Chapter 340: The Sovereign’s Heart (III)

...Le Wuya had lied to her.

How could he possibly know he had a second life?

He was just humoring her.

If she refused to write, Le Wuya would roll up his sleeves, get down to business himself, and use his mimicry skills to draft the letter of accusation on her behalf.

Who'd have thought that throwaway line from back then would actually come true today?

And now, sure enough, that letter had actually turned out to be useful.

...

In the Shouren Hall, autumn wind rustled, dead leaves tapping at the windows.

When Xue Jie went to check the windows a second time, he suddenly heard a slow, heavy sigh from the dragon bed.

He crept closer and asked softly, "Your Majesty?"

Xiang Zheng sat up without a sound.

Xue Jie carefully pulled back the bed curtains.

In the candlelight, Xue Jie caught sight of his gaunt face.

For the hundredth time, he was sure the emperor had really aged.

Not just in looks, but in his heart too.

Xue Jie looked away at just the right moment: "Your Majesty, should I have a bowl of calming soup brought in?"

But Xiang Zheng asked instead, "Xue Jie, tell me—could the person Wen Ren met be Le Wuya?"

Back then, when Xiang Zheng had faked his own assassination, Xue Jie was one of the few who knew the truth.

He dropped to his knees at once, saying nothing.

Xiang Zheng shot him a sidelong glance, his loose nightclothes hanging open at his chest: "Speak."

Xue Jie answered with a question of his own: "If it is him, would Your Majesty kill him again?"

Now it was Xiang Zheng's turn to go quiet.

After a beat, he let out a scoffing laugh: "Getting sneakier with age. Since when do you get to ask me questions?"

Xue Jie ducked his head even lower.

Xiang Zheng let out a long sigh and said, "Back then, everyone had their own troubles. Even now, I still wonder... whether I killed him by mistake."

Xue Jie remained silent.

He nearly pressed his forehead into the footrest by the bed, the cold, hard rosewood digging into his forehead, leaving a deep red mark.

...

Back when Le Wuya was executed, the emperor truly had no evidence at all.

In Xiang Zheng's eyes, no matter how extraordinary Le Wuya was, he was still just flesh and blood—not some ghost or demon. How could he call down thunder from the sky to strike a true dragon like him?

The day lightning hit the Jiusi Hall, it was Le Wuya who'd pulled him out of the fire.

That was a massive deed that couldn't be rewarded enough.

But precisely because that deed was so huge, once Xiang Zheng calmed down, he couldn't help but think back to old grudges.

—He had done Le Wuya wrong.

Even after years of endless favors and rewards, forcing a man of foreign blood to call a foreign land his home, tricking him into slaughtering his own family with his own hands—that wasn't exactly something to be proud of.

And this minister he'd built up all on his own owed him both for saving his life and for kidnapping and plundering him.

This double moral burden weighed on Xiang Zheng's shoulders, making him feel, around this man, like he was always three inches shorter.

Add to that the fact that Le Wuya was way too good at playing people, countless schemes hidden behind those warm, lively, smiling eyes...

Xiang Zheng had seen with his own eyes how Le Wuya charmed a third-rank official into thinking of him as a lifelong best friend, so that, drunk and merry, the guy casually confessed to grabbing land and burying tenants alive, like it was all a joke.

When Le Wuya oversaw the execution of that official's whole family, the guy felt betrayed by his best friend and cursed him out with every insult he could think of.

Not only did Le Wuya take it all without flinching, he even strolled over and whispered a few gentle words.

Hearing that, the official—for reasons unknown—suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood, collapsed, and died right there.

The executioner had just taken a sip of water, getting ready to spray it on the blade, when he saw the day's main attraction keel over dead. He stared blankly for a long moment, swallowed the water with a gulp, and incredulously leaned in to check for breath.

...Truly dead.

Xiang Zheng summoned the Changmen Guard who had been present and questioned him.

That guard happened to have been standing not far from Le Wuya.

He was quite proud, straightened his back, and faithfully reported Le Wuya's words.

At the time, Le Wuya had said with a smile in his eyes: "Safe travels, no need to see you off. Don't do bad things in your next life—and if you do, remember to steer clear of a man named Le Wuya, or I'll kill you every time I see you."

Yet when Xiang Zheng heard this, he did not rejoice at having gained a capable minister.

On the contrary, a chill shot up his spine:

This man wore a smile on his face while hiding a blade behind his back—his thoughts were simply too inscrutable.

Xiang Zheng had sailed through life smoothly, and the late emperor was nothing but a mediocre fool who had only secured the throne through sheer luck.

He had never had to read the late emperor's moods, nor had he ever needed to divine any imperial intentions.

Because although the late emperor was still alive in body, his heart had long since drifted beyond the mortal world, detached from all earthly concerns.

But with Le Wuya, Xiang Zheng experienced a restlessness and unease he had never known before.

After reaching adulthood, this man had gradually distanced himself not only from the Le family but had cut ties with old friends one by one, living as a true solitary figure.

This was terrifying.

Even Xiang Zheng himself could not completely sever all worldly bonds and be utterly free of attachments. He still had regrets, refusals, and people and matters he could not let go.

Yet Le Wuya remained ever with brows curved in a smile, hands tucked in sleeves with a gentle grin, observing all the world's people with warmth and indifference alike, bearing not a trace of the vitality a living person should possess.

This inevitably made Xiang Zheng wonder: Did he know something?

