Chapter 129: Parting (III)

When Le Wuya and his group passed through the Jinyuan County border, the clouds in the sky blazed like a chain of fire, burning fiercely all the way to eight hundred li (roughly 250 miles) away.

They needed to stay overnight in Jinyuan County.

Le Wuya had given Qin Xingyue a sum of money in advance, telling him to settle the others in and treat them to a good meal, while he himself rode alone toward the Jinyuan County government office.

Qi Wuhu had no idea Le Wuya was coming today. When he stepped out to greet him, he was wearing a plain cotton undershirt, looking at first glance no different from a stubborn old man next door.

He saw Le Wuya travel-worn and weary, did a quick calculation, and guessed it was time for him to assume his new post.

He asked bluntly, in his usual gruff manner: "You eaten yet?"

Le Wuya, like a freeloading relative, shook his head with a grin.

Qi Wuhu snorted: "Jinyuan has nothing good, and you can't handle strong liquor. So whatever I eat, you eat."

With that, he pulled out a pouch.

The pouch was large but flat, lying in Qi Wuhu's broad palm, as thin as a leaf.

He fished out a few coins like a conjurer and handed them to the attendant beside him: "Go buy some sliced pork head."

The clerks of Jinyuan County were thoroughly influenced by Qi Wuhu's temperament.

The attendant's reply was equally gruff, in the same style as Qi Wuhu: "Got it!"

When the food was served, Le Wuya looked around at the plain congee, pickled vegetables, and a plate of pork head meat on the table, then glanced down at the table itself.

The lacquer on this table had clearly been touched up again and again. One table leg was shorter than the others, propped up by a blue brick wrapped in burlap, barely keeping this meager spread from tipping over.

Looking at the plate of pork head meat, Le Wuya joked: "Old man, you usually eat this fancy?"

"Just eat yours." Qi Wuhu pushed the plate toward him. "That oughta shut you up, huh?"

Qi Wuhu knew that Le Wuya's departure meant a promotion.

With his abilities, it was only a matter of time before he made it big.

By all rights, he ought to treat such a promising rising star with courtesy.

But Qi Wuhu's temperament was what it was, hard to change, so he simply didn't bother trying.

In Qi Wuhu's eyes, Le Wuya was just a clever, mischievous kid. Even if he became a prefect, or even a prime minister, he'd never change his ways.

If Le Wuya didn't change, then why should he?

And if Le Wuya truly abandoned his original aspirations because of high office and riches, then he wouldn't give him the time of day either.

Le Wuya picked up a piece of pickled vegetable with his chopsticks and put it in his mouth.

This radish was grown right here in Jinyuan. The seasoning was decent, but the radish itself was soft and bland—neither sweet nor crisp.

Le Wuya swallowed it without complaint.

Jinyuan County boasted a hundred li (about 30 miles) of plains, yet the soil was poor, and it lay at the most turbulent stretch of the Mang River, getting flooded and hit by disasters almost every year.

Jinyuan County wasn't as well-connected as Nanting County. It couldn't take shortcuts or find easy paths. It could only farm, provide disaster relief, and help the people through steady, honest work.

Qi Wuhu had spent his entire life's effort on taming the rivers and improving the land, and had pinched pennies from his own meager means to build and reinforce the Dongshan Dam, layer by layer.

It wasn't until last summer, during flood season, when one torrential downpour after another hit, that Jinyuan County finally didn't see the dam break.

After the flood season passed, the strain he'd been under suddenly lifted, and he came down with a serious illness.

When Le Wuya returned from the capital to visit him, he was already back on his feet, leaning on a cane and cursing up a storm.

At the time, he'd told Le Wuya: "As long as I can hold back the floodwaters, Qi Yingchen has done right by the folks of Jinyuan."

The radish was bland, the rice grains were coarse—but who cared?

For the folks of Jinyuan County, just getting a full belly was the greatest blessing in the world.

Le Wuya wolfed down the simple meal, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and said: "Brother Yingchen, I'm fixing to head to Tongzhou."

