Chapter 54: The Truth Revealed

Feng Yewu, who had been deep in thought a moment before, underwent a sudden and dramatic change in his expression upon Li Mo’s confirmation. He immediately shouted for the guards on either side and had the people Lu Jue had already prepared brought forcibly into the grand hall.

It turned out that only last night, after concluding their final discussion, Feng Yewu and Lu Jue had settled on today’s scheme of recommending officials before the assembled court. Lu Jue had even gone so far as to quietly detain all those who might be nominated, having them delivered outside the palace before dawn, ready and waiting.

Li Mo had not anticipated that Feng Yewu would be so decisive, directly ordering Fan Yi to be brought forth. Li Mo’s face turned ashen, sweat pouring down his body like rain.

Feng Yewu strode quickly back to the throne, turned to Li Mo, and let out a cold laugh. Fan Yi was escorted into the hall by the guards. Upon seeing Feng Yewu, he dropped to his knees in panic. With a frosty smile, Feng Yewu regarded the utterly bewildered Fan Yi below and began to question him.

“So, you are Fan Yi?”

Hearing the voice from above, Fan Yi hurriedly kowtowed, his reply tumbling out in a loud voice. “Your humble… your servant… this official… this commoner is indeed Fan Yi.” In his nervousness, Fan Yi floundered, not knowing how to address himself when questioned by Feng Yewu.

Li Mo, witnessing this scene, felt all hope extinguished in his heart.

Seeing the pitiful spectacle Fan Yi made of himself, Feng Yewu only smiled faintly and, affecting nonchalance, offered reassurance. “No need to be alarmed. I summoned you here to grant you an official post.”

Hearing the gentle tone, Fan Yi’s fear eased somewhat. “This commoner… your subject thanks Your Majesty for your gracious favor!” The prospect of an official appointment filled Fan Yi with secret delight—at last, the money he had spent had not been wasted.

“No need to thank me. If you must, thank the Minister of Censors.” Feng Yewu’s face chilled as he looked at Fan Yi, who had taken his words at face value, a note of sarcasm creeping into his voice. Yet Fan Yi, befuddled as he was, failed to notice and prepared eagerly to thank Li Mo.

“Your Majesty, I confess my guilt!” Li Mo didn’t dare remain standing, for the murderous intent in Feng Yewu’s words was unmistakable. As Fan Yi looked on in confusion, Li Mo dropped to his knees and prostrated himself.

“Guilt? The Minister of Censors has the wisdom to recommend such a talent—what guilt could there be?” Feng Yewu sneered, feigning ignorance. Yet before Li Mo could respond, Feng Yewu rose abruptly, his expression severe as he barked, “Attend me! Bring brush and ink for our new top scholar.”

At his command, the guards produced brush and ink, placing them before Fan Yi. Feng Yewu watched the panicked Fan Yi in silence, then spoke in a low voice.

“Fan Yi, since Lord Li has recommended you to the Ministry of Justice, write for me a set of statutes and regulations.”

Feng Yewu’s words struck Fan Yi like a thunderclap. He could not even write his own name, let alone compose legal codes—he had always used a simple mark in place of the ‘Yi’ in his name.

“What’s wrong? Why do you hesitate? Or do you expect me to grind the ink for you?” Seeing Fan Yi frozen in place, Feng Yewu shouted thunderously.

Shattered inside, Fan Yi collapsed to the ground in terror at Feng Yewu’s roar, losing all control of his bowels. A foul stench filled the air.

“Well? Cat got your tongue?” For a long moment, the hall was utterly silent. Feng Yewu’s voice sounded softly again.

“A Minister of Censors, and this is the kind of talent you present to your king? Truly eye-opening.” Feng Yewu, receiving no reply, turned his scorn upon Li Mo once more. “I confess my guilt, Your Majesty. Please punish me.” Li Mo, trembling, choked on his saliva as he begged for punishment.

“Punish you? And how do you think I should do that?” Feng Yewu gave a light laugh, regarding Li Mo with a leisurely air, as if discussing some trivial amusement. Yet, to Li Mo’s ears, every word weighed a thousand pounds. For a moment, he did not know how to answer.

“If you won’t say, I shall tally up the account for you.” Feng Yewu’s tone grew stern as he spoke, glancing at the terror-stricken Fan Yi and reciting Li Mo’s misdeeds one by one, as if reading from a well-memorized list.

When he finished, Feng Yewu turned to the other ministers. Wherever his gaze fell, heads bowed in silence—almost every man seemed to shrink from his scrutiny.

“Minister of Censors, have I overlooked anything?” Feng Yewu withdrew his gaze, fixing it on Li Mo, whose face was now drained of all color. It was the bitterest of mockeries.

Only now did Li Mo fully realize that when he had praised Feng Yewu’s memory, he had not exaggerated its sharpness.

“You have brought calamity upon the state. Take him out and execute him!” Seeing Li Mo could endure no further, Feng Yewu coldly ordered the guards.

Li Mo and the now-unconscious Fan Yi were dragged away under the eyes of the entire court.

“Now, since we are on the subject of the Ministry of Justice—Minister, as head of the department, why don’t you make a recommendation?” Only once Li Mo and Fan Yi had been taken far away did Feng Yewu finally speak again.

Hearing himself addressed, the Minister of Justice, his face full of grievance, was compelled to step forward.

“In my opinion…”

Having witnessed Li Mo’s fate, the Minister of Justice was determined not to follow in his footsteps. The name he had originally prepared to recommend was swallowed down unspoken. Yet all those he normally associated with were corrupt and decadent—he knew of no worthy talents.

After a moment’s thought, a name flashed through his mind. Sun Changxi!

“Your Majesty, I do have someone to recommend.” While the Minister maintained good relations with many courtiers, Sun Changxi had always stood apart, being far too rigid for his liking. In his estimation, Sun Changxi was like a stone in a latrine—both foul and stubborn.

“Oh?” Atop his throne, Feng Yewu absentmindedly flipped through his documents as he questioned the Minister. Hearing him recommend Sun Changxi came as a genuine surprise. Sun Changxi’s name was prominent on Lu Jue’s secondary list, but according to Feng Yewu’s investigations, it seemed unlikely such a talent would be found among the Minister’s usual associates.

“Where is this man?” Feng Yewu’s interest was piqued.

“Your Majesty, I am Sun Changxi.” At the far end of the hall, at the very back of the assembled officials, a man stepped forward, his bearing upright.

Feng Yewu looked at Sun Changxi and found him intriguing. With a blank, solemn expression, eyes fixed straight ahead and voice loud and clear, he showed none of the fear of the sovereign so common among the other ministers.

Feng Yewu smiled, his curiosity growing, and asked, “Sun Changxi, why are you not afraid of me?”

Sun Changxi seemed momentarily surprised by the question and, puzzled, replied, “I know of no crime I have committed. Why should I fear Your Majesty?”

“Hahaha! Well said—‘Why should there be guilt?’” Delighted by this answer, Feng Yewu broke into rare laughter.

He then turned to the other officials and asked, “If none of you are guilty, why do you all fear me so?”

“We confess our guilt, Your Majesty,” came the chorus as the assembled civil and military officials, confronted by Feng Yewu’s overwhelming presence, fell to their knees as one. Only Sun Changxi remained standing in the center, looking about in bewilderment, an especially striking figure amid the sea of bowing heads.