Chapter 164: A Gift

News of Wei Yixian's downfall reached the capital without causing much of a ripple.

A fifth-rank official who could rule the roost locally was, in the capital, nothing but a small fish, a tiny shrimp—alive or dead, he wouldn't make a ripple.

But for the officials of Tongzhou Prefecture, this was an earthquake.

Zheng Miao and Le Wuya worked hand in glove, keeping the news under wraps.

By the time the two sub-prefectures and twelve counties got wind of it, Wei Yixian had already been eating prison grub for three full days.

Previously, all the officials of Tongzhou Prefecture knew that Lord Wei had the military in one hand and personnel appointments in the other. Three prefects in a row had fallen, yet he was still standing—which showed just how formidable he was.

The Prefects and County Magistrates naturally put their money on him, and took a wait-and-see stance toward the newly promoted Prefect, wondering if he was a go-getter who'd go head-to-head with Lord Wei, or a savvy, flexible "smart official" who knew when to bend.

At first, Le Wuya seemed to be the latter.

To the officials of the two sub-prefectures and twelve counties, Prefect Wenren was a bit of a mystery—like a dragon that showed its head but never its tail.

After taking office, he didn't go after power aggressively, and he didn't rush to call all the officials in for a meeting. He just had each prefecture send in reports summarizing their local situation.

To this day, they still hadn't managed to meet the new Prefect face to face.

Some used official business as an excuse to visit the Tongzhou Prefectural office, hoping to get on the new Prefect's good side.

But all they got was Assistant Prefect Wei or Assistant Prefect Mu.

Ming Ke just holed up in his office, not pushing any big reforms.

In his first month on the job, the only thing he did was pay out of his own pocket to train a garrison force.

His low-key style put the officials of Tongzhou Prefecture at ease.

They planned to wait until Prefect Wenren made his move, then figure out his style from that.

Then they could respond accordingly and everyone would come out ahead.

But while they were all watching and waiting, they watched Lord Wei die.

Awkward.

The key thing was, on the surface, none of this had anything to do with the new Prefect.

It was as if the Prefect had done nothing at all, and Wei Yixian had just bounced around like a fool until he did himself in.

But for these sharp cookies to believe Wei Yixian's downfall had nothing to do with the new Prefect—no way.

While the lower-ranking officials lay awake at night, racking their brains over what the new Prefect had done to Wei Yixian, Le Wuya was humming "The Mouse Marries Off His Daughter," happily working on a return gift for Zhi Jie.

Jiang He had hung around Tongzhou all this time—he couldn't just be left waiting for nothing.

Xiaoliu's gift had been so thoughtful; he should return the favor.

Lately, Le Wuya had gotten into playing chess with Yuan Zijin.

He was famously terrible at chess, and now he'd met Yuan Zijin, who was even worse—it was like hitting the jackpot.

Yuan Zijin's chess was sloppy, but he took it dead seriously, often thinking for ages before confidently making a move that was basically suicide.

While Yuan Zijin pondered his moves, Le Wuya would steal a moment to pick up a little hammer and tap away, putting the finishing touches on his gift.

Yuan Zijin was rolling the pieces in his bowl, trying to decide where to put his next move.

Seeing this, he grumbled, "Pay attention!"

Le Wuya didn't look up: "Cut it out. Think about your next move."

These past days—whether waiting for the case to break or while Zheng Miao was investigating—he'd been squeezing in time like this, bit by bit, to make his gift.

"Cheapskate." Yuan Zijin eyed his gift. "Are you that broke?"

"Broke." Le Wuya said matter-of-factly. "Weren't you going to write your dad for money? Why not go all the way—I'll write a ransom note myself and have Old Tiger Yuan come pick you up. That way you go home, I get the money—win-win."

Yuan Zijin threw a chess piece at him, snapping, "Don't call my dad that!"

Le Wuya caught the piece mid-air, palmed it, and played with it for a moment: "Can't stand to be away from me?"

"Bullshit!" Yuan Zijin flushed red. "My dad wants me to make something of myself before I go back. If I slink back to the capital with my tail between my legs, what would that look like?"

Le Wuya: "How about I make you a squad leader?"

Yuan Zijin instinctively rolled his eyes.

Halfway through the roll, he froze. "...What did you say?"

Le Wuya looked down at his gift: "Yesterday, the useless garrison soldiers were sent back. When the new guys come, pick twelve and be their squad leader. Can you handle it?"

