Chapter 280: Disaster Arrives (Part 2)

The road to Jinnan was long, and there was no time to waste.

The emperor's instructions were just as concise: "Minister Wenren, when you get there, you need to find out whether the victims have gotten relief and whether any officials have embezzled funds or concealed the truth."

Le Wuya's expression was grim as he solemnly replied, "Your servant obeys the decree."

Before he left, Wang Su called Le Wuya back for one last stern lecture, basically telling him not to forget his duties as a censor, to hold the line, and not to get too chummy with local officials.

...Clearly, he was still sore about Le Wuya meeting with Yuan Zijin.

This time, Le Wuya took the advice to heart: "Yes. Your subordinate understands."

By the time he got out of there, it was already the wee hours of the morning.

Xu Yingrui, as Right Assistant Censor-in-Chief, also bore the responsibility of overseeing local affairs. He'd been waiting at the office since the night before.

He'd figured he'd be the one sent, given he had way more experience with disaster relief.

Seeing Le Wuya's chilly demeanor, Xu Yingrui figured he was nervous about his first big relief mission, and sought to reassure him: "This disaster isn't that bad—only three villages are affected. Ming Ke, just follow procedure. No need to get all worked up."

Le Wuya glanced at him and replied respectfully, "Thank you, Brother Xu."

Xu Yingrui noticed he was still cold and not his usual cheerful self, and figured something was eating at him. He continued to console him: "If all goes well, you'll be back within a month. When you are, I'll have you over to my place for a pot of this year's fresh Dahongpao."

"Mm."

"If you've got any worries, don't hesitate to talk to me. I've been to disaster zones four or five times and know the ropes pretty well. I should be able to help you out."

Le Wuya cut straight to the point: "I'm worried about you, Brother Xu."

Xu Yingrui: "...Ah?"

"Brother Xu is kind and virtuous, with the air of an elder. I really appreciate you coming to comfort me." Le Wuya paused, then continued, "But the fact that you can say 'only three villages are affected' is exactly what worries me."

Xu Yingrui's face went bright red in an instant, and he stammered, at a loss for words.

Only then did it hit him what he'd just said.

Seeing no anger in Xu Yingrui's face at being called out—just a hint of shame—Le Wuya clasped his hands and bowed: "I may not be well-read, but I've always remembered the saying, 'the loss of even one person is a failure to provide for them.' I live by that, and today I'm passing it on to you, Brother Xu. It's a blessing to sit high in the imperial court, but at the end of the day, you and I are just two of the countless people in this world."

It wasn't until Le Wuya turned and walked out of the Censorate that Xu Yingrui snapped out of it. He looked up sharply but only caught a glimpse of his back, straight as a pine.

He quietly went back to the Grand Tutor's chair in the Right Assistant's Hall and sat down, mulling things over for a long while. Then, out of nowhere, he asked his trusted clerk, "I've heard you all whispering that Wen Ren Yue looks like someone. Who?"

Xu Yingrui was an easygoing man, but unlike Zhang Yuanye—the Grand Court Chief Justice everyone could push around—he kept his clerks on a short leash and forbid them from gossiping about state affairs.

So most gossip never even reached Xu Yingrui's ears.

He'd occasionally caught wind that Wen Ren Yue looked like someone.

But weirdly enough, rumors about Wen Ren Yue were always strange:

Whenever people brought him up, they were uniformly tight-lipped—not just avoiding the topic, but always referring to him as "that lord."

...Really weird.

The clerk, surprised by the question, immediately launched into a long spiel: "My lord came in from outside the capital, so no wonder you don't know. You've never crossed paths with that one..."

He lowered his voice: "Lord Wenren really is the spitting image of that lord."

"..." Xu Yingrui was quiet for a beat. "Who the hell is 'that lord'?"

The clerk looked around, made sure the office was empty, and only then relaxed. He leaned in close to Xu Yingrui like a thief and whispered, "Does my lord know who Le Wuya is?"

"Him?" Xu Yingrui was stunned. "He looks like the Rebel Le?"

"Oh no, my lord, keep it down!" The clerk waved his hands frantically. "They really are identical."

Xu Yingrui frowned. "Were you close with the Rebel Le back then?"

The clerk immediately backed away from that: "I only saw him a few times. But his presence was truly, truly..."

Even though he was good with words, he was stuck for a long moment. After stammering, he finally got out: "...Unforgettable at first sight."

Xu Yingrui didn't know exactly how similar they were, but he couldn't help but worry:

Ming Ke really had rotten luck.

Of all people to look like, why did it have to be the Rebel Le?

