Chapter 533: Who Will Judge Right and Wrong? The Censor’s Pen Is Like a Blade
At noon, over a hundred soldiers returned to Xuanfu with a grand convoy. Although the laborers were still worried about the previous turmoil, Zhang Yue had promised that those found unrelated to the thieves would not be troubled, which relieved them at least a bit. When they arrived at the square in front of Yongqing Granary, Zhang Yue ordered all the rice bags marked with the Wu family’s seal to be unloaded. After inspection, it was discovered that almost all of the 1,000 dan of grain was actually sand.
“The Wu family truly has audacious courage!”
Seeing Meng Jun’s angry expression, Zhang Yue shook his head and said, “In my opinion, it’s precisely because they used the Wu family’s name that they dared to act so recklessly. Think about it—inspections at the granaries are extremely strict these days. How could these bags of yellow sand slip through? I only became suspicious after realizing those laborers were from the Wu family. In my haste, I almost caused trouble.”
Military grain supplied to the granaries had always been of utmost importance in various border towns, not to mention that this batch from Xuanfu was meant to cover the shortages from the northern campaigns. Inspections were extremely rigorous—each bag carried the mark of its merchant, and random checks were conducted, making it impossible to cheat. That’s why, when suspicions focused on the Wu family, Zhang Yue cut open the rice bags, confirming his vague suspicions. After all, if something serious had happened in broad daylight, every merchant involved would have suffered severe consequences, so the culprits surely wouldn’t reveal themselves.
After careful consideration, Meng Jun had to admit Zhang Yue’s reasoning made sense. Glancing at the men tied up like zongzi, his gaze lingered on Wu Yan for a while before he asked in a low voice, “Now that we’ve caught them, what do you plan to do next? That guy has been shot three times. Even if it’s not a vital spot, it’s still serious. He’s managed to hold on until now—getting information out of him won’t be easy.”
“Hand Wu Yan over to Marquis Wu’an. He’s highly suspicious; he might even be a Tatar spy. It’s only fitting for Marquis Wu’an to deal with him. As for the others, I might still need them. If they resist stubbornly, I’ll have to rely on the Jinyiwei. As for your brother-in-law, I’ll ask you to make another trip to Zhangjiakou Fort this afternoon. If we’re going to put on a show, we should do it thoroughly, right?”
At first glance, this arrangement seemed perfect, but Meng Jun quickly figured out what was going on. Seeing Zhang Yue smile slightly before walking over to Peng Shisan and pointing at the captives as if giving orders, he shook his head in annoyance. It was all Zhang Yue’s idea, and it seemed he was also an expert at assigning tasks… After all, assigning tasks meant distributing credit, and he did this flawlessly—no idea where Zhang Yue had learned such skills!
With hundreds of laborers to screen one by one, it was extremely difficult, so Zhang Yue first selected everyone from the Wu family’s convoy. The rest were divided into a dozen or so groups based on kinship or acquaintances, with the officials focusing on checking those hired by the Wu family and those who didn’t know anyone else. Once Zheng Heng received word and sent his guards to take away the barely conscious Wu Yan, he walked over to the others tied together and gave them a cold glance.
“I’ll give you one last chance—to tell us everything you know. If you keep holding your tongue, I’ll have to send you to the Jinyiwei. They’re idle anyway and desperate for someone to practice torture on!”
As soon as he finished speaking, a man tightly bound rolled over and crawled over, raising his head and shouting, “Sir, please spare my life! I’ll tell you everything! I was hired by Boss Wu. He said his surname was Wu and he was from the Wu family in Fenzhou, so I believed him. I don’t know the man who tried to assassinate you—he’s Boss Wu’s confidant, and I just took money to do his bidding! Boss Wu taught us some lines, and I just repeated them; I never intended to harm your reputation… I… I also know that among those laborers are a few of Boss Wu’s men!”
The mention of the Jinyiwei was even more effective than a death warrant. As soon as this man confessed, the others rushed to reveal everything they knew. With these confessions, Zhang Yue quickly identified five or six more people among the laborers. Although they didn’t know much, questioning them each yielded some information. But today, he had no patience to analyze or organize it. He waved his hand and ordered Xiang Long and Liu Bao to take them away.
Since most of the remaining laborers were fellow villagers who could vouch for each other, the officials recorded their names one by one before consulting Zhang Yue. In the end, they were all released temporarily, though ordered not to leave the city. Free from imprisonment and able to regain their liberty so quickly, the three or four hundred people breathed a sigh of relief and crowded around to kowtow, offering apologies in a noisy chorus. Faced with such sincere and kind people, Zhang Yue naturally felt no resentment, but he still had to say something.
