Nightfall

Chapter 52: I Can Still Live as Long as Heaven Tolerates Me

Chapter 52: I Can Still Live as Long as Heaven Tolerates Me

Translator: Transn Editor: Transn

Cui Delu looked at the middle-aged man’s back and coldly said, "I know who backs you. Didn’t you just constantly rely on Chang III or Qi IV, Liu V, Fei VI, Chen VII? I know you can fight, and so do your these brothers. But don’t forget that Chang III and Fei VI are captains of Yulin Royal Guards, Liu V is the leader of Valiant Cavalry Battalion, Chen VII retires from the bodyguard office. You can be easily pushed to the deepest place in Underworld and can never get out if bigwigs ask."

The middle-aged man suddenly turned around, frowning and gazing at him eye to eye.

"Many of your most reliable and best fighting brothers died these years. Apart from useless Qi IV, you can only rely on these guys. However, you don’t understand the power of nobles. They could easily trap these people, on whom you rely, in barracks with several words, orally or literally. In Chang’an, those who have been suppressed by you for ten or more years would gladly come out and ruthlessly take a bite once they get the news. Wouldn’t they?"

The middle-aged man kept silent for a while and then walked out of the room with his facial expression gradually calming down.

Cui DeLu laughed coldly behind him and said, "Old Chao from Spring Breeze Pavilion... Your hands have stretched too far away, already reaching the Imperial Court... Now your enemies are everywhere. I’d like to see who can still tolerate you!"

The middle-aged man kept silent for a while with his right hand on the door and said, "I can still live as long as Heaven tolerates me."

...

...

In a sense, the conversation happened on the top floor of the House of Red-Sleeves determined the historical and natural evolution of the underworld of Chang’an. When those bigwigs in the Imperial Court suddenly got interested in the weeds from the Jianghu world, it would inevitably become grassland after a wildfire. No matter how vigorous those weeds were, or how strong their desire to live was, only scorched black stems and roots buried in the soil were left behind. They could never again regain the past flourish.

That was the smell of power.

Censor Zhang Yiqi’s wife was used to this smell in her whole life. Therefore, she could not accept the fact that Zhang Yiqi had suddenly passed away. She took Zhang’s body back with a whole gang of women soldiers, who had created a disturbance in the brothel, and cried for two days. Then she began rushing between the Dali Temple and the Chang’an Local Government, which took charge of regulating the capital city. However, the smell this time was awful. What a pity!

"How could my lord be so short-lived? 27 years ago, he told me that he once had Master of Nation to do fortune-telling for him, who told him that he certainly would live beyond 100 years. In my opinion, my lord definitely was schemed to death by fox spirits in the brothel! Mayor of Capital, you must support me. If you dare to cover for them, I’ll go to the Prince’s Mansion to beg His Highness to uphold justice for my lord!

The official sitting at the table appeared to be about 40, with triangular eyes and a red bumpy nose. A sparse and net-like beard hung on his jaw. His appearance was simply inelegant. It was amazing that the man was not dispatched to other counties or prefectures of lower levels, but left in Chang’an Local Government as Tang’s officials needed to pay attention to their appearances.

He looked at the skinny woman standing in the hall below, worrying about how to deal with the case. Luckily, all Tang’s officials knew the legendary life of Master of Nation. He realized that the former Master of Nation was just a firing boy in the South School of Haotian Taoism 27 years ago and hadn’t met His Majesty yet after careful calculation. He told Zhang Yiqi his fortune for money and it might just be a trick. Realizing this, he said seriously after a slight fit of coughing.

"Ahem... Madam, please restrain your grief. First of all, you must understand that I’m Shangguan Yangyu, the Judicial Military Supervisor of the Chang’an Local Government, not the Mayor of Capital. Secondly, we have carefully checked the censor’s remain. He did die of the unexpected collapse of the carriage and his brain was severely hit. It simply isn’t a murder case.

The death of Censor Zhang Yiqi at the side door of the brothel was widely discussed in Chang’an, but most of these discussions were irony. Furthermore, none connected this case with an assassination in officialdom. Chang’an Local Government had already determined the case to be an accident two days ago in order to prevent those poor censors making troubles with this case.

