Daily Life of a Villain at Work [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 44

Chapter 44: The Eighth Day of the Villain Being Emperor

Chu Xin remembered Her Majesty’s instructions: when investigating and prosecuting officials, do not interfere with the normal conduct of the Imperial Examinations.

Thus, Chu Xin interrogated the County Vice-Magistrate in detail, personally drafted his confession, and had him sign and thumbprint it. Before sunset, she led a thousand soldiers into the city under the guise of suppressing bandits.

When the County Magistrate heard that garrison soldiers had entered the city, he was slightly surprised but didn’t pay it much mind. Chu Xin had mentioned bandit suppression a month ago; he assumed the local garrison was simply sending men to put on a show out of respect for Chu Xin’s current status.

The Magistrate miscalculated. He did not expect these men to surround the county yamen so completely that not even a drop of water could leak out. Without any warning, they threw every official and clerk within the yamen into the Great Jail.

“Lord Chu, what is the meaning of this?” The Magistrate’s face was flushed with rage. “Mobilizing troops in the county yamen without cause can be viewed as treason!”

“Remove his black winged hat and escort him to the jail for supervision,” Chu Xin said without wasting words, letting her men seize him directly.

After circling the yamen to ensure no one had escaped the net, Chu Xin led her team straight to the home of the Tax Bureau Ambassador and began a thorough search. As for the Ambassador and most other officials on duty, they had already been locked in cells.

Under the cover of night, Chu Xin moved unimpeded, searching the homes of most officials and uncovering a mountain of evidence.

“Draft a notice and post it in prominent places tomorrow. State that the Magistrate of Xiaofeng County embezzled taxes, and that all officials are being detained temporarily for questioning. Once the investigation is complete, those found innocent may return home,” Chu Xin ordered.

“Assign two hundred soldiers to patrol the city. Keep a close watch on the three wealthy clans mentioned in the Vice-Magistrate’s confession. If anyone intentionally stirs up trouble, seize them regardless of their status.”

“Assign another four hundred men to guard the four city gates—East, West, South, and North—to prevent them from using their private guards and servants to disrupt order.”

“Acting Centurion, I’ll trouble you to monitor what the commoners are discussing in the wine shops and restaurants tomorrow. If anyone is inciting a riot, arrest them all.”

“Furthermore, keep an eye on the prices in grain and cloth shops. If someone deliberately hikes prices, give them a public warning.”

After giving her orders, Chu Xin began to review the plan in her mind, searching for any oversights. To minimize the impact, she needed to arrest the necessary targets with maximum speed, allowing the commoners to go about their daily business as usual.

Her orders were executed one by one. By the time the people of Xiaofeng County woke up, Chu Xin had already stabilized the situation. Some commoners who lived further away and rarely dealt with the government didn’t even hear a whisper of the news; they bought and sold vegetables in the morning just as they did every other day.

Compared to the officials awaiting interrogation in jail, the wealthy clans who had heard rumors but remained free were far more anxious. Having learned that armored soldiers were patrolling the streets and guarding the gates, they dared not move rashly. They didn’t even dare send trusted messengers out to seek help. They feared their messengers weren’t clever enough and would be caught, turning them from “possibly innocent” into “accomplices.”

After all, the notice only said Lord Chu had discovered discrepancies in the land tax. Although they had used underhanded means to seize much land, they had paid every penny of the required taxes. As long as they stayed still, perhaps the fire wouldn’t spread to them.

Chu Xin did not move against the wealthy families immediately. After handing the interrogations over to the professional Jinyiwei Centurion, she began her fourth day of presiding over the court.

“Your Honor! I have a grievance! I wish to accuse the Vice-Magistrate of condoning his family’s evil deeds; they seized my pharmacy!”

“Your Honor! Please seek justice for this commoner! My daughter was only thirteen when they forcibly took her away!”

“Your Honor! My leg was broken by the bailiffs, all because I asked them for the wine money they’ve owed me for days!”

