Chapter 133: Attending the Banquet (I)

The next day, Le Wuya finally met Vice-Prefect Mu Jiazhi.

The moment he laid eyes on Le Wuya, Mu Jiazhi was taken aback.

When this man had confronted the Japanese pirates at the execution ground and exposed their identities with a few swift moves, Vice-Prefect Mu had been certain he was no ordinary figure.

Yet upon learning he was indeed the new Prefect, Mu Jiazhi could not help but frown.

—Such a young man, thrust into this den of wolves, shoulders so slender and delicate, possessing nothing but a modicum of shrewdness—how could he possibly shoulder the weight of an entire prefecture?

After exchanging formal greetings, Vice-Prefect Mu offered no flattery, exchanged only a few perfunctory pleasantries, stated he was preoccupied with official duties, and, upon receiving a nod from Le Wuya, turned and left without a backward glance.

Le Wuya watched his retreating figure with interest.

He walked briskly—at a remarkably quick pace.

A clerk carrying files nearly collided with him.

Le Wuya could not see Vice-Prefect Mu’s face, only that he turned his head slightly toward the clerk. The clerk—his face flushed red from the heat—instantly paled, frozen in place. Only after Mu Jiazhi had walked far away did he breathe a sigh of relief and hurry off with quickened steps.

Nearby, Qin Xingyue murmured softly: “I hear Vice-Prefect Mu has a fiery temper and isn’t easy to deal with.”

As he poured tea, Hua Rong seized the opportunity to ask: “He oversaw the execution yesterday at noon—why did he wait a full day before coming to see you?”

Le Wuya replied, “Being the supervising execution official isn’t merely about showing up at the execution ground to watch heads roll. The follow-up—burying the dead, drafting memorials, and so on—falls entirely on the supervising official.”

With that, Le Wuya turned and gazed after Mu Jiazhi, lost in thought.

Still, Hua Rong had a point.

He could have delegated all that to his clerks and attendants to draft—no need to do it all himself.

The truth was, he hadn’t come because he hadn’t wanted to.

Le Wuya stroked his chin.

Tongzhou’s number two was shrewd and seasoned; its number three, proud and aloof.

With no local connections and newly appointed to this post, whom should he approach first to break the ice?

As Le Wuya pondered this, Wei Yixian arrived in official robes, his bearing graceful: “My Lord.”

“Perfect timing.” Le Wuya gestured for him to sit. “Two days from now is Provincial Governor Feng’s birthday. I’d like to ask—what are the proper gift-giving customs?”

Wei Yixian smiled, revealing a row of even teeth: “My Lord, it seems our thoughts align perfectly.”

“Oh?”

Wei Yixian produced a silk sachet from his sleeve and handed it to Le Wuya: “Lord Feng has always possessed refined taste and a deep appreciation for antiques. I’ve prepared a gift suited to his preferences on your behalf.”

Le Wuya opened the sachet, revealing an antique seal topped with a tortoise-shaped knob.

Wei Yixian introduced it in a gentle voice: “This is the seal of the chancellor to the Filial King of Langya during the early Eastern Han—a family heirloom of mine.”

Le Wuya held the seal in his hand, examining it from all angles, and sighed with genuine admiration: “Excellent—truly excellent. The character ‘相’ features a short stroke adjacent to the ‘目’ radical—this is unmistakably the Han official seal style.”

Wei Yixian, pleasantly surprised, immediately praised: “You have a sharp eye, my Lord—I’m deeply impressed.”

Le Wuya crossed his legs lazily and asked with a mischievous grin: “But how could I possibly accept such a generous gift from you?”

“It’s truly a matter of necessity.”

Wei Yixian spoke in a measured, unhurried tone: “His Majesty rushed you here, and it happens to coincide precisely with Lord Feng’s birthday. If you don’t go to offer your congratulations, it would breach etiquette; yet if you rush to purchase something hastily, it will appear careless—wouldn’t that squander a perfect opportunity to win Lord Feng’s favor? Your good standing with Lord Feng benefits not only yourself—it benefits all of Tongzhou. Should Lord Feng extend his favor and protection to Tongzhou, perhaps even allocate additional military funds annually, that would be a tremendous blessing for the people.”

He paused: “Moreover, this piece is precious—an artifact from a high-ranking official of the Langya Kingdom during the Eastern Han. I lack sufficient scholarly grounding, and my career never flourished; even if I kept it at home, I wouldn’t dare display it. Now that you’ve attained the second rank, my Lord, this seal suits you perfectly. Were it to remain in my humble abode, it would be like a pearl buried in dust—a true waste.”

