Chapter 350: A Fine Show (Part 2)

Chapter 350: A Fine Show (Part 2)

In the Zhaoming Hall, the sun's shadow slanted westward.

Thin light crept from the latticed windows in the southeast toward the northwest.

Narrow bands of light stretched across the deep hall, illuminating the floating dust motes and the slightly faded map of the realm behind the dragon throne.

When Wang Su was escorted into the hall, this was the sight that greeted him.

It was a sight he had long since grown used to.

Now, it would be his last.

Wang Su had begged desperately for this final audience, literally banging his head on the ground until it split open, writing a blood letter in his own blood to secure this last meeting.

He knew he would not survive. Among his three clans, some would be beheaded, others exiled—the entire Wang family would be scattered and ruined, never to rise again.

Wang Su wanted nothing more.

He only wished for one last meeting between ruler and subject, to end things with dignity.

That was all he had worked for his whole life.

But before he could even finish his thoughts, he heard the eunuch's singsong announcement: "By imperial order, the Left Censor-in-Chief, the Chief Justice of the Court of Judicial Review, and the Vice Minister of Justice are to enter the hall—"

Wang Su spun around, shock and fury flashing across his face.

While kneeling in wait, he had worked up a good store of sincere tears to shed before the emperor.

But when he turned, he met Le Wuya's smiling eyes.

Before Wang Su could compose his expression, a single cloudy tear rolled down his cheek.

Le Wuya rested his hands on his knees, leaned over with feigned concern: "Oh, Lord Wang, what's the matter?"

Zhang Yuanye tugged at his belt from behind, signaling that the emperor would be here soon and he shouldn't act up.

Le Wuya pointed at Wang Su, highly amused: "He's crying!"

Wang Su: "..."

Zhang Yuanye: "..."

Though Zhang Yuanye doted on Le Wuya and favored him greatly, he had to admit the man could be a real pain at times.

Le Wuya continued studying Wang Su with relentless curiosity.

Back when he was in prison awaiting death, his greatest pleasure had been sleeping late.

He was determined to catch up on all the sleep he'd missed in the first half of his life before he died.

But this old scoundrel came to the prison daily with fresh and varied charges, dragging him out of bed and forcing him to confess.

Back then, Le Wuya's eyesight had been poor, and the cell was dim—he nearly went blind squinting at the charges. Yet the old man not only refused to add candlelight but also tried to keep him awake like a hawk, forbidding him to sleep until he confessed.

After being kept awake for half a day, Le Wuya quickly learned his lesson. Not only did he accept every absurd charge thrown at him, but he also threw in extras, voluntarily confessing to numerous additional crimes.

With one foot in the grave, he had thrown the entire court into chaos. Not only that, but he had seized the opportunity to beat the old man, yanking out a clump of his hair, leaving him bald to this day.

Le Wuya had always held a grudge.

He felt he hadn't provoked enough.

Because...

The eunuch's voice rang out again: "His Majesty approaches—"

Le Wuya lifted his robes and knelt in obeisance.

Someone owed him a great debt from a previous life, and he hadn't collected on it yet.

After Xiang Zheng took his seat, his first glance was not at Wang Su—pale and dejected with his bandaged head—but at Le Wuya, who stood where Wang Su once had. He offered a warm smile: "Minister Wenren, the Censorate's affairs are numerous—are you getting settled in?"

Le Wuya: "Your Majesty, by the grace of heaven, all goes smoothly."

Xiang Zheng nodded: "Very good. But autumn is deepening and the dew is cold—remember to dress warmly. I heard you cough a couple of times the other day. Are you feeling better now?"

"Your Majesty's concern honors me; it's just a minor ailment."

"Minor illnesses must never be taken lightly. This condition is most susceptible to autumn chill. I've already instructed the Imperial Medical Academy to prepare some pear syrup—remember to take it with you."

Le Wuya displayed just the right amount of grateful surprise, then lowered his eyes: "Thank you for Your Majesty's grace."

Le Wuya had served at the emperor's side before.

He knew that someone in a high position could see every subtle movement below.

After confirming that his expression of gratitude tinged with loneliness had fully registered with Xiang Zheng, Le Wuya turned his head and glanced at the ashen-faced Wang Su, giving a triumphant wink.

When Xiang Zheng decided to be kind, he was indeed irresistibly charming.

Most importantly, he was the emperor.

Lord of all under heaven, ruler of the four seas—a single word of concern, a bit of worthless pear syrup, could move a talented young man to lay down his life for him.

Wang Su had taken the bait, and Jie Jitong had been no different.

But Le Wuya had never fallen for it.

In his youth, before he knew his true identity, Le Wuya had also been praised by Xiang Zheng to the skies, as if he were the greatest prodigy in all of history.

While Le Wuya preened with his tail feathers raised high, he had had the treasonous thought: If I were the emperor, I'd definitely reward this prodigy with a grand mansion. Anyone can just talk.

He considered himself a magnificent fish who wouldn't bite a worthless hook.

