Chapter 22: Flattering (1)

Chapter 22: Flattering (1)

Wenren Yue quickly realized and said apologetically, "I haven't had time to look at myself yet... Today I cleaned the house, bought groceries, and went to the academy to see if there was any work I could earn money from. I really—"

"Stop prattling." Le Wuya tugged at his sleeve. "Come inside and take a look."

They studied themselves in the mirror for a good while. Wenren Yue turned his head and said, "... My face really hasn't changed."

Le Wuya opened his mouth as if to speak, then gave up. "Alright, asking you is useless."

Thinking back on it now, the whole soul-swapping business was definitely strange.

For one thing, after lying in the muck for four years, he woke up full of life.

For another, when Wenren Yue's soul left his body, though he was frail, with Le Wuya's help, he managed to survive.

And third, where did Scholar Ming's soul go?

Going by the order of their little hot-potato game, when Scholar Ming kicked the bucket, his soul should have also left his body, staring back at them with wide eyes.

But Scholar Ming just disappeared into thin air, like a puff of wind—poof, he was gone.

Compared to them, Le Wuya's soul was indeed exceptionally strong.

Could that be why he could alter Wenren Yue's appearance?

As things stood, Little Phoenix clearly knew the most, otherwise he wouldn't be so obsessed with a small-time magistrate like Wenren Yue.

But judging by how crazy he was, if Le Wuya went to ask him directly, the guy would probably flip out even more.

Better to figure it out himself.

Le Wuya sized up the height difference between himself and Wenren Yue as he was now, only came up to his chin. He complained, "I wish I could grow a few more inches."

Wenren Yue gave a helpless smile.

This guy went from serious to childish in a heartbeat, leaving you at a total loss.

He reached out and fluffed up Le Wuya's hair. "See? You're taller now."

Le Wuya looked at him.

This man was pure and kind, knowing him as "Brother Gu," knowing he was capable.

But he didn't know he was Le Wuya.

If he ever found out, how would he see him?

Noticing Le Wuya staring at him so intently, Wenren Yue realized he had been a bit too forward. He tucked his hand behind his back, rubbing his fingers together nervously. "Brother Gu? What is it?"

Le Wuya thought, Just another letdown. What else could it be?

Instead of moping, he might as well smooth things out for him.

If they ever had a falling-out and Wenren Yue kicked him out, at least he'd have repaid this sheltering.

Today, after another "heart-to-heart" with Deputy Magistrate Sun, he finally got why Wenren Yue had been left cooling his heels in Nanting County.

"Guess what?"

Le Wuya shook off the gloom and put on a cheerful smile, carelessly tied his messy hair into a high ponytail. He said excitedly, "Your post here was originally meant to be a trade chip!"

It turned out that when the previous county magistrate of Nanting County was preparing to leave, Deputy Magistrate Sun had already set his sights on climbing up a step.

Nanting County was hardly a remote or difficult post. Sun Ru greased palms and ingratiated himself with Master Chen, eventually finding a path: exchanging positions with another magistrate.

A magistrate surnamed Han had toiled for ten years in a very remote and impoverished county but happened to handle a brilliant assignment, which allowed him to build a good connection. He could be transferred to another place on equal terms, with a bright future ahead.

The Ministry of Personnel connected the two, and they quickly reached an agreement.

This Magistrate Han would come to Nanting County, and Deputy Magistrate Sun would be promoted and go to that impoverished county as its magistrate. After slaving away for a few years, the now-successful Magistrate Han would help him find a better place.

Everything was settled, but before the appointment order could be issued, fate smiled on Magistrate Han: the magistrate of a neighboring wealthy county died of acute appendicitis while in office, opening up a spot.

With a better option available, Magistrate Han scrambled to pull strings and transferred there in a flash.

That put Deputy Magistrate Sun in a really awkward position.

He could still go to that impoverished county, but the original agreement was a mutual benefit between Sun and Han.

Magistrate Han left happily, stranding Deputy Magistrate Sun, who had lost all his bargaining power.

With no one to trade with, if Sun went to that backwater, he'd be stuck in a bog—who'd pull him out?

And Master Chen, not being in officialdom, could only help so much.

Deputy Magistrate Sun had no choice but to give up.

Better to stay in Nanting County, where he had deep roots, and rule like a local despot, than suffer in some remote mountain village where he knew no one.

But this left the Ministry of Personnel with a problem.

Even though Sun Ru hadn't moved, everyone knew he was fit to be tied over the wasted effort.

The Ministry didn't care about a county vice magistrate's temper, but Sun had been entrenched in Nanting for so long that sending any new county magistrate there had become a thankless, nasty job.

Most of the candidates waiting for assignments had connections. Even a few from humble backgrounds had spent years preparing for the exams, and many of their former classmates were already officials.

After careful deliberation, the Ministry sent Wenren Yue—a young nobody—to Nanting County to be Deputy Magistrate Sun's whipping boy.

