Eighteen Carriages

When Lu Xuanhe arrived at the Court of Judicial Review, several censors within the government offices were practically berating the Chief Justice, Yang Zheng, pointing fingers at him.

Though the officials from the Censorate held modest ranks, their powers were formidable, and Yang Zheng’s face was ashen from the scolding.

“You handle cases with such rashness, believing whatever the culprit claims without probing deeper. If the Chief Justice acts like you, even a street child could do the job!”

“You neglect your household affairs. I hear your recently recovered daughter is constantly at odds with your wife, no wonder your mind is far from official duties. If you cannot manage, you should have resigned to let someone capable take over!”

Another Left Deputy Chief Justice, Lu Zhongping, though not the main target, was also implicated.

“Lu Zhongping, every day on duty you dine and revel with the Ministry officials. Have you forgotten the purpose of wearing this official robe, indulging in factionalism and private gain?”

Lu Xuanhe’s ears rang from the loud voice, unable to imagine how Yang Zheng and Lu Zhongping felt at the storm’s epicenter.

The Left Deputy Censor, Xu Zhengqing—usually unassuming—revealed formidable resolve today!

This uproar at the Court of Judicial Review stemmed from the case of Pei Hejing, the court’s most critical recent matter, which had been “cracked” just the day before. The culprit was caught just outside the capital in Wanping’s outskirts.

Under interrogation, the culprit confessed that he was caught stealing and, in desperation, killed Pei Hejing.

The Chief Justice asked twice, the culprit did not change his story, so the Chief Justice believed it, stating that with both witness and material evidence, the case was closed.

That very night, the culprit committed suicide in prison, leaving a blood-written letter professing regret, claiming he was momentarily confused and had mistakenly killed such a righteous official as Pei Hejing. He could no longer bear to live.

Lu Xuanhe found this entire sequence absurd, but Yang Zheng, his superior, accepted it, and as a deputy, he was powerless to intervene.

This matter was beyond Lu Xuanhe’s control, but he quietly passed the insider information to Xie Yuanheng.

As expected, Xie Yuanheng never disappointed; no one knew what unscrupulous method he had devised, but overnight, officials from the Censorate came storming in, yelling like shrews.

Lu Xuanhe had lit the fuse but did not want to get burned himself. Before the officials’ ire turned on him, he entered and promptly requested leave from his superior.

“My cousin is ill at the farmstead. You know the entire Lu family, except for me, is not in the capital. Out of duty and reason, I must visit her. The farm is far, and the round trip takes a day or two, plus some buffer. Fortunately, the Court’s major case is resolved; a three-day leave will not hinder our work.”

If it were an ordinary cousin falling ill, Lu Xuanhe would never have been granted leave, but Lin Qitang was an orphan from the Battle of Yangcheng, a different matter altogether.

Still, Yang Zheng was reluctant to approve. He disliked the youth, suspecting that the rapid leak of the Court’s news was likely his doing, though he had no proof.

Seeing the refusal, Lu Xuanhe was prepared to confront Yang Zheng openly in front of the Censorate officials, debating whether Pei Hejing’s case had irregularities.

“Go early, return early.” Lu Xuanhe suspected Yang Zheng said this through gritted teeth, given his fierce expression.

Lu Xuanhe had only learned yesterday that Qitang was ill. He had planned to rush there overnight after duty, but Xie Yuanheng’s efficiency meant the Court would be embroiled in uproar for days, so there was no need to remain and endure the scolding alongside Yang Zheng.

After all, one must bear the consequences of one’s own misdeeds.

***

Xie Jun, burdened by Lu Xuanhe’s incessant reminders, opened the letter from the twelfth sister. With the Pei Hejing case laid out and the situation set to unfold, Xie Jun finally had time to attend to Miss Lin the Second.

The twelfth sister wrote that Miss Lin the Second cared little for the family’s social relations nor for her mother and grandmother’s coldness; what she cared for most was planting winter wheat.

Xie Jun rarely doubted his own eyes. He blinked rapidly to relax his eyes, then refocused on the twelfth sister’s letter.

Indeed, he was not mistaken: winter wheat was the primary concern of Miss Lin the Second.

This time, the twelfth sister wrote two full pages.

The first page introduced Miss Lin the Second’s “Nine Wheat Method,” recounting clearly how she even punched a shameless scoundrel in Wu’s family village during her persuasion efforts.

The second page was a lengthy earnest advice, hoping the Xie family’s farmland would adopt the Nine Wheat Method.

Xie Jun laid down the two pages filled with writing, raising an eyebrow: “You said the twelfth sister was taciturn, but judging by this, that seems unlikely?”

“And if I recall correctly, she should be my covert guard. Why does she look out so much for Miss Lin the Second?”

Yan Ming, standing nearby, chuckled awkwardly: “She acts on orders. The twelfth sister is quite simple-minded. Master, you told her to be Miss Lin the Second’s maid, and she took the role too seriously.”

Xie Jun did not truly mind. He let the twelfth sister understand Lin Yun, report developments, and as long as the tasks succeeded, he did not care by what means his subordinate achieved them.

Even if the twelfth sister’s way of understanding Lin Yun was through sincere emotional involvement.

Xie Jun tapped the desk thoughtfully, pondering the feasibility of Miss Lin the Second’s Nine Wheat Method, yet found no logical conclusion.

One cannot rationally judge what is beyond one’s knowledge.

However, earlier blueprints of the curved plow and waterwheel made Xie Jun inclined to trust this Nine Wheat Method.

