Chapter 300: Breaking the Deadlock (7)

The prison fell silent.

Le Wuya's gaze settled quietly on Zhou Wenchang.

He was advanced in years and had long been stationed in the borderlands. His original refined scholarly bearing had been worn away entirely into a shabby, defeated demeanor.

These years he had been trapped in Dansui, with no hope of promotion—and Le Wuya was one-third to blame for that.

Back then, when reviewing the roster of the Changmen Guard, Le Wuya had held high hopes for Zhou Wenchang.

A man of humble origins who had managed to earn the rank of Bangyan (second-place graduate) in the imperial examinations was no ordinary talent.

Zhou Wenchang believed he had fallen out of favor with the emperor because he had exposed General Zhuang's breach of regulations.

But Le Wuya was acquainted with Xiang Zhijie, and he knew that during that period, the empress had died, and Imperial Consort Zhuang had been "consumed by grief" and "not entirely obedient." Not long after, General Zhuang was dismissed and sent back to his hometown, and the last pillar of family support she could rely on collapsed.

Comparing court and palace affairs, Le Wuya suspected that General Zhuang had been framed by the Old Emperor.

This also explained why, once Zhuang Xun fell, this freshly minted Bangyan had been promptly exiled to the frontier as well.

The emperor had indeed done wrong, and having this man around naturally displeased him.

Zhuang Xun was the one who started the fire, and Zhou Wenchang was the innocent bystander caught in the crossfire.

Though the emperor had sent Zhou Wenchang away, he likely knew in his heart that this was not the man's fault.

Had someone been willing to lend him a hand, to give him a leg up, his path to prominence need not have been cut off entirely.

But Le Wuya's goodwill fell on deaf ears—Zhou Wenchang was indifferent.

In Zhou Wenchang's reports, he always claimed that the Dansui region was peaceful and uneventful.

Le Wuya felt he was being played for a fool.

Mines were a hotbed for corruption. Even with strict imperial laws, with such a goldmine sitting right here, Le Wuya refused to believe there were no undercurrents.

And Wang Su, relying on tips from so-called "informants," had cracked two major corruption cases in southern Jin one after another, rising from Deputy Left Censor-in-Chief to Left Censor-in-Chief, cementing his position as the head of the Censorate.

From this, Le Wuya knew that Zhou Wenchang had used someone else's connections, so he simply wrote him off and set him aside.

No special reason—he was just petty.

Since Zhou Wenchang hadn't done anything meritorious under his command, why should he rush to sing his praises?

He wanted to see whether Wang Su would be willing to drag this useful "informant" out of that mess.

Sure enough, Wang Su did not disappoint his dark expectations.

Zhou Wenchang served as a seventh-rank county magistrate for over ten years.

By the time Le Wuya had died, been resurrected, and risen from seventh-rank magistrate to fourth-rank Censor-in-Chief, Zhou Wenchang was still stuck as a county magistrate.

No matter how high his public esteem, no matter how excellent his evaluations, without outstanding achievements or influential backers to recommend him, and with newcomers like himself and Zheng Miao popping up like mushrooms, Zhou Wenchang—no matter how reluctant—could only gradually fade into obscurity.

To be fair, Le Wuya felt sorry his talent went to waste.

But back in the capital, the moment he heard Wang Cheng's report and learned that the trouble was in Dansui County, Le Wuya had a bad feeling.

Zhou Wenchang was Wang Su's man.

And Wang Su had passed over Xu Yingrui, the Right Assistant Censor-in-Chief who specialized in county-level oversight and had rich experience, on the pretext of training newcomers, and instead recommended Le Wuya for Dansui—it didn't bode well.

Later...

Le Wuya did not dwell on the goings-on at the mine. He said quietly, "Rise."

Zhou Wenchang straightened up, wiped the sweat from his brow, and spoke with a deferential air: "I have erred..."

"Magistrate Zhou, what mistake have you made?" Le Wuya's tone was gentle, but to those listening, it was impossible to tell whether it was genuine or mocking.

Zhou Wenchang lowered his head: "I was blind and failed to recognize a superior..."

Le Wuya waved his hand: "Magistrate Zhou has been busy with disaster relief and only returned this morning—how is that your fault? What's the situation in Xiaolian Mountain?"

At this point, Le Wuya paused slightly: "Ah, right—I'm currently charged with 'assaulting another person' and still in prison. How dare I meddle in official matters?"