But none had expected that the censor’s wife would directly complain to the Dali Temple. The censor’s job was to offend officials. Therefore, Zhang Yiqi was not popular. Even though he was already dead, nobody could touch him as the prince was still present. However, none wanted to interfere too much. Consequently, Dali Temple, without the slightest politeness, once again pushed her back to Chang’an Local Government.

The Mayor of Capital slipped back to his backyard after hearing the knocks and being told it was the naughty Censor’s wife. He asked his subordinates to tell her that he was not feeling well today and needed a rest.

As the Judicial Military Supervisor of the Chang’an Local Government, Shangguan Yangyu was in charge of investigations. But he couldn’t find an excuse to run away and he didn’t want to. In his eyes, all the naughty censor’s wives were paper tigers. As long as he frightened them with something they feared, he could handle the situation and perhaps even get some benefits from them.

It could be judged that he was a greedy man as he was still trying to get some benefits under such circumstances. His greed could be owing to his family background. His ancestors came from South Jin Kingdom and then moved to Chang’an. Then the following five generations of this family settled in the poor Eastern Area. However, and no men in this family were successful. They either love gambling or lust for women. All the five generations of the family had accumulated were two broken rooms and a dozen ounces of silver. Shangguan Yangyu was the first in this family to pass the exam and become an official formally. He started from the lowest prison officials and gradually got promotions.

Shangguan Yangyu was no longer as cautious as he used to be after he was promoted to become the Judicial Military Supervisor. His fear of poverty and the crazy pursuit of money pushed him to take bribes. Chang’an Local Government, a poor local government counting on incurring taxes, was closely observed by the whole imperial court. Although he couldn’t practice grafts, he definitely could corrupt the law.

As to the case of Censor Zhang Yiqi, he didn’t dare to wrongly accuse the brothel, but he wanted to get some money from the dead’s wife. He squinted and sized the skinny woman up. He waved his hands to beckon her to come up before she got angry, and whispered, "Madam, your own accompanying escort witnessed the whole process, and we still have material evidence in our backyard. Besides, we can tell the smell of cosmetics from the body of Cencor Zhang Yiqi. And many people in the city saw you go to the brothel with a stick in your hands with your sisters the other day. Think about it... He was definitely trying to escape from being caught by you and knocked into his own carriage in a hurry."

The censor’s wife suddenly turned hostile. Just when she was about to harshly scold him, Shangguan Yangyu smiled with his triangular eyes squinting into squares inside copper coins. He continued to whisper, "I did understand that Censor Zhang Yiqi died too bizarrely and too stupidly, and... it was humiliating. You should make complaints to make yourself clear and avoid being talked about by others as the chief culprit of his death. In addition, the brothel will pay for your loss. A dead man can no longer take care of you and the comforts and compensates given by the imperial court can do little help. It’s a better choice to get a sum of money of course."

A very unnatural expression appeared on her face as Shangguan Yangyu said what she was thinking about. She kept silent for a while and then suddenly whispered with expectations, "If it works out, I’ll share with you... 20%."

Trading with the law of Tang in the court hall could definitely lead them to die, if it was known by the Department of Provincial Censor or the Imperial Court. However, she needn’t worry about it as none was there. All people in Chang’an Local Government left to escape from her, except Shangguan Yangyu.

Nevertheless, to her surprise, Shangguan Yangyu suddenly got angry. He clapped the desk with the gavel in his hands and shouted sternly, "How dare you! I gave you some respects as you’re the wife of Censor Zhang Yiqi. But you want to die!"

The censor’s wife was scared still. Shangguan Yangyu’s face, which seemed to be painted on, suddenly turned amiable again. He said earnestly, "I’m trying to save you. Do you know who the supporter of that brothel is? You truly have great guts if you want to blackmail them."

The censor’s wife leaned against the counter top, shaking, and said, "Please tell me about, about it."

Of course, Shangguan Yangyu couldn’t tell her that Chang’an Local Government possessed a portion of shares of the brothel. Purposely, he pointed his finger to the sky mysteriously and whispered, "It belongs to Her Majesty."

"What?" The censor’s wife became panic as she heard "Her Majesty". She was too frightened to stand on her feet. She repeated in a shaking voice. "What should I do? What should I do?"

"If you keep on finding fault with the brothel, I can’t guarantee for the deceased censor’s reputation. After all, someone saw him run out of the brothel and he was drunk at the time."