While some commoners noticed nothing, others saw the posted notices. Once they realized the Magistrate and Vice-Magistrate were under guard and that no one was stopping them from approaching the yamen, a long queue quickly formed at the entrance to beat the drum and cry for justice.

Chu Xin received these people personally, listening to their accounts of injustice. She soon noticed one name being mentioned with startling frequency.

“Where is the Vice-Magistrate’s nephew?” Chu Xin asked.

A guard replied, “Reporting to Your Honor, before the house search last night, this man was already missing from his residence.”

“He heard the rumors and fled? Did anyone let him out of the city?” Chu Xin frowned.

“Your Honor, we found him,” another guard reported. “After leaving his home last night, he went straight to the brothel and spent the entire night carousing. He is still unconscious on the couch.”

Chu Xin said nothing. She flipped onto her horse and galloped toward the Xiaofeng County brothel.

Fifteen minutes later, ignoring the curious onlookers, she walked straight into the establishment.

“L-Lord, who are you looking for?” The madam took a reflexive look at Chu Xin’s figure, but upon meeting Chu Xin’s sharp gaze, she timidly lowered her head.

“Where is the Vice-Magistrate’s nephew?” Chu Xin’s face was grim as her eyes swept across the layout of the building.

In the Great Qian Dynasty, brothels were a gray industry. Unlike the previous dynasty which had state-run “official prostitutes,” the Great Qian had forbidden them since its founding; the Jiaofangsi (Registry of Entertainment) was purely for song and dance. Nobles could pay to enjoy performances, but “visiting prostitutes” was strictly forbidden; the gap between entertainers and “clean” commoners was kept small.

However, since the death of the founding Empress, this rule had begun to crumble. On paper, the regulations still existed, but in practice, few followed them. Brothels were essentially private versions of the Jiaofangsi—everyone knew what business they were really in. Local officials and previous male emperors turned a blind eye due to the high commercial taxes, provided no one filed a formal complaint.

Seeing the armored, sword-bearing guards behind her, the madam didn’t dare delay for a second. She led Chu Xin to a second-floor suite, stopping before the most expensive room.

“Your Honor, let me,” the Acting Centurion stepped forward, blocking Chu Xin’s hand and kicking the door directly.

Crash!

The wooden door fell to the floor. The man inside, startled by the commotion, woke up and scrambled to throw a garment over himself.

“Who! Who dares kick my door! Do you know who I am?” The man had dark circles under his eyes and a hollow, weak voice.

“Seize him, put him in a cangue, and drag him back,” Chu Xin said, watching expressionlessly as the man was hauled away.

“Are you the manager here?” Chu Xin’s gaze fell on the madam. “Do you know that according to the laws of Great Qian, brothels are not permitted to allow guests to forcibly occupy dancers or singers?”

According to the laws set at the founding of the dynasty, women in the entertainment bureaus could be singers, dancers, or laborers, but never prostitutes! Unfortunately, in a world dominated by patriarchy, such laws were ignored. In the eyes of the commoners, “brothel” was synonymous with “bordello.”

The madam stammered, unable to answer. This law hadn’t been enforced in over a hundred years. It had only truly functioned during the first fifty years of the dynasty.

Chu Xin wanted to investigate the brothel thoroughly and arrest everyone breaking the law. But logic suppressed the impulse. In the end, she merely had the madam taken to the yamen and ordered a seal to be placed on the brothel’s doors, commanding it to cease operations for rectification.

While Chu Xin was vigorously dealing with corrupt officials and their bullying relatives, Bai Siyang in Jiangxi Province was also preparing to strike at the local gentry who had seized commoners’ land. Both women were accompanied by a Jinyiwei Centurion. As they drafted their detailed memorials to the throne, the Jinyiwei were already sending the information they gathered to Wen Qingyun.

Seeing one person take down a county yamen and the other nearly arrest an entire class of local gentry, a look of gratification appeared on Wen Qingyun’s face.

