Chapter 106: Blocking the Road

Chapter 106: Blocking the Road

As the saying goes, "In spring, cover up; in autumn, delay adding clothes." In his previous life, Le Wuya, when the autumn wind first picked up, indeed should have added garments promptly, or else a low-grade fever would cling to him relentlessly throughout the entire autumn—more stubborn than any ghost.

However, in this life, Le Wuya no longer had such worries.

With all matters settled and his heart at ease, he wore a light summer outfit, brought Wen Ren Yue along, and got ready to head home.

The capital was crowded and full of prying eyes, nothing like the peace of Nanting.

Last night, during the lantern festival fireworks, when spies couldn't move around easily, they'd managed to steal a moment to hang out—that was already more luck than they could've hoped for.

The capital—he would return to it sooner or later.

The people of the capital—he would meet them again in due time.

Thus, Le Wuya took leave of no one, tucked away his little fox tail, and headed back, loaded with gains.

On the way here, Le Wuya had sat alone in the carriage, playing chess against himself until he was thoroughly bored. Now, with a companion, he was in much better spirits.

Wen Ren Yue was not skilled at chess.

Le Wuya taught him while shamelessly swiping his pieces, hoping to see a look of surprise on his face.

Too bad his chess was sharp but his thieving was clumsy—by the time he stole the second piece, he was caught red-handed.

Wen Ren Yue grabbed his wrist and said, exasperated, "...Brother Gu."

Le Wuya declared boldly: "I'm drilling you. If someone ever tries to steal your pieces in a game, won't you know what to do?"

Wen Ren Yue: "Brother Gu, how many people who steal chess pieces do you think I'll encounter in my lifetime?"

Le Wuya puffed out his chest with pride: "Well, now you've met me, haven't you?"

Laughing it off, Le Wuya tried to pull his hand away.

Wen Ren Yue's lips twitched slightly, but he couldn't help calling him out: "Brother Gu, put the previous piece back too."

Le Wuya denied it: "What previous piece? There's no previous piece."

Wen Ren Yue sighed: "Under your thigh."

Le Wuya shifted in his seat: "Whose thigh are we talking about?"

Wen Ren Yue was hesitating—whether to openly reach out and feel for it, or to try to talk Le Wuya into returning the piece—when the carriage suddenly halted on the main road.

Seizing the moment while Wen Ren Yue turned his head, Le Wuya quickly transferred his stolen goods to his left palm and called out: "What's wrong?"

The coachman, speaking through the curtain, said, sounding hesitant: "Sir, someone's blocking the road."

Noticing the odd tone in the coachman's voice, Le Wuya did not rush to get out. Instead, he lifted a corner of the curtain and looked outside.

A red sedan chair was parked squarely in the middle of the main road, and beside it stood a young man with a dejected expression and a face that spelled trouble.

Wen Ren Yue did not recognize the newcomer: "Who is it?"

Le Wuya replied succinctly: "Trouble."

Seeing Le Wuya's carriage come to a stop, and the horse, in its boredom, already lowering its head to nibble at the wild grass growing from the cracks between the stone slabs of the road, Dragon Tiger General Yuan Weiyan lifted his carriage curtain and strode out of the red sedan with a commanding, swaggering stride.

His voice was full and resonant, with a deep, rumbling quality that made your ears ring: "The carriage ahead—is that Magistrate of Nanting, Wen Ren Ming Ke?"

Le Wuya dropped his playful, foppish act, and as he passed Wen Ren Yue, he lightly patted his shoulder: "Stay in the carriage."

Wen Ren Yue: "Do you need me to..."

Le Wuya pressed down on his shoulder: "A first-rank Dragon Tiger General is blocking my path and calling my name. You stay put, and don't you dare steal my pieces."

Wen Ren Yue paid no mind to his paranoid nonsense, and at his touch, obediently sat back in place, feeling neither bitter nor self-pitying.

He was a scholar and a part-time advisor; indeed, he had no standing to wade into the murky waters of the capital.

What he needed to do was conserve his strength, and when Le Wuya said he needed him, step up without hesitation to protect him.

...

Le Wuya jumped down from the carriage.

Both today and yesterday were fine, sunny days, and the brilliant sunlight poured down generously, casting a golden glow over his face.

Yuan Weiyan, who perpetually wore a grim, forbidding face, managed a stiff, polite smile when Le Wuya stepped down from the carriage.

