Chapter 20: Reunion (4)

Chapter 20: Reunion (4)

While Deputy Magistrate Sun was frantically ordering people to splash clean water on the ground, Le Wuya sat in the inner hall, enthusiastically introducing Master Chen to the Imperial Commissioner: "Your Excellency the Imperial Commissioner, General Pei, this is the esteemed local figure Chen Yuanwei. The Xiaofu Coal Mine is the business he founded on his own."

The Seventh Prince took a sip of tea and glanced at him: *Planning to use our influence again?*

Because Le Wuya's demeanor so closely resembled that person's, every move he made seemed to the Seventh Prince to be calculated.

Coincidentally, Le Wuya was indeed thinking that.

With a face of righteous innocence, he answered with a smile: *Of course. Why not use what's available?*

The Sixth Prince, Xiang Zhijie, caught on quickly: "Ah, the Xiaofu Coal Mine."

Chen Yuanwei felt as if a red-hot poker had been jammed up his backside. He dared only to hunch over and perch on the very edge of his chair, answering hastily: "Yes, Your Excellency. That's right."

Xiang Zhijie: "I heard that every winter, you distribute some coal to the poor?"

Perhaps it was because the charcoal fire in the room was burning too hot, but in just two brief exchanges, a thin layer of sweat had already appeared on Master Chen's face: "Yes, yes. I'm ashamed."

Le Wuya watched Xiang Zhijie's lips move intently, feeling quite gratified.

*Xiaoliu's speech is much smoother than before.*

When he first met Xiang Zhijie, the prince was being punished for not reciting his lessons well enough.

Of course, the prince himself wouldn’t be beaten; it was his unfortunate attendant who took ten strikes to the palm. The attendant dared not complain, standing aside with red, swollen hands.

Once the tutor had left, Xiang Zhijie took out a box of medicinal ointment and shoved it into the attendant's hand.

The attendant seemed used to it, taking the ointment and leaving the room to apply it, so the scent wouldn't bother the prince.

The plain and pure-looking little dumpling tilted his head slightly and spotted Le Wuya outside the window.

Knowing that spying was a crime, Le Wuya immediately knelt down.

The prince picked up a hand warmer and walked out: "You... are who?"

He purposely spoke in two-word chunks to avoid stuttering too obviously.

Le Wuya: "To answer Your Highness, I am Le Wuya, third son of General Zhaoyi, recently returned from the frontier. Today, the Eastern Palace summoned me to the palace to test my riding and archery skills, but this morning the Crown Prince was unwell. After the test, I was fortunate enough to come in first. An attendant led me here and told me to wait. It was just my own nosiness that made me take a few extra steps; I did not deliberately pry."

He said it all in one breath, so that Xiang Zhijie wouldn't have to ask more.

"Big brother... the Crown Prince did mention you."

Xiang Zhijie said no more, simply handing him the hand warmer: "Your wounds just healed. Use this warmer for now; return it later."

Le Wuya was only nineteen, and though he had just suffered a severe injury, he still had that young, carefree spirit. He tilted his head, looked at this child fair as jade for a moment, didn't refuse, and took the hand warmer, tucking it into his own bosom.

*He had suffered enough already; no need to make himself suffer more.*

Having given the hand warmer, Xiang Zhijie turned back to the study.

Because the child said so little, it took Le Wuya a moment to realize that he knew Le Wuya would have to kneel to reply, so he simply left to spare him the trouble.

Le Wuya rubbed his head, feeling like he'd been looked after by a kid.

Out of curiosity, Le Wuya willfully kept spying on him, knowing it was wrong.

As he watched, he discovered something new.

Xiang Zhijie had already put away the book the tutor had been quizzing him on and picked up a thinner, different book.

The book was the *Gan Shi Xing Jing*, a book on astrology.

Le Wuya had been listening and knew that Xiang Zhijie hadn't failed because he didn't know the material, but because his stutter made it sound like he hadn't studied it well or didn't know it.

It seemed the books the tutor had assigned were already deeply familiar to him.

This only confirmed Le Wuya's guess.

He called softly, "Your Highness, Sixth Prince?"

Xiang Zhijie looked up: "Mm?"

Le Wuya: "Thank you for the hand warmer. I am much warmer now. I take the liberty of teaching you a few tricks; maybe with a bit of luck, they'll cure your problem."

Confronted with such cheek, Xiang Zhijie nodded with extraordinary maturity, but didn't seem bothered.

Le Wuya knew that for this stuttering condition, he must have called in imperial doctors and tried countless medicines, yet still showed no sign of improvement.

But that didn't stop him from offering his two cents.