“What happened today was merely instigated by villains. Everyone needn’t take it to heart. It’s my duty to prevent you from leaving the city, and I truly apologize for that. Meeting here by chance can be seen as fate. I have just one piece of advice for you: you are all good people. If you encounter similar situations where someone stirs up trouble in the future, think carefully—otherwise, it will be too late to correct your mistakes!”
With several hundred more people added to Xuanfu City, which already had over a hundred thousand inhabitants, and all of them being ordinary folks like cart drivers and laborers who wouldn’t have made a dent in the city’s population otherwise, their discussions about what had happened spread quickly. Word of mouth often lacks accuracy—some said Zhang Yue had split the assassin in two with a single sword; others claimed the two Tartar envoys were so scared they wet themselves on the spot; still others said the instigators were wealthy merchants who hadn’t been granted salt permits before and were now seeking revenge… But those who heard these stories naturally chose to believe what they wanted to hear, filtering out the rest.
The northwest and southwest corners of Xuanfu were mostly remote streets and alleys. In the center lay important military installations like the general’s headquarters, with granaries in each of the four corners. The southeast was home to large inns frequented by wealthy merchants, while the northwest housed scholars and a small number of civil officials in the entire town. Among them was Liu Zixu, the imperial censor overseeing Xuanfu, who rented a residence there.
Though sharing the same name as the once-famous Wu Zixu, Liu Zixu, who was nearly at the age of fifty, had had a rough career. He passed the imperial examinations at forty and had worked in several government offices before finally settling at the Censorate, where he had been for five years. Although his rank was only seventh grade, as an imperial censor tasked with inspecting the empire, he held great power. Thus, he was full of confidence and not regretful about his age. At that moment, he paced back and forth in his study, his face filled with excitement.
“What calmness and decisive judgment? No matter what Zhang Yue might be thinking, acting on his own to deal with the Mongolian envoy is arbitrary and an overstep of authority! The emperor has long established rules: if there are envoys from other tribes at the border towns, they must be respectfully sent to the capital. Not to mention that he holds only a fifth-rank official position and has no right to make such decisions—even Marquis Wu’an Zheng Heng cannot unilaterally form any agreements with the Tartars! The Zhang family already enjoys excessive favor, with one duke and one uncle in their ranks. Even if Zhang Yue is truly talented and meritorious, and though he is young, he shouldn’t be used in such a manner. Just look at how arrogant he has become!”
Seeing this veteran from the imperial examinations and the Censorate spouting insults more and more fervently, Yu Qian tried several times to interrupt but failed to find an opportunity, causing him to frown. If the rumors were true, then it was justified to accuse Zhang Yue of overstepping his authority, regardless of the motives—rules are rules, and one cannot ignore them just because of personal favor. However, extending this to the entire Zhang family and even claiming Zhang Yue was arrogant went too far.
Liu Zixu, however, paid no attention to Yu Qian’s expression. His steps grew faster, and his anger grew as well: “Scholars across the land study hard for decades, going through many ups and downs in the imperial examinations before finally achieving the title of Jinshi. Yet Zhang Yue was granted the status of Juren by imperial decree, bypassing the most difficult hurdle. On top of that, he passed both the provincial and imperial examinations in one go. Where does this leave all those humble scholars? And not only that—he, as a civil official, even colludes with eunuchs. How can he have the integrity of a scholar?”
At this point, he turned around and said to Yu Qian with fervor, “Tingyi, having talked closely with you these past days, I feel that you have a straightforward character and integrity—perfectly suited to be an imperial censor. How about we jointly submit a petition to accuse him, thereby restoring order in the court?”
Yu Qian pondered for a moment before answering calmly, “Elder Liu, this is a serious matter. I must go and inquire carefully with those commoners tomorrow. If it’s true, I will report it truthfully without hesitation. But if it’s not true, to base a report on rumors and slander innocent people would be ungentlemanly.”
If it were anyone else, hearing these words would surely make them furious, but due to his time spent living with Yu Qian these past few days and his deep understanding of Yu’s character, Liu Zixu instead nodded repeatedly: “It was my rashness. Listening to one-sided opinions is indeed not what an imperial censor should do. Tingyi, go and investigate thoroughly tomorrow. I have already asked around; I’ll draft a memorial overnight and submit it right away—no need to wait for you! I only hope the emperor will understand the sincerity of his subjects. Even if he sends me to Jiaozhi, I will accept it willingly.”
Since the emperor had grown accustomed to demoting officials in recent years, when Liu Zixu said those last words, he couldn’t help but think of several colleagues who had been dismissed during the fire in the main hall in March, causing his expression to darken with sorrow. But soon he regained his spirits. After bidding farewell to Yu Qian and asking whether he needed to wait for him for dinner, he left the house full of vigor, like a young man.
That night, the light in Liu’s small room stayed on all night long, and Yu Qian also tossed and turned, unable to sleep.