Chapter 3 A Vigillante's Deadly Punches

The Water Margin, Chapter 3. Shijin, the Nine-Tattooed Dragon, right at this absolute crisis point. The authorities are closing in, his friends know they're bringing him down, and they make this incredible offer. They do. They literally get on their knees and they say, look, brother, you're a clean person, don't wreck your life for us. Just tie us up, hand us over, collect the reward, save yourself. And Shijin's reaction tells you everything, doesn't it? His refusal is immediate, passionate. Completely. He's not thinking about the law. He's thinking loyalty. He basically says, I'd rather die with you than live with people laughing at me for turning you in. He calls himself a clean, good fellow. And that phrase, clean, good fellow, that's the moral bedrock right there. It explains so much of what he does next. He's essentially ditched the legal code of the gentry for this. Well, this higher code of loyalty to his friends, his allies. Okay, but let's talk about the betrayal itself. How did this whole crisis even start? It comes down to an informant, right? This guy, Li Ji. Li Ji, yeah. Your local snitch, basically. Ah, right. He found the smoking gun, a return letter that proved Shijin was hiding the fugitives. And crucially, this letter came from Shijin's own servant, Wang Si. And Wang Si's excuse is just, he claims he forgot the letter because he was drunk. Exactly. A drunken mistake, he says, that just happens to potentially execute his master. Shijin knows instantly he's out of time, so he plays it smart, tactically. He stalls. Calls out to the constables, says, yeah, okay, I'll bring them out for the reward. Just buying those few precious moments. And this is where that new code really kicks in hard. He just defined himself by loyalty, right? But he shows he'll be utterly ruthless when needed. Goes straight to the back garden, calls over Wang Si, the forgetful servant, and just kills him. One quick knife stroke, done. Wow. The switch is flipped. Noble honor for his friends, yes, but immediate lethal pragmatism for anyone who's a liability. That's it. That's the moment. Manor owner, fugitive, just like that. Yeah. And the escape. It's pure chaos and fire. Total drama. He tells people, grab valuables, find silk, silver, whatever you can carry quickly. That torches the place. Straw houses, the main hall, everything goes up in flames. Well, he and the three leaders get fully armed. Armor, swords, those big pindo pole swords. Right. And they don't sneak out. They burst out of this inferno. Yeah. And it's targeted. It's revenge. They're not just running. No way. Shi Jin goes straight for the informant, Li Ji, cuts him in two with the pindo. Meanwhile, Chen Da and Yang Chen take out the two constables, the county lieutenant. He sees this whirlwind of violence and just bolts on his horse. Smart move, probably. So the immediate threat is neutralized. They managed to escape and get revenge. They retreat to Xiaowa Mountain nearby. For refuge. But think about it. His entire life, his estate, his status, gone in an afternoon. He even notes it himself, right? That he only saved some small stuff, the fine silks and small silver. Lost all the heavy goods. It's symbolic. That rooted manor life is just ashes. Totally gone. And here's the twist. His friends, Zulu and the others, they want him to stay. They offered to make him their leader on the mountain, even promised to rebuild his manor later. But he says no. Flat out refuses. He doesn't want the life of a mountain bandit. Okay, wait, hold on. Is this about honor or is it, I don't know, kind of snobbery. He just became an arsonist and killed people. But joining bandits is where he draws the line. That's the core contradiction, isn't it? It's fascinating. Even after all that, the blood, the fire, he's desperately clinging to that idea of being a clean, good fellow. He actually says he doesn't want to stain his legacy by becoming an outlaw. He does. He's still hoping somehow, against all odds, that he can find a path back to legitimacy. It seems, well, naive. Extremely naive. And that's why he leaves them, right? His big plan is to find his old martial arts teacher, instructor Wang Jin. Yep. He thinks Wang Jin, who apparently works for a military governor out west in Guangxi, can somehow get him an official position. He literally talks about getting half a lifetime of happiness through this. As a wanted man who just burned down his estate and killed officials. Okay. It's what drives him though. So he says his