Chapter 181: Like Fire (1)

Chapter 181: Like Fire (1)

The Ministry of Personnel's transfer order had already been issued; it was difficult to change now.

Le Wuya neither had the ability to press the Minister of Personnel's head from a thousand li away and demand he rescind the appointment, nor could he stuff Zong Yao back into his mother's womb. He could only settle his mind and seriously ponder how he should treat this young friend of the Zong family.

After a moment of soul-searching, Le Wuya arrived at his first conclusion with absolute certainty:

First, it was the Zong uncle and nephew who had wronged him, Le Wuya.

In order to drag those two corrupt pests down, he had deliberately sullied his own name, claiming to have sheltered their loan-sharking business, making it sound utterly convincing in his confession.

His already modest Le household had ended up confiscated, and at least ten or twenty percent of the blame should go to those two, right?

If his family home hadn't been cleaned out completely, Sister Qi would have had more start-up capital for her business after arriving in Tonglu.

Wouldn't he be living off her even more comfortably now?

Back in the day, when Le Wuya was sick out of his mind in prison, his thoughts never rested, churning and racing without pause.

One day, staring at the filthy, pitch-black prison door, he pondered a serious question: What if the Zong uncle and nephew, after dying and becoming ghosts, joined forces with the likes of Jin Donglai and came to corner him after his own death?

The result of his deliberation was quite optimistic:

The Zong uncle and nephew had been secretly running loan-sharking operations, and being bitten to death by a passing mad dog like him—no matter how you spin it, it wasn't unjust. It was instant karma.

Even if they all became ghosts, they should tuck tail and run as far away as possible, lest he gleefully chase them down for another bite, not even getting a decent death.

Le Wuya sat on the swing, gazing at the bright sky and blazing sun, drifting off in thought.

The Zong uncle and nephew had long since rotted into the mud; they were nothing to fear.

But what about this Zong Wenzhi?

Wenren Yue pushed the swing for him, off and on. Seeing Le Wuya's expression growing increasingly serene, he knew his companion already had a plan about seventy or eighty percent formed in his mind.

Wenren Yue looked at him with tender eyes: "What do you intend to do?"

Le Wuya yawned and offered his second conclusion: "If I'm not afraid of the dead, why would I be afraid of the living? He should be the one afraid of me."

Hearing this, Wenren Yue's movements paused, and he stopped pushing the swing.

Le Wuya brought the swing to a halt, tilted his head back, and lazily asked Wenren Yue in return: "What, are you afraid I'll wipe out the whole family?"

Wenren Yue chuckled and reached out to shield him from the gradually intensifying sunlight: "Best not to. If you can avoid stirring up trouble, then don't."

Le Wuya waved a hand lazily: "Who wants to provoke him?"

Back then, his affair had caused a huge stir all over town, and the Zong family had certainly been gone over from top to bottom.

This Zong Wenzhi hadn't died with his brother and uncle, and had even preserved his official position—only sitting on the bench for a few years. That was enough to show that at least at that time, he hadn't done anything so awful that it angered both heaven and man.

Then Le Wuya asked Wenren Yue in return: "But what if he provokes me?"

Wenren Yue's palm was very close to Le Wuya's eyes.

His eyelashes brushed against Wenren Yue's palm, carrying a strange warmth and a ticklish tingle.

Wenren Yue found it quite amusing. Like he was dealing with a little brother who loved to act spoiled, he bent down, keeping a palm's width of distance, and soothed him in a soft voice: "Then I'll help you keep an eye on him."

With that, Wenren Yue gave his nape a gentle lift: "Don't talk with your head tilted back like that. If you throw your neck out, you'll be whining about the pain again."

Le Wuya laughed, a clear, clean laugh.

He stood up and adjusted his collar: "Off to the government office! Buy me a strip cake on the way!"

Wenren Yue watched his retreating figure.

No matter how he looked at Le Wuya, he was always perfect in his eyes.

However, that "bad" side of him would always surface from time to time, making a smug face at him before quickly going back into hiding.

Le Wuya had never explicitly told Wenren Yue how Wei Yixian had actually fallen from power.

But looking at the cellar in the backyard, where mud had washed away all traces, what couldn't Wenren Yue figure out?

His official rank was rising, the struggles growing more numerous. He had to be a hundred times craftier than the wicked to fight his way to a stable foothold.

What if he sank deeper into the mire again, involuntarily "turning bad" once more?

Wenren Yue weighed the matter carefully and reached his conclusion: He needed to keep Brother Gu in check.

...Whether he could actually manage it was another matter.

