Kang Hua’s direct superior was Prefect Lu. He had to carry out what Prefect Lu had entrusted to him, and even with censors standing right in front of him, he made a firm show of where he stood.
Fan Lu heard Kang Hua’s declaration and asked with an expression hovering between a smile and something else: “Has Brother Kang thought this through? Do you truly want to know the circumstances of the case?”
The relationship between capital officials and local officials was a peculiar one. Both were officials, yet a certain indescribable difference existed between them in manner and bearing — a difference that also existed between those who had spent years close by their superiors and those who worked independently far from them. Difficult to name yet real, undeniably so. Even the same person, serving in the capital versus serving in the regions, would exhibit slight differences; very few could be exceptions.
Zhù Ying was one of those exceptions.
Kang Hua was clearly a typical case.
After Fan Lu’s words landed, a look of discomfort crossed Kang Hua’s face. Zhù Ying was happy to stand by and watch the exchange between them. In an instant she had guessed at something of Prefect Lu’s, Kang Hua’s, and Ruan Zhi and Fan Lu’s respective intentions.
Then Ruan Zhi smoothed things over, saying: “This is a Censorate case and does not concern your prefecture at all — we only need to ask Magistrate Zhù a few questions. You may rest fully assured. Magistrate Zhù, please see to it that Brother Kang is well accommodated, and let the two of us have a talk — how does that sound?”
Only then did Zhù Ying say: “Xiao Wu.”
Xiao Wu came in with a deferential stoop, made a gesture of invitation toward Kang Hua, and escorted him respectfully away to wait in another room.
Zhù Ying glanced at Senior Clerk Guan, who immediately hunched his neck and followed along — Guan had absolutely no wish to get tangled up in any of this.
Zhù Ying said to Ruan Zhi and Fan Lu: “Since this is not a matter of interrogating me, please step inside, sit down, and tell me at leisure.”
Ruan Zhi said: “Magistrate Zhù is joking — we two are guests who follow the host’s lead.”
His rank was not higher than Zhù Ying’s; he benefited from the prestige of being a capital official and a censor, which was why he could speak to Zhù Ying as an equal when asking questions. Yet in his conduct throughout, he had maintained a measure of courtesy toward her — without the kind of condescension toward local officials that was common among “imperially dispatched emissaries.”
Zhù Ying said: “Please.”
The group moved to the small flower hall and sat down. Cao Chang and the others served tea, then stood silently to one side without a word.
Fan Lu observed Zhù Ying with curiosity. He saw a composed, fair-complexioned young official in plain cloth garments, her features gentle in outline — not smiling, yet not cold. This person was a little younger than him and already outranked him considerably; she had come out of the Court of Judicial Review — he wondered what capabilities she actually possessed…
Ruan Zhi also looked at Zhù Ying and said: “Magistrate Zhù comes from the Court of Judicial Review, so you should know the rules. We two have not come to conduct an interrogation — only to ask some questions, and then we will be on our way. Magistrate Zhù need not feel constrained.”
Zhù Ying said: “Understood.”
At one look at these two, whom she had never met before, she knew there was something interesting about this case. The Censorate had no prison of its own and borrowed the Court of Judicial Review’s jail to hold its prisoners, so the Censorate and the Court of Judicial Review had quite a bit of contact. Zhù Ying was a person who paid attention to detail, and she had met everyone at the Censorate. These two were unfamiliar — they must have arrived at the Censorate only after she left the capital.
The Censorate, like all yamens, had far more clerks than officials. If you subtracted from the already limited number of officials those currently holding vacancies, and among those remaining you had to find two that Zhù Ying didn’t recognize, pairing them together to travel over seventeen hundred li and ask about a single case — this was deeply unusual.
Ruan Zhi said: “We have come on account of the matter of Su Kuang. Did you know Su Kuang before, Magistrate Zhù?”
Zhù Ying did not play word games with him: “When I entered the Court of Judicial Review, he was already there. When I was posted away, he was still there.”
Ruan Zhi asked: “What was he like, as a person?”
Zhù Ying said: “Sharp and capable.”
“How so?”
Zhù Ying said: “Review the cases he reviewed. There are no flaws. When sent out to investigate cases, he often turned up findings.”
Fan Lu suddenly cut in: “So that’s why you recommended him?”
