Chapter 208: The Trap Is Sprung

Chapter 208: The Trap Is Sprung

Zheng Miao never trusted a single account.

After Xiaochun, the keeper of the Tongzhou government warehouse, stepped forward to accuse Le Wuya of embezzling public funds, Zheng Miao had him safely tucked away at the Provincial Surveillance Commission.

He'd lured Le Wuya there on official business as a pretext, intending to catch him off guard before he could catch wind of the accusation and destroy the evidence.

He sent Wang Cheng with Xiaochun and a team of constables, while he himself took a separate group, riding with Le Wuya to Tongzhou to verify the truth on-site.

Zheng Miao and Le Wuya shared a carriage, and along the way, Zheng Miao couldn't resist needling him: "Don't think I don't know you've got a whole network of informants in Tongzhou. Beggars, soldiers... you really don't turn anyone away."

Le Wuya: "Thanks, I'll take that as a compliment."

"...That wasn't a compliment."

"Spend a little, get a lot. If I butter up the gentry, they'll take my money smiling to my face, but behind my back, they'll call me a fool and a cuckold. With that money, I'd rather hire a hundred beggars to do my dirty work—at least they'll sing my praises with 'Long live the master.' When I die, the Judge of the Underworld will see all my good deeds and make sure I'm reborn as Lord Zheng's father. With a fine son like you, what more could a man want?"

Zheng Miao sat up straight, staring silently at the silver-tongued Le Wuya for a moment, then stood, grabbed him by the collar, threw open the curtain, and made to kick him out of the carriage.

Le Wuya, utterly shameless, hollered: "My lord, please control yourself! Don't rip my clothes—I'll take them off myself!!"

Zheng Miao: "..."

He yanked the curtain shut, shoved Le Wuya back into his seat, face red, and shot him a fierce glare.

Le Wuya straightened his collar and smiled at him: "Lord Zheng, it was a joke, just a joke. Stop glaring at me like that."

With that, he grabbed a tangerine from the carriage's fruit tray, peeled it with obsequious care, eyes bright as he watched Zheng Miao.

Faced with that face, Zheng Miao's heart unexpectedly softened.

He thought, this one is different from the last one.

Le Youque had a sharp tongue and a foul temper; even his occasional jokes hid a thousand schemes—a warm face, cold heart, sweet words, bitter intent.

But when it came to sheer nerve, this one was in a league of his own—unmatched, unrivaled.

When Zheng Miao snapped back to reality, he found Le Wuya already leaning against the warm brazier, happily popping tangerine slices into his mouth.

Zheng Miao: "..."

"Never said I was peeling it for you, my lord—figured you'd turn your nose up at it," Le Wuya said, pointing at the plate. "I saved one for you, though."

...He had, indeed, left one.

He'd taken the biggest, prettiest one for himself, leaving behind a rough, pockmarked little tangerine.

Zheng Miao picked up the fruit, turned his head away, and thought flatly, *Once I catch your fox tail, you're finished.*

Once in Tongzhou, Zheng Miao kept Le Wuya and Xiaochun apart, questioning each separately rather than rushing to a face-off.

Xiaochun, having spied deliberately, gave a full account of when and where Le Wuya opened the warehouse and moved the carts, including the names of the duty staff replaced that day—all with perfect clarity, answering every question without missing a beat.

Xiaochun said confidently: "I haven't told a single lie, my lord. Open the warehouse and check!"

On the other side, Le Wuya, as if just now piecing it all together from Zheng Miao's account, widened his innocent eyes and protested: "My lord, I'm truly wronged. That day I was just drilling the garrison troops, my heart completely devoted to Tongzhou. If any Tom, Dick, or Harry can point a finger at me for dipping into the public stores, I'd have no time for anything else—I'd just sit in the yamen waiting for someone to file a bogus complaint against me."

Zheng Miao: "..."

The words made sense, but if you could plead your innocence with a little less drama, you might sound more sincere.

He asked, with patience: "Who can vouch for this drill?"