...

Upon learning the real reason for his half-year's misfortune, Wenren Yue said in surprise, "Is the Ministry of Personnel really this corrupt?"

Le Wuya was surprised. "... I thought you'd vent about Deputy Magistrate Sun first."

Wenren Yue frowned slightly. "It wasn't him who issued the order."

Le Wuya narrowed his eyes, seeing through his thoughts. "Bureaucratic corruption has been around forever. You can't fix it overnight, nor understand it just by burying your head in books. You need to see more and know more. Only then can you have the power to clean it up. Don't obsess over big schemes. Start small."

Wenren Yue nodded submissively. "Yes, Shou Yue takes your advice to heart."

Le Wuya paused for a moment before remembering that Scholar Ming's courtesy name was Shou Yue.

He laughed. "You're adapting pretty well."

Wenren Yue scratched his cheek awkwardly. "Speaking of which, I do have a concern... I know my temperament isn't great—I'm not as straightforward as Scholar Ming. I'm afraid I won't be able to pull off playing him."

Le Wuya didn't mind at all, and with one sentence he put his mind at ease: "Don't worry, just be yourself. If after going through all this trouble your temperament remained exactly the same, that would be downright strange."

Wen Ren Yue accepted the instruction gladly once again.

Le Wuya felt quite at ease, as if he had returned to his previous life teaching Xiaoliu.

No matter what he taught, the child listened—what a relief to have such a good kid.

"By the way, you just said you wanted to find work?" Le Wuya patted his shoulder. "If you have time, come and help me sort out my scrolls. Take whatever money your family needs from my private funds. But one thing—only from your own private savings, Wen Ren Yue. I won't give you a single coin from the yamen's coffers; I'm keeping them for other uses."

Wen Ren Yue agreed with a smile.

After seeing off the late-night visitor, Le Wuya sat down at his desk.

He first opened the gold-flecked letter.

Zhi Jie's handwriting was as graceful and neat as ever.

Whenever a prince came of age, he would establish his own household and get married.

He just wondered which lady he had married.

Zhi Jie was gentle and considerate to the smallest detail. Whoever married him would be truly fortunate.

Lost in thought, he then opened Xiang Zhi Shi's directive.

Unexpectedly, a gold-flecked letter drifted to the floor, and on it was also his address in the capital.

Le Wuya picked up the second gold-flecked letter, and thought with partiality: Xiao Zhi Shi is narrow-minded and mean-spirited; any girl who marries him would be utterly unlucky.

Unless she could be his partner in crime, how could they live in harmony?

Le Wuya placed the two gold-flecked letters side by side and fell into deep thought.

Since the death of Crown Prince Xiang Zhi Ming, the position of the Eastern Palace had been vacant for a long time.

Second Prince Xiang Zhi Zheng loved hunting and detested writing. When young, he often sneaked into their classes. He was quite unconvinced by Le Wuya's archery skills, and after competing with him over a dozen rounds, he finally conceded defeat.

From then on, whenever there was a hunt, he would drag Le Wuya along, only stopping reluctantly when Le Wuya's health deteriorated.

After the crown prince's death, he was the eldest, but unfortunately he had wasted many years and had no talent for studies at all, so he could only sigh in despair over the throne.

The third prince died young. The fourth prince, Xiang Zhi Fei, was healthy but soft-natured, fond of poetry and painting, and loved landscapes; he was not much favored by the emperor.

When Le Wuya died, the fifth prince, Xiang Zhi Yun, had already been sent out on assignments and seemed to have the demeanor of a ruler.

Xiao Liu and Xiao Qi, that is, Zhi Jie and Zhi Shi, were both born after the emperor ascended the throne.

He wondered how the fifth prince was doing now...

At this thought, Le Wuya suddenly burst out laughing.

What did it have to do with him?

Now he was far away from the capital, a lowly county magistrate. No one could order him around anymore!

He happily flopped onto the bed, rolled around, and then called out, "Bring water, I want a bath!"

After a thorough soak, all of Le Wuya's fatigue was washed away.

Finally, he lay down in bed and slept soundly.

The next morning, someone came riding posthaste to summon him, saying that the Prefect wanted to see him for a meeting.

Le Wuya packed his gear, took no attendants, and chose a gentle, short, plump little yellow horse, jogging along leisurely towards the prefectural office.

In his past life, Le Wuya loved tall horses. When he first came into Wen Ren Yue's body, he had already had his fill; now he just wanted comfort.

He had intended to take a detour to check on the miners, but unexpectedly spotted Wen Ren Yue near the City God Temple where the miners were lodged.

He had set up a small stall: one stool, one table, and a rolled-up blue old quilt cover on which were written two large characters: "Write Letters."

In case people couldn't read, he had also drawn an envelope beside it.