goodbyes, leaves them some silver and heads off alone. His travel outfit is interesting too. How so? He wears a white silk battle robe, a white felt hat, blue headscarf. He's still trying to look the part of a gentleman, you know, even with that massive pain doe on his back. He travels like this for half a month or more. Still chasing that dream of legitimacy. And eventually he reaches Wushu, another place with a military governor's office. He goes into a tea house. Asks the waiter cautiously, any instructors here named Wang from Tukiu? And just as the waiter's starting to figure it out, bam, the door bursts open. Enter Lu Da. Lu Da, the military commissioner. And his entrance is something else. Yeah. The description is intense. He's physically huge, right? Just radiates power. Oh yeah. Eight feet tall, the text says, incredibly broad, like waist 10 spans wide, round face, big ears, square mouth, this distinctive badger beard. And dress the part too. Absolutely. Military gear, sesame gauze turban, green silk battle robe, dark green sash. And these quote, eagle claw leather boots. He looks formidable. The waiter doesn't even hesitate, just points Shijin his way. And when Shijin introduces himself, Nine Tattoo Dragon, Lu Da knows the name instantly. Which tells you something right there. Shijin's reputation or maybe notoriety has already spread within this. Let's call it the Jianghu, the world of martial artists and potential outlaws. But Lu Da does more than just recognize him. He provides that crucial missing piece of information. The political context. That's huge. Lu Da asks, is this the Wang Jin who aggravated High Marshal Gao back in Tokyo? Boom. There it is. High Marshal Gao. This connects Shijin's personal quest immediately to this larger conflict. This network of people who fall on foul of this powerful official. Exactly. Lu Da is the first person Shijin meets who places his search within that bigger picture. And he tells him straight up, wrong place. Your Wang Jin isn't here in Wuyishu. Oh, where is he then? He's further north. In Yan'an Prefecture with the old military governor there. Okay. So Shijin's quest gets redirected, but the connection with Lu Da is immediate, isn't it? Instant. Lu Da is thrilled to meet the famous nine tattooed dragon. He pays Shijin's tea bill, grabs his arm and just insists, come on, we're going for drinks now. It's this very forceful, almost aggressive kind of camaraderie. And we see that aggression almost immediately, don't we? On the street. Right away. They're walking and there's a crowd blocking the way. People are watching a street performer. Doing martial arts tricks, selling medicine. Yeah. Standard stuff. Spear and staff techniques. Yeah. And then the coincidence hits. Shijin recognizes the performer. It's another one of his old teachers. Li Zhong, known as the Tiger Killer, his teacher for opening moves. The irony is just, wow, you've got Lu Da, this big shot military commissioner standing next to Shijin, the noble turned fugitive, watching Shijin's old Tiger Killer teacher basically busking for spare change. It really highlights the precariousness of life in this world, doesn't it? The shifts in fortune. And then the clash happens. Lu Zhong wants to finish his performance, collect his money, you know, make a living. A perfectly reasonable request. But Lu Zhidong, he's ready to drink now. He has absolutely zero patience for this delay. He gets angry. Instantly enraged. The text says he starts cursing, shoves his way into the crowd, basically yells at them, clear out or I'll beat you. Just pure unchecked aggression and abuse of power over ordinary folks. And the crowd just melts away. Terrified. Of course. You don't argue with the military commissioner when he's like that. And Li Zhong, the Tiger Killer, he sees Lu Da's fury and just shuts down, packs up his stuff immediately, dared not speak, the text says. Even the Tiger Killer is intimidated. That tells you a lot about Lu Da's volatility. It absolutely does. The power dynamic is crystal clear. Lu Da is this force of nature, kind of unpredictable, definitely dangerous. So the three of them, Lu Da, Shi Zhen, and the now silent Li Zhong, head off to a famous tavern. The Pan Family Hotel. Sounds nice, actually, near the bridge. Yeah. Described quite poetically, Hanging Wine Banner is a place to ease sorrow and boost heroism. They're enjoying a few drinks, some good food, you know, in a private room at the Pan Family Wine Tower. Exactly. They're swapping stories, talking martial arts, spear fighting, the