Chapter 28: Let's See Who Outwits Whom!

Around noon, within the offices of the Outlaws’ Bureau, Li Zhao, Jiang Hao, White Bun, and the four chief guards had gathered to discuss expanding their refined salt business.

Up to this point, their operations had been rather modest—extracting small quantities of refined salt in the underground cellars and selling them through the Zhou family’s salt shop. The proceeds were meager, just enough to barely sustain the expenses of the Outlaws’ organization.

But now, things were different. With the support of Wang Yuanbao, the greatest merchant in the realm, their salt operation could grow on a much grander scale.

Li Zhao envisioned establishing a large-scale pickled vegetable workshop northwest of Chang’an, near Outlaws’ Village. Of course, the pickles would merely serve as a cover; the true goal was to refine vast quantities of salt.

He planned to select diligent, sharp, and discreet family members of the Outlaws to work in the workshop, implementing an assembly-line production method—each person responsible for a single step, with strict instructions not to pry into others’ duties.

In this way, they could speed up production, prevent the secret of refining salt from leaking, and allow the families of the Outlaws to earn extra income—a triple gain.

Once the refined salt was produced, they would leverage the Wang family’s vast trade network to distribute it across the country, amassing wealth and, in the process, establishing secret Outlaws’ strongholds in each region, recruiting followers, and expanding their influence.

Within a decade, the Outlaws could be found throughout the thirteen provinces of the Great Tang, even reaching into Turkic lands, Tibet, Nanzhao, and Goguryeo—after all, people everywhere need salt.

By then, even as a low-ranking ninth-class official, Li Zhao would be able to stir the winds of the world and act as an uncrowned king.

He chuckled inwardly. This was a grand game indeed.

Moreover, through the Wang family’s commercial channels, Li Zhao had ordered large quantities of fresh tea leaves from the Jiangnan region. After more than a year of drinking boiled tea, even he had grown weary of the taste—now they could finally enjoy the fragrant, mellow flavor of properly brewed tea. If the tea business prospered, its profits might rival those of the salt trade—he grinned at the prospect.

…

While they were deep in discussion, a commotion erupted in the courtyard. The White Day Rat burst in, his face full of indignation.

“What’s happened?”

“Reporting to you, young master, two of our brothers have been beaten!”

“Is that so? Let me see!”

Li Zhao hurried to the courtyard and found, as expected, two Outlaws stretched out on planks, bloodied from head to toe—one with a broken left arm, the other with a right leg twisted at an unnatural angle. Their injuries were grave; even if they survived, they would likely be left with lasting disabilities.

These two—Sun Liu and Niu Er—were not only hardworking and loyal, but also highly capable. Li Zhao had even planned to promote them to squad leaders, only for disaster to strike unexpectedly.

“Tell me, who did this?”

“It was officers from the Jingzhao Prefecture, led by a man named Wang Biao!”

“Oh? Why did they attack our people?”

“Sun Liu and Niu Er were patrolling the Western Market today. Afterward, they went to a small tavern for a meal. Halfway through, Wang Biao and more than a dozen officers barged in, demanding that Sun and Niu give up their seats.

There were plenty of empty seats in the tavern—this was clearly just an excuse to pick a fight. The two tried to reason with them, but the officers started beating them, striking viciously. If not for some of our other brothers passing by and coming to their aid, Sun and Niu would surely have been beaten to death!”

One of the Outlaws recounted the events, his voice thick with outrage.

These days in Chang’an, it was the Outlaws who patrolled the streets, maintained order, and caught thieves—all the dirty, dangerous, and thankless tasks fell to them. Meanwhile, the officers of the Jingzhao Prefecture enjoyed generous pay and did little actual work, caring only to bully the people and line their own pockets.

Now, those who did honest work were the ones beaten by those who shirked their duties—was there any justice left in this world?

“We can’t let this go. Let’s go to the Prefecture and lodge a formal complaint!”

“Bah, they’re all in league together. Complaining will do nothing. We should gather all our brothers, take up our weapons, and settle the score with Wang Biao and his lot. Kill one and it’s worth it; kill two and we profit. Our brothers must not swallow this indignity!”

“That’s right—let’s fight!”

…

“No one is to act rashly. You will all await the young master’s orders!”

---

The Outlaws were seething with anger, weapons half-drawn, ready to march against the officers of the Prefecture, when Jiang Hao, ever the steady one, managed to restrain them.

Hundreds of eyes fixed on Li Zhao, awaiting his decision.

Li Zhao’s face was dark with contemplation. He knew he faced a thorny dilemma. If he went to the Prefecture to file a complaint, the officers would surely deny everything, perhaps even accuse the Outlaws of provoking the incident. Prefect Ji Wen would undoubtedly side with his own men, and it would be their side that suffered for it.

If he led his people to seek vengeance and beat Wang Biao and his cronies, once the Prefecture investigated, they would again bear the brunt of retribution.