"First, go to bed early, get up early, and work out regularly."

"Second, practice singing and talk to yourself when alone. Both will benefit your recovery."

"Third..." Le Wuya grinned, playing with the tassels on the hand warmer, "If you stop making yourself stutter on purpose, it'll get better."

Xiang Zhijie's eyes sharpened, and he looked directly at Le Wuya.

Seeing his expression, Le Wuya knew he had guessed correctly and immediately admitted his fault: "I overstepped, Your Highness."

When he had served on the frontier, the army was a mixed bag, and he had encountered a few genuine stutterers. Their articulation and vowel sounds were off. One of them sounded relatively normal, but that was only after years of deliberate practice.

For such a quiet little prince to have nearly perfect pronunciation—that itself was suspicious.

Xiang Zhijie rose, grabbed Le Wuya's sleeve, and pulled him into the study.

This was the first time Le Wuya saw a hint of childlike nervousness on the face of this usually steady little dumpling: "Do not..."

Le Wuya once again brazenly interrupted the prince: "Yes. Your servant won't tell."

Xiang Zhijie let out a small sigh of relief. Just as he was about to say something else, he heard sounds from outside and fell silent, releasing his grip on Le Wuya's sleeve.

The attendant who had led Le Wuya there had just gone to fetch the Seventh Prince. After the tutor had finished examining the Seventh Prince on his poetry, they all came together.

The attendant bent over and said softly, "Your Highnesses, the Sixth and Seventh Princes, His Majesty has decreed by word of mouth that the one who wins first place in today's riding and archery test shall be the riding and archery instructor to the two princes. Lord Le Wuya shot down the red tassel and took first place. Henceforth, when the two princes meet Lord Le Wuya, they shall address him as 'Master.'"

Le Wuya blurted out thoughtlessly: "Eunuch Hu speaks interestingly. It sounds rather like the celebratory arrow that shoots the bride's sedan chair at a wedding..."

Eunuch Hu was from the Eastern Palace. Master and servant were alike in temperament—both were solemn, elegant, and deadly dull.

He ignored Le Wuya's nonsense and said directly, "Lord Le, give thanks for the imperial favor."

Seventh Prince said with a smile, "Master Le!"

Sixth Prince: "Master Le, hello."

Having just had his secret exposed, the Sixth Prince was clearly a bit embarrassed. The stress fell on "hello," making it sound like he was complimenting him.

...

Le Wuya had always been thick-skinned and particularly good at taking credit. Hearing the Sixth Prince now able to speak normally, he naturally attributed the achievement to himself, a hint of pride showing on his face.

Sixth Prince: "Xiaofu Coal Mine has long been known for its good deeds. Surely Master Chen has not forgotten the teachings of the sages, knowing that when one is successful, one should help others achieve success as well."

At these words, Master Chen began to sweat even more profusely.

There was clearly a trap in these words.

But the Imperial Commissioner had openly invoked "the teachings of the sages," and as a mere provincial graduate, he had no room to argue.

He could only stammer his assent.

Le Wuya was even more amused.

"Oh, not only can he speak well, he's also learned to be mischievous!"

While he was delightedly listening to the first Imperial Commissioner speak, he didn't notice the slight downturn of the first Imperial Commissioner's lips in frustration.

...He had stuttered again.

Xiang Zhijie steadied himself and added the next sentence: "If Master Chen enjoys the good reputation of Xiaofu Coal Mine, then what about the evils committed by Xiaofu Coal Mine?"

Master Chen had been hoping that the Imperial Commissioner, newly arrived, might not yet understand the situation. Who would have thought he'd bring up those four words, "Chen the Good"?

Master Chen's knees went weak, and he slid off his chair to kneel, kowtowing painfully: "Imperial Commissioner, please hear me out. I, a commoner, have failed to manage my household properly and have been lax in discipline. Usually, I only indulge in poetry and self-cultivation, leading to such disgraceful matters at the mine without my knowledge..."

Master Chen didn't know if this explanation would suffice.

Xiaofu Coal Mine was too important to him. Those in charge were either relatives or his most trusted servants. Even if he wanted to wash his hands of it, it would be extremely difficult.

Master Chen belatedly regretted his lack of foresight. He should have immediately cut ties with his ill-gotten wealth, packed up, and fled the city overnight to save his own life.

He hadn't been able to cut losses quickly, and now he was the fish on the chopping block. How could he not regret it?

Seventh Prince took over: "Hey, Sixth Brother, you can't say that. Master Chen may have a thousand faults, but at least he did one thing right."

Master Chen held his breath, a faint glimmer of hope rising in his heart.

