Chapter 334: A Hundred Faces (I)

Le Wuya, naturally, was nowhere near as optimistic as Yuan Zijin.

Even a dog that's been thrown in the water can drag its soaking wet ass ashore and bite.

Much less an old, venomous snake.

Luckily, Zhou Wenchang and Zhou Wenhuan were both hard-hearted bastards. After all that time in the can, neither one had budged an inch, and at the joint hearing of the Three Judicial Offices, they still stuck to their guns, refusing to change their stories.

The unspoken bond between brothers, put to use like this, was just sad and pathetic.

Second Prince Xiang Zhizheng sat in the courtroom like a goddamn mascot.

But even so, when he heard Zhou Wenhuan confess to plotting the murder of three hundred miners, he couldn't help but slam the table and jump up: "You son of a—"

The curse was halfway out before he remembered who he was and choked it back down.

In his book, everyone involved deserved to die—minced into fine filling and baked into memorial pies for the dead miners.

But his mother had drilled it into him since he was a kid: he wasn't supposed to have "opinions" of his own.

So the second the hearing was over, he grabbed the confessions and stormed off to report to Xiang Zheng, fuming.

Le Wuya had sat in on the trial too. After seeing the Second Prince off, he noticed Zhou Wenhuan, all chained up, staggering like he was about to get up, and asked out of nowhere: "Even now, you still don't regret it?"

Zhou Wenhuan's face was a sickly yellow, his lips cracked and bone-dry. He was about to drag his leg irons off when he stopped dead at the sound.

That one pause was all Le Wuya needed to read between the lines.

How could he not regret it?

He regretted not killing Le Wuya the second he set foot in Dansui.

He regretted not keeping the soldiers in line, letting them lose their heads and put on that circus of a second riot.

He regretted... being so goddamn naive and childish, trying to take it all on himself to protect his big brother—only to get shoved out early and thrown away like a pawn.

But what the hell was regret gonna do?

He forced the words out, bitter and sarcastic: "My death alone's enough. Surely you don't expect me to drag others down with me?"

The clerk next to him snapped: "Shut it! A dead man walking dares to yell in this courtroom?"

But Le Wuya got the message.

At this point, it was just a matter of one death versus two.

Zhou Wenhuan had done the math.

...It was just that he wasn't fully at peace with it, in the end.

Meanwhile, Zhou Wenchang had already gotten up and was slowly heading out.

With his chains clanking, each step was painfully slow, painfully heavy.

Le Wuya couldn't see the look on his face, and he didn't give a damn.

The one last decent thing this guy had left in him was choosing to slow down a bit, to walk his brother—a dead man walking—one last stretch of the road.

Even if they couldn't walk shoulder to shoulder, it was better than nothing.

But this former top scholar, even after being warped so badly under Wang Su's tutelage, still couldn't grasp what "the emperor's will" really meant.

"The emperor's will" meant the emperor couldn't hassle the officials who'd gotten to the truth—wouldn't that make him petty and small-minded?

The emperor wanted to be a wise ruler, but with all that rage bottled up and nowhere to go, he'd end up taking it out on the weakest target.

So who was the easiest target with the least pull in this whole mess?

For an official who'd been convicted and stripped of his title, where he died and why would hardly turn any heads anymore.

After getting his own little brother killed, dying a quiet, unexplained death in some godforsaken corner—that was the fate waiting for top scholar Zhou Wenchang.

So Le Wuya didn't mind working with a dead man who could still talk and breathe, at least for now.

He looked away and nodded to his colleagues from the Court of Judicial Review and the Ministry of Justice, plus the folks who'd been sitting in on the hearing.

Xue Jie had been sent by Xiang Zheng to sit in on the trial too. Watching Xiang Zhizheng storm out and leave him hanging, he was about to chase after the Second Prince and head back to the palace.

As he got up, he shot Le Wuya a careful look, then slipped out without a word.

Zhang Yuanye, meanwhile, ducked his head, a little embarrassed.

For some reason, every time he caught Lord Wenren's eye and saw that calm, approving look, he felt like the man himself had just given him a personal pat on the back.

...Made his day.

Minister Geng of the Ministry of Justice, knowing this case was a hot potato, did his usual thing—claimed he was sick, went home to play dead, and shoved Vice Minister Yu Xiuqun out front to handle it again.

Vice Minister Yu had done a lot in the Huangzhou fake treasure case and was a tough nut by nature, the kind who'd dare to impeach even the emperor's inner circle. He naturally had a lot of respect for Le Wuya, and when their eyes met, he gave a proper, polite bow right away.

Looking at him, Le Wuya thought—with zero respect for his elders—that he'd find a way sooner or later to boot that useless old fossil off his seat and get someone who could actually do the job in there.

Seeing Le Wuya's bright smile, which looked friendly as hell, Vice Minister Yu stepped up and naturally started talking shop with him: "Lord Wenren, the Zhou brothers' statements all point at Wang Su, but the handwriting and physical evidence don't match his. What do we do about that?"

This was exactly what Zhang Yuanye had brought up at court, and since he knew Yu Xiuqun well, he jumped in: "Vice Minister Yu, you might not know this, but back when Wang Su was running the case against that rebel Le, his strongest evidence was letters. But a lot of those letters didn't match the rebel's real handwriting. Wang Su claimed, though, that Lord Le, back when he was Commander of the Changmen Guard, had gotten confessions out of criminals by copying other people's handwriting, so it made sense those letters didn't match his own."

"Wang Su also pushed hard that if Lord Le wouldn't confess, they should put him to the rack."

