Chapter 2: Rebirth (II)

Chapter 2: Rebirth (II)

Wenren Yue did not understand why Le Wuya's expression suddenly became so complex.

He also couldn't be bothered to think about it.

After coughing softly twice, Wenren Yue's form grew even fainter and more transparent.

Sensing something was wrong, Le Wuya raised his hand and gripped Wenren Yue's arm.

Just moments ago, Wenren Yue had been able to reach out and support Le Wuya, but now, in such a short time, he had visibly weakened.

If this continued, in just a few breaths, he would vanish on the spot.

Strangely enough, when Le Wuya touched Wenren Yue, although a wave of cold weariness rose from within him, Wenren Yue's transparent soul actually grew more solid.

Sensing the drain on his own vitality, Le Wuya did not let go; instead, he tightened his grip and pulled his soul toward the door.

"Tell me where to find someone who is about to die or has just died. The sooner, the better," Le Wuya said bluntly. "You're dying."

Wenren Yue did not grasp his intent. "My death is of no consequence..."

Le Wuya ignored his heroic speech and shot back, "If you die, what about me?"

Wenren Yue was caught off guard, and Le Wuya dragged him out.

Le Wuya now knew nothing about Wenren Yue except his name.

If Wenren Yue were just a commoner, it would be easy enough, but he was an official.

Regardless of rank, being in office meant endless entanglements and complexities.

If Wenren Yue were gone, how could this uninvited guest from four years ago survive?

Right now, Wenren Yue was on the brink of death, and the best idea Le Wuya could think of was to find a dying person's body and shove him into it.

He didn't want to kill someone outright.

Le Wuya himself could handle such a deed, but Wenren Yue was an innocent man; he couldn't cause trouble for him.

After this was over, he would have to find a way to give him back the body.

As he walked, Le Wuya said, "Think quickly. Where could there be one? The public morgue, the prison, the graveyard..."

With that, Le Wuya looked around and happened to spot a clerk carrying a stack of files passing through the moon gate. He immediately called out, "You, come here."

The clerk was startled and turned to face him.

By the moonlight, Le Wuya easily saw the blue ribbon tied around the files, marked with numbers.

These were criminal case files.

Then a pang of bitterness struck him, then joy:

...He could actually see clearly now.

The penal clerk scurried forward. "Your Honor, what business do you have?"

Le Wuya replied, "Find someone, prepare a sedan chair, and go to—"

Le Wuya tilted his head slightly, looking at Wenren Yue, signaling him to give the destination quickly.

Wenren Yue had a pretty good idea where, his voice dropping subtly. "To the South City Jail."

Le Wuya finished his instructions crisply: "—the South City Jail."

The clerk was clearly taken aback and asked, "So late, what would you be going there for, Your Honor?"

Le Wuya gave him a once-over.

From the clerk's lazy, indifferent attitude, Le Wuya confirmed two things.

First, no one else could see Wenren Yue's soul beside him.

Second, Wenren Yue himself had no authority whatsoever.

Le Wuya found this odd.

This dynasty has always used the avoidance system for officials—county magistrates could not serve in their hometowns. But the clerks of the yamen didn't follow this rule; they were mostly local natives, entrenched forces.

Although a strong dragon cannot crush a local serpent, one would still put up a front, wouldn't one?

Wenren Yue had given an order, but not only did the clerk not move, he even dared to question him to his face?

Le Wuya smiled slyly. "What did you call me?"

The clerk paused, hesitating. "'...Your Honor'?"

Le Wuya said, "Oh. I thought you were my grandfather."

Minor clerks were best at reading expressions and tones. Le Wuya's sarcasm was not lost on this one.

He immediately bowed deeply. "Don't get angry, Your Honor. I'll prepare the sedan chair right away. Please wait a moment."

He was all flattery and swift action, trotting off.

But Le Wuya could already see through the game. He asked Wenren Yue, "Will he actually prepare a sedan chair for you?"

Wenren Yue shook his head with a wry smile.

He couldn't get these clerks to move, and it hadn't been just one or two days.

But they were always polite in front of him, agreeing readily to his instructions, only to vanish without a trace the moment he turned his back.

