Chapter 71#

With Lou Changsui’s sudden kneeling, the expressions on the Wen family members’ faces shifted more dramatically than an overturned dye vat.

Wen Zhuo had left the Wen family at thirteen and never returned, so even though they were now face-to-face, they couldn’t recognize him.

But Lou Changsui had worked alongside Wen Zhuo, and he would never mistake that face for someone else.

Only one thought spun madly through Wen Ze’s mind—

How is this possible!

The swindler surnamed Liu who had beaten Wen Xu at Qixian Inn and the suspect being hunted by every constable in the city were actually Wen Zhuo!

When had he infiltrated Mianzhou? How much had he secretly investigated during this time? How much did he already know about the secret of Tougu Xiang?

If Wen Zhuo had been hiding in Mianzhou all along, rather than far away in Xingjing, then all the speculations he and Lou Changsui had made earlier were utterly wrong!

Lou Changsui’s corpulent body had been trembling since he first caught sight of Wen Zhuo. The ominous premonition now fully manifested. As in Bozhou, Wen Zhuo had once again unleashed a string of unexpected strategies. He must have planned the prison escape and taken the opportunity to kidnap Liu Kangren as well—it had to be Wen Zhuo!

His mind went blank. A chill suddenly shot up the back of his neck, as if a guillotine blade were already poised above it, ready to fall at any moment.

Panicked, he lifted his eyes toward Wen Yingjing, who had risen to his feet, hoping to catch a glimmer of reassurance in Wen Yingjing’s composed gaze.

The Great Qian dynasty governed the realm with filial piety. Wen Zhuo’s birth mother was still in the Wen household. Blood was thicker than water—surely there would be at least a shred of consideration?

But instead, he saw Wen Yingjing’s cheeks twitching uncontrollably.

Wen Yingjing strained to maintain his dignity, trying to preserve the decorum expected of a local squire and clan elder. Yet his instinctive reaction to Wen Zhuo betrayed the fear lurking within.

Lou Changsui could easily imagine, even without thinking much, that given Wen Ze’s contemptuous and dismissive demeanor, Wen Zhuo had likely endured no kindness during his time in the Wen family.

These shrewd individuals still knew enough to show caution and reverence. Only Wen Xu stubbornly refused to admit defeat.

Pain made stars burst before his eyes. Dragging his broken arm, he howled, “How could he be Wen Zhuo? He told me himself he was from the Liu family! Imperial Censor Lou, you must be mistaken. How could that brat Wen Zhuo have grown into this? He looks just like—like—”

The filthy insults were already at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to hurl the worst kind of slander, likening Wen Zhuo to a prostitute, but in the end, he didn’t dare say it aloud.

He hoped the onlookers around him would catch his meaning. Even without saying it outright, it would be as good as said.

Yet the gathered merchants simply stretched their necks like geese, staring wide-eyed at Wen Zhuo, not daring to make a sound.

Wen Xu, refusing to show weakness, glared at Wen Zhuo with red-rimmed eyes, still believing this was one of those occasions where a bit of petty cunning could get him out of trouble through sheer bluster.

Wen Zhuo withdrew his gaze from the kneeling Lou Changsui. When his eyes fell on Wen Xu, his expression turned instantly ice-cold. His official authority descended like a blizzard, layer upon layer: “Who do you think you are, daring to act presumptuously before this imperial commissioner? Guards, put him in the cangue!”

According to Great Qian law, any commoner who showed disrespect to a third-rank or higher capital official, or to a duke or marquis of noble rank, would be sentenced to one month in the cangue and face additional punishment. It was the harshest penalty for speech-based crimes.

“Wha—what?” Wen Xu’s voice cracked in shock. He couldn’t believe Wen Zhuo would actually dare to treat him this way.

The Wen family’s enforcers were all seasoned at reading the room. Seeing even Lou Changsui kneeling, they hastily hid their short clubs behind their backs and quietly retreated as far as they could, terrified of being caught in the crossfire.

The two constables who had followed Wen Xu down the stairs exchanged uneasy glances, hesitating on whether to step forward.

Wen Zhuo’s brows furrowed slightly. He barked, “Lou Changsui, did you not hear this imperial commissioner’s command?”

