Chapter 139: Pressing for Pay (Part 1)

After the two of them sat back down, Prefect Qiao, who was holding his wine cup and bobbing his head to the music, immediately noticed something amiss: "Hey now, Brother Wenren, why's your forehead so red?"

Le Wuya replied with a smile, "Lord Feng's household is so impressive that this country bumpkin was totally blown away. I accidentally smacked my head right into a door pillar and gave myself a solid whack. Great, great—my official position is secure now. What's that called? Fortune smiling on me."

Prefect Qiao chuckled at his witty remarks, while also casting a glance at the other prefects:

Hey fellas, this one's a real sharp cookie.

Earlier, while Le Wuya was away, the prefects hadn't been sitting around either.

They'd pieced together what little they knew about this young prefect and put together a rough picture of his background.

He'd climbed the ladder three ways: solving cases, currying favor, and ratting out his colleagues.

The first two didn't matter.

Solving cases was his real skill—nothing to envy there.

As for being socially adept, fawning and flattering, and doing it so smoothly that you didn't lay it on too thick and rub people the wrong way—that was an even greater talent in officialdom.

They'd be lining up to learn from him.

What truly made these prefects wary of Le Wuya was the whole Shao the traitor business in Xingtai County.

Shao had indeed committed a crime so heinous no punishment could atone for it, betraying imperial grace and deserving his fate.

But who would wish for a colleague who stabbed others in the back and ratted them out?

Another prefect gave a knowing smile, his tone carrying a hint of good-natured teasing: "Prefect Wenren has been to the palace and seen the splendor of the imperial court, yet he still cherishes our quaint southern scenery. Clearly, he's got a connection to our neck of the woods."

Le Wuya blinked slowly.

Most people hearing that would take it as a genuine compliment.

Even if they didn't show it on their face, they'd secretly feel quite pleased for a while.

But Le Wuya had spent years playing the political game—if he couldn't read between the lines and catch the undertones, he might as well resign and go home, buy some land, and retire early.

Why had he gone to the capital to receive honors?

Wasn't it because he had exposed Shao Hongzhen and uncovered the opium trafficking ring in Xingtai?

...He's poking at me here.

Having figured out the implication, Le Wuya took his time drinking half a cup of clear tea to wet his throat, then spoke slowly: "Lord Su's mention of the capital reminds me of something from the past."

Le Wuya lowered his voice slightly: "Gentlemen, have you heard about the Xingtai business?"

The room fell silent, with only the tunes of Huangmei opera drifting through the air.

...Is this something you can just bring up in polite company?

Le Wuya paid no mind to their reactions, leaned back in his chair, and began spinning a wild yarn:

"Back then, after the Xingtai massacre, a family of seven in Yinjia Village was wiped out overnight. The traitor Shao—then still Magistrate Shao—moved fast and cracked the case. Prefect Lyu Deyao summoned us to offer congratulations, singing Magistrate Shao's praises as a model official."

"As you all know, I, Wen Ren Ming Ke, am a jack of all trades, master of none, but I do have some skill in solving cases. Hearing Prefect Lyu praise him, I got a competitive itch and wanted to learn a thing or two from Magistrate Shao. So I tagged along shamelessly to Xingtai to see how he'd cracked the case."

"I reviewed the case files and cross-checked the evidence, and found the investigation had been rushed and full of holes."

"My big mouth got the better of me—I asked a few more questions, and Magistrate Shao's expression soured. I figured we were colleagues who'd see each other again, so why make him think I was there to stir up trouble? I took off."

"But the second I left Xingtai, someone jumped me."

With that, he rolled up his pant leg with a serious face, revealing the knife wound on his calf as proof of his tall tale.

The wound was clearly nasty—no way he'd done that to himself.

Seeing such a serious injury, the prefects present sucked in their breath one by one.

Their first thought was: Was the traitor Shao mad, or stupid? How dare he try to assassinate an Imperial Official?

But everyone there was a golden child—even when posted to the provinces, they landed in cushy, prosperous spots. None of them had ever served in some remote backwater.

Maybe the border folk were just that tough? Who knows?

Seeing that a few words from him had unsettled everyone present, Le Wuya shot the Seventh Prince a smug, flirtatious look.

The matter of Shao Hongzhen leading the entire county in secretly trafficking opium had only been whispered about in bits and pieces. Most people didn't know the full story, so Le Wuya could spin it any way he wanted.

As for Shao Hongzhen, guilty of heinous crimes, being dragged out after death to polish Le Wuya's reputation—he couldn't exactly object.

Xiang Zhi was holding his wine cup, his gaze locked onto that gruesome scar.

It felt like cotton was stuck in his throat—he tried to swallow, but couldn't, and instead the cotton caught fire, burning all the way into his chest.

He remembered Le Wuya from years ago, drenched in blood, barely alive, fleeing to his rooftop.

Why, even after being reborn, did he still have to hurt and suffer?

At that thought, Xiang Zhi looked at the red mark on Le Wuya's forehead from the bump he'd given him, and regretted it deeply.

Le Wuya was unaware of his thoughts.

