Chapter 316: Battle of Wits (11)

Chapter 316: Battle of Wits (11)

Zhi Jie knitted his brows, saying nothing.

Le Wuya knew what was worrying him.

The Zhou brothers' intentions were truly hard to fathom.

Zhou Wenchang had already firmly insisted that everything was the doing of Zhou Wenhuan, claiming that he himself had merely failed to discipline his younger brother properly.

If Le Wuya hadn't forced his hand, he'd have had no real reason to drag Wang Su into this.

As for Zhou Wenhuan, since he intended to shoulder everything for his elder brother, rashly dragging Wang Su into it would just bring trouble down on his own head.

After all, he'd never held a single official post—just a plain commoner. How would he even have a direct line to the Left Censor-in-Chief?

But both Zhou brothers had their own reasons for not wanting Wang Su to just sit back and watch from the sidelines.

Zhou Wenchang's life had been one hardship after another, all because of Wang Su.

If Wang Su hadn't set him up, he'd still be the darling of heaven.

Zhou Wenhuan adored his elder brother. Since he had already confessed to such a grave crime—with execution as the starting point for punishment—he might as well go all in, drag Wang Su down with him, and get some revenge for his brother.

But what Zhi Jie was worried about was the worst-case scenario.

"Master, these two hate you too," Zhi Jie said. "What if they use you to tip off Wang Su that the Dansui business is out in the open?"

Le Wuya lounged against his chest: "Then you think it's better not to send the letters?"

Zhi Jie felt like a perfectly contented fox, eyes squinting with pleasure, had curled up on him, and the tension in his chest inexplicably eased.

Logic told Zhi Jie he should stash both letters away and forget they ever existed.

Wang Su had sent Le Wuya here specifically to catch him red-handed.

Years ago, when Wang Su personally tried Le Wuya's case and pinned eighty-two major crimes on him, one of which was forging documents and stealing official seals.

In other words, he knew damn well Le Wuya was a master at forging handwriting.

Therefore, any letter from Dansui would naturally be met with extreme suspicion.

He'd definitely have his own way of verifying whether something was genuine.

Zhi Jie didn't dare pin his hopes on the Zhou brothers.

A hypocrite and a vicious wolf—how much of their word could you really trust?

But when he lowered his head and met Le Wuya's sparkling eyes, the words on his lips took an unexpected turn: "Master, let me write to Jiang He, asking him to search Wang Su's place for any letters the Zhou brothers might have kept, and check the position of the peach blossom seal. Comparing the two would be safer."

Le Wuya: "If you were Wang Su, would you hold onto letters from the Zhou brothers?"

Zhi Jie: "...True."

The Zhou brothers kept the letters so they wouldn't be cast aside once they'd outlived their usefulness.

And they were ninety-nine percent sure the letters they'd saved were in Wang Su's real handwriting.

But why would Wang Su keep letters from the Zhou brothers?

Was he afraid his life was too easy and wanted to make it harder for himself?

Since there were no letters to cross-check, were they stuck relying on those two's word?

What if it was all a trap?

What if...

Zhi Jie pushed down the pounding in his chest and made his voice as gentle as he could: "Even so, Master, you still want to try?"

"Yes." Le Wuya looked up at him. "For those three hundred people, I have to try."

"When they get to the underworld and face the Ten Kings of Hell, they should at least know who to point the finger at, right?"

"So what are Master's chances?"

Le Wuya thought for a long moment, then held up three fingers.

Zhi Jie grabbed his wrist, grip firm.

How was this any different from betting his life?

The thought that his master had come to him with those two letters, already set on this course, made his chest ache with a bitter, stabbing pain.

Still, he insisted on prying Le Wuya's fingers apart and bending the "three" into a "nine."

He forced a smile at Le Wuya: "Master, we've got to at least ask for a bit of good luck."

Le Wuya glanced at the bent index finger, and his eyes curved into a smile along with it. He reached out, hooked an arm around Zhi Jie's neck: "Honestly, I'm not confident either. I came to you to get some reassurance."

He brushed his lips against Zhi Jie's. "Come on, give me one."

