Chapter 30#
Governing the World (III)#
Wenren Yue guessed that Brother Gu would probably go seek help from those two imperial envoys.
Brother Gu was exceptionally talented, gifted with fine qualities—they clearly both admired him greatly.
If he made a request, those two would surely fulfill it.
Sure enough, Le Wuya indeed sent out several letters next.
Two were sent to the capital, one to Jinyuan County, and one to Tonglu County.
The magistrate of Jinyuan County, Qi Wuhu, did not reply by letter. Instead, he mounted his old horse, wore his usual cold expression, and came straight to Nanting.
He accompanied Le Wuya on an inspection of the desolate mountain outside Nanting city, covered in fallen leaves. After walking for a good while, he asked, “This mountain—nobody’s managing it?”
It was a bright sunny day, somewhat dazzling. Le Wuya, worried the old man couldn’t handle the heat, raised an umbrella for him: “This mountain was originally government property. The previous magistrate planted walnuts, but unfortunately, sales were poor the first two years, the nuts were small, and the shells were thick—so it was abandoned.”
Qi Wuhu knocked away his umbrella-holding hand: “Don’t block the view.”
Le Wuya: “…Hey.”
Qi Wuhu looked up at the sun, then bent down to pick up a fallen walnut. He pinched a bit of soil with his fingertips, rolled it, and cursed: “Not even this much patience?”
Le Wuya craned his neck: “Was the planting bad?”
Qi Wuhu crushed some soil with his thumb and showed it to Le Wuya: “The soil here is sandy—suitable for walnuts originally—but they didn’t put any care into it. Walnuts aren’t grass seeds you can just scatter and expect to grow!”
He weighed the walnut in his hand and fumed: “The mistake started with the seed selection! Can this tree possibly produce thin-shelled walnuts?”
Le Wuya thought, It wasn’t me who planted these—why is he taking it out on me?
He asked, “In your opinion, what should be done?”
“What should be done?” Qi Wuhu bristled, as if taking out his anger at the previous magistrate on the current one. “If you ask me, drag that previous magistrate back here, plant him on the mountain—at least he’d fertilize the soil!”
Qi Wuhu’s distress was genuine.
Poor seed selection meant the root was ruined from the start.
If they pulled everything out and planted new walnut trees, it would still be a waste of labor and money, with uncertain results.
“It would be a shame to pull them out,” Le Wuya seemed to see through Qi Wuhu’s thoughts and tested the waters: “I was thinking of planting some tea trees here.”
Qi Wuhu was startled, his look at Le Wuya shifting slightly: “You know about land reclamation?”
Le Wuya clasped his hands behind his back, a hint of pride: “A little.”
Qi Wuhu forgot his anger for a moment and stamped the ground.
After years of neglect, the walnut leaves had fallen, forming a thick layer of humus on the soil.
Qi Wuhu’s eyes brightened.
Le Wuya: “Feasible?”
Qi Wuhu: “Feasible. Plant tea on the mountain, intercropping in the tea groves—mutual growth, mutual nourishment, continuous rotation. And with the walnut trees providing shade, tea thrives in half-sun, half-shade conditions. It’s a good method!”
But he soon fell into contemplation: “Tea is a good crop, but Yizhou doesn’t have quality tea varieties yet. Introducing them from outside risks them not adapting to the climate.”
In his previous life, Le Wuya had read countless official reports declaring achievements, many concerning land reclamation.
Le Wuya spoke readily: “There’s a large-leaf tea brought via the Tea Horse Road, originally from Dian—similar climate to Yizhou. If we start introducing the tea trees now, they can be planted by autumn this year.”
Qi Wuhu walked a full circuit with him and confirmed Le Wuya’s method was indeed effective.
But he still had a question: “What about the walnut trees?”
Le Wuya took the rotten walnut from his hand and, purely out of habit, rolled it a few times in his palm.
But with this handling, he sensed something interesting.
He bent down, picked up another fallen walnut, grabbed Qi Wuhu’s hand, and shoved it in.
Qi Wuhu was bewildered: “What are you doing?”
Le Wuya: “Roll it around.”
Qi Wuhu, usually busy with official duties and having no leisure for such refined pastimes, clumsily rolled it a couple times in his hand, still not understanding.
Le Wuya looked at him expectantly: “Well?”
