Chapter 143: The Game (Part 2)

"You're going to take Chiliarch Zhang's money to supplement the military pay?" Yuan Zijin strained to wrap his newly sharpened mind around it. "But that wouldn't be enough, would it? How much can he give you—a few thousand taels?"

Le Wuya said bluntly, "He can't. Does he look stupid to you?"

He took a sip of tea, doing a quick mental calculation: "After he goes back and consults with the other guards and battalions, after pooling everyone's resources, he might scrape together two or three thousand taels for me."

Yuan Zijin cut in urgently, "The Dayu Law states—"

Le Wuya propped his chin on his fan, eyes smiling as he looked at him: "Not bad—you actually know the Dayu Law now?"

Yuan Zijin got the words out, then completely froze.

How was he supposed to know which article of the Dayu Law covered punishment for official bribery?

"...The Dayu Law definitely says officials can't accept bribes. You—you don't want your official post, and you don't want your life either?"

Le Wuya hummed: "Life is a good thing, no doubt."

"Exactly." Yuan Zijin pressed both hands on the desk, leaning in so earnestly he was almost nose-to-nose with Le Wuya, "Don't take their money. Just do your own job and stay out of trouble! If that doesn't work out, I'll write to my father. Isn't it money you need? My father keeps me on a tight leash—I can't get tens of thousands, but a few hundred taels shouldn't be a problem. But you'll have to write to him personally, or he definitely won't believe it. He might even think I'm up to my old tricks and planning to sneak off to a brothel..."

Le Wuya fanned himself lazily, listening to him ramble on beside him. After a long while, he suddenly asked an unrelated question: "Hey, Yuan Xiao'er, why did you pick a fight with Lord Yue Huai Jin on the main street back then?"

Yuan Zijin had talked himself dry, never expecting Le Wuya to change the subject and catch him off guard.

He blinked his peach-blossom eyes, with that usual vacant look of his: "...Why ask about that?"

Le Wuya said: "From Shangjing to Nanting, and now Tongzhou, you're a bit dim and have no manners, but I've never seen you throw your weight around. Why do you have it out for the Yue family?"

Yuan Zijin had been exiled to the frontier precisely because of this matter. That hit a nerve, and he said indignantly, "It's all because of that Le Wuya?!"

Le Wuya himself: ...Me?!

He gave Yuan Zijin a serious once-over: "Did he offend you?"

"No." Yuan Zijin shook his head. "I was just a kid when he died."

"Did he offend your father?"

"No." Yuan Zijin shook his head. "My father's got nothing good to say about that man!"

"Then what did he do wrong?"

"He betrayed the emperor's favor!" Yuan Zijin said matter-of-factly. "The emperor treated him so well—promoting him to such a high rank at a young age, the peak of honor and favor—yet he committed several grave crimes. That just goes to show he's ungrateful!"

Le Wuya said, puzzled, "But what's that got to do with the Yue family? As far as I know, the emperor didn't pursue the Yue family, which clearly shows the Yue family had nothing to do with Le Wuya's crimes, right?"

Yuan Zijin didn't like that one bit.

He said fiercely, "How is it unrelated? There's not one good person in the whole Yue family!"

Le Wuya raised an eyebrow.

Thinking back to what happened on the main street, he realized Yuan Zijin had indeed cursed the Yue family more than anyone else.

...Even the insults aimed at Le Wuya himself were almost an afterthought.

"How so?"

"You don't know?" Yuan Zijin looked incredulous. "Le Wuya was a kid they kidnapped from the Jing tribe!"

Le Wuya: "..."

If he was reading this right...

Yuan Zijin was actually sticking up for him?

Yuan Zijin got angrier as he spoke, burning with righteous indignation: "Even if he was the son of an enemy nation, kidnapping a child and tearing them from their parents is inhumane and utterly cruel! If you've got the guts, meet on the battlefield and settle it with swords—why use such underhanded tricks?!"

