Comeback (1)

Early in the morning, Deputy Magistrate Sun Rusun, arrived at his office in good spirits.

The wine at Yuanwaifu had been excellent and the two of them had drunk and talked their fill — everything had gone just right.

As soon as he entered the hall, Secretary Zhang from the Penal Office bowed and greeted him: "Good morning, sir."

Magistrate Sun waved his hand.

Secretary Zhang understood and came forward.

Magistrate Sun said: "I heard that Mingke went to the prison last night. Did he find out anything?"

Zhang Shuli said with a smile: "It was too late yesterday. I wanted to stall him, but he walked so quickly that I couldn't follow him. However, there are always people keeping watch in the South Prison. Chen Wang, the prison chief from the Chen family, came this morning and asked me to pass word to you: Scholar Ming shouted to Ming Ke last night that he was wrongly accused."

Magistrate Sun frowned: "He still hasn't given up?"

"He may be confused from illness," Secretary Zhang said. "Besides, Chen Wang had something else to pass along..."

He lowered his voice and told Magistrate Sun what Le Wuya had said to Chen Wang regarding his intention to get Scholar Ming to confess.

Magistrate Sun didn't believe it.

He asked: "Has he had a change of heart? Or is this just more of the same?"

Secretary Zhang flattered him at the right moment: "No matter how clever Monkey Sun is, he can't escape the palm of Buddha's hand. What's more..."

He pursed his lips and said, "That one is the monk Sha Wujing through and through!"

Magistrate Sun smiled and was about to make a joke when Clerk Duan from the household department came running up: "Your Excellency, the master is in the back hall and has asked you to come see him."

Secretary Zhang stared wide-eyed: "Watch your words! Who is the master here? Don't you know how to address him properly?"

Secretary Duan seemed slow to grasp the rebuke. He was not bothered by the scolding and simply grinned blankly.

Magistrate Sun waved his hand nonchalantly: "I'll be right there."

He tucked his hands into his sleeves and walked toward the back hall.

Although Zhang Shuli was fond of empty flattery, there was one thing he had said correctly.

In this case, even Monkey Sun could not find any opening to exploit.

The witness had been found by them, and Scholar Ming had duly signed and stamped the document.

With witnesses and material evidence all in order, the insistence on holding back and delaying had already earned Wenren Yue a reputation as an obstinate man in the eyes of Lord Zhizhou.

If Lord Zhizhou grew annoyed at the delay, he need only write one letter, and Wenren Yue would have to surrender the official robes he had bought with good money.

Everyone must know their place.

When one's virtue does not match his position, disaster comes sooner or later.

When Deputy Magistrate Sun entered the back hall, he set aside all his schemes and behaved himself. He bowed and said, "Good morning, sir."

Le Wuya was reading a book. When he saw him come in, he kept his hands on the book and glanced up, gesturing for him to sit.

Magistrate Sun's original intention was to press Le Wuya to hand over the case file as soon as possible, but he could hardly ask directly how long he planned to delay, so he sat down and said politely: "Sir has been hard at work since early in the morning..."

He glanced at Le Wuya's book and fell silent.

It was a martial arts pamphlet, with two small figures dueling with swords on the cover.

Magistrate Sun could no longer continue his intended compliment, so he changed the subject: "Sir, will you be sitting in court to hear the case today?"

Le Wuya shook his head and quickly scanned to the end of the page. After confirming that the swordsman had defeated the villain in this round, he let out a sigh of relief, put down the book, and sat up straight: "Lord Magistrate Sun, I want to have a candid talk with you."

Rather than feeling relieved, Magistrate Sun grew more guarded: "Please, go ahead."

Nothing good ever comes from such openings.

Who knew what tricks he was about to play?

Sure enough, this young man could not contain himself — his purpose was revealed the moment he opened his mouth: "What do you make of Scholar Ming's case?"

Magistrate Sun deflected the question smoothly: "What insight could I offer? I am simply acting in accordance with the law."

Le Wuya held the scroll against his chin: "The law is impartial. What else can one do?"

Magistrate Sun kept smiling without answering, waiting to see what move he would make next.

Unexpected, Le Wuya waved his hand: "All right, nothing more to discuss. You may withdraw."

Magistrate Sun thought: "...That's it?"

He was suspicious and did not leave immediately.

Le Wuya glanced at him: "Is there something you need, Lord Magistrate? I still have some serious studying to do."

Magistrate Sun felt a twinge of discomfort at being addressed that way.

When people addressed him, they usually called him Magistrate — the "Lord" tacked on always sounded a bit off to him.

Magistrate Sun glanced at the martial arts book in his hand and said with a smile: "If sir is not sitting in court today, do you have something important to attend to?"

"Indeed."

Le Wuya's answer once again exceeded his expectations.

