Chapter 195 Welcoming the New Year (Part 2)

Chapter 195 Welcoming the New Year (Part 2)

Right after New Year's Day, everyone eagerly awaited the Lantern Festival, which had been banned for ten years and was now finally allowed again.

The closer the festival drew, the more visitors flooded into Tongzhou.

Even the brand-new inns were packed to the rafters.

By the fifth of the new year, the garrison soldiers' brand-new armor had all arrived.

Now, decked out in full armor, they gleamed with a cold shine and looked mighty impressive.

"Good steel's for the blade," Le Wuya said, sitting cross-legged up on the roof, looking over the young, fiery-eyed troops below. "You're all my blades. You know where the edge should point?"

The men below shouted back as one: "We know!"

Le Wuya: "And how do you treat the common folk?"

The shouts below rattled the sky: "Don't bother the folks, don't take their stuff, don't eye their women, don't trample their crops!"

Le Wuya waved a hand: "Alright, let's go!"

When the folks of Tongzhou saw squads of fully armored soldiers suddenly show up, patrolling in formation, their first instinct was panic.

Before the festival, the yamen had rounded up the city's beggars, had them tap their bowls and sing beggar songs to spread the word that garrison soldiers would be patrolling the streets. The folks got a kick out of it at the time. But when they actually saw the soldiers, they couldn't help but get a chill down their spine and their hair standing on end.

Wherever the garrison soldiers went, shopkeepers along the street wished they could duck their heads into their padded coats, too scared to even hawk their goods.

The timid ones just ran home, bolted the doors, and only dared to peek out through the window cracks.

The reason for the panic was dead simple.

The common folks rarely ever saw soldiers in their day-to-day lives.

Because the soldiers were usually out in the fields plowing, faces to the dirt and backs to the sky, just like any farmer.

If they ever did see soldiers, they were usually stragglers from a lost battle.

And that meant big trouble for the common folks.

As the saying goes, stragglers are worse than thieves, and routed troops are worse than robbers. With swords and spears in hand, they'd grab whatever grain they saw and snatch up any women they came across.

How could folks not be scared stiff?

But to everyone's surprise, those soldiers were super disciplined. They patrolled the whole city in two columns, hitting the main streets and back alleys. They caught two pickpockets, grabbed one thug who'd gone to a small inn to shake down free meals, and rounded up three unlicensed beggars—all of them sent back to the yamen for questioning.

Other than that, they didn't bother the folks one bit.

The townsfolk, like a bunch of scared moles, watched cautiously for a few days and saw that the soldiers didn't come knocking on their doors demanding "head money" or "celebration fees" like the gentry and village heads did, and they didn't mooch free meals in the name of official business either.

Even when they took a break, they never went into shops. They'd just find a spot out of the wind, pull out the little folding stools they carried, and sit down to rest.

On the eighth, a light snow fell, the roads got slick, and the temperature took a nosedive.

An old tea seller by the roadside saw these young fellas huddled together, shivering as they chewed on cold steamed buns. His heart went soft, and he worked up the nerve to call out quietly: "Soldiers... soldiers?"

Eight young faces all turned toward him at once.

The old tea seller saw they were about the same age as his own grandsons, and his heart softened even more. He brought over a few rough ceramic bowls and a pot of hot water: "It's cold out—how about some hot water to warm your bones?"

The soldier heading the group was none other than Lu Ming.

In just half a year, he was a completely different man, his old hot-headed ways gone without a trace.

He went "oh" and asked the others: "Y'all got any money?"

They scraped together five coppers and handed them to the old tea seller.

The old tea seller hadn't expected to see a single coin back. He was stunned for a second, then pushed the coins away: "No, no, no—it's on the house."

Lu Ming insisted: "The magistrate told us, for every bowl of hot water we drink, we pay for a bowl of hot water."

The old man scratched his head: "But, but... the magistrate's in the yamen. He can't see this."

One of the baby-faced soldiers cut in, his voice brimming with pride: "The magistrate said if the common folks give us something—anything at all—and we take it, we've set a bad example. If we dare take hot water today, tomorrow we'll dare take rice and flour, and the day after that we'll dare take gold ingots!"

Then, grinning ear to ear, he added: "The magistrate said someone's watching us, and he knows everything—"

Lu Ming kicked the leg of his stool to shut him up.

Then he gave the old man a polite smile: "Grandpa, five bowls of hot water. Much obliged."

Le Wuya had indeed sent another crew out in plain clothes to patrol the streets, both to sniff out any wrongdoing from the shadows and to keep an eye on them.

But keeping them from bothering the folks wasn't all that hard.

Le Wuya had given them food, clothes, a place to stay, respect, and honor—just about everything they'd never had in their whole lives.

Everything in front of them now was just too good to be true.

Once you've gotten used to standing tall, who'd ever want to bow down again?

Word spread like wildfire.

By the tenth, folks weren't scared of the patrolling soldiers anymore.

The more they turned down small favors, the more eager the townsfolk got.

Whenever they walked by, folks would eagerly shove steamed buns and snacks into their hands, hoping they'd keep an eye on their stalls.

But every group either politely said no or bought the stuff outright—not one dared to take a bribe and risk losing their spot as a garrison soldier.

It wasn't just the folks of Tongzhou; even those who'd come from far away to see the Lantern Festival marveled at the sight, unable to wrap their heads around how there could be soldiers in this world who didn't covet or take anything.

After mulling it over, they could only conclude with genuine admiration: the prefect really knew his stuff.