But if he did nothing, if he failed to stand up for his men, how could he ever win their loyalty or unite their hearts? If morale faltered, what future would the Outlaws have?

Ji Wen, that wily old fox—cunning, ruthless, and venomous—had set a perfect trap, a three-way snare. How could Li Zhao respond?

“Send a team to carry Sun Liu and Niu Er into the city immediately. Find the best physician, use the finest medicines—spare no expense. They must be healed, no matter the cost. Give their families two hundred taels of silver to help them settle, and continue to pay their wages during their recovery. Should any further difficulties arise, report to me at once.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Send another team to shadow Wang Biao’s group, track their every move. We will not let this insult stand. But until I give the order, no one is to act without my command. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

Having soothed his people, Li Zhao retreated indoors with Jiang Hao, the White Day Rat, and the four chief guards to devise a plan for vengeance.

To seek revenge, one must know both oneself and one’s enemy.

“Who exactly is this Wang Biao?”

“He’s the top lackey of Prefect Ji Wen of Jingzhao, a vicious, unscrupulous brute who would kick in a widow’s door, rob a pauper’s grave, beat the blind, curse the mute—you name it, he’s done it. He’s also exceedingly greedy.”

“Greedy, you say?”

“Yes, he’ll do anything for money—silver is dearer to him than his own parents.”

“Excellent. We’ll use that to teach him a painful lesson, and avenge our wounded brothers.”

Li Zhao patted his belly, letting the schemes within roil to the surface. If it was a contest of cunning, he would see who could outfox whom.

…

“Fetch the Earth-Burrower Rat, the Thousand-Faced Rat, and the River-Turning Rat. I’ll need all three for this.”

“Yes, sir!”

Soon, the three rats arrived, each with a healthy glow, clearly enjoying the good life since joining the Outlaws. There was wine, meat, silver, and, best of all, a level of respect they’d never known before. Wherever they went, people greeted them with honor. They deeply appreciated Li Zhao—he was a leader worth serving, a man of true charisma.

“Greetings, young master.”

“Good. I have a task for you three. Are you willing to serve?”

“We are at your service!”

“Good. Come closer.”

Li Zhao whispered his plan, and the three nodded repeatedly before setting off to carry out their assignment.

Now, all that remained was to wait for the right moment.

Heaven favored their designs—three days later, the opportunity for revenge presented itself.

---

South of Chang’an, in the northwest corner of Da’an Ward, stood Liu’s Tavern, run by a pretty young widow in her twenties. After her husband’s death, she opened the tavern to support her two children, rising early and working late, pouring her heart into the business. Thanks to the help of her neighbors, the tavern managed to scrape by. It didn’t make much money, but it was enough for her small family.

Of course, things would have been far better if not for the constant harassment of certain troublemakers.

“Five heads… six sixes… eight horses—you lose!”

“Drink, come on! Hahaha!”

Inside Liu’s Tavern, Wang Biao and more than a dozen officers had taken over two tables, feasting on mutton head and offal, drinking and gambling with abandon.

These past few days, they had deliberately sought out trouble with the Outlaws, crippling two of them and earning the secret praise of the Prefect, along with a reward of thirty taels of silver. Naturally, they decided to celebrate.

“They say the new Outlaw Chief is formidable, but he’s nothing special. We beat up his men and he doesn’t even dare utter a word—just hides in his shell like a turtle!”

“Maybe he’s clever—knows he can’t win in a fight, so he’d rather play the turtle and keep his life!”

“Well, let’s keep looking for trouble. Every time we see an Outlaw, we’ll beat him. Even if he is a turtle, we’ll smash his shell, haha!”

…

After injuring the Outlaws, the Prefecture had prepared for every contingency. Whether Li Zhao complained or sought a fight, he was doomed to fail.

But Li Zhao never showed up. Disappointed, Wang Biao and his men decided to keep provoking him—everyone’s patience has a limit, and sooner or later, Li Zhao would snap. When that happened, his end would come.

To make a long story short:

As night fell and Wang Biao and his men finished eating and drinking, they called for the bill to be put on their tab. Wang Biao even groped the young widow behind the counter before swaggering out of the tavern, drunk.

But they had not gone far when they noticed a suspicious figure lurking in a nearby alley, glancing about nervously as if hiding something beneath his robe.

A thief.

A thief carrying stolen goods.

With more than twenty years as a constable, Wang Biao’s eye was sharp.

He had little interest in ordinary thieves, but a thief with loot was another matter.

“What are you doing?”

“I… I’m just an honest farmer from outside the city…”

“An honest farmer—then why did you run when you saw us? Search him!”

The officers rushed forward and seized the shifty fellow—a man in his early thirties, dressed plainly and looking every inch the simple peasant.

They searched him and found a bundle in his arms. Unwrapped, it revealed a three-legged incense burner embossed with floral designs—surprisingly heavy, at least four or five pounds.

A yellow-bronze censer? No, it was far too heavy for that.

It was a censer made of pure gold!