Ruan Zhi thought to himself: You fool — he’s spent ten years in the Court of Judicial Review; what interrogation tactics doesn’t he know? And you thought you could catch him off guard with a sudden jab?
Zhù Ying gave nothing away: “What did I recommend him for?”
Fan Lu said: “Just before you left the capital, his performance review…”
Ruan Zhi quickly cut off the young man’s words: “Do not bring up things unrelated to the case.”
Then he suddenly asked about the Deputy Director.
Zhù Ying said: “He is also an old hand at the Court of Judicial Review.”
Xiao Wu had brought back some news from the capital, but judging from the situation with Ruan Zhi and Fan Lu, things seemed to be more than simply Dou Peng trying to seize authority. Dou Peng would never bring in the Censorate to handle the Court of Judicial Review’s own affairs! It was clear to Zhù Ying that the Deputy Director had likely also dipped his hands in for a bit of profit, and Su Kuang went without saying — “sharp and capable” applied to skimming funds just as well as to handling cases. But when it came down to it, airing the dirty laundry was always a loss of face for the Court of Judicial Review; the best outcome was to resolve it internally. Calling in outside force was never a good look.
The censors being here meant there were other forces beyond Dou Peng, outside the Court of Judicial Review, who also wanted to exploit this affair. She just didn’t know who.
Su Kuang’s final recommendation had been written at Zheng Xi’s behest. She was hardly important enough to warrant the Censorate going to all this trouble.
She was on high alert — she would not say one word more than necessary.
Ruan Zhi slowly asked a number of further questions about Su Kuang and the Deputy Director, then asked Zhù Ying: “What is the basis for your assessment of these two?”
Zhù Ying said: “Look at the old case files they handled — one shows a sharp edge, the other steadiness. Su Kuang had real skill in handling cases and was willing to put in the effort. The Deputy Director had extensive experience.”
Fan Lu suddenly asked: “Why haven’t you asked what the case is about?”
Ruan Zhi’s brow furrowed again. Zhù Ying said: “For anyone who has handled cases, one idle sentence can easily trigger all manner of complications. Elaborating on things one doesn’t know the full details of can cause misunderstandings and actually harm the case. It is best to answer only what is asked.”
Ruan Zhi coughed loudly and said: “When you were at the Court of Judicial Review, Magistrate Zhù, you acquired quite a number of assets for it?”
“Hmm?”
Ruan Zhi corrected himself: “You once acquired assets on behalf of the Court of Judicial Review — is that correct?”
“There were some.”
“Do you still remember which ones?” As he asked, Ruan Zhi’s mood was one of unspoken envy. Though he was new to the Censorate, he had often heard others speak of Zhù the Third from the Court of Judicial Review — a “steward” who had everything in hand. The Court of Judicial Review was a powerful place, and some people there used that power to convert it to profit. Yet under Zhù Ying’s watch, a court that decided criminal cases had somehow become abundantly prosperous, with everyone from top to bottom flush with cash — without resorting to monopolizing lawsuits. That was something even the censors envied.
Zhù Ying said: “When I left, I handed over all the ledgers. I cannot now speak from memory — if I mis-recall something, that would be problematic. The Court of Judicial Review should have the old records.”
When Zhù Ying had completed the handover, there had been a ledger. There was now a signed receipt from the Deputy Director at the time of the transfer. Hu Lian had acted as witness. All three had pressed their fingerprints to it. But Zhù Ying had no intention of telling Ruan Zhi any of this — she sensed something behind all this and did not want to reveal her hand.
Seeing her impervious to any approach, Ruan Zhi had to let out a bit of the truth: “Su Kuang embezzled the Court of Judicial Review’s public assets, and we are in the process of investigating him. However, certain evidence has gone missing — that is why we have come to consult you.”
Zhù Ying said: “What sort of evidence?”
Fan Lu started to speak; Ruan Zhi pressed him back down directly. Ruan Zhi said: “An inventory of the assets from those years would be best.”
“I would never have retained internal records of the Court of Judicial Review for personal use.”
“That is not what we are suggesting.”
Fan Lu said: “Magistrate Zhù — elder colleague — we are not here to investigate you.”
Zhù Ying said: “Even if you were investigating me, there are no internal records I retained privately.”
Ruan Zhi said to Fan Lu: “Step outside for a moment.”