He had planned to smile briefly, then immediately withdraw it.

A seventh-rank official—he was only worth a quick, half-hearted nod.

However, when he caught sight of Le Wuya's face in the sunlight, the smile froze on his lips and never faded.

Le Wuya drew closer and closer.

Yuan Weiyan stood under the blazing sun, momentarily unable to move.

A chill crept up from his heels.

He couldn't help it.

After all, watching a colleague who'd died four years ago—and who he'd traded plenty of barbs with—walk toward him was a shock like no other.

Fortunately, Yuan Weiyan had been on the battlefield, had personally severed the ears of pirates, and had nerves of steel.

He knew full well that no ghost would dare walk under the bright sun.

Moreover, he had personally slain many bandits in his time, his hands stained with blood, and had never seen one come back as a ghost.

While he was still stunned, Le Wuya approached, casually clasped his hands in greeting, and said: "I am Wen Ren Yue. May I ask who you are, sir?"

"I'm Yuan Weiyan."

The moment Yuan Weiyan spoke, he felt his face muscles tense up and hastily withdrew his smile.

Le Wuya raised an eyebrow in slight surprise, then swept his robes aside and knelt in salute: "This official pays his respects to the Dragon Tiger General."

Yuan Weiyan: "I'm here to apologize to Magistrate Wen Ren about what happened on the main street."

Le Wuya straightened up, composed and unruffled, adjusting his robes.

When he spoke, his tone was neither scared nor confused. He didn't mention that General Yuan should've brought his troublemaking son into the city to apologize to Erudite Yue Huai Jin at the Imperial Academy, rather than coming to find him.

Instead, Le Wuya asked: "How did you find out about me?"

This question left even Yuan Zijin, who was standing nearby cowering like a quail, dumbfounded.

Yuan Weiyan said in a gruff voice, "My son has behaved disgracefully, causing a great commotion in the capital and making a public spectacle of himself. It's my failure as a father to discipline him—"

Le Wuya thought, "Ah."

No need to listen to the rest.

The old emperor sent him.

...

Yuan Weiyan's face was grim, and he had his own grievances.

That day, his worthless second son, pretending to be drunk, had made a scene in the street. Fortunately, it was still dark and the streets were almost empty, so their quarrel hadn't become public knowledge.

Although the Sixth Prince and Seventh Prince had sent men to escort Yuan Zijin to the Shuntian Prefecture to surrender himself, the prefect could hardly arrest Yuan Weiyan himself. He could only let it slide, reluctantly mediating between the two sides.

—There were too many cases of officials' family members misusing official carriages in the capital. If they tried to crack down on all of them, they'd fail and offend people.

After the matter was settled, the prefect, wiping away cold sweat, privately sent word to Yuan Weiyan.

Normally, given Yuan Weiyan's temperament, he would have at the very most brought out the family whip, given his second son a whipping, then dragged him to the Sixth and Seventh Princes to offer gifts and apologies, and that would be the end of it.

Many things in officialdom were smoothed over in such a polite, face-saving way.

He never expected that the Emperor, having learned of the matter through some channel, summoned him yesterday and gently admonished him, making him break out in a cold sweat.

Yuan Weiyan was deeply ashamed, and in his mind, he flogged his second son until he was raw and howling.

As they spoke, the Emperor said in a gentle tone, "It's not a serious matter, the problem is your son is simply incorrigible. That seventh-rank magistrate was acting purely for your own good. Your son not only made a fuss but also tried to throw his weight around. Fortunately, my son Xiaoliu had the sense to step in and settle things, or who knows how far your son might have gone."

Yuan Weiyan, having entered the hall, didn't know how many times he'd nodded and said "yes," but here he paused.

Having risen to the rank of a top-ranking official, he was no fool.

A thought flashed through his mind: This was a dispute between the Yuan and Le families, so why did the Emperor specifically mention that little magistrate and the Sixth Prince?

He pondered it all night and had people keep watch on the courier station on the outskirts of the capital, inquiring about Magistrate Wenren's departure date.

Hearing he was about to leave, Yuan Weiyan immediately brought out his carriage and blocked his path on the main road, putting on a fierce, imposing stance as if to intimidate this little magistrate with his military bearing.

But Yuan Weiyan's plans went much deeper.

What deep friendship could there be between the Sixth Prince in the capital and a county magistrate from a remote border town?