When things went wrong and Wenren Yue demanded accountability, they would sweat and bow, blaming themselves, while a group of local clerks chimed in with excuses—so many unavoidable difficulties, so many important tasks, as if punishing them would make Wenren Yue a man who couldn't tell friend from foe or right from wrong.

Wenren Yue had punished and rewarded, but it had little effect.

Hearing this, Le Wuya wasted no more words and dragged him straight to the stable.

Even if this young magistrate's words carried no weight, he could at least commandeer a horse from the county office.

As Le Wuya chose a horse, Wenren Yue stood obediently aside, feeling uneasy. "Do you know what to do?"

Le Wuya picked the most handsome one, vaulted onto its back with a scholar's ease and a warrior's panache, skillfully turned the horse's head, and answered simply, "No idea. Let's just get you stuffed in first."

With that, he reached out his hand to Wenren Yue. "Come on, Brother Wenren, I'm finding you a way to live."

Wen Renyue looked up at him, stood stunned for a moment, then obediently placed his hand in his.

The moonlight fell like fine salt, thin and even.

Le Wuya issued a travel pass for himself on the spot, then rode together on one horse with a spirit on the verge of dissipating, galloped through the silent, cold night.

The cold wind of the winter night was especially good at clearing your head.

Many thoughts that he had no time to consider earlier came rolling in with the night breeze.

Memories related to many people surged like waves, but Le Wuya pushed them down quietly.

Le Wuya lowered his gaze slightly, holding the reins with one hand, while with the other he clasped Wen Renyue's cold hand in his palm and wrapped it around his own waist.

This could ensure that he would not immediately dissipate.

At this moment, Le Wuya also desperately needed someone by his side.

Even if they had been complete strangers before today.

Beyond that, Le Wuya had his own plans.

Given Wen Renyue's current state, he might not be able to make it to the South City Prison.

Even if he made it, who could guarantee that he would successfully possess that person?

Therefore, before Wen Renyue vanished into thin air, Le Wuya needed to get as much information as he could.

He asked, "Where is this place?"

Wen Renyue had the same thought; knowing he was living on borrowed time and might dissipate at any moment, he sped up his words, "Nanting County, Yizhou."

Le Wuya had the whole map of Dayu memorized, and he knew a thing or two about this small county of Nanting.

It was a county town at the border between the Jing tribe and Dayu, not particularly fertile or wealthy itself, but strategically placed, with a waterway running through it and a sizable bridge, where merchants often came and went.

Le Wuya then asked, "How many li (administrative units) are under household registration?"

"Ten li. A total of one thousand one hundred households, with a population of six thousand four hundred."

"How many criminal cases in the past month? How many civil cases?"

"One criminal case, thirty-one civil cases."

After asking a few more questions, Le Wuya had a rough idea.

Although weak, Wen Renyue answered without hesitation and responded to every question.

He was indeed young and green, even a bit dull, but by no means a clueless official.

So here was the problem.

He was only twenty-five or twenty-six, yet already held a seventh-rank position. Such a young talent with seemingly unlimited prospects and a not-bad temper—if these minor officials were willing to butter him up, they could later ride on his coattails and rise by association, which wouldn't be too difficult.

But looking at the perfunctory attitude of that Penal Clerk toward Wen Renyue, it was clear he didn't take him seriously at all, as if he'd never get anywhere in his career.

Why was he so unwelcome?

Soon, Le Wuya thought of a possibility: "...You didn't come through the proper imperial examinations, did you?"

"...No."

Wen Renyue was taken aback, not knowing how Le Wuya had seen through that.

But he was truly honest, answering whatever was asked: "I bought my official position."

"How far did you get in the exams?"

"Tribute Student. Sixth place (a rank called Yayuan) in the provincial exams."

Le Wuya raised his eyebrows again, "So young, and already a provincial graduate?"

He asked, "Then why didn't you continue taking the exams?"

Wen Renyue sighed softly and answered truthfully: "In the year I passed the provincial exam, I was twenty-two. Unexpectedly, my mother fell seriously ill and passed away. I observed three years of mourning, and my aspirations gradually changed."

"I am a dull person by nature, and I never enjoyed officialdom, especially after my mother's death. I just wanted to stay by my father's side and accompany him to his old age."