Zhi Jie leaned down softly, pressing his lips to Le Wuya's.

Satisfied, Le Wuya jumped to his feet, tied his loose sash with a flourish, and announced, "I'm outta here!"

Outside the door, Ru Feng was carrying a basin of wash water, tiptoeing inside.

He'd planned to let the hot water cool a bit, then have Zhi Jie wash up once he woke. But when he pushed the door open and saw a living person standing by the Sixth Prince's bed, he nearly jumped out of his own skin.

Once he recognized who it was, he shot a quick glance behind him and kicked the door shut.

Seeing him glance around nervously, Le Wuya kept his head down, tying his belt: "Stop looking. I didn't come through the door—I climbed in through the window."

Ru Feng forced a smile onto his face: "Lord Wenren, you're here awfully early..."

The rooster hasn't even crowed yet!

Le Wuya shot him a glance: "I still have important business to attend to during the day, so I have to squeeze out time to properly keep your prince company."

Ru Feng: "..."

With work ethic like that, no wonder Lord Wenren was due for a promotion.

Seeing that Ru Feng had brought the water, Le Wuya tested the temperature, washed his hands in it, then returned to the bedside and said in farewell, "The big chess piece is off to gamble his luck. The little chess piece stays here and recovers properly, understand?"

Zhi Jie smiled faintly with pursed lips: "Wishing you good fortune."

As Le Wuya strode away, Zhi Jie beckoned Ru Feng over and used the leftover water from Le Wuya's washing to scrub himself down.

Ru Feng fiddled with his hair, looking worried: "How did you get your hair tied like this, my lord? It's not easy to undo."

"Don't undo it." Zhi Jie wiped his face with a towel, "If I keep it tied like this for a day, my hair will be curly just like his."

Ru Feng: "..." Fine, forget I said anything.

In front of Ru Feng, Zhi Jie carefully concealed his worries, not letting it show.

Not because he didn't trust Ru Feng, but because he had already clearly expressed his concerns and hopes in front of Le Wuya.

What he needed to do next was to stay calm and help steady Le Wuya's confidence.

Meanwhile, Le Wuya stepped outside, faced the dawn-tinged sky, and took a deep breath.

...He wasn't betting on luck.

That he had survived this long was partly due to luck, but relying solely on luck was never his style.

He looked down and kissed his right index finger.

If Zhi Jie wanted a ninety percent chance, then he'd give it his all to make it happen.

...

The county office was now sealed off by Le Wuya tight as a drum, yet he could move through it freely.

Zhou Wenchang and Zhou Wenhuan had no private residences, both living within the county office. Le Wuya found the four-petal peach blossom seals that had been mentioned, one in each of their studies.

But the seals themselves didn't interest him much.

Le Wuya's gaze fell on the ink paste.

He scooped out a bit, dissolved it in water, and studied it closely. He then fetched several types of ink paste commonly used in the office and compared them one by one.

Sure enough, this ink paste was unusual.

Not only was it a vivid red, far brighter than ordinary ink paste, but it also contained fine mica particles that shimmered faintly with a pearlescent sheen—only visible when held up to the light.

At this point, the claim that "letters to Wang Su had to be stamped with a seal to prevent forgery" was seventy percent credible.

This specially made ink paste was costly, and it wasn't new—it showed clear signs of use, partially dried out, evidently having been used recently as well.

Le Wuya pulled out recently approved official documents from Zhou Wenchang and compared them, finding none used this type of ink paste.

Having ruled out the possibility that no seal was needed, the only remaining question was: were they telling the truth?

The possibilities were simply these:

Zhou Wenchang told the truth, and Zhou Wenhuan lied.

Zhou Wenchang lied, and Zhou Wenhuan told the truth.

Both lied, united in their determination to bring Le Wuya down.

Both told the truth, brothers working together to make sure Wang Su came to a bad end.

...

Three days later.

Wang Su was, as usual, teasing a newly acquired red-breasted parrot under the eaves when his close attendant Bo Xin came to report: "My lord, a carrier pigeon has arrived."

