Chapter Fifteen: Yang Hongwen

That night, the city of Guangzhou was destined to be far from peaceful. Outside the gates of the Military Governor’s Residence, Yang Hongwen, the junior officer on night duty, had just received urgent news from his men: there had been a gang fight at the docks, and, more critically, a fire had broken out—one so fierce and unprecedented that its damage was beyond measure.

Yang Hongwen, though young, was already regarded as an outstanding talent in the entire Lingnan region. His background was anything but ordinary—his father, Li Ru, served as chief secretary under Military Governor Li Tiao. While not a high-ranking post, it placed him firmly among the governor’s trusted inner circle. As for Yang Hongwen himself, his youth belied his achievements: it was true his family connections helped him secure his position, but his reputation in Guangzhou was built on his own merit. Raised on the teachings of the Confucian classics, he was equally adept with bow, horse, and blade. Even Governor Li Tiao held him in high esteem, naming him a rare talent of both letters and arms, with a future as boundless as the sea.

“Jingyi! What’s going on?” Li Ru arrived in haste from the nearby Yang residence, and at the sight of hundreds of armed guards gathered outside the gates, he felt an ominous foreboding. Before he even reached his son, he signaled him over, pulling him aside with a grave expression. “What has happened to require such urgency? Where is your Uncle Li? Why summon so many guards in the middle of the night?”

He glanced through the open gates as he spoke. Inside, rows of armored guards stood at attention, lanterns blazing, and a few mounted officers were patrolling with utmost vigilance.

“Father, there’s trouble at the docks, but the details are unclear,” Yang Hongwen replied, his brow furrowed in concern. “Uncle Li is in the front hall, with several advisors. Word came from our patrols that a gang fight broke out, causing a massive fire. We don’t yet know which factions were involved. More importantly, Uncle Li just received news that both the Maritime Commissioner and the Inspector have deployed troops—they should be on their way even now.”

“Inspector Cao Wei? What business does he have meddling in dock affairs?” Li Ru muttered instinctively, then suddenly stiffened, his eyes widening with shock as he locked gazes with his son. “Could it be this is their doing? Are they using this as a pretext to stage a coup?”

“It’s only a suspicion, but not impossible,” Yang Hongwen answered gravely, lowering his voice. “Father, the situation is unclear. I saw Uncle Li—he looked deeply troubled. He’s already sent for reinforcements, but as you know, not all the city’s troops are under his command. If the Inspector and the Maritime Commissioner have joined forces, things could become dire. None of the advisors have any good ideas; Uncle Li is at his wit’s end. You should go to him at once. I still need to lead the men to the docks to assess the situation.”

“I understand. Be careful—stay safe!” Li Ru patted his son’s shoulder with concern, though his expression only grew heavier. He knew full well that most so-called advisors were wise only after the fact—loud in their boasts, but when real trouble struck, they wilted like deflated balloons.

“Brother Zhongye, wait!” As the father and son were about to part, Zhang Kuang, founder of the Zhang Trading Guild, appeared with a group of followers. Seeing Li Ru about to enter, he hurriedly called out.

“Uncle Zhang!” Yang Hongwen stepped forward to greet him, then glanced at the proud and unruly young master, Zhang Mingzhi. He could only shake his head in bemused resignation before greeting him as well. “Shouyi, you’re here too!”

“Nothing to do, just came to see the excitement,” Zhang Mingzhi shrugged, looking both impatient and intrigued, as if not entirely willing to be out so late. But upon seeing Yang Hongwen in full military garb, his eyes lit up with interest, and with a sly grin, he asked, “Big Brother Yang, looks like you’re on official business—can I come along?”

The implication was obvious, but Yang Hongwen dared not agree to anything so serious on a whim. Torn between duty and the hopeful look in Zhang Mingzhi’s eyes, he hesitated, but Zhang Kuang intervened with a stern rebuke. “Enough nonsense! Can’t you see Jingyi has military duties? Army affairs are no place for you.”

