Chapter 287: Disaster Arrives (IX)

All that sparring between Zhong Piaoping and Yuan Zijin wasn't for nothing.

Le Wuya had to work hard to pry that rock-hard corn cob out of the young man's mouth.

The young Changmen Guard had tried everything to get free—with half a corn cob lodged in his mouth, he'd managed to gnaw off most of the kernels with his tongue and teeth, but the cob was wedged in too tight. No matter how hard he chewed, it stayed jammed in there.

He chewed in silence, building up a bellyful of resentment and a stockpile of curses ready to explode the moment his tongue was free—he'd curse out Zhong Piaoping's ancestors for eighteen generations.

But Le Wuya cut him off before he could speak, pressing a waterskin to his cracked lips: "Drink."

He hadn't had a drop of water or a bite of food in a full day and night—the young Changmen Guard was completely drained. With the odds two against one, pushing back wasn't going to do him any favors. So he choked down his rage and gulped the water down aggressively.

When he finished, Le Wuya handed him two flatbreads: "Eat something."

The bread was freshly bought that day—soft, still slightly warm.

As the young Changmen Guard's hunger and anger gradually subsided, Le Wuya grabbed his wrist.

He instinctively jerked back, but his wrist was caught in a firm grip.

"You were tied up by him for quite a while—your blood's been cut off." As he spoke, Le Wuya's fingers pressed into the acupoints on his wrist. "If we don't get the blood flowing again, don't blame anyone when your hands and feet give out."

The young Changmen Guard stopped struggling, thinking: A fourth-rank official is waiting on me—not bad.

He casually spread out his other hand and said bluntly: "Got any more food? Give it to me."

Le Wuya, good-tempered as ever, stuffed another flatbread into his hand and watched him wolf it down, all while playing the long-suffering servant, working the tendons in his wrist.

"My man's got a suspicious nature—sorry about that." Le Wuya shot a cold glare sideways. "Xiao Zhong, kneel. Apologize."

Zhong Piaoping obeyed readily, dropping to his knees with a thud and kowtowing.

"What made you suspect him?"

Zhong Piaoping didn't hold back, laying out every doubt he had.

Given what he'd been through, Zhong Piaoping really did tend to assume the worst of people.

His reasoning was this: the guy was traveling alone, with no backup. Having witnessed a murder of unknown cause, why would he approach Zhong Piaoping instead of using the grass for cover and getting the hell out of there?

The young Changmen Guard: "..." Fair point.

He had been tailing Zhong Piaoping from a distance—the men silent as mice, horses' hooves wrapped, avoiding the main roads entirely, sticking to ditches, back paths, and brush.

But by the time they reached the great meadow, Zhong Piaoping had already looked back three times.

Seeing that, the young Changmen Guard made the call to ditch the tail and wait in the grass, planning something big.

He'd asked the locals about the terrain and knew the main road ahead was wide open, no place to hide—nothing beat the meadow for natural cover.

If he kept following, he'd get spotted for sure.

Better to lie in wait in the meadow, let Zhong Piaoping return, then pretend to be a traveler and "happen" to run into him, tagging along.

If he could banter his way close to Wen Renyue and spy up close—that would be a huge score!

Lord Wang Su had made it clear: ignore that Commander Qiu. He had once been a household servant under former Changmen Guard Commander Le Wuya, his background was murky, couldn't be trusted.

His job was to play it by ear, keep a close eye on Wen Renyue and his men, and catch any sign of wrongdoing.

Once he got back to the capital, a fat reward was waiting for him.

With money, he could fix up his godfather's grave proper and fancy!

So, tempted by the promise of a huge payoff, the young Changmen Guard ditched his worthless tailing without a second thought.

The mudslide in Dansui?

What was Zhong Piaoping even investigating?

None of his damn business.

All he had to do was attach himself to Wen Renyue's group—mission accomplished!

He never expected that A Shun had the exact same idea.

—This vast meadow, stretching to the horizon, was a natural place for all kinds of shady business.

It was perfect for a "chance encounter," and just as perfect for murder and dumping a body on the road back to the county seat.

When he saw Zhong Piaoping and that yamen runner suddenly start brawling out of nowhere, the young Changmen Guard was first stunned, then ecstatic—he almost laughed out loud:

This was a golden opportunity handed to him on a silver platter!

This place—middle of nowhere, not a soul around, just the three of them in the wind-blown grass.

Zhong Piaoping, desperate to clear his name, would have no choice but to come begging to him!

He wouldn't even need to think—just step forward, say a few good words for Zhong Piaoping, and he could smoothly worm his way into the core circle of this group!