"I went to the Nancheng prison last night. The Deputy Magistrate's network of informants is extensive - you must already know." He tapped his palm with the book. "The case files and records have been reorganized. Just find someone to deliver them. Tell Lord Zhizhou that my book is reaching its climactic competition arc — it is a critical moment, so I will not go and deliver them in person."

Magistrate Sun felt uncomfortable again.

In the past, Wenren Yue could be read with a single glance. Everything had been clear, easy to manage.

But this Wenren Yue — he could no longer quite read him.

He laughed and said, "My lord, you must be joking. I will personally deliver the case files. If the prefect asks, I'll tell him you're ill. You won't mind right?"

Le Wuya lowered the book slightly, revealing a pair of smiling eyes over the top of the page: "Suit yourself. I would't mind even if you tell him I'm dead."

Magistrate Sun: "..."

He had never seen Wenren Yue take this kind of attitude before.

Not knowing how to respond, Magistrate Sun could only force a smile.

He did not know if it was his imagination, but Wenren Yue's dark pupils seemed to carry a faint tinge of purple. At first glance, it was as though he were possessed by a fox spirit.

Magistrate Sun straightened up and put those unsettling thoughts out of his mind.

He had never looked at this master carefully before, but now the man had suddenly changed. Was it due to someone's influence, or something else...

Burdened with all manner of doubts, Magistrate Sun leaned forward to pick up the case file.

He had only glanced through it for a moment when he froze.

Had the upright Mr. Wenren written nonsense based on his own interpretation and done his utmost to prove the scholar's innocence, Magistrate Sun would not have been so surprised.

The entire case file had been transcribed anew, in small, neat characters — clear and refined, as always.

The main substance of the record was still Scholar Ming's rebellion, with Scholar Ming's signature at the bottom.

But the ink still looked fresh...

Le Wuya suddenly spoke: "The previous case files were deeply problematic."

Magistrate Sun had been absorbed in reviewing the documents. His thoughts lurched, and he nearly lost track of the case.

Since his superior was speaking, he could not simply keep staring at the file, so he set it aside, raised his head, and listened attentively: "Please, I am all ears."

Le Wuya remarked: "It is too clean."

Too clean?

Magistrate Sun quickly grasped his meaning and replied: "Scholar Ming refuses to disclose anything and won't explain himself, so..."

Le Wuya put down the book and picked up the teacup beside him: "The Lord Magistrate is inexperienced, having never handled a rebellion case before."

Magistrate Sun could not help thinking to himself: you say that as though you have handled plenty.

Le Wuya took a sip of tea: "Anyone who has dealt with a rebellion case knows that most rebellions are complicated affairs. You pull one radish and drag up a clump of mud with it — these cases invariably draw in more people. For a rebellion case like this, only Scholar Ming and his mother appear in the file. How can that possibly stand?"

Magistrate Sun frowned.

He had also assumed that this scholar, facing an unjust accusation and full of resentment, would inevitably drag a few other unfortunate souls down with him to share his fate.

But it had not occurred to him that Scholar Ming was so withdrawn and self-contained.

He had few friends and kept to himself. Though he had not gotten along well with those around him, and none of his classmates or acquaintances had any wish to see him — when death loomed before him, he held no grudge and refused to implicate anyone.

What Chen Yuanwai had intended was for things to remain contained — the fewer people involved, the less chance something would go wrong.

Magistrate Sun measured his words and spoke at his leisure: "They say it takes a scholar three years to stage a rebellion. He may simply have been harboring rebellious thoughts in his mind without yet having had the time to form any faction. My lord, some scholars are like this — steeped in their books and given to rash talk about state affairs. Very headstrong."

"If he had no allies, then where did the books come from?"

"Does the Lord Magistrate know how I came by this book?" Le Wuya shook the pamphlet and answered his own question: "I bought it from a street stall for three coppers."

"A flimsy little pamphlet like this costs as much as a bundle of firewood. Everything in this world has an origin. Where did Scholar Ming get his forbidden book? Since it was not written in his own hand, it cannot have been bought from any street stall the way mine was, can it?"

"Every rebellion case must be reviewed by the imperial court. Today's emperor places great importance on the examinations and on talent. If he hears that a scholar has been charged with a crime, he will ask for details. If critical questions — such as 'Where did the seditious material come from?' — remain unanswered, the case will be sent back for retrial."

Magistrate Sun turned this over in his mind.

It was indeed a difficult point.

However, he was not the head of the county, so it was not his problem to solve.

He shrugged: "Sir, as I said just now, it is Scholar Ming who is feigning ignorance and refusing to speak."

"I told you," Le Wuya put down the teacup. "I asked him last night, and he spoke. It's written right here in the file."

Only then did Magistrate Sun bother to look more carefully at the case file.

Upon closer inspection, he was so alarmed he shot to his feet.

