Chapter 5: Turning the Tables (1)

Chapter 5: Turning the Tables (1)

Early in the morning, Sun Ru—the deputy magistrate—reported for duty in excellent spirits.

The wine at Master Chen's estate had been good; the two had enjoyed good drinks and conversation, everything falling neatly into place.

As soon as he entered the hall, Secretary Zhang from the Criminal Affairs Office greeted him with a bow: "Good morning, Your Honor."

Deputy Magistrate Sun waved dismissively.

Secretary Zhang took the hint and leaned in close.

Deputy Magistrate Sun asked: "Did Wenren Mingke go to the prison last night? Did he find out anything?"

Secretary Zhang gave an awkward smile: "It was too late last night, really. I tried to stall him, but he moved quickly and went on his own. I couldn't keep up. Still, there are always people in Nanting keeping an eye on things for you. Chen Wang, Chief Jailer to Master Chen, came by this morning and asked me to tell you that Scholar Ming had indeed cried out his innocence to Wenren Mingke last night."

Deputy Magistrate Sun frowned: "Still not giving up?"

"He might be delirious from illness," Secretary Zhang said. "Also, Chen Wang had something he wanted me to pass on to you..."

Lowering his voice, he repeated to Deputy Magistrate Sun the plan Le Wuya had shared with Chen Wang to force Scholar Ming's confession.

But Deputy Magistrate Sun wasn't convinced.

He said: "He changed his tune that quickly? Could be he's plotting something else."

Secretary Zhang seized the moment to flatter: "No matter how clever that Sun Wukong is, he can't escape the Buddha's palm. And besides..."

He jerked his chin: "That one? A complete Sha Monk!"

Deputy Magistrate Sun chuckled, about to crack a joke, when Clerk Duan from the Household Office hurried over: "Deputy Magistrate, the magistrate is in the back hall. He says come see him as soon as you arrive."

Secretary Zhang's round eyes widened: "Watch your tongue! Don't you know who the real boss is?"

Clerk Duan seemed slow on the uptake; scolded but unfazed, he just gave a bewildered grin.

Deputy Magistrate Sun waved dismissively: "I'm going now."

He smoothed his sleeves, clasped his hands behind his back, and walked toward the back hall.

Secretary Zhang might have been a bootlicker, but he had a point.

Even Sun Wukong himself couldn't pull any tricks on this case.

The witnesses were their people, and Scholar Ming had already signed his confession.

With plenty of evidence and witnesses, if that Wenren Yue insisted on being obstinate and delaying the case, he had already gotten a reputation with the prefect for being obstinate and uncooperative.

If the prefect grew tired of his stalling, all it would take is a report to have Wenren Yue stripped of his purchased official post.

Everyone should know their place.

If you're not fit for the position, disaster is only a matter of time.

By the time Deputy Magistrate Sun stepped into the back hall, he had erased all scheming from his expression and bowed respectfully: "Good morning, magistrate."

Le Wuya was reading a book. Seeing him enter, he kept the book in hand, motioned with a glance for him to sit.

Deputy Magistrate Sun's original intent was to urge Le Wuya to submit the case files quickly, but he couldn't just ask bluntly how long he planned to stall. So he sat down and said politely: "Magistrate, so hard at work this early..."

He glanced at the book in Le Wuya's hands and fell silent.

It was a martial arts novel, the cover showed two small figures sword-fighting.

Deputy Magistrate Sun couldn't finish his flattery. Instead, he changed the subject: "Magistrate, will you hold court today?"

Le Wuya shook his head, quickly scanned down to confirm that the swordsman had defeated the demon, then sighed contentedly, put down the book, and sat up straight: "Deputy Magistrate Sun, I'd like to speak with you from the heart."

Deputy Magistrate Sun, far from feeling relieved, grew more cautious: "Please, speak."

No good meeting, no good talk.

Who knew what tricks he was up to this time?

Sure enough, the young man couldn't keep his cool and revealed his intention as soon as he opened his mouth: "What do you think about Scholar Ming's case?"

Deputy Magistrate Sun deftly deflected: "What worthy opinions could I have? I simply follow the law."

Le Wuya rested his chin on the book: "The law is merciless. What can be done?"

Deputy Magistrate Sun just smiled ingratiatingly, refusing to take the bait, waiting to see how Le Wuya would strike.

But Le Wuya waved his hand: "All right, that's all. You can go."

Deputy Magistrate Sun: "That's it?" he thought.

Filled with suspicion, he didn't immediately take his leave.

Le Wuya glanced at him: "Deputy Magistrate, is there something else? I still have to hit the books."

