Chapter 71: Bandit Troubles (Part 2)

Chapter 71: Bandit Troubles (Part 2)

Yizhou sat at the border between the Jing tribe and Dayu, a place where "winds churn the vast sky, waves churn the winds, and fish and dragons mingle in one river"—a genuine melting pot of chaos.

Countless fugitives flocked to this place seeking refuge, and as a result, mountain bandits flourished like spring chives—cut down one patch, and another would pop right back up.

It was said that the Jing tribe harbored an intense hatred for bandits; anyone who slipped into their territory to commit crimes would be wiped out to the last man.

Thus, most bandits dared only to lurk in the mountains, doing their raiding and looting inside Dayu's borders.

Upon hearing this, Pei Mingqi's sharp brows furrowed: "The day before yesterday?"

At his question, Le Wuya shot him a wary look.

Bandits causing trouble and slaughtering civilians was squarely within General Dingyuan's jurisdiction.

Such a grave matter, occurring the day before yesterday, should have hit his desk by dawn yesterday.

And yet here it was, the next day, and he still had no idea?

This was indeed urgent. Pei Mingqi didn't waste a second—in the blink of an eye, he was fully dressed and out the door like a whirlwind.

But before Le Wuya and the others could begin their deliberations, he came tearing back just as fast, clutching a big bundle of pastries, and shoved them into Le Wuya's hands: "Osmanthus cakes. I had them make a batch special, no filling, just for you. I'll come find you when I have time."

And with that, the whirlwind was gone, not even looking back.

Le Wuya hefted the heavy bundle of pastries in his hand.

Just like when they were kids—whenever he found something good, he'd always bring it to Le Wuya first.

...Even if there was enough here to feed a whole pig.

He vaguely remembered that when they were young, Little Phoenix had bitten into a really good apple, been blown away by it, and immediately gifted the Le family an apple tree.

The feeling he'd had that day, seeing a random tree show up in his courtyard, was probably about the same as holding these osmanthus cakes now.

With one man gone, Le Wuya turned to the other: "You're not going?"

Hearing Le Wuya talk to a prince like that, Deputy Magistrate Sun felt himself sway, about to pass out again.

Zhi Jie shook his head: "With a massacre happening this close by, how could I possibly walk away now?"

He looked around and picked out the one most eager to suck up to him: "I'll be imposing on Magistrate Wenren and Deputy Magistrate Sun for a while."

Deputy Magistrate Sun, hearing his name, perked right up and answered with great enthusiasm: "Yes, yes! Sixth Prince, you're too kind. I'd gladly serve you to my dying breath—"

That flattery was indeed laid on a bit thick.

The incident hadn't happened in Nanting—it was in Xingtai.

They were both in Yizhou, but a hundred li apart.

The moment Zhi Jie walked into the study, he was caught off guard by two portraits of Xiao Qi hanging on the wall.

One showed him with a calm, composed expression.

The other had him smiling sweetly.

He dropped his gaze, said nothing at all, and just slipped the Taoist beads off his wrist, counting them one by one to calm himself.

Le Wuya, for his part, saw the two portraits as two different people, so he had no idea what was going through Zhi Jie's mind.

He invited Zhi Jie to take the seat of honor, hung a map of Yizhou on the wall, and had Deputy Magistrate Sun lay out the details, while he sat off to the side, staring at the map and quietly working through his own thoughts.

Nanting County sat on flat, open ground, with only a small barren hill nearby that couldn't hide a soul—which is why it had been spared the bandit scourge.

If it had been like Xingtai County—backed up against endless mountain ranges, with banditry running rampant for years—that would've been a real headache.

Luckily, Shao Hongzhen, who'd taken over as magistrate of Xingtai two years ago, was a capable, hardworking man. He governed with real drive—building up defenses on the outside and fostering moral reform on the inside—and turned Xingtai County into an iron fortress from the ground up.

Since he took office, banditry had dropped off sharply. Even the ones still holed up in the mountains didn't dare raid, and folks' lives had settled down a good deal.