text says. Right. It sounds pretty standard, pretty convivial. It is a perfect scene of, like, masculine camaraderie. Yeah. But that piece is just shattered by noise, specifically the sound of muffled, continuous sobbing and crying coming from the room right next door. Oh, and Lu Da, who, well, we know has the emotional patience of a lit match. Ah, yeah. That's a good way to put it. He immediately snaps. The source says he becomes intensely agitated. And instead of, you know, asking nicely what's wrong, he starts slamming dishes and cups down onto the table or maybe the floor. Onto the floor. Yeah. It sounds less like annoyance and more like a declaration of war against the sound itself. Right. So what's fascinating there is that the rage is kind of internalized at first or externalized onto objects. Well, yeah, he's destroying the surroundings. It signals that he cannot and will not tolerate the presence of suffering or emotional distress when he's supposed to be relaxing. That's a key insight into his character then. She's just incapable of looking away. Exactly. So he demands that the people making the noise be brought before him. Right now. And when they arrive, we meet the source of the distress. It's a young woman, Jin Kilian. She's about 18 or 19 and her father, Elder Jin, who looks maybe 50 or 60. They're professional singers, performers. They sing for tips in these wine towers. And the description of Jin Kilian in the text is, uh, it's really heartbreaking. She's described to this messy, cloudy bun of hair, but somehow she still has a delicate green jade hairpin clinging to it. She's wearing a slender red silk skirt, but her eyes, the text says they're just full of tears, like pouring out like pearls. Wow. So it's this immediate visual contrast, isn't it? Between like natural beauty and just absolute consuming misery. Absolutely. So Luta, still simmering, I imagine, demands to know their story. Yeah. And we get the full picture, the whole timeline of their misfortune. They originally traveled to Vaizhou from the capital, Tokyo, looking for family, only to find the relatives had already moved on to Minjing. Oh no. And then, uh, tragedy struck. Their mother died right there in the local inn where they were staying. So they're stranded, grieving. Exactly. And this is when the predator steps in. The sources name him Zhendong Gunranan, or Townsman West. He's presented as a wealthy, influential man. He saw the young woman, Jin Kilian, and decided he wanted her. And how did he manage that? Just approached her? No, no. The key detail here is the mechanism he used. It wasn't seduction. He forcibly took her as a concubine using strong matchmaker and hard guarantee. That phrase implies, um, serious legal and social leverage being misused. Strong arming them, basically. Pretty much. And here's where the financial deceit gets really dark. They signed a contract for 3,000 strings of cash, which sounds like a fortune. Right. 3,000 strings. That's enormous. And the source is incredibly clear on this. It was a Zoukan, cheeky, fake money, real contract. They never received a single coin. Not one. So it's just a setup, a fabricated legal agreement purely designed to ensnare them. That's exactly it. It's pure systemic oppression using the forms of law for illegal ends. This fake contract gave Zheng legal claim over her, over her labor, her future earnings, despite providing absolutely zero compensation. Unbelievable. And did she even stay with him long? Not even three months. Less than three months, the text says. Zheng's legitimate wife, the Dan Yangzi, found out and threw Jin Qilin out. Okay. So she's out. Is that the end of it? Oh, not at all. Zheng then weaponized that original fake debt. He used the innkeeper, the dinanxia renjia, to demand the Jin's repay the full 3,000 strings of cash as, uh, original redemption money. Redemption money for a debt that never existed because the money was never paid. Precisely. So the father and daughter are trapped in this like legal quicksand. They're forced to sing at wine towers every night just to try and pay off this fictional debt. And they have to give nearly all their meager earnings to the innkeeper who then passes it to Zheng. So that's why they were crying next door. They were behind on the payments for this fake debt. Yeah. Behind on payments and terrified of what Zheng or the innkeeper might do. Okay. This raises a big question then. What gives this townsman West guy the authority to act like this, like some kind of local tyrant? Well, that's what