Chapter 217: The Wind Rises (V)

Chapter 217: The Wind Rises (V)

If Zhang Kai had known that the gentry of Tongzhou were beginning to speculate about him in such a manner, he would have wanted to have a rendition of "The Injustice to Dou E" (a classic opera) played for him.

Was it that he didn't want to act? No—he didn't dare to act!

The Zhang family had once been well-off in their ancestors' day.

Grand Secretary Zhang Xie had lived a life of glory, serving the state faithfully, and after retiring to a life of seclusion, he never failed to support his descendants.

His two sons, Zhang Qiao and Zhang Yue, whom he had poured his heart into raising, both entered government service in their prime, and went on to amass vast lands and grand estates for their descendants. As a forefather, he'd done just about everything right.

The only blemish was that Zhang Xie wasn't blessed with many children. After a lifetime of striving, he'd only managed two sons.

The eldest son, Zhang Qiao, had an incredibly promising future ahead of him. Soon after passing the imperial exams, he was given an important mission, accompanying an imperial envoy to the flood-ravaged Huangfan region to hand out relief. But fate was cruel—shortly after arriving, he was struck down by a vicious plague and died.

This meant that Zhang Yue, who held the secure government post of Minister of the Imperial Ancestral Temple, was the Zhang family's last remaining hope.

Back then, Zhang Kai had been complacent, basking in his good fortune, smugly figuring that even though his grandfather had few offspring, with fewer uncles and aunts around to split the inheritance, his branch's share would be enough for him to coast on his family's achievements as an idle rich man, living off the family name for three lifetimes without lifting a finger.

But ever since Prefect Wen Ren had shown up at his door, Zhang Kai's peace of mind had been blown to bits.

After crunching the numbers, he was horrified to realize that if his uncle were to fall from power, he'd instantly become a helpless fat sheep waiting to be fleeced.

At that rate, he might not even hold on to his hefty family fortune!

So he went quiet and kept his head down, spending his days with his ears perked, waiting for his uncle to wrap up the loose ends of that messy old business before he made his move.

Unfortunately, after a stretch of close correspondence with his uncle, no more news came from the capital.

Zhang Kai waited and watched, but nothing came of it. He could only drown his sorrows by carousing with opera performers while nervously waiting for news.

During this time, his ears were full of talk about the Prefect's bandit-suppression campaigns all over the region.

This inevitably made him wonder if he'd walked into some kind of trap.

Yet his men—Master Xi and the rest of the so-called "Japanese pirates"—had come through this sweeping purge completely unscathed.

Whether Prefect Wen Ren Ming Ke was deliberately doing him a favor by letting his people off the hook, or had purposely spared them to stir up trouble between him and the other gentry, was anyone's guess—but the faint hints in all this were enough to send a chill down Zhang Kai's spine.

And with good reason.

The pirate gangs were deeply tangled up with one another, mostly impossible to tell apart.

Just how powerful was Wen Ren Ming Ke's intelligence network, that he could so precisely pick out Master Xi from the rest of the bandits?

...Zhang Kai didn't dare think any deeper.

Once he figured that out, he was even more scared to openly defy the Prefect. He just shut his gates, pretending to live a life of drunken revelry, spending his days calling in opera troupes to perform. It was only through all this coming and going that he dared to send out messages, telling Master Xi and his men to stay out of trouble during this unusual stretch, while quietly rounding up the scattered bandits on the run to use for his own ends.

The situation in the capital was murky, and it weighed on his mind.

He needed to be ready for either outcome.

...

In the capital that Zhang Kai yearned for day and night, within the Zhaoming Hall, Xiang Zhiyun was blindsided by a sudden piece of news, stammering, "Father?..."

Xiang Zheng, flipping through the case files on his desk, said calmly, "Xiaoliu will preside over this case. Do you have any objections?"

Before Xiang Zhiyun could get a word out, Xiang Zhijie beside him said gently, "Thank you for your trust, Father. But the Ministry of Justice has always been Fifth Brother's domain. Since Zhijie isn't well-versed in administrative matters, the case would likely drag on. Could we still have Fifth Brother take the lead? Zhijie can help on the side."

He said this with great sincerity, taking all the blame on himself—reasonable and considerate.

But Xiang Zheng didn't even look up. "Just go do it. I'd like to see who dares defy an imperial order and drag this case out."

Those words made Xiang Zhiyun's knees buckle.

Xiang Zhijie looked resigned, bowing respectfully. "Yes. Zhijie accepts the order."

"Go get to work," Xiang Zheng said. "Xiao Wu, stay."

After Xiang Zhijie withdrew, Xiang Zheng set down the memorial and looked down at Xiang Zhiyun from his elevated position. "Do you know why I didn't put you in charge of this case?"

Xiang Zhiyun gritted his teeth. "Because your son... has let you down!"

He didn't dare say too much or be too blunt.

"Letting him down" could mean he wasn't capable, or it could mean he shouldn't have aired this case in public.

He wanted to feel out his father's stance first.

But Xiang Zheng said nothing.

He stood like a cold, towering mountain, silently staring at his son—a man nearing thirty, yet still shaking like a guilty kid.

