Sir, take me to rebel (9): 

In the golden autumn of September, the tax officials arrived in Liang Province, fierce and imposing.

Before they even had the chance to sneer at how Liang Province had managed to survive until now, the tax officials were led by the governor into a heavily guarded treasury, where they saw a mirror smooth as glass, crafted with a skill so divine it seemed like a gift from the heavens.

Staring at the arrogant figure reflected in the mirror, the tax official’s hands trembled with excitement. He did not dare touch the treasure but turned around to reveal a greedy expression to the governor, dropping hints and outright words in hopes of obtaining it.

The governor understood perfectly and played along. The two conversed cheerfully inside the storeroom, and the tax official never mentioned increasing taxes. What were taxes compared to such a treasure that could endure through the ages? Naturally, the priority was to obtain it by any means.

His only thought was to present the mirror to the emperor in exchange for rewards. He ordered his men to carefully transport the fragile object onto a cart, terrified it might be damaged. Personally accompanying the convoy, he rushed back to the capital as fast as possible.

Watching his elated figure leave, the governor sneered inwardly at his lack of vision. Turning back, he adjusted his attire in front of an even larger mirror in his own chamber, feeling a thrill as though he had indirectly outshone the emperor himself.

Yes, he was just that petty.

When the master of ceremonies returned, what he saw were the governor and others looking smug and self-satisfied.

Earlier that summer, locusts had struck a county in Qu Province. To prevent nearby counties from being affected, the master of ceremonies rushed there with his men.

Locust plagues were, by nature, common every few years. Normally, what was needed was to spot them early in spring, prevent their spread, and kill the disaster before it began.

But thanks to the sorcerers of the Qiuchao dynasty, there had been no such locust plagues for many years. The people had completely forgotten such things even existed and naturally did not remember to guard against them.

Now, as swarms of locusts descended, months of crops were reduced to scraps. The farmers broke down in despair, helpless as their future food supply was devoured before their eyes.

Local officials panicked and sent desperate pleas for aid to the court—with predictable results.

Just when hope seemed lost, the disciple of the famed Mr. Si arrived with supplies and manpower. To the locals, it was more precious than a timely gift of life-saving coal in the snow.

Before the county magistrate could even properly host him, the master of ceremonies declared he must leave immediately: the swarm, after stripping these fields, would soon move on to others, so preparations had to be made in advance.

The magistrate ground his teeth upon learning that the swarm would not die off after destroying their fields, but instead would go on to ravage others.

On instinct, he asked if there was anything he could do to help. To his relief, the master of ceremonies readily agreed, “Of course, your assistance would be most welcome.”

Thus, chickens, ducks, and even frogs from the fields were brought forth by the outraged locals, who marched to the next county in a show of determination, startling its magistrate.

Fortunately, Si Qi’s reputation was already widespread. Though the nobles in the capital cared little for the survival of distant commoners, the people here cared deeply.

When word spread that the locusts might arrive, the magistrate immediately opened the city gates, welcomed the master of ceremonies, and asked for guidance.

He instructed them to search the soil for locust eggs, release the borrowed chickens and ducks into the fields, forbid the hunting of birds during this time, and set up fire pits in different locations to burn the swarms, taking advantage of their attraction to light. Though the magistrate did not understand at first, he still followed the advice to the letter.

The locals were confused at first, even eyeing the chickens and ducks as potential meals.

But when the refugees from the neighboring county arrived, weeping as they described the devastation, the people here were frightened into action. They wasted no time in scouring the fields for locust eggs.

And sure enough, the swarms came, darkening the sky like a nightmare.

Strangely, this time the swarm was smaller, not larger, proving that the preparations had worked.

Some who had never seen such horror were paralyzed with fear. Yet the army of chickens and ducks rushed forward without hesitation, devouring locusts faster than the desperate farmers themselves.

Only then did everyone understand their purpose, and they were filled with admiration for the young master’s wisdom. No longer willing to be outdone, they joined in the slaughter.

Through day and night of tireless effort, countless locusts perished in the fire pits. After teaching his methods, the master of ceremonies hurried on to warn the next county. Those who witnessed his deeds were overwhelmed with gratitude, and yet another story was added to the legend of master and disciple.

After a whole autumn of work, he finally fulfilled the task entrusted to him and returned to Liang Province with honor.

There, in the marketplace, he saw the mirror.

The master of ceremonies disliked mirrors—they reminded him of his own ugliness, and of how unworthy he seemed standing beside his ethereal teacher.

He could not help recalling the drawing his teacher had once made of a man so handsome he seemed divine. To him, the slight smile on that man’s lips was like mockery, as if to remind him to give up.

