Chapter 29#
Governing an Era (Part 2)#
With this thought in mind, Wenren Yue soon became busy.
Not only did he have to pick up the studies he had abandoned for over a year and relearn them, but he also had to practice every day a set of health-preserving fist techniques and tai chi sword techniques that Le Wuyia had taught him.
Le Wuyia didn’t expect him to achieve anything remarkable by starting mid-life; what mattered most was building a solid physical foundation.
Scholar Ming was a good man, but he had too strong a temper.
As long as you live long enough, what enemy can’t you outlast?
After arranging Wenren Yue, Le Wuyia began to plan his own affairs.
Ever since he had ridden the lazy little yellow horse to the prefect’s office for a meeting, Le Wuyia had taken a liking to it.
From its size to its personality, the pony looked nothing like a horse, pretending to be a shabby little donkey, dragging its feet and swaying unsteadily—perfect for Le Wuyia to ride as he slowly wandered around Nanting County.
Such a small county town—one could walk half a day to cover all the main streets and alleys; there really wasn’t much to see.
Sun Ru had lain low for a while, watching Le Wuyia’s every move coldly from the sidelines, and the small abacus that had been silent for so long in his heart began to click again.
The backer, Squire Chen, had collapsed in a roar, but County Magistrate Sun himself was a big tree in Nanting County, deeply rooted. Even if he was hurt, he wouldn’t die anytime soon.
Young General Pei was indeed accomplished at a young age, but his garrison was in Qingyuan, not Nanting. Once his business was settled, he would have to return sooner or later.
After he left, would the master of Nanting County really be Wenren Yue?
Just like Squire Chen, even knowing that the Xiaofu Coal Mine had an accident, he still held onto the delusion and tried his best to save it.
By the same token, although Nanting was a small county, power was still hard-won.
Sun Ru couldn’t bear to let go without any reluctance.
However, the magistrate’s hiding of his abilities to such an extent had truly scared Sun Ru.
He had learned to be a bit smarter and didn’t plan to resort to dirty tricks. He only hoped that the magistrate had lofty ambitions and would look down on this small Nanting County.
This small place was indeed boring—even the plays in the theater and the stories told by the storyteller were just the same few over and over again.
Since the magistrate had caught the imperial envoy’s eye, and if he could handle a few important cases, he might soon have a chance for promotion.
While Sun Ru was making several trips to the City God Temple, sincerely burning incense and praying for his magistrate’s continuous promotion, Le Wuyia was studying Nanting County inside and out.
He didn’t find Nanting boring.
After strolling around for the past few days, he had even worn down the horseshoe by half an inch.
On this day, Le Wuyia was watering his horse by the Mang River. When idle, he took out the second letters from Xiang Zhijie and Xiang Zhishi.
Xiang Zhishi wrote: “I saw that your clothes were thin and shabby that day, so I’m sending you a tailor. He’s on his way, arriving when spring comes.”
Le Wuyia wasn’t bothered by his eccentricity.
Xiang Zhishi’s way of showing kindness was to shower people with money.
His mother’s status in the palace wasn’t high, but his family was extremely wealthy—almost richer than the state—so Xiang Zhishi grew up like a reincarnation of the Child of Wealth, using the best and most expensive items within his permitted range.
Xiang Zhijie sent a small box.
When opened, it contained a book of qin music and a sprig of peach blossom.
This time, he didn’t give Le Wuyia any difficult problems. His letter was also concise: “Spring has already begun here. I send you a sprig of spring. Also, I recently obtained a new music score, but I suspect a few places are erroneous. Please advise.”
This letter was much easier to reply to.
Le Wuyia remembered that he had once advised Xiang Zhijie that practicing the flute would greatly benefit his stutter.
The flute was rarely used in the court’s elegant music but was often used in folk tunes, so it was often regarded as a vulgar instrument unfit for refined settings.
He didn’t expect that even after so many years, Xiang Zhijie still practiced diligently and never forgot—truly a man of deep feelings.
Le Wuyia opened the flute score; it was indeed a collection of folk music, gathering kunqu flute and bangdi tunes from various regions.
But because this was a privately published book, with insufficient proofreading, errors and omissions were inevitable.
In his previous life, Le Wuyia had worked hard to study music and rhythm in order to blend in with the literati.
But it was in his nature—he was extraordinarily vulgar, unmoved by elegant music, and only loved to listen to lively, joyful folk music.
He studied it with great interest. Besides the few errors Xiang Zhijie had marked, Le Wuyia found several other problems.
Just as he was focusing on the score, a light cough came from behind him.
…He was all too familiar with that sound.
When they were young and got caught doing mischief together, the other would always cough like that.
Le Wuyia turned around and met Pei Mingqi’s gaze.
