Gu Yong watched Zhang Xin's departing figure for a long moment, then slowly withdrew his gaze.
The weight of responsibility now rested squarely on his shoulders.
Quanzhou.
A single county—but beneath its surface, currents ran deep.
After Zhang Xin left, Gu Yong did not act rashly.
Instead, he summoned Xianyu Fu and Cao Xing, spreading out a rough map of Quanzhou within the county office.
"The powerful clans here control salt and iron," Gu Yong said calmly. "That means their roots are deep, and their influence extends into every corner of the county."
Xianyu Fu frowned. "If we move too quickly, we might alert them."
"Exactly," Gu Yong nodded. "So we don't move—yet."
Cao Xing crossed his arms. "Then what do we do? Just wait?"
Gu Yong smiled faintly.
"Since they think they've deceived us… let them keep thinking so."
Over the next few days, Quanzhou appeared calm on the surface.
Gu Yong handled official affairs as if nothing unusual had happened—reviewing documents, settling minor disputes, even occasionally criticizing clerks for trivial errors.
To outsiders, it seemed like business as usual.
But beneath that calm—
Investigations had already begun.
At night, Cao Xing led small groups of soldiers, quietly moving through the county.
They did not wear armor.
They did not carry banners.
They asked no direct questions.
Instead, they listened.
To dockworkers.
To transport laborers.
To the lowest servants of the salt and iron offices.
Piece by piece, a clearer picture emerged.
Three major clans.
All intertwined.
All involved.
And the so-called "pirates"?
Just a convenient mask.
Meanwhile, Xianyu Fu focused on the accounts.
With the ledgers Zhang Xin had already exposed as falsified, he began cross-checking records—grain shipments, iron output, salt distribution.
The discrepancies were staggering.
"Not just theft…" Xianyu Fu muttered one night. "This is an entire shadow operation."
Gu Yong nodded.
"They've turned the state monopoly into their private treasury."
A few days later, a report arrived quietly.
Cao Xing placed it on the table.
"They're moving."
Gu Yong raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"They've heard about the navy."
Xianyu Fu chuckled softly. "Just as expected."
Gu Yong unfolded the report.
Several shipments—supposedly legitimate—were being redirected.
Hidden routes.
Night movements.
Armed escorts.
Not the behavior of honest merchants.
Gu Yong's eyes sharpened.
"The snake… has come out."
He stood up slowly.
"No more waiting."
That night, orders were issued.
Cao Xing mobilized the hundred armored soldiers Zhang Xin had left behind.
At the same time, messengers rode out under cover of darkness.
Not to the prefectural capital—
But to nearby points where Zhang Liao's forces could respond if needed.
A net was being woven.
Before dawn, Gu Yong stood in the courtyard, holding the imperial staff.
The dragon head gleamed faintly in the early light.
Xianyu Fu stepped beside him.
"Are you certain?" he asked.
Gu Yong's expression was calm.
"They dared to block the Prefect's carriage."
"They dared to falsify state accounts."
"They dared to impersonate pirates and intercept imperial goods."
A brief pause.
"They've already chosen their fate."
Cao Xing approached, fully armed.
"The men are ready."
Gu Yong nodded.
Then, lifting the imperial staff, he spoke:
"By the authority of the Son of Heaven—"
His voice cut through the morning stillness.
"We arrest traitors."
Moments later—
The gates of Quanzhou burst open.
Soldiers surged into the streets.
Their targets were precise.
Their movements swift.
No hesitation.
No mercy.
In the residences of the great clans, chaos erupted.
Doors were smashed open.
Hidden ledgers seized.
Armed retainers cut down before they could organize.
Some tried to flee—
But the exits had already been sealed.
By the time the sun rose fully over Quanzhou—
It was over.
The clans that had ruled from the shadows were dragged into the light.
Bound.
Kneeling.
Just like the villagers had been before.
Gu Yong stood before them, expression unreadable.
"You controlled the county."
"You controlled the magistrate."
"You controlled the flow of salt and iron."
He raised the imperial staff slightly.
"But you forgot one thing."
A pause.
"This land… belongs to the Han."
And far to the north—
Zhang Xin rode on, unaware of the exact details, but already certain of one thing:
Quanzhou would never be the same again.