Seeing Xiang Zhi expressionless, seemingly absorbed in the story, he grew even more animated, laying it on even thicker.

He blended the chase in Yinjia Village with the ambush by the Liao people into one story, describing how he killed with flower branches, then seized their weapons to kill more, leaving blood and severed heads scattered everywhere.

The prefects naturally thought he was boasting, but Le Wuya had a gift for storytelling that made his tall tales more entertaining than the romantic drama on stage.

Xiang Zhi watched with a cold eye, fully aware of Le Wuya's intentions.

By spinning such wild yarns, even if some refused to believe his unstoppable killing skills, at least they'd believe that he hadn't schemed to seize a colleague's misstep and crush him—rather, that the traitor Shao had been reckless, cornered like a desperate dog, and struck first with murderous intent.

That was the real point.

He was new to the post, with a mountain of work ahead of him—the affairs of Tongzhou Prefecture were already enough to keep him busy. He couldn't afford to have colleagues and superiors getting in his way or freezing him out.

This time, Le Wuya had brought lavish gifts to the banquet, while Little Stutterer had sent Pei Mingqi and Miss Qi to take turns, all to achieve this very goal.

And Le Wuya, as always, wasn't satisfied with just one benefit—he had to squeeze every drop of advantage out of one move.

Though he didn't say it aloud, his eyes practically screamed smug satisfaction:

Am I only good at solving cases, sucking up, and handling colleagues?

I'm dangerous because I know how to kill.

Seeing him putting on airs to intimidate these civil officials, radiating confidence and high spirits, Xiang Zhi could hardly tear his eyes away.

...Looking at such a person, he couldn't keep his thoughts from wandering to him.

While Le Wuya was regaling everyone with his witty tales, the birthday boy, Feng Long, had already learned from his servants that his new subordinate Wenren Mingke and his distinguished guest, the Seventh Prince of the current dynasty, were flirting in his backyard.

However, the distance was too great, and the servants couldn't make out what they were saying, nor did they dare get close enough to eavesdrop.

Feng Long heard the report and was at a loss for words. He massaged his temples, slipped the servant a generous tip, and told him to keep his lips sealed and not breathe a word to anyone.

After sending the grateful servant off, Feng Long turned from his seat at the head of the table and caught sight of Le Wuya laughing and chatting with a bunch of prefects.

He was the life of the party, with everyone hanging on his every word.

A nagging thought crossed his mind:

...Could Wenren Mingke be doing this on purpose?

First, he gives him thoughtful gifts to win him over, then casually lets slip his ties to the Seventh Prince to get him curious...

Not bad—a sharp kid with a bright future, though unlucky to be stuck in Tongzhou.

If he's got real chops and doesn't get dragged under by Tongzhou's mess, then he'll rise like a phoenix, and nothing will stop him.

Lost in thought, Feng Long turned back to the stage, watching the dancers and listening to the sweet songs, and decided:

As his boss, he wouldn't give him a hard time on official business.

He'd just wait and see how far this kid could go.

...

Le Wuya told stories to go with the wine, keeping the prefects laughing and entertained.

...Even if the guy was cocky, he was charmingly so.

Plus the tangled web of connections behind him that was hard to size up at a glance, the prefects all figured this guy was worth getting to know, no matter what.

Even though Le Wuya had a knot on his head from a peanut and was hurting a bit, he'd caught up with an old friend, watched a good show, and told a hell of a story—he'd gotten what he came for and could head home easy.

Xiang Zhi wasn't going with him, and he wasn't heading back with him either.

He'd come under the Xi family's banner and still had to have a serious talk with Lord Feng Long to wrangle more perks for his mother's family.

Before he left, Le Wuya shot a glance from afar at the Little Phoenix.

Maybe because they'd been in sync since they were kids, just one look from him and the Little Phoenix's eyes eagerly chased after him.

His legs tensed, like he wanted to jump up and run over to him.

But he quickly got his heart and eyes in check, looked away, and focused on figuring out how to get Le Wuya a win.

—Tongzhou was too chaotic, the situation murky, especially with the Japanese pirates running wild.

Pei Mingqi didn't want him getting pushed around by the local military brass again, unable to spread his wings.

Surrounded by the local generals, all he heard was people toasting his promotion.

Pei Mingqi smiled, knocked back a big cup of wine, and got a round of cheers.

Even with all the noise around him, he felt down, bored, and lonely.

He wondered, had the little crow from back then ever felt like this?

...

As Le Wuya got to the Feng mansion's gate, a fancy, ornate carriage rolled up.

Seeing the carriage, Le Wuya froze in his tracks.

The driver was someone he knew.

Good-natured, simple Brother Guo scratched his head and flashed Le Wuya a grin.

The carriage curtain flipped up, and there was Qi Hongzhuang's pale, cold face.

She got straight to the point: "I'm done with the banquet and heading back to Tongzhou to look at cloth prices. Times are chaotic—mind if I ride with you, sir?"

Le Wuya blinked, then broke into a big grin: "...Ah."

Wei Yixian, knowing County Princess Qi's esteemed status, naturally nodded without objection.