Chu Xin was as enterprising and bold as she had imagined, daring to arrest and interrogate nearly a hundred local officials. Bai Siyang was more composed; after building a relationship with the local Magistrate, she used his name to strike the gentry, effectively binding the Magistrate to her ship and forcing him to become an honest official.

“Any movement from the neighboring prefectures?” Wen Qingyun asked, pinning the secret letter under a paperweight.

The Jinyiwei Colonel replied, “Reporting to Your Majesty, both ministers have successfully suppressed the news. Likely only a few outsiders have noticed, and so far, there have been no major movements.”

Wen Qingyun nodded slowly. “Send two more Centurions. You must ensure the safety of Chu Xin and Bai Siyang. If there are assassins, bring them to me alive.”

“This servant obeys the decree.”

…

The seven-day court session passed quickly, but there were still many commoners with grievances. Chu Xin wished she knew a spell to split herself into eight people to throw every oppressor into prison as fast as possible.

When she learned that Her Majesty had specially dispatched one hundred Jinyiwei to assist her, Chu Xin was moved to tears. Her Majesty, thousands of miles away, knew exactly what kind of talent she lacked—she was truly a ruler of peerless foresight!

Thus, these hundred Jinyiwei, skilled in combat and law, were sent out to work. Only ten remained to fulfill their original mission of protecting Chu Xin.

The arrival of the Jinyiwei solved Chu Xin’s staffing issues, but for the restless gentry, it was another terrifying display of imperial power.

“The capital sent a message telling us not to act rashly. Settle what can be settled with money; if it really comes down to it, sacrifice some clansmen. We must not oppose Chu Xin, and absolutely must not touch her.”

“But didn’t we send people to assassinate her at the very beginning?”

“At that time, Chu Xin hadn’t revealed her identity, and we left no evidence. No one can prove we did it. But moving now is different; assassinating a Censor specially appointed by the Emperor is equivalent to treason.”

As the heads of the wealthy clans met to discuss their strategy, a servant ran in frantically.

“Masters, it’s bad! Master Wang has been arrested, and all his shops have been sealed!”

“His family? Did they only take him?” one man asked.

“Currently only Master Wang, but his estate is full of soldiers saying they are confiscating his property,” the servant gasped.

“Are we really going to sit and wait for death?” another man said, his face full of worry. He had done everything Master Wang had done. If Wang was arrested, was he next?

“Do not panic. It is only Brother Wang. Unless this Chu Xin completely disregards the lives of the people in the county, she won’t arrest all of us.”

“Do not forget, we own ninety percent of the grain shops, cloth shops, and pawnshops in the city. Can she really seal them all?”

This provided great comfort, and the restless lords gradually regained their composure.

“It is already June. The Southern Inspection tour will leave by August at the latest. We only need to endure two more months. If it truly comes to it, we can suffer some grievances. The worst result is waiting in prison for a new Magistrate and then using our connections to smooth things over.”

“But what if Chu Xin sentences us to death?” someone asked.

“Chu Xin is technically a sixth-rank Secretary with a nominal fifth-rank title, but she is just a girl not yet twenty. Can she really sentence us to immediate execution?” the leader said confidently.

“Before the Emperor appointed her as an Inspecting Censor, she could only copy files in the yamen. It is the Emperor who gave her some backbone to strike the officials. But a Censor monitors officials, not ordinary citizens like us. As long as we keep crying ‘injustice,’ can she really beat us into a confession and cut off our heads?”

“Look, the Magistrate and Vice-Magistrate have been under interrogation for over half a month. Has anyone’s head actually rolled?”

“Chu Xin is the daughter of a Grand Secretary of the Wenyuan Pavilion, a young lady from a noble, scholarly family. Such people are easily swayed by emotion. Look at what she’s doing now—listening to the complaints of those ‘unruly subjects’ every day, saying she wants to host justice for them.”