"Yes!" Hearing this, Yuan Zijin got excited right away. He dropped the chess game, jumped up, and paced around the room twice, clutching the chess piece, his cheeks flushed with joy.

After thinking it over, he asked Le Wuya, "Do I have to pick from the new garrison soldiers? Can't I pick twelve from the current bunch?"

Because he was good at arm wrestling, Yuan Zijin had gotten along great with the current garrison soldiers.

"No." Le Wuya refused flat out. "You're too buddy-buddy with them—they'd be hard to manage."

For the first time, Yuan Zijin didn't argue back right away.

He thought for a moment, then nodded: "I get it."

Le Wuya glanced at him, giving a barely noticeable nod: "How you handle them is your business. I have only one requirement: of the twelve new guys, you can keep at most six."

Yuan Zijin got anxious: "Why?"

Le Wuya said calmly, "Little tiger, figure it out yourself."

With that, he lowered his head again and went back to work on his gift.

The new garrison soldiers were still a mixed bag.

How Yuan Zijin sized people up, how he used them, and how he chose among them—that was another test Le Wuya had set for him.

Would he value skill over character?

Would he be blinded by bootlickers, or could he see past the surface to what was really there?

It remained to be seen how he'd choose and what he'd give up.

“I still can't quite grasp what you mean.” Yuan Zijin said after a moment of thought, crisply. “But I'll do as you say.”

With that, he returned to the chessboard and made a move with unwavering determination: “Just you wait and see!”

Le Wuya surveyed the board, smiled faintly, and nonchalantly set down a piece: “Alright, you've lost. Go attend to your business.”

Yuan Zijin: “……”

……

While Yuan Zijin threw himself into his new project, handpicking his team members, Jiang He received the gift from Le Wuya, bid farewell to Tongzhou, and headed back to the capital.

By the time he arrived, autumn had settled in.

Though the grass had not yet withered, the lotus flowers in the moat had already begun to fade, with only a few patches of green remaining.

Jiang He drove the carriage across the moat and showed his travel papers and ID badge to the guards at the city gate.

However, after inspecting them, the guards huddled together and whispered among themselves, and then one of them took Jiang He's credentials and walked away without a word.

Jiang He: ?

After about the time it takes to steep a cup of tea, a gate captain sauntered over.

“Guard Jiang.” He cut right to the chase. “Grab your things and come along with us.”

……

Jiang He was led directly into Shouren Hall, where he found himself face-to-face with the emperor without any warning.

As soon as he saw Jiang He, Xiang Zheng broke into a gentle, kindly smile: “Back from Tongzhou, are we?”

Jiang He was somewhat puzzled.

This was his first audience with the emperor, so why was His Majesty speaking to him in such a familiar tone?

As if they had known each other for a long time.

He was so preoccupied with this thought that he completely missed the hidden implication in the emperor's words.

While inwardly perplexed, Jiang He clasped his hands and said, “Yes. Your Majesty sees clearly; this humble servant has just returned from Tongzhou.”

Xiang Zheng watched Jiang He's face carefully and noticed that, under his prodding, he carried himself with easy composure, showing no signs of fear or a furrowed brow.

…Xiaoliu chose this man to serve in the prince's household—he's got a good eye.

Entering Shouren Hall alongside Jiang He was Le Wuya's gift.

It was a big chest about six feet long, so big it took two eunuchs to carry it in.

Xiang Zheng didn't open the chest right away to check its contents, but instead asked Jiang He about the local customs and sights in Tongzhou.

Apart from running a few shady errands for Le Wuya, Jiang He had spent the rest of his time wandering around Tongzhou, so he fielded most questions without missing a beat. Even when there were a few he didn't know, he frankly admitted his ignorance, frank and aboveboard, without a hint of evasion.

After they'd talked for about fifteen minutes, a eunuch announced: “Your Majesty, the Sixth Prince has arrived.”

Xiang Zheng waved a hand dismissively: “Have him come in.”

Zhi Jie stepped into the study and, upon seeing Jiang He there, a flash of surprise crossed his face.

But the surprise vanished as quickly as it came.

He bowed and said, “I came as you called, Father.”

Xiang Zheng sat cross-legged on the daybed, propped against a small table, and studied him carefully: “Zhi Jie, you're dressed too lightly. You've just gotten over a bad illness—don't go catching a chill.”