Wang Su raised an eyebrow, clasped his hands behind his back, and strode out quickly.

Calculating the time, word should have arrived by now.

He headed toward a small pigeon loft in the back courtyard.

...

Three days before that.

Le Wuya sat at the desk in Zhou Wenchang's study, deep in thought.

First, he could be certain that Zhou Wenchang was extremely shrewd, while Zhou Wenhuan was driven by deep emotion.

The former appeared spineless but was in truth cold and heartless, acting solely from self-interest without a shred of genuine feeling.

The latter, though reckless and ruthless, was wholly devoted to his elder brother, willing to risk his own neck to take the fall for him.

Between these two men, who would lie?

...

The pigeon was greedily pecking away at the corn kernels.

The Wang household was always frugal, and even the pigeon feed was leftover grain from years past.

But the pigeon, having flown a long way, was starving and ate without lifting its head.

Wang Su removed the small bamboo tube from the pigeon's leg and opened it, finding a thin roll of rough paper inside.

He took the tube with him and went straight back to his room.

...

In front of Le Wuya lay two four-petal peach blossom seals and two letters.

The truth and falsehood of what was inside were truly hard to determine.

They might also have lied about where the seals were placed.

Le Wuya didn't know, but Wang Su would.

What if Zhou Wenchang's seal was supposed to be in the upper left corner, and Zhou Wenhuan's in the lower right?

What if both the upper left and lower right were decoys, and the real placement was in the center?

The possibilities were endless.

So, Le Wuya could only infer based on motives.

In the end, the distinction between truth and falsehood all stems from human hearts and self-interest.

...

Wang Su returned to his study and unrolled the letter.

It was written in Zhou Wenchang's handwriting.

The letter reads: "Wen Ren has arrived, gravely ill, and hasn't yet uncovered the truth. The Sixth Prince has also arrived. Whether to treat him or not, please advise at once."

Wang Su shifted his gaze to the lower right corner of the paper.

And there it was—a peach blossom seal.

Wang Su arched an eyebrow.

Then, he looked away.

Because that was exactly where a seal like that belonged.

...

To Le Wuya, Zhou Wenchang was actually easier to read than Zhou Wenhuan.

Everything he did was driven by self-interest.

So betraying Wang Su for his own sake was a no-brainer.

Because once he got out clean and became a commoner, Wang Su would have no qualms about silencing him.

For decades of peace ahead, his best bet was Wang Su dead.

So, after mulling it over, Le Wuya stamped the peach blossom seal on the lower right corner of Zhou Wenchang's letter.

...

As was his habit, Wang Su moved the lampshade aside, held the corner of the letter to the flame, and watched it curl, blacken, and crumble to ash.

The real question was: should he reply?

If Le Wuya really was sick, that would be a big deal.

As for the Dansui business, the lives of those three hundred miners, like the Zhou brothers, were all just bargaining chips for Wang Su.

The real crux of this game was to confirm whether Wen Renyue was actually Le Wuya.

If he really was sick, whether to save him or have him killed was worth serious thought.

Privately, Wang Su thought it would be best if Wen Renyue just died in Dansui.

But the emperor's intent was only to verify whether this man was Le Wuya—nothing was said about whether to kill him.

The emperor wasn't hard to read.

If Wen Renyue really was Le Wuya reborn—even if it defied all reason—it would prove reincarnation was possible.

Even if people shouted "long live the emperor" ten thousand times a day, he couldn't deny his body was failing.

To be reborn with all your memories into a fresh, young body in its prime—that kind of temptation would be hard for anyone to resist, let alone the emperor himself.

Who wouldn't want to extend their blessings and borrow years from heaven?

Even Wang Su might get a taste of that good fortune.

Wang Su rubbed his thinning hair and gave a wry smile.

If Wen Renyue just died like that, taking all the secrets with him, it'd be a real shame.

But what if... he wasn't sick?

What if Wen Renyue had already figured out this case, and this letter was a trap he'd set just to bait a reply?

When that thought crossed Wang Su's mind, he smiled and shook his head at first.

