Under the persuasion of Magistrate Yuan Yongcheng, the group still accepted the gesture presented to them.
It had to be said that it was indeed a generous gift. Even Huixin, who received the least, was given thirty taels of snowflake silver. If it were ordinary silver in circulation, it would be worth at least over a hundred taels.
As for Ji Yuan and Zhao Yuansong, they each received fifty and eighty taels of snowflake silver, respectively. This clearly accounted for Ji Yuan's senior brother and Zhao Yuansong's junior siblings.
From this point alone, the magistrate could not be faulted.
Furthermore, from the moment everyone was seated, his demeanor made them feel at ease. He neither deliberately showed closeness nor neglected anyone.
Even the young boy and girl sitting at the end were frequently engaged, allowing them to participate in the conversation without feeling out of place.
Yuan Yongcheng, as expected of someone from a Confucian background, used words and phrases that were natural yet precise, earning nods of agreement from everyone.
After more than half an hour, the chief constable, who had quietly departed at some point, returned with two grim-faced constables. The group then ceased their discussions.
After exchanging pleasantries, Liu Hongsheng reported the extent of the civilian casualties and property damage, as tallied by his constables.
Although Ji Yuan and the others had been at the scene and witnessed the row of collapsed houses, they had not known the exact situation.
Upon hearing the chief constable's account, they finally gained a clear understanding.
Learning of the actual circumstances, they couldn't help but click their tongues in disbelief and a sense of guilt arose.
The civilian casualties were relatively minor, mostly minor injuries. Only a few unfortunate individuals were hit on the head by falling tiles and bricks, but they would recover after some rest.
However, the damage to the houses and streets represented a substantial amount of money, requiring at least a thousand taels to repair everything to its original state.
“The number of houses destroyed by the monster’s explosion was not high, but due to the delayed response, the fire spread, burning down two entire streets and incurring significant losses,” Liu Hongsheng sighed, his expression somewhat grim. If the situation had been handled promptly, hundreds of taels could have been saved.
However, this was merely a thought. Given the circumstances at the time, it was fortunate that the damage had not spread further. The loss of property was far less significant than the loss of lives.
“A little silver is not a major issue. Once everything is tallied, I will request funds from above,” Magistrate Yuan Yongcheng said with a wave of his sleeve, unconcerned. “Instruct the local gentry and faction leaders to gather some funds and send them to the yamen in the next two days. We will proceed according to the old rules, prioritizing the welfare of the affected civilians.”
Ji Yuan had heard of this so-called old rule before. It was said to be a common practice for local magistrates to have the city's gentry, martial arts sects, and cultivation factions contribute funds and resources first.
This way, the affected civilians could receive assistance in the shortest possible time, and those who donated would gain a good reputation locally, perhaps even receiving commendations from the imperial court.
Once the imperial relief funds arrived, they could recoup their initial contributions, effectively gaining considerable benefits with little to no personal expense.
If, by some ill fortune, their donations were not fully reimbursed by the imperial funds, it was not a significant issue. For local powers, a good reputation was often more valuable than mere silver.
One constable acknowledged the order and immediately left, presumably to notify the city's gentry, wealthy merchants, and various factions.
To put it bluntly, those individuals were likely eagerly awaiting such an opportunity every day. Upon hearing the news, they were probably already preparing their donations, waiting only for the yamen’s representatives to arrive.
“My Lord, there is one more matter…” another constable said, cupping his hands. He paused midway, casting a glance at Ji Yuan and the others.
Yuan Yongcheng said, “Just speak freely. Those present are all chivalrous individuals who care for the common people, so there is nothing you cannot tell them.”
Ji Yuan and the others quickly raised their hands, offering bows, clasping their palms together, or making fists with their hands. Although they murmured phrases like "we dare not accept such praise," who wouldn't feel pleased to be addressed in such a manner?
If it were ordinary people, it would be one thing, but for the magistrate himself to say it made a significant difference.
Hearing this, the constable spoke with reassurance, meticulously recounting the clues gathered by his constables.
It turned out that rumors of a monster at the bottom of the river had long been circulating among the city's residents, especially those living on the riverbanks. Many of their relatives or ancestors had met a tragic end in this Xiyu River.
Over time, it was unclear who, in a fleeting glimpse or for psychological comfort, had erected a shrine to a local deity at a bend in the Xiyu River, and it had been worshipped for nearly a century.
Upon hearing this, Ji Yuan couldn't help but shake his head. He now understood why a monster could hide at the bottom of the river for so long, remaining undiscovered not only by the authorities but even by the City God.
Although such unofficial shrines were not recognized by the imperial court and lacked authority over local territories, they could still receive incense offerings and a form of spiritual protection.
It was precisely the incense offerings from the people along the Xiyu River and this spiritual protection that had allowed the monster to remain undetected for a century.
