Chapter 28: Magistrate Wang at a Loss

Outside the county seat of Yongshun, a construction site crowded with thousands exuded an air of utter chaos.

Since the county’s financial clerk had abandoned his duties, County Magistrate Wang was at a complete loss. Staring at the towering stacks of account books, his gaze was as if fixed on a mortal enemy who had slain his father.

Though Magistrate Wang was a literary genius, composing articles with effortless grace, he was unlike some officials who, ignorant of common affairs, unceremoniously delegated all tasks to the deputy magistrate or clerks.

However, bookkeeping, managing expenditures, and auditing the county’s finances were truly beyond his expertise.

In his earlier years, it was precisely his exquisite command of prose and ornate essays that had distinguished him among thousands of scholars in the imperial examinations.

Because of this, when he had first taken office, many colleagues joked that Yongshun’s numerous stone cliffs would soon bear his literary masterpieces.

Carving poems and essays on scenic rocks was a refined tradition, indulged in not only by county officials but also by renowned Confucian scholars and statesmen of the age.

Yet the actions Magistrate Wang took in the following years utterly defied all expectations.

The scholar whose pen once blossomed with brilliance seemed transformed the moment he donned official robes.

He never again penned a single poem or verse.

Instead, he devoted two full years to personally visiting every corner of Yongshun County, meticulously studying the customs and local produce.

After gaining a comprehensive understanding of the county’s people and resources, Magistrate Wang finally undertook a bold, unprecedented initiative.

He initiated the renovation of every road in the county, using this as a breakthrough to address the livelihood issues of Yongshun’s residents.

According to the official report he submitted to the prefectural government, Yongshun, situated at the southwestern frontier and the heartland of the Central Plains, should have been a vital transportation hub.

It ought to have facilitated the flow of people and goods between these regions and thus enabled the local populace to find means of living.

Yet the reality was starkly different. Merchants traveling between the two areas preferred to take a detour, adding three to five days to their journey, rather than face the treacherous pothole-ridden roads of Yongshun.

Only small vendors carrying goods on their shoulders or backs, unable to afford the detour, braved the arduous crossing.

It was said that whenever these small traders emerged from Yongshun, they would curse loudly, “I’ll never suffer this misery again! If I take this route next time, may I be damned!”

...

Standing before a makeshift tent, Magistrate Wang’s eyes were vacant.

He forced himself to study the thick account books, but soon his vision blurred with sparkling white flecks. He stepped away to clear his mind.

Yet his heart was heavy with anxiety. The road repairs had begun, with laborers arriving constantly to collect materials. Without proper registration, chaos in the accounts was inevitable.

The already meager budget risked depletion.

The labor supervisors on site were mostly minor clerks from the county office, typically illegitimate sons of local gentry families across the county’s towns.

Since legitimate heirs usually pursued scholarly studies and imperial exams, these illegitimate sons, after learning to read, either went into trade or civil service—a common practice among minor families of the Great Yu Dynasty.

These junior clerks, usually with little income and minimal family support, all had gleaming eyes, seeking every opportunity to profit.

The recently allocated road repair funds from the imperial court represented the largest sum they had ever handled.

Faced with their endless schemes to skimp and embezzle, Magistrate Wang was utterly drained.

Had he found concrete evidence, he would have immediately arrested several as an example to others.

But each accused clerk protested their innocence, claiming they worked loyally for the county and that such accusations wounded their hearts.

With the accounts in disorder and no proof, Magistrate Wang had no choice but to endure.

It was noon.

The scorching sun beat down as exhausted laborers finally rested.

But upon returning to their makeshift shelters, a tremendous uproar broke out.

“What’s going on? Why isn’t lunch ready yet? Didn’t they say time was tight?”

“Something’s off. I just checked with the cooks. The meal is so watery, nothing like what Magistrate Wang promised!”

“Could there have been a mistake? Magistrate Wang personally assured us yesterday that no one would go hungry…”

“...”

Voices of doubt and curses turned the already chaotic site into utter turmoil.

Magistrate Wang abandoned the ledgers and slunk away from the scene, unable to find a solution—his only option was to avoid the trouble.

He stood beneath a distant tree, anxiously watching the road ahead.

“Old Ye, Old Ye, if you don’t come soon, I’ll have no choice but to dismiss the laborers temporarily. Otherwise, there’ll be a major riot.”

As for the wasted materials, silver, and his own career, Wang no longer cared at this moment.

“Pant… pant…”

An old horse wheezed, struggling along the broken official road.

Though Old Ye had braced himself mentally, he still underestimated the road’s deterioration.

He had expected two hours would be enough if he pressed the coachman hard.

The coachman lashed the reins repeatedly, urging the weary horse forward.

But the overstrained horse, upon reaching the final stretch, could barely move.

No matter how much the coachman whipped, the horse only dragged its hooves slowly, causing Old Ye to tremble with frustration.

Thankfully, Chen Ping stood nearby, soothing him.

“Teacher, don’t worry. After all, Magistrate Wang is a respectable county chief. Surely he can hold out another day or two?”

“It’s just bookkeeping and financial auditing, not that difficult,” Old Ye murmured, then sighed softly.

“Let me ask you this: if you asked that brat Chongwen to handle it, how long do you think he’d last?”

Chen Ping was speechless.

“Back when Magistrate Wang was a student, he was much like Chongwen now.”

Chen Ping had no retort. Sending Ye Chongwen to sort the accounts might as well be a death sentence.

They truly needed to hurry to prevent any major mishaps.

Suddenly, beneath a large elm tree by the roadside, a figure darted out with surprising agility and rushed to the carriage, crying out.

“Old Ye! Old Ye! You’ve finally come to save me!”

Chen Ping instinctively assumed it was a bandit attack and nearly threw Old Ye to the ground.

Fortunately, the familiar voice of Magistrate Wang diffused the misunderstanding.

The coachman stopped the carriage, and with Chen Ping’s support, Old Ye shakily stepped out.

The two stared in horror at the disheveled, grim-faced Magistrate Wang before them.

What had happened? Had rebels attacked? Had border tribes invaded from the south?