Deputy Magistrate Sun found the way he was addressed irritating.

In the past, Wenren Yue would formally call him "Deputy Magistrate Sun," but adding "Your Honor" always made it sound sarcastic.

Deputy Magistrate Sun glanced at the martial arts novel in his hand and smiled: "Magistrate, if you're not holding court today, how about we handle the main business?"

"Let's do it," Le Wuya replied, once again surprising him.

"I went to the southern city prison last night. Deputy Magistrate, your informants are everywhere in Nanting, so you must already know." He tapped the book beside him: "The case files and documents have been reorganized. Just have someone send them up. Tell the prefect that I'm at a crucial point in this book—the martial arts tournament is right around the corner—so I won't deliver it in person."

Deputy Magistrate Sun felt unsettled again.

In the past, Wenren Yue was transparent and easy to read and easy to manipulate.

But now, he could no longer get a handle on him.

He forced a smile: "Magistrate, you're joking. I'll take it right over. If the prefect asks, I'll say you're ill—if that's all right with you?"

Le Wuya lowered the book slightly, revealing a pair of smiling eyes over the top of the page: "Whatever you like. Say I died, I wouldn't care."

Deputy Magistrate Sun: "..."

He had never seen this side of Wenren Yue.

Not knowing how to respond, Deputy Magistrate Sun simply smiled.

He couldn't tell if it was his imagination, but Wenren Yue's originally dark pupils had a faint purple tint. At first glance, it looked like a fox spirit had possessed him.

Deputy Magistrate Sun sat bolt upright, pushing thoughts of the supernatural out of his mind.

He'd never really studied this magistrate before. Now that he'd suddenly changed, was someone pulling the strings, or...

His mind buzzing with schemes, Deputy Magistrate Sun leaned forward and took the case files.

After a quick flip through, he froze.

If the righteous Master Wenren had just blundered ahead pushing Scholar Ming's innocence, Deputy Magistrate Sun wouldn't have been this shocked.

The whole file had been recopied in that same neat, upright regular script.

The gist was still Scholar Ming's rebellion, with his signature and fingerprint at the bottom.

But the ink looked fresh...

Le Wuya suddenly interjected, "The previous case file has a big problem."

Deputy Magistrate Sun was deep in the file, his mind wandering, and nearly lost his place.

Since his superior was talking, he couldn't just stare at the file. So he closed it and looked up, "By all means, Your Honor."

Le Wuya commented, "Too clean."

Clean?

Deputy Magistrate Sun caught on fast: "Scholar Ming was holding back, wouldn't come clean, so..."

Le Wuya set down his book and picked up his teacup: "Deputy Magistrate, you're short on experience. You've never handled a rebellion case before, have you?"

Deputy Magistrate Sun couldn't help thinking: As if you've handled a ton.

Le Wuya sipped: "Anyone who's dealt with rebellion cases knows they're usually group affairs. Pull out one turnip and you drag up a whole clump of mud. Easy to implicate a whole string of people. But this 'rebellion' file has only Scholar Ming and his old mother—that just won't do."

Deputy Magistrate Sun frowned.

He'd thought Scholar Ming, being wrongfully accused, would be furious and drag a few unlucky souls to hell with him.

But as it turned out, Scholar Ming was aloof, self-righteous, and pedantic—no friends, no classmates who liked him. Yet facing death, he held no grudges and didn't point fingers.

And Master Chen also thought it best not to drag too many in. It'd draw attention, and the more folks involved, the more could go wrong.

Deputy Magistrate Sun replied at a measured pace: "They say a scholar's rebellion takes three years to brew—maybe he was just mulling treason in his head, hadn't gotten around to forming a faction. Your Honor, some scholars are like that: with a smattering of book learning, they think they can spout off about state affairs. Arrogant as hell."

"No accomplices? Then where'd the book come from?"

"You know where I got this book?" Le Wuya rattled the pages, answering himself: "Street stall. Three coppers."

"This piece of junk cost as much as a bundle of firewood. In this world, everything comes from somewhere. So where did Scholar Ming get his banned book? He didn't write it himself—sure it wasn't off some street stall like mine?"

"Every rebellion case needs the emperor's approval. His Majesty cares about the exams and talent. When he hears scholars are involved, he'll ask a ton of questions. If a key point like 'where did the book come from' isn't clear, it'll be sent back for a retrial."

Deputy Magistrate Sun pondered.

Tough problem.

But he wasn't the county's top official—it wasn't his job to solve it.

