The moment the eunuch finished speaking.
Silence did not fall.
Instead, something far more dangerous appeared on Zhuge Wangchan's face.
A smile.
Not an ordinary smile. Not even a polite one. It was that eerie, faintly artificial curve of the lips that the people of Gao Family Village had painstakingly learned to imitate from Dao Xuan Tianzun himself. That unsettling, almost plastic expression that hovered somewhere between kindness and mockery, as if the one smiling had already calculated the outcome three steps ahead.
Among the villagers, this particular smile had become reserved for special occasions.
Like when someone was about to get into trouble.
Of course, it was extremely difficult for an ordinary human face to achieve that silicone-like effect. Many had practiced in front of mirrors, trying to cultivate a perfectly insincere smile. Most ended up with cramped cheeks and twitching eyelids instead.
Zhuge Wangchan, however, had mastered it.
He let out a low chuckle. "This tax," he said lightly, "wasn't invented just now on the spot, was it?"
The eunuch sneered. "What nonsense are you babbling about? This is a long-established tax item, carefully considered and instituted by Prince Rui's Estate."
Zhuge Wangchan did not argue emotionally. He spoke as though reciting a lesson.
"No tax item may be privately instituted. It must be reported to the imperial court, examined by the Ministry of Revenue, debated by officials, and formally approved before collection. Take the Liaodong tax, for example. Officials quarreled for months before that passed. So tell me… when did the Ministry of Revenue approve this 'goods turnover tax' for Prince Rui's Estate? Do you have the official document?"
The eunuch froze.
He had not expected a mere transport commander to know the procedure of tax legislation.
For a brief moment, hesitation flickered in his eyes.
Then pride overcame prudence.
"Of course we have the document," he snapped. "But what right do you have to see it? Even if I don't show it to you today, you will still pay the tax. Obediently."
Zhuge Wangchan's smile did not move a fraction.
"If there is a document, I will pay. If there is none…" His tone remained calm. "Then I am afraid you will not receive a single grain of flour from us."
The eunuch's face turned red.
Nearby, Zhu Cunji and Zhu Yujian exchanged looks.
"This Prince Rui," Zhu Cunji muttered under his breath, "is truly courting disaster. Of all people, he chose to extort Gao Family Village's transport team. Even greed should have limits."
Zhu Yujian sighed softly. "Now he will be taught one."
Zhu Cunji scratched his chin. "Should we intervene? Stop Zhu Changhao before this goes too far?"
"We cannot reveal ourselves," Zhu Yujian replied. "Without status, he will ignore us. With status, we expose ourselves. Neither is wise."
Zhu Cunji considered it and nodded reluctantly. "You are right. Let him stumble into his own pit. A greedy man like him deserves to learn what pain feels like."
He glanced around at the crude station. "Honestly, I would like to beat him myself. Swimming in silver, yet unwilling to build a proper station. Disgraceful."
The two princes remained still, their guards equally motionless behind them, all watching like spectators at a street opera.
Meanwhile, the eunuch had reached the end of his patience.
He waved sharply. "Men! Seize the goods!"
Zhu Cunji could not help himself.
He laughed out loud.
Zhu Yujian turned. "What is amusing?"
"This scene," Zhu Cunji said between chuckles, "reminds me of when my men tried to seize Gao Family Village's celestial fertilizer. They looked just as confident. I ended up paying fifty thousand taels. Fifty thousand! Even for me that was painful. For a miser like Zhu Changhao… losing silver might be worse than losing blood."
Zhu Yujian shook his head. "The nature of your case was different."
"How so?"
"You were attempting to seize imperial goods brought by Wu Shen and Shi Kefa. It was improper, but not malicious. Zhu Changhao is trying to confiscate relief supplies meant for disaster victims. If both cases were presented to me, you would receive light punishment. He would not."
Before Zhu Cunji could reply, Prince Rui's guards advanced.
The lead guard stepped forward and casually reached out to shove Zhuge Wangchan aside, the gesture relaxed and arrogant, born of habit. In his world, resistance did not exist.
Until it did.
Zhuge Wangchan moved.
His hands shot forward with trained precision. Using a military grappling technique jokingly nicknamed Ghost-God Boxing, he locked onto the guard's wrist.
A sharp crack echoed.
The guard blinked in confusion.
Then the world turned upside down.
Zhuge Wangchan twisted, lifted, and swung the fully armored man as though he weighed nothing more than a sack of millet, then slammed him onto the ground with a thunderous thud that reverberated across the station floor.
Armor and flesh struck stone together.
For a heartbeat, everything paused.
Then chaos erupted.
"They're rebelling!"
"How dare you!"
Prince Rui's retainers rushed forward all at once.
Unfortunately for them, Zhuge Wangchan had not come alone. Behind him stood five hundred logistics soldiers, men accustomed to marching, hauling, and fighting. By sheer numbers alone they surpassed Prince Rui's present guard detail, which consisted of only a few dozen ordinary retainers.
The result was predictable.
The logistics soldiers calmly set down their baskets of grain.
They rolled up their sleeves.
Then they waded in.
What followed was not a duel. It was a demonstration.
Prince Rui's guards were grabbed, flipped, swept, and slammed. Armor scraped loudly across the polished stone floor. Bodies skidded. Shouts overlapped. Dust rose.
Within moments, the retainers lay sprawled across the ground, groaning.
The train station exploded into noise.
Common folk hurried backward at first, instinctively seeking safety. But once they realized no blades were drawn and the militia clearly had the upper hand, they stopped retreating and began watching with open fascination.
This was not some remote village where news traveled slower than ox carts. This was a railway station. Many here had traveled to Xi'an. Many had seen what a militia looked like.
When they recognized that Prince Rui was clashing with the Gao Family Village Militia, they sensed something historic was unfolding.
A spectacle.
Some even began quietly cheering.
Only a few locals who had never left Hanzhong whispered anxiously, "It feels satisfying to beat Prince Rui's men now… but afterward they will surely be executed."
Prince Rui himself had already retreated into a protective ring of eunuchs.
"Rebellion!" he shouted, his composure crumbling. "Utter rebellion! Summon the guards! Fetch the Hanzhong Prefect! Call the Regional Commander!"
Zhuge Wangchan cupped his hands around his mouth and added cheerfully, "And do not forget to summon the Tathagata Buddha!"
The crowd burst into laughter.
"Yes! Quickly summon the Tathagata Buddha!"
"Hahahaha!"
Even Zhu Cunji could not suppress a grin.
"This," he murmured, "has truly escalated. If the Prefect becomes involved, the matter will inevitably reach the imperial court."
Zhu Yujian's brows furrowed.
Yes.
It had escalated.
Prince Rui's entourage fled the station in a flurry of robes and panic, disappearing into the streets of Hanzhong.
Behind them, the logistics soldiers resumed their work as if nothing extraordinary had occurred.
Basket after basket of grain was lifted down from the train.
Order returned.
But the air had changed.
Storms do not announce themselves loudly at first.
Sometimes, they begin with a single slap on stone.