Seeing his brows knit together, the clerk went on: "Le Wuya is greedier than sin and brazen as hell. Back then, he handled a murder case. The culprit was a rich brat from the Liu family, the illegitimate son of Lord Jin Donglai. Lord Jin secretly slipped him five hundred taels of silver as a bribe. He took the money and did play along, sentencing the guy to exile—it was meant to give both sides an out, and in a few years, the guy could be quietly brought back. But then..."

The clerk lowered his voice even more: "He went and ambushed the road himself, dressed up as bandits, and shot the Liu kid dead..."

Xu Yingrui: "...What?"

"When word got back, Lord Jin nearly cried himself to death and fell seriously ill. He had a hard time siring kids—that bastard son was his only one. Le Wuya had wiped out his bloodline, and then had the nerve to show up at his door with tonics and gifts to check on him... Later, the Rebel Le confessed to his own crimes and dragged Lord Jin down with him, getting him sentenced to confiscation and exile. Word is he died on the road before even making it to exile. Tell me, does a person like that even exist?"

Xu Yingrui: Indeed, he had never seen such a person.

Though... it was a case of the wicked being punished by the wicked.

He had to admit, it was rather satisfying.

The clerk's focus was clearly different from Xu Yingrui's: "Who knows how many such wrongful cases he handled in secret? On the day his property was confiscated, he brought a full hundred carts. Good heavens, all one hundred carts were packed to the brim!"

"..." Xu Yingrui raised a question: "A hundred large carts, all completely full?"

Having worked in censorial oversight for many years, he sensed something amiss.

If someone were a truly colossal corrupt official, having enough loot to fill a hundred carts wouldn't be surprising.

Not to mention others, Xu Yingrui himself had once confiscated one hundred and twenty carts of ill-gotten goods in a single case.

But bringing a hundred carts and returning with a hundred carts?

Just so perfectly matched?

Xu Yingrui had encountered a similar case once:

A censor had been bribed to file a false accusation against a prefect for corruption.

He had fabricated evidence quite well. When the prefect's property was to be confiscated, the censor brought thirty large carts to make a show of force—yet could find nothing to seize.

Because that prefect was truly incorruptible as water.

So, that audacious censor loaded up some tables and chairs, sealed them in boxes with official tags, and grandly hauled the thirty carts back.

After the incident, when the imperial censor testified, he said that he had originally planned to bring more carts to create the illusion of substantial wealth to cover up his tracks. But by then, the prefect's entire household had been stripped clean—every scrap of valuables taken, even the door panels removed. There was nothing left to load onto the carts.

If he summoned more carts, even the drivers would notice the discrepancy in weight, which would only expose him.

So he had no choice but to give up.

Xu Yingrui frowned and asked, "Who was sent to confiscate the rebel Le's property?"

The clerk replied, "It was Lord Wang Su who personally oversaw the matter."

Xu Yingrui said, "...Oh." Since it was Lord Wang Su, there was surely no issue.

It really must have been a coincidence.

He murmured, "Is he really that alike?"

The clerk nodded eagerly, "He really is."

"And his speech and mannerisms?"

"I didn't have much dealings with the rebel Le—only exchanged a few words, all official business. I can't guarantee that." The clerk paused, then added, "Others say the rebel Le was impulsive and reckless in his speech, bold and unbridled. If not for his weak constitution, he'd have stirred up even more trouble..."

Xu Yingrui was no longer listening to the clerk.

He thought, if these two really were that similar...

Then Le Wuya must be a good man.

...

In the faint light of dawn, Le Wuya met up with Qin Xingyue, Wang Cheng, and Zhong Piaoping, who had been waiting for him.

He had received the summons yesterday and entered the palace that very night, then returned to the Censorate to pull files. As soon as the gates opened, he'd ride out under the stars, making straight for Jinzhou.

The little yellow horse Le Wuya rode was hardly little anymore.

Though it was still greedy, lazy, and sly, grabbing every chance to goof off and grab a bite, it was also savvy and in tune with its master. Sensing its master's unusual gravity, it immediately rallied all its energy, treading quietly and steadily along.

It was, after all, bred from border warhorses.

Clop, clop, clop, clop.

The clatter of hooves on the flagstones rang out sharp and clear in the empty streets.

In the capital, galloping was forbidden, so the four, with their four horses, walked to the South Gate.

Le Wuya led the little yellow horse, his face blank and thoughtful.

Until Qin Xingyue clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Sir," Wang Cheng whispered nearby, "It's the Sixth Prince's entourage."

Le Wuya jerked his head up and saw a small sedan chair draped in blue stopping beside him.

Xiang Zhijie lifted the curtain and gazed at him in silence.

Le Wuya immediately bowed deeply: "Your subject pays respects to the Sixth Prince."

As he spoke, he lifted his brows and greeted, "You're up early today, Your Highness."

In the half-light of early morning, Xiang Zhijie did not step out of the sedan but spoke through the curtain: "A mudslide has suddenly hit southern Jin. The Ministry of Works also needs to send people to help."