He shrugged: "Your Honor, like I said, Scholar Ming's playing dumb, won't talk."

"He did talk." Le Wuya set down his teacup. "Questioned him last night. The print's fresh. Look, it's right here."

Only then did Deputy Magistrate Sun glance down at the file.

A closer look sent a jolt through him. He shot to his feet.

Le Wuya looked puzzled: "Deputy Magistrate, what's wrong?"

Deputy Magistrate Sun fought to keep his voice steady: "He says he got the book from Instructor Luo?"

Le Wuya nodded: "Yes."

Instructor Luo, full name Luo Yanqing, was the county's teacher for over thirty years. Devoted, never married, no kids—treated his students like sons. When he died, he had nothing but his books, which he donated to the academy. He's in the county annals.

In short, he was the conscience and pride of little Nan Ting County—an indisputably good man.

"Ridiculous!" Deputy Magistrate Sun couldn't contain his anger. "Instructor Luo taught students all over, and he's been dead for years. How could he lend out a banned book? This Ming Xiangzhao is slandering for no reason—despicable!"

He was furious, but Le Wuya was perfectly calm: "Deputy Magistrate, look carefully. When he was alive, Instructor Luo said he had no children, only a thousand books he treated like sons. He left them at Nan Ting Academy for anyone to read. A truly good man."

"What a shame," he said, shaking his head. "A lifetime of good deeds, and now his reputation might be ruined."

Deputy Magistrate Sun's face went dark.

Many of Luo's students had passed the exams and become officials, some as high as rank three.

Even Sun Ru—himself—was his student. It was Instructor Luo's guidance that got him where he was today.

How dare that Ming slander his teacher?!

His anger boiling over, Deputy Magistrate Sun dropped all pretense: "That Ming knows he's a dead man, so he's throwing around accusations. Your Honor, you're not actually buying this, are you?!"

Le Wuya: "What do you suggest?"

"Put him to torture! Teach him what happens when you slander people!"

"Fine." Le Wuya nodded elegantly. "That wreck of a body of his—the moment he's tied up, before any torture, he'll die. Then this confession becomes his final word, and we can't change it."

Seeing Sun at a loss, Le Wuya asked with feigned curiosity: "And how is this reckless? He only named one guy, and that guy's got no family—hardly a far-reaching slander."

Deputy Magistrate Sun blurted, "Ever since His Majesty took the throne, most scholars in Nan Ting were taught by Instructor Luo. If this accusation sticks, his name gets dragged through the mud. How will the Nan Ting scholars feel? They'll lose all faith—"

At that, Deputy Magistrate Sun finally caught on.

He looked up, locking eyes with Le Wuya.

Le Wuya was already watching him, a hint of a smile on his face.

"And you, Deputy Magistrate Sun, you're one of those Nan Ting scholars too, aren't you?" Le Wuya placed a hand on his chest theatrically. "You're my right-hand man. If you lose faith in me, I'd be heartbroken."

Le Wuya knew the Nan Ting scholars wouldn't lose faith.

What would be ruined was their future.

That respected teacher, immortalized in the county annals, had probably boosted their careers plenty.

But if this instructor were implicated in a conspiracy of rebellion, their official careers would inevitably be clouded.

It might not get them fired right away, but in this line of work, you're bound to make enemies.

If someone with a grudge brought this up just when they were up for promotion, they'd never get promoted again.

And as for the current emperor's temperament, Le Wuya knew all too well.

This was perfect material to exploit.

He could kill some, demote some, and promote some—just like he used to when he was the emperor's right-hand man.

Deputy Magistrate Sun hadn't even thought about the emperor's temperament.

Just thinking about who this case might implicate sent a cold sweat down his back.

But he would never have imagined that such a malicious scheme could have come from this spineless Master Wenren.

In truth, when Le Wuya had lifted his brush the night before, intending to fabricate this confession out of thin air, he asked himself under the moonlight:

Instructor Luo was a good man.

Was it right to gamble with a dead man's reputation—someone who couldn't defend himself?

He arrived at an answer with astonishing speed:

If Instructor Luo truly was a good man, then this was exactly the right thing to do.

He's been dead for years; what's wrong with using his name to save another life that still has a chance to survive?

Deputy Magistrate Sun was not about to take this lying down.

His face darkened, "The books donated by Instructor Luo were personally copied and cataloged by the new instructor. Every book is recorded and accounted for. So how would Your Honor explain the sudden appearance of several unaccounted volumes of seditious texts?"

