Chapter 243: Suspicion (2)

Chapter 243: Suspicion (2)

Le Wuya wasn't at all surprised to be attacked by the censors.

Come on—if he weren't envied, would he still be Le Wuya?

These past days, Qin Xingyue had scoured the capital in search of a suitable residence, running all over the city comparing prices until his good leg was about to give out too. Only then did he realize how exorbitant housing in the capital truly was—with his lord's salary, forget buying a house, even renting a decent courtyard would be more than he could cover.

The slightly cheaper options were either remote locations requiring him to get up half an hour earlier for morning court, or cramped, noisy alley-facing dwellings offering no peace whatsoever.

Qin Xingyue couldn't stand to see Le Wuya put out. He racked his brains and got Jiang He to help out, finally managing to find two or three courtyards that were just barely livable.

They were a bit small, but the price and location worked out.

Only...

"This one had a death in it, and there are rumors of haunting." Qin Xingyue pointed at the cheapest property, his voice not exactly brimming with confidence. "If you don't like it, my lord, we'll figure something else out..."

When he spread the floor plans out in front of Le Wuya, Qin Xingyue felt a little embarrassed.

In Nanting and in Tongzhou, the magistrate had lived in spacious places with courtyards, flowers, and water. But here in the capital, there wasn't even a roomy courtyard where you could put up a swing.

To his surprise, Le Wuya merely glanced at the diagrams without even a frown, sounding quite cheerful: "The layout's not bad."

As he spoke, Wang Cheng and Qin Xingyue sat before him, with Jiang He tagging along uninvited.

Qin Xingyue was stumped: "Well, there's a swing in the yard, but other than that, it's bare—we'd have to furnish everything from scratch, and that's more money."

Wang Cheng said plainly: "If you believe it, it's real; if you don't, it isn't. Since my lord has no such qualms, I'll go to the City God Temple and get some protective talismans to hang up—it'll at least put the minds of the wives of the He and Yang families at ease. I've already made a list of what's missing; once you've seen the place and decide you like it, we'll get the essentials first and add the rest bit by bit."

Jiang He said, deadpan: "I hear it's really cursed—haunted by a fox spirit."

Le Wuya looked at the three of them and laughed from the bottom of his heart.

Three young men, each with their own personality and strengths, sitting in a row—a real pleasure to see.

Le Wuya casually draped an arm around Jiang He's shoulders and said approvingly: "My Wang Chao and Ma Han, Zhang Long and Zhao Hu—finally all here."

Wang Cheng knew what he meant but found his enthusiasm a bit much.

...Anyway, Lord Zheng wasn't like this.

He just hung his head and took the praise without a fuss.

Qin Xingyue didn't know much about poetry or books, but he loved listening to storytellers. The moment he heard "Wang Chao and Ma Han," he knew they were Judge Bao's four right-hand men and puffed out his chest proudly.

Only Jiang He piped up: "That's four people—still one short."

Le Wuya lowered his eyes, pushing the image of Qiu Sinian out of his mind.

He chuckled: "What about He Qingsong and Yang Zheng?"

Jiang He: "Then that's five."

"In that case..." Le Wuya joked, "I'll go find one more to round it out?"

Jiang He thought for a moment.

Qin Xingyue had always been by his side, like a pair of stars flanking the young general—Jiang He wouldn't be jealous of him.

As for Wang Cheng, even though he'd come along later, Lord Wenren trusted him, and he'd even bought Jiang He a drink—a good guy.

But if too many close subordinates crowded around, Jiang He would get upset too.

He put on a serious face and said: "Then the five of us can squeeze in and make do with four."

Le Wuya burst out laughing and reached to pull Jiang He's head onto his shoulder—but stopped halfway and ruffled his hair instead.

While Jiang He stepped aside to fix his hair, Le Wuya said: "Don't worry about the house anymore."

Three faces turned to him in unison.

He pushed the three floor plans across the table: "With all this fuss over house-hunting, you've probably already caught someone's eye."