In Wang Su's eyes, the Zhou brothers weren't your typical good-for-nothings.

Surely Wen Renyue couldn't have gotten to Dansui and, in just three or four days, dug up everything that had happened there?

It'd take at least half a month or more before...

At that, Wang Su's smile slowly faded, and his brows knit tight.

...Hard to say.

The thing Wen Renyue shared most with Le Wuya was that almost eerie cleverness, which really defied logic.

Right now, there was no letter from Zhou Wenhuan to back up Zhou Wenchang's.

Unable to tell if the letter was real, Wang Su quietly decided:

Not to reply for now, and to wait and see what happened.

But just as Wang Su tossed the empty bamboo tube into the drawer, someone knocked on the study door.

Bo Xin's voice came again: "Sir, another pigeon's arrived."

...

Le Wuya held Zhou Wenhuan's letter, hesitating to stamp it.

A man driven by emotion was even harder to read than a pure egoist.

His love and hate burned like wildfire—bright and impossible to miss.

As someone who adored his brother, did he hate Wang Su more—the man who used them as pawns and threw them away—or this outsider who'd exposed their plan and wrecked their peaceful life?

That was worth thinking over carefully.

After all, during the prison visit, he'd only told Zhou Wenhuan that Wang Su had ruined his brother's career, and not much else.

Who knew if this hot-headed younger brother had thought that far ahead?

With that, Le Wuya gave up on stamping Zhou Wenhuan's letter, stood up, and called out: "Qin Xingyue!"

A moment later, Qin Xingyue pushed open the window and poked his head in: "Sir?"

"Saddle up," Le Wuya said. "I'm heading back to the county jail for another chat with Advisor Zhou."

Since he hadn't made his point clear, he'd go explain it again.

Zhou Wenhuan might still be hoping that after he took all the blame and died a noble death, his brother would still get some favor from Wang Su.

Knowing Wang Su's character well, Le Wuya planned to pop that bubble of illusion.

...Unless he wasn't afraid of Wang Su putting his brother in a coffin, he was welcome to bet on Wang Su's conscience.

...

Wang Su opened the second letter.

Speak of the devil.

This letter was indeed from Wen Huan himself.

He did not rush to read the contents, but first checked the position of the seal.

A peach blossom seal shimmering with a mother-of-pearl sheen was conspicuously stamped over the final character of the letter, covering half of it.

A weight lifted from Wang Su's heart, and he breathed a small sigh of relief.

The contents of the letter were a carbon copy of Zhou Wenchang's—both spoke of Le Wuya falling ill and hoping he would come up with a plan.

The difference was that Zhou Wenchang was uncertain whether to treat him, while Zhou Wenhuan directly asked whether to have him killed.

Even if both brothers had really been caught, and this letter had been stamped and sent under Le Wuya's instruction, Wang Su still couldn't believe they would just meekly accept their fate and spill everything.

Not to mention Zhou Wenhuan—just Zhou Wenchang alone was not the type to just stick his neck out for the chopping block!

He truly had no choice but to reply to this letter.

Deep down, it would be best if Wen Ren Yue just quietly died of illness in Dansui.

That face, that kind of person, should rot back into the dirt—why get mixed up in the affairs of men?

But Wang Su didn't dare take that risk.

After all, it was the emperor's order, no less.

If Wen Ren Yue's identity was never exposed and he died under murky circumstances, whether or not he was Le Wuya would remain a mystery forever, and the path to immortality the emperor so desired would become nothing but a pipe dream.

And if heads were going to roll, wouldn't it be Wang Su who had single-handedly destroyed the emperor's shot at immortality?

At that thought, Wang Su loaded his brush with thick ink and wrote a reply in secret code.

"The higher-ups have spoken: take it slow, don't let him die."

And three days earlier, a hundred li away in Dansui, Le Wuya smiled with a triumphant air at Wang Su—a hundred li away, three days in the future.

Author's note:

Closing it out, closing it out.

How lovesick Yaya does lovesick:

If my beloved asks me to raise the completion rate of an event to ninety percent, there must be a reason for it.

So just raise it to ninety percent then.