Lou Changsui, suddenly called out by name, felt his scalp tighten and his soul nearly flee. He scrambled to his feet, rushed down from the stage, and shouted in a cracked voice, “What are you still standing there for? Bring the cangue!”

But as he approached the constables, he lowered his voice and hissed through clenched teeth, “Quickly search the central area! You must find Liu Kangren!”

“Understood!” The two constables received the order and turned to act.

“Wait.” Wen Zhuo’s voice rang out unexpectedly. It wasn’t loud, but it made people tremble.

The two constables froze in place, nervously waiting with their hands at their sides.

Wen Zhuo shifted his gaze, aiming his attack at Lou Changsui.

He pulled his folding fan from Shen Zheng’s hand and slowly opened it inch by inch, an unreadable expression on his face. “It seems these constables only see you, Censor Lou, and not this imperial commissioner. I suppose I am not as imposing as you.”

To act behind his back right under his nose—this was truly a sign of desperation.

Lou Changsui gaped, then shook his head frantically like a rattle-drum. “No! Not at all!”

Wen Zhuo gave a faint, almost imperceptible smile and raised his fan to point.

Liu Qiying understood immediately. She produced a scroll from her bosom and unfurled it, revealing the imperial gold-dragon paper with the words “By Imperial Decree” emblazoned across it. Lou Changsui’s knees, which had just stiffened, gave way with a thud as they softened again.

“This imperial commissioner holds the emperor’s mandate to patrol Mianzhou, yet I cannot even command a couple of simple constables. It seems your authority, Censor Lou, casts too great a shadow.” Wen Zhuo’s tone was flat. “In that case, from today onward, you shall remain idle at home. I will take over all matters in Mianzhou on behalf of His Majesty. From now on, if anyone dares to obey only you and not this commissioner’s orders, they will be charged with contempt for the imperial command!”

“Wen—!” The power slipped from his grasp in an instant. The panic of helplessness seized Lou Changsui’s heart.

“Go.” Wen Zhuo waved his hand dismissively at the two constables.

Trembling with fear, they hurriedly kowtowed and withdrew. They no longer dared to concern themselves with Liu Kangren. They turned and sprinted toward the yamen to fetch the cangue.

From the side, Shen Zheng watched and thought to himself that Wen Zhuo at this moment perfectly embodied the intimidating authority of a powerful minister as described in the Great Qian history.

But recalling how Wen Zhuo had just tightly gripped his own sleeve, he couldn’t help but silently revise that assessment.

Just a slightly more formidable little cat.

On this side, Wen Zhuo’s expression shifted to a more affable one. He leaned down to Lou Changsui, who was sprawled on the ground, and said, “Rise, Censor Lou. In the past, Emperor Taizong decreed ritual codes and abolished barbarian customs. According to protocol, you do not report directly to me, so there is no need to kneel. A bow and obeisance will suffice. Why be so overly ceremonious and burden this commissioner?”

Lou Changsui did not dare refuse. He had to struggle to his feet on numb knees, sweating profusely. “This humble official… was momentarily overcome with emotion.”

But unexpectedly, Wen Zhuo’s tone turned sharp and fierce: “You may not have to kneel before me, but when you see the current dynastic prince, why do you not perform the three bows and nine prostrations?”

Shen Zheng, realizing it was his turn, put on a stern and unsmiling face. “Censor Lou seems not to have noticed this prince’s presence.”

Lou Changsui’s body tilted, and his knees crashed heavily to the ground again with a thud. Only then did he fully realize the identity of the person before him. Terrified out of his wits, he cried, “This humble official was blind and failed to recognize the Fifth Prince’s arrival. A thousand deaths would not be enough! A thousand deaths would not be enough!”

He completely forgot that he was not supposed to know which prince had come. Kneeling before Shen Zheng, he thumped his head on the ground three times in succession, his shiny forehead immediately ringed with a purplish bruise.

Shen Zheng frowned slightly, somewhat disgusted. He really didn’t want such a man kneeling before him.

