Chapter 55: Wandering Beggars (III)

Chapter 55: Wandering Beggars (III)

In the evening, Le Wuya, with the information he had on hand, casually threw on a set of casual clothes and went out for a stroll alone.

The clothes that Wen Ren had originally made for him no longer fit his frame, and the ones Xiao Qi had sewn for him were the most suitable.

As a result, every set of "casual clothes" he owned exuded an air of unmistakable luxury.

Dressed in this resplendent finery, Le Wuya found a quiet, out-of-the-way stall and ordered a bowl of the cheapest noodles with minced meat.

He had been busy all day and had little appetite; the noodles were terribly made, but the stall's homemade chili sauce was delicious.

Le Wuya, with his silver tongue, urged the stall owner to stop selling noodles and focus on making and selling chili sauce instead.

He was so persuasive that the stall owner was becoming tempted when a tall figure approached, stopped at a distance, and greeted warmly, "Is that Master Wenren?"

Le Wuya turned to look. As if he had anticipated this person's arrival, he shrugged without surprise.

As soon as the stall owner saw the newcomer's face, he lowered his head and busied himself wiping the bowls, not daring to look again.

Le Wuya took note of this scene and sighed. "Oh, quite the airs."

"Don't make fun of me," the man said. He was dressed in patched clothes, but they were clean. "Why would the Master honor this lowly place with your presence today?"

Le Wuya replied, "Nanting is mine. I don't see which plot of land is noble and which is lowly."

The man laughed, his nose wrinkling slightly.

He was a large fellow, nearly eight feet tall, not so much handsome as somewhat comical, with a large, red, bulbous nose. He smiled before speaking, giving off a cheerful vibe.

Every trade has its leader, its boss.

With such a central figure, everyone could band together to survive.

Sheng Youde, the "Beggar Head," was the leader of the local beggars in Nanting County.

Le Wuya had made his acquaintance early on, after settling Scholar Ming's rebellion case and beginning his inspection of Nanting's conditions.

He had to explore both the overt and covert paths.

But back then, this man had been reluctant to deal with him, feigning ignorance and answering every question with a blank look, giving no straight answers—saying things like "a busy man like you" and "I'm just a beggar, how could I catch the Master's eye."

In short, Le Wuya had been thoroughly rebuffed.

Now, with a flood of outside beggars pouring into Nanting, the tables have turned. Sheng Youde was probably the first to feel the heat.

Le Wuya asked, "What do you want with me, Beggar Head?"

Sheng Youde chuckled. "Isn't it you who wanted to see me?"

Usually, when the Master went out, he was inseparable from Scholar Ming.

Today, right after issuing a new decree, he had come out alone and chosen this little-frequented stall, clearly leaving an opening for Sheng Youde to exploit.

But Le Wuya wasn't about to tolerate his habit of beating around the bush.

They needed to be clear about who needed whom.

He opened his fan. "Boss, check, please. Pack me a jar of chili oil. I'll pay extra."

Sheng Youde's heart tightened. "Master, please don't go."

He hadn't even started what he wanted to discuss, and Le Wuya was about to leave. If he left now, who knew when he'd have another chance to see him?

Sheng Youde had always kept his ears and eyes open. From about three or four days ago, he had sensed that the number of beggars in the city was off.

This sudden influx of wandering beggars into Nanting was mostly independent, with only a few showing signs of wanting to curry favor.

This was unusual, and there had to be a hidden hand behind it.

With so many new beggars not under his control suddenly appearing in the city, he naturally felt unsettled.

Before he could come up with a countermeasure, the Master had acted, making a move, determined to maintain Nanting's order and rein in all the beggars.

The citizens applauded the emergency decree.

But Sheng Youde was worried.

The authorities had always looked down on their kind—the dirty, the lowly—and turned a blind eye, as long as they didn't cause trouble.

If the government stepped in, using both soft and hard tactics, and found them jobs and livelihoods, then wouldn't his position as "Beggar Head" soon become hollow?

Moreover, the Master had just received imperial commendation and was busy with major welfare projects, such as road construction and farming. His prestige was at its zenith. And he had reacted swiftly—before the influx of wandering beggars could cause any trouble, he had recruited a group of beggars, spent the cost of a feast, and easily spread the news throughout the city that he was managing the beggars.

This move not only allayed the concerns of Nanting's citizens, but also ensured that if word got out, others would praise the Master's governance.

Sheng Youde anxiously ordered the local beggars not to go to the government office to register, but some couldn't resist and went to check it out. In the end, Clerk Duan's smooth talk fooled three local beggars into foolishly signing their names and leaving their fingerprints.

Sheng Youde wanted to keep Le Wuya a little longer to discuss this matter, but he didn't dare to order him around. So he pretended to be calm and gestured to the stall owner to hold off on collecting the payment.

The stall owner understood Sheng Youde's intent and felt caught in a dilemma.