“If we get caught, we will just cry ‘injustice’ too. We’ll push all the blame onto the Vice-Magistrate, saying he coerced and enticed us, and we had no choice but to follow.”

The wealthy lords analyzed Chu Xin one after another and actually came up with a decent plan. At least for the current, highly empathetic Chu Xin, playing the victim and showing weakness was somewhat effective.

Sure enough, three days later, one of the wealthy men was arrested for forcibly seizing a prime shop and driving the previous owner to hang himself. This man insisted he only cooperated to protect his family from the Vice-Magistrate’s malice and wept bitterly, expressing deep regret.

“Your Honor, I was merely the Vice-Magistrate’s pawn! His younger brother personally demanded that shop; I didn’t dare refuse to buy it for him.”

“I was wrong, Your Honor! I sent plenty of silver to the deceased’s family. If it’s not enough, I am willing to support his dependents, treat his mother as my own, and pay for his children’s schooling and exams.”

“I hope Your Honor sees that I was forced and have repented. Spare my life! I have a seventy-year-old mother above and young children below!”

To save his life, his acting was explosive—tears and snot flowing, crying so piteously that even many uninformed commoners began to sympathize with him.

Chu Xin showed a look of hesitation. If he truly was coerced, he was also a victim.

“Your Honor, why not let us handle the interrogation?” The Jinyiwei Centurion volunteered. “I have many ways to verify if he is telling the truth.”

Chu Xin agreed without much hesitation. “Very well. Take the prisoner down. I’ll trouble you to investigate thoroughly.”

The Jinyiwei’s interrogation methods were things even “hard bones” couldn’t withstand, let alone “soft bones” accustomed to luxury.

When she learned of the schemes they were harboring from the confessions, Chu Xin was both angry and annoyed—angry at their lack of remorse and annoyed that they had actually seen through her personality.

Chu Xin felt she should be ruthless, but she couldn’t quite grasp the proper “degree.” After hesitating for a long time, she picked up her brush and began writing a memorial. She wrote for the entire night.

The next day, with dark circles under her eyes, she handed the memorial to the Centurion and asked him to send it to the capital.

At the end of June, returning with the Jinyiwei messenger was a Zhenfu (Justice Official) from the Northern Flogging Commandery of the Jinyiwei—someone especially skilled at skipping judicial procedures to convict and handle criminals.

“This subordinate, Weiyu, greets Lord Chu. Her Majesty has specially sent me to ease your worries.” A Zhenfu was of the junior sixth rank, the same grade as an Acting Centurion, but due to their specific powers, even fourth-rank officials dared not slight them.

Chu Xin returned the greeting. She had heard the name “Weiyu” from her father; this was a ruthless person who had personally participated in the arrest of the Imperial Princes’ families. Like the other Zhenfu named “Choumou,” they used code names bestowed by the Emperor. Together, they formed the phrase Wei Yu Chou Mou (Preparing for a rainy day).

“If Lord Chu does not mind, I will take full responsibility for the trials and punishments,” Weiyu said with a smile. She was slightly shorter than Chu Xin, but the murderous aura around her could not be ignored. Even with a smile, she carried an indelible sense of the macabre.

“I’ll trouble you then,” Chu Xin said without hesitation, handing over all the evidence and confessions she had gathered.

Unlike Chu Xin’s style of investigating every meticulous detail, Weiyu’s efficiency was staggering. In just one day, she reviewed all the evidence Chu Xin had spent two months collecting.

“All these people are to be executed?” Chu Xin looked at the names on the list, clearly stunned. “Officially, I only arrested three hundred people in total. You want to immediately execute two hundred and thirty-six of them?”

“Your Honor, the confessions and evidence you provided are enough to sentence them to death,” Weiyu stated calmly.

