Chapter Seventy: Rumors

The old Shi family shop in He Pulao City remained as bustling as ever. The crowds at the entrance surged like a tide; inside, glasses clinked and the raucous voices of merchants echoed ceaselessly. Shi Chongzhi stood at the counter, somewhat absent-minded, watching the traders. In earlier days, each of them represented a glittering golden coin from Fulin, but now—who could tell if among them hid a Tibetan mongrel?

That was the scornful term the foreign merchants used for Tibetan currency: despite its high impurity and shoddy craftsmanship, it was forced upon the market as equivalent to the gold and silver coins from the western regions. Since the locals refused to accept it, the Tibetans promoted it with the edge of a blade—a true mongrel coin.

Grumbling inwardly, Shi Chongzhi knew that, in reality, if he encountered Tibetans, he still had to bow low. On their turf, how could he stand tall? No one would jeopardize business, or their own life, for a matter of pride.

“Shopkeeper, is there an upper room available?”

A booming voice jolted him from his reverie. He saw that a towering man had entered, accompanied by two burly, wary guards—true professionals, by the look of them.

Shi Chongzhi said nothing and avoided staring; the shopkeeper greeted them instead. Just by the man’s accent, Shi Chongzhi could tell he was a northern merchant, speaking a somewhat rough Bolü dialect—perhaps Sogdian was his native tongue.

“Sir, you’re in luck. We have one room left, just vacated. Will you be staying long, or just for a short rest?” the shopkeeper asked courteously.

“Just for a few days,” the big man replied, handing over a document with a practiced smile typical of those who traveled far and wide.

“So, you’re Lord Kang from Western Prefecture. The room is upstairs, second on the right—Room B.” The shopkeeper spoke as he hung a token behind the counter and flipped over a sign that read “Fully Booked.”

As he was about to call a staff member to guide the guests upstairs, Shi Chongzhi suddenly rose.

“No need to send anyone. I’ll take them myself.”

He took the document, glanced at it nonchalantly, then handed it back to Lord Kang. That brief look confirmed his suspicions: he had seen this document days ago, and the events that followed were all connected to this Lord Kang from Western Prefecture.

The second floor was arranged according to the heavenly stems and earthly branches; Room B was the second room on the right. Shi Chongzhi opened the door himself, introducing the room warmly and thoroughly, while his eyes flickered outside.

No one had followed them.

Lord Kang gave a subtle signal, and the two guards, disguised as servants, stationed themselves at the entrance, pressing their ears to the lintel to listen for any commotion outside.

Lord Kang turned, sizing Shi Chongzhi up with a faint, knowing smile. Now, everything was clear.

“May I ask who you are?” Shi Chongzhi hadn’t spoken before Lord Kang posed the question.

“My surname is Shi, I am the proprietor here.”

With identities matched, Lord Kang relaxed his guard. “We’ve come at the order of Fifth Lord to find you, Sir Shi. There are matters for which we require your assistance.”

Just as he expected. Shi Chongzhi’s expression grew troubled. The guest presented an official pass and mentioned Fifth Lord—involved in nothing good, surely.

“To tell you the truth, last time, Fifth Lord and Second Lord stirred up quite a storm in this city. We’ve all been marked by the Tibetans. Whatever you wish to do, it will not be easy.”

“If it were easy, we wouldn’t seek your help. To be honest, we are only the vanguard; the main force follows behind.”

Shi Chongzhi was startled. “The Tang army is mobilizing?”

“The troops of the Four Garrisons of Anxi are but a hundred miles away,” Lord Kang nodded, revealing the truth to reassure the locals. Otherwise, why would they risk their lives?

Shi Chongzhi’s face showed no joy. When war broke out, it was the merchants who suffered most. Whether Tibetans or Tang, neither could be offended. But at this point, could he refuse?

“Whatever you need, just say it. If I am able, I will not decline.” He gritted his teeth, reasoning that since he’d already offended the Tibetans, he could not afford to alienate the Tang as well. After all, the Tang controlled the fate of the Sogdians in the Western Regions; if need be, he would abandon the Tibetan line.

Lord Kang breathed a sigh of relief. They were newcomers, only three in number—whatever they hoped to accomplish, it would be impossible without the help of a local like Shi Chongzhi.

In the Tibetan official residence in the city, Shangjiezan sat with a dark expression, fixedly staring at a kneeling Bolü girl. His gaze was predatory, making her tremble uncontrollably until, at last, he returned to himself.

The girl, misunderstanding his intentions, believed he would do something to her. But he was in no mood for that—not to mention, such a young girl was beneath his notice.

“You—go call them in.”

She looked up in terror, confusion in her eyes.

Realizing she didn’t understand Tibetan, Shangjiezan softened his tone and switched to Bolü dialect. “Go summon the officials. Tell them I request their presence.”

She understood at once, hurriedly responding and running out. Moments later, several Bolü men entered with her.

“We do not know what instructions you have for us, sir,” the lead man said, bowing with the others.

“Have you all heard the rumors in the city?” Shangjiezan’s voice was low and ominous, causing the men to pause.

“Which rumors do you mean, sir?”

Shangjiezan suddenly raised his head, scanning their faces. “Playing dumb, are you? As if you don’t know.”

The men exchanged glances, immediately grasping his meaning. Rumors had swept the city: some said Tang armies had arrived, some claimed the Tang had seized the Bo Yi River, and the bridgehead garrison and Xidongzan’s cavalry had been annihilated. The stories were vivid, and they had certainly heard them—but now, they could only feign ignorance.

“Are they about the Tang?” the lead man asked, trembling.

Shangjiezan snorted. “You must quickly seize the rumor-mongers and execute them publicly to warn the masses.”

“This...” The men hesitated, the leader daring to remind him, “All our troops have been taken away by Dongben. Our men are all at the Bo Yi River; only a few hundred remain in the city, barely enough to maintain order. We don’t even know where these rumors originate. With just us, how can we investigate?”

“Hm? You refuse?” Shangjiezan’s face darkened, his gaze menacing.

“No, sir, we dare not. Perhaps, if you send word to Dongben to return some troops, with an army in the city, the people won’t believe rumors so easily.”

Shangjiezan looked at the lead man in surprise. He dared to play games—proof that the rumors had unsettled the city’s elite; they no longer trusted Tibetan rule here.

If he had troops, he would seize these men and their families without hesitation. But now, he could only rely on reassurance and hold out until Xidongzan returned.

A plan forming, Shangjiezan relaxed his expression. “With the vine bridge in hand, the Tang cannot cross. Your Dongben will return soon. For these few days, you must work hard to prevent rumors from spreading. Once the situation is stable, all will be rewarded in due course.”

“Thank you for your consideration, sir. We will not fail in our duty.”

The men bowed respectfully and withdrew. As the Bolü girl escorted them out, the leader glanced at her meaningfully. She nodded imperceptibly, daring not to utter a word.

“What now? Shall we really investigate the city’s people?”

“We must make a show of it,” the leader replied disdainfully. “The Tibetans are so afraid, the rumors are probably true. If the Tang attack, are we to die for them?”

Once they had left the official residence and walked some distance, the leader snorted coldly and glanced back. “Are the women of the Modojido family also theirs to slaughter as they please?”