Chapter 339: The Sovereign’s Heart (II)

Watching Wang Su, whose face was swollen purple from coughing, veins bulging, like a man possessed, Jie Jitong asked in a low voice: "Wang Su, when you first entered officialdom, what was your purpose?"

Wang Su's coughing paused for a moment, his clouded eyes drifting aimlessly.

Why?

He had passed the imperial examination at the age of thirty-six, and since then had worked tirelessly, obeying the sovereign's commands and tending to his affairs...

Before thirty-six, let alone the emperor, he'd never even laid eyes on the local prefect.

And after becoming an official, he felt like the whole world had suddenly opened up to him. He credited everything he had to the sovereign's grace, modeling himself on the loyal paragons of the classics, sharing the sovereign's joys and sorrows. He sought neither wealth nor rank, living frugally and toiling his whole life, until he finally became the emperor's most trusted confidant—even willing to discuss something as grave as framing Le Wuya to death with him...

He coughed and broke into a blissful smile: "Does it matter?"

Jie Jitong felt a chill run down his spine.

When he had not known the truth, he'd always feared turning into a sycophant like Le Wuya, but over time, he'd unknowingly become a puppet who echoed every word.

Now, to his horror, he realized he'd never been Le Wuya, and never could be.

If he kept going like this, he'd end up just another Wang Su!

A madman who knew only the emperor, had no regard for the people, and couldn't tell right from wrong!

In a panic that nearly drowned him, Jie Jitong fled as if his life depended on it.

Behind him, Wang Su's shouts echoed from a distance: "He is not innocent! When was he ever innocent?! If he were truly innocent, why would even his own wife denounce him?!"

"He's got no family, no friends—no one to say a word for him. Take Zhang Yuanye, who claims to be an old friend—did he ever lend a hand? They were all out for themselves, and now they're all stepping up one by one to play the good guy!"

"And now even you, Lord Xie, are playing the good man!"

"Hahaha!! Am I the only villain? Am I the only one?!"

His voice was hoarse and piercing, like a donkey's bray, drilling into your ears.

Jie Jitong rounded a corridor corner before skidding to a halt.

He'd caught a scrap of information:

...Qi Hongzhuang had also denounced him?

...

Word that someone was trying to overturn Le Wuya's case spread all the way to Tongzhou.

Amid the swirling rumors, Zong Yao, who'd been deeply caught up in Le Wuya's case, paid them no mind.

It was Mu Jiazhi who, having learned his lesson about neglecting those around him, worried his colleague might be weighed down by old wounds and let it affect his work.

He clumsily went to check on Zong Yao, only to get a gentle reply: "Thank you, Assistant Prefect Mu, I'm fine."

The more he said that, the more Mu Jiazhi felt he was hiding his pain: "Wenzhi, no need to tough it out."

To his surprise, Zong Yao said very seriously: "Whether or not my teacher's case is overturned, my uncle and brother can't escape their guilt. They sinned and reaped the rewards—it's karma. The evidence is conclusive; it's only fitting. Even if my teacher clears his name, they can't."

Mu Jiazhi hadn't expected him to be so blunt: "You don't hate Le Wuya?"

"I hated him at first. Later, once it was a done deal, I hated him less." Zong Yao spoke frankly. "Besides, I've always thought my uncle, my brother, and my teacher were all sanctimonious, smooth-talking types. Things are already as good as they can be. At least when my teacher taught me how to be an official, he was sincere."

At that, Zong Yao drifted into memory.

Over the years, when he thought of his uncle and brother, what came to mind were warm, affectionate scenes from childhood.

But the grand lessons they'd taught him had been completely wiped from his mind.

What stood out most vividly in Zong Yao's memory was a conversation with Le Wuya.

It was at his uncle's birthday banquet, when Le Wuya first learned he was Zong Hongbin's nephew and Zong Kun's younger brother.

Before leaving, he said quietly: "Wenzhi. Be a good official."

Zong Yao, new to officialdom, looked at him with clear eyes and asked sincerely: "May I ask, teacher, what does 'good' mean?"

Like his teacher—young and accomplished, shooting straight to the top?

That would be impressive, really something.

As Zong Yao gazed at him, starry-eyed, Le Wuya seemed to read his mind: "Fast or slow doesn't matter—just keep your feet on the ground and your conscience clear."

At the time, Zong Yao couldn't help feeling disappointed, thinking it was the most clichéd of platitudes.

Surely he, a living man, wouldn't betray his own heart?

Now, looking back, he really had kept that promise—his conscience was clear.