Fan Lu’s expression grew slightly sour. Ruan Zhi looked at him steadily, and Fan Lu, face dark, actually obeyed and left. Ruan Zhi slid his chair a little closer to Zhù Ying and said: “Fan Lu is young — what he says may be blunt, but it comes from a genuine place. We are not here to investigate you. What passes from your lips enters only my ears; I will not speak of it to a third person.”
“The records are all in the Court of Judicial Review’s sealed archives.” Zhù Ying said. And if not said, one could still write it — the moment she filed a memorial, not even eight mouths could talk their way out of it. Something with no basis could be built up from nothing; if she gave them even one word to work with, she herself would be impossible to clear.
Ruan Zhi closed his eyes and thought for a moment, then opened them again and said to Zhù Ying: “Someone inside the Court of Judicial Review filed the complaint against him.”
“Does the informant have no evidence?”
Ruan Zhi said: “What further evidence is needed? Several months with no pay of money and provisions — doesn’t that count as evidence?”
“The deficit has gotten that large?”
Ruan Zhi said: “He claims his funds came from his wife’s dowry.”
Zhù Ying thought to herself: You can’t get what you want from Su Kuang, so you think you can get it from me?
She said: “That makes things difficult — without a conviction, you cannot simply examine an official’s household accounts.”
“What advice might Magistrate Zhù offer?”
Zhù Ying said: “I left the capital two years ago — times change, and I cannot really say.”
Ruan Zhi rose and clasped his hands in a deep bow. Zhù Ying rose to steady him. Ruan Zhi entreated her again and again: “Please be willing to share your insight.”
“Had I known it would come to this, I would not have acquired all those troublesome assets in the first place.”
Ruan Zhi said: “Acquired they already are — please be willing to make one more effort.”
Zhù Ying said: “It is not that I am unwilling to help with a case that is none of mine — it is that knowing too much of it is, in the end, a complication.”
Ruan Zhi said: “This is not a large matter. I only manage the investigation; the final resolution is not mine to determine.”
“Very well — the two of you have come such a great distance; it truly has not been easy.”
“I am most grateful for your understanding. I will not forget today’s kindness.”
Zhù Ying said: “Everything has a root. Privately selling public assets — the assets would have to be in his hands first, would they not? Who handed them over to him when he took charge, and how much was handed over?”
Ruan Zhi said: “The Deputy Director did recall some things and wrote a list; there are also a few witnesses. But the account books were burned — with no documentary evidence, it is only words. Su Kuang also has witnesses on his side, all of whom say they received nothing.”
“A case with no evidence on either side?”
Ruan Zhi gave a bitter smile: “Anyone who has handled cases knows what it means when account books are burned. Otherwise I would not have come all this way.”
Zhù Ying said: “Here is what I suggest. Before I left the capital, they audited my accounts. Go back and quietly pull that file — it should contain what you need.”
Ruan Zhi let slip a little more of the truth: “We looked at it long ago. Magistrate Zhù’s accounts at the time of departure were clear. After the Deputy Director took over, with Su Kuang also involved, the two of them are now pushing the blame onto each other — each pointing the finger at the other! Both are experienced hands at casework and are not easy to get anything out of.”
Zhù Ying sorted through it mentally: So — someone complained against Su Kuang because the supplementary pay hadn’t been issued for several months, but then the relevant account books at the Court of Judicial Review were burned. Su Kuang refuses to admit to selling public assets, and the Deputy Director won’t shoulder the blame either. But Su Kuang is the more likely suspect, though the Deputy Director is not entirely clean himself. Without evidence, both parties are stonewalling.
Over such a matter, it would be entirely natural for Dou Peng to want to use it to his advantage — but the censors being here meant there had to be someone else outside the Court of Judicial Review also wanting to stir up trouble from this affair. She just couldn’t tell who.
Neither Zheng Xi nor Wen Yue’s letters, nor particularly Wang Yunhe’s or Chen Yuan’s, had mentioned this matter — either it had flared up suddenly, or it simply had nothing to do with her.
Zhù Ying said: “Then I truly have no solution to offer. I have been away for over two years. Through those two years, great distances have separated us — official documents are fine, but to travel to the capital for any other purpose takes nearly half a year each way. What could I possibly know?”