Shangguan Yangyu looked at her sternly and said, "The censor was visiting a prostitute. If it’s known by the Imperial Court, he might be removed from his official position, even though he’s dead. Then you couldn’t get any subsidies or compensates. All of your efforts would be in vain."

The censor’s wife asked, full of fear, "Then, then... What should I do? What if I gave up accusing?"

"The problem is that your action has already been spread out. However, if you can settle with the owner of the brothel and stop the information from being further broadcast to the palace, especially Her Majesty, perhaps everything will work out."

"Then let’s do it!" The censor’s wife had already run out of ideas. She asked with her shriveled face full of confusion and nervousness, "How do you think I should settle with the owner?"

Shangguan Yangyu smiled. Knowing that he would get a sum of money right away, he couldn’t help but feel every pore on his body relax and open. The shriveled face of the censor’s wife in front of him seemed to become more adorable. He thought to himself in alt, " It’s better to take money from women than men, from dead people than men alive ."

He was born to a poor family, in fact, a humble family. His ancestors didn’t leave any assets to him and he had nobody to rely on. He looked ugly, greedily raking in interests from plaintiffs and defendants like a locust and brazenly bootlicking his superiors as a wild boar. He had nothing respectable with regard to morality and personality. However, as long as Haotian didn’t punish him, he would continue to live like this, faithfully and uglily. As an old saying went, "I can still live as long as Heaven tolerates me."

...

...

The spring rain fell consecutively for another two days. The businesses in Lin 47th Street did not improve.

Ning Que didn’t know that Shangguan Yangyu, a Judicial Military supervisor in Chang’an Local Government, had dealt with the remaining little trouble caused by his assassination of Censor Zhang Yiqi out of his greed. At the moment, Ning Que was holding a small hot bowl of noodles and staring at the limestone in the rain, thinking about the coming academy entry exam(s) and the expensive tuition and accommodation fees. He was a little depressed and felt cold. He subconsciously used his left hand to tighten his collar.

Although the mysterious big owner had reduced his rent for a whole year, which was equivalent to 300 taels of silver, it couldn’t be used as real money. It was just something on paper. If the government forced the big owner to collect rent or the Old Brush Pen Shop had no business, it was just as useless.

He couldn’t help sighing when he thought of that. He lowered his head and played with noodles and green onions in the bowl with his chopsticks. He didn’t want to eat at all. He even didn’t want to write in these two days, let alone eat this bowl of noodles, which he had been eating for several years. He knew that there were four peppercorns and 30 little bits of green onions in the bowl of noodles, without having to look.

The rain outside the shop was getting heavier and heavier, patting the ground with strong sounds. The water splashed in all directions and turned into the frog, affecting people’s sights. Ning Que could barely see the wall of the warehouse belonging to the Logistics Department of the Ministry of Revenue. He carried the bowl to the doorstep, squatting down, and continued to watch the rain. Then he began to eat.

Suddenly he lifted his head, looking towards the right side.

A middle-aged man, carrying an oilpaper umbrella, presented outside the Old Brush Pen Shop door. The wild rain had soaked more than half of his turquoise robe and the sword sheath around his waist. It was the big owner.

The front layer of the chest part and coattail turning darker and a little miserable, amazingly, the middle-aged man didn’t appear to be miserable at all. He stood at the door calmly, holding his oilpaper umbrella, and observed the rain, like he was admiring a street packed with peach blossoms in the sunshine.

Ning Que looked up towards the man for a while. He didn’t speak, continuing to eat noodles.

After a long period of silence, the middle-aged man suddenly lowered his head to look at Ning Que and said with a smile, "It must taste good."

Ning Que squatted down on the ground and answered, "I have eaten this too many times. It just tastes the same."

"I haven’t eaten that before."

"I’m not going to treat you even though you waived my rent for a year."

"I like your calligraphy."

The middle-aged man quickly changed the topic of their conservation, just like the raindrops in front of them, which rolled off the surface of the umbrella before it could seep through it. It could be judged that the man was used to issuing orders, and didn’t allow his subordinates to question his commands.

"Me, too."

"Good job."

"I know."

The middle-aged man smiled and said, "It’s really rare to see calligraphy with such... murderous-intent."

Ning Que bowed his head in silence. He looked at the bowl in his hands and asked, "Are you going to kill someone tonight?"

The middle-aged man lamentingly answered, "Yes. As Heaven can tolerate me while the man can’t, I have to kill him."

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