Whether it was shooting that young thug Liu with an arrow, or sullying his own name to drag down his uncle and brother, his teacher had never changed.

Whoever did something that weighed on their conscience had to be ready for a knife in the back from him.

No distinction between kin or stranger, close or distant.

Mu Jiazhi, however, was getting more and more confused.

The news had just come from the capital, mixed with all sorts of rumors and speculation. He hadn't witnessed those events back then and didn't know the truth—he couldn't even be sure whether the overturning of Le Wuya's case was real or not.

But he vaguely caught Zong Yao's meaning.

He wondered: "Could Le Wuya actually be... innocent?"

Just then, a clerk happened to walk by carrying case files.

Knowing full well that walls have ears, Zong Yao immediately raised a hand and cut him off with a smile: "Brother Liang Xian, Tongzhou keeps me way too busy—where would I find the energy for idle thoughts?"

"I like it here. Keeping my feet on the ground and my conscience clear matters more than anything, don't you think?"

Though Mu Jiazhi was still worried, seeing such resolve in him put his mind at ease, and he solemnly clasped his hands in a bow.

...

Qi Hongzhuang had laid out a feast at home, drinking under the moon, enjoying herself.

She'd just returned from a long voyage, her business thriving, and on getting back had heard such good news—joy lifted her spirits, and she drank several cups more than usual.

Guo Guzi drank with her, her cheeks flushed too.

After several rounds, the wine went to their heads. Facing the person she trusted most, Qi Hongzhuang smiled, tilted her head back, and gazed at the crescent moon: "How wonderful."

Guo Guzi didn't talk much, but seeing how happy Qi Hongzhuang looked, she felt happy too and had three more cups with her.

Qi Hongzhuang, loosened up now, opened up: "Do you know what happened to me?"

Guo Guzi rarely heard her mention the past, and only knew a bit about her awkward past, so she shook her head.

Qi Hongzhuang ran her finger around the rim of her cup and said, "I married him because someone wanted me to spy on him, to watch his every move."

Guo Guzi blinked: "Huh?"

"He knew from the start." Qi Hongzhuang smiled.

Guo Guzi: "...Huh??"

She was pure-hearted and wondered to herself—what was the point of a life like that, full of mutual suspicion?

But Qi Hongzhuang's last words blew all her thoughts away: "In the end, it was I who reported him with my own hands."

Guo Guzi: "Huh???"

Qi Hongzhuang drifted into memory.

That day, Le Wuya came home and got straight to the point: "Sister Qi, last year, my old men from the Tianlang Camp got transferred to the capital."

Qi Hongzhuang had no idea why he was bringing up something from last year.

She handed him the warm ginger tea she'd made: "That's a good thing."

Le Wuya took the cup, pinched his nose, reluctant, and chugged half of it, then his eyes suddenly brightened. "This ginger tea's sweet! Good stuff!"

While Le Wuya enjoyed his ginger tea, Qi Hongzhuang dropped her gaze a little.

That person was right.

He did have a sweet tooth, especially for anything with honey.

After he finished the tea, he showed no sign of leaving, and instead went on about his old subordinate: "His achievements were enough to get him a post in the capital, but he came from a humble background. Yet the emperor was willing to let him serve in the palace, handling security... and he knows stuff he shouldn't."

"What stuff?"

Le Wuya said, dead serious, "The fact that I'm not the Le family's real son."

Qi Hongzhuang thought it was funny.

What nonsense—how could he say that with a straight face to fool her?

If he wasn't a Le, whose kid was he? Did he drop from the sky?

But then, Le Wuya spilled it all out like beans from a bamboo tube, revealing his whole background and the entire story from start to finish.

As she listened, Qi Hongzhuang's palms slowly went cold.

When he finished, she immediately zeroed in on the heart of the matter: "Why are you telling me all this?"

Le Wuya seemed to avoid the question:

"The emperor feels guilty toward me, so of course he's on edge."

"Earlier, when the Jiusi Hall caught fire, I saved him. Maybe it seemed too much of a coincidence—he might be thinking, 'Why did the Jiusi Hall catch fire when Le Wuya was around? Why was it him who saved me?' Now he sends someone to test me, which makes sense."

Qi Hongzhuang said without a beat, "He's crazy."

"Not exactly crazy." Le Wuya dropped a bombshell. "The Jiusi Hall fire—yeah, I started it."

Qi Hongzhuang was speechless.

She quickly switched gears and pressed, "Does he have something on you?"

Even now, Le Wuya still had a bit of petty smugness: "If he could catch me with real proof, would I still be Le Wuya?"