"My family has sold rice for generations, with some modest wealth. He always hoped I would pass the exams and enter officialdom to bring glory to the family. Two years ago, there was a drought in Jiangnan. My father donated half his fortune to help the townspeople through the crisis. The local Provincial Administration Commissioner Jiang Kai praised my father highly and, pulling some strings, I obtained a substitute position through grain contribution."

Le Wuya nodded.

That made sense.

His non-exam background made officials look down on him; his merchant background made petty clerks also look down on him.

No wonder he was hemmed in on all sides.

But this didn't seem quite right either.

Although Nanting County was on the frontier and not particularly prosperous, it had the advantage of location—not a gravy post, but not a difficult one either.

A good place like this had many people craning their necks waiting. How could some lowly Tribute Student shoot up so fast to such a substantive post?

This didn't have much to do with the current situation, but Le Wuya made a mental note and then asked, "Are you married? Do you have family? Any close friends or confidants?"

He had bought a houseful of red candles and made a dramatic display of suicide—how come there was no one close to stop him?

"I have never married. I used to have a servant, who grew up with me, but when he accompanied me on the boat to take up my post, he was too busy looking at the scenery and fell overboard..."

Le Wuya tightened his grip around his hand a little.

For Le Wuya, it was perfect that this man had no attachments, no relatives or friends.

As for Wen Renyue himself, only he knew how much pain and loneliness he felt.

While holding the reins with one hand and making a trail of crisp hoofbeats, Le Wuya asked the most important question: "Why go to the prison? Who are you planning to possess?"

"There's a person locked up in prison. I know he's about to die," Wen Renyue said.

Le Wuya: "Who?"

Wen Renyue hesitated.

Le Wuya thought he was gathering his thoughts, waited a long time, but still got no answer.

Le Wuya gently nudged him with his elbow: "Hey, cat got your tongue?"

Wen Renyue blinked, thinking that this kind person who had unexpectedly possessed his body was very witty and free-spirited, around the same age as him.

Thinking of this, he relaxed slightly and stopped calling himself "this humble official": "He's caught up in a major case, accused of treason with rock-solid evidence, and his elderly mother got dragged into it and thrown in jail. He fell gravely ill and is now fading fast. I believe he was falsely accused, and I don't want to send in the case files as they are, hoping we can look into it more carefully. But since it involves treason, this is a serious matter. The Prefect himself has come many times to question me, pushing me to hand over the files ASAP. I don't want to go against my conscience, but seeing him on the verge of death and his mother suffering too, I just can't stand it..."

Because his spirit was weak, his voice came out soft and distant: "Honestly, I don't know if I'm right or wrong. Talking too much might affect your judgment, so I'll leave it at that."

Le Wuya was caught off guard by this.

He had a rather far-fetched idea.

Wen Renyue had no pull at court and his words carried little weight, so he hanged himself and wrote a memorial in blood—could it be that he used his own life to get the emperor's attention and save that man's life?

No matter how shady his background, he was now an Imperial Official.

Apart from bribery, his own life was the only bargaining chip he had in officialdom.

"You tried to die just to beg for a convict's life?"

Wen Renyue was embarrassed.

He knew it was stupid.

"Yes... I had no other way. I never passed the imperial exams and have no teachers or friends in the capital. I've only been in office half a year, don't have a connection with anyone. I wrote a memorial explaining the situation to the Prefect, but it got sent back twice. I had no other ideas—I only had myself to use."

Le Wuya: "...Is that prisoner your friend?"

"No," Wen Renyue replied. "He's a local scholar, no relation to me, not a friend. We'd only met a few times before, and he's about the same age as me—either two years older or two years younger."

Now Le Wuya was convinced they really weren't close.

"...And you'd die for him?"

"I am their magistrate. I figured if I were really their parent, this is what I'd do. Why care about my own life?"

Wen Renyue paused and said softly, "We're here."

Le Wuya pulled lightly on the reins and brought the horse to a stop.

They had made quite a racket along the way, and people were already poking their heads out from the prison gate to look at them.

Le Wuya gestured with his sleeve for the weak Wen Renyue to dismount first: "You go in first."

Wen Renyue grabbed his sleeve, and after dismounting, didn't let go right away.

His face was pale as paper, but his eyes were burning with intensity: "Thank you, sir. Whatever happens next, I'm grateful you listened to me."