With a massacre like this suddenly happening on his watch, Shao Hongzhen was probably about to have another headache.

Le Wuya had run into Shao Hongzhen a few times at the Prefect conferences.

The man was in his thirties, with an oval face, a tall build, and plain features, wearing a pair of crystal spectacles.

Just as stern-faced, but unlike the fiery Qi Wuhu, he was a man of quiet depth—calm as still water.

Whatever Prefect Lyu asked, he answered, and not a word more.

A man like that, with that kind of iron-fisted resolve, earned Le Wuya's deep respect. He'd been wanting to find a chance to pick his brain.

But when Qi Wuhu heard what Le Wuya was planning, he actually advised against it, which was rare for him.

"If you want to make friends with him, that's on you. Just don't complain when everyone else gives you the cold shoulder."

"What do you mean?"

Qi Wuhu, blunt as ever, cut straight to the heart: "He's got his borders locked down tight, keeping bandits out of Xingtai. So where do you think those bandits go to rob and pillage? If you lived next door to him, would you like him?"

Le Wuya: "I would. Having someone to race against on defense? I'd love that."

"Easy for you to say," Qi Wuhu said. "The character for 'official' has two mouths—one for power, one for money. With those two mouths propping it up, your official cap stays on straight. Defense takes men, and even more than that, it takes money. The three counties bordering him—Buda, Ansi, and Xi Township—have poor soil and rough terrain. They can barely scrape together their taxes to the court every year. Where are they supposed to get money for defense? By squeezing the people dry?"

"So how does Wenfu manage to have money?"

"He lives off the land—grows medicinal herbs up in the mountains and sells them. He invited me out to see it once. I don't know anything about herbs, so I couldn't give him advice—just passed along a few tricks for making fertilizer."

Le Wuya said, surprised: "Xingtai's a hundred and fifty li from Jinyuan. You went all that way just to look?"

Qi Wuhu shot back: "No kidding. You invited me, and didn't I come?"

Le Wuya: "Brother Yingchen, your logic makes sense, but what did Wenfu do wrong?"

Wenfu was Shao Hongzhen's style name.

Qi Wuhu said flatly: "Both sides have it rough. Wenfu gets frozen out by the bureaucracy for keeping his people safe. Meanwhile, the county clerks in those three counties—whose own people are suffering because of their lousy governance—don't have the ambition to do better, so instead they make life hard for Wenfu in official circles. Not exactly admirable, but you can see where they're coming from. I've got my hands full just looking after Jinyuan's people. I've got no interest in playing mediator for them."

While Le Wuya sat there lost in thought, Deputy Magistrate Sun had, in the meantime, finished his rundown on Shao Hongzhen.

After hearing all that, Zhi Jie gave a slight nod: "Sounds like a capable official."

Deputy Magistrate Sun, eager to look good, didn't dare show any jealousy. Besides, the guy really was talented, so he carefully echoed: "The Sixth Prince is right, absolutely. Might I ask for the Sixth Prince's and the Magistrate's orders on how to proceed?"

Zhi Jie had no intention of stepping on anyone's toes, so he turned to Le Wuya, waiting for his call.

Le Wuya rested his head on his hand. His head was still pounding, but he was used to thinking through pain. A lingering hangover headache wasn't nearly enough to throw him off.

He drawled: "It's been more than two days since the incident, hasn't it?"

Deputy Magistrate Sun: "Yes."

"How many people were involved?"

"The wanted circular says twelve, and they haven't been caught yet."

"Which mountain are they holed up on?"

"Still looking into it."

Le Wuya closed his eyes.

Just as Deputy Magistrate Sun wondered if he had fallen asleep, he spoke with his eyes still shut, in a measured tone: "Never mind the rest for now. The key is to watch our own doors."

Wen Ren blinked:

... "Never mind the rest"?

That was a downright strange thing to say.

But Le Wuya didn't elaborate, instead smoothly issuing a series of orders:

"Summon my beggar crier squad, have them sing beggar chants throughout the city, and spread the word. From today, the curfew moves up by an hour—close the city gates the moment it gets dark, until the bandits are caught. Don't blow it out of proportion; if rumors spread that over a hundred people died in the neighboring county, I'll have their heads."