Lu De wants to know too. He asks Elder Jin, where does this man live? And the old man identifies him. He says, oh, that's Zheng Tu. Just Zheng Tu. A common butcher. He sells meat near the Scholar's Bridge. The nickname Townsman West is just, well, puffery, luster. A butcher, not some powerful official, just a butcher named Zheng. Yep. And Lu De's reaction is, ah, it's fantastic. He just shouts, pick. You know, that sound of pure contempt. Yeah. Like spitting dismissively. Exactly. And he calls him an Anzang Pekaya filthy wretch. This is the moment Lu De realizes the, like the social dimension of the crime. The supposed big shot Townsman West is just a meat seller. So why does the butcher think he can get away with this? Ah, well, Elder Jin also reveals that Zheng Tu is only acting this way because he's under the protection of the little military commissioner, the Singiskingluus Yangu. Okay. So he is connected. He's using borrowed power. Corruption, basically. That's it. He's leveraging that connection to crush the weak. And Lu De, remember, is a genuine Tisha, a high ranking military officer with legitimate authority. He sees this abuse of power by a common butcher using connections as a direct insult to the moral and social order he represents or should represent. So the impulse is immediate, raw, absolutely, Lu De. Completely. He declares right then and there, wait here, I'm going to go beat that wretch to death and then I'll be back. Whoa. Okay. Zero hesitation, beat him to death. None. That's the immediate plan. But wait, you said earlier this was strategic. That sounds purely impulsive, like a bully ready to jump to violence. Where's the strategy in beat him to death right now? Ah, good point. But hold on. The strategy emerges immediately after that outburst because his companions, Li Zhong and Shi Jin, they actually managed to restrain him. Oh, okay. They talk him down. They do. They convince him that a drunken, spontaneous beat down in a public wine tower is frankly a terrible idea for everyone, especially for the victims, Jin Qilin and her father. They persuade him to wait, wait until the next day. Right. So that enforced pause, that's the key. That's the pivot point. It transforms the pure rage into calculated action. The rage provides the fuel, the absolute certainty, but the pause allows for planning to ensure the desired outcome. Which isn't just beating up Jing too, presumably. No. The primary goal now becomes ensuring the safety and escape of the Jins. So Lu Da immediately shifts gears from violence to practical aid. He tells the father and daughter, okay, take some money. Go back to Tokyo immediately. Okay. So he's funding their escape. Does he have money? Well, this leads to one of the best moments of character judgment in the whole novel, I think. Lu Da says, basically, we need to fund their escape. He digs into his own pocket first, pulls out five tails of silver. Okay. A decent start. Then he turns to Shi Jin, the young hero type, asks him for a loan. And Shi Jin, without blinking, instantly hands over 10 tails of silver. No questions asked, just pure support. Wow. Okay. So that's 15 tails now. Pretty significant sum. That should cover travel. It is. A generous amount. But then Lu Da turns to the third companion, Li Zong, and Li Zhaokart. Well, maybe he's trying to avoid the cost of justice. He reluctantly pulls out a rather pathetic two tails of silver. Two. After Shi Jin gave 10. Big ouch. And Lu Da doesn't miss it. The source material explicitly notes, Lu Da looks at Li Zong and immediately judges him, calls him, Ye Xi Ge Bu Xiong Li De Ren. Also not a generous person. Or maybe not straightforward, not brisk. So it highlights Lu Da's own moral code, right? If you're going to stand for justice, you need to back it up with action, with resources, generosity matters. Being cheap makes you useless in his eyes. Absolutely. He's essentially enforcing a moral contribution tax on his friends right there. So the total collected for the Jinns is the 15 tails, Lu Da's 5 and Shi Jin's 10. He gives that to Elder Jin. Tells him, buy a cart, pack your things. I'll be back early tomorrow morning to see you off and deal with the innkeeper. And what about Li Zong's two tails? Does he just add it in anyway? Nope. And this is the kicker. Once the Jinns have left the room, Lu Da takes those two measly tails and throws them back at Li Zong. No way. He refused the money. Threw it back. He didn't even want that paltry grudging sum associated with this righteous act of, well, financial