“But… but for some, according to the law, the crime… does not warrant death…” Chu Xin was nearly speechless. For the Magistrate and Vice-Magistrate, Chu Xin naturally agreed with immediate execution and confiscation of property. But some on the list had crimes limited to predatory acquisitions or causing injury resulting in disability. According to the Great Qian Code, they should be sentenced to ten to twenty years in prison, not death.

“Your Honor, Her Majesty has given oral instructions: punish with severity. This list is only for those to be executed within the next seven days. There are many others whose crimes warrant the seizure of their entire estates; I will continue to arrest them tomorrow and send them to the execution ground together,” Weiyu said, her expression unchanging.

“Your Honor, I have not yet finished categorizing the families. I shall take my leave.” Weiyu cupped her hands, turned, and left with her hand on her sword hilt.

Chu Xin read the names over and over, looking lost. She had written the memorial. She was the one who admitted she couldn’t grasp the proper degree of punishment and asked for Her Majesty’s guidance.

“Punishing with severity” didn’t seem wrong; it would deter those with bad intentions and force those who hadn’t been caught to behave. But these were over two hundred lives. If you added the family members and servants involved, it would likely exceed five hundred.

Chu Xin pursed her lips, slowly folding the paper and tucking it away, comforting herself. Her Majesty was surely doing this to “kill the chicken to warn the monkey,” forcing the great clans to pull back their hands and stop targeting the commoners.

After tossing and turning for a long time, Chu Xin finally fell asleep.

The next day, the first batch of prisoners was fitted with wooden cangues and iron chains and paraded through the streets under soldier escort. Weiyu rode at the front. After an hour, they arrived at the county execution ground.

Chu Xin sat on the stage as the presiding official, waiting for the arrival of noon.

“Your Honor, the time has come,” Weiyu, seated to Chu Xin’s lower left, reminded her.

Chu Xin took a deep breath, picked up the execution token, and tossed it down. “Execute.”

At the command, fifty heads fell at once.

The thick scent of blood soon drifted to Chu Xin’s nose, making her stomach churn. Had she not only drunk a bit of water this morning, she probably wouldn’t have been able to stop herself from vomiting.

Chu Xin forced herself to look at the execution platform. Those executed today were all people of extreme evil. Those they had harmed, directly or indirectly, were far more than just one person. In Weiyu’s words, Her Majesty not sentencing them to be cut in half at the waist, but rather a swift decapitation, was already an act of extra-legal mercy.

“Your Honor, it will be at the same time tomorrow. You’ve worked hard,” Weiyu said, her face as calm as ever. Decapitations were nothing to her; she had lost count of how many people she had killed personally, from the elderly to infants in swaddling clothes.

“Fine. I understand.” Chu Xin exhaled slowly.

After sitting still for a long time, she stood up in a daze, walked to her carriage, and climbed inside. Guided by her guards, the carriage moved at a steady pace. Even hundreds of meters away from the execution platform, Chu Xin felt as though the scent of blood still lingered at her nose.

She looked down at her fair, smooth hands. The only imperfection was a thin layer of calluses from years of holding a brush. After a long silence, she raised her hand and sniffed her fingertips.

There was only the faint scent of ink, no smell of blood.

As the carriage moved further away, the voices of the commoners reached her from outside.

“Thank you, Your Honor, for seeking justice for this commoner! I thank you!”

“Your Honor! My son can finally rest in peace! He can be reincarnated now! I will remember your kindness for a lifetime!”

“Thank you, Your Honor! I am willing to offer eternal lamps for you! I pray that a good person like you will be rewarded for a lifetime!”

Lifting the small side curtain of the carriage, she saw commoners kneeling on the ground, kowtowing toward her.

Chu Xin froze. The bloody scenes of severed heads in her mind were gradually replaced by these weeping, shouting commoners.

That’s right. She was petitioning for the people. Those dragged to the jail were all people who deserved to die. Especially those executed today—they were villains of the highest order. They deserved death.

Why should she fear the sight of an execution when it was for such wretched criminals?

Such villains… they deserve to die. They deserve to be killed!