Le Wuya blinked, his smile brightening: “Lord Wei, you certainly possess a silver tongue. So it appears, whether for public or private reasons, I have no choice but to accept?”

Wei Yixian sat upright, bowing his head respectfully: “As you wish, my Lord.”

“Very well—I accept.” Le Wuya tossed the priceless seal onto the tea table. “I am still young—would it be inappropriate for me to address you as Jianzhang?”

Wei Yixian feigned being overwhelmed by the honor: “This is Jianzhang’s good fortune—how could it possibly be improper?”

“Then, Jianzhang, tell me—what kind of man is Vice-Prefect Mu?”

Wei Yixian paused to consider: “He is a good man and a good official.”

“Oh? Such high praise?”

Wei Yixian straightened his posture and said: “I hear you excel at adjudicating criminal cases and overturning wrongful convictions, my Lord. As it happens, Vice-Prefect Mu is equally adept in this regard—bold, upright, and unafraid of the powerful. Moreover, he consistently leads by example, often burning the midnight oil on official business and drafting memorials himself, never delegating such tasks to others.”

Le Wuya replied, “I wouldn’t be so sure. I saw a clerk utterly terrified of him.”

“Ah.” Wei Yixian shook his head. “My Lord, how many people who focus on real work and deliver results manage to win everyone’s hearts and please all? The more one accomplishes, the more mistakes one inevitably makes.”

Regarding Mu Jiazhi, Wei Yixian had not uttered a single word of criticism.

At least on the surface, this man appeared smooth, agreeable, and thoroughly meticulous.

Le Wuya said mildly: “Lord Wei, you must know I wish to hear more than just this, don’t you?”

Wei Yixian leaned toward him and said sincerely: “What would you like to hear, my Lord? Your subordinate will speak without reservation.”

Le Wuya beckoned him closer.

As he leaned in, Le Wuya whispered: “What time shall we set off to deliver the birthday gift to Lord Feng?”

Even with his quick wit and sharp reflexes, Wei Yixian was momentarily thrown off by Le Wuya’s abrupt change of topic.

But only for a moment.

He smiled faintly: “Your subordinate will naturally follow your lead, my Lord. However, to reach the Provincial Governor’s office, it would be best to depart early tomorrow morning. Arriving at night, resting fully through the evening, and then presenting yourself refreshed before Lord Feng—that would be ideal.”

“Understood.” Le Wuya waved a hand. “You may take your leave.”

Wei Yixian withdrew according to protocol, turning to leave only once he had reached the courtyard.

As he walked forward, he sighed inwardly.

He had handled matters beautifully this time, spoken eloquently—but he could also tell the Lord was like a glass bead: clever, slippery, impossible to grasp.

He had spoken with the eloquence of a lotus blossom, reaching the pinnacle of persuasion, yet had not elicited a single definitive word from him.

By voluntarily offering goodwill, he had accorded Wen Ren Mingke ample face.

If the Lord had been willing to let slip even the slightest hint of willingness to cooperate, that would have been the perfect moment.

As long as Wen Ren Ming Ke stays in Tongzhou for even a couple of weeks, he'll learn that in the Tongzhou prefectural seat, there are two factions.

One is me, and the other is Mu Jiazhi.

Back in the day, I'd also been inclined to work with Mu Jiazhi.

But that man, puffed up with his own talent, looked down on eight or nine out of ten people in this world, just kept his head down and worked, without even a flicker of interest in me.

Wei Yixian spent some time and effort trying to win him over, only to find the man truly had a heart of stone—like a rock in a cesspit, both stinking and hard—and so he dropped any notion of associating with him.

Wen Ren Ming Ke is a stranger in a strange land here, and this isn't the small county of Nanting, where throwing money, effort, and skill around could raise a towering mansion from flat ground and let him build his own following.

This is Tongzhou, where power is deeply tangled and everyone has their own agenda—not a place where petty favors buy loyalty.

The Emperor sent Wen Ren Ming Ke here precisely to "get things done," right?

If he wants to get anything done, he has to pick a side.

—Either cozy up to me, or cozy up to Mu Jiazhi.

Today I buttered him up something fierce, put in a real effort, and all I got in return were a few empty pleasantries—not a single promise.

Instead, he was fishing for information about Mu Jiazhi.

What does that tell you?

It tells me this gentleman is far more interested in Mu Jiazhi.

