Why Does Mr. Xie Favor Me? Chapter 12
byChapter 12: Softness Overcomes Hardness
It will get even colder.
The sky at the hour of the tiger was still as dark as ink, and snowflakes swirled within the halo of the lanterns hanging from the eaves. As Xie Heng fastened the jade belt of his court robes, his fingertips brushed against the icy gold buckle, causing him to pause slightly.
The man in the mirror was thinner than he had been three months ago. The light reflecting off the snow filtered through the window paper and onto his face, making him appear as white as Xuan paper, which only served to make his eyes and brows look darker and deeper.
Vice President. Xiao Jue waited outside the door and handed him a marten-fur cloak. Snow has accumulated on the road.
The collar of the cloak was lined with deep gray fur. As Xie Heng took it, he brushed against the frostbite scars on the back of Xiao Jue’s hand. On the youth’s rough skin, they looked like plum sepals cracked by the frost during a snowfall—faint, yet striking.
There is no need to accompany me into the palace today, Xie Heng said as he tied the cloak’s silk cords. Go to the Imperial Medical Bureau and get some frostbite ointment. You should take better care of those scars on your hands.
Xiao Jue froze for a moment before lowering his head. Yes.
A narrow path had already been cleared through the snow on the palace roads, with snow piled knee-high on either side.
Wang Chun’s red sandalwood official sedan arrived early, the boots of the carriers crunching loudly against the packed snow. As he stepped out of the sedan, he happened to see Xie Heng descending from a plain green-canopied carriage. Dressed in simple robes and his marten cloak, Xie Heng carried no umbrella, allowing fine snow to settle upon his shoulders.
It has been a long time, Vice President Xie. Wang Chun cupped his hands in greeting, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. The winter is harsh and the snow is heavy. Since you have just recovered from your illness, you should dress more warmly.
I am grateful for Vice President Wang’s concern, Xie Heng returned the gesture. The white mist of his breath vanished instantly in the freezing wind. For the past three months, you have managed the affairs of the Department of State Affairs in my stead. Your hard work and great merit are appreciated. I have returned today specifically to listen to your guidance.
His words were respectful and his posture humble. Wang Chun studied the man before him; Xie Heng’s face was even paler than it had been before his house arrest, and even his lips had lost their color. Only his eyes remained as clear and bright as ever.
His guard lowering slightly, Wang Chun made a polite gesture of invitation. After you.
The fires in the braziers of Taiji Hall burned brightly, the warmth making one feel drowsy.
As the officials lined up, Xie Heng stood at the very end of the civil official ranks.
The position of the Left Vice President, which had been vacant for three months, was now occupied by Wang Chun. Many secret glances were cast toward Xie Heng, but he merely kept his eyes lowered and did not respond.
Has Minister Xie’s health fully recovered? the Emperor’s voice drifted down from the vermilion dais.
Xie Heng stepped forward. Melted snow dripped from the hem of his cloak onto the golden floor tiles, leaving dark water stains. Thanks to Your Majesty’s great fortune, I am no longer in any danger. He bowed, his voice not loud, yet it caused the entire hall to fall silent for a moment. This subject requests Your Majesty’s permission to resign from the post of Left Vice President of the Department of State Affairs.
As soon as he finished speaking, even the rustling sound of snow falling on the palace eaves seemed to stop.
Wang Chun turned his head sharply, his face filled with disbelief.
The Emperor was also surprised to hear this and leaned forward slightly. Oh?
During my period of reflection behind closed doors, I reread the historical records and felt deeply that governing is like treading on thin ice, Xie Heng said, maintaining his bow as melted snow slid down from his temples. The matter of Danyang occurred because I was young and impetuous, failing to perceive the realities of the world. Now that Vice President Wang has managed the department’s affairs for three months and handled everything appropriately, it is clear that prudence is the correct path.
He took a scroll from his sleeve and held it up with both hands. I request to be reassigned as the Commissioner of Records in the Department of State Affairs, specifically to oversee the compilation of the Yongyuan Compendium and to organize the statutes of the previous dynasty. Firstly, this will compensate for my lack of knowledge, and secondly, it will allow me to quietly reflect on my past mistakes.
The memorial was presented by an internal attendant. The Emperor unfurled it and read for a moment, his gaze complex when he looked up. Does Minister Xie intend to follow the example of Ban Gu and dedicate himself to writing?
I would not dare compare myself to the sages of old, Xie Heng lowered his head, revealing a section of his pale neck. I only wish to contribute my meager efforts.
Silence spread through the hall, broken only by a single spark popping in a charcoal brazier.
Granted. The Emperor closed the memorial. From this day forward, Xie Heng is reassigned as the Commissioner of Records, with his salary and rank remaining unchanged. As for the position of Left Vice President… He looked toward Wang Chun. Minister Wang has served as the acting deputy for three months with great diligence. You shall take the post permanently.
Wang Chun hurried forward to give thanks, but his eyes flickered toward Xie Heng. The man remained standing in a bow, the unthawed snow on his shoulders slowly soaking into his court robes.
