Chapter 436: Paper Money Like Rain

Chapter 436: Rain of Banknotes

"Kill people?"

The young guard pushed the slightly askew helmet on his head with his palm, his pale, tender face filled with confusion. "Kill who?"

"How many times have I told you? If you have spare money, go and get that cyberbrain of yours properly sorted out, then you wouldn't ask such a stupid question."

The captain, with a dark face, cursed testily, "You kid, you just had to remodel yourself into a pretty boy. What do you need a face for as a guard? Can it stop bullets, or can it block blades and spears?"

"Of course it can't."

The young guard slumped his head, muttering under his breath, "But if I don't fix my face, how am I going to find a wife..."

"What did you say?" The captain raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing, nothing."

The young guard waved his hands repeatedly, hurriedly changing the subject. "Boss, you still haven't said exactly who we're killing. Are we going to suppress the Honghu?"

"You expect these people to suppress the Honghu? Heh, I'm afraid before they even catch a glimpse of a Honghu shadow, they'll all be maneuvered into turning their guns around by others. Besides, the Honghu nowadays have noses sharper than dogs; they've long smelled danger and turned tail to flee. Can you even find them?"

The captain tore open the newly arrived 'Nanjing Extra Mild', pulled out a stick, placed it under his nose, and took a deep sniff.

This kind of tobacco, exclusively supplied to officials of the companion capital, carried a unique aroma of fruitwood, leaving him with a face of pure intoxication before he murmured a moment later, "Who do you ask the sinners can kill? The ones they can kill, of course, are only other sinners."

Sinners killing sinners?!

The young guard was instantly dumbfounded with shock.

However, he was not shocked by the cruelty of such a thing, but rather surprised at why the imperial court—or to be precise, those masters within the Confucian gentry clans—would do this.

In his worldview, although these sinners possessed inferior genes and had little value for development or cultivation, with a bit of training they could still barely serve as labor slaves. Even if the generated profits were low, the cost was much cheaper than ordering Yanmen from the Yellow Millet Dreamscape.

Moreover, the Honghu had already gone into hiding; these sinners hadn't caused trouble, nor had they rebelled, so what was the point of killing them?

The young guard licked his lips and was about to press further when he saw his boss draw a dagger from behind his waist, stretching out a mechanical finger devoid of bionic skin to strike against the blade edge.

Sizzle!

Amidst the ear-piercing sound of friction, a sudden spark ignited the paper cigarette.

The gray-bearded old guard held a breath of smoke in his chest, only exhaling it after a long while, a look of regret appearing on his face with half-closed eyes.

"Ah, a lung that isn't original just lacks that certain something. A waste of such good stuff."

He pinched the pale yellow cigarette filter between two fingers, saying flatly, "I know what you kid are thinking. That's exactly why I'm telling you these things today. Affairs in this world can never be viewed merely from the surface; you have to think deeper, think finer. And no matter how paradoxical or appalling the final conclusion you derive may be, you only need to remember three points."

The captain paused after each word, "Don't speak, don't care, don't touch!"

"Think deeper..."

The young guard racked his brain with a bitter face, but no matter how he reflected, he could not see what deep, hidden bottleneck lay within. In the end, he could only plop down next to the captain, speaking in a low voice, "Boss, I really can't figure it out."

He obediently took off the helmet from his head and leaned his noggin over. But this time, the slap the young guard anticipated did not fall.

"It doesn't matter. If you could see through it and grasp it all at once, you wouldn't be squatting here with me. You're still young, and you've only been holding the guard's rice bowl for a few years. Once you experience more of these things in the future, you'll naturally understand."

Uncharacteristically, the captain patted his shoulder gently and said patiently, "This time the court is implementing the new policy in the sinner districts, drawing out so many young and able-bodied people to resettle them across the empire's various prefectures and counties. On one hand, it's to give them a taste of sweetness so they know the empire's preferential treatment toward them. On the other hand, it's to force these people who have the capacity to cause trouble away from their ancestral homes. Once they leave that land of barren hills and treacherous waters, no matter how rowdy the populace is, they can only honestly reform."