He dared not offend the Master, nor could he afford to offend Sheng Youde, a local bigwig in rags. He looked at Le Wuya with a pleading expression.

A small-time street vendor like him had it tough; he couldn't afford to offend such a powerful beggar.

Le Wuya closed his fan with a snap, tapped it on the greasy table, and said to the stall owner, "What are you looking at me for? Scoop up more chili, wrap the jar up carefully, and don't let it leak on me."

The stall owner felt relieved.

He knew that the Master's words meant he was willing to stay a bit longer.

He immediately busied himself "working," deliberately dragging out the process of wrapping the jar, layer after layer, making sure it was "nice and tight."

Having reassured the stall owner, Le Wuya settled back into his seat. "As you know, a busy man's time is precious. Though I'm just a seventh-rank official, my time is valuable too."

Hearing the words "busy man," Sheng Youde found them familiar. After a moment's thought, he realized they were the very words he had used to brush Le Wuya off before.

His scalp prickled, but he pretended not to notice and tried to steer the conversation. "Master, Nanting's population has been growing lately."

"Isn't that a given?" Le Wuya gave him a sidelong glance, half glaring. "Under my governance, the realm is at peace and the population thrives. Is there a problem?"

Despite his underlying anxiety, Sheng Youde couldn't help but feel a hint of playfulness at Le Wuya's demeanor.

When the Master looked at someone, there was always a teasing glint in his eyes. He didn't seem like an official at all, more like a mischievous rabbit, wildly amusing.

He chuckled. "No problem, no problem. It's just about that matter you mentioned earlier—"

"What matter?" Le Wuya shook his head. "A busy man like me doesn't recall."

He shook his head and swayed, his posture overly dramatic.

Yet with such a handsome face and fine figure, even his showiness didn't rub people the wrong way.

Seeing that Le Wuya wasn’t taking his bait, Sheng Youde had to drop his silly ideas and speak more plainly: “Your Honor, as the saying goes, everyone has their own way of doing things. You are a noble person with a broad boulevard before you—why must you squeeze onto the same road as us? Beggars across the land come from all walks of life; they are truly hard to manage.”

“If they’re hard to manage, I’ll just pick the ones that are easy.”

Le Wuya fiddled with the edge of his fan: “I had the beggars sing throughout Nanting County for half a day today, Beggar Head. Surely you heard them? They spoke in plain language, not in flowery officialese. Unless one is deaf, they should know that once in Nanting, they have to listen to me as the county magistrate.”

Sheng Youde tested the waters with a joking tone: “Submit, of course we submit. But we don’t know what Your Honor intends to learn about the beggars’ backgrounds. I heard the Nanting coal mine is short of workers. If you were to send all those helpless wandering beggars straight into the mines, we’d be completely helpless.”

Le Wuya was not angered.

“Beggar Head jokes about the Nanting coal mine, so you must have heard of the big case I handled in this county some days ago. Then I have a joke of my own to share with you.”

Le Wuya lightly pressed the fan against his chin: “Wandering beggars are a motley crowd of uncertain identities. If they insist on gathering in my Nanting but refuse to obey orders and follow rules… doesn’t that smack of rebellion?”

Sheng Youde choked, looking at Le Wuya in disbelief.

Le Wuya continued unperturbed: “And you are the local Beggar Head. When the time comes to settle accounts, I won't leave you out. Then, will you still have the nerve to throw your weight around with small traders?”

Seeing Sheng Youde’s face turn pale, Le Wuya smiled and leaned closer: “Even if, hypothetically, I didn’t treat these beggars as human and sent them to die in the coal mines, at least you, Beggar Head, wouldn’t be the one to suffer.”

He tapped Sheng Youde lightly on the chest with his fan, producing a crisp sound: “…Don’t you agree?”

This outright threat made Sheng Youde realize that the magistrate’s earlier politeness had all been a pretense.

Since he tried being polite first and it failed, now he would use force.

Sheng Youde gave a dry laugh and managed a reluctant compliment: “Your Honor, you sure know your tricks.”

“…Pretty ruthless, huh? There’s worse to come.”

Le Wuya leaned back: “I remember you have one named Dong Dahe, and another named Chai An… Ah, I can't remember who's your number two and who's your number three. But it doesn’t matter.”

“If the Beggar Head won’t heed my well-meaning advice, I’ll just have a chat with them instead.”

“After all, who doesn’t want to climb up the ladder, right?”

Silence.

In the prolonged silence, the sound of the stall owner repeatedly twisting the lid of the chili sauce jar became conspicuous.

After a long moment, Sheng Youde spoke: “Your Honor, there’s no need to trouble others.”

“Tell me, what do you want me to do?”

Le Wuya: “Since the wandering beggars have come to Nanting, I must take charge. But I can guarantee that only the obedient beggars will be allowed to stay in Nanting. When that happens, they'll still answer to you, Beggar Head.”

Le Wuya: “…In exchange, whatever you know about the big and small affairs in Nanting and its surroundings, I must know as well.”