"Qin Xingyue."

When Zheng Miao had Le Wuya's words passed to Xiaochun, the latter was undeterred, his fervor only growing: "That Qin Xingyue is Prefect Wenren's right-hand man—they speak with one tongue. How can his word be trusted?"

Wang Cheng, who'd been relaying the message, treated Xiaochun with calm neutrality, clearly a reliable, impartial party: "Do you have any other evidence that Prefect Wenren and County Princess Qi were in cahoots, rather than it being a garrison drill?"

Xiaochun said readily: "My eyes were glued to it! That cart went straight to County Princess Qi's cloth warehouse without making a single turn. I went to check—when the cart left, the ruts were deep, the road groaning under the weight; when it came back, everything was unloaded, and the ruts were barely there—obviously it was empty on the return trip!"

Wang Cheng, all business, recorded Xiaochun's testimony in the ledger, had him sign and fingerprint it, then told two constables to keep an eye on him before heading out.

Shortly after stepping out, he ran into Mu Jiazhi, who'd come over after hearing the news.

Thanks to Zheng Miao's airtight information lockdown, Mu Jiazhi had no clue what was going on, only that Zheng Miao had suddenly shown up at the Tongzhou government office.

Bewildered, he greeted: "Captain Wang, is something urgent going on?"

"Nothing—just a routine spot check of the warehouse," Wang Cheng said, deadpan.

Mu Jiazhi nodded, looking normal: "What a coincidence."

Wang Cheng: "How so?"

"Not long ago, the prefect changed the rules—the warehouse keys are now split between me, Wenzhi, and the prefect, one each. All three keys are needed to open it," Mu Jiazhi explained. "The prefect recently wanted to drill the garrison troops, saying that if a famine or war hit, we'd need to know how to get supplies out of the warehouse and set up porridge stations fast. After the three of us discussed it, we agreed it was worth a practice run. So, after checking with County Princess Qi, we borrowed one of her empty cloth warehouses as a practice relief site. Wenzhi and I went to the warehouse that day—the prefect ran the soldier drill, while Wenzhi and I checked the inventory against the records, item by item, with no discrepancies..."

As he talked, Mu Jiazhi noticed Wang Cheng had opened his ledger and was writing quickly, carefully recording every word.

"...Captain Wang?"

Wang Cheng looked up and asked point-blank: "Assistant Prefect Mu, what was in the five big carts hauled out of the warehouse?"

Mu Jiazhi: "...Mud and sand. To be precise, it was the pond sludge Hua Rong had dumped into the prefect's backyard well. After washing and sifting it clean, the prefect had it brought from his house, saying he'd store it for now and give it to County Princess Qi as flower fertilizer in the spring."

Wang Cheng: "..."

That same old pond sludge.

How did that sludge keep finding new uses?

Though his mind was buzzing with questions, it didn't stop Wang Cheng from faithfully recording the testimony.

"May I ask, Assistant Prefect Mu, where is the sludge stored now?"

"After being boxed and carted off, it was conveniently dropped at County Princess Qi's warehouse."

...How convenient.

After recording everything, Wang Cheng tucked the brush behind his ear, handed the ledger to Mu Jiazhi, and said: "Assistant Prefect Mu, please review it. If the testimony is accurate, sign and fingerprint it."

Mu Jiazhi: "...?"

...

After hearing Wang Cheng's report, Zheng Miao turned to see Le Wuya looking utterly unruffled, and he knew—this guy had gleefully dug a huge pit, just waiting for someone to fall in.

The first to fall in was Xiaochun.

Then, just like that, he'd gone and dragged himself into it too.

...Truly detestable.

Without another word, he marched Xiao Chun over to the treasury and demanded an on-the-spot inspection.

When he saw the warehouse full of untouched grey cloth, Xiao Chun, who had been both excited and anxious, had his eyes nearly bug out of his head.

It felt like a hornet's nest had just exploded inside his skull. His legs nearly buckled right then and there; only a thin sliver of desperate hope kept him from dropping to his knees.