Xue Jie was well aware that the emperor hated not having people and things under his control.

So, he secretly summoned the former members of Le Wuya's Tianlang Camp and laid a deadly trap for him.

However, Le Wuya didn't make any extra moves at all.

He lived his life as usual, did his job as usual, and when facing the emperor, he still flashed a bright smile and flattered him without missing a beat, giving Xiang Zheng the creeps.

What kind of man was this?

Either insanely loyal, or insanely treacherous!

Xiang Zheng didn't dare—and even less wanted—to bet on the latter.

That was the whole backstory of Le Wuya's rebellion case.

...

Xue Jie, who witnessed the whole thing, had also watched Xiang Zheng's moods change over the years.

Le Wuya knew damn well he'd been wronged by Xiang Zheng.

Yet, smooth-talker that he was, he never tried to defend himself, just going along with Wang Su's questioning, dragging in a long list of corrupt officials, and in the end, even helping clean up Dayu's officialdom.

In public or in private, even locked up, he never said a bad word about Xiang Zheng.

Most importantly, before his death, the last words he passed through the jailer didn't carry a trace of resentment:

"Over the years, I thank Your Majesty for your guidance and trust. The sinner Le Wuya can't repay you, only hoping that in the next life, I'll surely make it up to you."

Aside from that remark about being gay, this was, for a ruler and his subject, a genuinely touching goodbye.

However, in the secret letters Qi Hongzhuang sent, it was mentioned that ever since he found out from the old Tianlang Camp guys that he was Jing tribe, Le Wuya had privately bitched about the emperor, cursing him for being cold and heartless, accusing him of betraying his loyalty, and even thinking about just packing up and running back to the Jing tribe.

Qi Hongzhuang, in her letters, had piled on her own curses too.

These secret letters, while Le Wuya was alive, were solid proof of his two-facedness and disloyalty.

But after his death, when Xiang Zheng read them again, he found a rare hint of humanity in them.

Le Wuya really did hold a grudge.

Yet, like those scholars who compared themselves to bitter wives and wrote tons of grievance poems, it was just complaining—not real hatred.

Otherwise, why had he never once blown up in front of him, even at the very end?

After Le Wuya left, the emperor lost a capable and likable aide and had a hard time adjusting.

So he'd often miss Le Wuya at the weirdest times and keep thinking: Since he was either insanely treacherous or insanely loyal, why couldn't he be a once-in-a-millennium loyal minister?

Of course, if time could rewind and Xiang Zheng had to choose again, he'd still kill him.

Not killing him—uneasy. Killing him—regretful.

—You could say the emperor's tangled feelings of admiration, suspicion, guilt, and wariness toward Le Wuya had never been given to anyone else.

And now, all these unspoken feelings were dumped onto this Wen Ren Yue, who looked like him but wasn't him.

...

Seeing Xue Jie kneeling there like a pathetic old turtle, Xiang Zheng chuckled: "Look at you, why so scared? I never said I was going to kill him."

Xue Jie straightened up a bit: "This servant oversteps—I'm only supposed to answer Your Majesty's questions, not ask my own."

"I forgive you. Get up." Xiang Zheng casually smoothed the blanket, sounding relaxed, "If Wen Ren Yue really is Le Wuya, then he must've come back to repay a favor."

Xue Jie froze halfway up.

Even though he'd served the emperor for years and weathered plenty of storms, hearing such a wild theory, he still had to hold back his shock for a long moment: "Your Majesty, this servant is slow...?"

Xiang Zheng shot back: "Don't you remember? Before Le Wuya left, he said, 'Only hoping that in the next life, I'll surely repay you.' Now he's come back through reincarnation, still working his ass off for my empire—opening trade routes, fighting the Japanese pirates—isn't that exactly keeping his old promise, heart unchanged?"

Of course, saying that, Xiang Zheng still needed to test whether this reincarnation story was even believable.

Wen Ren Yue had a clean background, and though his rise was smooth, he'd earned it step by step—unlike Le Wuya, who'd been soaked in the capital's officialdom for years, making tons of enemies and drawing jealousy.

Xiang Zheng could use the reorganization of the Changmen Guard to make Wen Ren Yue offend more people in the official world.

If the reincarnation thing was fake, fine.

If it was actually true...

Then, once he'd swapped bodies and gotten a new life, this guy wouldn't be kept around either.

At that point, he'd reenact Le Wuya's rebellion case all over again.

But this time, Xiang Zheng wouldn't toss him into a mass grave.

He'd show mercy and let him be buried in the imperial mausoleum next to his old body, to reward his two lifetimes of loyalty.

...

While Xiang Zheng was kept up at night by his own twisted thoughts, Le Wuya's thinking was way simpler.

He lay on his stomach on the bed, grinning, thinking, thank god he'd had Sister Qi write those snitch letters—not only had it saved her life, but it'd also left a lifeline for his own reborn self.

The old bastard was so twisted up now, and the fact that he hadn't immediately had this freak who looked so much like Le Wuya secretly killed was probably because of that tiny bit of guilt.

Even if it was just a little, it was enough to keep Le Wuya alive for a while.

Le Wuya propped his chin on his hand, smugly swinging his feet, thinking: Looks like good deeds really do pay off.

Author's note:

Yaya, Xiang Zheng's strictest dad √

A dad's eyes are the scariest thing in a man's life—the rest, I forgot.