Chapter 62: A Reprimand

Chapter 62: A Warning

Xiang Zhi thought, this man truly has no shame.

Going around in circles—wasn't he just after his portrait?

He was both annoyed and amused: "Magistrate Wenren, are you treating us brothers as door gods?"

Le Wuya looked utterly innocent: "Aren't both of them you?"

The Seventh Prince, in his mental list of Wen Ren Yue's offenses, followed "shameless" with another scathing entry: "silver-tongued."

Yet despite it all, he couldn't stop smiling.

After leaving Nanting, he silently laughed all the way from Qu'an to Zhangping, Quchuan, and finally the capital.

...

As summer arrived, the new portrait of Xiao Qi was delivered to the Nanting county office.

In this painting, he had returned to his true noble form—dressed in light furs and loose sashes, elegant in bearing, even with a trendy floral mark painted on his forehead.

Le Wuya hung both portraits of Xiao Qi side by side in the hall, studied them for a long while, and let out a soft sigh.

If only the two of them could truly stand shoulder to shoulder like in the painting, brothers getting along—that would be wonderful.

Gazing at the two Xiao Qis, a thought suddenly hit Le Wuya:

With all the recent chaos in county affairs, he hadn't been in touch with Xiao Liu as much.

He wondered what courtesy name Xiao Liu had chosen.

Speak of the devil.

Jiang He arrived in Nanting once again, carrying a new bamboo flute and ten fancy carved walnut ornaments.

According to him, these carved walnuts were really popular in the capital lately.

Xiao Liu really gets him!

As Le Wuya admired the walnuts, he glanced sideways at Jiang He.

Seeing Jiang He looking down and quiet, Le Wuya figured Jiang He had probably been the one to leak his message, allowing Xiao Qi to seize the opportunity.

He put down the letter: "I hear Lord Jiang hails from the Tianlang Camp?"

Lately, no one had blamed Jiang He for the leak.

After all, everyone in the Sixth Prince's household knew the Seventh Prince's temperament—almost all of them had been fooled by him at some point.

But this was Jiang He's first time getting fooled.

When Le Wuya brought up his Tianlang Camp background, Jiang He's first reaction was shame.

He'd served under Young General Yue, yet he'd been fooled by such a cheap trick...

He muttered, "Yes."

Le Wuya: "..." Tsk.

Jiang He was someone Le Wuya had discovered and trained himself. Le Wuya loved to mess with him, but that didn't mean others could push him around.

He tapped the table with his fingertip: "Being stuck in Nanting, I sometimes hear people say the old commander of the Tianlang Camp was a sly guy."

Jiang He looked up and seriously objected: "No. The young general was brilliant—I could never measure up to him in a lifetime."

"That's interesting," Le Wuya said. "If Young General Yue was so smart, why would he keep someone around who could never match him?"

Jiang He didn't talk much, and the name "Le Wuya" was a well-known taboo. It had been a long time since he'd talked so openly about his old master.

He looked at the magistrate in front of him, looking a bit confused.

"Obviously, what he liked about you wasn't your brains," Le Wuya said. "He liked your loyalty, your depth of emotion, your innocence. As long as you keep those qualities, if he were reborn, he could love you all over again for a lifetime."

Jiang He didn't say anything, but his eyes lit up.

"Next time, just look closely," Le Wuya said, unable to help patting his shoulder and leaning in to whisper, "Actually, it's easy to tell them apart. You don't have to check ear piercings—you don't even have to say anything. Just look into his eyes."

Jiang He waited for more, then finally remembered to ask: "...And then?"

Le Wuya: "Just keep looking at him. The one who can't help smiling in the end—that's the fake one."

Jiang He was thrilled, his face blank: "..." That's easy!

He stood up and bowed respectfully: "Thanks for the advice, Magistrate Wenren."

Le Wuya waved his soft fan carelessly: "No need to thank me. Lord Jiang, I'm off."

He said both "Lord Jiang" and "I" without any real sincerity.

Luckily, Jiang He was simple-hearted.

For someone as crafty as Le Wuya, he genuinely liked people like that.

Back at the county office, Le Wuya immediately had someone sketch out the carved walnut designs and rounded up a group of local Nanting craftsmen, telling them to study it carefully and make more variations before autumn.

Even though Yizhou was remote and far from the capital, lots of poets, scholars, and retired officials lived there long-term, naturally picking up the refined habits of appreciating antiques, rolling walnuts, and hosting poetry and wine parties.

Anything with the "capital" label was enough to stir their longing and desire to copy it.

If these craftsmen were willing to put in the work, there was no worry about opening up local sales.

This matter was handled entirely by Clerk Luo Hongfang.

Le Wuya made it clear to the craftsmen: those who carved fast would get a cut of the profits; those who carved beautifully would get another cut, and Le Wuya would also find a way to sell their stuff to the far-off capital.

If they won the favor of nobles in the capital and landed a bright future, Le Wuya would never hold them back.

But they must never forget the "Nanting Walnut Carving" brand, and no matter where they went, they should always bring it up.

Clerk Luo wrote all this down, drafted the contracts, and had the craftsmen sign and seal them.

At first, when they saw the contracts, the craftsmen worried they were indentured servitude deeds and got anxious. They called over literate friends to read them, and when they saw that the magistrate not only promised benefits but also a future—with every clause clearly laid out, and even doctors arranged for free regular checkups and massages to protect their hands and eyes—they were thrilled.

Six or seven out of ten craftsmen signed right away and quickly got to work.

After arranging all this, Le Wuya was in a great mood. He grabbed paper and brush, and with a flourish, wrote a letter: "Recently, Xiu Guan arrived in Nanting to check on mining matters. As my thoughts wander, I suddenly miss friends and family far away. May I ask what courtesy name the Sixth Prince has chosen?"

