Chapter 9: Setting the Net (2)

Chapter 9: Setting the Net (2)

Le Wuya did not rush to hear the case but instead threw all the gamblers into the South City prison at once.

For a time, it was as chaotic as a fish market, full of noise and chaos.

Cries of injustice, arguments, and gamblers blaming each other filled the air.

Ge Erzi, for his audacity in robbing the county magistrate right before his eyes, was guilty of a heinous crime and was locked in a solitary cell right next to Wenren Yue's.

Wenren Yue, who had been dozing, was awakened by his annoying groans.

This new body and his soul were equally weak. After taking his medicine, Wenren Yue fell into a deep sleep.

When he woke up, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.

Yesterday the prison had been empty; when had so many people arrived?

What surprised him even more was that his cell neighbor was someone familiar.

If he remembered correctly, this was the man who had set up Chang Xiaohu to be sent to the coal mine...

Although Ge Erzi was injured, the arrowhead had only pierced his flesh, not the bone; it was merely a flesh wound.

Maybe because a lowly man's life is tough, he was still in good spirits, groaning "ouch ouch" out of pure boredom, just wanting others to pay attention to him.

He hadn't been able to tell who was in the dark cell, but now that Wenren Yue woke up and sat up, Ge Erzi saw his face and was taken aback.

Scholar Ming had been pestering him relentlessly for half a year over Chang Xiaohu's case, and Ge Erzi was thoroughly sick of that annoying scholar, wishing him dead every day.

He hadn't expected his curse to come true; the scholar had actually committed a crime worthy of death.

Ge Erzi had the street smarts of a common man; his intuition told him there was something behind it, but he didn't dare to say more, so he kept his head down and minded his own business.

Now, seeing this death-row prisoner again, he felt a vague unease and irritation.

So he roared viciously, "What are you looking at?!"

Wenren Yue was startled by his outburst and asked in return, "Why are you in prison? Is it because of Chang Xiaohu's case?"

Ge Erzi: "..."

Wenren Yue's direct words made him even more uneasy. He roughly replied with a "Get lost!" then rolled into a corner, hugging his legs, the more he thought, the more uneasy he grew, even forgetting his pain.

Wenren Yue touched his lips and suddenly remembered that Le Wuya had told him not to speak.

Feeling deeply guilty, he picked up a small pebble, wiped it clean, put it in his mouth, and refused to say another word.

Wenren Yue was not the only one who couldn't sleep that night.

Chen Wang, the chief jailer of the South City prison, had been busy all day and had just lain down for a bit when Master Chen came to fetch him back.

Sleep-deprived, he was full of anger, but since he owed his position as chief jailer to Master Chen's patronage, he had to put on a smiling face.

But when he heard Master Chen's account of the raid on Jixiangfang by the county magistrate, he was jolted awake, his drowsiness gone.

He had secretly invested in Jixiangfang!

His heart ached, but Master Chen had other plans on his mind.

After hearing Master Chen out, Chen Wang felt a chill run down his spine: "You mean, you want me to... that Ge Erzi..."

Master Chen: "You don't want to?"

Chen Wang quickly waved his hands: "No, no, I wouldn't dare. But, uncle, tonight is not my shift..."

Master Chen suppressed his impatience and leaned back: "So you still refuse."

Chen Wang's skin crawled.

He knew that his ability to throw his weight around in Nanting depended entirely on his maternal uncle.

Without his support, he was nothing.

He hurriedly knelt down, and in his desperation, his mind sharpened: "Uncle, let me explain. It's not only that. You said just now that Master Wenren has arrested many gamblers, at least a few dozen people. The South City prison must already be full, and it's so small, with too many eyes and ears, making it hard to do anything."

That was true enough.

Master Chen stroked his beard in thought.

He felt that the situation was becoming puzzling.

