Save That Miserable Protagonist - Chapter 33

Several days of rushing about had yielded nothing.

As it happened, the continuous spring rain that had lasted for days finally ceased. That day, Yan Buzhuo insisted that Ruan Suiyu accompany him out of the city.

The investigation grew increasingly difficult, which only fueled Yan Buzhuo’s determination. He harbored a burning resentment inside, desperate to bring the full truth of this matter to light.

If the incumbent officials were unwilling to speak, what of those retired elders? Or the common people outside the city who might know the truth? Yan Buzhuo refused to believe that in such a vast city as Moling, he could not find a single person worth questioning.

The peach blossoms along the canal seemed to have regained some vitality. Looking at the bright pink flowers by the roadside, and then at Ruan Suiyu, who sat opposite him dressed in pristine white, Yan Buzhuo suddenly recalled the first time they met.

He remembered that day, when Ruan Suiyu sat high on his horse in crimson robes; the peach blossoms on the branches were not as bright as he was.

Just then, the carriage jolted suddenly. Yan Buzhuo subconsciously reached out to steady himself against the window frame, his fingertips inadvertently brushing a lock of ink-black hair resting on Ruan Suiyu’s shoulder.

The strands felt slightly cool, carrying a crisp, clean fragrance, and tangled around Yan Buzhuo’s fingertips. Acting on an inexplicable impulse, Yan Buzhuo did not pull his hand back. Instead, he lifted his shining, puppy-like eyes to look at Ruan Suiyu and said sincerely, “Actually… you look even better in colored clothing.”

He meant it from the heart.

Ruan Suiyu was very fair, his skin like jade; for such a person, wearing white made him appear a bit too cold. A touch of color would only better accentuate his beauty.

The peach blossoms and the red robe of that day had proven this.

Watching the silent Ruan Suiyu, Yan Buzhuo leaned closer and continued, “Have you heard the poem, ‘The human face and the peach blossoms reflect each other in red’? That is exactly how you looked that day.”

For an ancient person, his words and actions were truly quite offensive.

Calmly retracting his hair, Ruan Suiyu lowered his eyes and said coldly, “I am not like the young Marquis, full of youthful spirit. Those vibrant colors suit the young Marquis much better.”

By now, the carriage had swayed its way to the outskirts of the capital and stopped. After finishing his sentence, Ruan Suiyu jumped off the carriage without so much as glancing at Yan Buzhuo.

Seeing this, Yan Buzhuo was stunned.

In his mind, Ruan Suiyu was a stubborn, even somewhat pedantic gentleman. Getting off the carriage without a word was inconsistent with his character.

Calling out to the System in his mind, Yan Buzhuo pouted, his voice full of innocence: “System, what is wrong with him? Why is he getting angry for no reason?”

Seeing him like this, 888 flew out to lean on his shoulder and replied: [You flirted with him; did you expect him to give you a kind look?]

Hearing this, Yan Buzhuo’s face turned bright red. “W-what are you talking about? When did I flirt with him?!”

[You were flirting with him just now.]

Having experienced the previous world with Lu Xun, 888 was quite open-minded about hosts falling in love with their mission targets. Gently patting Yan Buzhuo with its wing, 888 said with all seriousness: [Host, it is fine to fall in love with your target, but you must be sincere. You cannot act like a rake.]

Hearing this, Yan Buzhuo’s face flushed even deeper. He practically shouted in his mind, “What nonsense are you spouting! I am a straight man!”

After saying this, Yan Buzhuo did not want to offer further explanations, feeling that he would only make things worse. Flipping his hair back, he hurried off the carriage as well.

Once he stepped down and looked at the surrounding fields, Yan Buzhuo froze.

As far as the eye could see, the fields were barren. The livelihood of the people was withered, with only a few old farmers resting at a roadside tea stall.

In the days since he had transmigrated, Yan Buzhuo had stayed within the capital. He had never left the city, and thus could not have imagined that the scene outside would be like this.

Clearly, they were in the same city; inside the gates, the streets were filled with peach blossoms; how could there be such desolation just a few miles outside?

[Host, this is the true Great Zhou.]

Clenching his palms until his fingernails dug into his skin, Yan Buzhuo’s eyes were filled with confusion. “On the day the results were posted, the streets were filled with splendor. Those celebrating scholars, do they know the scene outside the city is like this?”

The System did not answer, but a crisp, clear voice reached Yan Buzhuo’s ears: “Our scholars enter the civil service for the very purpose of changing this state of affairs.”

“I, Suiyu, am untalented. I cannot defend the borders or repel enemies like the Marquis of Yongjia, but a true gentleman’s ambition should be to bring prosperity to the people.”

