Chapter 132: The Sycophant

Although the Daoist nuns lived a life free from worries about food and clothing, they lacked exercise and had somewhat weak constitutions, and some were rather advanced in age. Out of thirty people, six actually died.

This was practically a bucket of cold water poured straight over Cai Cong's head. He gathered another group—this time without volunteers, using death row inmates to make up the numbers—and began reducing the inoculation dosage, testing it bit by bit. He tested those who were malnourished, those who were currently ill, and various other conditions. After a dozen or so deaths altogether, he finally announced to the outside world that although the pox had not been completely eradicated, it could no longer pose a threat to humanity.

The messenger was in such a rush that he ran right out of his shoes, dashing barefoot all the way along Zhuque Avenue and shouting, "Word from the valley! The pox is eradicated! The pox is eradicated..."

The people fell silent, and then a wave of wild cheering erupted from Zhuque Avenue, surging toward the imperial palace. The roar grew higher and higher with each wave. By the time the messenger arrived outside the palace gates, Li Shimin was already standing atop the ramparts looking down at him.

The common people looked at the emperor with burning eyes. How he had ascended the throne was none of their concern; but as long as he spared them from the ravages of war and disease, they would pledge their loyalty to him.

He raised a hand to quiet the crowd below and asked in a ringing voice, "Tell Us, what of the pox?"

"The pox... is eradicated... Long live... Your Majesty!" The messenger fell to his knees, shouting with every ounce of strength in his body.

The crowd took up the cry in unison: "The pox... is eradicated! Long live... Your Majesty! The pox... is eradicated! Long live... Your Majesty!"

Li Shimin smiled. How long had he waited for this moment? The hearts of all the people belonged to him now. Imperial Father, from the depths of your deep palace, you must be able to hear this joyful roar, shouldn't you? Your son is the true bearer of the Mandate of Heaven; I am the one who was right.

Inside, Li Shimin was screaming with exultation, but his face wore a gentle smile as he declared loudly, "Let the entire realm celebrate for three days and three nights without curfew! We rejoice with all of you. When the Marquis of Chang'an returns to the capital, We shall personally go beyond the city walls to welcome him. The Empress shall present the broth, the Prime Minister shall lead his horse, and the officials shall line the way to greet him."

Li Shimin was going to personally meet and welcome him outside the city gates, with civil and military officials lining the route—a spectacle one might not witness even once in a lifetime. The common folk had already calculated the time, determined to find a prime viewing spot to witness the grand demeanor of this marquis.

Of course the marquis had a grand demeanor, though the little fellow had soaked in brine until his entire body was bleached white and his skin was wrinkled. Anyone who didn't know better would have thought he was being cured for salt pork, and a pungent, salty reek drifted from him from far away.

It wasn't just him; everyone in the valley, regardless of age or gender, was the same. They had boiled themselves in medicinal soups and pickled themselves in brine. Some had even gulped down mouthfuls of salty water, fearless of the saltiness, terrified only of carrying the pestilence of the pox. When they dragged their exhausted bodies out of the valley, people were already waiting there to hand them fresh clothes and warm braziers.

It was the late spring chill of March, the kind that could freeze a person to death.

Meng Baolai dropped to his knees before Cai Cong and wept bitterly. He had held strong for four months, watching and waiting for four months, and today he had finally received the result.

"Don't... don't cry. Grease everywhere... rain of fire." Cai Cong said with a shudder. Meng Baolai wiped away his tears and nodded vigorously.

Barrel after barrel of lard was hurled from the cliffs into the valley, quickly congealing into gray-white grease. Meng Baolai loosed the first arrow, followed instantly by a rain of thousands of arrows, streaking across the sky like a meteor shower, breathtakingly beautiful.

A towering inferno erupted, the air above the valley warped by the intense heat. From time to time, the scent of roasted meat drifted from the valley—some human, some from beasts.

The great fire burned for a day and a night, and Cai Cong and his men watched it for a full day and a night. Not until a spring breeze mixed with rain extinguished the blaze did Cai Cong give the order to return to Chang'an.

Spring brings life to all things! Cai Cong touched the pox scar on his arm; he had truly cheated death. Beyond the relief of surviving, however, the embers of hatred in his heart burned even brighter. Yet he would no longer act with reckless haste; the power of the aristocratic clans was simply too vast. Aside from mobilizing a massive army to suppress them, who could truly do anything to them?