"I figured this day would come." Qi Wuhu nodded. "You're no small-town fish. How could this little county hold you?"

Le Wuya broke into a smile and countered: "Then is Jinyuan County enough for you?"

Qi Wuhu shot him a sharp glance: "Speak plainly. Don't give me riddles—I ain't got the patience for your twisted schemes."

If he wanted plain talk, Le Wuya would give it to him straight: "Come with me."

That was too blunt, catching Qi Wuhu completely off guard.

"Go where?" Qi Wuhu frowned, thinking he was joking. "Tongzhou?"

"Come be a county magistrate alongside me. I'll set you up somewhere nice—hills and streams, where you can farm till you drop."

Qi Wuhu eyed him suspiciously: "What do you want me for?"

Le Wuya: "Just being a good son, taking the old man out to see the world."

Qi Wuhu waved a hand, refusing the gesture: "I'm an old bag of bones. Don't give me your smooth talk!"

Le Wuya's smile faded, and he looked at him seriously: "An old bag of bones—who says it can't be a pillar holding up the southern sky?"

Qi Wuhu's lips moved slightly: "...Don't give me that empty talk. I don't want to hear it."

"Alright, old man, you don't like fluff, so I'll give it to you straight."

Le Wuya sat upright at the table, speaking word by word with earnest sincerity: "If your dam here in Jinyuan hadn't been built, I'd rather keep these words buried in my chest than say them to you."

"No one else would've had the grit and stubbornness to wrestle with this broken-down dam. Disaster? Let it come—just stick your hand out and beg the court for grain and money. How easy would that be? Skim a little off the court's relief funds and grain, give seventy percent to keep the local gentry happy, thirty percent to the common folk—that would be enough to live comfortably for a lifetime."

"Old man, you're remarkable. The court couldn't care less about Jinyuan's paltry tax revenue and refuses to allocate funds for you. You didn't beg a soul, and you built this dam through sheer grit. I admire you."

"But what comes after it's built?"

"Brother Yingchen, in these decades of work, your census rolls, reclaimed fields, and tax ledgers have all become dead weight. Forget raises in pay or recommendations for promotion—isn't your yearly review always just marked 'satisfactory'?"

Le Wuya stood up and strode quickly toward the pensive Qi Wuhu: "'Satisfactory'—not even 'competent'! Brother Yingchen, I believe you've devoted yourself to the people of Jinyuan, not for your own advancement. But now Jinyuan has begun to recover, no longer the perilous place everyone once avoided. Given Prefect Lyu's temperament, if he were to cite your advanced age and send you home in retirement, yielding your post to someone else, what would you do? You've been true to the people of Jinyuan all your life—but have you truly been true to yourself?"

Qi Wuhu squinted, scrutinizing Le Wuya.

After a long moment, he sighed in admiration: "That mouth of yours is something else—could talk the dead back to life."

Le Wuya clasped his hands behind his back, gazing at him calmly: "'No one weaves the embroidered saddle cloth; who will cast the golden whip?' If you're willing to come to Tongzhou, I'd forge a golden whip for you, Brother Yingchen—to strike down the wicked and rein in the iron steed."

Finally, he blinked and added, "...It can only be gold-plated, though. My money didn't just fall out of the sky."

Qi Wuhu couldn't help but laugh, even as a flood of emotions washed over him.

If he hadn't had such soaring ambitions, why would he have ever sat for the imperial exams?

But what he never could have imagined was that after half a lifetime of struggle, now old and gray, the one who truly understood his aspirations and believed in his abilities would be a greenhorn just entering officialdom.

The room went quiet.

After a long pause, Qi Wuhu replied with what sounded like a non sequitur: "The flood season hasn't arrived yet this year. I still need to check on my dike."

"Excellent." Le Wuya's face lit up as he got to his feet, giving the old hardheaded coot a big hug. "Once this summer's over, I'll submit a memorial to the throne."

"You're that sure they'll let me go?"