But Mu Jiazhi furrowed his thick brows into a knot, and while tending to the horses, earnestly advised Le Wuya: "Prefect Wenren, a lone man and a single woman—it's not proper to travel together."

Before Le Wuya could respond, the carriage curtain was lifted again from behind.

Qi Hongzhuang said coolly, "I, this single woman, am not afraid. Are you, this lone man, afraid? If so, please hurry on your way home. If I scare you into some mishap, it would be my fault."

With that, she dropped the curtain and instructed Brother Guo, "Let's go."

Mu Jiazhi, having been sharply rebuked, was full of pent-up frustration with nowhere to vent, so he gritted his teeth and followed in silence.

Wei Yixian couldn't help but secretly laugh at seeing his usually capable colleague put in his place.

By the time the group entered Tongzhou Prefecture, it was already evening.

Oddly enough, after entering the city, Qi Hongzhuang showed no intention of parting ways to check cloth prices but instead followed them slowly toward the government office.

When they were about a hundred steps from the office, Le Wuya's ears twitched sharply.

He heard the sound of an argument drifting from the office entrance.

Mu Jiazhi, sharp-eyed and keen-eared, saw trouble at the gate and raised his hand to charge forward, but Le Wuya grabbed his arm, twisted his wrist, and pressed on his tendons. As Mu Jiazhi's wrist went weak with pain, Le Wuya deftly pulled him off his horse.

This was a close-combat technique Le Wuya had learned on the battlefield years ago—a killing move.

He himself leaped down, and while Mu Jiazhi was still unsteady, he said to Brother Guo, "Please, drag him into the carriage."

Brother Guo frowned, but obediently and skillfully covered Mu Jiazhi's mouth and pushed him into Qi Hongzhuang's carriage.

Le Wuya then grabbed Wei Yixian and pulled him off his horse as well.

Once done, twice familiar—Brother Guo moved more swiftly this time, following the same method, quietly and neatly stuffing him into the carriage as well.

Le Wuya instructed, "Brother, please gather the three horses and don't let anyone notice anything amiss. Slowly drive the carriage over, no rush."

Brother Guo acknowledged with an "Aye," and Le Wuya slipped nimbly into the carriage.

Fortunately, the carriage was luxurious and spacious, like a small room, so even with three grown men crammed in, there was still plenty of room to sit.

Qi Hongzhuang kept that cold look on her face, merely setting the plate of grapes aside and spitting the grape skins from her mouth into a little basin.

Mu Jiazhi, who entered first, went beet red and gritted his teeth to ask Le Wuya: "Lord Prefect, can I ask why we're being so sneaky?"

Le Wuya made a shushing gesture at him.

The commotion at the prefectural office gate was kicking up a racket, and no one noticed this little ruckus a hundred paces off.

As the carriage drew closer, the content of the argument gradually became clearer.

Three or four guys who looked like officers, accompanied by some twenty-odd soldiers, were blocking the office gate, hollering at the top of their lungs.

"Another IOU?" someone yelled at the top of his lungs, "Damn it, they're bleeding us soldiers dry!"

"We work the fields day and night, busting our backs—are we soldiers or beggars? Even beggars get to hear a coin clink!"

Soon, Le Wuya understood.

It was about unpaid army wages—the junior officers had brought their men to demand their pay from him.

He cracked the carriage curtain open a sliver and peered out.

Standing at the office gate were Wei Qi, the ex-clerk of the military affairs office, and Qin Xingyue, the current one.

Le Wuya had put Qin Xingyue in charge of military affairs, so when this mob showed up raising hell, Wei Qi naturally told Qin Xingyue it was his job to handle it and send those troublemakers packing.

Wei Qi, seeing that Qin Xingyue was a quiet, gloomy cripple, figured he was a pushover.

But to his surprise, Qin Xingyue was totally unruffled, saying Wei Qi hadn't finished handing over the military affairs to him yet—he didn't know how much was owed, or even if anything was owed at all.

Let 'em raise hell; if blood ends up splattered all over the office, he'd be happy to arrange their funerals.

When Lord Wenren gets back, they'd see who he blamed for screwing up.

Wei Qi hadn't figured this guy for such a tough cookie, and stuck with no options and the racket outside getting worse, he had to step out and handle the mob himself.

As the carriage passed by, Le Wuya heard Wei Qi explaining earnestly: "The lord just got here, with a million things to sort out and no clear handle on things yet. Even if you want your pay, don't pick now—go home and wait a few days, and you'll get your due!"

One soldier angrily retorted: "The lord just got here, yet he's got money to send gifts and congratulate officials on their birthdays, but claims he's got no money for our wages—who'd believe that?"

No sooner were these words spoken than a chorus of agreement erupted all around.

Good.

Wei Yixian nodded approvingly, his brows and eyes subtly shifting as he cast a sidelong glance at Le Wuya, curious to see how he would react.

But to his surprise, after a brief moment of stunned silence, the guy turned his head and snorted out a laugh.

Wei Yixian: "..."

What the heck's going on?

Author's note:

Yaya: I just remembered something funny.