Chapter 332: After the Court (Part 3)

What a nameless squad leader of the Guanshan Camp did was of little concern to most.

But every move Le Wuya made now genuinely swayed the shifting winds of the entire capital.

The Emperor had actually granted him the authority to inspect the Changmen Guard?

What a crucial position! What a scorching-hot seat of power!

Some savvy officials, sensing that the political currents in the capital were about to turn, promptly shut their gates, kept their wives, concubines, children, and servants from stirring up trouble outside, and quietly lived out clean, peaceful days—never daring to thrust themselves into the eye of the storm.

For every sharp operator, there were plenty who didn't get the memo.

For a time, the area around the Wen Ren residence buzzed with activity, a swarm of visitors coming and going.

The more enthusiastic ones took the initiative to arrive bearing gifts, hoping to strike up a conversation with the newly appointed Chief Censor Wenren.

However, Le Wuya's household was guarded with exceptional strictness.

He Qingsong was in charge of the residence's security.

He Qingsong had that big-brother vibe—loyal, dependable, and he'd turned his whole crew into sworn brothers.

United brothers got things done.

Moreover, having clawed his way up from the ground up, he could smell a gift-bringer's real motives from a mile away. He knew every trick and pitch in the book, and could shoot the breeze with visitors from sunrise to dusk, trading pleasantries until their eyes glazed over and their heads spun.

Either way, neither the gifts nor the visitors ever got past the door of the Wen Ren residence.

Others tried sneakier approaches.

People were often spotted skulking around the residence.

But his mansion was a gift from the Emperor, situated in a busy district full of officials' mansions. The only convenient spot for keeping an eye on the place was a teahouse not far away.

During this period, the teahouse's business boomed, packed with customers, especially the window seats on the second floor—harder to get than gold.

The owner, oblivious to what was really going on, happily raked in a tidy fortune.

Spies hired by various factions even ended up sitting side by side.

They could all guess who the other was, which was awkward, but they kept an unspoken truce—playing dumb, sipping tea, and just barely keeping the peace.

Under the gaze of countless eyes, Le Wuya and his attendants came and went with ease—buying snacks, picking up groceries, acting totally normal, showing not a hint of anything unusual.

Hua Rong had grown into a sturdy young man, as quick and alert as a rabbit, and he deliberately stuck to the main roads in broad daylight.

Whether someone tried to stop him for a drink or slip him some favors, they'd be seen by too many people.

That hesitation played right into their hands.

With so many ears and eyes around, if someone jumped out to approach Hua Rong, what if another faction reported them?

Who would be the first to leap out and give others something to use against them?

Seeing no way to get to Hua Rong, many turned their attention to the two women who helped out at the Wen Ren house.

They occasionally came out to buy produce.

So someone came up with a plan: they found women of similar age and deliberately slashed prices on high-quality vegetables and grain to get them talking.

The pair fell for it, coming by every day to shop.

The vegetable seller sold them cheap goods for over half a month before finally starting to ask questions.

At first, the questions were simple—which official's household they worked for, and whether the family they worked for treated them well.

Sister Yang, who seemed like a blunt, open book, replied with a chuckle: "Very well indeed! Couldn't ask for a better master."

When pressed further, they answered honestly, even telling them exactly when the servants at the Wen Ren residence switched shifts.

The vegetable seller was overjoyed, certain she'd scored a major victory, and ran to report everything, ready to claim her reward.

But one day, she woke up a bit late and was just getting her stall ready to open for business when she heard a knock at the door.

Peeking through the window, she saw the two women from the Chief Censor's house.

She immediately put on a big smile, ready to welcome them warmly.

But the two women, hand in hand, waited a long while and saw no one answer. Spotting the closed-up vegetable shop, they exchanged a glance, utterly bewildered.

Sister Yang: "What the heck? Why aren't they open today?"

Sister He thought it over: "Sis, did we slip up and tip them off?"