The snow fell even more heavily when the court session ended.
Wang Chun deliberately slowed his pace, waiting for Xie Heng to exit the hall so they could walk side by side. The accumulated snow swallowed the sound of their footsteps, and their breath condensed into white mist in the cold air.
What are… Commissioner Xie’s plans for the future? Wang Chun asked casually, though his gaze was locked onto the side of Xie Heng’s face.
Plans? Xie Heng reached out to catch a snowflake, watching it melt in his palm. I will go to the Lantai first. I have heard that the water transport ledgers from the Yonghe era are well-preserved; they would be perfect to include in the Compendium.
He answered frankly, but Wang Chun’s heart tightened. The water transport of the Yonghe era was exactly when the Wang family began to seize control of the lifeblood of the Jianghuai region.
Those old accounts have been gathering dust for many years. I am afraid it will take quite some effort, Wang Chun said testingly.
It is no matter, Xie Heng paused before the palace gates, looking out at the sky filled with flying snow. What I lack least right now is time.
The green-canopied carriage arrived. Before boarding, he turned and gave a bow. It is cold. Vice President Wang should return to his manor early as well.
The carriage rolled away over the snow. Wang Chun stood where he was, watching the tracks being quickly covered by fresh snow. He whispered to a confidant, Send people to keep a close watch on the Lantai. Every page he flips, every word he transcribes—not a single detail is to go unreported.
Deep within the Lantai, it was bone-chillingly cold.
They only dared to burn charcoal braziers near the entrance for fear that sparks might land on the ancient texts. Xie Heng sat at the desk in the innermost room, his breath turning to frost and his fingertips turning red from the cold. He read the ledgers very slowly, occasionally picking up a pen to record something—not to transcribe, but to calculate.
When Xiao Jue came looking for him in the afternoon, he saw Xie Heng’s swollen fingertips and hurriedly took off his own sheepskin gloves to offer them. Warm your hands.
No need. Xie Heng did not look up. Come look at this.
He pointed to a specific page in the general ledger for water transport from the seventeenth year of the Yonghe era. This year, Jianghuai reported a loss of forty thousand dan of grain. However, the natural disasters and man-made calamities reported by each province only account for eight thousand dan. He tapped the numbers with the tip of his brush. The remaining thirty-two thousand dan vanished into thin air.
Xiao Jue leaned over to look closely. Could it be a false report…
Even a false report must have a record. Xie Heng flipped to the files of the Bureau of Provisions. The silver allocated to purchase replacements for that year’s losses was disbursed in full for forty thousand dan.
He leaned back against his chair and closed his eyes, pressing his brow. One batch of grain was reported as a loss to be embezzled, while silver was simultaneously collected to buy it again. They ate the same fish twice.
The light from the snow outside reflected off the ledger pages. Those old ink marks looked like dormant poisonous wasps.
Should we investigate?
No rush. Xie Heng opened his eyes, which were bloodshot. We have only reached the seventeenth year of Yonghe. There are more than ten years following it.
He took a small oil-paper packet from his sleeve and broke off two pieces of hard malt candy. He gave one piece to Xiao Jue and put the other in his own mouth, the sweetness melting extremely slowly in the cold.
Tomorrow, go to the archives of the Bureau of Provisions and pull the salt tax records from the first year of Yonghe, Xie Heng said softly. Say that they are needed for the Compendium.
Wang Chun’s people will become suspicious.
I want them to be suspicious, Xie Heng said, looking at the swirling snow outside the window. Only when they are suspicious will they act. Only when they act will they reveal their flaws.
For the next half-month, Xie Heng became a regular at the Lantai.
He entered at the hour of the dragon and left at the hour of the rooster every day, looking only at old accounts and asking only about statutes. The charcoal fire was never warm enough, and frostbite began to form on the backs of his hands, yet he seemed not to care at all.
The people Wang Chun sent to spy on him always returned with the same report: Commissioner Xie transcribed three more volumes of old water transport accounts today. Nothing unusual.
Only Xiao Jue knew that in the private notebook hidden in Xie Heng’s sleeve, the numbers were quietly weaving into a net.
In the records of the Armory Bureau of the Ministry of War, which had not been changed in ten years, the same batch of weapons had been registered five times across three different warehouses.
The prices for sacrificial purchases by the Bureau of Sacrifices were more than thirty percent higher than the market rate.
There were also the records of the missing military pay from the Yonghe era. He had Xiao Jue secretly seek out the old soldiers who had been part of the transport back then.
Everything was proceeding beneath the snow, silent and invisible.
On the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, while Xie Heng was verifying the accounts for the Bureau of Waterways, he suddenly heard a commotion outside. Wang Chun hurried in with a secretary from the Bureau of Provisions, his face ashen—not from anger, but from panic.
Commissioner Xie! Wang Chun ignored all decorum. Where is the record of the melting and casting of national treasury silver ingots from the tenth year of Yonghe that you requested the day before yesterday?
Xie Heng pulled a volume from the corner of his desk. It is here. Does Vice President Wang need it?