Le Wuya sat tall on his horse, leaning down slightly as Wen Renyue tugged him, meeting his eyes.

Wen Renyue looked up at him with such hopeful eyes—a lonely ghost occupying his own body—without bitterness or regret.

He asked, "May I ask, sir, which worthy minister are you?"

Le Wuya: "..."

Sorry, but I am indeed a famous minister of this dynasty. What kind of fame? Hard to say.

But he couldn't tell the truth.

Because Wen Renyue was looking at him like a man on his deathbed.

Le Wuya didn't understand ghosts or spirits, nor did he know if Wen Renyue, having possessed a dying man, could actually survive.

Perhaps he, a magpie occupying a dove's nest, would be kicked out of this body after the man's death.

Both of their fates were uncertain.

So, he should at least leave him with a good memory.

So Le Wuya said, without batting an eye, "Gu Qizhen, courtesy name Hengzhi."

He was a Tanhua from the previous emperor's reign, rose to the rank of Hanlin Bachelor, known for his talent and noble character, but unfortunately Heaven didn't grant him long life—he died young.

Wen Renyue bowed deeply to him and turned into the prison.

Le Wuya dismounted and looked up at the shining bright moon.

...Such is life.

Ever since he opened his eyes, he'd been kicked right back into this world of dust.

Le Wuya grew up in luxury and understood the ways of officialdom and the human heart, but he had never started from the bottom.

Birth, rank, connections—things Le Wuya had at his fingertips in his past life—Wen Renyue had none of them.

Thinking this, Le Wuya smiled slightly.

This is rather interesting, isn't it?

Le Wuya raised a hand to touch his neck, feeling the raised marks of the rope.

Fortunately, his official robes were neat enough to hide the marks.

At the same time, Le Wuya caught a glimpse of a furtive exchange of glances between the guards at the prison gate.

He pretended not to notice and stepped forward.

One of them, apparently having been tipped off, quickly scurried over with an ingratiating smile: "Your Honor, you've had a hard journey."

Le Wuya asked bluntly, "And you are?"

There were countless minor clerks; as the county magistrate, he didn't need to remember every one. Asking was fine.

The man didn't seem to mind, bending slightly: "Your Honor is busy with many affairs, so you may have forgotten me. I am the Chief Jailer on night duty, named Chen Wang."

Le Wuya nodded, indicating he understood.

Warden Chen: "It's so late, Your Honor. If you have important business, couldn't you have sent Secretary Zhang?"

Le Wuya raised an eyebrow: "Is it a bother for me to come?"

While Warden Chen was trying to figure out if this was sarcasm or goodwill, Le Wuya took out his pouch.

Before hanging himself, Wen Renyue had been too distraught to empty it.

Le Wuya picked out two pieces of silver and tossed them casually: "Take this. I came specially to treat you to a drink."

Warden Chen caught them, judged the weight, and was delighted. In his joy, he didn't mind Le Wuya's natural air of a spoiled young master: "Thank you, Your Honor!"

No matter how poor Wen Renyue's standing was in officialdom, he had at least one advantage over others:

His family was in business, so at least he had some liquid assets to fall back on.

Having taken the money, Warden Chen stopped playing dumb and asked cautiously, "Your Honor, are you here to see Scholar Ming again?"

Le Wuya waved his hand. "If you know, why aren't you taking me?"

Warden Chen beamed and bowed repeatedly. "This way, Your Honor!"

After a few steps, Le Wuya noticed that Warden Chen only gestured forward while staying put himself. He stayed alert, and just as he passed the spot by half a foot, he shot a quick glance back—

Warden Chen stealthily signaled to two jailers.

Both jailers clearly understood his meaning.

When Le Wuya was a dozen or so paces away from Warden Chen, he closed his eyes to sharpen his hearing.

Hurried footsteps faded into the night behind him.

...A jailer had left his post without permission to go tip someone off.

Clearly, in officialdom, it's not what you pay, but who you know.

Even though Wen Renyue had plenty of money, that didn't stop the prison staff from taking his money, doing nothing, and rushing off to snitch to their real boss.

But Le Wuya felt neither upset nor angry.

On the contrary, he felt pretty at ease:

No matter how the personnel shifted, at least this bureaucracy was still the same old rotten mess it was before he died.

It felt like coming home.