Chapter 2

Chapter 2

After swallowing the thick, dark medicinal broth, Ji Chu continued to lie in bed.

After collapsing at the city gate, his attendants hurriedly supported him to the county office, startling the local officials.

Especially Zhang, the outgoing county magistrate, who quickly sent for a doctor.

Amid the chaos, the new magistrate and his team finally settled in.

All that remained was to await Ji Chu’s awakening.

Scholar Li said, “Magistrate Zhang has already prepared the former county residence for you.”

Hearing this, Ji Chu raised an eyebrow.

Zhang was quite shrewd; he had likely been eager to leave, just waiting for his successor to arrive.

“Does Magistrate Zhang know I’m awake?” Ji Chu asked.

“Not yet,” Li replied hurriedly. “You just woke up and are still unfamiliar with things. It’s better to meet after you’ve recovered.”

That would be more proper.

But Ji Chu shook his head. “Go tell him at once. Open the window to air out the medicine’s scent. Zhang should come immediately.”

Li, eight years Ji Chu’s senior and well experienced, sensed that Ji Chu was no longer the naive scholar he once seemed—he was clearly more calculating.

It seemed he had matured greatly on this journey.

Li went to report, and sure enough, Zhang arrived promptly, his face bright with joy.

“Brother Ji, you’re awake! It’s said that good men have heavenly protection—you’ll be fine,” Zhang said eagerly, stroking his beard. “Lie down, no need for formalities.”

Ji Zhenduan brought tea and stood beside Li.

Ji Chu, half-reclining, said without ceremony, “Thank you for your efforts, sir. Luckily you summoned a doctor in time, or my life would have been at stake.”

“Don’t say that. We both rose from humble scholarly beginnings. It’s not easy to take office—better days lie ahead,” Zhang said, noticing Ji Chu’s youth and speaking more warmly than usual.

He seemed about to say more but checked himself, mindful of Ji Chu’s condition.

Ji Chu glanced at Li and Ji Zhen. “My wife and the others are still settling our luggage. Please assist them.”

As the attendants left, Zhang’s surprise turned to delight—he appreciated Ji Chu’s tact.

“Magistrate Zhang, is there something you wish to say?”

With Ji Chu’s invitation, Zhang climbed the steps without hesitation.

He had indeed been wanting to leave for some time.

If not for the handover, he might already be at his new post.

The appointment time was near, but the successor hadn’t appeared.

Zhang was anxious, fearing a delay might bring punishment from superiors.

If luck ran out, he might be dismissed outright, forced to remain in this impoverished Anqiu County for years.

He had hoped the young scholar would arrive safely, but seeing Ji Chu fainted at the gate, Zhang feared the worst.

That was why he rushed to find a doctor—worried no one would take over.

Fortunately, Ji Chu had pulled through.

Zhang had just been concerned that if the new magistrate needed a month or two to recover, his own departure would be delayed.

Now that Ji Chu had given him an opening, Zhang poured out all he wanted to say.

In short: hand over the duties early.

Leave early.

Listening to Zhang describe local affairs, Ji Chu committed everything carefully to memory.

When Zhang finished his tea, and Ji Chu poured himself another, Zhang continued.

“Anqiu County is a small, subordinate county; the magistrate’s rank is only seventh grade.”

“The population is under thirty thousand, with one city, one town, five villages, and two temples.”

“As a border frontier county, there are a dozen or so like it in Longxi’s right circuit. There’s no trade or commercial routes. The court doesn’t expect much development—only stability.”

For a frontier county, stability is paramount.

But seeking only stability means little chance for achievements or growth.

Most officials aim for a spotless record and a swift transfer.

When Ji Chu asked about frequent bandit raids he’d heard of, Zhang coughed lightly, setting down his cup awkwardly.

“Among the dozen or so border counties, ours is the poorest. So... you know the rest.”

Ji Chu was shocked.

So poor that even bandits avoid it?

Anqiu County truly was a hidden gem.

“Poor is good,” Zhang relaxed, warming to their rapport. “Neighboring counties get raided often. You stay the full three years here—if you can transfer, you’ll have a bright future.”

Zhang had grown more eager to leave over his three years.

Ji Chu no longer pressed but asked about Zhang’s next appointment.

Zhang smiled. “I secured a position as a judicial officer in the main city of Quxia Prefecture.”

Anqiu was a subordinate county; the magistrate was seventh grade.

A judicial officer in the prefectural capital held the full seventh rank—a clear promotion.

Ji Chu struggled to sit up and congratulate him.

Zhang helped him lie back down. “No need for formalities. If you need anything, just write to the prefecture.”

Anqiu was under Quxia’s jurisdiction—clear hierarchy.

When Li heard this, he sighed with relief. “Good thing you met with Magistrate Zhang early to arrange the handover. He was eager to leave. Delays would have caused resentment.”

If the transition went poorly, they’d not only fail to cooperate, but make enemies.

Li felt embarrassed, realizing he was almost outpaced by the younger magistrate.

Almost jeopardized an important matter.

