Chapter 89: Utterly Bizarre

Magistrate Chang, seated at the high bench, narrowed his eyes sharply. Stroking his mustache, he said in a low voice, “Fang Shaotang, Qian Jiang, this official hereby judges you two for falsifying confessions, treating human lives like weeds, flouting the law, failing to report known crimes, and scheming to frame the innocent. Do you two admit it or not?”

As she listened to the charges laid out by Magistrate Chang, Wu Wei’s eyelids twitched. Some guesses began to form in her mind. Dongfang Rui had already given her the inside story. Whether it was Gao Ningxue suddenly appearing in the Charity Mortuary of Qinglu County or the Forbidden Army corpses showing up there too, it all pointed straight to another major case—the theft of the auspicious tribute!

One of them was the magistrate of neighboring Clear River County, the other his advisor. With this string of charges, the case… seemed to come into focus.

Wu Wei couldn’t help glancing toward Dongfang Rui. The other woman looked perfectly composed, her gaze straight ahead without a flicker. Wu Wei knew Dongfang Rui had noticed her look but simply chose not to return it.

Wu Wei shifted her gaze to the suspects kneeling below in the hall. They were all dressed in identical rags, their hair disheveled and faces filthy. She really couldn’t tell which two Magistrate Chang was singling out.

After a long silence, an elderly voice rang out. “This official is wronged!”

Another voice followed, weaker and younger. “This official is wronged!”

A faint scoff flickered in Wu Wei’s eyes. Still trying to argue at this point?

Magistrate Chang remained calm. He rifled through the stack of dossiers and testimonies on the table for a moment before pulling out a sheaf and holding it up. “This year, on the eighth day of the third month, the Clear River County Yamen arrested a local father and son. The charge was… habitual theft. True or not?”

Fang Shaotang and the advisor fell silent for a moment. This time, Fang Shaotang answered, “True.”

“And what was the sentence?”

“…Habitual theft. The Clear River County area had seen a rash of thefts in the preceding year. Upon investigation, this official discovered the methods matched cases from years ago. Digging through old dossiers, this official traced it to a skilled thief from long before. Following that lead revealed his line had died out, but it turned up this father and son who had cared for the man in his old age. This official inferred the thief might have passed on his techniques to them. He immediately dispatched runners to investigate and found stolen goods in a cellar at their home. When the victims were summoned, the items matched. An arrest warrant was issued, and the pair were taken into custody. Faced with irrefutable evidence, they confessed on the spot. The subsequent sentence followed the laws of the dynasty. The father was elderly and couldn’t withstand the flogging; he died en route to exile. The son assaulted the guards in an escape attempt and plunged off a cliff in his panic. Their signed confessions remain on file in the dossier room. Afterward, out of the kindness of this official’s heart, he even made an exception to grant relief funds to the widow. The crimes Your Excellency describes—this official would never dare commit them. This is pure slander. Please see the truth, Your Excellency.”

Magistrate Chang let out a cold snort. “Slander? Do you know who sent you into the Heavenly Prison?”

“…Yes. Members of the Bright Mirror Division.”

“And do you know who this is?” With that, Magistrate Chang gestured toward Dongfang Rui.

Fang Shaotang did not raise his head. In a low voice, he replied, “Bright Mirror Division Chief, Lord Dongfang.”

Stroking his mustache, Magistrate Chang rebuked him. “The Bright Mirror Division stands equal to the Six Ministries, an agency handpicked by imperial decree to handle cases. Lord Dongfang holds a rank of third-grade. Would she travel thousands of li from the Capital just to slander the likes of you?!”

A dead silence fell over the hall. Everyone kneeling there knew of Dongfang Rui—the one hailed as “Seeing Through Like Fire, Enforcing Like Mountain.” Not a soul dared to challenge her.

Fang Shaotang jutted out his neck stubbornly. He said nothing, but he refused to admit guilt.

After a moment’s thought, Wu Wei understood. The worst of Magistrate Chang’s charges so far amounted to no more than beheading. But if he confessed… Magistrate Chang would undoubtedly dig deeper into Fang Shaotang and the others’ motives. If it came out that they had deliberately muddied the waters and erased clues to the auspicious tribute theft, one misstep could mean extermination of three clans, or even nine. The county’s great families might suffer alongside them. That would be true doom without reprieve. Fang Shaotang was no fool.

Magistrate Chang showed no anger. He produced two scrolls and several sheets of paper in turn. “Here are details on that father and son—their three generations of ancestry, native place, occupation, and landholdings. A family of five, with five mu of dry fields and two mu of good paddy. More than enough to sustain themselves. Though a habitual thief appeared in their line three generations back, he wasn’t a direct ancestor to this pair. Their parents and grandparents were all honest, reliable farmers. This scroll contains testimonies from fifty-two households in their village. The father and son are praised highly—honest and dutiful, hardworking folk with harmonious homes and neighborly bonds. As for your claim that they once cared for that thief, yes, it’s true—but merely the filial duty of juniors.” With a sweep of his wide sleeve, Magistrate Chang unfurled one scroll. It unrolled across the bench and onto the floor, stopping right before Fang Shaotang.

Wu Wei narrowed her eyes to examine it. The scroll recorded testimonies from those fifty-two village households. Some were penned by the farmers themselves, others by proxies. But every one bore a handprint at the bottom, clearly noting who stated it, when and where, who transcribed, who questioned, and the witness’s exact address. So meticulous and thorough—an immense undertaking, yet ironclad under scrutiny. No need to guess whose handiwork it was.