Ruan Zhi was somewhat disappointed, yet persisted: “Is there truly nothing to be done?”
Zhù Ying said: “The move was made too late — the accounts should have been sealed much earlier.”
Ruan Zhi sighed: “A wasted journey after all.”
Zhù Ying said: “The hour is late. Please rest at the post station first.”
Ruan Zhi had sent Fan Lu away and still gotten nothing from Zhù Ying that he had wanted. Both men were somewhat deflated. Fan Lu even said: “Could it be that his falling out with Su Kuang was an act? That he still wants to shield Su Kuang? They are both people who came from under Zheng the Adviser…”
Ruan Zhi said: “Do not talk nonsense. You were a bit rash today.”
Fan Lu smiled: “A person my age is supposed to be rash — pity I couldn’t catch him off guard. Are we going to see Prefect Lu tomorrow?”
Ruan Zhi said: “No. We are here to investigate Su Kuang, not to investigate them. Getting back to report our findings quickly is what matters.”
“A pity that nothing came of it.”
Ruan Zhi said: “Nothing came of it — that’s that. This is a thorny one!”
The two of them discussed it further but ultimately had no solution, and their feelings toward Zhù Ying could not be called satisfying.
The next morning the two set off urgently to return to the capital to work the case, refusing Zhù Ying’s offer to stay. They also told Kang Hua they would not be going to the prefectural city, leaving their cards and asking Kang Hua to convey their regards to Prefect Lu.
On Zhù Ying’s side, she spent the night rereading all the letters from the capital. The Deputy Director had touched lightly on a few lines about Su Kuang “climbing to higher branches” and “feathering his own nest,” but no other letters corroborated this, and it was too late now to write to the capital asking questions. She would have to send inquiries along with the next batch of official documents and ask several people before she could judge the matter.
She prepared a modest gift of local produce for each of the three travelers and personally escorted all three to the official road outside the county seat. The gifts were measured precisely — not so few as to seem dismissive.
Kang Hua deliberately lagged behind; he had another task from Prefect Lu — once the censors were dealt with, he was to summon Zhù Ying to the prefectural city for a talk. Otherwise, with censors having come to investigate and the Prefect still in the dark about what criminal case the county magistrate was entangled in, how would they manage if something came up later?
Ruan Zhi and Fan Lu mounted their horses with displeasure, briefly thanked Zhù Ying for the local gifts, and were about to spur their horses back to the capital when a group of riders came galloping from afar: “An order has arrived! An order has arrived!”
Kang Hua thought to himself: And now what?
Ruan Zhi and Fan Lu assumed this must be Zhù Ying’s affair, and were both inclined to ride on without caring. But to their surprise, this group came charging directly toward them!
The lead rider first ignored Zhù Ying entirely and asked: “Are the two censors Ruan and Fan present?”
Both replied: “What is the matter?”
The rider said: “You are ordered to remain and investigate the garrison case at Fulu County.”
Zhù Ying thought to herself: What case has Commander Ding committed?!
Ruan Zhi and Fan Lu both dismounted, produced their credentials for verification, and once confirmed, the rider took out an official document and handed it to Ruan Zhi: “You are to investigate the military provisions accounts of the Fulu County garrison.”
Kang Hua heard that this had nothing to do with him and said to Zhù Ying: “Prefect Lu orders that once this matter is concluded, you come to the prefectural city. I will go back and report to His Lordship first.”
Zhù Ying said: “Safe travels.” Kang Hua bowed to Ruan Zhi and Fan Lu: “Farewell.”
Both said: “One moment.”
Kang Hua asked: “What is it?”
The two drew Kang Hua aside and showed him a glance at the official document. An expression of surprise spread across Kang Hua’s face. Fan Lu said: “Brother Kang, I am afraid you will not be leaving just yet — we need your help.”
Ruan Zhi then said to Zhù Ying: “I am afraid we must trouble you again.”
Zhù Ying said: “Not at all. Will you still be staying at the post station?”
“It seems there is no choice.”
“Please.” Zhù Ying made a gesture of invitation, inwardly full of silent alarm: something about this wasn’t right! The way the two of them looked at her was odd. How long had Commander Ding even been here? How could there be a problem with his provisions? Could it involve me? And why keep Kang Hua here — is it to keep watch over me?