Pei Mingqi was wearing light armor, riding a chestnut-red steed, followed by Deputy General An Shuguo and a group of personal guards.
Seeing this formation, Le Wuyia knew he was leaving.
Le Wuyia put away the flute score, grabbed the reins, and stood up, greeting, “General Pei, safe travels.”
Pei Mingqi had been practicing his smile for a long time ever since he spotted Le Wuyia from fifty paces away, but the first thing he heard was a wish for his departure.
All his efforts were immediately wasted. He pulled a long face and said, “So eager for me to leave?”
Le Wuyia blinked.
They had met three times, and each time Pei Mingqi had used force.
He thought it was perfectly reasonable to want him gone.
Seeing the county magistrate looking at him with total ignorance, Pei Mingqi felt a pang in his heart and warned, “If you get yourself hurt, I won’t let you off.”
Le Wuyia mulled over those words and found them somewhat absurd—like using a man’s own spear to attack his shield—so he deliberately looked demure and gave a faint smile.
Deputy General An, seeing that his young general’s words were getting more and more out of line, quickly stepped in to mediate. He tried to sound as official as possible: “Magistrate Wenren, this time we’ve helped you out. When the grain levy comes this year, please don’t delay.”
Le Wuyia nodded restrainedly: “Easy to say.”
Pei Mingqi stood nearby with a stern face.
…Although this person spoke annoyingly, he still wanted to have a few more words with County Magistrate Wenren.
He looked Le Wuyia over from head to toe, then fixed his gaze on Le Wuyia’s mount and blurted out, “Why are you riding a donkey?”
The little yellow horse seemed to know Pei Mingqi was talking about it. It lifted its head in confusion and stuck out half its tongue, looking adorably pitiful.
Le Wuyia had grown somewhat fond of the little yellow horse over the past couple of days. The person before him was someone from his past, and the scenes overlapped, making it hard for him to distinguish.
So, without thinking, he defended the little yellow horse: “You’re the donkey.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Le Wuyia immediately regretted it.
Deputy General An drew in a sharp breath and quickly looked at Pei Mingqi.
He needed to keep a close watch—whether Pei Mingqi reached for the whip on his boot or the sword at his waist—so he could stop him if it came to a fight.
But surprisingly, Pei Mingqi didn’t get angry after being insulted. After a moment of stunned silence, a smile actually appeared on his face.
He thought, if the crow really was in this little county magistrate, occasionally popping out so lively like this—even if he had forgotten the past—he would be happy to see it.
…Even being scolded made him happy.
In high spirits, Pei Mingqi dismounted and handed his reins forward: “Take this.”
Le Wuyia knew horses. At a glance, he could tell that this horse had bloodline from a Ferghana horse, worth no less than a hundred gold coins.
Such a fine horse, and he offered it as casually as if handing over a basket of steamed buns at a breakfast stall when they were kids.
Le Wuyia lowered his eyes: “Thank you for your kindness, General Pei. This horse is spirited; I won’t be able to ride it.”
Once Pei Mingqi gave something away, he never took it back: “Then keep it for me. If it gets ruined, I’ll hold you accountable.”
Le Wuyia was about to refuse when he suddenly heard two muffled barks.
He turned sideways and saw, at the back of the procession, Erya staring intently at him, straining with all its might to rush forward.
The soldier holding the dog had been punished earlier for not holding it tightly enough, and now he was on high alert, refusing to let go, wrestling with the large dog with both hands and feet.
A sudden inspiration struck Le Wuyia: “General Pei, is this big dog yours?”
Pei Mingqi also noticed the barking. He was suddenly delighted and tried to find a trace of an old acquaintance in Le Wuyia’s eyes: “Do you like it?”
Le Wuyia: “Mm.”
Pei Mingqi raised his hand: “Bring it here.”
The soldier, receiving the order, was finally released from the torment of repeated tug-of-war.
Erya bounded happily to Le Wuyia’s side, circled him once, sniffed his scent, then calmly sat down beside him.
Seeing that his gift was well received, Pei Mingqi’s smile deepened.
When he was fierce and irritable, no one dared approach him, but when he smiled, he showed two unusually perfect tiger teeth, adding a hint of childish simplicity.
As a child, Pei Mingqi had been teased by Le Wuyia constantly, so he rarely smiled in front of unfamiliar people.
After grinning foolishly at Le Wuyia for a while, he finally composed himself: “I’m off. See you later.”
…Off.
Hearing those two words, it was Le Wuyia’s turn to want to smile.
When he first entered Wenren Yue’s body, he didn’t think about the past because he was always ready to leave at any time.
Now that he couldn’t leave, standing in this life, he couldn’t help but look back.
According to the rules of this dynasty, civil and military affairs were separated. Civil officials had to pass the imperial examinations, but military positions could be hereditary.