Undaunted by his father’s scolding, Zhang Mingzhi merely smirked and gazed up at the starry night as if nothing had happened, apparently finding the vast sky far more interesting than the adults’ concerns.

“Brother Fuyong, you’re here too,” Li Ru said, moving quickly to Zhang Kuang’s side and nodding in greeting. Before the other could respond, he urged, “Come inside, we’ll talk as we go.”

“Big Brother Yang, you should get out more,” Zhang Mingzhi called out, heedless of the elders’ presence or decorum, sneering at Yang Hongwen’s scholarly habits. As he passed, he leaned in to whisper, “The other day at Yun Yin Pavilion, there were a few charming ladies. Next time, let’s go together.”

With a meaningful smile, he patted Yang Hongwen on the shoulder and hurried after the elders, waving a casual farewell while leaving his childhood friend to smile wryly in his wake. But who could blame him, given the financial power his family wielded?

Yang Hongwen quickly gathered his thoughts, straightened his demeanor, and turned to the waiting guards. With solemn authority, he ordered, “Listen up, all of you! By order of the Military Governor, we proceed to the docks to investigate the fire. Should you encounter any suspects, or those who defy military orders, you are to deal with them on the spot—no mercy for traitors!”

“Yes, sir!” came the resounding response from the fully armed guards.

“Move out!” Yang Hongwen swung onto his horse, and as his men mounted up behind him, he reminded them, “Stay sharp—this matter is of great importance!”

...

Perhaps because of the sudden fire at the docks, the city’s night patrols had already started imposing curfew on their own initiative, even before receiving official orders. Drunken stragglers wandering the streets met with harsh fates: unlike on ordinary nights, the patrols were not inclined to leniency. One group of drunken revelers even tried to resist, only to be swiftly subdued—beaten back to sobriety, stripped down to their undergarments, and left to shiver in the cold night air, exchanging bruised and resentful glances.

“Brother Li, something’s strange in the city tonight,” remarked Saiyijade as he and Ding Li hurried toward the Fanbang district. The very air seemed heavy, as though pressing down on them, making it hard to breathe.

“It’s normal to be nervous your first time in a situation like this,” Ding Li replied lightly, glancing back at his anxious companions with a reassuring smile. Yet his instincts told him otherwise. The streets were eerily quiet—the howl of the distant sea wind was all that could be heard. Even the usual drunks and rabble-rousers had vanished.

“What’s that sound? Hoofbeats?” Suddenly, Ding Li halted and raised his hand, signaling the group to stop. As their footsteps ceased, he listened intently—his expression turning grave, then easing a little. From the direction of the hoofbeats, he could tell it was not a coordinated search for them, or the sound would come from all sides.

In the silvery moonlight, their group stood out clearly against the orderly rows of houses—there was nowhere to hide. Soon, flickering torchlight appeared, moving rapidly toward them like will-o’-the-wisps.

“Who goes there? The city is under curfew—stand where you are for inspection!” Yang Hongwen, leading his riders, was the first to spot Ding Li and his companions. Waving his torch, he shouted a warning as his men closed in.

“What do we do, Brother Li?” Saiyijade and the others were thrown into a panic. To be riding through the city at night meant you were either wealthy or part of the authorities, and these armed riders were clearly not idle nobles out for fun. They were the ones who had set the docks ablaze, and for these first-time arsonists, their bravado had vanished in the face of real danger.

“Calm down! They said it’s just a curfew—probably because of the fire. Just keep quiet and act natural, and we’ll get through this,” Ding Li whispered, his brow furrowing. The others could only nod, hearts pounding in their throats, barely able to speak.

In moments, Yang Hongwen’s cavalry had surrounded them in a half-circle, but made no further moves—there was nothing suspicious about their plain clothes or demeanor.

Yang Hongwen, steeped in Confucian propriety despite his military attire, addressed them with courtesy. “I am Yang Hongwen, Junior Officer of the Military Governor’s Guard, on orders to investigate the situation at the docks. Who are you? The city has been under curfew for some time—why are you still out?”