"And if Lord Le hadn't been so frail at the time that he couldn't take the torture, he would've suffered even worse."

Speaking of this, Zhang Yuanye felt a stifled resentment that had been blocked in his chest for years finally loosen.

For Wang Su, he had walked into a dead end with no way out on either side.

If he insisted that handwriting could not be forged, then most of Le Wuya's case could be overturned, and as the presiding judge, he couldn't escape the charge of careless adjudication and inadequate verification—nor could he account for the whereabouts of the "enormous assets" confiscated from the Le household back then, and he'd face prosecution for false accusation.

In years past, when Nan Ting's Chancellor Xiang Zhao was framed for rebellion by Master Chen, after the injustice was cleared, Master Chen was sentenced to death by slow slicing.

Correspondingly, if Wang Su had used a capital charge to frame Le Wuya, he should repay with a capital charge.

And if he admitted that handwriting could be forged, then things were even simpler.

...He could just wait to die.

Yu Xiuqun pursed his lips, regret gradually welling up in his heart.

In his impression, Le Wuya was hardly a good person.

Earlier, I'd privately badmouthed him, mentally stomping all over him.

He sputtered defensively, "But... Le Wuya confessed in the end, didn't he?"

"What choice did he have?" An Qile, a Supervising Secretary from the Ministry of Revenue observing the trial, piped up. "Back then, he was locked up and at their mercy—how could he have had any say in anything?"

Qiao Mengde, a Supervising Secretary from the Ministry of Personnel, gave him a look. "Supervising Secretary An, you don't remember? He admitted to several crimes himself, including killing that Liu playboy who'd murdered someone in the street..."

He turned to Zhang Yuanye, his tone flat but pointed: "Lord Zhang, if I remember right, you're the one who reported that, aren't you?"

Zhang Yuanye paused, then replied quietly, "...Yes."

Qiao Mengde turned back to An Qile, leaning in a bit. "And while we're at it, there's also your ministry's former minister... Zong Hongbin. Le Wuya confessed to conspiring with the Zong uncle and nephew to embezzle Ministry of Revenue funds for loan-sharking. Back then, your Minister Wen was just Vice Minister Wen and was at the hearing—could that have been a wrongful conviction too?"

"So where's the money?"

An Qile, not wanting to get tangled up in the Liu playboy business, shot back on the second point: "If Le Wuya claimed to have conspired with the Zong family in the loan scheme, then where's his cut of the dirty money?"

"When he was convicted of embezzlement and usury, it was because his wealth was way more than his salary could explain. Are you suggesting his stolen silver was hidden among those dozens of crates of broken bricks and dirt in the Ministry of Revenue? If you're so curious, Supervising Secretary Qiao, go to the Ministry yourself, haul those crates back, and take a good look!"

An Qile had no real connection to Le Wuya and no intention of defending him.

But this time, because the Ministry of Revenue's treasury held Le Wuya's confiscated assets, the ministry had been dragged into the whole mess by Wang Su.

When Minister of Revenue Wen Yuekai got home, the more he thought about it, the madder he got. He summoned all the ministry officials and filled them in on what happened.

The other officials, including An Qile, were furious when they heard about it.

That Wang Su, the old bastard!

What if one or two careless Ministry of Revenue officials in charge of the storerooms had broken the seals and stolen something?

Or what if Wen Yuekai had botched his reply at court?

Had it not been for Zhi Jie's smart handling when he previously managed the Ministry of Revenue—reminding them to keep a tight watch on Le Wuya's assets for the imperial treasury's use—the ministry would have suffered more than just a scratch this time.

It would have been cleaned out from top to bottom!

You old bastard, you looking to die? Consider it done.

Qiao Mengde, after being shot down, merely shrugged and said lazily, "Ah, Supervising Secretary An, let's stick to the matter at hand. No need to get so worked up."

"In my humble opinion, this case shouldn't get too tangled up with Le Wuya's old one. Once we drag up old business, His Majesty is likely to be displeased."

His stance spoke for the whole Ministry of Personnel.

As for this case, the Minister of Personnel, who was always good at playing both sides, was in fact rather displeased.

He had originally shared with Xu Yingrui the fact that Wang Su had frequently reviewed Zhou Wenchang's evaluation records, hoping to get in his good graces. But instead of catching a fox, he'd only gotten himself in a mess.

The Ministry of Personnel figured it was better to avoid trouble.

Seeing the two sides going at each other, Zhang Yuanye stepped in to mediate: "Alright, alright, we're all colleagues—why are we fighting? Lord Yue's case is indeed a mix of truth and falsehood, hard to tell what's real and what's not. But from the documentary evidence in this case, Wang Su has a habit of claiming to act on the emperor's orders. Who knows if he wasn't using imperial authority to get what he wanted in the past?"

"In my view, some cases can be reopened, and some can't. Like Supervising Secretary Qiao said, let's just focus on the case at hand."

Le Wuya watched them trade barbs without saying a word.

He didn't have to.

Through this argument, he'd gotten a clear read on the power plays, the balance of strength, and what everyone in the room really wanted.

Seeing that, he could tell how much of a chance Wang Su still had.

But all the officials had, intentionally or not, skipped over one fact:

Back then, the one who really wanted Le Wuya dead was the emperor.

If the emperor hadn't pushed for it, Jie Jitong wouldn't have gone to such lengths to dig up evidence of his crimes, nor would he have been used by Wang Su, stuffed with a bunch of half-truths and fake evidence, thus kicking off the big campaign to bring Le down.

But the emperor was still alive, so they didn't dare say it out loud.

Le Wuya propped his chin on his hand, idly thinking: How do I get rid of him?