Chapter 128: Parting (II)

Chapter 128: Parting (II)

Le Wuya handed over all county affairs to Sun Ru, though there was little to hand over, as much of the county's business had already been managed by Sun Ru for the past year.

For Sun Ru, it was all familiar ground.

But Le Wuya had spent that year teaching Sun Ru through both words and deeds:

If one was willing to broaden sources of revenue, yield profits to the people, suppress the gentry, and consolidate power in his own hands, even a mere county magistrate could enjoy a more comfortable life than many high-ranking officials.

Le Wuya picked out all the most capable staff from the yamen to take with him, and Sun Ru was not annoyed—on the contrary, he was secretly delighted:

The magistrate was making room for him.

These men were already the magistrate's loyal inner circle; if Sun Ru took over, they might not be willing to accept his authority.

With them following the magistrate away, they could gain promotion on the one hand, and on the other, it would make it easier for Sun Ru to elevate others, grant favors, and re-establish his authority.

To carry this off perfectly, Sun Ru forced himself to keep a straight face, quietly drawing up his list of appointments, ambitious to continue Le Wuya's legacy and make Nanting flourish even more—determined not to be outdone by him.

Sun Ru had countless tasks ahead and immediately threw himself into work, spinning like a top.

Le Wuya returned to the study, with some time to himself.

With nothing to do, Le Wuya started fiddling with the book chest left by Wen Ren.

It was an old bamboo chest, plain-looking, clearly inherited from Scholar Ming.

What was inside was simple enough.

A knife, a brush, four or five book scrolls, and a cold oiled flatbread.

Le Wuya figured it was for him.

But Wen Ren had rushed off, never saying so in person.

Le Wuya took out the flatbread and ate it bite by bite, rather than let it go to waste.

Halfway through, he noticed the bamboo strips at one corner of the chest had worked loose. He fetched his tools, rolled up his sleeves, and got to work tightening the strips properly.

He had come to understand Wen Ren well: though born of merchant stock, he had no trace of extravagance, almost no material desires. Even if Le Wuya bought him a redwood chest with gilded trim, he likely wouldn't use it—he might even give it to Scholar Ming's mother to use as a vanity case.

He might as well fix it up while he was still around.

Re-weaving a bamboo chest was a major undertaking—every strip had to be tightened from top to bottom to make it hold together.

As Le Wuya, chewing on half a flatbread, sweating as he worked, a sound came from the window behind him.

Le Wuya turned around.

In the cool moonlight stood a graceful silhouette.

Wen Ren, who had disappeared for a day, stood outside the window, chest heaving slightly, staring without blinking at Le Wuya as he repaired his book chest.

In his eyes, Le Wuya wore soft undergarments, hair disheveled with a few curls falling before his ears, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, and a sesame seed stuck to the corner of his mouth—a total mess.

But to Wen Ren, he was still the most remarkable man in the world.

A man like this was fixing his chest.

His chest warmed, and he murmured, "...Brother Gu."

Le Wuya lowered the flatbread and smiled at him: "Back for your chest?"

Wen Ren lingered at the window, not coming in.

He didn't dare get too close to Le Wuya at that moment.

He was afraid he'd lose his cool or linger too long, so he kept his distance and said calmly, "Brother Gu, I've spoken with Scholar Ming's mother. After the autumn provincial exam, I'll come looking for you. The metropolitan exam is next spring—by then, I'll leave from Tongzhou."

Le Wuya was taken aback.

Wen Ren's few simple words concealed huge life decisions.

Le Wuya stood, stepped up, and pressed both hands on the window frame: "The exams are a major matter. After the metropolitan exam, you should head to the capital to study there. Why must you spend half a year in Tongzhou?"

Wen Ren answered simply, "To be with you."

"What, scared someone's gonna eat me?"

"Mm." Wen Ren nodded seriously. "If I can't see you're all right, I can't rest easy, and I won't be able to focus on the exam."

Le Wuya looked at him.