He intended to set a trap for the fisherman instead.

Xiang Zheng genuinely liked Le Wuya now.

Seeing Le Wuya was like seeing his own second chance at life.

Who wouldn't like him?

However, he soon withdrew his gaze and turned it to Wang Su.

Compared to Le Wuya's high spirits, Wang Su was thin as a stray dog by the roadside, his head hastily wrapped in blood-stained gauze, a few strands of gray hair stirring in the breeze, reeking of decay and defeat.

Looking at him, Xiang Zheng frowned:

Wang Su had always been this shameless, hadn't he?

What kind of man was Wang Su?

When it came to reading the emperor's mind, if he ranked second, no one dared claim first.

His body gave a brief, involuntary flinch, as if pricked by needles, and he kowtowed with full ceremony: "Your Majesty... your guilty minister Wang Su is too ashamed to look upon your sacred countenance."

"If you're so ashamed, why show your face at all?" Xiang Zheng said, gazing at him calmly. "The three trials have rendered their final verdict, and the case files and evidence are all complete. Wang Su, you were adamant about seeing me—do you still have something to say?"

Wang Su wore an expression of one who faces death without fear: "Your guilty minister dares not plead his case, but wishes only to thank Your Majesty face-to-face for years of kindness, to fulfill the obligations of the sovereign-subject bond."

Beside him, Le Wuya let out a cold, utterly unrestrained laugh: "Ha."

At the sound, Zhang Yuanye drew in a sharp, shallow breath.

A breach of decorum before the throne!

Sure enough, Xiang Zheng's attention was drawn over: "My dear Minister Wenren, do you have something to say?"

"I just find it amusing," Le Wuya said. "Lord Wang now holds forth grandly on sovereign-subject loyalty, putting on a show of utter devotion to Your Majesty. But when you had those three hundred miners killed in the emperor's name, where was your loyalty to sovereign and subject then?"

Wang Su raised his face, his tone suddenly turning sharp: "Le Wuya, you dare to prattle about sovereign-subject loyalty?"

At these words, even the usually good-natured Zhang Yuanye's expression turned cold.

He knew it all along!

This old wretch insisting on seeing the emperor before his death—he definitely had something nasty up his sleeve!

...

Actually, this time, Zhang Yuanye had misjudged him.

Wang Su had expected today to be a private meeting with the emperor.

But the emperor had arranged for the Three Judicial Offices to attend the hearing, clearly having no desire to hear him out.

He knew the emperor.

He knew exactly what the emperor wanted him to do.

—He'd best take the blame, stay put in prison, keep his mouth shut, and wait for the executioner's blade.

He couldn't accept it!

Refused!!

He had spent his entire life climbing the ladder; before death, he asked for nothing but dignity.

To die in prison like Le Wuya—that would be a clean end.

But to be paraded through the streets with a sign around his neck, hauled off to Caishikou, and have his head lopped off in full view of the crowd, amid the jeers and murmurs of the common folk...

Wang Su dared not think of it; the mere thought kept him awake at night and made his whole body tremble.

After mulling it over this way and that, Wang Su hit upon a foolproof plan:

If the emperor would grant him a cup of poisoned wine and declare him "dead of a sudden illness," that would be the best outcome.

But the emperor had no desire to talk with him at length.

He had even called for Le Wuya!

In all his life, Wang Su had hated no one more than Le Wuya.

He had served the sovereign diligently for years, devoting his every ounce of loyalty to the Son of Heaven.

Now the emperor had seen the light, discovered Le Wuya's greater value, and cast him aside like a pair of worn-out shoes.

At this thought, the bitterness surged in Wang Su's chest, and he decided to lay his cards on the table: "Your Majesty! A dying man's words are sincere! This man is truly Le Wuya's spirit returned in another's body, come to claim lives! Your Majesty must not be hoodwinked by him—!"

Yu Xiuqun was shocked, never imagining the old villain would use the "a dying man's words are sincere" excuse to sow discord in the emperor's heart.

If the emperor actually believed it, that would be disastrous!?

Having worked alongside Le Wuya for so long, he certainly didn't want Le Wuya burdened with such an indefensible accusation, and immediately rebuked him sternly: "How dare you, Wang Su! Before the emperor himself, you still spout nonsense and slander a high minister of the court?!"

Yu Xiuqun clasped his hands in salute and added: "Your Majesty, such absurd words must never be believed!"

Xiang Zheng waved a hand and asked unhurriedly: "Minister Wenren, what do you say?"

And Le Wuya, openly accused by Wang Su of being an evil spirit in open court, remained unruffled, bowing to Xiang Zheng, his tone suddenly turning heavy with grief:

"Your Majesty, your minister... is stricken with unbearable grief."

Zhang Yuanye and Yu Xiuqun, who had been anxious on his behalf: "..."

Somehow, they suddenly stopped worrying.

Le Wuya clutched his chest and said: "Lord Wang was once the exemplar of the Censorate. Now, driven mad by fear of death, he has sunk to fabricating tales to deceive Your Majesty's ears."