Zhi Jie said mildly, “Thank you for your concern, Father.”

Xiang Zheng gestured at the chest with the scroll in his hand: “Do you know what that is?”

Zhi Jie knew full well, but he could not say so.

He shook his head quietly.

“Your guard went to Tongzhou and brought back this big chest. When I heard about it, I got curious and had it brought in for a look.” Xiang Zheng said in a jesting tone. “Let me see what my little sixth and my able minister have been slipping each other on the sly.”

At these words, a slight twitch at Zhi Jie's brow, but he hid the shift in his expression well.

Xiang Zheng knew his son was a heavy-hearted one—outwardly polished and polite, but in reality a man who never let his feelings show.

So he turned his attention to Jiang He.

An ordinary guard, upon hearing such veiled barbs, would have cold sweat break out from the nape of his neck all the way down to his heels in an instant.

Even if he didn't immediately kneel and beg forgiveness, he would be shaking in his boots, terrified out of his wits.

But Jiang He completely missed the seriousness of what was being said.

He stood there calmly, hands at his sides, looking perfectly at ease, thinking: the Sixth Prince must have hurried over in such a rush that he didn't have time to dress warmly. If Ru Feng knew, he'd probably start fussing over him again.

The emperor could discern nothing from Jiang He's solemn and serious expression, so he shot Xue Jie a look.

Xue Jie took the hint and opened the wax-sealed wooden chest to inspect it beforehand.

Upon seeing what was inside, his eyebrows shot up, as if he had encountered something unexpected.

Then Xue Jie summoned two young eunuchs to carefully lift the thing out of the chest.

When the full picture of the object appeared before Xiang Zheng's eyes, he too was stunned.

Inside was neither gold, jade, jewelry, nor antique paintings or calligraphy.

…It was a small thatched hut, about five feet long and three feet high.

The “hut's” four sides were nailed together with tung-oil-coated wooden planks, topped with a covering of wormwood.

Due to the bumpy journey, despite Jiang He's utmost care, some of the wormwood had fallen off.

Fortunately, Le Wuya had used ample materials, layering the roof thickly inside and out, so the structure remained intact.

The “roof” was not attached to the “four walls” of the hut.

Two eunuchs, one on each side, lifted the “roof” off together.

At the sight of that, Zhi Jie's brow furrowed slightly despite himself.

It pained him.

His teacher's gift to him—was being taken apart like this?

Inside the thatched hut lay a world unto itself.

It was divided into a dozen or so rooms and structures, with crisscrossing fields and winding waterways.

Among them were many small wooden figures, roughly carved with no discernible faces, distinguished only by their headwear and ornaments.

Scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants; fishermen, woodcutters, tillers, and readers; peddlers, laborers, and cart-pullers.

These people, within this tiny realm, each went about their own affairs, peaceful and self-content.

Xiang Zheng gazed at it for a long while, was surprised, yet found it quite intriguing: "Aside from this little hut, is there anything else?"

Xue Jie replied, "Your Majesty, there's a letter."

He carefully took out a letter from the bottom of the wooden chest and respectfully presented it to the emperor.

Xiang Zheng unsealed the letter and spread it open.

The handwriting was remarkably elegant and neat, matching exactly the handwriting on Wen Ren Ming Ke's memorials, clearly written in his own hand.

This letter had no salutation and no signature, only nine characters, written with great care.

"To shelter all the world's poor scholars under a great roof, bringing joy to their faces."

Xiang Zheng clapped his hands joyfully: "Excellent! What a noble ambition, what an exemplary official!"

He smiled as he looked at Xiang Zhi Jie: "Zhi Jie, what do you think?"

Xiang Zhi Jie replied, "Wen Ren's devotion to the people is truly moving."

The emperor replied with a smile, "A heart for the people is certainly moving, but that he would show such good intentions to you shows even greater loyalty."

Xiang Zhi Jie bowed his head.

He couldn't respond to that.

The term loyalty was reserved for officials toward the emperor; how could there be talk of loyalty to a prince?

Meanwhile, Jiang He's lips twitched slightly.

His face expressionless, he suddenly understood.

...So this was what Prefect Wenren had meant when he gave him those instructions as he left Tongzhou.

Xiang Zheng keenly noticed Jiang He's slight movement: "Guard Jiang, do you have something to add?"

