Chapter 219: The Wind Rises (7)

Zhi Jie brought over the basin of water Hua Rong hadn't had time to dump that morning, and carefully cleaned Le Wuya up, bit by bit.

With the immediate crisis resolved and reason gradually returning, Le Wuya gently rubbed his stomach while thinking—this was a real pickle. At such a critical moment, all sense of decency and shame just flew out the window.

Though, to be fair, he'd never been on a first-name basis with "decency and shame" anyway.

He squinted his eyes, letting Zhi Jie wipe his fingers clean, and asked lazily, "So, when's Assistant Prefect Mu gonna get here, anyway?"

Zhi Jie's hands stilled for a beat. "...Soon."

Le Wuya leaned in, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Soon? How soon's that?"

Zhi Jie looked up at him, and seeing the mischief sparkling in his eyes, couldn't help but chuckle low under his breath.

Le Wuya tipped his chin up. "Teacher's asking you a question. No laughing. Answer."

Zhi Jie checked the sky and answered, all proper-like, "About another half hour."

Le Wuya hummed in acknowledgment. "Since when did our Sixth Prince pick up this amazing fortune-telling gig?"

Zhi Jie placed the wrung-out cold towel over the back of his hand. "Teacher forget? My math and calendar skills were always the best out of all the princes. They say I can read the stars and do the math—Dayu's number one fortune-teller."

Saying stuff like that with a straight face was a real riot.

Le Wuya gazed at him intently. "Ah, Great Oracle, since you're so good at math, how 'bout you calculate something for me?"

"Please, Teacher, speak."

"By ethics, I'm your teacher and you're my student; by rank, you're a prince and I'm your subject. I've gone and done something so rebellious—if heaven's gonna smite me, how many lightning bolts do I gotta take before it's all square?"

Zhi Jie, still busy tending to him, said gravely, "I'm the one who seduced Teacher."

Le Wuya: "...Cut the sweet talk. I asked you to calculate how many bolts I'd catch."

Zhi Jie: "If the sky falls, my imperial father's got it covered. He's the true Son of Heaven—a few bolts won't faze him."

Le Wuya stared at him for a long beat, then shook his head. "Zhi Jie, Zhi Jie, Zhi Jie."

Zhi Jie's whole back went rigid.

Like any student anywhere, he dreaded hearing his teacher use his full name.

But his reasons for dreading it were a whole different ballgame from your average student's.

After a long pause, Zhi Jie finally braced himself and looked up—only to lock eyes with Le Wuya.

Le Wuya studied him for a long while. "Teacher really doesn't get it. Are you being serious with me?"

Zhi Jie: "Teacher, you know I've never been one for games. Little Seven's the one who likes to play."

Because he said it so matter-of-factly and was answering completely honestly, Le Wuya didn't catch that he was being tattled on. "Then what was all that just now?"

Zhi Jie: "Making Teacher feel good."

Hearing him talk about something like that so openly, even with a touch of filial devotion, Le Wuya was stumped for a second.

Was this respecting your teacher, or straight-up betraying him?

Le Wuya mulled it over for a sec and decided he wasn't gonna be the only one losing sleep over this.

He let his bare feet hang off the bed, propping them on Zhi Jie's knee like a footrest, and gave his aching back a rub.

Le Wuya asked him, "So, you wanna feel good too?"

His bare toes drifted to the side, grazing him in a way that was barely a touch.

Zhi Jie's hand clenched around the cloth, and a few fat, heavy drops of water splashed onto his robes, bursting into a spray of tiny beads.

"Sorry, Teacher's skills are pretty lousy—I really can't teach you a thing." Seeing that Zhi Jie's mask was starting to crack, Le Wuya leaned back, grinning as he watched him. "Ain't you got half an hour left? That enough for you?"

Zhi Jie got up, hunched over, and said through gritted teeth, "...I'll do my best."

"Don't 'do your best.'" Le Wuya crossed one leg over the other. "Aren't you the big calculator? Teacher's giving you an assignment. Half an hour—not a second more, not a second less. When Assistant Prefect Mu shows up, only then are you allowed to... got it?"

