Chapter Thirty-Two: Treat Others with Sincerity Ouyang Rong (Wishing all the brothers a Happy New Year!)

Ouyang Rong felt that while some people were quite respectful, others were utterly devoid of decorum. It seemed that, in the eyes of certain figures in Longcheng, a seventh-rank magistrate of the Great Zhou Dynasty was merely a beggar kneeling for scraps.

Inside the grand hall of Yuanming Tower, the maid serving as the proctor for the donation drive announced in a crisp voice: "This donation drive has concluded with thirteen contributors, totaling seven hundred and eighty strings of cash. Of this, one hundred and thirty strings were raised for Longcheng’s water conservancy projects, and six hundred and fifty strings were collected as 'stationery fees' for the magistrate."

Under the gaze—be it direct or peripheral—of everyone in the hall, Ouyang Rong, seated in the front row, suddenly turned around. He did not look at the local gentry and magnates filling the room, but rather at Xie Lingjiang, catching the worried expression in her eyes.

"Junior sister, it seems the commendation I gave you was too light. Not only are you the lead donor, but you are also the wealthiest patron on the board. However, the most valuable thing I have on me right now is that pearl; I shall compensate you next time."

Seeing his sincere smile, Xie Lingjiang opened her mouth to speak, but found no words. She merely shook her head. "I am fine. As long as you are safe, senior brother."

"What could possibly happen to me?" he asked with curiosity.

Under the scrutiny of the crowd, whose minds were racing with various agendas, Ouyang Rong rubbed his face and stood up. He gathered the hem of his official robes to keep them from dragging on the floor and walked slowly toward the stage. Xie Lingjiang followed in silence, keeping her eyes fixed forward.

"Thank you for your hard work, young lady."

The young magistrate offered a sincere word of thanks to the proctor. The girl, barely in her teens, blushed under his gaze and stepped off the stage with a cheerful heart, leaving the magistrate alone to stand before the two red donation trays, facing the entire room.

He lowered his head to inspect them, reaching out to weigh the water conservancy tray on the left, then the private "stationery fee" tray on the right. The former felt light, holding only one hundred and thirty strings, while the latter was five times as heavy, laden with weight.

He was not in the slightest bit angry. He raised his head calmly, as if asking himself: "So, this is how highly everyone regards me: the vital water conservancy projects of the imperial court and the county office are only one-fifth as important as bribing me."

The gentry and wealthy merchants below remained silent, some pointedly avoiding his gaze. Liu Ziwen, sitting toward the back with his arms crossed, stared unblinkingly at the calm young magistrate. The young master of the Liu clan maintained an appearance of harmless sincerity, his eyes even tinged with a hint of worry—as if he regretted not being able to satisfy his local official due to limited means. Indeed, the emotions a person’s eyes can convey are remarkably rich; one could discern them as easily as one could understand the silent cue to change posture.

However, what Liu Ziwen did not know was that Ouyang Rong, like him, was a man who "treated others with sincerity."

The young magistrate extended a finger and shook it at the room. "But among you, there is perhaps a fool who thinks himself clever and has made a mistake." He paused. "I did not come here to beg. You are the ones who are begging."

Once those words were spoken, the silence became absolute. The gentry and merchants exchanged bewildered glances.

*Creak.* The young magistrate walked calmly to a grand armchair, dragged it onto the stage, sat down, and looked down at the crowd, saying nothing more.

After this unsettling display, there was a long, expectant silence on the stage. Gradually, the expressions of many gentry members turned mocking, and they began to whisper among themselves.

"Ahem." Liu Ziwen coughed at the right moment to quell the noise. He glanced at the scholar on the stage, sighed softly, and stood up. "Magistrate, donations are a voluntary matter within one's means. The sudden floods this year have made things difficult for everyone; we have already done our best. However, it is our bounden duty as humble citizens to share the burdens of the imperial court and your excellency. Our Liu clan still has some surplus grain, and we will cooperate with you to set up more porridge stalls in the city."

Ouyang Rong ignored him. His junior sister was pouring tea into the cup on the table before him with a long-spouted pot. Her hand was rock-steady, and Ouyang Rong watched the thin, graceful stream of water with great interest.

Being publicly ignored, even the usually mild-mannered Liu Ziwen could not help but frown. *I am offering you a way out, yet you refuse to take it? Are you truly as stubborn as a block of wood?*

"Magistrate?"

"Shh." Ouyang Rong suddenly raised a finger to his lips, signaling for quiet. His eyes remained fixed on the teacup, as if mesmerized by the dark green tea leaves swirling in the boiling water.

It was not just Liu Ziwen and the others who thought he was acting strangely; even Xie Lingjiang was confused. Curiously, she tilted her head to see what was so magical about the tea. Naturally, it was nothing but ordinary tea.

Seeing the young magistrate motionless on the stage, Liu Ziwen chuckled, shook his head, and turned to signal his colleagues that it was time to leave. At the same time, the young master of the Liu clan stood up and reached for his own cup of cold tea to take one last sip.

But his fingers stopped in mid-air, and his eyes were "nailed" to the surface of the water in his cup. Like him, several other younger, more perceptive merchants froze. They stared at the concentric ripples spreading across the surface of the tea—ripples that possessed a distinct rhythm.

*This is... is there a tremor in the earth? No! It is horse hooves!*

Liu Ziwen jerked his head up to look at Ouyang Rong, who sat leisurely on the stage. The latter had now risen to his full height, drained his teacup, and walked off the stage. He walked over and thoughtfully pushed open the windows on the second floor of Yuanming Tower.

The bustling street below had been cleared.

At the end of the empty thoroughfare, three hundred armored cavalrymen appeared. Even though they had deliberately softened the sound of their approach, the rolling thunder of hooves appeared to the gentry on the second floor like a tidal wave crashing toward them.

Yet, as this rushing force arrived, a sudden gesture from the leading officer caused them to halt abruptly in front of Yuanming Tower. They dismounted with perfect, uniform precision.

*Elite troops! How could he have the authority to mobilize troops? Is he attempting treason?* The pupils of Liu Ziwen and the others contracted.

Immediately, Yan Liulang, who had been missing since the donation drive began, appeared with a stern-looking officer and approached the young magistrate by the window. The officer’s face was cold as he cupped his hands and spoke in a booming voice:

"Magistrate Ouyang, I am Qin Heng, Captain of the Jiangzhou Prefecture Garrison. I have arrived with three hundred cavalrymen under orders to assist in your investigation."

Ouyang Rong, as if he had prepared this long ago, pointed directly toward the county office and said in a clear voice, "General Qin, go immediately to lock down the eastern storehouse of the Longcheng County Office. Do not let a single fly in without my direct order."

"As you command!" Qin Heng descended the stairs without hesitation, his eyes fixed forward, never sparing a glance at the shivering lambs in the hall.

A few elderly gentry members trembled, trying to curry favor. "Magistrate, you... surely this is all a misunderstanding, haha..."

Ouyang Rong waved his hand, offering a gentle, consoling tone. "A trivial matter, just auditing the accounts. Don't worry, elders. Do not let your imaginations run wild. Go home and get some rest."

He smiled at the pale-faced Liu Ziwen and the terrified merchants, then turned to leave with his junior sister. Before stepping out of the front door, the young magistrate seemed to remember something and offered a final, kind-hearted reminder:

"By the way, if there is even the slightest discrepancy in the records regarding rent, labor, or agricultural and commercial taxes, or if there is any sign of tax evasion, I will have your entire clans confiscated."

The entire hall fell into a deathly silence.