Wang Su hadn't expected him to be so adept at pinning charges: "Slander! When did I ever deceive the throne?!"

Le Wuya clasped his hands behind his back and turned to face him: "You say Your Majesty is being deceived—what do you mean by that? Are you insinuating that the emperor is a benighted, incompetent ruler who cannot tell loyal from treacherous?"

Wang Su's blood rushed to his head, and he roared: "Don't twist my words! His Majesty is naturally a sage ruler! It's you! You're the evil spirit using sorcery to bewitch—"

Le Wuya cut him off loudly, his tone stern: "His Majesty is the sovereign of all under heaven, the Emperor, mandated by Heaven itself! You claim time and again that His Majesty can be 'bewitched'—what does that leave of His Majesty's sagely wisdom?!"

At this, Le Wuya shook his head slightly: "Lord Wang, to escape punishment, you'd even drag the emperor into it. Truly..."

Seeing the emperor's expression turn cold, Wang Su's panic flared: "I have admitted my guilt—when did I ever try to escape it?"

Le Wuya shook his head: "You spin pretty words before the emperor, using ghosts and gods as your excuse. Your intent is plain as day! You slaughtered the people of Dansui—was that also me 'bewitching' you with sorcery? Then judging cases would be simple indeed: just find a scapegoat, call him an evil spirit, and everything you did was merely following his will?"

At the words "following his will," Wang Su almost instinctively glanced at the emperor.

Catching his gaze, Xiang Zheng, who had been watching with amusement, was momentarily taken aback.

He had been certain Wang Su was utterly loyal and would never betray him.

What did that look from Wang Su mean?

Wang Su, startled by his own lapse, immediately dropped his gaze, but heard Le Wuya say: "What do you follow? At the end of the day, you follow nothing but your own greed! Wang Su, wake up! If His Majesty had truly given you orders, why is it you who sits in prison today, rather than being promoted and rewarded?"

Wang Su stood frozen.

A burning pain spread from his heart and lungs.

He was greedy?

When had he ever been greedy?

He was upright and incorruptible, never greedy, never taking what wasn't his—yet he was framed so viciously!

The money he used to win people over had all been allocated to him by the Emperor from the privy purse!

As for Le Wuya's money, he had never touched a single cent of it!

All he ever wanted was to serve the Emperor!

Heaven, earth, sovereign, kin, and teacher—he had placed the sovereign above all else, so why did he end up like this?

Wang Su heard Le Wuya's flippant questioning: "You misjudged His Majesty's intent, acted ruthlessly, left a mountain of messes, and now you wish to pin the label of 'framing loyal officials' on the Emperor?"

"What will the history books say about you, Wang Su?"

Wang Su was shaken to his very core, and for a moment, he was completely stunned.

The history books?

He had once imagined that if he could follow a sage sovereign all his life, he would be a capable minister, a worthy minister, a good minister!

But ever since he had been thrown into prison, he no longer dared to think about it.

Now, Le Wuya's words dragged him back into that painful daydream.

Le Wuya's tone was light yet venomous: "A sycophant? A clown? A torturer?"

Wang Su could hardly breathe.

"Or perhaps..." Le Wuya said in a low voice, "right behind the Le Wuya you long for, becoming this dynasty's second-greatest treacherous official?"

...

Xiang Zheng let out a scoff.

He genuinely thought it was funny.

In his eyes, Le Wuya was getting his revenge.

A petty little fox who never let a grudge go—pretty amusing.

But that laugh completely broke Wang Su's composure.

He jerked his head up, eyes bloodshot.

He glared directly at Xiang Zheng.

Xiang Zheng, seeing him so crazily out of line, said nothing, sitting high on the dragon throne as if he had nothing to do with any of it.

Wang Su watched, thought, and felt like he was waking from a long dream. He forced a harsh, twisted laugh from his throat.

At this point, facing death, he actually felt a grudging admiration for Le Wuya.

If he were in Le Wuya's place, comparing their situations, this man's grievances and fury from a past life far surpassed his own.

Yet he had swallowed all that rage and claimed that he himself... had failed the Emperor's kindness?

So in the end, who failed who?

For the first time, Wang Su looked straight at the Emperor:

"Your Majesty, is it amusing?"

Xiang Zheng, who had been lazily enjoying the show, was caught off guard: "...?"

In his entire life, no subject had ever dared question him to his face like this.

The last time he'd felt this way was right before Empress Rong died.

The feeling was so foreign that Xiang Zheng could hardly believe it: "What did you say?"

In the prison cell, Wang Su had already sensed he was utterly abandoned.

But when he truly witnessed the faith of his lifetime seated high in the hall, looking utterly detached, and heard that scoff aimed at him, his final line of defense crumbled completely.

"Your old servant has given his whole life to you, doing all those dirty jobs..." Wang Su trembled violently, even his graying beard shaking, "and you find it amusing?"

Author's note:

Bankrupt.

That's what happens to those who fail.