Qi Hongzhuang was angry and anxious, her usual cool gone, replaced by a fierce look like she was about to grab an axe and go chop someone: "Not the time for jokes!"

"Then let me tell Sister Qi something useful." He looked up, his face sharp and lean, making his eyes seem even larger and brighter, "Over the years, I've been monitoring the officials for the emperor—establishing the Yuanyu Prison, founding the Changmen Guard—and I've learned many officials' secrets and dirty dealings. Seeing me grow in power, he's become deeply uneasy."

"I know too much. If I privately used those secrets to threaten officials, I could form a faction of my own."

"Now that he's old, he wants to consolidate power more than ever, and I'm standing in his way."

Qi Hongzhuang always approached things with an eye toward "solving" them.

She hesitated a moment, then said, "That man from the Tianlang Camp—did he tell you about your origins today?"

Le Wuya nodded: "Just now."

Qi Hongzhuang pushed his shoulder: "Go to the palace immediately and report him! Say this man, entrusted by unknown parties, tried to sow discord between ruler and minister—and pledge your loyalty right in front of the emperor! Put it all out in the open, and at least he won't move against you for a while!"

Le Wuya pressed, "And after that while?"

Qi Hongzhuang was momentarily at a loss for words.

But she actually had an answer.

Le Wuya crouched before her and said earnestly, "Sister Qi, you know I don't have much time left. You want me to hold on until I die of illness, at least living peacefully until then, right?"

Qi Hongzhuang was silent for a moment, then said decisively, "That's the best way. I'll write to him, telling him you're sick, very sick. Knowing you won't live long, he won't trouble you. Before you die, he'll be more than willing to play out this charade of harmony between ruler and minister."

"No." Le Wuya shook his head firmly. "You've kept my condition from him all this time—there's no need to tell him now."

Seeing Qi Hongzhuang about to speak, Le Wuya made a shushing gesture: "When I die, it's over for me, but he planted me in the Le family as a hidden pawn—wasn't that to suppress them?"

"This hidden bomb—if I don't set it off before I die, it will go off after I'm gone."

"By then, whether it's the Le family or you, everyone will be in danger. Without me to absorb the fire, all his suspicions will turn toward the Le family, believe me? He might even use the pretext of seeking justice for me to openly punish the entire Le family."

"Sister Qi, as for you—in your letters, I was always fine, yet suddenly I'm so gravely ill... Sister Qi, the crime of withholding information alone would be enough to ruin you."

"For the imperial family, making someone 'die of illness' or 'die with her husband' is far too easy."

After saying all this, he lowered his head and took a long while to catch his breath before continuing with a smile in his eyes: "Besides, I really do know many secrets. If I can't spit them all out before I die and have to carry them to the grave, I'd be miserable."

"I originally wanted to take him down with me in one go, but since he already suspects I might assassinate him, making a move now would be nearly impossible."

Qi Hongzhuang tried to console him: "He has no real evidence after all. How can he act on mere suspicion?"

"An ordinary person couldn't, of course." Le Wuya's eyes shone brilliantly. "But he's the emperor."

"At that point, given his character, he might fabricate an assassination attempt and pin it on me—who knows."

"For him to want a man dead, is it really that hard?"

Qi Hongzhuang looked at him, unable to speak.

He had even planned out how he would die, and could joke about it so lightly.

"What's the point of telling me all this?"

"Of course there's a point. Just hear me out."

Le Wuya crouched before her, his voice carrying a naturally coaxing, childlike lilt.

Seeing him acting all obedient, like a little brother, Qi Hongzhuang held back the feelings churning in her chest and stared at him steadily.

His pale, handsome face had a strange glow, and smiling, he pressed his palms together in a plea. "Sister Qi, write me a few letters denouncing me, won't you?"

Qi Hongzhuang blurted out, "No!"

Le Wuya said calmly, coaching her, "Just write that starting today, I often voice grievances at home, showing disrespect toward the emperor. You don't have to say 'kill the emperor' outright—just steer it that way. When the time is right, deliver it to the palace."

"That way, you'll get credit for spying, and it'll be a big deal."

Tears welled up in Qi Hongzhuang's eyes. "No."

"Sister, do you want to live?" Le Wuya looked at her with encouragement. "If you want to live, this is your ticket to survival. You serve the emperor loyally, report truthfully, pose no threat to his life, and are the paragon of filial piety he himself honored. Of course, he won't punish you openly—at most, he'll hint for you to take your own life. When that happens, just treat it as him talking nonsense."

"Only if you live is there a future."

"Who knows, those letters might come in handy for something else later."