He gave no reply, just watched Xiang Zhiyun, clearly unhappy with his answer, waiting for him to try again.

Under that deep, bottomless stare, Xiang Zhiyun felt like needles were pricking him all over—scared, but also bitter.

He knew he'd let personal motives creep into this, so his father's anger was only to be expected.

But if we're talking about bad intentions, why did his father hand the job to Xiaoliu?

Was he any better?

As far as Xiang Zhiyun knew, Minister Geng, after getting word from Vice Minister Yu and fearing he'd be dragged into trouble, had rushed to tip off Zhang Yue, telling him to cover his tracks fast to avoid stirring up trouble during the crucial imperial exams.

On getting the warning, Zhang Yue panicked like crazy. He frantically sent his people out to cover their tracks, sending men to Xuan County in Huangzhou to check things out. If needed, the best move was to have Han Meng die in Xuan County prison under a fake name, leaving no witnesses. Meanwhile, he sent his steward to the Fujin Pawnshop to pick up the five stored scrolls of calligraphy and painting.

He was way too busy to send anyone to update his nephew in far-off Tongzhou.

Zhang Yue had even set up a charcoal brazier at home, ready to burn the paintings to ash the second the steward got back, leaving no proof.

But instead of the steward, he got the gut-punch news that the paintings had been snatched.

Honestly, if Zhang Yue had used that good charcoal brazier to off himself right then, it would've been cleaner.

Since Xiaoliu had grabbed the paintings, he and Zhang Yue definitely weren't on the same team.

Pan Yang figured Xiaoliu might have snatched the paintings out of spite after failing to win Zhang Yue over.

But Xiang Zhiyun's thinking went deeper, though he couldn't say it out loud, since it touched on imperial family secrets.

Grand Secretary Zhang Xie had two sons. Zhang Yue was the younger, and his older brother Zhang Qiao had died young, leaving just one son.

This lone surviving heir of the Zhang family's eldest branch was now living the easy life in Tongzhou, a wealthy local big shot.

Since the gentry were so powerful, they were bound to overshadow the local officials.

So, who is the current Prefect of Tongzhou?

At that thought, Xiang Zhiyun's mind cleared:

The Prefect of Tongzhou is Wen Ren Ming Ke, whom Xiaoliu and Xiaoqi had groomed and promoted!

He's the second-fastest riser in this dynasty, right after that traitor Le Wuya!

Could it be that Xiaoliu, in order to support this man, took a gamble to bring down Zhang Yue?

The more Xiang Zhiyun thought about it, the colder his spine got, but the more he mulled it over, the less it added up:

Isn't that completely backwards?

Xiaoliu, risking the crime of rebellion, sent people to seize the paintings during the imperial examination in the capital, toppling a third-rank official who was neither here nor there to him, all just to help a fifth-rank official cut off a local bigwig's connections at court?

Is that possible?

Xiang Zhiyun was torn, his thoughts churning, unsure whether he should present his suspicion that "Xiaoliu is colluding with local officials" as the truth.

Seeing Xiang Zhiyun remain silent for a long time, head down, playing dead, Xiang Zheng's brow slowly knitted tighter.

Xiang Zhiyun knew he had to respond, so he mechanically trotted out the usual dodge: "Your son has failed Your Majesty. Your son confesses his guilt."

"Confess? I see you confess, but you never change." Xiang Zheng said coldly, "Xiaoliu's a few years younger than you, yet he understands responsibility and duty far better. At least he doesn't cower behind someone else and send a vice minister to fight his battles!"

Those stinging words made Xiang Zhiyun's ears ring, cold sweat pour out, and his anger flare up like oil hitting a hot pan.

Xiang Zheng continued, "Putting him in charge of this case is both a chance for him to learn and a warning to you. If you keep slacking off like this, I won't hesitate to find someone else to do your job!"

Xiang Zhiyun's face turned pale.

He knew he couldn't afford to keep being soft-hearted. He gritted his teeth and said, "Your Majesty, allow me to report! Yu Xiuqun, out of loyalty, couldn't stand by while Your Majesty was deceived by treacherous officials, so he brought this secret to me. I meant to report it to Your Majesty in private and handle it step by step, so as not to tip anyone off. But while digging into it, I found out that the man who snatched Zhang Yue's hidden paintings on the street was none other than Guard Jiang from the Sixth Prince's estate! I was alarmed and unsure what the Sixth Prince was up to, afraid he might do something reckless and lose his way. That's why I let Vice Minister Yu speak up in court and ask for a joint trial by the Three Judicial Offices to get to the bottom of it. My actions may have been rash, but they came purely from filial duty and brotherly love. I beg Your Majesty to see the truth!"

Xiang Zheng went still.

When no response came from above, Xiang Zhiyun ran through his speech again, satisfied it held up, until a low, slow question drifted down: "You've been spying on your brother's comings and goings?"

Xiang Zhiyun was dumbfounded.

He couldn't understand why his father wasn't asking about the stolen paintings first.

Why was his father reacting like this?

