Chapter 53: Can You Speak Plainly?

Di Ying smiled, but did not reply.
Yao Cong simply fixed his gaze on him, glancing over and over.
Yet after quite some time without a response, Yao Cong could only purse his lips and resume digging.
After a long while, Yao Cong finally heard Di Ying ask, “Suppose a field is infested with insects. How would you save the crops?”
“That’s easy, isn’t it? Just uproot the plants and sow something else,” Yao Cong replied casually, bewildered by the strange question.
But after answering, he sensed something was off.
Leaning his arms on the handle of the shovel, he asked Di Ying in confusion, “Are you hinting I should go be a county magistrate somewhere?”
Then he saw it: a strange smile stretched across Di Ying’s slightly plump, square face.
A smile whose meaning he could not decipher.
Yao Cong muttered, “...Could you just say what you mean?”
“I could,”
At that, Di Ying straightened his back, stretching and twisting a little. Just as Yao Cong felt his patience was running out,
Di Ying continued, “Have people catch the insects. One isn’t enough—get ten. If ten can’t manage it, get a hundred. Surely, in time, they’ll get rid of them all.
Raising crops isn’t easy; save what you can. Otherwise, what will you eat next year? And if you don’t clear out the pests, nothing you plant anew will thrive.”
At this, Di Ying’s tone shifted, growing lighter as he went on, “You wouldn’t make a suitable county magistrate.
You’re clever, no doubt, but the affairs a county magistrate must handle are too many, too chaotic. You don’t have that sort of patience. Wait a little longer; surely you wouldn’t want to be demoted from fifth-rank to a mere seventh-rank official, would you?”
Now Yao Cong understood.
All this roundabout talk, and he still felt Di Ying wanted to send him into the army.
Very well, Yao Cong smacked his lips.
Military life was simpler, with straightforward relationships—perhaps it truly did suit him better.
Besides, following Di Ying’s lead was never the wrong choice.
In the past, Yao Cong always had to rely on his own wits when faced with difficulties.
But ever since he met Di Ying, he’d felt much more at ease.
It was as if, with a leader at the helm, life suddenly had a purpose; he was no longer fighting alone.
At this moment, Peng Liang—who had been digging all the while—broke into their “riddle game.”

“Sir, I’ve found something.”
Di Ying snapped back to himself at the call. He set down his shovel, squatted, and scraped away a few times, soon exposing a section of bone.
Yao Cong and Peng Liang hurried to help.
Di Ying glanced at their hands, then looked at his own, muttering, “We really ought to have proper gloves for this.”
He had owned autopsy gloves before—his master had taught him to make them, using animal hide tanned until thin and supple.
But Di Ying had never acquired the skill himself.
He could perform the most meticulous tasks in mortuary arts and medicine with flawless precision, but when it came to daily life… he was hopeless.
Hearing him mutter, Yao Cong chimed in, “That’s nothing. I’ll make you a boxful next time.”
“And while you’re at it, craft some other tools—I’ll sketch out the designs for you,”
Di Ying immediately seized on the offer, without a hint of politeness.
There was no need for courtesy; Yao Cong nodded right away, not the least bit reluctant.
For now, though, with no gloves at hand, the three could only clear the bones with their bare hands.
Carefully, they unearthed the remains, then gently wrapped and placed them on the oilcloth Peng Liang had brought, ready to take them back.
By now, dusk was falling.
The winter wind howled through the mountain woods, carrying with it a wailing, mournful sound, as though someone in the heavens and earth was weeping for injustice suffered.

…

Meanwhile, in the imperial bedchamber.
The old emperor picked at his supper, but had little appetite and set down his silver chopsticks.
Staring into the night beyond the palace, he was silent for a time before speaking suddenly, “Little Jianhui didn’t deserve death, did he…”
The tainted rouge hadn’t been deliberate;
Qian Fu hadn’t been entirely wronged, either;
The servants in Wu Jianhui’s household, and some stewards in his shops, had indeed taken lives…
But that was just the result of ignorant servants abusing their power. Wu Jianhui himself had not been involved;
As for the antiques, calligraphy, jewelry, and ornaments stolen from the private treasury… in the end, when he died, those things would return to the Wu family anyway.
The more the old emperor pondered, the more he felt he’d lost his temper too quickly.
Eunuch Su, standing quietly behind, kept his head bowed and made no reply.

His Majesty was wise and decisive, ruthless when needed. But when it came to the Wu family, he could never be impartial. Since his ascension, he had personally ordered the execution of very few from the Wu clan.
Yet: many talents, bold and capable, had been lost because of it.
Wu Jianhui had always been one of His Majesty’s favorites.
Su Hong had long expected that, once the emperor cooled down, he would regret it.
He only feared that yet another worthy man might come to harm.
So he held his tongue, but his heart clenched for Di Ying.
Sure enough, he soon heard His Majesty mention Di Ying.

“There are more than ten thousand people involved in the unsolved cases at the Supreme Court. The moment Di Ying took office, he chose the rouge poisoning case in particular—was that deliberate?
Wu Jianhui’s report of missing property was, in truth, only the loss of some flowers from the conservatory…
Hmm, is it possible that those missing flowers were actually stolen by Di Ying himself?”
The old emperor muttered aloud, and the idea in his mind seemed ever more plausible.
Suddenly, she turned to Su Hong with a touch of fear, “I value my possessions and safety above all. Di Ying has only been in the capital a few days, yet he already knows so much—and uses it against Wu Jianhui? Could it be he’s been watching all along?”
“Your Majesty, you mustn’t overthink,”
Su Hong quietly drew a breath and summoned his courage to advise, “Whatever Lord Di’s intentions, Lord Jianhui’s tribute was indeed faulty.
He did not admit his mistake, but instead took another route, infringing upon your private domain;
And a fair amount of treasure truly was stolen from the private vault, orchestrated by Lord Jianhui and the Grand Steward of the Internal Affairs Bureau.
What’s more, the servants under Lord Jianhui’s roof did commit murder, and Lord Jianhui confessed himself—he knew and took it upon himself to cover up. Your judgment of his poor governance and allowing his underlings to commit crimes was entirely justified.
If I may say so, Lord Di likely had no other choice. His only support is you, but even if he told you everything outright, would Your Majesty have listened?”
“That’s true,”
The old emperor nodded gently and said, “Di Ying, in the end, acted out of duty and public spirit. It’s just… that he went to such lengths to deal with my mother’s kin—I cannot help but resent it.”
Su Hong lowered his gaze to the floor. The reassurance he’d felt a moment before was swept away by this sudden turn.
The anxiety buried deep in his heart once again bubbled to the surface.