Miss Lin the Second truly possessed something extraordinary; the Nine Wheat Method was likely well-targeted.

Before Xie Jun took charge of the Ministry of Revenue, the Great Zhou’s finances were in deficit, once peaking at nearly 500,000 taels of silver annually.

After Xie Jun assumed power, through careful budgeting and revenue enhancement, the financial situation improved but remained tight.

If the Nine Wheat Method worked, the court could save disaster relief grain in the capital and even collect additional taxes.

If it failed, the loss would be in wheat seeds and an extra tenth of relief grain.

Weighing pros and cons, it was worth the risk. Xie Jun decided to oversee the matter.

Yet he did not wish Lin Yun to know of their connection. He intended to make it clear in a reasonable and justified manner that “Xie Cifu knows someone is experimenting with the Nine Wheat Method” while managing the issue.

His knuckles tapped twice on the table. Soon, he had a plan: “Yan Lu, arrange for one or two villagers who were struck by a punch to file a complaint tomorrow at the Wanping County office against Miss Lin the Second.”

“For charges, say interference with farming, spreading heresy, and assault.”

After Yan Lu left the Xie residence to hasten to Wu’s family village in Wanping County, Xie Jun was still in disbelief.

Wasn’t Master Xie fond of Miss Lin the Second?

Yet he was having her sued—surely there must be some grudge?

***

Lin Yun was unaware of the impending events. After leaving Shaohai Hall, she passed a message to Madame Song, who replied that she had no objection as long as the matriarch consented to Lin Yun managing their land. However, the old matriarch was resting, and her attendant said they would discuss it when her spirit was better.

It was clearly a game of passing the buck, something Lin Yun was familiar with. It was like applying for research funds—if the supervisor did not give a definitive answer but told her to wait, it usually meant endless delays until the request was denied.

Lin Yun returned disappointed but undeterred, at least having secured her cousin’s land.

She spent an hour communicating with the steward of her cousin’s land, teaching him how to implement the Nine Wheat Method.

Unlike the cold reception in Wu’s family village, Steward Liu was respectful and obedient, listening without interrupting and carefully noting the steps.

In the end, Liu confirmed the details with Lin Yun: “Miss, you can rest assured; I will lead my tenants to implement your method to the letter. As long as the wheat grows, this will not fail on my watch.”

The implication was clear: if the wheat failed to grow, the fault lay with Lin Yun’s method, not Steward Liu.

Of course, Lin Yun did not understand this subtlety; she only sensed Liu’s earnestness and was moved by his trust.

Lin Yun profoundly realized that in Great Zhou, the most effective way to accomplish something was by orders from above, not persuasion from below.

But knowing was easier than doing. Though she understood it was likely futile, she still took the carriage to Wu’s family village again.

Most of the guards she had brought before had returned to the Marquis of Ningyuan’s mansion; this time, Lin Yun traveled light, accompanied only by Ruyi, two guards, and Qian Da.

Shi Er originally wanted to come but stayed back in the Lin Garden to prepare snacks since Lin Yun craved snowflake crisp.

This time in Wu’s family village, Lin Yun changed her approach: “Our Lin family land will use the Nine Wheat Method this year. If it’s unreliable, I wouldn’t waste our fields. If you want to try, you must hurry—the Winter Solstice is just days away.”

Yet still, no one agreed. Lin Yun closed the last door.

She wished to use the Nine Wheat Method to ensure the villagers would not miss the farming season and could harvest wheat next year, but she had tried her best and said all she could.

If time allowed tomorrow, she planned to try other villages.

After visiting the fields once more, Lin Yun headed back. Leaning on Ruyi’s shoulder in the carriage, she dozed.

Suddenly, the carriage jolted violently. Lin Yun felt herself about to fall on Ruyi. Afraid of hurting her, she braced with her elbow to the side.

She missed Ruyi but struck her head on the carriage and hurt her arm, feeling uncomfortable.

A simple bump, yet it was an honor to be injured; her body was indeed weak from recent illness.

She recalled how she used to wear a protective suit and work a full day in the fields.

After ensuring Ruyi was unharmed, Lin Yun lifted the curtain to ask Qian Da what had happened.

“A spoke broke; it needs repair.”

Lin Yun held her head and, with Ruyi’s support, dismounted. Ruyi’s eyes reddened with worry: “Miss, does it hurt? You should have just fallen on me; that way, you wouldn’t get hurt.”

Lin Yun waved off the concern with her uninjured hand, saying, “It’s not your fault. I was just dazed. When the carriage jolted, I panicked and leaned to the side.”

Hearing this, Ruyi’s guilty expression eased considerably.

Lin Yun took out the footstool from the carriage and sat on it, then shifted over, patting the empty space beside her: “Ruyi, come sit too.”

Ruyi declined, insisting on standing beside Lin Yun to shield her from the sun.

Lin Yun wanted to say no, she still wanted to bask in the sun to absorb some calcium, hoping her youthful body and height might still grow.

But seeing Ruyi’s insistence on helping, she let it be.

Lu Xuanhe saw this scene inside the carriage: a fair-skinned, beautiful young lady sitting carelessly by the roadside, her hair askew, holding her head in a daze, next to a broken carriage.

He ordered the coachman to stop and leaned out, asking, “Cousin, I’m heading to the Lin Garden. Want a ride?”

Bathed in the sunset, with his strikingly handsome face and Lin Yun’s pitiful state, it truly seemed like a savior had arrived.

Seeing her cousin, Lin Yun was genuinely pleased—mainly because of the letter hidden in her sleeve—and promptly agreed, “Alright, thank you, cousin.”