At the sight, Fang Shaotang’s face drained of color. He knew today spelled his doom. He remained silent as Magistrate Chang lifted several sheets of stamped Xuan paper. “These are testimonies from clerks at the market grain shops. Over the past five years, that father and son sold surplus grain there every autumn after harvest. As for the so-called ‘habitual thief’ cases you cited, several occurred when this pair had alibis—backed by fellow villagers’ words and eyewitness accounts from neighboring homes.”

“And… Lord Dongfang has already sent men to investigate. The convoy to Lake Province held only this father and son as prisoners! You claim all your judgments followed the law. By the statutes of this dynasty, exile convoys must number no fewer than fifteen. If short, they are to be held at the prefectural seat until full. How then did this pair merit such special treatment, met with mishaps not a hundred li from the city gates? You clearly silenced them to cover your tracks!”

Crack! The gavel slammed down. Fang Shaotang and Advisor Qian both shuddered violently.

“Since you refuse to confess, this official has no patience for your sophistry. The evidence is ironclad—you have no choice now! Bailiffs!”

“Here!”

“Former Clear River County Magistrate Fang Shaotang and Qian Jiang—for falsifying confessions, murder, flouting the law, and refusal to confess, an added count! This official sentences you to stripping of office and honors. Escort them to the prefectural jail pending report to the Ministry of Justice for review. Behead at autumn assizes! As for the rest of the implicated Clear River Yamen runners and constables, sentence from lesser guilt: stripped of posts, eighty strokes of the rod, exile to Youzhou!”

“Mercy, Your Excellency! We’re wronged!”

“Your Excellency, this lowly one knows his error! It was all Magistrate Fang and the advisor—they forced us!”

“Your Excellency, we were just following orders!”

With the verdict delivered, wails filled the hall.

Magistrate Chang remained unmoved. Dongfang Rui lifted her teacup and took a leisurely sip. From the pot, Magistrate Chang drew a command tallie and tossed it to the floor with a sharp clack. The bailiffs surged forward en masse, hauling the prisoners out to the courtyard. There, fresh shackles were clapped on before handing them off to the waiting attendants outside.

Once they were gone, the public hall felt instantly more spacious. This time, Wu Wei spotted them clearly. Kneeling at the front was former Qinglu County Magistrate Zhang Kuan, with runners Li Liu and Zhang Xing behind him, along with Clerk Hu and a few other bailiffs she didn’t know.

Perhaps parched from speaking, Magistrate Chang lifted his teacup for a sip. Setting it down, he slammed the bench. “Zhang Kuan—do you acknowledge your crimes?”

Zhang Kuan smashed his forehead to the floor, confessing tearfully and profusely. But… as Wu Wei listened, her brows furrowed tighter and tighter.

Zhang Kuan laid every crime at the feet of the advisor who had already hanged himself, admitting only his own failure of oversight.

Wu Wei’s brows knit in a tight line. From the moment the case broke, she had sensed this magistrate’s cunning—even when trying to bribe her, he had stayed hidden behind his advisor.

Unlike Fang Shaotang, Zhang Kuan had no blood on his hands. His attempt to kill her had failed anyway. With the advisor dead, no witness remained. Even if evidence surfaced, Zhang Kuan faced at best an “attempted” charge. Did the laws of the Liang Dynasty even punish attempts?

Wu Wei’s heart pounded. In sudden horror, she realized: Magistrate Chang, Fang Shaotang, Advisor Qian, Zhang Kuan—they all acted as if by prior agreement. Not one confession mentioned the twenty lives escorting the auspicious tribute, those seven mounds of graves! Nor the theft of the tribute itself.

Everything stemmed from that theft… yet no one breathed a word of it!

Even Dongfang Rui… None of her investigations touched on the auspicious tribute theft.

Could it be…?

Wu Wei’s suspicion flared, only for her to snuff it out herself.

Wu Wei trusted Dongfang Rui. Back then, she had disguised herself as a beggar solely to gather evidence for the Snake Demon Case. The meticulous proof she uncovered against Fang Shaotang had surely cost her untold hardship—all to ensure that not even one innocent person was wronged.

Moreover, despite holding the rank of a third-grade official, she hadn’t overstepped her bounds by even a single step. Instead, she had invited Magistrate Chang to preside over the trial. After all, the Bright Mirror Division was an agency from the Capital, and it wasn’t proper for them to meddle in local judgments.

But why was that? No one mentioned the case of the stolen auspicious omen. No one brought up the lawsuit over those seven lives—as if such events had never taken place at all.

Wu Wei turned her head for a glance. Through the main gates and across the courtyard outside the audience hall, she spotted the dense throng of commoners gathered at the yamen entrance. Could it be…?

Was it simply because this case involved the imperial family—and this particular court session was being held publicly—making it inconvenient to speak of openly?

In that light, it was hardly incomprehensible.

Yet there was one thing Wu Wei simply couldn’t wrap her mind around. Fang Shaotang and Advisor Qian might have their deeper reasons for uttering not a word about it. But why was Zhang Kuan—who had pinned all the blame on the late advisor—acting the same way?

And what of the constables, bailiffs, and patrols standing below? Where on earth had they acquired such keen political instincts?

A chill rose from the soles of Wu Wei’s feet, surging through her entire body.

All these lost lives, grave errors, and tangled schemes had stemmed from that auspicious omen theft. Yet not a soul involved so much as breathed a word of it—as if they’d all colluded in advance, or as if their mouths had been sealed in unison.

Wu Wei gazed at the impassive Dongfang Rui, a sensation creeping over her that an invisible great net had the entire yamen firmly in its grasp.