Le Wuya looked up with an expression of surprise: "Lord Magistrate, what is the matter?"

Magistrate Sun struggled to keep his voice from trembling: "He claims the seditious letter was obtained from Instructor Luo?"

Le Wuya nodded: "Yes."

Instructor Luo's given name was Luo Yanqing. He had served as a teacher in the county for over thirty years, laboring faithfully all his life. He had no wife or children. He loved his students as dearly as sons. After his death, he left behind little in the way of worldly wealth — only his lifetime collection of books, which he donated to the academy. He was a man honored with a place in the county annals.

In short, he was the moral conscience and proud legacy of this small Nanting County — an unquestionable good man.

"That is absurd!" Magistrate Sun could not conceal his outrage. "Instructor Luo's students are spread all across the land, and he has been dead for years. How could a seditious letter be traced back to him? To make such a baseless accusation so brazenly — it is truly outrageous!"

He was worked up — but Le Wuya was not: "Lord Magistrate Sun, take a closer look. Before Instructor Luo died, he declared he had no children, only a thousand volumes of books. He regarded those books as his own children and entrusted them to Nanting Academy for any ambitious young man to read freely. He truly was a good man."

As he spoke, Le Wuya picked up the teacup again, shook his head, and sighed: "What a pity. A lifetime of doing good — and in the end, his reputation cannot be kept intact."

Magistrate Sun's expression turned deeply unpleasant.

Many of the students Instructor Luo had taught had passed the imperial examinations, with the highest among them reaching the third rank.

Even Sun Rusun himself had been one of Instructor Luo's students, and it was through his guidance that he had become what he was today.

Where did this Ming fellow get the audacity to frame his own teacher?!

Magistrate Sun was too furious to maintain his composure: "Ming knows he is about to die, so he bites at random and drags others down with him. Surely sir does not actually believe this?!"

Le Wuya said: "Then what do you suggest?"

"Hit him with severe punishment until he understands the consequences of making false accusations!"

"Yes," Le Wuya nodded calmly, "except that his battered body could be bound up one moment and be dead the next before the torture even begins. This confession is his last statement — once given, it cannot be undone."

Seeing that Magistrate Sun was struck speechless, Le Wuya adopted an air of curiosity and pressed further: "Besides, what exactly is 'random' about this accusation? Only one name was implicated, and this person had no wife or children — the connection is not very far-reaching."

Magistrate Sun blurted out: "Nearly all the scholars of Nanting were taught by Instructor Luo. If this accusation is given any credit, Instructor Luo's reputation will be ruined for nothing — and how will the scholars of Nanting hold their heads up? It will be devastating——"

The moment the words left his mouth, Magistrate Sun realized something was wrong.

He looked up sharply at Le Wuya.

At some point, Le Wuya had already turned to face him with a half-smile.

"Among the scholars of Nanting, there is surely Lord Magistrate Sun himself," Le Wuya said leisurely, pressing a hand to his chest. "You are my right-hand man. If you were truly feel that I had wronged you, I would be quite grieved."

Le Wuya understood perfectly — it was not the scholars of Nanting who would be devastated.

What was truly at stake was their futures.

This revered teacher, whose name had been written into the county annals, had no doubt added considerable luster to their careers.

But if this teacher were implicated in rebellion, those careers would inevitably be cast into shadow.

They would not be dismissed from office immediately, but in the world of officialdom, enemies were easily made.

If, at a critical moment in their advancement, someone with ill intentions brought this matter back to light, their chances of promotion could be finished for life.

And what was the current emperor's temperament?

Le Wuya knew it better than anyone.

That man was meticulous beyond measure.

He could use this affair to bring down a faction, demote another, and elevate a third — all with ease, just as he had once done when Le Wuya served as his "footstool."

Magistrate Sun had not yet thought as far as the emperor's temperament.

Simply thinking through who might be implicated in this case was already enough to make him break out in a cold sweat.

Yet he had never imagined that such a ruthless scheme could have come from this gentle, bookish Mr. Wenren.

In truth, when Le Wuya had sat down with his brush the previous night and set about fabricating such a confession from nothing, he had asked himself:

Instructor Luo was a good man.

Was it right to risk the posthumous reputation of such a good man — to speak ill of someone who could no longer speak for himself?

His answer had come with surprising swiftness:

If Instructor Luo truly was a good man, then this was the right thing to do.

He had been dead for many years — why not put his name to use in order to save a life that still had a chance of surviving?

Naturally, Magistrate Sun had no intention of sitting back and accepting defeat.

He said with a grave expression: "The books donated by Instructor Luo were copied and catalogued by the current instructor himself. Every book is on record and can be verified one by one. If a few volumes containing seditious content were suddenly to appear with no traceable origin, how would anyone account for that?"