But Ji Chu’s thoughts had already moved on to the two assistant magistrates Zhang mentioned privately.

Besides official documents, local relationships and personnel mattered greatly.

Zhang’s gloomy expression revealed this was a major reason for his lack of achievements.

As fellow officials, Zhang liked Ji Chu’s insight and shared more.

“Be wary of the two assistant magistrates here.”

Since Anqiu was a small county with few residents, it had no deputy magistrate or registrar.

Instead, two assistant magistrates doubled as both.

Ji Chu asked, “Assistants usually move with the magistrate. Why have these two stayed so long?”

Zhang’s teeth ground in frustration.

Every new magistrate brought their own assistants—even Ji Chu had Li as his.

Yet these two had remained firmly in place because they were “experienced with old and new regulations.”

Meaning they had been here so long, they knew all the rules and traditions inside out.

They were like iron pillars supporting a revolving line of magistrates.

Even Zhang had to rely on them to manage county affairs.

Over time, he grew dependent and lazy, focusing on promotion instead.

Probably the same for predecessors.

These two had entrenched themselves for decades, with most clerks and staff obeying them.

Each magistrate respected them cautiously.

The revolving magistrates were hollowed out by these permanent bureaucrats.

Ji Chu understood.

“What about their characters?” he asked sincerely.

Zhang grimaced, reluctant to answer, but seeing Ji Chu still ill, he spoke more.

In summary: leave early. No need to get entangled in this small place where achievements go unnoticed.

Ji Chu reflected quietly.

Li still stood nearby, sensing his unspoken question.

With two assistants already here, would there be room for a third?

But this tiny county lacked even a deputy or registrar—how could they add another assistant?

Li and his family had traveled thousands of miles with Ji Chu; without a suitable position, it’d be hard to explain.

Ji Chu reassured him, “Don’t worry, there will be a solution.”

Naturally, this did little to ease Li’s mind.

Ji Chu continued, “Since Magistrate Zhang is eager to leave and I am still ill, please help me prepare for this.”

Li’s eyes brightened, readily agreeing. After hesitation, he asked, “What about those two assistants?”

He had dealt with them before—they were not easy to get along with.

The judicial assistant was cold and inflexible, fiercely protective of his authority. Anyone who challenged him suffered greatly.

The financial assistant was smooth and greedy, fond of money and women, but more approachable.

In handling Zhang’s departure, Li had already clashed with the judicial assistant over civil affairs and with the financial assistant over funds.

“Just proceed. Zhang’s men have been under those two for three years—they’re definitely unhappy. You’ll have more success.”

“Also, I wrote a letter of introduction to the prefecture’s officials. I’ll ask Magistrate Zhang to deliver it again.”

Ji Chu gave careful instructions.

Normally, a new magistrate would visit the prefecture, but time was tight. He had to rely on a traveling acquaintance to send the letter, which was improper.

Having Zhang deliver it again would help make amends.

Once arrangements were settled, it was time for medicine.

Mrs. Tao entered with the broth and some honey candies, making Ji Chu feel a little embarrassed.

At his age, he shouldn’t need candies to take medicine.

Still, after drinking the broth, Ji Chu obediently sucked on a candy and felt much better.

“Thank you, my lady,” Ji Chu said.

Mrs. Tao shook her head gently—it was her duty.

While Li handled external affairs, Mrs. Tao had arranged the household.

Their group was small: Li’s family lived in a small courtyard beside theirs.

Ji Zhen, Ji Chu’s nephew, shared their courtyard but had a separate room separated by a study.

Their six-person team was rather modest.

Fortunately, they had finally arrived.

With open communication, life would be manageable.

“There’s also the carriage driver,” Mrs. Tao said. “I offered him the remaining silver, but he said the county office already paid.”

Ji Chu was unsurprised. “Did he say who paid?”

“Assistant Qian. He even sent over many daily necessities,” Mrs. Tao recalled, naming them all despite being illiterate.

She didn’t know what to do and planned to ask Ji Chu.

From pots and pans to writing supplies, even several bolts of new cloth for the women.

When they learned their mute attendant was the new magistrate’s nephew, they sent several crickets—hard to find in winter.

They seemed to be providing for the whole household.

Assistant Qian truly understood human relations.

Ji Chu said, “Store them in the warehouse for now. Don’t worry about them.”

Mrs. Tao nodded, noticing the honey candies were nearly gone.

A faint smile tugged at her lips, but she held back out of decorum.

Ji Chu’s mind was foggy; sick yet still having to think—it was exhausting.

“Rest well, my lady,” Ji Chu yawned, patting the bed beside him. “Recover your strength—we still need to see off Magistrate Zhang.”

Once Zhang left, the big and little devils alike would come out.

It would be lively.

Amid the bustle, one matter troubled him deeply.

This place was so poor that even bandits avoided it.

That was hardly right.

Slowly, things would find a solution.

First, set a small goal—at least make bandits think Anqiu was worth robbing.

Whether they succeeded was another matter entirely.