With that thought, he took long strides and caught up with Le Wuya.

Le Wuya brazenly rummaged through his money pouch: "Did you bring money?"

"Not much. But there's certainly enough to buy one strip cake."

"Hmph, poor!"

"A poor scholar, what can I do?" Wenren Yue said frankly. "You eat; I won't be tempted."

Le Wuya nudged him with his elbow: "You make me sound like a greedy little brat!"

Wenren Yue burst out laughing. Because the description was far too accurate.

Le Wuya waved his hand dismissively: "Forget it. This time you treat, and I'll settle the bill. But next time, remember to treat me back."

"Brother Gu is out of money?" Wenren Yue was somewhat surprised. "When I returned to my hometown, Father asked me to bring back some bank drafts. Didn't I give them all to you?"

In financial matters, Wenren Yue had always kept an extremely clear division between himself and Le Wuya.

Since he had invited Brother Gu back from beneath the earth, then Wenren Yue's identity, status, salary—including the allowance from his father—all these external possessions should belong to Brother Gu. He himself couldn't take even a little more than his share.

Le Wuya had remarked more than once that he was so upright it was almost creepy, and was scary to look at.

Wenren Yue didn't see anything frightening about himself, so he assumed Brother Gu was joking and laughed it off.

Le Wuya said with an air of calm assurance: "That's your money. I need to save it for you."

Seeing him phrase "mooching" so elegantly and with such a straight face, Wenren Yue smiled with his lips pressed together: "Brother Gu, you're being unreasonable again."

The two walked side by side, talking and laughing as they headed out.

What Wenren Yue wanted had never been much.

If not for his father's persistent wish to bring honor to the family name, he would rather stay home and just hold his provincial scholar title.

Had it not been for Scholar Ming being falsely accused, with him and his mother in mortal danger, he'd never have risked his own neck to seek justice for Scholar Ming.

Just trading barbs with him like this and heading to the yamen together on official business was enough to make Wenren Yue feel an extraordinary peace and contentment, wanting nothing more.

...

Le Wuya's prediction hit the mark.

Zong Yao had managed to survive that great calamity without being dragged down by his elder brother and uncle, which said a lot about his knack for self-cultivation and self-preservation.

Since his arrival, aside from nearly tripping over the yamen steps the first time he laid eyes on Le Wuya's striking face, Zong Yao had kept a low profile.

He was a fairly standard civil official—refined and reticent, wrote a mean essay, and spoke in a soft, gentle voice.

Though past thirty, he had the makings of a pretty boy: fair skin, a thin beard, and brows forever furrowed in worry. At first glance, he was kind of endearing.

He moved quietly into the official residence near the yamen that had originally been set aside for Le Wuya, without a word of complaint.

When it came to the grain management, farming, and water conservancy duties assigned to him, he dug into each one, humbly asking the clerks for guidance whenever he hit something he didn't understand.

Even though Le Wuya had held back the most crucial personnel appointments and military command, he didn't raise a single objection and accepted it all without question.

With Wei Yixian—that troublemaker who talked in a sly, sarcastic drawl and could spin eight hundred schemes in a single sentence—as a contrast, Mu Jiazhi found the gentle, modest Zong Yao more and more agreeable by the day.

One day, a bitter wind howled, leaves went flying, frost covered the ground, and the cold had everyone wanting to stay indoors.

Le Wuya, Mu Jiazhi, and Zong Yao—the three top officials in Tongzhou—gathered at the yamen, sitting around a brazier brewing tea, enjoying a nice, easy moment.

Rubbing his hands together, Zong Yao said with feeling: "Everyone says Jiangnan is wonderful, and it really is. Back in the capital at this time of year, the ink would be frozen solid in the inkstone—you'd need a heated inkstone with charcoal to keep it liquid."

Le Wuya cradled his teacup, the steam making his lashes look dark and long, casting a shadow like raven feathers: "Yeah. The beauty of it is, it's the perfect time for the Japanese pirates to raise hell."

Zong Yao: "..."

He went quiet for a beat, then turned to Mu Jiazhi, face slightly flushed: "Assistant Prefect Mu, did I say something wrong?"

Assistant Prefect Mu wanted to say something comforting, but the words stuck in his throat.

Le Wuya's words were a bit harsh, but they were the truth, and there was no arguing with that.

Mu Jiazhi didn't want to knock this scholarly official who was a bit out of touch with practical matters, so he steered the conversation to the pirate threat: "Luckily, this year's pirate raids haven't been as bad as in past years."

Zong Yao asked politely: "May I ask how you, sir, handled it?"

Le Wuya said nothing.