But he endured it for now. Lifting his gaze, he swept it across Wen Yingjing and Wen Ze, who were frozen stiff on the stage, and the group of wealthy spice merchants sitting uneasily.

He smirked. “Why mention only him? What about you?”

The merchants snapped out of their daze. With a collective rustle, they slid off their chairs and fell to their knees in a clatter. “We humble commoners pay respects to the Fifth Prince!”

The merchants who had been craning their necks to watch also came to their senses and followed suit, kneeling. In an instant, the inner courtyard of Suhe Fang was filled with a sea of kneeling figures. Only the commoners separated by the screens remained unaware.

Wen Yingjing’s grizzled beard and hair were blown across his face by the wind. Amid the interwoven black and white, his usually benevolent features took on a sinister, shadowy cast.

He had never imagined that one day he would be forced to kneel before that insignificant little bastard from years ago.

As a local magnate in Mianzhou, he had not bent his knee to anyone in decades.

Now, staring fixedly at Wen Zhuo, his whole body stiff, he finally gritted his teeth, lifted his robe, bent his knee, and reluctantly knelt in Wen Zhuo’s direction.

Wen Ze saw his father yield to the overwhelming authority of officialdom. A surge of fear rose within him. He knew full well that Wen Zhuo would never let the Wen family off, nor would he spare him!

Wen Ze’s reed-thin legs gave way beneath him. At this moment, he cared nothing for dignity. Reaching down, he felt his crotch—damp and hot.

Sixth Monkey was utterly dumbfounded from the sidelines.

He never imagined that the kind-hearted swindler he had been hiding with would turn out to be Wen Zhuo, the Head of the Hanlin Academy, and the Fifth Crown Prince of the dynasty!

No wonder they weren’t afraid of Lou Changsui or the all-powerful Wen family!

His mind buzzed as he frantically tried to recall what he had said in front of them—

“Brainless,” “Courting death”…

Fuck!

He had spouted such a load of insolent nonsense!

He pressed his hand to the wound on his abdomen, hurriedly rolled over, and prostrated himself, kowtowing haphazardly like the others.

But he heard Shen Zheng call out, “Sixth Monkey, come here.”

Sixth Monkey froze, then hesitantly got up and limped over to Shen Zheng. Stuttering, he said, “A… a prince?”

Shen Zheng smiled. “You went to great lengths to protect us. Is your injury all right? I’ll have someone look at you later.”

Sixth Monkey was used to injuries. His body was perpetually covered in bruises and welts. This small wound was nothing. He shook his head vigorously.

“Take a seat and rest for a while.” Shen Zheng gestured to a chair nearby.

Liu Qiying put away the imperial decree and helped him into her own seat.

Sixth Monkey was short. Sitting on the large chair, his feet dangled without touching the ground.

He sat there in a daze, not daring to move, thinking to himself, They don’t blame me for my wild talk? How can high-ranking officials and princes from the capital be this kind?

Wen Zhuo rose, shaking open his folding fan as he strode leisurely onto the stage, heading straight for Wen Yingjing.

He deliberately stood before Wen Yingjing, looking down from on high at the weathered old face, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.

According to Great Qian protocol, as a scholar and Wen Zhuo’s stepfather in name, Wen Yingjing was not required to kneel to Wen Zhuo. But now he was kneeling before the Fifth Prince, and unless Shen Zheng said otherwise, he didn’t even have the right to raise his head.

Wen Zhuo said nothing. There was no need to say anything. He simply felt that time was good, turning the tables to let him personally exact this old vengeance.

Wen Yingjing hung his head low, palms slightly open, back bent—a posture of utter humiliation. All he could see before him was the hem of Wen Zhuo’s robe.

A drop of hot sweat slid down his forehead and into his eye, stinging painfully.

Hearing Wen Zhuo’s mocking laugh, raised veins writhed like earthworms across his hands.

After savoring the moment, Wen Zhuo turned back. His robes rustled as his gaze swept over the servants and constables who were also kowtowing. “What are you still doing with these screens? This is a fragrance fair, a citywide celebration. How can you shut out the common people and treat them differently?”

At his command, the layers of screens were removed. The common folk, who had been craning and tiptoeing, were stunned speechless by the scene before them.