Pei Mingqi wasn’t an only child; he had a younger brother and a younger sister. But Pei’s main wife was frail, and the other two children were born to concubines.
The Pei family had only one little phoenix like him, so naturally, the succession fell to him.
Back then, which fool, upon hearing that Pei Mingqi was leaving to train in the army, promptly packed his bags, left a letter, and ran away from home just to follow him?
Le Wuyia, alone with some dry rations, riding his second brother’s horse, chased after him for five hundred li and finally caught up.
He got ahead of him and, wanting to surprise him, crouched in advance under a tree on the path Pei Mingqi would take. But the sun was warm on his body, and he hadn’t slept for two days, so he fell asleep as soon as he touched the ground.
It wasn’t until someone lifted his bamboo hat and sunlight fell on his eyelids that Le Wuyia slowly woke up.
What came into view was Pei Mingqi’s surprised and delighted face: “It really is you! I thought I saw you from far away!”
Still groggy, Le Wuyia reached out a hand toward him.
Pei Mingqi didn’t understand. Happily, he high-fived him, the impact stinging Le Wuyia’s palm.
Le Wuyia woke up fully: “What did you hit me for? Pull me up!”
Pei Mingqi: “…Oh.”
Le Wuyia saw that he was dressed smartly and neatly. Pei Mingqi saw that Le Wuyia was travel-worn, with no fancy adornments, just a dirty blue headband—which only made his eyes shine brighter like stars.
They both stared at each other for a moment before snapping out of it.
Pei Mingqi finally remembered to ask: “What are you doing here?”
“I’m going to find my father.” Le Wuyia laughed. “I’ll keep you company.”
“Sure!”
After blurting it out, Pei Mingqi realized: “Does General Le know?”
Le Wuyia: “The letter is already on its way. Should arrive about the same time we do.”
Pei Mingqi frowned, genuinely worried: “Won’t General Le beat you?”
Le Wuyia complained: “Then what good are you? Can’t you stop him? Just watch me get beaten?”
Pei Mingqi heard his tone and felt joy in his heart. He grinned, showing the silly smile that Le Wuyia always teased him about.
Le Wuyia was also happy and pinched his cheek: “What are you smiling at? So stupid!”
Pei Mingqi blurted out: “You talk like a little wife!”
Le Wuyia: “…”
Pei Mingqi thought the more he thought about it, the more it fit: “See, you’ve even run away with me!”
Before he could finish, he nimbly dodged Le Wuyia’s kick, and they chased each other down the official road, laughing and joking.
An Shuguo, five years older than Pei Mingqi and not yet a deputy general at the time, frowned with worry.
He thought the future young general was acting far too undignified.
…
Back then, Le Wuyia insisted on going with him.
The Jing tribe was ambitious and had already taken two cities.
The little phoenix was going to the border, which meant he would be going to battle.
His life back then was simple and happy, with no one else involved—just his father, mother, eldest brother, second brother, and the little phoenix.
For Le Wuyia, missing any of them was unthinkable.
He thought, at that time, he shouldn’t have gone.
He really shouldn’t have gone.
At the thought, it was as if a phantom of someone was recklessly galloping through his memory, whistling past him.
That person drew a bow and aimed an arrow sideways at him, his eyes carrying wind and blood.
The arrow came with a hate that could pierce clouds and split stones, piercing straight through his chest.
He was pinned motionless by that arrow of memory, forced to watch Pei Mingqi fade into the distance.
Erya had originally wanted the two of them to be together, but they had separated again.
It paced anxiously in circles several times, wanting to follow Pei Mingqi but clearly reluctant to leave Le Wuyia. After hesitating for a while, it finally made its choice—it lay down at Le Wuyia’s feet and whimpered softly.
Le Wuyia patted its head: “You still remember me.”
It barked affectionately.
After a high-ranking official’s banquet in the capital had ended, he had picked up this dog.
At the time, it was skin and bones, scavenging in a garbage heap like a cat.
The capital was crowded with nobles; any stray animal that bit someone on the street might bite a fourth-rank official.
Thus, whenever the authorities caught stray dogs or cats, they would beat them to death on the spot.
Le Wuyia saw that it had lost its home and was pitiful, so he took it back and raised it like a cat.
Calling it “Meow-meow” this and “Meow-meow” that for several days, it wasn’t until Sister Qi couldn’t stand it anymore and reminded him that he realized it was actually a dog.
Le Wuyia was disheartened for two days, feeling that his eyesight had deteriorated to a certain degree.
Dog or cat, it didn’t matter. As long as it could stay by his side and not despise him, that was good enough.
The winter river was extremely gentle. Gazing at the rippling water helped calm the mind.
Le Wuyia stared at the river in a daze for a long time, so long that he didn’t notice when someone appeared beside him.
