Chapter 126 The Imperial Heart

Chapter 126 The Imperial Heart

Yuan Zijin thought he had found a companion.

But the next day, Zhong Piaoping had cleaned himself up, put on coarse hemp mourning clothes, and filed a complaint at the yamen, accusing his own father. He claimed his father, Zhong Junxiong, had funded the Liao people and planned the assassination attempt on Magistrate Wenren.

He said it was exactly because the assassination had failed, and his father feared the magistrate would figure it out, that he had hurriedly pawned the family's belongings and prepared to flee Nanting.

His witnesses were the family's former steward and the young companion who came with him to Nanting.

The steward didn't want to get involved at first.

But Zhong Piaoping promised him, saying the master was the only one at fault—that he was just a servant who'd taken out money on his master's orders, with no idea where the money went, so he wasn't guilty of anything.

The steward sighed and stewed over it half the night, but in the end, he listened to his conscience and came forward to testify that the master had indeed secretly taken out a big sum of money and given it to these Liao folks he'd met out of nowhere.

Being an old pro at this kind of thing, he'd had the sense to bring the account book along.

Back then, the steward hadn't known how to log the expense, so he'd just scribbled down "charity donation."

That turned into evidence.

After all, when you give charity, you either set up a soup kitchen to feed the crowd, or hand out a few coins to beggars on the street—there's no way you'd hand one beggar a 150-tael note all at once.

And Zhong Piaoping's young buddy knew exactly what the Liao guy looked like—even remembered clear as day that his head was shaved like a lama's.

Putting the two accounts together, it was plain as day what Zhong Junxiong had been up to with that Liao man.

Now, Zhong Junxiong was already dead, and normally death would wipe the slate clean. But Zhong Piaoping said his father hadn't died by the law or by justice, and his crimes were still unpaid for.

Since he was accusing his father as a son, he was also willing to take on his father's crimes.

So he'd come to both accuse his dead father and turn himself in.

...

This wild story spread all over Nanting overnight.

People shook their heads and said that young Master Zhong had lived a wild life, looking like a total idiot—but only now did they see he had real backbone.

But for Yuan Zijin, having his partner in gossip suddenly become a prisoner hit him hard.

He stood there stunned for a long time, then packed up some wine and food and went to see him in jail.

"Why'd you have to accuse your own dad?" Yuan Zijin had always looked up to his father like he was everything, so he couldn't understand why Zhong Piaoping would do something so crazy. "He was your own dad—he's already gone. Wouldn't it've been better to let him go with his name clean?"

Zhong Piaoping said casually, "If I hadn't done this, I couldn't have taken them down."

Yuan Zijin's mouth dropped open a little: "...Huh?"

"I want that Hou guy and that Shi guy to be buried with my dad. But I know they're too slick with their words—they can make black sound white, make wrong sound right. In the temple, that Hou guy was scared shitless. If they get their nerve back in jail and flip their stories, claiming Wenren Mingke threatened them... I was afraid they wouldn't get what they deserved, so I figured, since I was already here, I might as well sue my dad too. That way, they'd have a much harder time weaseling out of it."

Zhong Piaoping pursed his lips and gave him a sheepish smile: "It's just me left in my family anyway. Might as well sue—no one else to drag into it."

Yuan Zijin listened, impressed: "You're really smart."

Zhong Piaoping shook his head: "I walked five hundred li with my folks, and all I did was think about this stuff."

Hearing how old and wise he sounded—even though he was younger than him—Yuan Zijin didn't know what to say.

Seeing him standing there clueless, Zhong Piaoping blinked and realized he could almost read his thoughts.

For the past month, he'd pulled the corpse cart, his mind numb and dull, just pushing forward like an old ox.

But he was his mom and dad's kid.

His dad had been slick and sneaky; his mom, bold and fierce.

Before, with those two big trees shading him, he could afford to not think, just lazing around under them, living like a carefree rich kid.

Not now.

After those two big trees came crashing down, all the cold winds and sharp blades came at him.

With no other choice, Zhong Piaoping had to dig his roots deep, soak up what he could, and stand on his own.

After all that was done, Zhong Piaoping gave his young buddy back his indenture papers—the kid had come with him back to Nanting and agreed to testify, which was already loyal and righteous. No reason for him to keep following a convict with no future.

But he was still scared of being alone, still wanted someone around.

So, facing Yuan Zijin, he leaned into the food basket all dramatic: "Got any chicken in there?"

Seeing him act his age for once, Yuan Zijin quickly said: "Yeah! And wine too!"

...

The confession written on burial cloth, along with Provincial Judge Ji Ying's report, was laid out neatly on the emperor's desk.

"What a strange official." The Emperor finished reading the confession, then the report, and laughed cheerfully. "What a character."

The Fifth Prince glanced around out of the corner of his eye and saw no one higher up was there.

He sighed silently and spoke up to answer the Emperor: "Father, who are you talking about?"

The Emperor never asked about his son's letters to the border generals, and still treated him just as warmly as ever: "Xiao Wu, come look at this."

The Fifth Prince took the weird-feeling confession with both hands and read it closely.

When he finished, he looked up, surprised: "Using gods and spirits to run a trial—this is really—"

The Emperor picked up his cup and took a sip, clearly in a great mood: "Xiao Liu, Xiao Qi, you two take a look too."

Xiang Zhi took the confession and read it carefully.

His eyes were clear and honest, but his mind was a mess.

He'd been ambushed, and he'd gotten hurt again.

What happened this time? Was it dangerous? Did anyone save him?

Last time he was hurt, he'd hidden in his bed, curled up in his arms, soft and warm like he had no bones, pressing against him like a kitten by the fire.

When he looked down, he saw the line of his back, curving in at the waist, going down further into... deeper places...

Before his thoughts could get out of hand, Xiang Zhi looked up and gave a sweet smile: "Congrats, Father. You've found another good man."

The Emperor turned to Xiang Zhijie: "Zhijie, what do you think?"

Xiang Zhijie looked up and said plainly: "When I last went to see Magistrate Wenren, his leg injury was bad. It's been a while—I wonder how he's doing now. That little border town doesn't have any good medicine to speak of..."

"Just grant him some medicine; we cannot let a flaw mar fine jade." Seeing his frank admission of visiting Nanting, the Emperor nodded with satisfaction. "Xiaoliu, you seem particularly concerned about that person."

Xiang Zhi replied, "Being both a beauty and a man of exceptional talent, who would not admire him?"

Xiang Zhi smiled serenely but gritted his teeth inwardly: How shameless of him to say that!

"Oh?" The Emperor turned to Jie Jitong with interest. "Yuheng, you met that person before and only praised his talents. What of his appearance? Is he really as Xiaoliu described?"

Jie Jitong, who had remained silent all along, replied, "Your Majesty, I have already answered: the four words 'a phoenix among men' say it all."

"Interesting. Most interesting." The Emperor clapped his hands in delight. "It seems I've been wasting his talents."

He then flipped through a memorial submitted by the Minister of Personnel, containing Le Wuya's last year's performance review and a list of his practical deeds for the people.

Redressing wrongful cases, taking over coal mines, establishing latrines, repairing irrigation systems, supporting the people's welfare, reducing taxes, building grand roads, smoothing trade routes...

Each item was plainly recorded.

The Emperor said with a smile, "What do you all think of me sending this phoenix among men to Tongzhou to serve as prefect?"

At these words, silence fell over the entire assembly.

Tongzhou?

Three consecutive prefects—two dead, one dismissed—not a single one had met a good end.

Was this a reward, or a punishment?