"Yes." Jiang He clasped his hands in salute and answered distinctly, "Before we parted, Prefect Wenren personally instructed me that this gift was not for the Sixth Prince, but was respectfully presented to Your Majesty."

Xiang Zheng raised an eyebrow. "...Oh?"

Jiang He repeated Le Wuya's words: "Prefect Wenren said, he made this object intending for me to give it to the Sixth Prince, who would then present it to Your Majesty in his place. He said that from a humble County Magistrate, he rose to become Prefect of Tongzhou, all thanks to Your Majesty's trust. He vowed to take 'to shelter all the world's poor scholars under a great roof, bringing joy to their faces' as his mission, striving with all his might, never failing that deep grace."

Of course, Jiang He, though slow-witted, was no fool.

He skipped over the latter half of Le Wuya's words.

"You've stayed in Tongzhou too long; the capital's gates are heavily guarded, and with a little attention, it's not hard to notice you've been away from the capital for a long time. I had to make this time-consuming and laborious object to explain your extended stay here. When you return, have the Sixth Prince present this to the emperor, and let the emperor decide what to do with it."

Jiang He was a little worried: "But if the emperor actually keeps it, and the Sixth Prince loses his gift, wouldn't that be too pitiful?"

Le Wuya smiled with certainty: "The emperor, though he claims to be frugal, would never take a liking to my humble craftsmanship. When it's time to be generous, he'll be generous."

Sure enough, after hearing Jiang He's account and carefully examining the nine characters "to shelter all the world's poor scholars under a great roof, bringing joy to their faces," finding no specific mention of the Sixth Prince in it, and unable to find any fault with it, the smile at the corners of Xiang Zheng's mouth gradually became genuine: "Zhi Jie, you and Xiao Qi have truly excellent judgment."

Xiang Zhi Jie, through Jiang He's brief words, had already guessed Le Wuya's true intention.

He nodded in agreement, and beyond that, said nothing more.

Xiang Zheng said, "Since he is an official you value, this object is given to you as a gift. I hope you will keep these nine characters in mind, and also the words of the sages, and after achieving your goals, never forget to bring benefits to the people."

Xiang Zhi Jie bowed respectfully: "Yes. I will follow Your Majesty's teachings."

...

In the end, this gift that had traveled so far, after all its twists and turns, ended up back at the Sixth Prince's mansion.

Back at the mansion, Xiang Zhi Jie first chose to calm Jiang He's nerves: "Guard Jiang, you must have been frightened."

Jiang He spoke truthfully: "Sixth Prince, I wasn't frightened."

Seeing that Jiang He indeed appeared calm, without any sign of alarm, Xiang Zhi Jie lowered his head and fiddled with the thatch at the edge of the hut, a smile spreading across the corners of his mouth: "These past days, has he been busy with this?"

Jiang He replied calmly, "Yes. Prefect Wenren also explained to me what each of these carved figures was meant to be."

Xiang Zhi Jie looked at them one by one, and his heart suddenly skipped a beat.

He noticed a rather unusual little wooden figure.

Compared to the others, this figure seemed to have no particular occupation, lying in the corner of a room, neatly tucked under a small quilt made from a brocade handkerchief.

He pointed at the figure: "What is this one supposed to be?"

"Oh. Prefect Wenren said this one is a sick person," Jiang He said. "He explained, 'If you don't take care of your health in peacetime, you'll be taking care of a doctor when you're sick.' He hopes the patient will recover peacefully and not cause worry or grief to those who care for him."

Xiang Zhi Jie carefully picked up the little figure from its bed and held it in his palm.

Bringing it closer, he was surprised to find that among all the figures, only this one had a facial expression.

It was a faint, upward-curving smile.

Xiang Zhi Jie, barely able to contain his joy, asked, "Doesn't it say 'to shelter all the world's poor scholars under a great roof, bringing joy to their faces'? Why aren't the others smiling, and only he is?"

Jiang He: "Prefect Wenren said, the joy of the others requires him to put in more effort and struggle to achieve, not something that can be accomplished overnight; but the one who receives this gift, first, is not a poor scholar, and second, upon seeing this gift, will naturally smile."

He thought for a moment, then added one of Le Wuya's original sayings: "'If you don't smile, you're not a person.'"

Hearing this, Xiang Zhi Jie couldn't help but laugh, a smile spreading across his face.

The curve of his smile was exactly the same as the little figure's.