"No way," Sister Yang said innocently. "We told it pretty smoothly. Even if we were making stuff up, we'd rehearsed it all beforehand. How could there be a mistake?"

"Then why aren't they open?"

"Beats me."

Sister He wrung her hands, all bummed out: "Aw man, no more cheap veggies."

Sister Yang shrugged it off: "No worries, no worries. The master prefers what we grow ourselves anyway—fresh and good. Worst case, we switch to another shop. That one up ahead has been cutting prices lately, and the goods aren't bad. I reckon that one's a lookout too. Come on, let's go check it out."

The vegetable seller's heart sank on the spot. The next day, she truly shuttered her stall and sold off the shop.

The only one in the household who was stuck at home was Er Ya.

With so many eyes around, even though Er Ya was good at staying hidden, there was no point in going out and drawing attention now.

Having long been used to running laps around the imperial city every day, racking up ten thousand steps, Er Ya suddenly found itself out of a job, bored out of its mind, and could only bound around the courtyard.

After nearly crashing into Sister Yang's loofah trellis and almost getting a beating, it came up with a new game: every day, it would grab the cat Le Wuya brought back from Tongzhou in its mouth, sprint from the back yard to the front, then back again. Sometimes it even helped the cat fight off strays that climbed over the wall.

The once petite tabby cat had grown into a large feline and had long grown accustomed to Er Ya's treatment. Even dangling from its jaws, it stayed perfectly still, instead reveling in its newfound dominance over the whole cat scene for miles around.

As for Yang Zheng, he hadn't been sitting around either.

Late one night, a Changmen Guard who had been scouting the area for several consecutive nights finally made up his mind to scale the wall and search through the letters at the Wen Ren residence.

The moment he poked his head over, a black marble came flying straight at him.

There was a heavy thud from outside the wall, then a faint groan.

Hearing that, Yang Zheng, the one who'd thrown it, finally relaxed.

Good. At least he wasn't dead.

Zhong Piaoping, overseeing nearby, asked Yang Zheng, "Brother Yang, how many does this make?"

Yang Zheng counted in his head: "The seventh in five days."

Although Yang Zheng had a gentle nature, since following His Lordship into the capital from Nanting, he always felt he was dead weight, contributing nothing. Therefore, he took it upon himself to guard the household and eliminate the rats trying to break in.

He was skilled with his hands, particularly with stones, though his skills had grown a bit rusty from lack of use.

Now, he had plenty of chances to practice.

But Yang Zheng was a born worrier, unlike He Qingsong who was more carefree.

He was deeply concerned about His Lordship's situation: "Xiao Zhong, His Lordship has made many enemies since arriving in the capital. Is there really no problem?"

Zhong Piaoping replied succinctly, "His Lordship will be fine."

The trip to Dansui was his first time accompanying His Lordship on official business.

After just that one time, he was won over completely.

But Yang Zheng remained anxious, feeling that Zhong Piaoping was just as carefree.

To relieve his pent-up frustration, he whipped out a stone and let it fly, hitting a fist-sized hole in a willow tree trunk dead center, causing the whole tree to shudder.

Seeing that the Wen Ren residence was watertight, yielding nothing, the group changed tactics and decided to dig up dirt on Le Wuya.

However, Le Wuya hadn't been an official for long, came from a spotless family, and even a thorough search would only turn up nothing but trivialities.

Before they could fabricate proper charges or sabotage the Wen Ren family's business, Le Wuya's memorials kept coming, one after another.

All thanks to Deputy Commander Qiu's intel.

Qiu Sinian might not manage the Changmen Guard's internal affairs, but that didn't mean he had no eyes or couldn't see.

Watching the Changmen Guards who had once served Wang Su in the capital disappear one by one, someone finally couldn't sit still.

Thus, the first assassination attempt on Le Wuya occurred before the Qixi Festival (Chinese Valentine's Day).

But it was basically a dud.

Since shooting dead four soldiers at the mine in Dansui, Le Wuya had destroyed all his original arrows and applied for a batch of short arrows from the government office, loading them into his sleeve crossbows.