As Le Wuya passed by, a lean, swarthy miner was asking about the price at the stall.

Le Wuya wandered over to him: "What are you up to?"

Wen Ren Yue, seeing him from afar, stood up and bowed with clasped hands: "Your Honor, writing letters."

Le Wuya looked at him with hands behind his back: I told you to come work at the yamen yesterday, didn't I?

Wen Ren Yue replied gently: "Your Honor told me to observe the people's livelihood and not just do paperwork. So I thought I'd find a trade to practice. Luckily, thanks to Your Honor's kindness, part of the Chen family's seized wealth was distributed to the miners yesterday. The miners are deeply homesick, so I thought I'd write some letters home for them, earn a little pocket money, and get to know the people's conditions—killing three birds with one stone."

As expected of someone from a merchant family, he was good at finding business opportunities.

Le Wuya patted his shoulder in encouragement, chatted a bit with the grateful miner, then mounted his horse and headed to the meeting.

Yizhou had twenty-three counties under its jurisdiction, and according to custom, there was a monthly meeting.

Whenever there was a major event in a county, the Prefect would also summon the county magistrate separately for instructions.

This time, the Southern Pavilion rebellion case coincided with the monthly meeting, and all twenty-three magistrates would gather together.

Southern Pavilion was originally a small county, and Wen Ren Yue had shallow seniority and was the youngest; in previous meetings, he always sat at the lowest seat.

But this time, his seat had been moved to the front.

Le Wuya, neither timid nor evasive, sat down in his seat without hesitation.

People arrived one after another.

By the end of the day, all magistrates had heard about how Le Wuya tried the night case.

Those with sharper sources also knew that some important figure seemed to have visited Southern Pavilion.

They swept away their previous disregard for the young man and came forward to greet him courteously and politely.

Le Wuya had a good memory. Before leaving, he had memorized the names of all twenty-three current magistrates based on the Prefect's past circular directives, and since he had arrived earliest, he had noted the seating order while chatting with the tea attendant.

So when each person greeted him, he could accurately call them by name.

Moreover, he was skilled at saying the right thing to the right person, and in just a moment of meeting someone, he could gauge their temperament and speak and act in the way they would like best.

Such skills of reading people and conversing came as naturally to Le Wuya as breathing.

Talking with him was like a spring breeze or fine wine.

Everyone who spoke with him looked at him with new eyes, and even doubted their own judgment—how had they never noticed this young magistrate before?

A man who can hide his shortcomings yet possesses great talent; though his birth is indeed humble, a pearl covered in dust, a fine jade with a slight flaw never loses its true luster.

Didn't this rebellion case make him shine brilliantly?

Le Wuya, busy with socializing, caught a glimpse of a lean, tall old county magistrate out of the corner of his eye.

He was about fifty years old, with a long, narrow face and sharp, piercing brows and eyes that, even at rest, gave him an inherently angry look.

Le Wuya remembered his name: Qi Wuhu, courtesy name Ying Chen, the magistrate of Jinyuan County.

He alone neither greeted nor exchanged pleasantries with Le Wuya, sitting by himself, silently fuming with rage.

As everyone gradually gathered, Prefect Lyu made a late, leisurely entrance from the back hall.

Prefect Lyu's full name was Lyu Deyao, and his appearance was rather effeminate.

But this was not a compliment on his handsomeness.

Especially after he gained weight in middle age, his face became slightly round, his eyes weary, and he looked like a nun dressed in men's clothing.

Perhaps his appearance was a reflection of his character, and it also affected his speech rhythm—his drawl was long, and his tone sounded like a sheep's bleating.

He lazily rambled on with a bunch of irrelevant chattering, saying how busy things had been lately, how hard everyone worked, how the prefecture understood their struggles, but that the prefecture had its own hardships too.

Prefect Lyu, his mouth dry from speaking, picked up his teacup and took a sip.

Le Wuya, sitting closest to him, twitched his nose and identified the scent of Maojian tea.

Maojian tea varies in grade and price.

Based on Le Wuya's precious experience of dining and entertainment in the capital in his previous life, the tea in Prefect Lyu's cup was of a quite superior grade, only one level below tribute tea.

Le Wuya took a sip of his own tea, set down the cup without a change in expression, and pressed his lips together to remove the tea leaves clinging to his lips.

A local nameless tea, probably some old stale stock from some tea shop, was as broken as tea leaves swept from the bottom of a jar.

After leisurely finishing his nonsense, Prefect Lyu finally turned to Le Wuya and praised in his sheep-like bleating voice: "Well done, Ming Ke!"

Just as the topic was about to shift to him, Le Wuya straightened his back, ready to respond, when he suddenly heard a sharp, impatient shout: "Prefect Lyu!"

He turned his head and saw Qi Wuhu, his old brows shooting up in anger, shouting: "Can you please resolve the plight of Jinyuan's people first before talking about these matters?"