salvation. Man, that really solidifies his judgment, doesn't it? Li Zong failed the character test. Completely. The financial transaction is now purely between Lu Da's righteous core and Shi Jin's unquestioning, generous support. Li Zong is sidelined. Okay. So money sorted, escape plan in place. What happens the next morning? The next morning before dawn, the fifth watch Lu Da shows up at the end, as promised, Elder Jin is ready. He's done everything right. He found a cart. He's paid all his genuine debts. The room, the lodging fees, even settled up the wood and rice costs. So he squared away everything except the fake debt. Exactly. He's ready to go with only that fraudulent 3000 string debt hanging over him, which they obviously can't pay. But surely the innkeeper isn't just going to let them walk out. He's Zhen Tu's collection agent, effectively. You got it. As expected, the inn waiter, the Dianxin Yue, tries to stop them. He argues, look, okay, your room fees are paid fine, but you can't leave. We're responsible for holding you here for the 3000 strings you owe master Zheng. So the innkeeper is acting as Zheng's private jailer and debt collector. Precisely. But Lu Da doesn't waste time debating the legality of the fake contract. He cuts right to the chase. He asked the waiter, point blank, do these people owe you, the inn, any money? The waiter has to admit, no, the debt is owed to master Zheng. Ah, okay. Tactical move. Very. Lu Da then declares essentially, fine, I'll settle up with Zheng myself later, which is a total lie, of course, but it carries the weight of his Tixue status. And he orders the waiter, let them go now. And the waiter just Ks. He refuses. He's probably more scared of Zheng Tu or just following orders. And that's it. The time for talking for diplomacy is officially over. The plan, strategic phase of the escape has reached its final, uh, enforcement checkpoint. Okay. So now the violence we expected earlier. Now the violence, but notice how targeted and efficient it is this time. It's not wild rage. The source says Lu Da delivers one open-handed slap. Zha Kai yields, and just one palm strike to the waiter's face. Hard enough to make the waiter spit blood. Just one slap. That doesn't sound too bad in the context of the story. Wait for it. One slap causes him to spit blood. Then Lu Da follows up. Zai Fu Yi Quan, a second blow, this time a punch, knocks out two of the waiter's front teeth. Okay. Yeah, that's definitely overkill, especially for a waiter just doing his job, essentially. It is overkill. And that's the point. It's calculated brutality designed to instill absolute paralyzing fear. This isn't about winning a fair fight. It's about crushing the will of any opposition instantly. Making an example. And does it work? Perfectly. The waiter flees in terror. And the innkeeper, witnessing this high-ranking military officer unleash such immediate, unhinged violence over this issue, he's terrified. He doesn't dare interfere. So the path is clear. The Jinns can just walk out. They walk out, escape the city, and find the cart they'd already arranged. The escape is successful. But Lu Da assaulted someone. Doesn't he flee too? This is the most crucial strategic nugget, I think, of the whole sequence. Lu Da does not run off to find Xing Tu immediately. And he doesn't flee. He finds a stool right there in the induced kab kiao ding zi. And he sits down. And he waits. For a full two hours. Ling jie shi qian. Two hours, sitting there, after knocking a guy's teeth out. Why? That wait is everything. It is the signature move of the strategist, not just a brute. He deliberately remains at the scene of the assault. Why? To ensure the Jinns have enough time to get far, far away from Bai Zu, he needs to make sure that when the battered waiter inevitably raises the alarm, or when word gets back to Xing Tu, the Jinns are long gone, safe from any pursuit or interception. So he's calculating the time needed for their escape versus his own risk of being caught or identified. Exactly. He's making a calculated trade-off. Two hours of personal risk and potential exposure for the guaranteed safety of the victims he set out to save. That's strategic thinking under pressure. Wow. Okay. That adds a whole different layer to his character. It really does. Only once he's confident they are safely away, does he finally get up, leave the inn, and head directly to the Scholar's Bridge to find the butcher, Xing Tu. He walks into Xing Tu's shop. Right. And he claims he's there on orders, urgent orders from the