Wenren Yue looked at the slender black dog and had already figured things out: “Has General Pei left?”
Le Wuyia: “Mm, he’s gone.”
Wenren Yue: “He left the dog for you?”
Le Wuyia: “This dog is close to me.”
Wenren Yue stood separated from him by the dog, both of them gazing at the river.
Wenren Yue asked him: “What are you looking at?”
Le Wuyia blurted out: “I’m checking to see if there are any water monkeys.”
Wenren Yue couldn’t help but smile, then turned sideways and said seriously: “There’s no such thing.”
Le Wuyia looked back at him, his gaze a little dazed: “The way you talk is very much like someone I know.”
Wenren Yue understood in his heart that this “Brother Gu” was so melancholy today probably because he was thinking of his past life.
He completely understood that feeling. Occasionally, when he thought of his father back home, he also felt heartache and unease.
…He wondered if Brother Gu still had any family alive.
Wenren Yue tentatively asked: “Is there anyone you need to contact?”
Le Wuyia, always alert, raised an eyebrow at him and smiled: “Trying to test me?”
Wenren Yue was taken aback, then waved his hand to explain: “No, no, I mean… if you want to contact your family or a trustworthy friend, you don’t have to tell me. Just go find them on your own.”
Le Wuyia lazily fiddled with Erya’s long, folded ears.
The people he could see, he’d more or less seen.
The rest were almost all people he couldn’t see.
The things Le Wuyia couldn’t figure out in his previous life hadn’t become clear just because he had been reincarnated.
Helpless, he shifted his mind back to practical matters: “There’s a barren mountain outside Nanting County. I recently got to know an old county magistrate who is quite knowledgeable about land reclamation. Maybe I can ask him what can be planted on the mountain.”
Wenren Yue naturally agreed wholeheartedly: “That’s excellent.”
Nanting County had just paid its taxes this year, and much more than in previous years, so it was in a state of depletion.
But Le Wuyia, with his swift and decisive methods, had first confiscated the Lucky Charm Casino and then the squire’s manor, making a considerable amount of money.
Le Wuyia continued: “The roads also need to be paved. With yellow mud roads, it’s too muddy and difficult to travel in the rain. Nanting’s geographical advantages aren’t bad; they need to be properly utilized.”
Wenren Yue nodded.
“There are quite a few merchants passing through this county, but after a few days of walking around, I’ve found that most stop here to rest or have tea and meals, but few buy anything. People from north and south have bags full of money but don’t spend it in Nanting. What’s the point of them passing through?” Le Wuyia said. “We need to make things refined and distinctive so that others are willing to stop longer, stay longer, and buy more.”
Wenren Yue frowned slightly.
That way, the money confiscated and stored in the treasury wouldn’t be enough.
Le Wuyia: “We also need to build several public latrines. We can’t use the ditches as toilets—it’s filthy and dirty, and it wastes such good fertilizer.”
Wenren Yue did a quick calculation: “Out of money.”
Le Wuyia ignored him: “We also need to build several reservoirs. The Nanting coal mine draws a lot of water, and we also need to deal with droughts. Reservoirs can conserve water sources. I’ve already scouted out seven or eight locations…”
Wenren Yue: “No money.”
Le Wuyia continued with his ideas: “To attract more people, we also need to reduce city gate taxes and horse taxes. Small amounts add up, and only then can this place truly achieve long-term development.”
Wenren Yue: “That will mean even less money.”
Le Wuyia: “…Can you say something else?”
Wenren Yue said sincerely: “We really have no money.”
Le Wuyia’s mind was gradually occupied by new worries.
Indeed, there was too much he wanted to do, but all of it was things that wouldn’t see returns in the short term.
Without money, nothing could be implemented.
He could proceed slowly, for instance, by handling one or two things first, but his habit was to charge forward and run multiple lines in parallel.
The battlefield, the officialdom—both were like that.
Now, being forced to move slowly and cautiously was uncomfortable and displeasing.
After pondering for a long while, Le Wuyia suddenly raised his head, his eyes lighting up.
Wenren Yue: “What’s wrong?”
Le Wuyia was very pleased—so pleased that he patted the dog’s head several times: “There’s someone I can contact!”
Wenren Yue knew that Le Wuyia never mentioned his past life, but he still couldn’t help being curious: “Who is it?”
As expected, Le Wuyia didn’t answer. He casually picked up a piece of broken tile, weighed it in his hand, and threw it in a diagonal arc.
The tile moved with uncanny agility, skipping and leaping across the water’s surface, disappearing into the distance in the blink of an eye.
Wenren Yue had never seen a stone skipped so far in his life. He stared at the last ripple for a long time before turning to look at Le Wuyia, who was smiling at his side. He felt that those ripples were just like Le Wuyia’s eyes—shimmering and beautiful.