With that, he hitched up his robes and knelt, looking up at Zhou Wenchang with a smile: "Perhaps Magistrate Zhou should rule on my case first? With a criminal charge hanging over me, how am I supposed to do my job as a supervisor?"

At these words, Deputy Magistrate Jian, standing nearby, broke into a sweat.

The conflict at the Niu Ji Inn, upon closer examination, did indeed have many suspicious points.

First, the person who reported the incident was not a clerk from the inn, but a passerby.

According to them, as they passed the inn's entrance, they heard a commotion inside. Peeking in, they saw a crowd of people, with seven or eight clerks gathered in a circle, trying to surround one man.

The passerby assumed the clerks were ganging up on a guest and hurriedly notified the patrolling constables.

When the constables arrived, they found the clerks sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain.

Only Qin Xingyue stood there, gripping the trembling bookkeeper, demanding harshly: "I'm asking you—are you going to compensate us or not?!"

The constables rushed in and arrested both Qin Xingyue and Le Wuya, who had been watching from the sidelines.

Before coming, they had already summoned the clerks from the inn.

The clerk who had been beaten the worst showed no anger, stammering that the two guests were quite strange—they had shut themselves in their room as soon as they arrived and never came out.

That morning, he had knocked on their door, but no one answered. Assuming they weren't in, he pushed the door open to check, only to startle Le Wuya, who was sleeping in bed, causing him to be scratched on the neck by a curtain hook.

Qin Xingyue had then argued with the clerk, and a fight broke out.

Though Qin Xingyue was lame in one leg, he was extraordinarily fierce. Seven or eight clerks rushed at him but couldn't stop him.

What the passerby had called a "gang beating" was in fact Qin Xingyue taking on the crowd single-handedly, beating them all while suffering only minor scratches himself.

Not to mention Zhou Wenchang—even the unremarkable Deputy Magistrate Jian found it quite puzzling when he heard the story.

Wait—after being beaten that badly, why didn't you report it to the authorities? Why did a passerby have to intervene?

Besides, the guests were resting—what business was it of yours whether they came out or not? What kind of logic was it to barge straight in?

The young clerk, upon being questioned, broke into a sweat and stammered without being able to explain himself.

He had indeed been secretly watching Le Wuya, seeing him holed up in his room without coming out for a day and night, and not rising even when the sun was high the next day. Suspicious that he might have slipped away, and getting no response when he knocked, he had used the pretext of checking to push the door open and investigate.

The young clerk had expected at most a scolding, never imagining that pushing open that door would startle a dignitary and draw blood.

What's done is done.

His face bruised and swollen, he said forget it—he'd accept his bad luck and drop the matter.

Deputy Magistrate Jian had never seen such a forgiving victim.

When Le Wuya and Qin Xingyue were thrown in jail, he'd gotten only a quick look at them.

Le Wuya had never been involved at all—not even a spot of dirt on his clothes.

Qin Xingyue, taking on eight guys alone, had only one bruise on his face.

Deputy Magistrate Jian even suspected the bruise was self-inflicted, to downgrade the charge from "assault" to "mutual combat."

Others didn't know why they were so forgiving, but Zhou Wenchang did.

—This young waiter was one of Wen Huan's people.

He'd been sent by Wen Huan to keep an eye on suspicious types, only to be soundly beaten by the very guy he was tailing.

Now that he was caught up in a lawsuit, he was naturally scared and wanted to downplay it and make it go away.

But bystanders had come to the yamen to report the case, and Wen Ren's identity as an imperial censor had been revealed in open court by Wang Cheng. The matter was blowing up and could no longer be hidden.

Zhou Wenchang steadied himself and shot a meaningful look at his secretary.

The secretary had paper and brush on him, hastily pulled them out, held his breath, and prepared to record.

Zhou Wenchang took a deep breath: "Lord Wenren, I've been terribly remiss. May I ask what happened? Why did you tell your man to pick a fight?"

Le Wuya said without hesitation: "Because I wanted to get into prison."

Zhou Wenchang: "..."

Le Wuya looked at Zhou Wenchang with an encouraging look: "Magistrate Zhou, go on, keep asking."

Zhou Wenchang: "...I assume you're not here to see whether my county runs fair trials or whether the prison is clean."

"Exactly right." Le Wuya smiled slightly. "It's because that waiter had been sneaking around watching us for two days."