This Wenren Yue had been raising a ruckus every day about overturning Scholar Ming's case, and now suddenly he had changed tack and inexplicably raided Jixiangfang. And Ge Erzi was among those caught, shot in the street by Wenren Yue. It was bound to arouse suspicion.

Most importantly, where was Deputy Magistrate Sun?

After receiving the news, Master Chen had sent someone to find Deputy Magistrate Sun, wanting to know what game the county magistrate was playing.

But the officer on duty said that Deputy Magistrate Sun was on official business and not in the yamen.

Seeing Master Chen lost in thought without speaking, Chen Wang didn't dare to get up.

After a short while, Master Chen finally spoke.

"Go to Sihai Tower and order a fine feast. ...Come to think of it, it's about time I meet this county magistrate."

Fifteen minutes later, Le Wuya received a still-wet invitation.

Having received an invitation, Le Wuya gladly went.

Some things are indeed best said face to face.

However, when Le Wuya, dressed in civilian clothes, arrived at Sihai Tower, he paused, took a step back, and looked up at this historic inn.

The moon was like frost, lanterns hung high, and faint, elegant zither music drifted from within. Everything seemed normal.

But somehow, Le Wuya's gut told him something was off about this restaurant.

...It felt like the place had been meticulously "sanitized"—an unusual sensation, as if some important personage was present.

Le Wuya had experienced such scenes many times in his past life, so he was particularly sensitive.

His heart suddenly sank.

Could he have misjudged?

Was this Master Chen, far from the court, truly capable of such schemes?

Before he could think further, a man with a long face and a slightly plump build, a senior secretary, stepped out with a dignified gait: "Master Wenren, a humble commoner welcomes you late. Please don't take offense."

Le Wuya immediately composed his face: "Master Chen."

Master Chen smiled gently and made a gesture: "Please."

The meal was thrown together in a hurry, with only the two of them.

No sooner had they settled in than dishes and wine were brought in a steady stream.

"These are all local dishes. I hope you don't find them too rough," Master Chen said as he picked up a glass flask. "I've heard your father is of the Jing people. I have some grape wine from my family cellar; its flavor is not bad. Please, try it and see if it's authentic?"

At that moment, two princes, separated from them by a single wall, sat across from each other in silence.

To avoid being too conspicuous, although they had booked out the entire Four Seas Tavern, they did not forbid locals from dining there.

They were merely having a late-night snack in the finest private room, never expecting to encounter the show of a Senior Secretary hosting a banquet for the County Magistrate.

The Sixth Prince whispered, "...Jing people."

The Seventh Prince said, "Sixth Brother, the realm is at peace now; intermarriage between the two peoples is as common as fish in the sea. No need to get all emotional just because you see a Jing person."

The Sixth Prince glanced at him.

"...I never said who I was thinking of, so there's no need to snap at me like that."

The wine in the flask appeared a vivid crimson against the glass, extraordinarily tempting.

Le Wuya had drunk quite a bit in his previous life and knew this wine was indeed good and doesn't get you drunk easily.

Originally he could drink a thousand cups without getting drunk, but now, being new here and not knowing Wen Ren Yue's limit, he needed to be cautious, so he only took a tiny sip.

He praised, "Great wine."

Since he didn't bring up business, Master Chen didn't either, just poured him another cup.

After a few rounds of drinks, Master Chen finally broached the subject: "When you first arrived in this county, Your Honor, I unfortunately caught a cold and was stuck in bed. Since then, I've been plagued by minor ailments. As an old and sickly man, it was truly inconvenient to meet with you. I hope you'll understand."

That was pure lip service.

In truth, when Wen Ren Yue first came to Nanting County, Master Chen had indeed intended to invite the magistrate and get on his good side.

However, this magistrate was too young and incompetent; he was completely pushed aside as soon as he arrived, with all local affairs decided by Deputy Magistrate Sun.

Since he had chosen Deputy Magistrate Sun's side, he had to stick with it to the end for the sake of stability.

Le Wuya smiled: "Easily said. Master Chen, don't blame yourself too much. When people age, ailments are unavoidable; health is the most important thing."