The Ministry of War's weapons were top-notch—sharp and quick.

They were also quick to send people to the underworld.

Qin Xingyue fought tooth and nail but only managed to take one life.

The next day wasn't a day for the morning audience, but Le Wuya stood at the palace gate at dawn, dragging four or five corpses, and with an aggrieved expression, requested an audience with the emperor. He began by praising the emperor's wisdom, then begged the emperor to do right by him, pointing out that in the heart of the capital, someone had dared to assassinate an Imperial Official—this wasn't an attack on him, but a slap in the emperor's face.

Xiang Zheng was speechless, rubbing his forehead in exasperation.

The old Le Wuya had been considerate and thoughtful, the emperor's comfort flower, never giving Xiang Zheng any trouble.

...Though he eventually caused a huge one, that no longer mattered.

What mattered was that Le Youque had never been this annoying!

He was wrapping himself in the emperor's banner, yet didn't bother to hide it, his fox tail practically wagging up to the sky!

Xiang Zheng had no choice but to grit his teeth and praise him lavishly, give him many gifts, soothe him, and encourage him to keep investigating.

Le Wuya left with his gifts, feigning grievance and indignation, but loaded down with loot.

It was in this situation that Le Wuya ran into Zhi Jie, who was entering the palace to report on matters.

Spotting him from a distance, Le Wuya broke into a smile.

With palace attendants and guards passing by, looking away or acting shifty would only raise suspicion.

They walked toward each other until they were a few paces apart, then both stopped.

Le Wuya bowed first: "This humble servant welcomes the Sixth Prince back. Has the Prince fully recovered?"

"I'm fine," Zhi Jie replied with his usual restraint and propriety. "Thank you for your concern, Censor Wenren."

A nearby eunuch reminded him, "It's now Chief Censor Wenren, Sixth Prince."

Zhi Jie put on a look of surprise at the right moment: "Is that so? Congratulations, Chief Censor Wenren. I see you're rushing about—you must be busy."

Le Wuya smiled: "Under the emperor's boundless grace, this humble servant works day and night and still feels inadequate. How could I dare to be idle? If I may ask, Sixth Prince, how are the Zhou brothers?"

"They returned with me, safe and sound, and are now in the Ministry of Justice's prison awaiting trial."

"Thank you for your efforts, Sixth Prince."

The eunuch appeared humble and respectful, but was noting down every word of their conversation.

Le Wuya pretended not to notice, his voice tinged with regret: "The Sixth Prince returns at just the right time. I hear the Qixi Festival in the capital is quite lively—there's a Qiqiao market at the East Fourth and Xidan archways. I've always enjoyed such festivities, but unfortunately, official duties keep me busy, and I have no wife to celebrate with, so I truly have no time. Fortunately, the emperor gave me gifts today, which is some comfort."

Zhi Jie had ridden hard, nearly rattling the brains of the Zhou brothers in the prison cart, just to return to the capital before Qixi.

The Qixi market, with lanterns bright as day, was filled with stalls selling mohele (clay dolls) and qiaoguo (cleverness pastries), opening annually at the hour of xu (7-9 PM).

—His master was saying that at the hour of xu on Qixi, he could meet him.

His heart warmed, tingling with anticipation, but he said aloud, "The capital is full of fine ladies, but this Prince has no such luck. Shall I introduce a few to Chief Censor Wenren?"

Le Wuya declined seriously: "The Sixth Prince must not jest. This humble servant already has someone in mind for a wife—my heart is as steadfast as a rock, immovable."

Zhi Jie secretly rejoiced, but kept his lips curved in a dignified, composed smile: "I see... that's good."

After a brief exchange, they went their separate ways.

The eunuch recorded their entire exchange, thinking to himself: His Majesty had mentioned that Lord Wenren, at his age, still had no wife, and planned to ask Lord Xie to arrange a marriage for him to win him over.

Now what was to be done?