Indeed, young as he is, he won the Emperor's favor and shot up from a seventh-rank County Magistrate to a fourth-rank Prefect at twenty-six—in terms of promotion speed, no one in this dynasty has surpassed him except that Le Wuya.

A man like that, with no capable people around him, would naturally want a real go-getter over someone like me—a man who covers all bases but has the face of a flatterer.

Besides, what did this gentleman build his career on?

Hearing cases.

Mu Jiazhi, in that regard, is just to his liking.

At this thought, Wei Yixian turned to face forward and smiled faintly.

He likes go-getters?

Fine. Just fine.

If he leans toward me, then everyone's happy.

If he prefers Mu Jiazhi, then I've already set the trap, just waiting for the Prefect to walk right into it.

With any luck, both Mu Jiazhi and he could lose their standing and get kicked out.

As Wei Yixian's mind wandered off to the heavens, he naturally didn't notice the burning gaze fixed on his back.

Le Wuya's eyes were glued to his back, lingering even after he disappeared from view.

Hua Rong was equally stunned by Wei Yixian's glib tongue and silently resolved to learn the art of speaking from this Assistant Prefect.

He asked Le Wuya quietly: "Master, do you think he's genuinely well-intentioned, or is it all an act?"

Le Wuya said coolly: "Do you even need to ask? He's saving his energy to screw me over big time."

Hua Rong: "...How can you tell?"

Le Wuya waved his fan, grinning: "When I'm plotting to screw someone over, I've got that exact same look on my face."

Hua Rong wasn't in the mood for jokes, feeling the Master's path ahead was fraught with danger, and couldn't help worrying: "What exactly is he scheming?"

Le Wuya picked up his teacup: "Who knows? We'll see."

He took a sip of the fragrant Biluochun but found it didn't quite hit the spot, so he set the cup down: "Where's that herbal tea Shou Yue brought?"

Hua Rong gave an "ah": "I'll go get it."

Le Wuya leaned back, closed his eyes, and fanned himself, thinking: Our Scholar Ming should be heading to the prefectural capital now to prepare for the autumn exams, right?

...

The next day, Le Wuya set out with Wei Yixian and Mu Jiazhi to deliver gifts and offer birthday congratulations to Lord Feng Long.

Wei Yixian's arrangements were indeed meticulous—the gifts he prepared didn't exceed the value of that Langya Prime Minister's seal, so they'd never overshadow Le Wuya's.

As for Mu Jiazhi, he'd prepared a set of the four treasures of the study—not flashy, not cheap, keeping a low profile to the end.

When Lord Feng saw Le Wuya's gifts, he was indeed greatly comforted and overjoyed, and took Le Wuya's hand, praising his boundless future.

Le Wuya, for his part, kept the sweet talk flowing—the gist being that Lord Feng would live to a hundred—but he delivered these tired old pleasantries with such wit and charm that Lord Feng's joy swelled to the max.

Lord Feng, as host of today's banquet, had the duty of greeting guests and couldn't linger too long with his subordinates.

Even so, he stole a moment to take Le Wuya by the hand and personally escort him to his seat, treating him with no small measure of gravity and warmth.

After taking his seat, Le Wuya flitted about like a social butterfly, gliding over to his fellow prefects, mingling and bantering, quickly dissolving into laughter and chatter with everyone around him—from the recent sweltering heat to which famed performer would take the stage and which grand opera would be put on today.

Wei Yixian, watching from the side, saw for the first time Le Wuya's mastery at flattery and currying favor—so polished it surpassed his own—and couldn't help but sigh inwardly: truly, heroes come from the young.

Mu Jiazhi, watching Le Wuya's smooth socializing, turned his detached gaze to Wei Yixian: "Prefect Wen Ren and Lord Wei must get along quite well, I imagine."

Wei Yixian pretended not to notice the sarcasm: "Getting along or not, what does it matter? As long as we work together with one heart, it's a blessing for the people of Tongzhou."

Mu Jiazhi curled his lips into a silent, cold smile, about to say more, when a clear announcement rang out from ahead: "The County Princess of Tonglu has arrived!"

Le Wuya started, looked up, and caught sight of Lord Feng, accompanied by Lady Feng, leading Qi Hongzhuang in her pale blue-green dress toward the women's seating area.

Qi Hongzhuang said: "Lord Feng, I've come uninvited—what a bother."

Lord Feng smiled, but inwardly he was wondering.

He knew she was no ordinary widow, and he knew she was currently doing very well for herself in Tongzhou as a female merchant.

