Above the field ridge, Pei Ji slowly stood up.
The mud on his knees, mixed with grass clippings, clung to his official robes, making him look utterly wretched. Yet his face, usually cold and hard as iron, now smudged with black soil, bore a solemnity stripped of all worldly pretense. It was an expression one only wore after a soul-cleansing pilgrimage.
He had lost.
Lost with complete and utter conviction.
Just then, at the other end of the ridge, the golden waves of rice were parted.
A young nobleman, dressed in dark casual attire and exuding an air of supreme elegance and nobility, walked slowly along the packed mud path. Behind him, Song Yubai was pointing at things with a radiant face, looking exactly like a child eager to show off a treasure.
The newcomer's steps were steady. His gaze swept over the boundless sea of golden rice, his expression as calm as still water. Faced with this bountiful harvest, a sight capable of shaking the entire court and rewriting the destiny of the nation, he did not show the slightest hint of surprise. Everything was entirely within his grasp.
It was none other than the Third Prince, Xiao Jingyan.
"Your... Your Highness..."
Wang Sheng, also known as Mr. Wang, who was still kneeling on the ground, was entirely immersed in the immense shock of a yield of four shi and three dou per mu. His mind was buzzing. However, seeing Song Yubai ushering in a distinguished guest, his long-ingrained bureaucratic habits made him subconsciously want to put on airs.
He did not know Xiao Jingyan's true identity, assuming him to be merely some wealthy merchant's son from the capital who had been thoroughly duped by Song Yubai.
In order to claw back some of the dignity he had just lost while weeping bitterly in front of Pei Ji, whom he deemed a poor, sour scholar, Wang Sheng scrambled to pick up his mud-caked folding fan from the dirt. Without even bothering to wipe it clean, he snapped it open with a loud thwack and walked forward, pretending to be profound and sophisticated.
He wanted to strike the pose of an experienced elder who knew the ropes.
Wang Sheng cleared his throat, blocked the path of Xiao Jingyan and Song Yubai, cupped his hands in greeting toward Xiao Jingyan, and smiled:
"I suppose you, too, were drawn here by this auspicious omen, my good sir? Though untalented, I happen to know a thing or two about agriculture and mulberry cultivation."
He waved his filthy folding fan, looking as though he were an expert directing the affairs of the world.
"While this rice is indeed excellent, without the imperial court's strategic planning, I am afraid it would hardly amount to anything! After all, commoners are just commoners. Without the government's coordination, they are nothing but a tray of loose sand."
As he spoke, he deliberately turned his head, wanting to drag the mud-spattered Pei Ji into the conversation to bolster his own prestige.
"Brother Pei, would you not agree? We scholars must have a broader vision when looking at things. We must see the court's merit behind this auspicious sign!"
Pei Ji slowly lifted his eyelids.
He cast a cold glance at Wang Sheng, his eyes filled with the pity one might reserve for a chill autumn cicada, chirping desperately, oblivious to its impending doom.
He did not say a single word.
The disdain and pity in that gaze were far more wounding than any verbal abuse.
Song Yubai was brimming with excitement, eager to introduce this great miracle of a four-shi yield to His Highness. Being suddenly blocked and lectured by a mud-spattered, sour-smelling middle-aged man caused him to instantly furrow his brows.
He initially wanted to scold the man.
But when he clearly saw the poor scholar standing behind the middle-aged man, similarly covered in black mud and looking thoroughly wretched, his breath caught in his throat.
That face...
That face he would recognize even if it were turned to ashes!
Song Yubai completely ignored Wang Sheng, who was still blabbering on about vision, and with a flash of movement, brushed swiftly past him!
The sudden gust of wind from his passing made Wang Sheng stumble and spin half a circle in place, nearly sending the folding fan flying from his hand.
Song Yubai did not spare him a single glance, rushing straight up to Pei Ji.
He was so agitated that he became incoherent. He wanted to bow and perform a formal greeting, but was afraid of getting mud on his clean clothes, and even more terrified of offending this fierce deity. Flustered and unsure of what to do, he could only stammer:
"Vice Minister Pei?! Why... why are you here? And... and looking like this? Is... is this an incognito investigation to experience the lives of the common people?"
The title Vice Minister Pei poured into Wang Sheng's ears, turning his mind completely blank and halting all his movements.
With a splat, the folding fan in Wang Sheng's hand fell back into the mud.
Every muscle in his body tensed. His neck emitted the creaking sound of grinding joints as he turned his head, inch by inch, with excruciating difficulty.