Thankfully, his brain was quick. A few breaths later, he made one last desperate play: "My lord, this must have been replenished later! During this time, the price of grey cloth in Tongzhou has plummeted. The prefect must've snapped up cheap cloth, cracked the treasury back open, and patched up the shortfall!"

Mu Jiazhi shot back, all righteous fury: "Nonsense! You're just a two-bit clerk, and you dare accuse the lord? Bring some real proof! The treasury doors haven't been opened since that day—it's all written down in the ledgers. You think you can just sling mud and get away with it?!"

Le Wuya, on the other hand, couldn't be bothered to argue at all. He just lounged there with his arms crossed, watching Xiao Chun, who was cornered and flailing like a trapped rat, and said idly, "It was freezing that day. You were in that black quilted jacket, scurrying around, hopping all over the place—must've been exhausting."

Xiao Chun stood frozen in place, his chest feeling like a sledgehammer had just slammed into it, and he could no longer utter a single word.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped down, and his vision went blurry.

Wen Ren... had he been lurking in the shadows that day too, watching him?

The idea that some hidden pair of eyes had caught every eager trip he'd made, running back and forth with news, made goosebumps crawl all the way up his ass.

No matter how sharp he was, he couldn't string two words together anymore.

If the constables hadn't been holding him up, his noodle-legs would've given out ages ago.

...He had been set up!

This was a trap!

Zheng Miao wasn't the type to jump at every rumor.

The constables who'd gone to check Qi Hongzhuang's warehouse came back saying the big crates inside were packed to the brim with pond mud.

Zheng Miao checked the cloth on the spot and could tell from the material and color that these were old bolts—nowhere near newly woven.

Xiao Chun's last-ditch frame-up fell apart completely.

He'd tried to pull a fast one and ended up losing his own shirt, and now he was scared out of his mind. Just as the constables were about to drag him off, Le Wuya called out from behind to stop them, then pulled Zheng Miao aside and whispered in his ear, "Look, my lord, since this hasn't blown up and only a handful of us know about it, why not just keep it quiet for now?"

Zheng Miao: "What are you scheming now?"

Le Wuya smiled, "Dirty laundry shouldn't be aired in public. However, this man has falsely besmirched an official's reputation—truly detestable, and he must be punished. You can report what needs reporting; as for Xiao Chun, let him be held temporarily in Tongzhou. How about that? Rest assured, I'm the fairest guy around, and I'd never use my position to settle personal scores. When you later finalize the case and come to retrieve him, I guarantee he'll be intact."

Zheng Miao gazed at Le Wuya for a moment, then said, "Fine. But I want one honest answer from you."

"Ask away, my lord." Le Wuya said with utmost sincerity, "As for whether it's the truth, that depends on whether you choose to believe it."

"..." Zheng Miao was speechless for a long moment. "Xiao Chun said that County Princess Qi was short of grey cloth, and you, eager to profit, made a wrong move and secretly opened the treasury. But since you never lent her aid, how did County Princess Qi overcome her difficulty?"

Le Wuya shrugged nonchalantly: "The Xi family in Jiangnan—their cotton yarn is unmatched, and their daily output of grey cloth is far more than a hundred bolts."

"Lord Zheng, the Seventh Prince of the Xi family shares a sibling-like bond with County Princess Qi. In times of difficulty, a little help here and there perfectly embodies the virtue of weathering the storm together—truly a fine tale in the business world."

Zheng Miao: "..." That mouth of his.

He was eighty percent certain that Le Wuya's role between the Xi family and the Qi clan was far from the casual matter he made it out to be.

He pressed further, "Why do you want to detain Xiao Chun?"

"Naturally, I have my own plans." Le Wuya flashed a brilliant smile, unusually cheerful, yet the words he spoke sent chills down one's spine, "I want whoever's pulling the strings behind all this to toss and turn all night, unable to sleep. Fear breeds worry, worry breeds terror, and when terror hits its peak... what then? Lord Zheng, let us watch and see."