Qi Wuhu rolled it a few more times. The walnut felt heavy and solid in hand—the taste would surely be terrible—but it was smooth and comfortable to roll, not rough on the fingers.
…Roll?
Le Wuya laughed: “Though it’s inedible, it’s still useful.”
The current emperor was obsessed with rolling walnuts, claiming it was good for health.
The nobility in the capital naturally followed suit, scouring everywhere for good walnuts to roll.
If they could also invite a couple of walnut carving masters…
Having observed this, Qi Wuhu felt that Le Wuya was devilishly clever. Every time his eyes moved, an idea emerged. On the surface, he was all smiles, but in truth, he was very confident.
However, halfway through their walk, the two disagreed.
Le Wuya gestured to mark a plot of land: “Don’t plant tea here. Plant some camellias instead. The soil is suitable, the light is right—not too many, just these few acres.”
Qi Wuhu shook his head firmly: “Camellias are delicate, hard to care for. Especially water and fertilizer—one wrong adjustment and you ruin a season’s harvest…”
Good camellias—not to mention the value of mature plants—even the seedlings were very expensive.
He thought about this Magistrate Wenren’s demonstrated abilities and decided not to speak too harshly: “If you’re skilled in gardening, just plant a few in your backyard.”
Le Wuya said breezily: “I’m not skilled at all. But I know someone who knows the tricks.”
Qi Wuhu still disapproved: “Then who will plant this land? The common people don’t understand—they’ll treat them like ordinary flowers. Do they know about pruning, picking stamens, or grafting?”
“Educating the people is also a magistrate’s duty,” Le Wuya said. “Magistrate Qi, do you particularly like doing everything yourself, thinking ahead for everything, never letting the people worry about a thing? How are you like…”
He knew his next words were rude, so he lowered his voice: “A broody hen.”
Unfortunately, though Qi Wuhu was over fifty, his ears were still sharp. Hearing this comparison, he flew into a rage, shook his sleeves, and walked off.
Le Wuya watched his wide robes billow as he stormed away like an angry hen, hurried after him, shamelessly pressing on: “If we share the land’s profits with the people, would they be willing to learn more?”
Qi Wuhu walked furiously but still deigned to reply: “When there’s profit to be had, do you think it’ll reach the commoners? The wealthy gentry will be sure to demand their share!”
Le Wuya stroked his chin: “I just disposed of one wealthy gentry. With Chen Yuan’s case as a warning, they won’t jump in front of me looking for death, will they?”
Seeing how argumentative and unteachable he was, Qi Wuhu snapped: “I’m taking my leave!”
Le Wuya half-coaxed, half-maneuvered Qi Wuhu to the Nanting Coal Mine, asking him to survey the locations he had in mind for dams and embankments.
Qi Wuhu, while still fuming, still helped him fill in the gaps, ultimately marking fourteen suitable locations for building dams and embankments.
Before leaving, Qi Wuhu grumbled: “You already had your mind made up—why did you invite me?!”
Le Wuya said plaintively: “Who invited you? I just sent a letter asking.”
Qi Wuhu: “…If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, how could I speak recklessly?”
Seeing how he turned a caring concern into such an aggressive remark, Le Wuya grinned and patted his back to smooth his feathers: “Grandfather, my fault, my fault. Mingke is young, just a little clever, but never quite sure of himself. Afraid that if I overlook something, it might harm the people. With your guidance, Mingke feels like the clouds have parted to reveal the sun—now I have certainty in my heart.”
Le Wuya’s eyes were sincere, his tone soft, reminding Qi Wuhu of his own troublesome but charming little grandson who knew how to wheedle affection.
Thinking of that, how could he stay angry?
Before leaving, Le Wuya stuffed some local products into his hands.
Qi Wuhu refused to accept them, took his horse, and left.
Halfway, when he dismounted to drink water, he found that bag of local products lying quietly in his saddlebag alongside his water skin.
Qi Wuhu was so exasperated he laughed.
He couldn’t help but wonder: This man invited me here, then kept showing off in front of me, flaunting his talents—what was he really after?
He himself had been a magistrate for decades, from youth to old age, always with his same irritable temper, stuck in that poor little county without a single promotion.
Why did Magistrate Wenren always prefer to consult with him?
Thinking it over and over, Qi Wuhu only found this young magistrate deep and unfathomable, quite strange.