Le Wuya answered without missing a beat: "Have you forgotten? The year before last, Nanting Academy was broken into. Many books were lost, and the ledger itself was lost as well. The dean came to the yamen to report the theft, and the former county magistrate ordered Nanting Academy to re-copy and reorganize their records. All of this is clearly documented in the archives. And here is the coincidence — do you know which students Nanting Academy called upon to help when they were re-creating those records?"

This scholar had been plagued by misfortune for years, but in this one matter, fortune had finally smiled on him.

After his father's death, the Ming family had fallen on hard times, but whenever there was work to be done at Nanting Academy — whether decorating for festivals or copying books — the Scholar Ming would always help out for whatever meager wages it offered.

In this way, he would have had access to those books.

Magistrate Sun felt a chill run through him: "...You knew all this?"

"I also know that among the books donated by Instructor Luo, there are clearly volumes of a seditious nature, yet the current instrctor never entered them in the register — whether through deliberate concealment, failure to report, or simple negligence. He too will be held accountable. And I'm afraid the other students in Nanting County who were not taught by Instructor Luo will not escape scrutiny either."

Le Wuya rolled up the book, held it loosely against his head, and watched with interest as Magistrate Sun wiped sweat from his brow: "Lord Magistrate, do you see? This is what a proper rebellion case looks like. Tug at one thread and the whole body moves — no one escapes. If this great case were brought to a conclusion, there would be rewards from His Majesty. Why not carefully think through those who you have grievances with and write down all the names sitting in your heart in your memorial?"

The matter had grown so grave that Magistrate Sun dared not offer any further objections: "Sir, please, you must stop joking!"

"Why would I joke with you?" Le Wuya stood up, walked behind him, and asked in an unhurried tone: "Do you know who currently serves as the Inspector of this province?"

Magistrate Sun was caught off guard by the mention of the Inspector, who was in charge of the province's criminal justice system, but he did not dare lie. He suppressed his unease and replied: "The current Inspector is Ji Shiming -- a Jinshi from the Yiyou examination year — a man renowned for his meticulousness."

Le Wuya let out a quiet sound of acknowledgment in his heart.

Meticulousness.

His former classmate had risen through the ranks quite quickly.

In the past, Le Wuya had written assessments of all the officials at court. When he submitted his report, he had included a note recommending that Ji Ying — styled Ji Shiming — be appointed to the position of Inspector rather than a regular administrative post.

The emperor had asked with great interest: how could he make such a recommendation?

Le Wuya still remembered his answer: "Your Majesty, Ji Shiming is a man of circuitous thought but meticulous mind — yet he focuses on fine details at the expense of the larger picture. If someone were to fabricate a case file complete with evidence, testimony, and witnesses, he would be very likely to follow each step dutifully and investigate only what the documents presented him with." He had continued: "Such a conscientious man, if placed in an administrative post, could easily become a blade in another's hand or a whip for another to wield."

The emperor had asked: "Then how can such a man be fit for the position of the Inspector?"

Le Wuya had replied: "In response to Your Majesty: first, most county-level officials are incompetent, and it is no easy matter to fabricate a truly airtight case file. His meticulous thinking is well suited to that kind of scrutiny. Second, although the world is full of unjust, false, and erroneous cases, most of them are plainly obvious to any trained eye. Yet those below are afraid to judge, unable to judge, or unsure how to judge. In these circumstances, a man of his temperament holds a distinct advantage."

The emperor had been silent for a long moment, then nodded: "You dare to speak so plainly."

It could be said that while the emperor had resolved to deal with Le Wuya, he also genuinely trusted Le Wuya's ability to read people.

Le Wuya had arranged for Ji Ying to be transferred to the Surveillance Commission partly as a favor to himself.

After all, though men capable of fabricating an airtight case file were rare in this world, he — Le Wuya — could, with some effort, count himself among them.

"Master Ji is loves bamboo, and is as upright and exacting as bamboo. If I had submitted the previous case file, Ji Shiming may not have even approved it himself, let along allow it pass to the imperial court. Alas, I had no choice but to take greater pains and lay out the full picture in detail — for your sake."

Le Wuya drew a folding fan from his sleeve, bent slightly at the waist, and fanned Magistrate Sun who was drenched in sweat. His manner and tone were perfectly cordial, but the content of his words was enough to stop the heart.

"Lord Magistrate Sun, there is no need to worry so much. The trouble here is that whoever framed Ming Xiangzhao did a poor job of it.

No proper rebellion case can stand without accomplices. If you wish to be done with him in one stroke, you would be better off planting a charge of murder on him instead. Set up a roadside tea stall, hire a desperate man to pick a quarrel with him on some pretext — Scholar Ming has that temper of his... it would just be a matter of spending a bit more money."

Magistrate Sun was left thoroughly disoriented by his words.

He suddenly could no longer see this man clearly.

...Not clearly at all.