"Not necessarily." Le Wuya slung an arm around his shoulder. "It depends on how the Ministry of Personnel sees you. If they give your record a quick once-over and see nothing but 'average' evaluations year after year, then moving you over would be no big deal. But if they actually bother to look closely, how could they not see that Brother Yingchen is a real talent, no ordinary man? Either way, you come out ahead. You can't lose."

Qi Wuhu felt the blood surge in his veins and let out a shaky "Ha!" "Then not going would be the real loss. You still owe me a golden whip!"

Le Wuya laughed: "That's right! So you'd better get here soon!"

"If the dike holds up, I'll come." Qi Wuhu said it quick and sharp. "Even if I have to quit my post, I'll tie up my stuff in a bundle and head to Tongzhou to be a lowly clerk under you. That wouldn't be a life wasted!"

Le Wuya held out his left palm: "Talk is cheap. Let's seal it with a clap."

Qi Wuhu didn't hesitate, sticking out his big, bony hand.

Three claps, and the oath was sealed.

Le Wuya shook his hand, hissing through his teeth: "Man, those are some hard bones! You nearly broke my hand!"

Qi Wuhu said nothing, just smiling at this young friend from across the years—his future boss.

That old fervor never cooled—it burned warm, surging from his heart, pushing up again and again.

...

With that last big matter settled, Le Wuya and his crew said goodbye to Jinyuan County, hit the official road, and set out for Tongzhou Prefecture.

They traveled in plain clothes, moving at a good clip, without any of the fuss of officials heading to their new posts.

To look at him, Le Wuya didn't seem like an official at all—more like a dashing young gentleman from a rich family.

To outsiders, they looked less like a promoted official's retinue and more like a merchant caravan coming back from a sale.

The farther south they traveled, the more prosperous the cities became.

Yuan Zijin had been born and raised in the capital, growing up breathing the earthy smell of spring in the imperial city. He'd only ever heard about Jiangnan's scenery and customs from his father at family banquets. Now, hearing the babbling of little bridges and streams, catching glimpses of pretty girls, and tasting new dishes—everything thrilled him to no end.

Maybe because they were both rich kids with nothing to do, he felt especially drawn to Zhong Piaoping and loved chatting him up.

Since his family's troubles, Zhong Piaoping had gotten a lot quieter, but his natural love of lively company was hard to shake. When people talked to him, he listened gladly—a great audience.

But the closer they got to Tongzhou, the weirder things got.

Even in broad daylight, the folks on the streets looked haggard and scared.

Before dusk even fell, the city gates would slam shut with a boom.

Even Yuan Zijin felt the bad vibe and shut up about his jokes. During the day, he did what Le Wuya told him, chucking rocks at far-off targets; at night, he lifted heavy stuff to build up his strength.

This was a place Yuan Weiyan had once commanded.

He'd been in Nanting before, a thousand li away; now he was in Tongzhou, and as his son, pride swelled in his chest.

Even if nobody knew who he was, he couldn't let the Dragon Tiger General's reputation take a hit.

The day they reached Tongzhou Prefecture, it was so hot nobody could stand to be outside.

But Tongzhou Prefecture was buzzing like crazy.

Le Wuya, in soft thin pants and a light shirt, fanned himself lazily as he watched crowds stream in the same direction like a tide. Even the shopkeepers were frantically boarding up their doors and shutting down for the day. Curious, he snapped his fan shut and said to He Qingsong, "Old He, go find out what big thing's going on in town today."

He Qingsong went off to do it.

Before long, he came back wiping sweat off his forehead: "Sir, there really is something. They say there's an execution to see."

Le Wuya's heart skipped a beat: "Whose execution?"

Having worked for Le Wuya for so long, He Qingsong had gotten more and more thorough.

He answered without missing a beat: "Japanese pirates—twelve of them, sent over from Pingge County in Puluo Prefecture. They're getting their heads chopped off at noon."

Le Wuya lowered his head, his clear eyes darting thoughtfully: "Let's go check it out."