His intention in coming was to stall and spar with Master Chen.

He had a whole bag of official pleasantries in his mind.

Moreover, he had sensed something off outside the inn just now; logically, he ought to restrain himself and first feel out the other side's real hand.

However, as soon as the pleasantries left his mouth, he sensed something was wrong.

...His words were a bit slurred.

A scorching heat rushed straight to Le Wuya's cheeks, making him dizzy, his vision blurring in waves.

Le Wuya: "..." What's happening?

Since he had an excellent tolerance for alcohol, he had never experienced this. After a moment's thought, he realized that Master Chen couldn't be foolish enough to host a meal in his own name and then poison the food and drink.

...He was probably drunk.

The original Wen Ren Yue not only couldn't drink; his limit was rock bottom.

Fortunately, he had drunk little.

Unaware of his condition, Master Chen laid on the flattery thick: "Thank you for your consideration, Your Honor. I run some insignificant businesses here and earn a little money, all thanks to your patronage. Your Honor comes from a merchant family, yet you received imperial favor and possess great talent, enabling you to attain this seventh-rank post. I originally aspired to be an official but truly lacked the capability, so now I am a merchant. As the saying goes, 'The tables have turned,' and it is indeed true. I believe you must understand all the hardships and difficulties of doing business..."

Master Chen's speech was beautifully delivered. During a pause, he smoothly gestured toward the curtain, and a servant quickly approached, carrying a wooden tray covered with red cloth—a perfect move.

The red cloth was removed, revealing a blinding display of gold.

Le Wuya narrowed his eyes and counted.

A full twenty taels of gold.

"Master sure is generous," Le Wuya praised sincerely. "A First-Rank Official at court receives ninety-two shi of rice per month; converted, a quarter's pay comes to about that much. Master Chen's business is truly thriving and prosperous."

Master Chen sighed softly, a well-timed look of worry appearing on his sallow, elongated face: "Business thrives, but at a cost. It drains one's energy, requires endless favors to others, and of course, relies on your protection."

He pointed at the gold-filled tray and said with emotion: "You are a clean-handed official, and I don't mean to tarnish your name. This gold is just left with you for now. To take my business to the next level, I must grease palms at every level. You would be using my money to handle my affairs—really puts you out."

Le Wuya smirked.

The feeling of being slightly tipsy was truly unfamiliar.

Unaccustomed, he rested his head on his hand and stared right at Master Chen.

Master Chen thought he'd said it well but did not receive the expected response.

He slightly looked away from Le Wuya, feeling quite uncomfortable.

Master Chen had dealt with many people of high rank and power, but this Wen Ren Yue was unlike anyone he had ever met.

...If he had to put it in words, there was a certain uncanny vibe about him.

"It's nice to have money," Le Wuya said lazily, after a long silence. "But Master, you know how to spend money, yet you're not very skilled at giving gifts."

Le Wuya's tone drew out lazily, with a hint of playful whining.

In the next room, the Seventh Prince, who was listening in, suddenly froze with his cup in hand.

This tone was very familiar to him, as if he had heard it somewhere before...

The Sixth Prince, however, remained calm, sipping silently without a word.

Master Chen's heart lurched; he understood this was not a good thing to hear.

He forced a smile: "...I am dense and clumsy; I hope Your Honor can enlighten me."

Since he wished for enlightenment, Le Wuya did not hold back.

"There are three taboos in giving gifts. First, don't be a climber. When you don't put in effort in ordinary times, you only frantically scheme when you need someone's help."

As soon as these words were spoken, Master Chen's face suddenly darkened.

"Second, don't be direct. You didn't first build a relationship with my close associates, but came straight to me with money—truly lacking in etiquette."

"Third, don't make guesses. You haven't even thoroughly learned my preferences before thinking of gifting gold and silver. What if I don't care for such mundane treasures and prefer something else? Then your gift would have been given in vain."