This man was as simple as his worn book chest.

If he said he'd keep him company, he'd go to the ends of the earth to do it.

Dealing with someone with such a pure heart was like drinking fine wine—sweetness known only to oneself.

"There's trouble with pirates brewing over there."

"I know."

"Does Scholar Ming's mother know? 'While parents live, one does not travel far'—let alone somewhere like that?"

"She knows. She said, 'To receive kindness and not repay it is no real person.'"

Wen Ren had his whole path planned out.

What else could Le Wuya say?

He'd always been headstrong—if he said he'd die, he'd die; if he said he'd leave, he'd leave.

Damn, he was something else.

Le Wuya, annoyed, handed the repaired chest back through the window: "You've decided everything, and you just come to tell me?"

Wen Ren held the chest and smiled, upright and gentle: "No, I came for the chest."

Le Wuya shooed him away: "Fine, fine, take it and go!"

Wen Ren said, "The flatbread's cold. I'll bring you a hot one tomorrow."

Le Wuya answered by taking a big bite of the cold flatbread and slamming the window shut.

Wen Ren held the chest and grinned like an idiot at the closed window for a long while.

A night breeze drifted by.

He remembered that Aunt Ming was still waiting for him at home, so he clutched his book box to his chest and walked out.

It wasn't until he got home and lay down that Wen Ren remembered there was still half a sesame seed stuck at the corner of his mouth.

...

After a fortnight of calm, Le Wuya received his appointment as Prefect of Tongzhou, along with the ruling on the assassination case.

At present, there was no hard evidence to prove that Hou Peng and Shi Liangyuan had been involved in Zhong Junxiong's plot against Magistrate Wenren.

However, the two men's confessions lined up with Zhong Piaoping's testimony:

They'd been unhappy with Magistrate Wenren over taxes and had plotted with Zhong Junxiong to do him in, but then Zhong Junxiong got hot-headed and took matters into his own hands.

When the plot fell apart, scared they'd be dragged down with Zhong Junxiong, they'd killed him in cold blood.

Hou Peng and Shi Liangyuan had poisoned a friend, a cruel and treacherous act. Under Dayu Law, anyone who kills with poison is to be beheaded.

The two were sent to the capital to await execution in autumn.

As for Zhong Piaoping, a son accusing his father goes against filial piety; but choosing justice over family follows the path of righteousness.

His Majesty wrote in his own hand: "Who doesn't fear death? A son accusing his father defies heaven, but his crime can be redeemed, and his situation calls for mercy. He's sentenced to military service, but he doesn't have to be sent far."

In other words, Zhong Piaoping would be switched from civilian to military rolls and set free from prison.

But from then on, he'd no longer be his own man.

Le Wuya sent in a memorial of thanks, recommending Sun Ru for the post of Magistrate of Nanting, and also asked to bring Zhong Piaoping and a bunch of the yamen clerks with him to Tongzhou Prefecture.

A few days later, the memorial landed on the emperor's desk.

"This handwriting's got real backbone. Just from the penmanship, you'd never guess it belonged to such a slick operator." The emperor smiled, half amused, his feelings impossible to read. "Look, he hasn't even taken office and he's already asking for this and that."

Le Wuya couldn't care less what the emperor was griping about from a thousand li off.

—You've tossed me into such a godforsaken place; asking for a few of your people is only fair. What's the big deal about asking for some men?

When Pei Mingqi heard he was leaving, he made a special trip from Qingyuan County to see him.

He got straight to the point: "I'm leaving too."

Le Wuya had heard this from him before, so he wasn't particularly surprised. "To the capital?"

"To the capital."

"And what about Old Tiger Yuan?"

"Given the honorary title of Grand Master of Glorious Happiness, Left Commander-in-Chief, plus the title of Grand Tutor to the Heir Apparent."

Le Wuya laughed.

Pei Mingqi shrugged helplessly too.