He casually set down the so-called priceless treasure that others coveted, feeling none of the emperor’s obsession for it. Instead, he went home, bathed, dressed neatly, applied a refreshing fragrance, and trimmed his nails with care.

Satisfied with his appearance, he ignored the teasing looks of his men waiting outside and went to his teacher’s residence.

Si Qi was leisurely enjoying his afternoon tea.

While most teachers risked being outshone by their disciples, Si Qi simply let his disciple do all the work while he relaxed.

The young man, though exhausted from months of travel, felt all his weariness vanish the instant he saw his teacher, as though he were floating.

Almost dreamlike, he drifted over, murmuring “Teacher” in a voice so meek it would have shocked those who knew his usual sternness.

Si Qi beckoned him to sit, poured him tea, and handed him a pastry.

Behind the mask, the young man’s ears burned red, and he struggled to speak.

But his eyes shone with unrestrained affection and longing.

“What happened while you were away? Did you gain anything?” Si Qi asked warmly.

With that prompt, the disciple eagerly began to speak, skipping over all hardship and sorrow, telling only cheerful tales with lively detail that made even Si Qi laugh.

His smile was cool and effortless, otherworldly, filled with an allure that made the disciple lose himself in admiration.

He stared blankly until Si Qi raised a brow and flicked his forehead. The boy cried out, covering his head, half complaining, half acting spoiled.

“Teacher!”

“If anyone else looked at me like that, they wouldn’t get away with just a flick,” Si Qi remarked.

The boy’s heart leapt. “So I am special to Teacher after all!”

“Do you want me to send you away again?” Si Qi replied dryly.

The boy backed down quickly, muttering, “Teacher, please don’t…”

Ignored, jealousy gnawed at him, and he whispered, “Why does Teacher favor that man so much? What’s so good about him?”

“The one I love is good in every way,” Si Qi snorted.

“For example?” the boy pressed.

“For example, he is handsome.”

The disciple froze, touched his masked face, and wilted. “Teacher always bullies me.”

He knew full well that was his sorest spot.

But almost at once he cheered up. “But Teacher only bullies me, never others. That means you do like me best.”

“…”

Si Qi shot him a sideways glance. “You’ve not only grown taller over the years, your skin has grown thicker.”

The boy grinned. “And so has my respect and love for Teacher.”

Si Qi shook his head with a smile.

Seeing no trace of displeasure, the boy finally relaxed.

He only wished that Chu Feng would stay gone a little longer, so he could slowly win over Teacher’s heart.

Once he became master of the realm, wielding ultimate power, he refused to believe anyone but him could be worthy of Teacher.

Surely, Teacher would forget that long-missing man and come to love him—young, brilliant, and full of promise.

…

The glazed mirror appeared in court. Ministers surrounded it, praising the perfect clarity of its reflections with flowery words. Soon, all of the capital knew of the treasure, longing for a glimpse to satisfy their hearts’ desire.

Along with the articles came trading caravans traveling throughout the Qiu Dynasty.

Because the remote regions were barren and poor, with little profit to be made, caravans that normally operated around the capital rarely ventured to such desolate places. Better not to risk making no money and instead being robbed by dirty, desperate disaster victims.

This year was slightly different. Winter had just ended, spring flowers were blooming, the weather was pleasant, and the caravan from the Northern City leisurely arrived in Liang Province.

They did not bring much cargo, but their entourage of tall, strong attendants was unusually large.

A young man traveling with the caravan whispered to his elder brother, “This place looks so desolate. Its fortune must be poor. Why come here to trade?”

The elder brother smiled and explained, “Where vegetation is lush, fortune is strong. Naturally, one should trade in such blessed lands. But even though Liang Province looks ruined, there are still people here. As long as there are people, there is business.”

The younger brother objected, “But they can’t even afford food. How would they have money?”

The elder laughed loudly. “Who says you must trade for money? Don’t you know that sometimes a human life is cheaper than a blade of grass?”

The younger one looked puzzled. “Brother, I don’t understand.”

The elder lightly tapped his brother’s head with a fan. “You’ll understand soon enough.”

The farther they went, the drier the land became, withered grass and barren trees everywhere. After traveling dozens of li, not a single trickling stream could be found. It was hard to imagine anything living here.

The group grew uneasy at the bleak sight, but the elder brother looked satisfied. He said, “For years, Liang Province has suffered famine after famine. The court keeps receiving pleas for aid. Now it’s clear—they really can’t go on anymore.”

The younger thought his brother’s tone strangely cheerful.