"These taboos of gift-giving, it's not that you're unaware of them. You simply thought that I, as a lowly seventh-rank county magistrate, wasn't worth your extra effort. With matters pressing and no time to prepare, you hurriedly brought gold to curry favor..."

Le Wuya steadied himself against the table as he stood, swaying slightly.

"But I, sir, am magnanimous and won't hold this against you."

The more Le Wuya spoke, the drunker he became, even slipping into the arrogant manner he had once shown toward subordinates in his past life.

Master Chen, after all, was a scholar, most skilled at wrapping his true intentions in flowery rhetoric. Yet Le Wuya, without hesitation, stripped away the carefully crafted veneer, leaving him red-faced and stammering: "You... you sir..."

"What Master Chen is really saying is that you can't bear to part with the coal mine. The coal mine produces coal, and coal is traded for gold..."

Le Wuya picked up a gold ingot casually, toyed with it in his palm, and muttered to himself: "Gold is indeed a fine thing—who could dislike it? But tell me, sir, would such a fine thing be able to speak?"

He released his grip, letting the ingot fall back into the tray: "...Would it be able to say to me, 'Magistrate, this humble one has been wronged'?"

That was the last line shouted with blood and tears by Ming Xiangzhao before his soul dissipated.

This was tantamount to pointing directly at Master Chen's face and cursing him.

Master Chen, never having been steeped in officialdom or subjected to such public humiliation, barely suppressed his shock and embarrassment and said to his attendant: "Help the magistrate—he's had too much to drink."

"Yes, I'm drunk. The wine is excellent, but I can't stomach it."

Raising his cup in a daze, Le Wuya examined it closely.

Pure white crystal, bright red wine—it looked like red plum blossoms against snow.

A surge of emotion roiled and clashed in his chest.

He raised his voice: "Please, Master, drink the blood of the people alone!"

With that, he flung the wine directly into Master Chen's face!

Silence fell in the adjacent private room.

Even the usually composed Sixth Prince showed surprise.

A seventh-rank magistrate refusing a bribe was nothing remarkable.

But that speech revealed a man with valor, integrity, and a sincere heart for the people.

The Sixth Prince turned to the Seventh Prince. "Zhi Shi, what were you thinking just now?"

"Nothing."

The Seventh Prince had already resumed his usual expression. He picked up a pastry and began eating it with deliberate slowness.

At first, there had been a certain resemblance.

But this talk of serving the country and the people—that was not something he would ever say.

...

Ignoring the attendant's shock and Master Chen's mortification, Le Wuya swept out the door. As soon as he stepped onto the street, a biting wind struck his face, sobering him a good six-tenths.

Le Wuya: "..." Wait, what had he just done?

He raised a hand to his forehead and rubbed it vigorously.

He had always prided himself on being clever and shrewd since childhood, yet just now he had been as foolish as a reckless roe deer crashing about.

He wondered if the feng shui here was bad for a wandering soul like him.

Had he been possessed?

Lost in such thoughts, he took a few steps forward, then suddenly felt something amiss and spun around.

That familiar sensation had returned.

Turning abruptly, he saw, silhouetted against a cluster of dark red lanterns, two tall figures—one seated, one standing—projected through the paper window of the private room on the second floor.

One figure rested a hand on the window frame, head slightly tilted, as if looking back at him.

Le Wuya's lips moved slightly.

Upstairs.

The Seventh Prince pressed his cup to his lips and teased: "Sixth Brother, is this county magistrate handsome?"

The Sixth Prince let go of the window frame. "I can't see him clearly."

"If you like him, you could always find a way to bring him back," the Seventh Prince jested. "It's also time to dissolve that ill-omened celestial sign regarding your marriage."

The Sixth Prince thought for a moment, then replied seriously: "I cannot. He is a good official; his reputation should not be tarnished by involving him in worldly disputes."