Ruan Zhi said: “We two are not acquainted with Commander Ding. We must trouble Magistrate Zhù to invite him on our behalf.”
As the three walked back toward the post station together Zhù Ying said: “Certainly. Do you want to issue an official summons, or merely ask him questions?”
Ruan Zhi smiled: “We would not put Magistrate Zhù in an awkward position in the middle.”
“Good.”
The three returned to the post station first, and Zhù Ying went to find Commander Ding herself.
Commander Ding’s household was already busy preparing for the housewarming. Though he risked getting beaten by his wife, he was still at home helping at this hour. The soldier on gate duty at the Ding residence — one of the men Commander Ding had transferred from the camp — saw Zhù Ying and grinned: “Lord Zhù has arrived! This lowly one will go report to our Commander at once.”
Zhù Ying said: “No need to rush.”
The soldier still shot off like smoke, and Commander Ding appeared moments later: “Lord Zhù is here so early! My wine and dishes aren’t even ready yet.”
Zhù Ying said: “Is this a convenient place to talk?”
Commander Ding said: “Come to the study.”
Commander Ding did not read. The “study” was purely nominal — in reality it was his reception room, meant to project an air of cultivation. The two sat as host and guest, and Zhù Ying said: “Two censors from the capital want to see you.”
“Eh? What dealings do I have with censors? I tried to keep a concubine — but it didn’t work out, did it?” He rubbed his face, where the scratches had not yet healed.
Zhù Ying said: “Does that even count as an offence? Watch yourself — since there’s no official document naming you yet, the matter isn’t serious for now.”
“I see! Lord Zhù — will you go with me?”
Zhù Ying said: “If I don’t go with you, how can we still be friends? Come on.”
The two walked out into the courtyard, and Commander Ding bellowed toward the back of the house: “I’m going out with Lord Zhù!”
Madam Ding came around from the rear and, upon seeing Zhù Ying, smiled: “Lord Zhù is always kind enough to look out for our household.”
Zhù Ying said: “Not at all.”
Only then did Madam Ding release Commander Ding to go out the door.
The two arrived at the post station to find everything already set up and waiting. Ruan Zhi, Fan Lu, and Kang Hua were chatting together. Their combined attendants numbered over ten, all lined up in orderly formation.
Zhù Ying was silently on guard; Commander Ding was blithely unconcerned. Zhù Ying introduced Ruan Zhi, Fan Lu, and Kang Hua to Commander Ding. Commander Ding clasped his fists to each in salute and asked: “I don’t know what this visit is for?”
Commander Ding was not in the least intimidated — he was a military man, and could not be dealt with arbitrarily as ordinary officials could.
Ruan Zhi invited them both to be seated. Commander Ding held the lowest rank among those present and so sat at the furthest end.
Ruan Zhi asked: “Does Commander Ding have a man called Hong Wu under his command?”
He does. Zhù Ying answered in her mind. Commander Ding’s troops received supplementary payments through her hands — roughly a hundred men in all — and she even knew what each of them looked like.
Commander Ding also said: “Yes, what has this rascal done?”
Ruan Zhi nodded but answered with a question instead: “What is he like?”
“Well enough, I suppose — he’s an industrious soldier.”
“And his character?”
Commander Ding said: “That is a peculiar question. For us soldiers, loyalty to the Emperor and love of country is the paramount virtue. How can that be anything but good?”
Ruan Zhi said: “So he is trustworthy, then?”
“Has he committed some offence?” Commander Ding suddenly became wary.
Ruan Zhi smiled slightly: “Let me tell Commander Ding — five hundred li from here there is a place called Fengbao, and the soldiers garrisoned there nearly mutinied.”
“What? What does that have to do with Hong Wu?”
Ruan Zhi turned to Zhù Ying: “Magistrate Zhù, if I were to seal the accounts now, it wouldn’t be too late — would it? You are known for your capability, and everyone knows it. Sometimes, however, being too capable is not good. The garrison at Fengbao and the local man Hong Wu and others all came from the same home area. Magistrate Zhù takes pity on people and paid them — they are, after all, from the same place…”
It turned out that men conscripted in the same area were not all necessarily posted to the same location. Fulu County needed about a hundred men; if Hong Wu’s hometown conscripted three hundred at one time, the other two hundred would be posted elsewhere. Hong Wu and his fellow villagers had come to Fulu County with Commander Ding; his other village mates were garrisoned at Fengbao.
