Chapter 115: The Case

The high-quality cowhide drum was exceptionally tough and pulled taut. When a human fist struck it, a powerful force rebounded, leaving the knuckles aching. Yet, Chen Jianchen struck with both fists in turns, unyielding, blow after blow landing against the drumhead.

*Thump, thump, thump!*

Though the sound was not deafening, it was steady and rhythmic—enough to reach the ears of the masters inside the government office.

The elderly bailiff’s expression shifted violently, his voice turning shrill: "Audacious commoner! How dare you strike the official drum in such a disorderly fashion? You have quite a lot of nerve!"

Chen Jianchen raised his sword-like eyebrows: "This drum is meant for the filing of grievances. Any citizen with an injustice may strike it. You, as a bailiff, have invented your own rules and extort money at will; such a crime is worthy of execution."

The old bailiff was so infuriated that he nearly jumped out of his skin. Since ancient times, it had been said: "The yamen gates face south; if you have reason but no money, do not enter." This rule of charging a fee to beat the drum had been in place for years; who had ever dared to challenge it?

Unexpectedly, he had encountered a stubborn fool today who had simply resorted to his fists, effectively challenging the authority of the government.

Thinking this, he pulled an iron chain from his waist, intending to snare Chen Jianchen.

Chen Jianchen let out a stern shout: "I am a scholar; how dare you lay hands on me without cause?"

By now, Wang Fu and the others had stepped up, standing by Chen Jianchen’s side. In truth, Wang Fu was trembling inwardly: if the bailiff wanted money, they should have just paid it—it was only a pittance. Furthermore, this was Suzhou, not Jiangzhou; if a scene were made, the other side could easily create endless obstacles, making the case impossible to handle.

When it came to the twists and turns of officialdom, the shades of black and white, Wang Fu understood far more than Chen Jianchen. However, he did not realize that even if Chen Jianchen understood, he would never swallow his pride and follow another man’s corrupt rules.

Hearing his shout, the old bailiff’s face changed, and he hesitated. The man was a scholar; as a mere bailiff, he could not simply take action. He decided to go inside and report to the secretary for a final verdict.

He turned and scurried into the yamen with surprising agility.

When the grievance drum sounds, the court must be convened; this was the established custom. The efficiency of the Suzhou Prefecture office was actually quite decent. About the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, the main hall was prepared. Two rows of bailiffs stood at attention, their heavy wooden staves striking the floor with rhythmic thuds, while they chanted the standard: "Majesty!"

Chen Jianchen and Wang Fu entered with heads held high—as scholars with degrees, they held the exemption of not having to kneel before officials.

The hall was imposing. Hanging high in the center was a plaque reading "Bright Mirror Hung High." Beneath it sat an official with a short stature, a gourd-like build, a round face, small eyes, and a thin, drooping mustache, making him look like a roly-poly toy.

Prefect Mo Zezong of Suzhou was indeed a "roly-poly" in officialdom. Three different governors had come and gone, yet he remained as steady as a rock.

If, in the Tiantong Dynasty, the position of Governor was one of great power and influence, the Prefect was roughly equivalent to the Chief Justice, presiding over all legal cases in the prefecture. The illicit gains to be made were comparable to the waters of the Suzhou River, making it a highly coveted, lucrative post.

*Crack!*

Whether there was a case or not, he first struck the gavel—this was the majesty of the office. "Who is it below that strikes the drum to open the court? Why do you not kneel before this official?"

Wang Fu quickly stepped forward and bowed: "Student Wang Fu, a scholar of Minghua Academy in Jiangzhou, greets the Magistrate."

"Student Chen Jianchen, a government-sponsored scholar of Minghua Academy, greets the Magistrate."

The secretary beside the Magistrate immediately demanded: "Do you possess your travel permits and identification tags?"

These documents were proofs of identity, especially when leaving one’s home province. Without them, one would be charged with "vagrancy" and punished according to the law. In other words, these were the "passports" of this world.

Wang Fu and Chen Jianchen presented their permits. The secretary verified them before returning them.

Since two scholars had come to file a report—one of whom was a government-sponsored student—the situation was special. The usual tactics used against commoners would not work. Prefect Mo asked, "Why do you strike the drum? Do you have a formal petition?"

The petition was the written statement of grievances, essential for the hearing. Chen Jianchen had already drafted it on the way, so he presented it now.

Upon reading it, Magistrate Mo was startled. To kidnap someone in broad daylight and even commit murder—this was a grave case. He quickly sharpened his focus, consulted briefly with his secretary, and first ordered the coroner to examine the injuries of the deceased and record the testimony, which was then signed and sealed. He then dispatched two thief-takers leading a team of bailiffs to the scene to investigate. These were standard procedures for handling a case, and the process was impeccable. Once these were done, Magistrate Mo told Wang Fu and Chen Jianchen to return to their inn and await news.

They could afford to wait, but the kidnapped Lu Xiyue certainly could not.

A disaster from out of the blue, Wang Fu sighed and frowned, his journey home forced to be delayed. It didn't matter if they returned a few days late, but Chen Jianchen had entrusted Lu Xiyue to his care, and for her to be snatched away left him feeling responsible. In truth, Chen Jianchen did not blame him at all. With his quick mind, Chen Jianchen’s first reaction upon thinking of the incident was that the perpetrators were likely people from Li Yifeng’s side.

Li Yifeng and the Lu family shared a blood feud. Back then, to seize the Lu family’s property, Li Yifeng had colluded with local officials and the government, stopping at nothing. He had used the most despicable means to cause the deaths of Lu Xiyue’s parents, thereby seizing the vast Lu estate and becoming the prominent tycoon of Suzhou he was today.

Lu Xiyue had kept every detail of that process in her heart and told it all to Chen Jianchen.

After hearing it, Chen Jianchen’s assessment of Li Yifeng was: "Fierce as a wolf and tiger, a villain more vicious than a demon."

Years later, when Lu Xiyue, who had been drifting in Jiangzhou, returned to pay respects to her parents, she had harbored thoughts of revenge. Though her assassination attempt on the boat had failed, perhaps it was then that Li Yifeng had become suspicious...

However, the current situation was unclear, and it was difficult to draw conclusions. One thing was certain: one could not simply sit and wait for the government to reach a verdict. Countless examples had long since proven that by the time the government arrived at a conclusion, a sow would have already climbed a tree.

Reporting to the government was merely a routine procedure for appearances.

For the covert efforts, he would have to utilize whatever help he could muster. The greatest assistance, undoubtedly, would be the Huangfu father and daughter. It was a pity that Elder Huangfu was injured and could not take human form to move about; otherwise, his involvement would be even more effective. With the old fox spirit unable to act, he had to settle for the next best thing: asking the young fox spirit for help. Jiaona might be a bit reckless, but she possessed magic, did she not?

Moreover, when leaving Huzhuang, Jiaona had mentioned a name—"Song Niang"—saying she could help gather information. Could she also be a demon?

Chen Jianchen was temporarily unsure. After giving Wang Fu a few instructions, he returned to Huzhuang alone. He left Wang Fu in Suzhou for two reasons: he needed someone to listen for news, and there were some things that, if known to Wang Fu, would benefit neither of them.

Looking out at the distant green mountains, he saw that the world was filled with blades of wind and swords of rain; there were not many who could truly endure it all.