He took a hot sip of tea, letting the strong brew burn a warm path down his throat.

He draped the fox-fur robe He Lianche had given him over himself like a blanket, curling up in the armchair like a fox holed up for winter, looking perfectly at peace.

Mu Jiazhi took over: "This year Tongzhou had no major disasters, the harvest was decent, few refugees, so the pirates couldn't recruit anyone. Early in the year, we caught a Japanese raider named Shinjima Ichiro—a big fish—and that scared them off again."

At that, Mu Jiazhi remembered that Le Wuya had arrived in Tongzhou on the very day Shinjima Ichiro was executed, and a faint smile tugged at his lips.

He continued: "Having lost a key man, the pirates naturally wanted revenge, but they never found the right opening. This summer, a Yamen Clerk vanished without a trace, and we figured it was the pirates settling a score. We tightened security everywhere, ran thorough searches, and chased off a few bands of roving bandits, which knocked their morale down another peg."

"Later, Prefect Wenren managed to plug the hole in military pay, giving morale a real boost..."

At that, Mu Jiazhi suddenly realized that since Le Wuya had shown up, Tongzhou had indeed gotten a lot quieter.

But as he'd just said, the good times wouldn't last.

Mu Jiazhi looked at Le Wuya: "You're right, sir. Winter's coming, and inevitably some starving refugees will throw in with the pirates. Those bastards are likely to regroup and try to hit merchant ships and homes again."

Zong Yao followed Mu Jiazhi's eyes to Le Wuya.

But when his eyes landed on Le Wuya's face, Zong Yao still flinched and squeezed his eyes shut.

—That face was just too hard for him to look at straight on.

Le Wuya caught his weird look and touched his own face: "What? Got flowers growing on my face?"

With Zong Yao, Le Wuya was nothing but open and unguarded.

Zong Yao obviously couldn't say, "You look a lot like my family's enemy," so he swallowed his unease, put on a look of eager curiosity, and asked sincerely: "But from what I understand, these Japanese pirates sail over from across the sea. How can they raid and plunder our Dayu territory like it's wide open?"

Mu Jiazhi gave a bitter smile.

Assistant Prefect Wei was a pain in the neck, but dealing with a naive civil official like Assistant Prefect Zong was enough to give anyone a headache.

He was about to explain when he heard footsteps outside—one heavy, one light.

Le Wuya knew who it was from the footsteps alone and set his cup down ahead of time.

The next second, Qin Xingyue burst in, slamming the door open with a bang that made Mu Jiazhi and Zong Yao both jump, splashing hot tea all over their robes and sleeves.

Qin Xingyue, all military bearing, gave the other two a quick salute, then turned to Le Wuya and said crisply: "Your Honor! Urgent dispatch from Sanjiang Prefecture—a small band of Japanese pirates hit Mixi County last night!"

Le Wuya shot to his feet, his lazy, languid air vanishing in an instant. His eyes, which had seemed like flowing spring water, suddenly hardened into sharp blades, blazing with keen light: "How many of them?"

"Seventy or so." Qin Xingyue breathed out steam, his eyes just as bright.

Le Wuya: "Did we win?"

"We did." Qin Xingyue said briskly. "The centurion at Mixi, a guy named Ping Gen'er, saw the pirates using grappling hooks to climb the city wall and ran off in a panic, dragging the whole county garrison with him. Things were about to go south when a regular soldier named Zhang Feng stepped up. With a few of his loyal brothers, he held off more than thirty men, fought from alleys and defensive spots, and killed over a dozen pirates. Those bastards, having failed their attack and not knowing Mixi's streets, didn't dare push it—they ran off, leaving their dead behind."

He paused, then added: "Zhang Feng's—"

Le Wuya knew the name well and cut in: "One of the first batch of garrison soldiers we sent back from here, right?"

Qin Xingyue snapped to attention: "Yes!"

Le Wuya burst out laughing, grabbed the red fox-fur robe, and swung it over his shoulders in one smooth move, beaming: "Excellent!"

He hurried out a few steps, then turned back and reached a hand out to Zong Yao, who was still stunned: "Old Mu holds the fort! Assistant Prefect Zong, come on—you've never seen Japanese pirates, right? Let me show you what they're like!"

Zong Yao's brows were knit tight, all delicate melancholy: "I'm not much of a rider..."

But after a moment's hesitation, as if he'd made up his mind, he stood up with resolve: "But since you, sir, invite me, I'll go and see—ah!!"

Le Wuya couldn't be bothered to hear him out. Grabbing his hand, he swept out like a blaze of fire, whisked away by the wind.