Wang Chun snatched the ledger. His fingers trembled as he flipped to a certain page. On the edge of the yellowed paper was a line of tiny comments in vermilion ink, the color faded with age: This batch is of insufficient purity, suspected to be mixed with lead. Handled by: Liu Wen, Zhang Huan.
Liu Wen was Wang Chun’s brother-in-law. Zhang Huan had died suddenly of illness last year.
This vermilion comment… Xie Heng leaned in to look closer, the white mist of his breath blurring the characters. It looks like the handwriting of the late Secretary of Provisions, Li Yan?
Wang Chun broke into a cold sweat instantly upon hearing those words. Li Yan had been executed for embezzlement three years ago, and Wang Chun had personally presided over the case. If Li Yan had discovered the problem with the silver ingots long ago but failed to report it…
This is a frame-up! Wang Chun slammed the ledger shut. Someone must have tampered with it!
Who would tamper with an old account from ten years ago? Xie Heng’s tone was calm. Furthermore, since this volume was pulled from the Lantai, it has remained on my desk. Does Vice President Wang mean to say…
He looked up. That I am framing you?
The several officials from the Bureau of Provisions all lowered their heads and held their breath.
Wang Chun stared at Xie Heng’s pale face and suddenly understood. This half-month of dormancy, all that humility and submissiveness, had been for this exact moment.
Xie Heng did not need to seize power directly. He only needed to wait for the moment Wang Chun was at his most triumphant to gently push over the first building block.
This matter requires a thorough investigation by this official. Wang Chun clutched the ledger and hurried away, his boots slipping on the accumulated snow with every step.
Xie Heng sat back down and continued checking the accounts. The frostbite on his fingertip had cracked, seeping a thin trail of blood. He took a handkerchief to press against it, the red blooming through the snow-white silk.
A few days later, an imperial decree was issued. Wang Chun had submitted a secret memorial claiming that Xie Heng had privately tampered with archives to frame a colleague.
On the day of the confrontation, the sky had cleared after the snow, and the accumulation outside reflected a piercing light. Xie Heng knelt in the center of the hall, listening to Wang Chun’s impassioned speech. Only after he finished did Xie Heng slowly look up. Your Majesty, I only ask three things.
The Emperor nodded.
First, that ledger has been gathering dust for ten years. Why would I choose to tamper with it now?
Second, the vermilion ink is aged. How could I create the traces of ten years of age in just three days?
Third. He turned toward Wang Chun. Since Vice President Wang already knew there were doubts about the accounts, why did you not mention it during Li Yan’s case? If it had been mentioned then, perhaps Li Yan’s crime would not have warranted death.
Wang Chun was suddenly speechless. The cold wind blew through the hall, causing the hem of his official robes to flutter.
The Emperor’s gaze shifted between the two men, finally landing on Xie Heng’s hands, which had turned purple from the cold. Minister Xie, how do you wish for me to handle this?
I would not dare to say, Xie Heng kowtowed, his forehead touching the freezing gold tiles. I only ask Your Majesty to order a joint trial by the Three Judicial Offices to thoroughly investigate the whereabouts of that batch of silver ingots from the tenth year of Yonghe. If I have tampered with the accounts, I will willingly accept the ultimate penalty. If the accounts are true, He paused. I also ask Your Majesty to return justice to Li Yan.
Silence, like the snow, covered the entire hall.
Granted. The Emperor’s voice finally rang out. From this day forward, Xie Heng is temporarily reinstated as the Left Vice President to lead this case. Wang Chun is to remain behind closed doors awaiting trial.
When he walked out of the palace gates, the sunlight was blinding.
Xiao Jue came forward from outside the palace. Seeing Xie Heng’s unsteady steps, he hurried to support his arm. The contact was icy, like holding a block of ice.
Go back, Xie Heng’s voice was hoarse.
Inside the carriage, he leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, his lips frighteningly white. Xiao Jue pulled a copper hand warmer from his robes; it was carved with crude cloud patterns, and the charcoal inside was burning brightly.
Warm yourself.
Xie Heng opened his eyes, looking at the steam rising from the hand warmer and then at Xiao Jue’s frost-reddened fingers. He suddenly gave a very faint smile.
Xiao Jue, he said softly. It will get even colder from here.
I am not afraid of the cold.
I am, Xie Heng looked out at the dazzling light reflecting off the snow outside the window. I am afraid of involving too many people. I am afraid that in the end, there will be no one left to warm back up.
Xiao Jue wanted to say something, but he saw that Xie Heng had already closed his eyes again. Only this time, his knuckles tightened slightly as he gripped the hand warmer.
Meanwhile, at the Department of State Affairs, the news of Wang Chun’s house arrest spread like an avalanche. The officials who had once relied on him looked at each other in shock. Some began to quietly burn documents, the black smoke rising from their braziers mixing into the snowy mist.
Others looked toward the direction of the Lantai.
The man who had seemingly been buried by the wind and snow was now, inch by inch, pulling himself up from beneath the heavy drifts.