Zhou Wenchang: "..."

He managed a strained smile: "If you had suspicions, my lord, you could have just come to the yamen..."

Le Wuya said bluntly: "On my very first day here, I noticed this waiter claimed to have worked as a waiter for years, yet didn't even know where the kitchen door of the Niu Ji Inn was. And the people I sent out were either caught or disappeared without a trace. Tell me, Magistrate Zhou, if you were in my shoes, wouldn't you be afraid?"

"What if something bad happened to me the moment I stepped out? Wouldn't that cause you a lot of trouble, Magistrate Zhou? So making a scene to get myself out of that bind was the best strategy. Otherwise, I wouldn't even have been able to meet you face to face, would I?"

Zhou Wenchang looked down: "...My lord, you're exaggerating."

Le Wuya said calmly: "Whether I'm exaggerating or not, one interrogation will prove it. Xiao Qin took on all the waiters by himself—they're all the victims in this case. It's totally within your rights to call them in and question them. Since that waiter has worked at the Niu Ji Inn for several years, they must all know each other well. Just question them one by one, and Magistrate Zhou will soon know whether I'm exaggerating."

By now, Zhou Wenchang was no longer rattled.

He said: "My lord, you chose not to open court but to talk straight here. I figure you've got a deeper reason."

Le Wuya's eyes crinkled in a smile: "As I said, Magistrate Zhou, as a runner-up in the imperial exams, you're indeed quick on the uptake."

He asked: "This waiter—you sent him, didn't you?"

Zhou Wenchang opened his mouth to defend himself, but the words died on his lips.

This guy had been sent by Wen Huan.

To everyone else, Wen Huan represented him.

Le Wuya said in a reasonable tone: "With a Special Envoy about to arrive, it's only natural to have people keeping an eye out. But my men have been disappearing or getting thrown in jail. I was very afraid my men would die in prison, so I had to find a way to get in here and check on them myself."

He looked around and said jokingly: "Ever since I set foot in Dansui, I've been terrified. It was only after being locked in a cell that I finally felt safe."

Zhou Wenchang said in a low voice: "Lord Wenren, when you talk like that, where does that leave me?"

Le Wuya: "That depends on how you choose to handle this, Magistrate Zhou."

There was a very noticeable scratch on Le Wuya's neck—clearly from a sharp object, still fresh.

Zhou Wenchang let out a quiet breath and asked: "Secretary Lin, is the statement ready?"

Secretary Lin had stopped writing after the opening lines, not daring to write any more. Hearing Zhou Wenchang's words, he exchanged a glance with him, understood at once, and scribbled furiously before handing over the just-finished statement.

The statement only covered the cause: Le Wuya had been accidentally scratched on the neck, which led to a quarrel and some pushing and shoving—nothing more than a trivial matter.

No mention of the tailing, no mention of the fight injuries.

After reading it, Le Wuya asked: "Will this do?"

Zhou Wenchang was no longer the green young man who had offended his superiors without realizing it: "My lord, this is how it's going to be. The injured waiters at the Niu Ji Inn will be compensated by the yamen as best it can; the wound on your neck was accidental, and we'll do our best to treat it; your men Zhong Piaoping, Wang Cheng, and Ji Zhun will be released with no charges. Everything from before is settled, as if none of it ever happened. What do you say, my lord?"

Le Wuya didn't say yes or no.

He read the statement from start to finish, his gaze lingering on the phrases "stayed in the room for two days, never once leaving" and "wound caused by a curtain hook."

What he had sought by sending himself to prison was exactly these two lines.

Zhou Wenchang, taking a risk, had tried two cases in succession—perhaps hoping that Zhong Piaoping and Wang Cheng would fail to prove their innocence, getting hit with charges of murder and extortion, and dragging the censor himself into scandal, forcing him to slink back to the capital in disgrace and be punished for failing to restrain his men.

Unexpectedly, both men were no ordinary men. They turned the tables one after another, and neither fell into the trap.

So Zhou Wenchang changed tack and decided to make it all go away quietly.

A quiet settlement was fine by him.

In this way, the Dansui county yamen would back him up, confirming that he had spent both days at the Niu Ji Inn and that his wound was not from an arrow.

Then how could he possibly be the one who had snuck off to the mine yesterday and killed four mine guards?

He had stayed holed up in his room at the inn, busy being scared.