"Grand Master of Glorious Happiness" and "Grand Tutor to the Heir Apparent" were both honorary titles with no real power.

Le Wuya had once been Protector himself.

As for Left Commander-in-Chief, it used to be the top military post in the dynasty, with real power to boot.

However, as military authority gradually shifted to the Ministry of War, the Five Chief Military Commissions had gradually become empty shells.

In plain terms, Yuan Weiyan had outlived his usefulness to the emperor.

If the Yuan family wished to preserve their glory, his eldest son would have to ask for a demotion on his own and head to the border to earn his stripes; otherwise, they'd just be coasting on past glory until the well ran dry.

In Le Wuya's view, this move was actually pretty smart, kind of like the policy of splitting up fiefs. If applied properly, it could keep a steady pipeline of military talent coming and push the sons of generals to keep pushing themselves.

But a perfectly sound strategy had been twisted by the current emperor into a dirty backroom deal.

The reason was that the emperor cared more about his reputation than anything and refused to wear the label of "shortchanging loyal officials." Thus, he never made this rule known, just leaving the generals to guess endlessly, constantly proving their loyalty and bowing low until they were totally devoted to him.

And for those totally devoted to him, their kids could be spared the pain of losing power.

Back then, Imperial Consort Zhuang's father had died at the peak of his glory, loaded down with a long string of useless honorary titles.

After that, the Zhuangs fell, and the Yuans rose.

Now the Yuans had outlived their usefulness too.

Le Wuya said, "Now it's your Pei family's turn."

Pei Mingqi didn't much care about his own fate. "You needn't worry about me. Me going to the capital is just doing my duty. The place you're headed is the real..."

He paused for a long beat, swallowing the words "a den of tigers and dragons."

With Le Wuya about to leave, Pei Mingqi didn't want to pile on more worry. He gritted his teeth and said, vaguely, "Just be careful, all right?"

Le Wuya patted his shoulder. "Don't write to me. Don't get chummy with any prince."

Pei Mingqi nodded. "I understand. But you..."

Le Wuya grabbed his shoulders and gave him a playful shake. "You'll keep hearing about me. Don't worry."

Once the order came down, he had to go.

Qin Xingyue, He Qingsong, Yang Zheng, Hua Rong, and others were naturally ready to follow Le Wuya through thick and thin.

Zhong Piaoping, sentenced to military service and having buried his parents, had nothing left to tie him down and agreed to leave Nanting, a place full of painful memories.

The only one who had any objections was Yuan Zijin.

It wasn't that he thought Tongzhou was a bad post.

The southeastern coast was where his father, Old Tiger Yuan, had fought a hundred battles, and he was more than happy to go.

But he couldn't stand to leave Nanting.

Sure, he'd said a lot of dumb things and done a lot of dumb stuff, but his job in Nanting was his first real gig.

These aunties, those neighbors—they'd just wormed their way into his heart, and now he had to go. How could he take it?

He cried on the sly once, went out with red eyes to buy goodbye gifts, and handed them out one by one to the aunties. When he got back, he locked himself in his room and had another good cry.

...

Le Wuya didn't want to bother the townsfolk, so he planned to leave at dawn, hitting the city gate right as it opened.

Then he'd hit the road right away, no dawdling.

Unexpectedly, as soon as he stepped out of the government office, common folk who had been crouching there all night rushed out into the moonlight.

Before Le Wuya could even grab hold of them, the sound of drums and gongs rang out across every street and alley in Nanting.

Word spread like wildfire.

Without a single shout or announcement, countless sleepy-eyed townsfolk rose from their beds and poured out of their homes and into the streets.

Along the long avenue Le Wuya had overseen the construction of, the townsfolk knelt silently, tears welling in their eyes, watching him leave without a sound.

On every past occasion of a magistrate's departure, the farewells had been livelier, with more elaborate displays and varied performances.

Some would wail loudly, pounding their heads on the ground.

Some would rush forward, clinging to the magistrate's boots, making a show of stopping him.