"Back then, my father gave me two choices. First was to study under Yue Huai Jin. I didn't even hesitate—I picked the second."

He puffed out his chest: "I'd rather die than work for the Yue family!"

Just as Yuan Zijin was in the middle of his grand speech, someone patted his head.

Yuan Zijin looked baffled: "...Why are you touching me?"

Le Wuya said nothing.

The events of that year were far too tangled, with grudges and debts impossible to sort out—how could outsiders ever understand?

If he explained the whole thing, even a blockhead like Yuan Zijin would catch on.

So Le Wuya thought for a moment, then made something up on the fly: "Because you're cute."

Hearing this, Yuan Zijin jumped back several feet as if scalded: "Wha—what are you doing? I only like girls! Stay away from me!"

Le Wuya burst out laughing.

Yuan Zijin felt even more bewildered, standing with arms crossed until Le Wuya finished laughing, then asked from a distance: "Are you going to write to my father or not? If not, you won't even get those few hundred taels!"

As the two faced off, Assistant Prefect Mu came hurrying in.

"I could hear the laughter from way off." Mu Jiazhi got straight to the point. "I assume you've rested enough, my lord?"

Le Wuya nodded good-naturedly.

"Good."

Mu Jiazhi waved behind him, and a clerk from the penal section led a group of clerks inside, carrying bundles of records tied with green silk cords: "These are the key criminal case files from Tongzhou over the past year. I've sorted them—closed cases are tied with green and red cords, pending ones with green and yellow. If you have time, you may review them."

Yuan Zijin stared at the mountain of files and felt his head spin.

They hadn't even settled the military pay issue, and now they were moving on to something else?

He blurted out: "Isn't this a bit much? It makes sense to review the pending ones, but why bring in the closed cases as well? Assistant Prefect Mu, are you trying to make things difficult on purpose?"

Mu Jiazhi said coolly, "For the closed cases, I prepared a categorized summary last night. If you want to see the original files, you can; if not, just read the summary. And if you can't even be bothered to do that, it's entirely up to you, my lord. And besides..."

He paused slightly.

Le Wuya: "Assistant Prefect Mu, speak plainly. All this beating around the bush is uncomfortable for both of us."

Since Le Wuya was willing to listen, Mu Jiazhi felt bold enough to speak: "I believe His Majesty, in his infinite grace, specially appointed Prefect Wenren to come here. Surely Prefect Wenren must have abilities beyond the ordinary."

Le Wuya tossed his head proudly: "Of course."

Mu Jiazhi: "..."

Normally, this is the part where you're supposed to say something modest.

But he was buried in paperwork and didn't have time to haggle over petty details with Le Wuya.

He clasped his hands in a bow and turned to go.

Le Wuya called him back: "Assistant Prefect Mu."

Mu Jiazhi answered flatly, "What does Your Excellency need?"

Le Wuya flipped through the report he'd handed over: "Is the case of the former Prefect Qian Shihui among these?"

A flicker of unease crossed Mu Jiazhi's face: "Your Excellency, Prefect Qian died from a drunken misstep; it's not a criminal matter..."

"Then Lord Mu hasn't been thorough enough in his paperwork," said Le Wuya. "Within the year, draw up a report on all cases involving loss of life in the prefecture and bring it to me."

Seeing that Le Wuya wasn't the type to slack off and just joke around, Mu Jiazhi's iron-hard frown actually loosened a bit: "...Yes."

"Go and compile it," Le Wuya waved a hand. "Send it over when done. Then I'll test you on it."

Mu Jiazhi had barely walked out the door when Wei Yixian walked in.

Unlike Mu Jiazhi's sourpuss face, Wei Yixian had a warm, easygoing manner that felt like a spring breeze.

He handled troop pay, grain and finances, river defense, farming, forestry, and water management. Just yesterday, soldiers had shown up demanding their wages; today he'd pulled together the prefecture's financial records and come to report.