“Later, keep an eye out for pretty-faced girls and tall, strong, capable men.”

The younger’s heart skipped. “Brother?”

The elder laughed. “I’ll rescue them from misery, give them food and clothes, and send them to a place where they’ll want for nothing. They should be grateful to me.”

The younger suddenly understood, stammering, “But… but you’re going to sell them as—”

“Prostitutes and slaves at least get fed,” the elder said matter-of-factly. “You don’t know how awful hunger feels. If I hand them a piece of dry bread and send them somewhere better, they’ll fight each other to kneel and beg me to take them.”

The younger, raised in comfort, felt his heart race with unease at such words.

“Listen. If they sell themselves, at least they remain human. If the court seizes them, their fate will be no better than pigs and dogs.” The elder smiled as he lectured. “We are different from them. Born in the capital, we are noble by nature. Don’t grow soft-hearted and ruin my business, or Mother and Father will be disappointed in you.”

The younger’s throat went dry. “Mother and Father think this way too?”

“Everyone does. Otherwise, why are we carefree while they suffer disaster after disaster?” The elder explained. “Do you think fortune comes for free? For you to live well, someone else must suffer.”

The boy pursed his lips, his young mind shaken.

At that moment, the attendants ahead shouted that they saw city walls. The group quickened their pace, eager to rest.

The younger had already pictured emaciated, half-dead wretches lying in the dirt like dying dogs, reeking and stretching out hands for food. He covered his nose in advance.

But before he even saw the scene inside, he heard the lively sounds of prosperity from beyond the gates.

The group froze in place.

The armored gate guards frowned. “What’s wrong with you all?”

The elder brother stared in confusion at the sight ahead. “Is this not Liang Province?”

The guard looked annoyed. “Of course this is Liang Province. You don’t even know where you are?”

“But… but—” the elder stammered.

“Well, are you coming in or not?” the guard pressed.

“Y-yes… we’re coming…”

“Entry fee: one coin per person, three per cart of goods.”

“So cheap?” the naïve younger brother muttered, earning a glare from his elder.

Even though still bewildered, the elder knew enough to seize a bargain.

The younger stuck out his tongue.

Once inside, the group’s eyes widened at the sight of the bustling crowd.

It wasn’t that they couldn’t believe people here were still alive—and well-fed at that.

The shocking part was the clothes on their backs, the shoes on their feet—what were these things?

The guards noticed their stunned expressions and, out of pity, asked, “Where have you fled from?”

The merchants from the prosperous capital blinked. “What?”

“I knew it—you must have had a hard life before,” the guard said kindly. “But don’t worry, now that you’re here, you’ll be fine.”

The group was speechless, feeling oddly insulted.

“We’re not refugees! We’re here to trade!” the younger shouted, face flushed.

The guard blinked, then studied them. Their muscles were full, they didn’t look underfed. But their long robes and rough hemp clothing… something clicked in his mind.

His voice turned colder. “So you’re merchants. What do you intend to sell?”

“We…” The younger faltered, glancing at his brother nervously.

Were they really going to offer those dry, tasteless cakes in exchange for forcing people into servitude, prostitution, and slavery? Saying such a thing aloud might get them beaten to death.

The elder’s face reddened, and through clenched teeth he forced out, “Naturally, fine goods from the capital.”

They might be rejects discarded by the nobles, but to these commoners, they should still count as treasures.

When the guard heard “fine goods from the capital,” he did show some interest.

It had been years since a caravan from the capital had come this way.

The elder noticed the longing on the guard’s face, felt a brief swell of pride, then tensed, bracing himself for extortion.

But the guard only glanced at the cart, didn’t even step closer, and said nothing suggestive.

The elder: ??

Why wasn’t he following the usual script?

Seeing the elder staring, the guard thought he understood and said, “If you want to sell, go to the western market. Lots of people there, easy to trade.”

The elder felt uneasy, thinking the man was hinting at something. He quickly forced a smile, pulled out a money pouch, and tried to slip it to the guard to avoid trouble later.

And yet that man had no idea what he was trying to do. Suddenly something was shoved into his hand, and he pulled away warily, asking what he meant by it.

He was left speechless, so he opened the money pouch with a forced smile, saying it was just a small token of goodwill.

The soldier finally understood his intention, his expression extremely peculiar. That reaction was something the older brother would never forget for the rest of his life: “Do you not know that taking bribes is against the law?”

The older brother: “…”

Completely at a loss for words, the older brother could only bow stiffly, stifling his frustration, and call his men to leave.

It seemed that ever since entering Liang Province, nothing had gone the way he had anticipated.