"Whatever I'm missing, someone will fall over themselves to provide."

Jiang He blurted out: "But the Sixth Prince is strapped for cash himself."

"Why would I take advantage of him?" Le Wuya said. "If I'm going to take advantage of anyone, it should be the most exalted person in the land."

Sure enough, the very next day, a palace attendant showed up with an imperially gifted white jade belt.

The next day, the Emperor issued another decree, granting him a ten-acre estate in the eastern section of Taiping Granary to live in.

...That day in Zhaoming Hall, the Emperor had accidentally knocked over the imperial seal, and Le Wuya had bailed him out while looking like the very picture of a loyal, upright minister.

And what suits a loyal, upright minister? Naturally, a wise and virtuous ruler.

Wasn't the Emperor so keen on keeping an eye on him?

Well, he just so happened to need a place to live right now.

All he had to do was wait for the Son of Heaven to "look after his ministers."

So this gift didn't surprise Le Wuya at all—he just had to put on a look of flustered gratitude and humble respect, and thank the Emperor.

Getting a ten-acre mansion just for saying thank you—only an idiot would pass up a deal like that.

...

Memorials from the three detachments of the Changmen Guard were stacked neatly on Xiang Zheng's desk.

The detachment sent to Nanting had turned in reports that were nothing but praise.

It wasn't that they were trying to suck up—honestly, they had nothing bad to report.

From Sun Ru, the current magistrate of Nanting, down to the street vendors selling chili sauce, there wasn't a single person in Nanting County who didn't sing Magistrate Wenren's praises.

When Sun Ru learned that Wenren Yue had been promoted three times in three years, he was stunned for a moment, then sighed that while others rose like kites riding the wind, Magistrate Wenren's rise was like bamboo shoots after spring rain—roots deep, growth fast.

If Le Wuya had seen Sun Ru's face when he said that, he might have been a little taken aback.

Though Sun Ru had flattered him plenty of times before, both openly and behind his back, this particular compliment came from the heart.

The reason was simple.

The longer Sun Ru served as magistrate, the more he was in awe of Wenren Yue's brilliance.

Building roads, piping in water, bringing in merchants, planting camellias, running coal mines for the government...

Seemingly ordinary measures, over the years, clicked together like a chain of interlocking mechanisms, each link pushing Nanting step by step down the road to prosperity.

As for Lord Wenren's appearance, the folk of Nanting were unanimous on this point.

They insisted that ever since he arrived in Nanting, he'd been dashing and full of vigor. Though he was little known for the first half year, he must have been quietly scheming all along, biding his time to explode onto the scene.

No one remembered the sorry excuse for a magistrate who'd been slighted by the Yamen Clerk and couldn't even get a horse to move.

In the memory of Nanting's folk, "Wenren Yue" was forever that dashing figure, all smiles and swagger, the picture of easy charm.

The team sent to Tongzhou came back with even less to show for it.

"With Lord Wenren's bearing, how could anyone misremember him?" the merchant asked, looking baffled. "This spring he came to inspect the docks and even boarded my ship to check the goods. The sheer force of his presence..."

The records from this Changmen Guard team were filled with such useless testimony, completely useless as far as evidence went.

The team that went to Wenren Yue's old home in Jiangnan finally sniffed out something off.

The neighbors familiar with Wenren Yue all said that before entering officialdom, he'd been a mild, bookish sort, holed up with his books day in and day out, hardly ever stepping out.

The Changmen Guards, as sharp as ever, immediately sensed that this description didn't match the Wenren Yue who ruled the political scene. They produced a secretly drawn portrait of Wenren Yue and asked Old Scholar Hu—who'd taught him poetry for over ten years—to take a look.

Old Scholar Hu tugged at his goatee, squinting at the portrait for a good long while, and said, "Shou Yue's a different man—brimming with energy, like he's been reborn."

Hearing that, the guards perked right up and asked, "So his looks have changed?"