Otherwise, the immense sinfulness of the catfish spirit alone would have been enough to trigger a response from heaven and earth, bringing about appropriate retribution. For example, it might have been discovered by the authorities or the City God, leading to its immediate demise at the hands of a great cultivator, or a passing enlightened master might have casually dispatched the sinful monster.
“Currently, the people are spreading rumors that someone, driven by greed, attempted to steal the river god’s divine artifact, enraging the river god and causing the destruction of houses on both banks,” the constable said with a helpless expression.
The common folk were largely ignorant and prone to believing anything they heard. The truth of the matter was of no concern; instead, the stories became more outlandish with each retelling. As a constable, he was accustomed to such matters and had long lost the inclination to correct them.
Meanwhile, Xu Qiqi, sitting at the end of the table, puffed out her cheeks indignantly. She had wanted to reprimand the people for their ignorance several times, but each time she opened her mouth, she felt a sense of helplessness.
“It is said that tens of thousands of years ago, the world was ruled by an ancient dynasty, where people were eloquent, and each individual was comparable to today’s Xiucai or Juren scholars,” Magistrate Yuan Yongcheng sighed, wondering if the scenes described in books would ever reappear in the world.
He rubbed his eyes and said to the constable, “Have the secretary draft a notice. You can make a few copies and post them.”
The constable acknowledged with a wry smile, his expression one of helplessness. Copying the notice was not the difficult part; the challenge lay in posting them throughout the city and then having constables, deputy constables, and yamen clerks stand by to read them to the illiterate populace. It usually took a few hours before they could have a drink of water and rest.
“Why, when they clearly knew there was a problem in the river, did they refuse to report it to the yamen and instead deceive themselves into treating the monster as a river god, even erecting an unofficial shrine for it?” Xu Qiqi couldn't suppress her indignation and asked in a low voice.
The people in the room were momentarily at a loss for words. Some things in the world were too unfortunate to explain. For instance, even martial artists knew to approach the local yamen when encountering trouble, but ordinary people would rather endure hardship themselves than go near an official office. It was as if the place, meant to serve and benefit the people, was a treacherous domain filled with wolves and tigers, only remembered when they suffered greatly and were at their wits' end.
“It’s because there are too many corrupt officials, making the people afraid to come here,” the young man Jiang He snorted, his brow furrowed with dissatisfaction, harboring strong animosity towards officials.
Upon hearing this, Zhao Yuansong immediately reprimanded him and hastily bowed to Yuan Yongcheng, pulling his junior brother along to apologize repeatedly. After all, the young man's statement was tantamount to slapping the magistrate in the face, especially since Yuan Yongcheng not only treated them as honored guests but also bestowed a generous gift.
However, Yuan Yongcheng's composure was truly remarkable. His expression did not change, and he even comforted the restless young man, stating that youthful passion and impulsiveness were harmless.
“However, this unofficial shrine might just be an opportunity for us,” Ji Yuan suddenly said, deflecting the young man's transgression.
Seeing everyone turn their gaze to him, he pondered for a moment. “This unofficial shrine is not only a protective umbrella for that monster but also the key to luring it out again.”
The unofficial shrine erected by the common folk provided the monster with a considerable amount of incense offerings and a degree of spiritual protection. The incense offerings allowed the catfish spirit to cultivate smoothly, even stealing a trace of the mountain and water’s authority, enabling it to better gather the essence of the Xiyu River's water currents. As for spiritual protection, it was self-explanatory.
However, while benefiting from this, the monster had become linked, even bound, to this unofficial shrine. It could be said that their fortunes were intertwined, for better or worse.
“Fellow Daoist means to force it out by destroying the unofficial shrine?” Zhao Yuansong mused. “That is indeed a method. After nearly a hundred years of incense offerings, even from only some of the people along the Xiyu River, it should be enough for the monster to manifest a golden body.”
Historically, the immortal and mundane paths were not separate. Although they appeared as two distinct traditions, their ultimate goals were the same. Therefore, Ji Yuan had merely opened the discussion, and Zhao Yuansong had already grasped his idea and extrapolated its essence.
“Regardless of whether the monster has condensed a golden body, after centuries of receiving incense offerings, it is already inseparable from the unofficial shrine. Once the shrine is damaged or even destroyed, its foundation will be shaken, and it is even possible for it to perish!” Zhao Yuansong’s eyes gleamed brighter.
Ordinary monsters would not have such a fatal flaw. However, receiving incense offerings changed things; it was akin to having one foot in the divine realm. If this catfish spirit, while receiving incense, had truly benefited the local populace and accumulated a modicum of merit, it might even have been officially recognized by the court and become the legitimate river god of the Xiyu River. In such a case, the unofficial shrine would be protected by the fate of the Great Yu Dynasty, and even a powerful cultivator would not dare to destroy it, lest they face the backlash of the dynasty’s fate.
However, the monster chose to inflict harm upon the region, its body filled with sin. Even if the unofficial shrine were damaged or destroyed, not only would there be no repercussions, but a bit of merit might even descend.