"Is there a need for that? Could these sinners actually dare to obstruct the implementation of the new policy?"

The old guard gave a cold laugh. "The genes of the sinners dictate that the vast majority of them are a mere rabble. But in the words of the Daoist Sequence, genes are no different from the mandate of heaven; heaven's mandate is unpredictable, and genes are equally unpredictable. Among countless snakes, insects, rats, and ants, there will always be one or two dragons that mutate. This kind of person won't willingly bow their head and wait for death."

"An uprising breaking out in the sinner districts is only a matter of time. Even if it isn't the Honghu, other people will jump out to take the lead."

The glowing ember on the cigarette flared and faded unpredictably. The old man, who had been a guard for most of his life, exhaled a cloud of smoke, his tone turning chilling and murderous. "When that time comes, these sinners resettled within the imperial heartland will pick up the blades and spears given to them by the gentry clans. In the name of the Pacification Commission guards, they will enter other sinner districts to suppress those who dare to rebel."

"But, boss."

The young guard asked in bewilderment, "If it's really as you say, and the court clearly knows the sinner districts might rebel, then why don't they just deploy people directly there to nip the rebellion in the bud, instead of making them route through our heartland for a turnaround? isn't that a waste of time?"

The captain rolled his eyes. "If you were a sinner, and the court moved you directly from your hometown to another sinner district, would you be willing?"

"That's true. If it were me, I definitely wouldn't be willing." The young guard scratched his head, grinning foolishly.

"Furthermore..."

The captain's tone turned solemn, "The court is exactly waiting for them to rebel!"

"Why is that again?"

The young guard, who had just gained a bit of a clue, fell into confusion once more.

"Favors are remembered for a moment, but calamities are remembered for a lifetime. The preferential treatment the new policy gives to the sinners will only make them grateful for a brief instant. Only the pain of axes and halberds visited upon their bodies can make them engrave it in their hearts, never daring to forget it for generations to come. Therefore, the sinner districts must be fought sooner or later, and they will thoroughly hurt these sinners all at once, while also beating all the other factions that dare to meddle into complete submission!"

The old guard spoke with resounding cadence, "Only in this way can the sinner districts enjoy long-term peace and stability, and only then will the new policy be worthy of being recorded into the Yellow Millet historical annals, becoming the most illustrious achievement of 'civil governance and military merit' since the late Emperor."

"Civil governance and military merit... civil governance and military merit..."

The young guard's eyes went blank, and only after a long while did he suddenly snap out of it. "So that's how it is. I understand, boss."

"Do you really think you fully understand now? Seen everything clearly?" The old guard smiled without a smile.

"Uh..."

The young guard was taken aback by this question, the confidence that had just surfaced on his face instantly doused.

"I told you just now to think deeper, think finer. The more you think of, the more securely you can live."

The old guard's voice paused for a moment. He subconsciously looked around, pointed above his head, his gaze obscure and difficult to decipher. "Think about it, if everything really went smoothly from here on out, where would the rain of banknotes come from?"

Sitting on a step one level lower than the older man, the young guard looked up along the other's finger, staring somewhat blankly at the warm sun hanging high above.

Where was there any rain?

Screech!

Braking tires ground against the pavement with a piercing noise, stopping before an ancient Ming-style mansion with a rather high threshold.

A tall, straight figure stepped out of the vehicle, a deep, lingering melancholy hanging within his profound brow and eyes.

"Is it Mr. Xiuluan? This way, please."

A servant who had been waiting before the steps for a long time came forward to welcome him. However, instead of leading Toyotomi Xiuluan up those steps that numbered a full seven tiers, he walked toward the edge of the blue-brick and gray-tiled courtyard wall, where a narrow door stood half-open.