Just before the New Year, Zhù Ying had not only paid the monthly supplement but had also given each man a bonus at a scale varying by rank for the holiday. Taken all together, for ordinary households the sum was considerable. Zhù Ying had also provided the very low-cost remittance service for sending money home, allowing Hong Wu’s family to have a prosperous New Year.
As pure chance would have it, Hong Wu, in addition to “being industrious,” had one other trait: a big mouth. Commander Ding did not manage his men overly harshly, and also wanted to show Zhù Ying respect, so he had chosen a strapping and eloquent soldier to accompany the people Fulu County had sent to run the sojourners’ hall back to their home village — partly as a guide for the Fulu County people, and partly as protection for their safety on the road.
That man was Hong Wu.
Having a big mouth was an asset when the road was long and boring, but back home it turned into a liability when bragging. He returned home, helped the sojourners’ hall people distribute the money they had carried, then went home himself. The New Year meant visiting relatives, and when his mouth opened, the boasting began: “We’re going to be well-off now! In Fulu County they give us land, grain, even oxen and plows!”
Like all men who had gone out into the world and come home again, he could not slink back in disgrace. Conscripted military service was a thankless affair, but making money from it was a different matter entirely!
Before long, news spread through the whole area of how he had been showing off. He had only saved up two strings of cash, but he had scattered those two strings of coins into a large round basket and set it on the table in his main hall for visitors to admire. From that coin, the boasting grew further and further beyond bounds.
The news reached the families of the men garrisoned at Fengbao — if things were like that in Fulu County, surely Fengbao must be similar?
It was not — not at all.
At Fengbao, even forging a decent relationship with the garrison required starting from the commanding officer and working down; who would think to look after the individual common soldiers? That all depended on whether the commander was a decent man.
The commander there was too busy lining his own pockets to bother. He also made his soldiers live frugally in order to appear clean-handed himself, and had no thought of looking out for them. He was not a decent man, ate and lived in obvious luxury, and under the pretext of a “lean period,” had also embezzled a sum of funds. The lives of the Fengbao garrison grew harder and harder.
And then it erupted.
It started when a soldier received word from home — his father had died, but there was no money for burial. The family had borrowed money to see to the funeral and was asking him to send some of his pay home to repay the debt.
He went to the commanding officer to request the money. The commanding officer’s personal troops turned him away, saying he was “inconsiderate and had no sense of occasion.”
An argument broke out, and the personal troops beat him. The Fengbao soldiers were all from the same home area, so compatriots stood up for compatriots, and a fight broke out with the personal troops. The commanding officer then tried to “enforce military law” — he wanted to execute the ringleaders who had caused him trouble. This stirred the hornets’ nest at last; the soldiers erupted in uproar, drew their weapons, and stormed the commanding officer’s tent, taking him hostage.
They then killed all the personal troops who had flattered the officer and bullied the common soldiers, and together elected two representatives to petition their superiors, laying out the charges against the commanding officer.
The affair blew up into a major incident. The local authorities rushed urgent dispatches to the capital, and the Emperor was furious!
The capital simultaneously ordered the situation appeased and the mutinous soldiers dealt with, while also demanding a thorough investigation. The matter was urgent and required a quick conclusion.
Sending new officials there to investigate would take too long, and since Ruan Zhi and Fan Lu were already in the vicinity, they might as well send a dispatch racing along the postal relay to notify them — far faster than dispatching new officials from scratch!
Zhù Ying herself had nothing to do with any of this at the core of it. She said: “The Fengbao garrison mutinied because of mistreatment — what does that have to do with my Fulu County?”
Ruan Zhi said: “Everything has a root. The financial accounts still need to be discussed.”
Commander Ding was also at a loss. He was not much of a reader, and his accounts were rather muddled. He looked toward Zhù Ying with some anxiety.
Zhù Ying said: “The accounts may be sealed and examined — examine mine for a thousand years if you like. With spring planting coming up, I need to arrange the county’s grain and financial management for that major undertaking. If spring planting is disrupted, I will not let this stand.”
Ruan Zhi smiled: “That is only natural.”
Zhù Ying said: “Please.” But in her mind she cursed: For heaven’s sake!