The Emperor, though he didn't say it outright, wanted to find out exactly that.

If he could pry information out of this little magistrate, it would make up for his son's mistakes.

With that thought, Yuan Weiyan shot a probing glance, trying to intimidate the magistrate into revealing his relationship with the Sixth Prince.

He pointed to the carriage behind him and announced, "In the end, it's my failure as a member of the Yuan family to discipline properly, and His Majesty has already reprimanded me. I've racked my brain for days over how to deal with this brat, and today I've come up with a good idea—so I've brought him to see Magistrate Wenren."

With that, Yuan Weiyan bent down and pulled out a massive hammer from the carriage: "This carriage is yours to do with as you please, Magistrate Wenren! Please, in front of me and this boy, smash it. Zijin and I will watch closely so we learn our lesson!"

Yuan Zijin, who had no idea why his father had dragged him to the road at dawn and was still half-asleep, was shocked by his father's words—even more than Le Wuya—and nearly jumped out of his skin: "Father, you mustn't!"

Wasn't this trampling all over the Yuan family's dignity?

Le Wuya, just as Yuan Zijin expected, looked puzzled: "...General Yuan, I merely intervened out of a sense of justice. I'm not the one who was actually wronged."

Yuan Weiyan's expression was stern and unrelenting, and he bellowed, "Magistrate Wenren, don't be modest! The eldest son of the Le family was hiding in the carriage, refusing to show himself. It was you who, borrowing the Sixth Prince's influence, spoke up for justice and argued the case so clearly and sharply that I was ashamed when I heard about it later! You were willing to teach my son a lesson before, so today, please take the time to teach him again!"

This mocking speech was a deliberate bluff by Yuan Weiyan.

He insisted that Le Wuya had "borrowed the Sixth Prince's influence," and if Le Wuya tried to deny it and explain his relationship with the Sixth Prince, he'd inevitably let something slip.

Moreover, he was certain Le Wuya wouldn't dare to smash it.

Destroying a top-ranking official's carriage was a serious crime.

He wouldn't dare, not even with three times the nerve.

Since he wouldn't dare act, he'd have no choice but to talk.

Yuan Weiyan fixed his eyes on him, waiting to see how he'd defend himself.

Sure enough, the corner of Le Wuya's mouth twitched slightly, and he stepped back a few paces, as if afraid, as if preparing to kowtow.

Le Wuya stepped back, stopped at a distance, and declared, "General Yuan, the sages said, 'Example is better than precept!' You've come in person with your son, condescending to visit a humble official like me—this shows your sincerity, and I, Ming Ke, am truly moved!"

Yuan Weiyan's thick brows furrowed, sensing trouble.

Le Wuya ignored him and turned to the stunned Yuan Zijin: "Second Young Master Yuan, do you realize you've done wrong?"

Yuan Zijin felt the question was underhanded—whether he answered yes or no, he'd be wrong.

He gritted his teeth: "...Magistrate Wenren, this humble one knows his wrongs!"

Le Wuya: "Then do as your father said!"

At these words, Yuan Zijin was struck speechless, and he stared blankly at his father.

What was the meaning of this?

Wouldn't anyone, upon hearing of such a big spectacle as smashing a carriage, try to talk him out of it?

Why was he egging him on?

Yuan Weiyan was stunned for a moment, then his beard twitched in a mix of anger and amusement.

What a sly little fellow!

So his stepping back earlier was to avoid being hit by flying splinters?!

Yuan Zijin, now frantic, shouted angrily, "How dare you, you wretch!"

"Why wouldn't I dare?"

Le Wuya shut him up with a single sentence: "General Yuan said I'm relying on the Sixth Prince's influence."

Since Yuan Weiyan had already respectfully acknowledged that he was "borrowing the Sixth Prince's influence," if he actually did, what could Yuan Weiyan say?

Stammering, Yuan Zijin tried to argue further, but suddenly received a powerful kick to the backside, nearly sending him sprawling face-first.

"You beast, did you hear what Magistrate Wenren said?" Yuan Weiyan said. "Smash it!"

With that, Yuan Weiyan narrowed his eyes and scrutinized Le Wuya closely.

Interesting.

Ever since that little bastard from the Le family died, the court has been a dead pool—utterly dull.

Been a long time since we've seen a kid this sharp and full of life.

Author's note:

Facing a flattery trap? Just kick the bastard in and walk away. —Le Wuya