Le Wuya answered smoothly, "Have you forgotten? Two years ago, there was a theft at Nanting Academy, and many books were lost, along with the registration ledger. The academy head reported it to the yamen, and the former County Magistrate ordered the academy to recopy and reorganize the catalog. This is clearly recorded in the case files. And what a coincidence—guess which scholars the academy invited to help with the recataloging?"

Scholar Ming, perpetually unlucky, had finally caught a lucky break in this matter.

After his father's death, the Ming family had always been tight on money. Whenever the academy had work—be it festival decorations or copying manuscripts—Scholar Ming would lend a hand to earn a meager living.

Thus, he would have had access to those books.

Deputy Magistrate Sun felt a chill run through him. "...Even this you know?"

"And I also know that among the books Instructor Luo donated, there were indeed seditious texts, yet the current instructor failed to catalog them. Either he concealed the truth or was negligent in his duties—either way, he must be held accountable. The other scholars in Nanting County who were not taught by Instructor Luo are unlikely to escape suspicion either."

Le Wuya rolled up the document, rested it against his head, and studied the drenched Deputy Magistrate Sun with keen interest. "Deputy Magistrate, look—this is what a proper rebellion case looks like. Pull one thread, and the whole thing unravels; no one gets away. If this case is handled well, His Majesty is sure to reward us. So why don't you carefully consider if there are any disloyal individuals you'd like to include in your report to His Majesty?"

The matter was too grave for Deputy Magistrate Sun to keep up his high-and-mighty act. "Your Honor, please stop joking!"

"Why would I joke with you?" Le Wuya stood up, paced behind him, and asked leisurely, "Do you know who the Provincial Judge is?"

Deputy Magistrate Sun had no idea why he suddenly brought up the Provincial Judge, but he dared not act presumptuously. Biting back his anxiety, he replied, "The current Provincial Judge is Lord Ji Shiming, a jinshi of the Yiyou year."

Le Wuya sighed to himself.

Ji Ying.

His fellow graduate had risen quickly.

Back then, Le Wuya had written commentaries on all the court officials and submitted them to the emperor. In passing, he had suggested that Ji Ying Ji Shiming was better suited for criminal justice than being a censor.

The emperor had asked, curious, why he thought so.

Le Wuya remembered his reply: "Your Majesty, Ji Shiming is pedantic and upright, meticulous in his thinking, but he prioritizes details over the big picture. If someone fabricated a case complete with forged evidence, testimony, and witnesses, he would be very likely to follow procedure and only investigate according to the submitted files. A man of such straightforward temperament, if made a censor, would easily become someone else's tool—a blade in their hand."

The emperor asked, "Then why assign him to criminal justice?"

Le Wuya answered, "To answer Your Majesty: First, most county clerks lack the ability to fabricate a coherent case file—it's not easy. Here, his attention to detail comes in handy. Second, although the world is full of wrongful convictions, there are even more cases that are obvious at a glance, yet the lower officials dare not judge, cannot judge, or are uncertain how to judge. In such cases, that's where his strengths shine."

The emperor fell silent for a long time before nodding. "You certainly speak your mind."

One could say that when the emperor was determined to kill Le Wuya, he also truly trusted his judgment of talent.

Le Wuya's earlier advice to transfer Ji Ying to criminal justice had turned out to help himself in the end.

After all, though there were few in the world who could fabricate a solid case file, Le Wuya happened to be one of them.

"Lord Ji loves bamboo, and his character is as upright and meticulous as bamboo. If we used the previous case file, it wouldn't even pass his scrutiny, let alone be presented to His Majesty. Alas, I'll have to put in more legwork to plan thoroughly for you."

Le Wuya took a folding fan from his sleeve, bent slightly, and began fanning the sweat-soaked Deputy Magistrate Sun. His demeanor and tone were familiar, but his words were chilling.

"Deputy Magistrate Sun need not worry too much. It's the fault of those who wanted to frame Ming Xiangzhao—they were dead set on accusing him of rebellion. If they wanted to crush him instantly, they should've just framed him for murder. Just set up a roadside teahouse, hire a desperate man to provoke a fight—Scholar Ming has such a temper, after all... it's just a matter of spending a bit more money."

Deputy Magistrate Sun was totally lost by what he said.

He suddenly couldn't figure this man out at all.

...Not even a little.

Author's note:

From *The History of Yu: Biographies of Treacherous Officials* · Le Wuya: "...He engaged in fraud, forging one hundred and twenty documents and stealing twenty-one official seals. When the emperor confronted him, he replied, 'Your subject's abilities are truly limited. Recently I have been doodling a few banknotes, but have not yet completed them.'"