...

Maybe it was because the new year brought so many happy events, but on the twelfth, bright and early, Hua Rong burst into Le Wuya's courtyard, laughing and shouting: "Magistrate, Magistrate! Great news!"

Le Wuya was squatting by the edge of the yard brushing his teeth. Hearing the news, he spat out the green salt right away: "Did the tabby cat in the east courtyard have her kittens!?"

Mu Jiazhi hurried in behind Hua Rong, gave a quick bow, and reported in short: "Magistrate, what are you talking about? Japanese pirates tried to climb the city wall in the dead of night and got caught by the garrison soldiers on night watch!"

Le Wuya squatted back down, looking disappointed, and took a sip of warm water: "Oh."

Mu Jiazhi was briefly speechless seeing him more worried about a cat having kittens: "Seven killed, three taken alive."

Le Wuya said offhandedly: "Oh, a few made it, huh."

Mu Jiazhi hadn't expected these lads to be so impressive either, and his usually stern tone carried a hint of barely concealed delight: "Most of these men are local bandits using old tricks—climbing the walls with grappling hooks under cover of night. They carried short blades, fire oil, and flint, clearly intending to kill a few soldiers, set a blaze at the city gate, and cause enough chaos to ruin our New Year."

Le Wuya nodded.

He had anticipated this.

The mastermind behind these Japanese pirate thugs, for the sake of business, wouldn't resort to major acts like raiding and burning down Mixi, but minor shows of force and harassment were still necessary.

Keeping the populace on edge made it easier to exploit them, forcing them to willingly pay various protection fees to the local gentry.

Commerce and extortion—both had to be pursued with equal vigor.

But this time, they had bitten off more than they could chew.

"They'd barely started climbing when those young night watchmen spotted them."

At this, Mu Jiazhi deliberately glanced at Le Wuya, his voice carrying an indescribable mix of satisfaction and admiration: "...They let the bandits climb closer, boiled two large cauldrons of water meant for warmth, and when they got near, poured every last drop over their heads."

Only then did Le Wuya smile: "Attaboys."

Every month, when he assessed the garrison soldiers, one fixed exercise was to have one squad play the bandits and another play his own side, then drill them on city defense, mountain assaults, and street fighting—switching roles and using any means necessary.

Winners stayed; losers left.

Such surprise drills were common in daily routine.

The garrison soldiers who remained had already endured at least seven or eight rounds of practical training—they were hardened veterans.

Had time allowed, they might have come up with even filthier tricks like scalding sewage.

Le Wuya stood up: "Bury the dead and store them in the public mortuary. For the three alive—dress their wounds, put them in three cages on carts, drape the cages in red, and shackle them at the city gate. Let them be our welcome party."

Mu Jiazhi was taken aback by this unconventional punishment: "...Huh?"

"What a blessing for the New Year—shouldn't everyone share in the joy? Dress them warmly. They're my lucky charms—don't let them freeze to death." Le Wuya paused, then added, "Shackles... make it twenty pounds. Don't let them get too comfy. Liang Xian, fire off a report to Governor Ling to claim credit. For those who joined the night raid, grant each family three fen of land—a small plot. Don't bother thanking me—I know they're over the moon. Just send them to Yang Zheng to pick up their land. And leave me alone."

Having wrapped up the big stuff, Le Wuya turned to Hua Rong: "And keep tabs on that cat for me. I've been eyeing it for a while, and with the cold weather, this time I'm taking it home, no messing around."

Hua Rong replied with a smile: "Yes!"

Mu Jiazhi looked at the spirited Le Wuya, thinking with a hint of emotion:

No matter why the emperor had originally transferred Wen Ren Mingke to Tongzhou, or what his intentions were, it was a real godsend for Tongzhou's folks.

As Mu Jiazhi left, tasked and thoughtful, Wen Ren Yue hurried over, looking a bit nervous: "Brother Gu, you... are you busy?"

Le Wuya, used to seeing him so cool and collected, got a kick out of seeing him flustered and grinned as he teased him: "Busy, busy! Are you? If not, come with me to catch that cat!"

"Actually, I need to meet someone." Wen Ren Yue gave an awkward laugh. "I... my dad's on his way."

Le Wuya: "...Wait, who?"

Le Wuya: "Oh, so that's my dad."

Wen Ren Yue got a laugh out of his easy, goofy tone.

He handed over a letter: "It was sent before the New Year, but it got lost and was held up for ten days or so."

Le Wuya opened the letter and read it carefully.

Wen Renxiong wrote that he had been busy with family business before the New Year and didn't want to bother him, so he would set out from home on the tenth, planning to have a simple meal with him—a little family get-together.

He'd head off right after, no fuss.

Le Wuya let out a "Oh?" and said: "Setting out on the tenth, by the travel time, he'd arrive on the thirteenth or fourteenth?"

Wen Ren Yue was uneasy about this.

When he had met his father earlier, he had repeatedly reassured him that Prefect Wenren was newly arrived in Tongzhou and too busy to meet, but his father couldn't resist the longing and insisted on coming.

If his dad saw Le Wuya, so unlike his old self, what would he think?

To his surprise, Le Wuya was quite carefree about it. He tucked the letter back into Wen Ren Yue's arms and said cheerfully: "Let him come! Let the old man see the liveliness of our Tongzhou!"

Seeing that Wen Ren Yue's brows still betrayed hesitation, Le Wuya patted his shoulder and smiled: "Don't worry. Other people's sons—I'm the best at playing that role!"