Seventh Prince, still with the same sweet, cheerful tone he had as a child, said: "He's been diligent in his exercise. If he's lucky enough to be sentenced to exile, he won't die from weakness on the road."

The two brothers played off each other, each word like a thunderbolt for Master Chen.

Just as his heart was being boiled in oil, a soldier requested an audience.

He strode in with a firm step and announced loudly: "Your subordinate greets the two Imperial Commissioners. Reporting to General Pei, several fleeing slaves were caught south of the city. After investigation, they all belong to Chen Yuanwei's household. The leader is the steward, claiming the family is suffering from a sudden illness and must rush back to their hometown. But they have no family letters as proof, and they are carrying a large amount of gold and silver valuables, which is highly suspicious. I have detained them, awaiting the Imperial Commissioners' and the Magistrate of Nanting's verdict."

Pei Mingqi gave a nonchalant "mm" and looked at Le Wuya.

This was the first time since entering that he openly looked at Le Wuya.

...Not counting the dozen or so stolen glances.

Deputy Magistrate Sun, standing to the side, took in the scene. There was nothing he didn't understand now.

He only regretted his blindness over the past half-year. He might as well have used his eyes for blowing his nose.

"Oh my," Le Wuya said generously. "Thank you, General Pei. I was remiss in my consideration."

Seventh Prince took over: "The Magistrate is too modest. Last night, although you didn't impose a curfew, you secretly ordered the city gates to be locked an hour early. If we two weren't here, you would have made arrests last night, wouldn't you?"

"Your subordinate could only help himself, but with the Imperial Commissioner's assistance, it feels like divine aid."

After buttering them up, Le Wuya turned to Pei Mingqi: "Besides, who doesn't know General Pei's reputation for defense?"

...Defense...

A familiar voice from the past teased in his ear: "You defend, I attack. I take the outside, you take the inside. A perfect match, a natural pair."

Pei Mingqi met Le Wuya's gaze, stared for a long moment, then looked away and said, "I have one more question."

Sixth Prince: "General Pei, please speak."

Pei Mingqi: "The Jing tribe is rich in copper and iron. To smelt them, coal is indispensable."

This one sentence was clean and direct, striking right at the heart of the matter.

Master Chen's face turned deathly pale.

He hastily kowtowed, unable to control his force, banging his head on the ground until it bled, ignoring the pain: "I swear on my life and property, this never happened, it never happened! How would I dare collude with foreign tribes and commit treason!"

Sixth Prince said slowly: "But just now, Master Chen said you knew very little about the mine's affairs. How can you be so sure now?"

Le Wuya hid a smile behind his fan.

Seventh Prince keenly noticed: "Magistrate Wenren, why are you smiling?"

"Forgive my impertinence," Le Wuya said, leaning slightly forward and speaking in a tone of reminder. "Master Chen, your life and property have already been used to falsely accuse Scholar Ming of rebellion. Maybe you should find another guarantee?"

Sixth Prince couldn't help but laugh softly, imitating his manner.

"Innocent or not, it'll be clear after an investigation," Seventh Prince said in a very light tone, consulting Sixth Prince: "Shall we confiscate his property?"

Sixth Prince: "Confiscate it."

In just a few words, Master Chen's status as a provincial graduate was completely stripped away.

At Deputy Magistrate Sun's signal, several bailiffs immediately acted and dragged him out.

As the fully silk-robed Master Chen was stiffly pulled out of the government office, he happened to come across a group of bailiffs leading a batch of newly verified sold miners past the entrance.

Following the magistrate's instructions, they were to be settled first, fed well for a few days, allowed to recover from illnesses, and then arranged to return home in groups.

In the depth of winter, wearing tattered padded jackets with exposed cotton, they looked toward their temporary lodging with hope.

Seeing Master Chen being dragged out of the office, they craned their necks to see which noble had fallen from grace.

It was only days later, hearing from later arrivals, that they learned the entire Chen household had been thrown into prison.

When they connected Master Chen to Xiaofu Coal Mine, they were filled with regret and anger, slapping their thighs and bitterly wishing they had rushed up then to give that great villain Chen a beating and vent their anger.

The person delivering their meals was a young man with a bandage on his forehead, looking earnest and lively, dressed cleanly. Listening to the miners' angry words, his heart felt quite pleased.

His name is Hua Rong. He was the little beggar who was mocked by the servants of the Chen Mansion and nearly lost his life.

The Hu brothers were right; this young lad was strong and vigorous, and a bowl of rice porridge was enough to save him.