Before he could figure it out, Xiang Zheng's questions came at him like rapid fire: "You knew who the culprit was, and yet you never said a word to your brother. Not only did you let Yu Xiuqun openly impeach him in court, but you came running to me to tattle! What are you after? Do you want me to ignore Zhang Yue and go after Xiaoliu first? Do you want the whole world to laugh at us and drag the royal family through the mud?"

Xiang Zhiyun was horrified: "No, no, Your Majesty! I would never—! I only wanted to use the Three Judicial Offices to rein in the Sixth Prince before it was too late. I had no other agenda, and I'd never dare tarnish the royal dignity!"

"Fine. A fine son, a fine elder brother." Xiang Zheng's words sliced like blades, "Everyone else shields their own flesh and blood, but you're the only one who'd turn in his own brother! And you still have the nerve to talk about loyalty and filial duty?"

Xiang Zhiyun was struck dumb, his face turning purple: "Your son... Your son..."

Xiang Zheng cut him off with a rare, savage roar: "Get out!"

Xiang Zhiyun rose and floated out of the palace as if in a daze.

Out in the bright daylight, he realized he was soaked in sweat, dizzy and light-headed.

But he didn't even dare pass out, so he swallowed the blood rising in his throat, choked down a sob, and staggered on.

...

The capital and Tongzhou were both in an uproar.

But the mastermind was taking it easy, lounging in the backyard with Hua Rong, soaking up the sun.

Hua Rong was his trusted aide, a sharp, well-mannered young man, so Le Wuya would occasionally drop a bit of wisdom about Tongzhou affairs: "Tongzhou's full of gentry, but without pull in the official world or solid backing, they're just rootless duckweed. No matter how much money they've got, what's the point? Take Luan Yuqiao. He hitched himself to Zhang Kai, busted his back making money for him, all to stay in his good graces. But the moment Zhang Kai changed his tune and left him high and dry, wasn't he ruined and broke just like that?"

"I heard he had a bad illness, lost all his spirit, and went back to his hometown in Zhuzhou." Hua Rong was busy picking walnuts for him, giving him the whole ones and keeping the broken pieces for himself, his mind still working, "Sir, what do you think Zhang Kai is really after with all his scheming? As far as I know, among the dozen or so gentry in Tongzhou, the most powerful backing they have is a sixth or seventh-rank official. But Zhang Kai's uncle has reached the position of Minister of the Imperial Ancestral Temple. He could just live comfortably as a wealthy man. Why get involved with those Japanese pirates?"

Le Wuya chuckled: "If his uncle hadn't stirred up that big case in Huangzhou and risen from a sixth-rank Assistant Prefect to the capital, his life wouldn't be as comfortable as it is now."

Hua Rong nodded.

Understood.

This uncle and nephew were used to taking risks for gains.

Through constant exposure, it became habit, and so it came to this.

Le Wuya got up to grab a walnut, but as he bent over, his expression subtly changed, and he sank back into the recliner: "Hmm... ah."

Hua Rong was perceptive and immediately noticed something was off.

"Sir, what's wrong?" Hua Rong asked with concern, "Are you feeling unwell?"

Le Wuya pulled the blanket over his legs higher, appearing calm on the surface, but a faint blush crept across his cheeks: "It's nothing."

He wasn't a porcelain or wooden figure. With the recent big matters settled, occasional restlessness was only natural.

Even cats go into heat in spring.

Le Wuya dismissed Hua Rong, and once he was gone, slipped quietly into his room.

As Hua Rong walked away, he thought that the master seemed overly full of vitality, which wasn't good. He should get some herbs to cool the blood and nourish yin, take a few doses to regulate his system.

Lost in thought, he bumped into someone.

Recognizing the person, his eyes lit up, and he bowed in greeting, but the other steadied his arm.

Hua Rong was used to this person's sudden appearances and said joyfully, "Sixth Master! Greetings! Why are you here?"

Xiang Zhijie was in a good mood and said gently, "Where is Prefect Wenren? I have official business to discuss with him."

Hua Rong knew Le Wuya had close ties with these old acquaintances and was happy for them to keep the prefect company, but when it came to official matters, he had to be cautious: "Sixth Master, should I call Assistant Prefect Mu or Assistant Prefect Zong to join the discussion?"

Xiang Zhijie thought for a moment: "Please call Assistant Prefect Mu. Tell him that in a case I'm handling, the criminal had close contact with a local gentry, but all correspondence was destroyed. Only the travel records of the criminal's trusted aide leaving the capital for Tongzhou remain. So I'd like to check if there's any evidence of communication between the two here."

Hua Rong nodded: "Alright!"

Xiang Zhijie added: "Tell him to come in an hour."

Hua Rong blinked, beaming: "Got it!"

He ran off swiftly to deliver the message, leaving Xiang Zhijie alone.

Xiang Zhijie looked around, walked to a small clear pond in the courtyard, and examined his reflection, smoothing every wrinkle on his robe.

He looked down at the wooden coin with a crow holding a yuanbao hanging on his chest, adjusted it so it hung perfectly below the second jade button, not too flashy but just noticeable enough.

Then, taking a deep breath, he headed toward the backyard with a clear, warm smile.