Zhi Jie shot him one long, loaded look, then stood and bowed.

That double-ended bow was a first even for a seasoned old hand like Le Wuya.

Zhi Jie made it to the door, hand on the frame, and couldn't help but look back.

Turns out, Le Wuya was still watching him, hands behind his head, gathering up his messy curls and tying them back with his Taoist beads.

When their eyes met, Le Wuya gave him a smile that was half dare, half smug.

For as long as Le Wuya had played the good teacher, Zhi Jie had played the perfect student right back.

When you put it like that, it was pretty funny.

And Zhi Jie's head had taken a subtle turn too.

Before, his feelings for his teacher had always been these hazy, fleeting daydreams—thinking of him made his heart ache, sting, and glow warm.

...This was the first time he'd felt this kind of restless, burning itch.

But he still kept up the good-student act and headed to the side room.

...

When Mu Jiazhi showed up, Registrar Zi was right behind him.

Lately, the prefecture had rounded up a bunch of "Japanese pirates," which had dredged up a pile of old cases, so Le Wuya had lent Zi Yongshou back to Mu Jiazhi to work the investigations together.

Ever since he'd gotten Registrar Zi back, Mu Jiazhi had learned his lesson and eased up on his old hard-ass, iron-fisted ways. He stopped running his people ragged and even showed them a little consideration now and then.

The folks who'd earned Mu Jiazhi's respect and worked under him were mostly sharp, practical go-getters. Back when he rode them too hard, they couldn't even hit their full stride.

Now that Mu Jiazhi gave them more slack, these registrars and clerks were actually getting more done than ever.

This time, after being apart for so long, the two were teaming up again. Both were a little on edge, worried the bad blood from that whole mess might still get in the way.

But the second they got down to it, they clicked right back into work mode.

After all, they were old friends—nobody else had that kind of chemistry.

By the time the two walked into the courtyard, Le Wuya had already put on a spotless set of official robes and was sitting on the swing, swaying gently.

The yard smelled faintly of soap pods—clean and refined.

A bedsheet and a nightgown fluttered in the wind within the courtyard.

Mu Jiazhi, accustomed to Le Wuya's unkempt appearance, found himself momentarily disconcerted to see him so solemnly attired—even his cap and jade pendant were in place, and the knotted buttons at his collar were fastened with unusual precision.

No sooner had he and Zi the Registrar paid their respects to Le Wuya than Zhi Jie pushed open the door of the side chamber and stepped out.

Contrary to his usual dignified and decorous demeanor, Zhi Jie had cast aside his customary style, clad instead in a loose crimson robe with a light fur collar, with his collar buttons left partially undone.

His cheeks were flushed like peach blossoms, and his eyes brimmed with spring warmth: "Assistant Prefect Mu, let's skip the formalities."

Zhi Jie got straight to the point, explaining his purpose in visiting incognito and the case details he had uncovered so far.

At the mention of work, Mu Jiazhi perked up immediately, brushing aside his earlier discomfort: "Tracing Zhang Kai's letters to and from the capital isn't hard, but... does the Sixth Prince want to investigate secretly or out in the open?"

"Better to do it secretly," Zhi Jie said, choosing his words carefully. "The Five City Patrol found out that Zhang Yue's confidant traveled back and forth between the capital and Tongzhou in the half-month before the incident. But after they searched Zhang Yue's house, they found no letters between the two. That's exactly why I came to Tongzhou myself, so Prefect Wenren, Assistant Prefect Mu, and Assistant Prefect Zong understand the Emperor's resolve in handling this case."

"Of course, Zhang Kai is Zhang Yue's only nephew—family is family, and frequent contact between uncle and nephew is hardly unusual. We can't jump to conclusions and convict an innocent man."

"The Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review, on the Emperor's orders, sent a Special Envoy to Xuan County in Huangzhou to bring the arsonist who torched the temple and stole the ledgers back to the capital for trial. We'll soon find out who he really is and whose man he is. If this culprit has nothing to do with Zhang Kai, and no letters exist in his household as evidence, then Zhang Kai can't be considered involved."