Strange as he was, however, the man was truly talented.
If he actually managed to grow something worthwhile, maybe Qi Wuhu could invite him to Jinyuan County and ask him to advise on matters concerning the people’s livelihoods.
…
When the willows by the street showed hints of green, the Sixth and Seventh Princes concluded their inspection tour and returned to the capital to report at the palace.
The Emperor summoned the Fifth Prince to listen in. He picked several cases involving corruption, the imperial examinations, and salt-iron monopolies, asking Xiang Zhijie for details.
Xiang Zhijie accepted the order and reported methodically.
Hearing his speech, though sparse, was smooth, the Emperor clapped in delight: “Zhijie has truly recovered remarkably now.”
Xiang Zhijie bowed respectfully: “It is Father Emperor’s blessing and mercy that I am not abandoned.”
Xiang Zhishi only stroked his gemstone earring with his fingertip, saying nothing.
The Emperor suddenly asked: “Zhishi, how are things in Nanting County?”
Regarding the Nanting scholars’ rebellion case, the two had already submitted a memorial, so Xiang Zhishi only picked the key points, adding at the end: “The verdict for the Nanting case should have arrived in the capital by now, awaiting Father Emperor’s review.”
The Emperor nodded slightly: “Yesterday the Three Judicial Offices reviewed it and submitted a memorial. I have read it. Using false accusations of treason to frame scholars is truly detestable. Without severe punishment, it would chill the hearts of all scholars under heaven. That magistrate is quite skilled at adjudicating cases, but ultimately too young and soft-hearted—only sentencing the ringleader to decapitation is too lenient. I have returned it for revision. Regardless of the others, the principal culprit Chen Yuanwei is to be changed to death by slow slicing, as a warning to others.”
Xiang Zhishi: “Father Emperor is wise.”
The Fifth Prince seemed distracted. Hearing Xiang Zhishi’s words, as if suddenly realizing something, he quickly echoed: “Father Emperor is wise.”
This interjection was abrupt and improper.
The moment the words left his mouth, the Fifth Prince realized he had no place here, immediately shut his mouth, and showed a look of chagrin.
The Emperor did not reprimand him but asked with a smile: “Zhiyun, did you not sleep well last night?”
A faint sheen of sweat appeared on the Fifth Prince’s forehead. He replied in a low voice: “No, Father Emperor.”
“Then are your attendants not serving you properly? Could it be that Zuo Ruyi…”
The Fifth Prince gave a slight start. “…No.”
The Emperor’s tone was exceptionally gentle: “Xiao Liu and Xiao Qi went out on official business—for the country, for me, and for you. You must listen carefully and not let your mind wander.”
Since the Crown Prince had died of illness, the position of Eastern Palace had been long vacant.
Though no title had been formally bestowed, everyone knew the Fifth Prince was the chosen candidate for Crown Prince.
But if Le Wuya were here and saw the Fifth Prince in this state, he would surely be shocked.
When he saw the Fifth Prince before his death, he was still a fine young man, elegant as jade orchids—how had he become so timid and fearful?
“Where were we?” The Emperor mused for a moment. “Ah, yes. The magistrate of Nanting County, named Wenren Yue, correct?”
Xiang Zhishi smiled: “Yes, Father Emperor. This man, though not of high seniority, is exceptionally talented. Moreover, he is handsome in appearance—you would surely be pleased to see him.”
“Is that so?” Xiang Zheng said with a gentle, subtle smile. “I do like him quite a bit.”
He rested his hand casually on the table in a relaxed posture: “Though he comes from a ’tribute student’ background, he conducts himself with propriety and respects the rites. In the letters he sent to the two of you, he neither flatters, nor sucks up, nor asks for official positions or money. He doesn’t even mention official matters—everything is reported through proper channels level by level…”
The Emperor’s tone was calm and gentle, carrying a hint of playfulness: “For you two to hold him in such high regard, he must indeed be an exceptional talent.”
In the Zhaoming Hall, silence fell like a shroud.
Xiang Zhijie and Xiang Zhishi stood with hands at their sides, listening to the lecture, motionless.
The Fifth Prince, however, seemed to have suffered a great shock. In the suffocating, dense atmosphere, his shoulders seemed weighed down by a thousand pounds, trembling uncontrollably.