Le Wuya was quite pleased to see him recover. After inquiring about his name and background and learning that he came from a respectable family, he casually assigned him the task of delivering meals and running errands, letting him do that for now to earn his keep.

Little Huarong smiled and asked everyone, "Would anyone like another bowl of rice?"

Everyone chorused in response, "Yes!"

...

But that's a story for another time.

After seeing off Master Chen, the two Imperial Commissioners indeed quizzed him on the county's population, farmland, and tax matters.

Le Wuya already had an exceptional memory, and with Wenren Yue's help in anticipating questions the night before, he answered fluently without a hitch.

Once the official business was concluded, they carefully reviewed the case files related to Ming Xiangzhao, and then they were ready to depart.

Carrying the emperor's orders, they couldn't stay too long in Nanting.

The Seventh Prince, seeming bored and restless, excused himself to change clothes and stepped outside.

"As for the remaining matters, General Pei will handle the rest with you," the Sixth Prince said solemnly. "Afterward, send a letter to inform me so that I may report to His Majesty."

Le Wuya: "...Don't we need to go through the prefecture and submit a memorial?"

The Sixth Prince directly pulled a piece of gold-flecked paper from his sleeve. "This is the address of my mansion."

Le Wuya had a vague sense of unease, but with the note right in front of him, he couldn't refuse. "Very well, I will follow the Imperial Commissioner's instructions."

After the Seventh Prince returned, the two were about to leave the county.

According to etiquette, Le Wuya should have personally escorted the commissioners to their lodging before departing, but the Sixth Prince said, "The roads are icy and slippery, and Magistrate Wenren has important matters to attend to. Let's dispense with this formality."

The Imperial Commissioner, acting on behalf of the king’s decree, spoke words that carried the weight of law.

Le Wuya was excused from this duty and only saw them off to the gate of the county office.

Just before boarding the carriage, the Seventh Prince turned around and placed something in Le Wuya's hand.

Le Wuya: "Imperial Commissioner, this is..."

"An imperial commissioner's writ, allowing you to act at your discretion." The Seventh Prince's face bore a sweet dimple. "Without this, if you want to investigate thoroughly, there will always be constraints, won't there?"

Le Wuya stared intently at the dimple on his cheek.

Back then, when he learned he was to become the riding and archery tutor for the Sixth and Seventh Princes, the one he first met was actually the Seventh Prince, not the Sixth.

When Court Attendant Hu led him into the Deyue Pavilion where the princes studied, he happened to run into the Seventh Prince in the corridor.

He bowed respectfully: "Your subject Le Wuya greets the Seventh Prince."

The Seventh Prince was decked out in finery, smiling before speaking: "How did you know I was the Seventh Prince?"

Le Wuya lightly pointed to his own cheek: "To answer the Seventh Prince, someone told me that the one who's cheerful, talkative, and has dimples on his cheeks is the Seventh Prince."

He deliberately put on a serious face: "What if I don't smile? Can you recognize me then?"

At that time, Le Wuya's state of mind was quite bleak, which manifested as utter fearlessness of death.

He replied: "Your Highness, every person in this world is unique; there's no need to force distinctions. For example, if you don't feel like smiling, you don't have to. Even if you don't smile, I can still recognize you."

At that time, the Seventh Prince stared at him for a long while before breaking into a brilliant smile: "You said it yourself. I'll remember that."

The Seventh Prince was neither foolish nor stupid; he had long seen whom this unruly little magistrate resembled.

But Le Wuya is Le Wuya, unique in the world.

He most detested seeing the shadow of another person in someone; that was merely self-deception and self-gratification.

A mere county magistrate who only slightly resembled him—what was there to compare?

This man had a bright future ahead. By leaving a writ with him, he was leaving a path. In the future, if he wanted to rise quickly through the ranks, he would remember the benefit of this writ and come to seek him out.

Watching the commissioners' carriage recede into the distance, Le Wuya quietly asked Deputy Magistrate Sun, "Deputy Magistrate, have the sugar cakes I brought been given out to everyone?"

Deputy Magistrate Sun: "Those were yours. I saved them for you."

Le Wuya glared at him. "Even if I were a pig, I couldn't finish all that. Distribute them, distribute them. Consider it as General Pei's treat for breakfast."

Le Wuya turned around and found Pei Mingqi standing right behind him, staring directly at him.

Le Wuya forced a smile: "Aren't you leaving?"

Pei Mingqi said bluntly: "I have something to talk to you about."

Pei Mingqi whisked Le Wuya away like a gust of wind, leaving Deputy Magistrate Sun alone, utterly shocked and speechless:

"Shouldn't such things be done in private?"