Zhi Jie paused, then said softly, "Grand Secretary Zhang Xie gave his whole life to Dayu. Without solid evidence, we should at least leave him some family to carry on his line."

But he kept the second half of that sentence to himself.

With his only political backer gone, for Zhang Kai, it would be like his whole world caving in.

The rest of his life would probably be nothing but slow torture, like being cut with a dull knife.

Mu Jiazhi agreed without hesitation, then after thinking for a moment, sighed softly: "Too bad, though—I'm afraid the monks at Sangui Temple are going to suffer for this."

At this, Registrar Zi asked in surprise, "What do you mean?"

In his view, the monks of Sangui Temple had been hit by pure bad luck—their temple burned down, and they nearly lost their lives. How could they suffer even more?

Mu Jiazhi, dropping his usual cold demeanor, explained patiently: "...Abbot Liaoyuan was actually Rao Gaoming, a convict from that Huangzhou fake treasure case years back. Being falsely accused and saddled with serious crimes is one thing, but fleeing while in exile is another thing entirely. With a fugitive running Sangui Temple for all those years, the other monks would have a hard time explaining who they really are. With the Emperor furious and local officials in his bad books, they'll probably take it out on the Sangui Temple monks with intense interrogations."

Zi Yongshou's heart jumped: "Then... what do we do?"

"Don't worry," Le Wuya interjected. "They asked the local government for money to repair the temple, and took off long before anyone from the capital showed up."

Mu Jiazhi raised an eyebrow: "How do you know that, sir?"

Zhi Jie covered for him without missing a beat: "When I left the capital, I got word from Xuan County, and I told Prefect Wenren about it."

With that, he looked at Le Wuya and smiled admiringly.

...Could his teacher have predicted even this?

Because the two had responded in such seamless succession, Mu Jiazhi harbored no suspicion.

Without further delay, Mu Jiazhi, ever decisive in action, refused to waste more time and rose with Zi Yongshou: "He Qian and I will go find Assistant Prefect Zong to handle this jointly. Since arriving in Tongzhou, he has cultivated good relations all around and is well-connected with information."

Zhi Jie said with refined courtesy, "I thank you both for your efforts."

After the two took their leave with their assigned tasks, Zhi Jie turned to Le Wuya: "Teacher, I must be going as well."

Le Wuya: ?

Did you come here just to take advantage of me?

"This time I am here on official business, so I must come and go quickly—I cannot stay even a single night," Zhi Jie explained immediately upon seeing the anger gathering on Le Wuya's brow. "Just as when I went to Tongzhou last time, I have shadow guards following me."

Had it not been for the three layers of hidden sentries plus a dog, so tightly guarded that not even a needle could slip through, the shadow guard would likely have followed him inside as well.

At this, Zhi Jie lowered his eyes and smiled with restraint: "...Fortunately."

A perfect case of saying much while saying little.

By then, he had already noticed that Le Wuya had re-worn the Taoist beads that had served as a hair tie back onto his right wrist, though concealed within his wide sleeves, difficult for others to perceive.

Zhi Jie had always been frugal, and the beads on his wrist were nothing fine—merely coarse, large sandalwood beads, each a deep black. Worn on Le Wuya's wrist, set against his naturally flawless complexion and slightly prominent wrist bone, the contrast was strikingly vivid.

Noticing where his gaze had fallen, Le Wuya extended his hand: "Your hand."

Zhi Jie smiled sheepishly, reached out his left hand, and obediently waited for his teacher to return the beads to him.

To his surprise, Le Wuya naturally extended his right hand and grasped his fingertips, intending to slide the beads from his own wrist back onto Zhi Jie's.

Le Wuya's hands were never those of a scholar—they bore faint calluses, rough to the touch.

The moment their fingertips intertwined, Zhi Jie's wrist pulse began to throb violently.

In that intensely stimulating contact, the Taoist beads, carrying Le Wuya's body warmth and the scent of pine and cypress from his hair, returned to Zhi Jie's wrist.

Le Wuya tilted his face up and gave him a fox-like smile.