She gave Commander Ding a look. Commander Ding was troubled, and muttered under his breath: “Damn it, I’ll cut that rascal’s tongue out!”
Fan Lu overheard and gave him a meaningful glance.
Zhù Ying thought: Would you please keep your mouth shut!
The case was principally about the mutiny, but since Ruan Zhi and Fan Lu were in Fulu County, they examined Fulu County first, saying: “We still need to travel to Fengbao — we won’t take too much of Magistrate Zhù’s time.”
Zhù Ying said: “Please.”
The whole group moved to the county yamen. Since Zhù Ying was now the subject of the audit, she had no choice but to yield the main hall to Ruan Zhi. Even so, Ruan Zhi did not treat her as a person under investigation — he invited her to sit as well. Commander Ding was also allowed to take the last seat.
Fan Lu said: “Time is short — let’s be brief. Commander Ding, where are your accounts?”
Commander Ding said: “I’ll have them fetched at once!”
Ruan Zhi said: “One moment.” He directed two of his own attendants to go with Commander Ding’s men to fetch the account books from the camp, and also to bring Hong Wu along with them.
Then Ruan Zhi said courteously to Zhù Ying: “I wonder how the county accounts for this particular entry are recorded? As I understand it, Fulu County is not prosperous. Please allow us to seal the accounts and examine them.”
He invited Kang Hua to examine Fulu County’s account books together. The county’s old accounts from years past had long since been cleared; what remained were the new accounts established after Zhù Ying’s arrival. Even so, none of those present were specialists in bookkeeping, and the examination was extremely laborious.
Fan Lu said: “We only need to look at this one entry.”
They directed their attendants to first put a seal on the cover, then asked Fulu County to extract from the accounts the portion relating to their dealings with Commander Ding. If it looked clean, they could pass. If there was even a minor problem, they would audit all the way back.
Zhù Ying said: “Although the county is not prosperous, after the court exempted the arrears, things improved. One cannot thrive under the weight of new debt stacked on top of old. With the old debt cleared, no new debt naturally follows. Furthermore, hidden farmland and hidden households have been turned up, and that money does exist. Master Qi.”
While other officials cowered in terror at the sight of censors, Qi Tai was constitutionally oblivious; he shuffled in, eyes half closed, ledger in arm, and read out the accounts to Ruan Zhi.
The land reclamation and allocation, the provision of draft oxen and seed — all of these had official correspondence as documentation, and the Fulu County accounts had a clear entry labeled “grain and funds” written as a reclamation subsidy.
Ruan Zhi then asked: “Why, with no existing farmland, was it necessary to allocate wasteland?”
Senior Clerk Guan quickly cut in: “It had been abandoned.” He pushed the entire blame onto Magistrate Wang, explaining at length Wang’s neglect of duty, which had caused the convict labor camp to fall into disuse and the garrison to withdraw — and once the garrison withdrew, the land the garrison had been farming was left fallow too. The official paperwork for this was all intact: a garrison withdrawal required documentation.
Ruan Zhi and Fan Lu pulled out that piece of correspondence, verified the official seal, and said: “That holds up.”
Shortly thereafter, Commander Ding’s accounts also arrived. The supplement funded by Zhù Ying’s side was straightforward; it was the rations and pay disbursed by Commander Ding himself where the accounts were somewhat unclear, and large beads of sweat broke out all over Commander Ding’s forehead.
Ruan Zhi looked it over and gave a quiet smile, then dropped the ledger on the desk. He said to Zhù Ying: “Please forgive us for the discourtesy.”
Zhù Ying said: “What discourtesy is there? A clear investigation is the best outcome.”
Both sides exchanged a round of courtesies. Just like that, the day was spent. That evening Ruan Zhi and his party remained at the post station, but Zhù Ying summoned Hou Wu: “Travel to the capital tonight!”
Hou Wu had just been about to sleep; when called over he thought it would be a simple errand, but once he learned the “errand’s” content, he was dumbfounded — this errand was far too long!
He asked carefully: “My lord, has something happened?”
Zhù Ying said coldly: “Does something have to have happened for me to go to the capital? Pack your things and go see these people…”
The first person she had Hou Wu see was Zheng Xi — to sound out his position, and find out what exactly was going on behind the Su Kuang affair. The second was Chen Yuan, to ask him for guidance. No one else was to be asked.