Tongzhou had long grown rice and wheat in rotation, getting two harvests a year.

Ever since the imperial merchant Xi family got rich off cotton yarn, the locals smelled opportunity and jumped on the bandwagon. Weaving shops and dye houses popped up like mushrooms after a rain.

In the prefectural capital alone, there were over two hundred small weaving and dyeing workshops.

Growing mulberry and hemp, spinning yarn, and weaving cloth were basically Tongzhou's economic lifeline.

"Silkworms eat mulberry leaves, but people can't. Human lives are worth less than a bunch of silkworms and bugs..." Wei Yixian sighed. "What's to be done?"

Yuan Zijin, standing nearby, got even more anxious listening to him moan about the hardships.

This Tongzhou was a real quagmire!

Tongzhou didn't produce much grain to begin with, and after paying imperial taxes, there was barely anything left.

Even if you tried to pay the soldiers in cotton cloth and yarn, it wouldn't do any good.

If they kept the yarn for themselves, it couldn't feed anyone or quench thirst—no way to support a family. If they tried to sell it, without knowing the market, they'd get ripped off. And if they had someone sell it for them, that someone would skim a cut.

No wonder the local soldiers would rather let their pay go into arrears—they wanted actual silver and grain.

After hearing Wei Yixian's report, Le Wuya asked, "How much grain is in the prefectural granary?"

"Eight thousand dan of rice and four thousand dan of wheat."

Yuan Zijin was confused.

Doesn't the prefecture have grain? Why not hand it out?

The next moment, Wei Yixian answered the question on his mind: "But that grain is set aside for disaster relief and keeping prices stable—it's the backbone of the granary. And at one dan per soldier per month, all that rice and wheat would only cover one month's pay."

"Even one month's worth is still something. Why wasn't it handed out before?"

Wei Yixian lowered his head and said meekly: "Forgive me for speaking plainly. Even though my superiors told me to act as prefect in the meantime, I knew that if I took it upon myself to hand out the granary's reserves before the new prefect arrived, you'd surely blame me for leaving you with nothing to work with. Better to wait until you take office and decide for yourself—whether to hand it out or keep it, it's all up to you."

Le Wuya looked at him: "You're honest."

"You flatter me, Your Excellency; I don't deserve such praise." Wei Yixian added, "There's also a thousand bolts of raw cloth sitting in the granary..."

Le Wuya: "Leave them there for now."

Wei Yixian's eyes flickered: "Then, Your Excellency, I'll go back and think of other ways to make up the pay shortfall as soon as possible."

The second Wei Yixian left, Yuan Zijin, who'd been playing the good little boy the whole time, couldn't hold it in anymore: "Lord Wei seems like a decent guy."

Le Wuya: "What makes you say that?"

"At least he offered some ideas," said Yuan Zijin, who couldn't stand Mu Jiazhi's smug attitude toward Le Wuya and didn't hold back. "Unlike that Assistant Prefect Mu—his eyes are practically on top of his head, but he hasn't got a single idea and just dumps work on you!"

"What ideas? Using the reserve grain to pay the troops, or selling the stored cloth for cash?"

Le Wuya asked Yuan Zijin: "Half the year's already gone. If the harvest comes up short, or a disaster hits and we're desperate for grain, and we've got zero reserves—guess who takes the fall?"

Yuan Zijin was stunned: "Me..."

"If we use cloth to pay wages, with that much raw cloth flooding the market, prices would tank. Weaving and selling cloth is Tongzhou's lifeline. Competing with the people for profit and cutting off their livelihood—who suffers then?"

...So, the two money-making ideas Wei Yixian had just laid out were actually both roads to disaster?

Yuan Zijin could hardly believe it: "How is he so rotten?"

"How is he rotten?" Le Wuya shot back. "Did he force me to do any of it? Whether it's paying troops in grain or trading cloth for silver, he just mentioned it in passing—and even warned that handing out grain would come with consequences. If the higher-ups really looked into it, who'd take the blame then?"