Some would present an exquisite "people's umbrella," or lead the magistrate to a newly erected virtue stele, declaring with deep emotion that his kindness to Nanting towered above the sky and ran deeper than the sea, and that the people of Nanting would never forget it, wishing to erect a monument and record his legacy for all time.

What set this occasion apart was the unprecedented scale of the farewell.

Every man, woman, and child in the county had stepped out of their homes in the pale dawn light, kneeling in a dense, dark sea.

Occasional sobs of sorrow broke out from the crowd, and low murmurs arose:

"Take care, Magistrate, take care."

Le Wuya looked around and recognized familiar faces.

Wen Ren and Aunt Ming.

Hu Wen and Hu Wu, the brothers.

The street vendor whose noodles were famously awful but who had made a fortune selling chili sauce.

Beggar Chief Sheng Youde.

The walnut-carving artisan.

He could put a name to every single one of them.

Le Wuya studied each face carefully, thinking, "Good—this office was not served in vain."

Qin Xingyue rode ahead, holding aloft the great umbrella inscribed with the blessings of Nanting's people.

This was the only "people's umbrella" in the entire history of the Dayu dynasty to be made while the official was still in office.

He accepted this token of gratitude.

No better gift existed in the world.

And so, Le Wuya passed calmly through the people of Nanting, taking nothing for himself.

...

No one had ever witnessed such a solemn and sorrowful farewell, so even Yuan Zijin was struck dumb, his mouth hanging open.

The party traveled all the way to the city's outskirts.

A long wind swept past, and Le Wuya, stirred by the moment, looked back. On the high slope stood a black-maned horse.

Upon it sat a figure, silent and motionless, as if he had been waiting there for a long time.

The horse was a beauty, and so was the rider.

After a single glance, Le Wuya did not look back. He said something to the person beside him, then spurred his horse and galloped away.

He Lianche watched his retreating figure, tightening his grip on the reins.

Logically, Le Wuya should indeed have passed him by as if they were strangers.

He only knew that Le Wuya was leaving and wanted to ask if his leg injury had healed.

It seemed that they, as brothers, were destined to remain...

His thoughts halted.

Le Wuya, leaning low over his horse in a striking red robe, like a brilliant cloud, swept along the high slope road and rode back toward him.

A faint light flickered in He Lianche's eyes.

By the time he dismounted, Le Wuya was already standing before him.

Le Wuya jumped off his horse nimbly, landed firmly on both feet, and without a moment's hesitation, threw himself into He Lianche's arms.

He Lianche was both startled and delighted, though his tone remained as cold and hard as ever: "What did you come to me for?"

Le Wuya said playfully: "To show you my leg!"

He Lianche glanced down: "Aren't you worried about those people seeing..."

Le Wuya replied without hesitation: "They're all my people—what do I have to worry about? I'm more worried about you being upset, so I came to show myself to you!"

With that, he straightened up, beaming, and held out a hand: "Since you came to see me off, how can you come empty-handed? Where's my gift?"

He Lianche thought, "How did this man become so shameless, raised by the Dayu people?"

With that thought, he produced a long box.

Inside lay a finely crafted bow, pitch-black all over, carved with a jackdaw poised to take flight.

"For you," He Lianche said in a low voice. "A five-strength bow. Don't embarrass yourself."

Le Wuya took out the bow and tested the string, finding it both smooth and beautiful, almost unable to bear to put it down.

He let out a cheer and threw himself at He Lianche again, pressing close to his ear, saying delightedly, "Thank you, big brother!"

He Lianche's lips twitched as he fought back a smile.

...He very much wanted to crush this little frame in his arms, take him home, and never be separated from him for a lifetime.

But he was restrained, releasing the embrace after a moment, and said steadily, "Go do what you want to do. Just remember, you are a member of the He Lian family, and the He Lian family's motto..."

Le Wuya gazed into those wolf-green eyes and whispered solemnly, as if swearing an oath, "...Better to die than to fail."