"Many farmers live by the tea hills outside the city. During this period, take roll call every morning and evening—not a single person missed."

"For the surrounding villages, send fast constables to notify each one that anyone traveling must go in groups of at least three from now on."

"The current setup of one visible and one hidden sentry should be doubled to two visible and two hidden. Pay these local militia triple their wages, and tell them to keep their eyes peeled during this time. Even if they don't care about the safety of the people, they should look out for their own skins with desperadoes on the loose."

"Tell the city's inns to carefully check their guests. Anyone without proper documentation or seals shouldn't be allowed to stay just because they have money—they might make it but not live to spend it."

"These men robbed rich farmers, so they couldn't have taken only cash. Rich farmers have plenty of land, but not necessarily much ready money—any wealth they have is usually converted into land or valuables that hold their value. Deputy Magistrate Sun, the prefecture has drawn up a list of lost items, hasn't it?"

Deputy Magistrate Sun replied: "Yes, Your Honor sees clearly. The list came with the wanted circular. The stolen silver only came to about twenty-some taels, but quite a few gold ornaments, silver items, and jewelry were lost. I took a quick look—they're worth at least several hundred taels of silver."

Le Wuya: "How many pawnshops are there in the city?"

He wasn't asking anyone—he was asking himself.

After doing the math in his head, he quickly gave himself the right answer: "Hmm, seven aboveboard and three under-the-table."

"Send the list to all the pawnshops. If anyone comes in to pawn something similar to what's on the list, find a way to hold them there, then report to the yamen."

Deputy Magistrate Sun noted each instruction, but when he reached this one, he grimaced, looking troubled.

Le Wuya, eyes still closed, seemed to see in all directions: "What? A problem?"

Deputy Magistrate Sun sneaked a look at the Sixth Prince and said cautiously: "Your Honor, everything else is no problem—especially the inns, since they fear trouble most and wouldn't dare deceive us. But these pawnshops..."

Pawnshops have always been profit-driven, dealing in cash-and-carry. Even if a murderous bandit came in to pawn something, as long as the goods were the real deal, they'd have no reason to turn away money.

After all, when bandits are at their wit's end and only seeking cash, the pawnshops are happy to play dumb, seizing the chance to drive prices down and rake in a fortune.

"Don't worry about it—just send out the list as I said." Le Wuya rubbed his temples. "Tell them plainly: if they want to get rich, there's a time for everything."

Deputy Magistrate Sun: "...Yes."

Though he doubted such a verbal warning would do any good, with the Sixth Prince right there, he didn't want to keep pressing questions and look bad. So he swallowed his reservations and turned to go be his mouthpiece.

While Le Wuya was giving orders, Wen Ren watched him with a keen gaze.

He was most captivated by this side of him—in full command, with all the answers, utterly impossible to look away from.

But after gazing for a while, he noticed something was off.

...Zhi Jie, seated in the seat of honor in the study, was also staring just as intently at his Brother Gu.

Sensing Wen Ren's probing gaze, Zhi Jie looked back at him.

He was at ease, and Wen Ren was not one to avoid it either.

So they silently regarded each other.

Outside the window, summer cicadas chirped in alternating high and low tones.

As the sun climbed higher, the air grew gradually muggy.

Le Wuya's mind had been active for a while, but now it grew sluggish again.

He thought drowsily that he really shouldn't drink anymore.

But then he thought again and perked up.

In his past life, he'd never gotten drunk no matter how much he drank—and it was precisely that tolerance that had prematurely wrecked his body.

Now in a new body, his appearance was increasingly resembling his former self, yet one drink and he's out.

Clearly, his ruined body from the last life had truly been left behind four years ago, with no chance of troubling him again.

Le Wuya hadn't finished basking in the thought when he heard the distant sound of a drum from the yamen gate.

He jolted awake and sat up straight.