What he didn't know was why this County Princess, whom he barely knew, had come to offer him birthday greetings.

Despite his many questions, he kept his composure and said easily: "County Princess, your words flatter me to death."

Even if she'd suffered the consequences alongside Le Wuya, demoted from Commandery Princess to County Princess, she was still the Emperor's adopted daughter by imperial decree, the very embodiment of "supreme filial piety."

He cast a look at his wife, signaling her to quickly arrange a seat for the County Princess.

He still had to go greet guests at the door.

However, after Lord Feng left, Qi Hongzhuang showed no sign of sitting down.

She glanced around briefly and, without much effort, spotted Le Wuya looking at her from afar.

A flicker of light crossed her usually cold face as she headed toward where the prefects were seated.

Qi Hongzhuang had only taken two steps when Lady Feng, catching on that something was wrong, called out to her.

"County Lady. You're going the wrong way." She stepped forward to block her way. "That's the men's section."

Qi Hongzhuang gazed at her for a moment, then a slight smile curled at the corner of her mouth.

"Madam, have you misunderstood something?" Qi Hongzhuang's tone was as sharp and direct as always. "I'm a dutiful daughter, not a chaste widow."

With that, she bypassed the stunned Lady Feng and strode directly toward Le Wuya, coming to a graceful stop in front of him.

"Lord Wenren." She casually picked up a cup filled with wine. "It's been months since our parting at Nanting. How's 'Si Wuya'—'Endless Thought'—doing?"

"Good." Le Wuya quickly recovered his composure, raising his teacup in response. "All is well."

Under the watchful eyes of the surprised, envious, or suspicious, the two calmly clinked glasses and drank.

Le Wuya lowered his voice. "Why'd the County Lady come here?"

Qi Hongzhuang replied, "Someone wrote to me, saying that Lord Wenren, newly appointed, would surely attend this banquet to offer congratulations, and told me to come and back you up."

Le Wuya blinked, wanting to ask more, but suddenly a squad of soldiers, all in neat formation, filed in through the main gate and took their positions on either side.

The announcer's voice quavered a bit as he called out, "General Dingyuan, Pei Mingqi, has arrived—"

Le Wuya: "..."

Pei Mingqi strode in, head high, hands behind his back. After a majestic sweep of the room, his eyes zeroed in on the stunned Le Wuya.

His eyes lit up, and he descended the steps, hurrying over. Without a word, he yanked Le Wuya into a bear hug and spun him around twice.

Setting Le Wuya down, Pei Mingqi complained, "Not used to the climate here? You've gotten skinny as a rail!!"

Le Wuya was speechless for a moment, but curiosity beat out his urge to argue. "What are you doing here?"

"Didn't I tell you? I'm heading back to the capital to take up my post." Pei Mingqi said matter-of-factly. "Just passing through, figured I'd swing by to see you!"

If he wanted to see him, why not go to Tongzhou? How'd he know to find him at Lord Feng's birthday banquet?

Le Wuya cut to the chase. "Who wrote to you?"

Before Pei Mingqi could answer, Le Wuya glanced over his shoulder and caught a surprising sight.

Lord Feng, who had been welcoming guests outside, was now on both knees, looking awestruck, as if receiving some distinguished visitor.

The next moment, a tall, graceful young man strolled in, fanning himself.

His posture, his walk, even the way he flicked the fan—all nearly a mirror of Le Wuya's.

The whole room, cowed by his presence, rose to their feet and traded glances, speculating on his identity.

Prefect Qiao beside him exclaimed in shock, "Isn't that—"

Another prefect whispered, "Old Qiao, you recognize him?"

"...That's the Seventh Prince. The Seventh Prince of the current emperor!" Prefect Qiao whispered back. "The Seventh Prince's maternal family are imperial merchants supplying cotton yarn, with two hundred weaving houses in my jurisdiction—they're my most crucial source of tax revenue. Previously, Lord Feng would invite them every festival, but they rarely socialized with local officials and never came despite repeated invitations. Who would've thought—this time, he's actually managed to invite the Seventh Prince!"

Seeing Le Wuya dumbfounded was a rare treat, and Xiang Zhi was in high spirits. Facing him, he twisted the ruby-studded earring and turned to the humble Lord Feng: "My lord, where shall I sit?"

Le Wuya thought, just a few days ago he was thinking of the money-spreader, and today he gets to see him?

Is it really that effective?

Through his clothes, he twisted the small chess piece that had absorbed his body heat, silently reciting:

Xiaoliu, Xiaoliu, grant my wish, appear quickly.