Hou Wu saw her expression was grave and said quickly: “Yes!”
Zhù Ying wrote out his papers right that night. Hou Wu departed from Fulu County and went straight toward the capital!
On the other side, Ruan Zhi and Fan Lu did not linger long in Fulu County. Though they were not very satisfied with Zhù Ying, they knew that the root of the mutiny case lay not in Fulu County but in Fengbao; handle it badly, and the two of them would be implicated as well.
The next morning, without even waiting to take the local gifts Zhù Ying had prepared, the two of them left at once for Fengbao.
Kang Hua said to Zhù Ying: “Come with me to see Prefect Lu! What on earth is all this?!”
Zhù Ying said: “I still need to prepare for spring planting.”
“Your accounts were sealed and now you’re talking about spring planting?”
Zhù Ying smiled: “Haven’t they been unsealed now?”
Kang Hua lowered his voice: “With censors coming, what exactly is going on? You won’t say a word, so how can His Lordship and I help you?”
Zhù Ying said: “This matter has nothing to do with any of us — it concerns the capital. Do you truly want to know?”
Kang Hua wrinkled his nose in distaste: “Fine, keep it to yourself! Hmph!”
Zhù Ying said: “I would like to say — but I don’t know where to begin. Moreover…”
“What?”
Zhù Ying said: “This affair, I suspect, is best for Prefect Lu to steer well clear of.”
Kang Hua’s eyes went wide!
Zhù Ying said to Kang Hua: “I will not make things difficult for you. Give me a moment — I will write a letter that you can pass on to Prefect Lu.”
Seeing her being so thoroughly impossible, Kang Hua was furious: “You are truly ungrateful! His Lordship means well by protecting you, and you act like this!”
Zhù Ying said: “Brother Kang’s journey here has truly been exhausting.”
Kang Hua shook his sleeve and stormed off.
Senior Clerk Guan only now dared to edge forward. He asked timidly: “My lord… what… shall we do now?”
Zhù Ying raised an eyebrow: “What do you mean ‘what shall we do’?”
Senior Clerk Guan dared not answer; he was genuinely anxious. Unable to ask further, he returned to the county yamen and waited outside the administrative office, and when Xiao Wu passed by, he grabbed him!
Xiao Wu jumped!
Senior Clerk Guan said: “Stop pretending. Answer me one thing — when you went to the capital, did anything happen?”
Xiao Wu smiled sunnily: “What could have happened? The Chancellors all speak very highly of Daren! There were reply letters from everyone.”
Senior Clerk Guan looked at him with suspicion: “Truly?”
“Of course it’s true! If things were bad, would I have come back? I’m a capital native — I’d have gone straight home and stayed there!” Xiao Wu said.
A faint smile finally spread across Senior Clerk Guan’s face: “Good, good — then it seems nothing will come of this.”
“How could nothing come of it?” Xiao Wu said deliberately, watching Senior Clerk Guan’s face fill with worry again, before slowly adding the next line: “Something good will come of it!”
Senior Clerk Guan laughed and scolded him at once: “You little monkey!” He clasped his hands behind his back and strolled off. He had evidently believed Xiao Wu’s words.
Xiao Wu’s words were not wrong, either. Three days after he answered Senior Clerk Guan, Zhù Ying received more concern from the capital.
The letter was from Leng Yun, who had specially dispatched a man from the capital to deliver an urgent letter.
The letter read: That bastard Duan Ying is going to make a name for himself in the capital again — he wrote a rhapsody that everyone loves, celebrating the Crown Prince’s new son, and his father Duan Lin is trying to get him recalled to court. The Emperor seems to be somewhat moved! We can’t fall behind! Do you want me, your uncle, to help you come back? He has poems and essays; you have auspicious omens! Hurry up — produce something, a white pheasant or whatever, if nothing else a magic fungus will do! Your “father” Zheng Xi can’t move right now — he’s having a terrible time, getting scolded by his uncle every day. Don’t count on him. And don’t count on the Chancellery either — you know perfectly well what Wang Yunhe is like. Hurry up! Uncle will help you.
Zhù Ying thought to herself: You don’t know that Ruan Zhi came and questioned me about two separate cases. If someone were to stir up trouble in the middle of all that, things could get bad enough that I might end up being escorted to the capital in chains.