"Baolai, is there any news of Tang Yi?"

"None. Our men have searched everywhere, and even interrogated the underworld scoundrels of Luoyang several times, but he has vanished as if evaporated from the earth."

"Is that so? Keep looking. If it comes to it, we can only erect a cenotaph for him." Cai Cong said calmly. After months without news, it was impossible to summon any fresh grief or sorrow.

"Baolai understands. Marquis, while you were inside the valley, hordes of men swarmed into the village, attempting to murder the mistress. The sleeper agents who had long lurked within the estate also surfaced. If not for Fang Yuan's vigilance, the mistress might well have been poisoned to death by those beasts."

"I know."

Cai Cong uttered those four words and left it at that. Meng Baolai grew anxious and cried out, "Marquis, we cannot let this matter rest!"

"Then what do you propose should be done?"

"It's not as if we can't afford to kill. Since they've made their move, we should strike back. With our men, sneaking into an estate to assassinate someone is easier than drinking water." Meng Baolai said indignantly. They were killers by trade, after all, and taking lives was as simple as eating a meal to them.

"Killing is easy enough, but as you've seen, a blind massacre would have landed your marquis in a dead end. If the pox hadn't been eradicated this time, your marquis would truly have left no bones behind."

Cai Cong said with a chuckle. Assassinating the mother of a reigning marquis of the realm was an act that challenged everyone's bottom line. Regardless of whose hand was behind it, Cai Cong was certain that Li Shimin kept a ledger recording this debt, and every official harbored a thorn in their heart: *If they can murder the Cai family today, they could slaughter my family tomorrow!* This time, their enemies had simply gone too far.

The distance from this place to Chang'an was mere two hundred miles. Even if someone dared to brave universal condemnation to strike at Cai Cong, they would never choose this exact moment. Cai Cong emerged from the mountains and stepped onto the imperial highway.

On the highway, the Magistrate of Lantian County stood anxiously scanning the distance. Catching sight of Cai Cong's carriage far off, he broke into a radiant smile.

"Your humble subordinate, Wu Zhipeng, Magistrate of Lantian County, respectfully greets the Marquis!"

"Lantian territory is still a dozen miles away, why have you come here?" Cai Cong did not get out of the carriage. Meng Baolai, riding alongside, asked coldly.

"The Marquis has eradicated the pox and enjoys the reverence of all the people. Hearing that the Marquis was passing through this region, your subordinate specifically came to pay his respects." The magistrate said deferentially. Now he was meek and submissive, playing the part of an ardent admirer; yet who could have known that just months ago, he had been shouting slogans for the aristocratic clans, submitting fifteen consecutive memorials begging Li Shimin to execute Cai Cong?

"A county magistrate leaving his jurisdiction without cause is a crime! I shall impeach you to the Ministry of Personnel."

Meng Baolai didn't even glance at him, whipped his horse into motion, and rode right past him, leaving Wu Zhipeng standing frozen in place with a livid expression, trembling all over. He had cast aside his pride, only to find that Cai Cong wouldn't even spare him a look.

"Meng Baolai, this magistrate seems quite decent, and he even came to welcome us. Aren't you being a bit heartless?"

Li Tai poked his head out of the carriage, speaking with excitement. This was the first time he had ever felt so majestic—not because he was an imperial prince, but because he had helped eradicate the pox.

"With all due respect to Your Highness, this running dog is only crawling to us now to beg for mercy. Earlier, he repeatedly memorialized His Majesty demanding our marquis's head. Now that the marquis has risen again, he comes to suck up. Bah, as if things are ever that easy!"

"Damn, I had no idea he was that kind of scoundrel. I truly hope Imperial Father strips him of his official post," Li Tai said indignantly, flumping back down inside the carriage.

"Stop tossing about. Another sixty miles and we'll see your imperial father and the others. If you wrinkle your robes, see if the imperial censors don't impeach you."

Cai Cong said with unhurried composure. Li Tai was startled, quickly smoothing out his garments and sitting up straight and proper. What he feared most was the nagging of the censors—there was simply no winning with them, and if your attitude in admitting fault was lacking, they would report you all over again within minutes.

Li Shimin's encampment was pitched thirty miles outside the walls of Chang'an, with patrols of soldiers constantly moving to and fro, forbidding anyone from approaching.