Le Wuya lowered his gaze: "What a coincidence. I was just about to head to southern Jin."

Xiang Zhijie nodded slightly, restrained and polite: "There may be aftershocks, and with the summer heat and damp, plague is likely. Please take care, Lord Wenren."

Le Wuya: "I'll be careful."

As they exchanged words, Xiang Zhijie's face remained as calm as ever, but his fingertips kept tracing the sedan's inner wall, slow and silent.

His palm was burning hot—if it touched his teacher, it would surely scald him.

Xiang Zhijie didn't want Le Wuya to kneel too long, so he took out the medicine he'd prepared the night before and passed it through the curtain, saying casually, "This is a prescription I made—Shengmai Powder, to boost qi and fluids, and guard against heat exhaustion. Since we've met, I'll gift it to you. May your journey be smooth."

Le Wuya said warmly, "Thank you for the Sixth Prince's gift."

Xiang Zhijie extended the medicine with one hand.

Le Wuya received it with both hands, his fingertips brushing swiftly through Xiang Zhijie's grasp.

Xiang Zhijie froze.

—In that brief exchange, Le Wuya had slipped off his thumb ring.

Le Wuya clutched the old ring, still warm from Xiang Zhijie's hand, and looked up with a smile: "With such a blessing to protect me, I will surely remember you... and return it intact."

Xiang Zhijie: "..."

He had originally wanted to remind Le Wuya that this matter seemed suspicious.

After all, his teacher lacked experience and should not have been sent out.

Moreover, for a county-level disaster relief, it should have been the Right Assistant Censor-in-Chief, Xu Yingrui, who oversaw officials below the fifth rank.

But clearly, his teacher had already sensed this.

Taking his ring was his teacher's way of reminding him that someone was still waiting in the capital for him.

So he had to return whole and sound, and then put the ring back on his finger.

...His teacher was making him a promise.

Xiang Zhijie clenched his fist, the itch in his heart growing more intense.

Yet his reply was restrained to the extreme: "Go."

With that, he ordered the sedan to be lifted and moved forward.

Le Wuya also rose, brushed the dust from his knees, and led his horse onward.

The two walked in opposite directions, never once looking back.

Inside the sedan, Xiang Zhijie repeatedly stroked his now-empty thumb.

Meanwhile, the gloom in Le Wuya's eyes had cleared—this was the first genuine smile he had worn since receiving the imperial decree.

A young Changmen Guard, pen in hand, hid in the shadows, taking in the entire scene.

He asked Qiu Sinian beside him, "Sir, should this be recorded?"

Qiu Sinian's face was set like stone, and he nodded solemnly.

The young Changmen Guard figured the lord was nothing if not thorough, and recorded faithfully: "The Sixth Prince met with Wen Ren on the long street and presented a dose of medicine."

As for what they had hidden up their sleeves, not even the Changmen Guard, nor Qiu Sinian for that matter, had caught a glimpse.

No one else under heaven knew of it.

The group left by the South Gate and pushed on day and night, hurrying toward Jinzhou.

Two Changmen Guards trailed them on the emperor's orders.

But he never would have guessed that this Lord Wenren, all scholar looks but a warrior's build, was fine bedding down in a rundown temple or sleeping rough in the woods, and could even have Qin Xingyue scramble up trees to swipe bird eggs for a snack.

Even the young and robust Changmen Guard was worn to a frazzle every single day, passing out the second they stopped, utterly unaware that Qiu Sinian had secretly sought out Le Wuya several times, diligently shoving their jerky, dried goods, and fruit Le Wuya's way.

After all, Qiu Sinian had always eaten a great deal, so nobody dared call him on it.

By the end of the journey, Le Wuya remained in fairly good spirits, but the young Changmen Guard was worn down till his face had gone all sharp and haggard.

Small-scale disasters like mudslides were indeed far less impactful than great calamities such as droughts or floods that threatened entire regions.

When Le Wuya and his party arrived at Dansui County, everything was orderly inside and out, not a hint of commotion.

Beside the county town's gate tower, three men clad only in undergarments were wearing the cangue as punishment, put on public display, their faces blanched by the scorching sun, their breath faint as a thread.

The three travelers reined in their horses and halted. Qin Xingyue gazed at the trio and asked in surprise, "What's the deal here?"

Le Wuya said, "Qin Xingyue, go and ask."

Qin Xingyue acknowledged with a sound and spurred his horse forward.

Wang Cheng looked around and said softly, "My lord, with such haste in our journey day and night, those sent to the capital with the report have likely not yet returned."

"Sooner's better than later." Gazing at the tranquil gate of Dansui County, Le Wuya murmured to himself, "Whatever awaits us, let us see."