All those lords who usually stood so high and mighty—how had they knelt in a mess?

Wen Zhuo reached for the wooden mallet beside him and slammed it against the brass gong. The sound vibrated through the air, making everyone’s eardrums ring.

“The current Emperor reigns high above, and has specially charged this commissioner and the Fifth Prince with thoroughly investigating the locust plague crisis in Mianzhou to rescue the people from disaster.” His voice was solemn and clear, carrying clearly to the commoners. “No sooner had this commissioner arrived in Mianzhou than he learned that this region had suffered the disaster for over half a year. People starved in the fields, and some had even sold their children for food just to survive. Hearing such atrocities, my heart feels as though it were being torn apart!”

“Elders of Mianzhou, you may have heard my name before.” Wen Zhuo’s gaze swept over the kneeling Wen Yingjing and his son, and he smiled coldly. “I am a son of the Wen family, named Wen Zhuo. Upon first hearing that my father, Wen Yingjing, enjoys a reputation for charity, I was deeply moved. Since the Wen family is built on virtue, why not carry this virtue to its very end? From this day forward, all of the Wen family’s assets shall be donated in full to relieve the famine, purchase grain, and distribute porridge, to ease the immediate crisis!”

Upon hearing this, Wen Yingjing abruptly raised his head. His wrinkled face was filled with shock as he stared at Wen Zhuo, as if he wanted to devour him alive.

How venomous the bastard’s mind was!

On the ground of Mianzhou, who didn’t know Wen Yingjing as a living bodhisattva of charity?

The black pot of grain embezzlement had been quietly pinned on Liu Kangren without the slightest stir. The common people believed it without question and were all the more grateful to the Wen family.

Wen Zhuo, newly arrived, had no roots or support. If he had directly accused the Wen family and confronted them openly, the people would have thought he had ulterior motives.

But he refused to play by the rules. Instead of arguing or disputing, he went along with the Wen family’s reputation and even forced them to “carry virtue to its very end.”

If the Wen family agreed, decades of accumulated wealth would be scattered in a day. If they refused, they would slap themselves in public, and even be cursed by the people.

Wen Ze was even more livid, his eyeballs nearly bursting from their sockets. His teeth ground together with a grating sound, but he still didn’t dare rise to resist. He only managed to spit out disjointed shouts between clenched teeth: “You, you—you—!”

“This commissioner has learned that at today’s fragrance fair, many refugees have risked their lives to obtain ambergris, hoping only to exchange it for money to redeem their children.” Wen Zhuo paid no attention to the commotion behind him and continued. “You need not return a single penny to the Wen family. The children held captive by Dong Yazi will be returned to you soon. I also implore you to spread the word to all the wandering refugees: stop risking your lives and return home quickly. I, Wen Zhuo, swear here that if porridge kitchens to relieve the famine are not set up throughout Mianzhou within seven days, for every day I am late, the Wen family will send one person to die in atonement to the people of Mianzhou!”

Wen Yingjing stood frozen. Wen Ze shook all over. Even Wen Xu, who had been writhing in agony, forgot his pain, staring openmouthed at Wen Zhuo on the stage.

The refugees understood nothing of the hidden intricacies. They only heard “donation,” “famine relief,” and “atonement.” All they knew was that this Lord Wen had the people in his heart and was incredibly sincere.

“Thank you, Your Honor, for saving our lives!”

“The court hasn’t forgotten us! We’re finally saved—no more hunger!”

“Lord Wen is a living bodhisattva! A living bodhisattva! My child, your mother can finally see you!”

…

Wen Zhuo wanted to call the refugees to their feet, but the stage was already drowned in wails and sobs, far louder than his voice.

Now they could only pour out all their gratitude and despair as tears, kowtowing continuously on the ground.

Wen Zhuo stood on the stage and scanned these gaunt, skeletal figures one by one.

He had seen such scenes before, in Bozhou.

The same displacement, the same misery across the land, the same weeping at the faintest glimmer of hope in an abyss of despair.

In a trance, it seemed that year after year, across the vast landscape, nothing had ever truly changed.

He was always waiting—waiting for the one who could overturn the chronic decay and change the world.