Colonel, his superior. So right away, he's pulling rank, establishing he's above this butcher. Precisely. And then come the demands. They're designed not just to annoy, but to actually waste the butcher's time and product. Okay. So demand one, what was it, ten jin? That's like, what, 11 pounds? Around that, yeah. Ten jin of pure lean meat. No fat at all. And the crucial part. He insists it has to be finely chopped into sausage. Or saisy. Okay. And that's not just ground beef, is it? No, no. Think really fine mince, like for dumplings or something. It's incredibly labor intensive. He's making this butcher, who probably has apprentices, do this painstaking work himself. Wow. So it's an insult to his status, his time. His whole operation, really. And Zheng Tu does it right. Wraps it up in a lotus leaf. But Lu Day's not done. He immediately hits him with demand number two. Another ten jin, but this time, pure fat. Pure fat. Also chopped into this fine saisy. Yep. Not a single trace of lean meat. Okay. Now that's just weird. Exactly. And Zheng Tu is clearly thinking the same thing. He actually asks, you know, okay, the lean meat, maybe for wonton. But what on earth do you do with fat sausage? He's questioning the order. Pushing back a little. He is. And Lu Day just stares him down, basically dares him to refuse the colonel's orders. So the pressure's building. Then comes the final straw. Demand three. The final ten jin. This time it's inch gold soft bone. Inch gold soft bone. What even is that? It's cartilage, basically. Specific soft bone. Again, finely chopped. No meat visible. So let's recap. That's like 33 pounds of super specific custom mince stuff. Hours of work. Yeah. Nothing useful. Pretty much useless for any normal cooking. And at this point, Zheng Tu finally gets it. The penny drops. He laughs, breaks that respectful act and just says, you came specifically to mess with me. And Lu Day doesn't deny it. Nope. Screams back. Yeah, I am here to mess with you. And then he grabs those first two packages. The lean meat and the fat. Throws them right in Zheng Tu's face. The text calls it a shower of meat rain. Ugh. Disgusting. And that's the signal, right? Humiliation phase over. Violence phase begins instantly. Zheng Tu grabs a butcher knife. But Lu Day is faster. He's military after all. Much faster. Sidesteps. And then, importantly, he doesn't punch first. He kicks him. Oh, right. Kicks him where? Right in the gut. Sends him stumbling out into the street. Then Lu Day follows, pins him down, stands on his chest. Standing on his chest. That feels significant. It is. He gives this speech, basically condemning Zheng Tu for cheating that woman, Jinghui Lian. It frames the violence to come as like moral justice. An execution, almost. Not just a brawl. Okay. And then, the punches. The famous three punches. Yeah. And they're described in such a stylized, almost literary way. It's not just, he hit him. Okay. Walk us through them. Punch number one. Hits him right on the nose. Twists it sideways. And the description. It's compared to opening an oil and sauce shop. An oil and sauce shop. What does that mean? All the fluids, blood, tears, snot just pour out. Salty, sour, spicy things. All mixed together. It's shocking. Oh, wow. That's graphic and symbolic, you think? Absolutely. It's like, the author is reducing the butcher, the seller of commodities, into spoiled commodities himself. He's coming apart like his own ruined goods. Okay. That's dark. What about punch number two? Lands on the eye socket, the brow area. The simile changes completely here. How so? Now it's like opening a silk cloth shop. A silk shop. Yeah. The color's bursting out. Red, black, purplish red. Like bolts of fabric tumbling out. It's a shift from, like, taste and smell to pure visual chaos. And Zing, too, is still conscious at this point. He is. He actually starts trying to beg for mercy. Ten rounds. But Luigi's not having it. No way. He shouts something like, if you'd fought back, maybe I'd have stopped. But begging, now you die. Okay. The final blow. Punch three. Hits him on the temple. And the description shifts again. This time it's all about sound. Sound. Yeah. It's likened to conducting a full Taoist water and land ritual. You know, a big, noisy funeral ceremony. Gongs, cymbals, bells all clanging together. So death is just this chaotic noise. A percussive end. And then, silence. Luday looks down. And realizes what he's done. Instantly. The rage just vanishes. You get his inner thoughts. It's something like, uh-oh, I just