Old Scholar Hu gave them a rather puzzled look: "What do you mean by that, sir? An official's supposed to shed his old skin and be reborn. I taught him for over ten years—how could I not recognize him?"

The guards weren't about to give up, so they went to grill Wen Renxiong's neighbors, even tracking down his business rivals to pump them for info.

But they were in for a letdown.

Every answer they got was a dead end.

If Le Wuya had known that the Changmen Guards had made such a grand trip to Jiangnan only to come back with such foolish answers, he'd have thrown his hands up and sighed, "Kids these days."

People like Old Scholar Hu, basking in the glow of their student's rise, naturally only had good things to say.

As for Wen Renxiong's rivals, they couldn't figure out what the guards were really after.

The face in the portrait still looked something like the old days. Sure, the features had shifted a bit, but portraits never quite match the real thing, and with the added weight of his official status, who'd have the guts to point at this hotshot official and say he's a fake?

Their beef with the Wenren family was just business—why would they make an enemy for life?

...

Xiang Zheng reviewed the secret memorials laid before him, his face dark and impossible to read: "Reborn anew... A fine 'reborn anew.'"

Qiu Sinian stood below, looking even grimmer than Xiang Zheng.

Xiang Zheng asked again: "That's all?"

Qiu Sinian glanced over, and the "tongue" beside him answered for him: "Your Majesty, we did turn up one odd detail down in Jiangnan—"

That was the color of Wenren Yue's eyes.

Indeed, some clueless, honest soul, upon seeing the portrait, had exclaimed in surprise: "Oh, the Wenren kid's eyes don't look like that at all."

But when they pressed for details, it all went to hell.

Some said dark gray, some said black, and others swore they were purple, just a dark shade, easy to miss.

After getting seven or eight different answers, the guards threw in the towel, not even daring to put it in the report, scared of blabbing and ticking off the emperor.

Xiang Zheng acknowledged with an "Mm," then asked, "So what's Wenren Yue been up to lately?"

Qiu Sinian made a gesture, and the "tongue" beside him spoke again: "Your Majesty, all is normal, nothing out of the ordinary."

"He hasn't visited Xiaoliu or Xiaoqi?"

"The Censor-in-Chief hasn't gone to visit the two princes himself," the "tongue" replied. "However, Jiang He, the Guard Captain of the Sixth Prince's estate, has been in close contact with Qin Xingyue, one of Censor Wenren's subordinates, about scouting out a house for Censor Wenren in the capital. Once Your Majesty handed over the mansion, they cut ties."

"...Jiang He? Qin Xingyue?"

The "tongue" answered: "Both served under the Tianlang Camp."

Xiang Zheng laughed softly: "Interesting—they've all flocked to his side."

With that, he looked up at Qiu Sinian.

"Qiu Sinian, have you also been looking for your old master's shadow in him?"

That, the "tongue" couldn't answer for him.

Qiu Sinian knelt down, pulled out his writing paper and brush, and wrote a passage.

As he wrote furiously, that flippant voice rang in his ears: "Grip the brush higher!"

Qiu Sinian didn't let it rattle him—he straightened up a bit and kept writing fast.

The voice wouldn't leave him alone, whispering right by his ear: "Say what pleases people. Going against your conscience? Who cares? Your life's what matters. Don't you get it? You've eaten so much of my family's rice—if you croaked, I'd be devastated."

Qiu Sinian finished the last stroke and respectfully showed what he'd written to the emperor:

"Your subject's only master is Your Majesty, and no one else."

Xiang Zheng finally cracked a smile.

His fingers drifted over the three secret memorials.

What was on his mind wasn't "revenge" or "conspiracy" anymore.

If Le Wuya had really come back from the dead, he'd feel shock and fury—but mostly, joy.

Coming back from the dead, moving your soul into another body, trading up for a younger one...

Who in this world, at the very top of the food chain, could resist that?

Author's note:

Some remember the real Magistrate Wenren. Some don't.