Yuan Zijin mulled it over for a long time, his hair standing on end.

Three prefects in a row had all come to bad ends, yet Wei Yixian stood like an evergreen, unshaken in Tongzhou the whole time.

Could this... really be a coincidence?

For the first time in his life, Yuan Zijin got a gut-level understanding of what "political infighting" really meant.

As the pretty picture in his head started to fall apart, Le Wuya, meanwhile, was cheerfully humming a tune from some opera: "You two got it wrong, mistaking a tiger for a cat; when my luck turns around, I'll draw my sword and slay—"

Just then, Qin Xingyue knocked and came in.

"Our Chief Clerk Qin is here." Le Wuya reached out a hand to him with a kid-like grin. "Got any good news for me?"

Qin Xingyue pressed his lips together quietly.

Prefect Wenren really did look like the young general.

He said seriously, "Zhang Ashan came to see me."

Le Wuya let out an "oh."

...That chiliarch he'd just shaken down for a bribe.

He asked point-blank, "After he saw you, who did he go to next?"

Qin Xingyue's eyes lit up a little.

The more time he spent with Wen Ren Ming Ke, the more he saw the young general in him—and the more he missed those bright, carefree days of his youth.

A single glance, no words needed, and they knew exactly what the other would do next.

That kind of unspoken understanding and comfort was truly a long-lost feeling.

Qin Xingyue lowered his head, reining in his churning emotions, and reported softly: "Chiliarch Zhang was taken away by Wei Yixian's men to see the imprisoned soldiers. They chatted and laughed along the way, quite intimate."

Yuan Zijin forced himself not to hold prejudice against Wei Yixian, and imitating Le Wuya's manner, analyzed objectively and fairly: "Isn't Wei Yixian in charge of finances? If the Chiliarch is close to him and shares a few laughs, that's... not necessarily a problem, I guess..."

Le Wuya twirled the tassel of his fan: "What's my relationship with you? Your monthly silver and grain are still distributed by me. But if that soldier demanding back pay hadn't called it out on the spot, would you have known that the birthday gift I sent to Lord Feng was the Eastern Han Dynasty's imperial seal?"

Before Yuan Zijin could react, Qin Xingyue frowned slightly: "You mean..."

"Before giving the gift to Lord Feng, I mentioned it to no one." Le Wuya said leisurely, "The words left his mouth and reached only my ears and Hua Rong's—no one else knew. How did that soldier come to know?"

The other two nodded in agreement.

Hua Rong, young but clever, had been indulged for his cleverness and had his moments of recklessness.

But after the incident with the wandering beggars, he had gone through a life-and-death ordeal, and under Scholar Ming's guidance, he had since become extremely tight-lipped—a fact known throughout the Nan Ting county office.

Yuan Zijin recalled how the soldiers had stormed the office yesterday, when he had approached Le Wuya to strike up a conversation only to be scolded instead, and what Le Wuya had muttered—he felt a chill run down his spine even in the height of summer.

He asked in a low voice: "Was it... was it Wei Yixian who stirred up the soldiers to come to the office and demand their pay?"

Wei Yixian had voluntarily offered the precious seal as a birthday gift to Lord Feng, painting a facade of peace and harmony, yet behind the scenes used the birthday gift as a weapon to provoke the soldiers into causing a scene, carefully gauging the size of the disturbance so that even Wen Ren Mingke couldn't come down hard on the troublemakers.

The next day, he came to them with a calm expression and earnest words, offering up his "suggestions."

Each strategy had its flaws, and if followed, Tongzhou would surely descend into chaos...

Yuan Zijin clenched his fists, furious: "Wen Ren Mingke, how can you let that Wei guy push you around? He's out there spouting nonsense and ruining your reputation—you can do the same! Just say the seal is his, and see how he can still stir up trouble among his subordinates!"