The Seventh Prince was taken aback, then laughed so hard he nearly doubled over. "What, Brother, I was only joking, and you were actually thinking about it?"

But the Sixth Prince turned to him solemnly. "Zhi Shi, all these years, the celestial sign has been unfair to you."

At this, the Seventh Prince's smile faded as he stared at him.

He loathed his concern but still wore an innocent expression. "Brother, what are you saying? We were born at the same hour on the same day, with the same Eight Characters and intertwined fates. If you cannot marry, then I happen to have no interest in it either."

Seeing that the Sixth Prince wanted to say more, the Seventh Prince leaned back and cut him off: "...Besides, what can be done about the celestial sign?"

Downstairs, Le Wuya's mind was still hazy. He gazed up at the silhouette behind the window until the hand on the frame withdrew, the shadows dispersed, and the figure vanished, then he looked away.

He turned his eyes and noticed some commotion on the street.

Many people gathered at scattered, uncollected stalls, whispering and glancing toward the south end of the long street.

Not far from him, someone was crouching in the shadows, hunched and moving furtively. When he looked up, his gaze met Le Wuya's probing eyes.

Le Wuya raised an eyebrow, pulled a small fan from his bosom, and pointed it at the man, gesturing for him to enter a nearby alley.

The man understood at once, turned left on the spot, and slipped into a side lane.

Le Wuya walked quickly toward him, fanning himself.

The harsh night wind struck his face, hastening the dissipation of his drunkenness.

He turned into the same alley as the man, ensured they were alone, and asked: "Why did you come out?"

It was the one-armed deserter.

He shed his daytime casual demeanor, taking on a soldier’s crisp efficiency: “Your Honor, the body you mentioned was delivered an hour ago; half an hour ago, the person you mentioned also arrived.”

Le Wuya arranged for Deputy Magistrate Sun to place Chang Xiaohu’s decomposed corpse in the ice room of the charity mortuary on the outskirts.

At the same time, he gave two beggars some silver, instructing them to feed the young beggar quickly, then sneak into the charity mortuary and hide alongside the corpse.

His orders were quite straightforward.

“Keep a sharp eye on the newest body brought in. If anyone enters and tries to do anything to that corpse, without any discussion, break his legs first.”

Le Wuya casually fanned himself: “Did you break his legs?”

“We did.” The one-armed beggar couldn’t help but grin sheepishly. “Just... we were a bit too rough and broke one extra leg.”

“Never mind. Did he say anything?”

“He claimed to be the county coroner, sent by your order to examine the body. Before he could finish, we knocked him out. I’m still quick on my feet, so my brother told me to sneak out and ask for your advice—what should we do?”

A sharp wailing drifted faintly from the far end of the street.

The murmuring outside the alley suddenly grew louder, with words like “Aunt Su” and “grave robbing” becoming audible.

Le Wuya asked back: “Why did you go to the ice room?”

The one-armed soldier froze, then quickly caught on and replied: “It was because we saw that young beggar badly injured. In a panic, we wanted to search the bodies in the mortuary for some valuables to earn money for medicine. We happened upon this man and accidentally hurt him in the scuffle... In any case, this has nothing to do with Your Honor!”

Le Wuya: “Wrong.”

The one-armed soldier jolted, mentally reviewed his own words, and found nothing wrong. He cautiously sought guidance: “Your Honor, what’s wrong?”

“‘Accidentally hurt him’ is a poor excuse.” Le Wuya said, “Think it through more carefully. Don’t be vague. Check each detail one by one. It would be best to go back to the charity mortuary and rehearse on the spot.”

The quick-witted soldier said: “Alright, Your Honor, I’ll think it over again—I’ll make sure the story is tight... What should my brother and I do next?”

“You panicked and hurt someone, and now you’re scared. Naturally, you should carry the injured man and turn yourselves in.”

“Then... what about you, Your Honor?”

Le Wuya closed his fan against his palm and smiled: “This magistrate, of course, is going to freshen up and hold court.”