The next instant, his right hand suddenly exerted force, forcing Zhi Jie's left hand fully open. With a flick of his left arm, an iron ruler slid out from his sleeve, and he struck Zhi Jie's palm three times in succession: "I'll teach you to be mischievous, to be sly!"

Zhi Jie: ...???

Accustomed to being the model student and enjoying every privilege at Le Wuya's hands, he never expected that at the ripe age of twenty-four, he would be rapped on the palm with a discipline ruler by his teacher.

He was dazed for a moment before the burning sting in his palm registered.

After disciplining his student, Le Wuya put away the ruler and, seeing him nursing his palm with a pained expression, his eyes filled with confusion and a faint trace of shame, his mood improved somewhat.

During the time Zhi Jie had been busy on his own, Le Wuya had figured it out.

If this young man were truly a gentleman, he would have simply stood outside. Instead, he had insisted on pushing open the window to remind him—clearly with ulterior motives, seizing an unfair advantage.

And as for deceiving him into thinking Mu Jiazhi was about to arrive—that was even more detestable!

Seeing him staring blankly at his reddened palm, Le Wuya poked his waist with the iron ruler: "What are you brooding about?"

Zhi Jie lowered his eyes demurely: "Your student dare not say."

Le Wuya commanded: "Speak."

"Teacher's hand is nice," Zhi Jie said with refined composure. "Next time, use Teacher's hand."

Le Wuya leapt up to kick his backside, but Zhi Jie, anticipating this, took long strides and reached the moon-gate entrance in a few steps.

He waved cheerfully at Le Wuya: "Teacher, see you later!"

Having grown accustomed to his mature and solemn demeanor, seeing him so rarely playful and delighted, Le Wuya's deliberately taut expression could not help but relax somewhat, and he called out, "Get out of here!"

That playful scolding startled a sparrow perched in the tree into flight.

Once the courtyard had settled back into stillness, Le Wuya returned to the swing, continuing to sway in pensive silence.

He came like the wind, and went like the wind, as if it were an absurd spring dream.

Were it not for this official robe, that bedsheet, and the strange sensation that still lingered beneath him, he might have drifted into a daze.

Idle, Le Wuya stood up, walked over to the bedsheet, and carefully examined it for any stains.

If Hua Rong saw this, Le Wuya would have to do a lot of explaining.

Suddenly, Le Wuya sensed something was off.

…On the other side, someone seemed to be there.

Le Wuya lifted a corner of the bedsheet and looked over.

At some point, Zhi Jie had returned.

He stood on the other side of the snow-white bedsheet, slightly out of breath from running. "Teacher, my thumb ring."

Le Wuya gave an "oh": "I thought you found it too old-fashioned and didn't want it anymore."

He untied the silk cord of his pouch and took out the old thumb ring.

Zhi Jie held out his left hand again.

Le Wuya teased him: "Haven't you had enough of the ruler?"

Struck with the ruler for the first time in his life, Zhi Jie curled his palm nervously. "Then could I switch hands, Teacher?"

"Such a fuss." Le Wuya took his palm, feeling a quiet pang of nostalgia.

The hand before him had elegant fingers with distinct knuckles, as if drawn with fine brushstrokes.

When he had given him the thumb ring back then, that hand was still thin and delicate, like a leaf that hadn't yet filled out.

Le Wuya slipped the thumb ring onto his thumb, but didn't let go right away.

"I say…" he drawled. "Aren't you afraid I'm trying to get back at your father by luring you, coaxing you into doing this?"

Hearing this, Zhi Jie blinked, momentarily speechless.

Le Wuya raised a hand and waved it before his eyes: "Hey, stunned? Dazed?"

The next moment, Zhi Jie opened his arms, bringing with him the scent of sunshine and a hint of warm, damp breath, wrapping Le Wuya snugly in the thin bedsheet and pulling him into an embrace.

A gentle breeze swept through the courtyard, lifting a few fallen petals and tender leaves, which swirled lightly around their feet.

His voice was low and tender: "Then please, Teacher, take more revenge on the Emperor Father."