On the way to the western market, they observed the passing pedestrians. The people’s faces were ruddy, their skin full, showing no signs of famine at all. Compared with the barren landscape they had seen along the road, the more they thought about it, the stranger it seemed.

The younger brother tugged at his sleeve: “Brother, didn’t you say that in places where the vegetation is desolate, the fortune must already be dead? What about these people…”

The elder admitted, ignoring his usual pride: “I don’t know. There’s something odd about this place.”

The younger brother was startled: “Could it be we’ve entered some kind of ghost city? All of this is just illusions created by demons!”

Everyone shuddered at the thought, their hair standing on end. The older brother’s temple vein bulged, and he smacked his brother on the head with his fan: “Are you awake now?!”

The younger cried out in pain, clutching his head and looking tearfully around. Seeing nothing had changed, he said innocently, “If this were a dream, I should be awake now.”

“Then it seems you weren’t dreaming.” The older brother snapped.

The younger looked aggrieved. Just then, he noticed a little girl of six or seven holding candied hawthorn and staring at him. Feeling embarrassed, he asked her, “Are you a spirit creature?”

The girl looked baffled. The boy quickly covered it up with glib words: “I mean, you’re pretty, like a spirit from a dream.”

The woman beside the girl chuckled, picked up her daughter, and said, “Little brother, you’re not bad-looking yourself, rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed, like a child from a New Year’s painting.”

The boy had never been complimented like that before, and his face immediately flushed red.

The older brother glanced sideways at the woman. Seeing her well-dressed but with no servants following, speaking so casually to strange men, he silently cursed her for being improper. Outwardly, however, he showed none of it, smiling as he asked, “Madam, the cloth you wear looks so delicate, and the color so bright. May I ask where you purchased it?”

The woman had already noticed the group’s travel-worn appearance and plain clothes, but she had no intention of mocking them. Smiling, she said, “This is cotton cloth. If you want to buy some, just go to the market over there.”

Then, curious, she asked, “Where did you flee from?”

Most who came here had done so because they could no longer survive where they were, seeking a new path. In the city, anyone dressed in plain hemp clothes without the distinctive accessories of Liang Province was easy to spot as an outsider, and recently arrived at that.

The group was startled, once again feeling insulted.

The older brother restrained his anger. “We are not refugees. We are merchants from the capital!” He deliberately stressed the word capital.

“Wow, the capital!” The woman’s expression instantly turned to shock, her gaze carrying a trace of awe. “I spoke thoughtlessly just now, please forgive me—”

“As long as you understand.” The older brother cut her apology short with a cold face and turned to leave.

The younger looked at the uneasy woman, then at his grim-faced brother. He felt she had not meant to offend. Wanting to smooth things over but unable to find the words, he hurriedly bowed slightly in apology before quickly following after his brother.

“Brother, don’t be angry. She said she didn’t mean it—”

“Long hair, short sense,” the older brother said harshly. “I see the women here strolling freely in the streets, chatting casually with men. Likely, after years of hunger, they’ve done all sorts of things, so they care nothing for their reputation.”

The younger froze, hurt by his words. “How can you…”

His usually refined and courteous brother, who always greeted others with a smile, why was he so harsh toward the people here?

After all, the woman had kindly explained where the fabric came from and even gave them directions. She had only asked out of curiosity where they were from.

The older brother’s face hardened. “Have you forgotten what I told you earlier?”

The people living here were lowly, doomed to desperation. They were not the same as them.

“…I understand.”

The boy’s face showed distress. Apologetically, he lowered his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly caught sight of something. His body went rigid, and he rushed forward.

“You!” the older brother barked angrily, quickly chasing after him. “Just a few words of scolding and you act so thoughtlessly.”

“No, that’s not it,” the boy said breathlessly, flushed with excitement. Carefully picking something up from a stall, he showed his brother. “Brother, look! Isn’t this a glazed mirror?”

The older brother stopped in his tracks. His gaze fell on the man reflected in the glass.

Snatching it from his brother’s hands, his fingertips trembled slightly.

The man in the mirror looked agitated, every detail down to the trembling eyelashes clear as day. Just as the rumors had said, it was flawless, smooth as jade.

He quickly tucked it away carefully into his chest and barked at his brother, “Go, now!”

“Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?!” The stall owner shouted, stopping them. “You’re trying to steal?!”

The surrounding crowd turned to stare. The older brother froze in place, his expression darkening.

Their attendants instinctively reached for their weapons, ready to cut a bloody path, but the younger noticed the stall was full of such mirrors. He quickly tugged at his brother’s sleeve, shouting, “Brother, look! There are lots of them here!”