As his teacher, it was only natural for him to care about what courtesy name his student had picked.

After sending the letter, he threw himself back into his "little venture" at hand.

The craftsmen worked with astonishing speed, carving a new pattern from aged walnuts, and delivered it to Le Wuya's desk half a month later.

Le Wuya took these carved walnuts, mounted his small yellow horse, and led Er Ya along by the reins, heading to the prefectural capital of Yizhou for Prefect Lyu's monthly meeting of county magistrates, handing out the walnuts as gifts to his colleagues along the way.

From winter to summer, Prefect Lyu remained the same benevolent yet listless old goat.

As spring turned to summer, the matter of the river channels was set to be put on the agenda.

He fiddled with the newly acquired carved walnuts, gave his usual reminders to the magistrates along the river, and then fixed his gaze on Le Wuya.

He asked, sounding concerned, "I hear the Imperial Commissioner from the capital has recently visited Nanting again?"

Le Wuya nodded with a smile, feigning shyness: "It's still because of last year's case, which caught the attention of the officials in the capital. It shows the Emperor cares deeply about the safety of scholars."

By saying this, he left a conversational hook.

If Prefect Lyu wasn't looking for trouble, his words could naturally segue into next year's provincial examination for scholars.

But Prefect Lyu seemed oblivious and teased, "That's not all, is it? Ming Ke, you're a young talent with striking looks—who wouldn't fancy you? Even I'm intrigued."

The magistrates present laughed, half sincerely, half out of obligation.

Only Qi Wuhu, seated below, frowned openly, without any pretense.

That was a disgusting thing to say.

He itched to say something, but Le Wuya cut him off.

Le Wuya said calmly, "I thank the Prefect for his praise."

A compliment on his looks. Got it.

Le Wuya, looking in the mirror, had noticed he'd grown more handsome lately—layering his former appearance over Wen Ren's natural bone structure, he'd become even more striking.

The old man had lousy character but decent taste.

Seeing him play dumb, Prefect Lyu took it as a concession and, pleased with himself, raised his teacup: "Focus on governance, but also build harmony. Don't meddle in everything. The recent business with the wandering beggars in Nanting has just died down, and I hear you're setting up... some kind of water stall?"

Le Wuya nodded: "Yes, Nanting's coal mine produces some unusable coal dust and cinder daily. I've set up water stalls next to the county's wells, boiling well water with the coal dust and sealing it in iron drums. Locals can drink it for free, and passing merchants can get a cup for one copper coin."

Prefect Lyu shook his head vigorously: "Such waste, such waste. Ming Ke, you're still young and don't know how many troublemakers there are among the common people. This way, won't they come to depend on your hot water for all three meals?"

Le Wuya: "I appreciate the advice, Prefect. But if the people drink more hot water, it can ward off many epidemics. I'd be happy if they thought of this hot water every day."

One magistrate joked, "Ming Ke, as a parent-official, you're so meticulous you're practically becoming the people's daddy and mommy. Why not just post a notice or issue an order telling them to boil their own water and explaining the benefits?"

Le Wuya shot back with a single question: "It's not that they don't want hot water—but where would they find the money to buy firewood?"

"My Nanting is blessed with coal mines, a gift from heaven. If we only use it for profit, wouldn't we be betraying heaven's compassion for the people?"

"Ming Ke is indeed meticulous and capable." Prefect Lyu smiled without warmth, scanning the officials seated below, and drawled, "Gentlemen—you should all learn from Ming Ke. This earnest love for the people must not be outdone by the younger generation."

Qi Wuhu, for once, answered loudly, "Yes."

However, many officials lowered their heads, sipped their tea, or spat out tea leaves—few responded.

Wen Ren Yue was a good official and a capable minister—they all saw it and knew it well.

But if this moon in the sky made them look like mud underfoot, that wouldn't do.

Seeing his goal achieved, Prefect Lyu smiled inwardly, scheming:

This man had strong backing but humble origins.

Purchasing his office and coming from a merchant family—both were obstacles to his rise.

Since the founding of Dayu, someone of such low birth could reach at most the fourth rank, and never surpass his own fourth-rank position.

He might have pleased those two Imperial Commissioners, but even those princes couldn't overstep and push such a lowly official before the Emperor.

The Emperor had praised him, but only because of the scholar rebellion case.

Prefect Lyu had initially wanted him to curry favor, but given the chance, this Wen Ren Yue was ungrateful and repeatedly used the princes to pressure him, seemingly unaware that his performance review was entirely in Prefect Lyu's hands.

When the review came, his fate depended solely on Prefect Lyu's pen—whatever he wrote would stand.

Yet the fool didn't know his place and insisted on standing out.

Little did he know, the more he did, the more mistakes he'd make.

For instance, with this water stall—if a child or elder got scalded, that would be interesting.

Then his review could be justifiably downgraded—

At that thought, before Prefect Lyu could even chuckle, he saw that handsome face below smile slightly: "You flatter me, Prefect. How dare I presume? I'm new to officialdom, feeling my way through everything. Take the recent beggar affair—I never anticipated it and could only muddle through, ultimately relying on the Imperial Commissioner to clean up, earning a stern rebuke. In the end, I don't even know what the Commissioner found—it's become a murky, unresolved matter..."

At this, Le Wuya turned with a smile to face Prefect Lyu's suddenly changed expression: "In my view, being an official is like crossing a river. When you can't gauge the depth, you must bend down and feel for stones to move forward. Never underestimate any shallow spot—there might be hidden currents, impossible to guard against."

"Once you misjudge the depth or fail to discern the high from low, even a skilled swimmer, let alone a novice, can drown."

"...Prefect, does my insight hold any merit?"