Sheng Youde: “…”

Previously, when the magistrate had approached him, it was with the same intention, only more euphemistically—calling it ‘cooperation.’ But he didn’t want to ally with the government, so he played dumb and thought he had brushed it off.

Now, he had no choice but to comply.

If he didn’t work for the magistrate, the magistrate would use the opportunity of regulating the incoming wandering beggars to split his men, authority, and income all at once, reducing him from ‘Beggar Head’ to a general without an army.

He took a deep breath: “Your Honor, can I ask, what do you need so many informants for?”

Le Wuya thought for a moment.

Finally, he replied: “It's a habit.”

Sheng Youde had wandered far and wide and settled in Nanting; he'd been drifting through life for half his years.

He had never met an official as weird as Master Wenren.

At this point, Le Wuya’s eyes lit up: “Oh, one more thing. I’ll trouble the Beggar Head to catch two people for me.”

He gestured as he described: “This morning, they entered the county through the North Gate, traveling together, trailing a merchant caravan from Tonglu. They nearly ruined my money stream.”

Sheng Youde nearly choked.

The moment he loosened his tongue, the magistrate was already jumping at the chance!

He hadn’t even found out who was behind this flood of wandering beggars, and the magistrate was pushing him to make arrests?

If he acted, he'd have to cross his fellow beggars on the street.

That would chain him to the magistrate for good!

“Don’t think you can fool me.” Sensing Sheng Youde’s feigned confusion, Le Wuya saw through him directly. “Ever since you noticed the increase in beggars in the county, you’ve had people watching them closely, haven’t you?”

Sheng Youde’s tense shoulders relaxed, and he gave a slight nod.

Since the magistrate had already figured this out, what was the point of resisting?

As if reading his mind, Le Wuya added: “Just find them and report to me. The county officers will grab them; you don’t need to act yourself.”

Just when Sheng Youde felt boxed in by the magistrate's pressure, that promise suddenly brightened his gloomy face.

At least he wouldn’t have to directly offend his peers…

Realizing he had such a thought, Sheng Youde was horrified to realize the young magistrate was effortlessly playing him, toyed with like a puppet.

As Le Wuya rose to leave, a sudden thought hit Sheng Youde: “Your Honor, these beggars… you didn't call them here, did you?”

Le Wuya lowered his eyes, lively and sharp, yet they gave Sheng Youde the creeps for no reason.

He remembered his grandma's old tales of fox spirits and bookworms.

Now, the fox spirit and the scholar were now one person, standing before him.

Just as Sheng Youde regretted being so blunt, Le Wuya shook his head lightly: “Nope.”

Sheng Youde first breathed a sigh of relief, but then his throat tightened again for no reason—

If the wandering beggars had been brought in by the magistrate, he could freely praise the magistrate's cunning.

If they were drawn by an outsider, then the magistrate must have been secretly eyeing him for ages, waiting for the perfect chance to snare him.

At this thought, Sheng Youde shivered.

…He felt like prey with a beast on his tail.

The stall owner had long polished the chili pot till it gleamed, wrapped it in paper and handed it over with both hands.

Le Wuya accepted it gladly. Besides paying, he kindly said, "If you ever really open a chili sauce shop, remember to invite me to have a look."

The stall owner, with eyes full of gratitude, nodded repeatedly.

...

Wen Renyue had recently taken on a somewhat roguish demeanor, having learned to mooch the office's lamp oil. He didn't pack his books until dusk, after finishing his essay and leaving it on Le Wuya's desk for review, then he prepared to leave the office.

As he stepped out of the office, he was still preoccupied with the matter of the wandering beggars in the county, his brow was furrowed with an unshakeable worry.

Just when his brow was deeply furrowed in worry, Le Wuya happened to approach from the opposite direction, also with a furrowed brow.

But what he was angry about was a tightly sealed earthenware jar.

That stall owner had been really thorough, sealing the chili jar extra tight.

Le Wuya hadn't had his fill earlier and was counting on this jar for an extra meal in the evening. He'd been wrestling with it the whole way, twisting and twisting, but couldn't figure it out. Quite annoyed, when he saw Wen Renyue standing under the office lantern staring at him, he immediately thrust the jar at him indignantly and complained, "I can't open it!"

Wen Renyue laughed in spite of himself.

Brother Gu was obviously exceedingly clever, yet the things in the world that could trip him up were always little things.

He reached out his hand and said, "Let me try."

A dusty, plain carriage slowly passed by on the main road.

The person inside the carriage lifted the cloth curtain and saw Le Wuya stamping his feet in frustration over a jar of chili sauce that couldn't be opened.

Those delicate and beautiful phoenix eyes slightly squinted.

In her mind surfaced the image of a person who, when out in the world, acted with authority, but at home, upon discovering that his favorite pastry shop had changed the chef and the taste, would slump onto the bed in frustration and refuse to get up.

...Could they really be that similar?