He never imagined Zhong Piaoping would be so jumpy—like a startled bird.

At the slightest hint that something was off, the man didn't hesitate for half a second—he knocked him out cold.

Even worse, afraid he'd yell, Zhong Piaoping didn't give him a single chance to explain—just sealed his mouth shut!

Only when Wen Renyue showed up, acting like he was there to dispense justice, did the young Changmen Guard's shaky confidence firm back up.

No matter how you slice it—Zhong Piaoping's suspicion was just paranoia; he had no real proof.

He just happened to pass by, saw the murder scene, and stepped forward on his own to help Zhong Piaoping clear his name—did he need a reason for that?

After Zhong Piaoping laid out his doubts, Le Wuya turned to him: "From the capital?"

The young Changmen Guard stuck his chin out: "Yes!"

Le Wuya flipped open his travel permit: "What a coincidence—we're from the capital too. We traveled day and night, but we never saw you on the road."

The young Changmen Guard didn't feel a shred of guilt.

If they couldn't even fake details like departure dates and which relay stations they stopped at, the Changmen Guard might as well pack it in and go home to sell sweet potatoes.

He said, full of righteous confidence: "What month did you leave?! I left the capital in mid-August—it's totally normal we never ran into each other!"

Le Wuya gave a faint smile: "You're very honest."

The young Changmen Guard: "..."

Was that a curse he just heard?

Before he could piece together what was happening, Le Wuya kept working his wrist: "What's your name?"

The young Changmen guard knew his travel permit and identity papers had already been searched by Zhong Piaoping, so there was no point in lying. He told the truth: "Ji Zhun."

Le Wuya went "oh." "So how's Ji Tianyang related to you?"

Ji Zhun's face went pale.

Ji Tianyang, a former head eunuch in the palace, was a kind, generous man who treated the younger eunuchs well. He'd adopted many sons, all taking his surname.

It was he who had dragged Qiu Sinian out of the mud, teaching him to read, write, and mind his manners.

If not for Qiu Sinian's wretched origins—and the surname "Qiu" being tainted by rebellion, impossible to change—Little A'Si probably would've taken the Ji surname too.

Ever since he got Little A'Si's note, Le Wuya had picked up on something off.

—"Zhong's got guards with him, so nothing should go wrong."

The word "guards" hinted at an unusual level of trust.

And just now, when Le Wuya casually tested him by saying "traveling day and night, we never saw you all," this honest kid was so busy cooking up a lie that he didn't deny the plural "you all," giving himself away without realizing it.

So it was clear this kid wasn't picked to go with Qiu Sinian because he was some kind of genius.

And yet Qiu Sinian trusted him at least a little...

So who'd actually sent him was pretty obvious.

Wang Su or the old emperor—if they wanted to sneak a spy in next to Qiu Sinian, it wasn't exactly easy.

The best move was to send someone with some tie to Qiu Sinian.

Therefore, the moment he heard the surname Ji, the face of that kindly old eunuch popped into Le Wuya's head.

If Ji Zhun was Ji Tianyang's adopted son, no wonder Little A'Si was willing to cut him some slack.

That kid had a cold face, but he was loyal and soft-hearted underneath.

Ji Zhun's face twitched, then smoothed back to normal: "Who? Don't know him."

"Don't know him?" Somewhere along the way, Le Wuya's hand had slipped to his pulse, pressing lightly. "Say that again. Wind was loud just now, didn't catch it. Come on, let me hear how fast your heart's going."

A chill ran down Ji Zhun's spine, and he yanked hard to pull his hand back.

Le Wuya trained with a bow and had real strength in his hands.

He clamped down on Ji Zhun's wrist. "Easy, easy. Move, and things get ugly."

Move?

How could Ji Zhun move? How could he escape?

Zhong Piaoping had kept him tied up a full day and night. He'd gotten some food in him, but his legs were still shaky and sore. He couldn't run far, and he sure as hell couldn't win a fight.

He remembered clear as day: this Lord Wenren had climbed the ranks fast, and one of his claims to fame was personally cutting down dozens of Japanese pirates in Tongzhou!

That was real battle credit, real skill at killing.

Cold sweat beaded on Ji Zhun's forehead, and his tongue went thick in his mouth.

Le Wuya felt the pulse hammering under his fingers: "Fine, you don't wanna talk, I won't push it."

"Since you're so set on doing right by us, then do your part. Once you've rested up, you'll go with our young Zhong to the Dansui courthouse to file the report."

"Mind your tongue, and I'll mind mine."

"Otherwise, once that lord up in the capital hears how useless you are, your worth as a pawn's about done."