meant to beat him up. Didn't think three punches would actually kill him. Panic sets in. Pure practical panic. The authorities will come for me. Gotta run. Now. But he doesn't just bolt immediately. Right? There's that little bluff. Yeah. For like half a second, he keeps up the tough guy act. Points at the body. Says, huh? Playing dead, are you? Just to buy himself a moment to turn and walk away calmly. Then he's gone. Does he go home first? Briefly. Back to his lodgings. But he's smart about it. Doesn't pack everything. Right. Leaves the heavy stuff. Just the essentials. Soft goods, money, maybe some clothes. Things he can carry easily. Then he's out of Uesu. Fast. The book says like a puff of smoke. Just carrying a short staff. So the crime scene is discovered. What happens next? How does the system react? Well, it kicks into gear, but there's an immediate complication, which is the local prefect, the main civil official gets the report, but he can't just arrest Luda. Why not? Because he's military. Exactly. He's a Tshia reporting to the colonel. So the prefect has to go to the colonel first. Ah, okay. So civil versus military authority right away. How does the colonel take it? He's horrified, apparently. But he's also politically savvy. He does this like verbal tap dance. How so? He admits Luda is reckless. Yeah. But then he mentions almost casually that Luda used to serve under the colonel's father, the old colonel. Ah, pulling the family connection. It's subtle, but effective. It's a shield. He tells the prefect, okay, go ahead. Issue the warrant. Follow the law. But make sure you inform the old colonel of the final verdict. It's a veiled warning. Like prosecute him. But tread carefully. This guy has powerful connections. Wow. So personal loyalty, military ties, potentially trumping the actual law. It definitely complicates things. Shows you how the system really worked. So the prefect, he takes the hint. Seems like it. He goes back, issues the formal arrest warrant. It's called a Ignejiriwenshu, basically an all points bulletin. And it has detail. Oh yeah. Luda's age, where he lived, his physical description, simo. Everything needed to identify him. And a reward. There's always a reward. A huge one. 1000 guan. How much is that really? Massive. Life-changing money back then. Enough to make anyone turn him in if they saw him. Okay. So the hunt is officially on. What about the people nearby? The witnesses? They get caught up in it too. The neighbors, the landlord of the butcher shop, they're questioned. Just questioned. Worse. The neighbors actually get beaten with the staff, punished for failing to help or save the victim. Even though the killer was a military officer, they probably feared. Doesn't matter. The system demanded they intervene. It shows how harsh it could be even on bystanders. Meanwhile, Luda is running. For how long? The text says over half a month, just running on panic, not choosing his road. Basically heading wherever fear takes him. And he ends up where? Eventually he reaches Dai Prefecture, a place called Yanmen County. It's described as busy, prosperous, quite far from Waizu. Okay. So he's maybe feeling a little safer. Maybe. But then comes this incredible moment of irony. What happens? He wanders into the town square, sees a crowd gathered around a notice board. People are reading something out loud. Public announcement. Yeah. And Luda being mostly muscle, you know, he can't read. Eldake Bushizi. He's illiterate. Yeah. So he just joins the crowd, curious, straining to hear what everyone's looking at. Don't tell me. It's his own wanted poster. No way. Yes. The crowd is reading out the description of the murderer Luda from the colonel's office, wanted for killing Zheng Tu, reward 1,000 grand. He's literally listening to his own description. Oh my God. The irony. His strength got him into this mess and his lack of reading skills almost gets him caught. It's perfectly set up. He's trapped by the one part of the state he can't physically fight information, words on paper. So what happens? Does someone recognize him? Just as he's piecing it together, hearing the details, someone does recognize him, but not to turn him in. An old acquaintance shouts out, Zeng Daj, what are you doing here? And grabs him, physically pulls him away from the poster out of the crowd. Just in time. A complete coincidence saves him. A narrative lifesaver. It's this friend grabbing him that prevents his almost certain capture right there. What a cliffhanger. That's an amazing sequence of events.