"The seal was a gift from Lord Wei for the birthday celebration—it genuinely got me out of a tight spot." Le Wuya said, "If I went around shouting about it, guess what Lord Feng would think of me once word got back to him?"

Yuan Zijin opened his mouth, then closed it, speechless.

Right.

Lord Feng, a veteran of officialdom for years, likely knew well that the birthday gift had been prepared with help from others for Wen Ren Mingke.

But such things, once brought into the open, lose their appeal—and what gets hurt is Feng Long's pride.

If Lord Feng were to return the gift, Le Wuya would be utterly humiliated.

"Be careful." Le Wuya twirled his fan, "Blades from outside can be dodged, but those from within strike harder—they won't stop until they've taken a life or two."

In contrast to Yuan Zijin's anxious pacing, Qin Xingyue was more composed: "Sir, what should we do next?"

Le Wuya chuckled, turning to Yuan Zijin: "Little Tiger, have you done today's lessons?"

Yuan Zijin, his blood still boiling, knew that no matter how strong his fists were, he couldn't drag Wei Yixian over and beat him senseless. Hearing this, he stood up, intending to grab Zhong Piaoping and head to the training grounds to work off his restless energy.

Just as he reached the door, Yuan Zijin suddenly realized something, turned back, and brandished his fist at Le Wuya in indignation: "Don't call me Little Tiger! And don't you dare call my dad Old Tiger either! I only thought of it last night when I went to bed—who gave you permission to be so disrespectful to my father?!"

Le Wuya calmly smoothed his robes: "No problem at all."

Yuan Zijin stared at Le Wuya, mouth slightly agape, suddenly feeling a pang of pity for him.

He had seen how celebrated Le Wuya was in Nan Ting, with everyone fawning over him.

Being exiled to this godforsaken place full of scheming people—his heart must be heavy with sorrow.

With that thought, Yuan Zijin lowered his fist and folded his hands behind his back: "...Just show my father some respect. Calling me Little Tiger... that's not completely off the table."

With that, the little tiger turned and ran off.

Le Wuya watched Yuan Zijin's retreating figure, took a sip of tea, and noticed his hand trembling slightly.

...So excited, it had come to this.

Within Tongzhou Prefecture, there was himself, Wei Yixian, and Mu Jiazhi.

Three men standing like a tripod, three powers divided—if he wanted to consolidate power into his own hands, he would inevitably need to mend relations with these two.

Wei Yixian's methods were indeed carefully orchestrated.

First, he gave an expensive antique as a birthday present.

Then, he stirred up the soldiers to demand back pay, publicly exposing that Le Wuya had money to suck up to his superiors but none to pay his men.

The next day, he came in person, offering two bad ideas to use the treasury to cover the arrears—but in truth, it was a trap, waiting for Le Wuya to walk right in.

These tricks might fool Yuan Zijin, but they couldn't fool any old hand who'd spent more than three years in officialdom.

Le Wuya didn't believe that Wei Yixian could dominate Tongzhou and remain unshaken merely through such relentless petty provocations.

Deliberately exposing so many small weaknesses to him, Wei Yixian had only one purpose.

—To make Le Wuya wary of this "villainous man," thereby strengthening his resolve to wholeheartedly win over the pragmatic and diligent Mu Jiazhi.

Wei Yixian, Lord Wei, what's your next move?

Le Wuya's heart churned like a storm, yet his face remained as calm as a mountain.

He said to Qin Xingyue: "Everyone stick to their duties. Don't act rashly."

Qin Xingyue: "Lord Wei is causing such a stir—can we really just ignore it?"

"Better to stay still than to move. The more you do, the more mistakes you make." Le Wuya rose, picked up a criminal case file tied with blue and yellow silk cords, and gave it a light pat with his palm. "Besides, he's only 'stirring up a breeze' now, not yet 'raising the waves.' His real skills haven't shown themselves yet—how could I be so hasty as to make the first move?"