Given that recent disaster in Xingtai, the drum's sound was hard not to find unsettling.

Soon, a runner from the duty room came to report, dispelling their concerns in a few brief words: "Your Honor, Li Ping from Li's Soy Sauce Shop got into a quarrel with a customer over the scale, and it turned into a brawl. Li Ping is being held down and beaten. His wife came in tears to file a complaint, saying if no one intervenes, her husband will be killed!"

Le Wuya rubbed his eyes. "Coming right now."

As he hoisted himself up from his chair, he noticed the Sixth Prince was still present.

Just as he was wondering how to handle him, Zhi Jie graciously made the arrangement himself: "Magistrate Wenren, don't mind me—go tend to your duties. Around this time, my people should be arriving in the city to find me."

This time, Zhi Jie had brought along Ru Feng, officially as his personal attendant.

To throw off the covert spies, he'd had to leave Ru Feng behind at the courier station.

After a whole night, Ru Feng was probably worried sick and likely had a long scolding waiting for him.

Le Wuya then turned to Wen Ren.

Wen Ren asked: "What's today's topic?"

Le Wuya yawned: "Using Xingtai County as a case study, write an essay on how to handle bandits."

Wen Ren bowed his head: "Yes."

Le Wuya felt pretty at ease about these two: both were soft-spoken and mild-tempered, like cotton, so at least he didn't have to worry about them fighting.

With that said, he picked up the osmanthus cake, about to take it with him.

He couldn't eat that much osmanthus cake by himself.

But this was a gift from Little Phoenix to him alone, a whole different meaning from the time he'd bought a batch of sugar cakes.

Even if it went stale, even if it spoiled, he couldn't bear to give it to anyone else.

This was a pact they'd made as kids, and even after growing up, even after being reborn, it couldn't be forgotten.

Before leaving, he said, "Skip breakfast this morning, and have a few bowls of hot noodle soup sent over for lunch."

The Sixth Prince said, "Ru Feng's a great cook; have him do it."

Le Wuya knew Ru Feng and had tasted his cooking, so he was delighted: "Then I'll thank the Sixth Prince ahead of time."

The study door gave a creak and closed.

Spies did their work under cover of darkness; they wouldn't still be crouched on the rafters in broad daylight.

As the first light of dawn crept in, he found a spot to hide.

So at least for now, Zhi Jie didn't have to worry about anyone listening in.

Wen Ren Yue bowed formally and got up to grind ink.

As he passed Zhi Jie, Zhi Jie reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

Zhi Jie's voice stayed soft and polite, like a gentle spring rain, almost mesmerizing: "I hear that since you got out of prison, your temperament's changed completely, like you're a different person entirely."

Wen Ren Yue said, "To answer the Sixth Prince: when a person goes through something huge, they're bound to change a bit."

Zhi Jie asked, "Is this change the work of man, or of the gods?"

Wen Ren Yue lowered his eyes, deflecting: "The Master doesn't talk about ghosts and gods."

Zhi Jie said, "Not talking about it doesn't mean it doesn't exist. I've seen it myself; I believe."

He'd heard of this Ming Xiangzhao.

Even a drastic personality change couldn't go this far.

Others who didn't believe in spirits would find a reasonable explanation for themselves: he'd brushed with death and come out a new man—that made sense.

But Zhi Jie was different:

If the teacher had taken over that body, where did the real Wen Ren Yue go?

The teacher was always careful—how could he, right after coming back, be so chummy with some scholar, always together?

...Unless they shared an important secret.

This was exactly the trick the teacher had taught him once.

Zhi Jie used it cleverly, turning it right back on the teacher.

He looked straight at Wen Ren Yue: "Who are you?"

Wen Ren Yue said, "Just a poor scholar from the countryside, a dying man, taken in by the magistrate's kindness and taught with care. That's all."

"That's no reason. He treats you too well for that to be all there is."

At these words, Wen Ren Yue raised his eyes.

His eyes were dark and deep, with a coldness that was hard to put into words: "Maybe because I look a bit like the Sixth Prince, and I've got a clear conscience."