Fortunately, Le Wuya was thoroughly familiar with the old emperor’s ways.
The letters he wrote were absolutely flawless.
If the two princes had shown favor to some regional official in charge of salt, iron, or military affairs, the Emperor would surely be wary.
But for them both to favor a mere county magistrate from a tribute student background—he would only find it amusing.
After a brief stillness, Xiang Zhijie looked up and answered frankly: “To report to Father Emperor, he is not merely an exceptional talent—the man has the bearing of a qilin.”
Xiang Zhishi added in a playboy manner: “And he’s quite handsome too.”
Seeing their responses, the Emperor’s smile became unreadable.
He took a sip of tea, then suddenly said: “There’s a question, though. Zhishi received four letters—why did Zhijie only get three?”
Xiang Zhijie: “…”
Xiang Zhishi was taken aback, then turned to look at Xiang Zhijie, the corners of his mouth lifting: “Is that so? Your son wouldn’t know—perhaps Sixth Brother is simply too dull?”
The Emperor smiled slightly at the Sixth Prince: “Zhijie, what are you thinking?”
Xiang Zhijie looked up, his expression thoughtful: “Father, I have a request. The Imperial Guard Jiang He accompanied us on this assignment and performed very competently. May I have him as the captain of my household guard?”
The Emperor knew this son of his was always a beat slow and didn’t understand jokes, so he waved his hand and said: “If you want to promote him, take him.”
…
The Sixth Prince’s residence was located slightly south of the capital, with green bricks and black tiles—quite plain.
He was raised by Noble Consort Zhuang, an otherworldly, desireless immortal, who raised him to be as ascetic as a Taoist priest.
Jiang He was brought back to the residence.
Suddenly facing news of a promotion, he remained expressionless, thinking that he would surely repay this great kindness with utmost loyalty.
The household attendant Rufeng helped Xiang Zhijie remove his cloak.
Xiang Zhijie asked with elegant composure: “Has any flute music been sent?”
Rufeng replied: “Along with the letter, there was a small box. Everything has been placed on your desk in Wuyatang. I haven’t looked at it yet.”
Xiang Zhijie nodded: “Good. Don’t bother with me—take Jiang He down and settle him in. I’ll practice at Shuangsuì Hall and see to myself later. You needn’t look after me.”
Rufeng agreed readily.
As soon as he stepped out, he saw Jiang He waiting in the courtyard.
Seeing that this new captain of the guard looked as impassive as a temple gatekeeper who’d been sitting at his post for ten years, Rufeng sighed inwardly, guessing he would be difficult to get along with.
As Jiang He followed him for a while, cheerful flute music came from the southeast corner.
He turned his head, a look of surprise on his face.
Seeing that he’d finally shown some expression, Rufeng quickly explained: “It’s the prince’s habit before sleeping—he always plays a few tunes.”
Jiang He: “Oh.”
Seeing him return to that deadpan face, Rufeng sighed deeply to himself.
What an odd person.
Jiang He thought, Someone so dignified should prefer playing the guqin or zheng—why would he like a folk tune like ‘The Mouse Marries His Daughter’? He’s like a young general.
Rufeng took Jiang He on a tour of the residence to familiarize him with the environment.
After settling him in, hearing the flute music still playing, Rufeng went to check if there were any uncleaned corners in the Sixth Prince’s room. By chance, he encountered a minor issue with the household accounts, went to sort it out, and spent some time on it.
On his way back, he happened upon two maids quarreling.
After mediating for a while, Rufeng hurried to check if the Sixth Prince’s bathwater was still warm.
Just as he emerged from behind the screen, he suddenly noticed someone standing in the courtyard outside the window.
He jumped in fright, then recognized who it was: “…Lord Jiang?”
Jiang He turned his head and said succinctly: “Didn’t you say a few tunes? The Sixth Prince is still playing.”
Rufeng then noticed the time: “…Oh dear. How long has he been playing?”
Xiang Zhijie hadn’t stopped, playing straight through most of the night. The flute notes still wafted softly, sometimes joyful and cheerful, sometimes mournful and moving.
In the deep stillness of the night, Xiang Zhijie took a sip of the tea Rufeng had brought, laid the flute across his knees, and the flame slowly burning in his chest still rose on a current of air, surging upward.
…Why, only three letters?