His gaze was firmly nailed to the poor scholar whom he had just mocked for lacking worldly experience, whom he had dragged into a bet, and whom he had treated as a mere foil.
Vice Minister of the Supreme Court?
That legendary figure who was impervious to bribery, impartially iron-faced, and specialized in skinning and tearing the tendons out of powerful nobles, the Living Yama... Pei Ji?!
What... what had he been doing all along the way?
Acting like a superior senior in front of the Lord of the Underworld?
Dragging the Lord of the Underworld into a bet with him?
Even lecturing the Lord of the Underworld on how to do things, telling him to have vision?!
Wang Sheng's world spun wildly. A surge of icy air shot straight from his tailbone to the crown of his head, chilling the blood in his veins completely in an instant.
Pei Ji slowly patted the mud spots on his cuffs.
His movements were unhurried and entirely devoid of worldly agitation, yet they exuded the oppressive aura of someone who had long held high authority and held the power of life and death in his hands.
He did not even look directly at the ashen-faced Wang Sheng. Merely sweeping over him lightly from the corner of his eye, his flat tone carried not a trace of warmth, simply stating an insignificant fact.
"Inspector Wang, my vision is indeed not as grand as yours."
Wang Sheng's mind buzzed and went completely blank.
The other party knew everything clearly, from his alias to his official title!
His knees gave out, unable to support his weight any longer. With a heavy thud, he dropped straight to his knees into the muddy water!
The freezing mud soaked through his trouser legs, but he felt no cold; he only felt the cold sweat on his back completely drenching his undergarments.
He opened his mouth, wanting to defend himself, wanting to beg for mercy, but his throat burned and felt tightly blocked. He could not force out a single word.
It was over.
He was dead for sure this time.
However, Pei Ji lacked the interest to even spare him another glance.
In the eyes of this Living Yama, the life or death of the ant beneath his feet was no longer of any importance.
He turned around to face the dark-clothed young nobleman, who had stood with his hands clasped behind his back and a detached expression from the very beginning.
Under the utterly terrified gazes of Song Yubai and Wang Sheng, Pei Ji, the tough bone who never bowed his head to any powerful noble in the Great Qian imperial court, unexpectedly and respectfully straightened his mud-covered clothes and hat.
Then, facing Xiao Jingyan, he performed an exceptionally standard, flawless bow of a subordinate official.
He did not kneel; after all, they were outside the palace, and it was necessary to avoid drawing unwanted attention.
But the angle of his bow was deeper than if he were greeting the Chief Minister of the Cabinet, and more reverent than if he were greeting his own father!
Xiao Jingyan did not immediately tell him to rise.
The Third Prince reached out, casually snapped off a heavy ear of rice nearby, and gently rubbed it in his palm.
He looked at the golden, plump grains, his voice low, yet it reached everyone's ears with absolute clarity.
"Minister Pei, look at this ear of rice."
"It bows so low. Does it not perfectly resemble the permanently bent backs of our Great Qian commoners?"
He paused, his gaze focusing. As his eyes fell upon him, Pei Ji felt a wave of invisible pressure.
"But as long as its roots strike deep, firmly anchored in the earth, then no matter how low it bends, it remains the unbending backbone of our Great Qian!"
Pei Ji's body went rigid!
He lifted his head. Within those eyes that typically held nothing but the cold, unyielding strictness of the law, a faint, bloodshot redness had now emerged.
He offered another deep bow, his voice hoarse, yet every single word rang with absolute conviction.
"Your student... accepts your teachings!"
Kneeling off to the side, Wang Sheng wished for nothing more at this moment than to bury his entire head into the mud beneath his feet.
He finally realized that the lord standing before him, the man capable of making the Living Yama, Pei Ji, refer to himself as a mere student, was an almighty figure a hundred times more terrifying than Yama himself.
He was an Imperial Prince!
How was this Taoyuan County merely a hub for common merchants?
This was clearly a dragon's lair and a tiger's den!
......
Half a month later, just as the populace of Taoyuan County was busy wrapping up the autumn harvest.
In the distance, billowing clouds of yellow dust kicked up along the official road leading into the county town!
A detachment of Royal Guards, riding spirited steeds in their vibrant uniforms and gleaming armor, violently parted the crowd of onlookers with an undeniable force, charging straight toward this very rice paddy!
Immediately after, before anyone could even react.
A shrill, high-pitched, and piercingly sharp voice shattered the tranquility of the fields, startling a flock of resting birds into the sky!
"The Imperial Decree arrives!!!"
