys of varying lengths clattered against each other, ringing clearly in the empty hall.
He raised both hands, lifting the bunch of brass keys above his head, turned his wrists, and held them up with his palms facing upward.
"What Lord Xu said is not off by a single fraction," Qi Wanshan's voice was extremely calm, carrying the coldness of dead ashes.
He did not lower his hands, but merely turned his body slightly and used two free fingers to point at the wall to his back right.
"The mechanisms for the secret compartment were all unlocked by this humble commoner half an hour ago. As for the three thousand salt licenses on the beam..." Qi Wanshan spoke at a leisurely pace, "I have already had someone take them down, stack them neatly, and lock them in boxes."
He maintained the posture of holding up the keys, his gaze passing over Xu Youde's shoulder to look at the guards outside the door with their swords drawn.
"The entire Qi household, including servants and menials, totaling sixty-three people, are all currently waiting in the main room of the backyard for your disposal. Not a single person has fled."