Hearing this, Yan Buzhuo looked deep into Ruan Suiyu’s eyes, finding them as clear and bottomless as a pool of water.

He sighed softly and was about to speak when he heard the old farmers at the tea stall suddenly lament.

Their voices were like the wind, light and thin, but they sent a chill through Yan Buzhuo’s entire body. “Sigh… this year the continuous rain has made the harvest poor, and the taxes from above just keep piling up. They are squeezing the very oil from the bones of us commoners!”

“You say the Tongtian Pavilion is built magnificently, but that is not something we, the common folk, can ever see!”

“Everyone, mind your words! Have you forgotten the Sun family’s youngest son? He complained about the recent taxes and was beaten to death by the magistrate! We cannot say a single word against the Tongtian Pavilion!”

‘Tongtian Pavilion’, ‘taxes’; these words struck Yan Buzhuo’s mind like lightning. He looked sharply at Ruan Suiyu, only to see the latter had already lowered his eyes.

His demeanor made it clear that he was not ignorant of these matters.

A wave of doubt washed over him. Yan Buzhuo looked back at the thin, stooped farmers at the tea stall, and the System’s voice echoed in his ears: [I found it, Host. The records remaining after the fall of the Great Zhou were burned to ashes by the Tatars, but 888 found one line: ‘In the eighth year of Huangxing, the Tongtian Pavilion was completed, and the whole nation celebrated…’]

“Celebrated? Who is celebrating?”

A surge of anger churned in Yan Buzhuo’s heart. He looked at the old farmers in the distance and questioned, “Is it the grieving commoners who are being beaten to death that are celebrating? Or is it the soldiers fighting and bleeding on the borders?”

No wonder… no wonder no one in the imperial court questioned this. No wonder the Ministry of Revenue’s ledgers looked so perfectly balanced.

So, they all knew. They knew exactly where this money, the money scraped from the bones of the people, the money that should have sustained the border soldiers, was really going.

The King of Wu’s banquet ends, the palace is drunk; at twilight, the drifting flowers leave the city.

With hindsight, Yan Buzhuo remembered the poems he could not memorize as a child. So, those poets had written them with such feelings.

Yan Buzhuo grew up in an enlightened and free era. In his experience, it was impossible for such things to happen: treating the people like blades of grass and ignoring the safety of the nation for the sake of one’s own selfish desires.

The current state of the Great Zhou was so unjust, so repulsive.

Taking a large stride, Yan Buzhuo headed toward the old farmers. Seeing this, Ruan Suiyu hurriedly grabbed his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“I am going to ask them to write these things down. I am going to impeach those people!”

“Are you insane?!” Ruan Suiyu’s voice rose. “The construction of the Tongtian Pavilion is a matter everyone tacitly understands. You want to impeach them? As the young heir to the Marquis of Yongjia, you might be safe, but what about these commoners? Are you trying to get them killed?!”

Hearing this, a sense of immense absurdity rose in Yan Buzhuo’s heart. “So what? Do we just do nothing?! You heard them! Listen to what the commoners are saying! Think about the soldiers at the borders!”

“Young Master! I know, I know everything. That is precisely why I came to investigate the case with you.”

Hearing this, Yan Buzhuo grabbed Ruan Suiyu’s wrist. “Since you know, you should stand with me. We will submit a petition together to impeach the royal relatives in charge of the Ministry of Works and the Ministry of Revenue!”

“Young Master.” Gently shaking off Yan Buzhuo’s hand, Ruan Suiyu’s voice sounded exhausted. “You must understand that the Tongtian Pavilion was built by him. If you submit a petition to impeach the Ministry of Works, you are aiming directly at the Emperor’s majesty. With the border crisis so urgent, if this causes turmoil in the court and leads to both internal and external crises, who will defend the Great Zhou dynasty then?”

“Little Marquis!” Ruan Suiyu’s voice grew louder. “The priority now is to find a way to secure enough provisions for the soldiers on the front lines!”

“Secure them? You secure them today, but what about tomorrow? Without rooting out the cause, there will never be peace! Do you intend to beg for grain for the rest of your life?!”

Yan Buzhuo was so angry he could have laughed. “Ruan Qinghe, you speak constantly of the state and the people, but look at you now; how is your current behavior any different from abetting a villain?!”

In Ruan Suiyu’s eyes, Yan Buzhuo, whose eyes were red with agitation, looked like a mantis trying to shake a tree. He was so naive he resembled a child who had never experienced the world.

Naive ideals are dazzling, but they are also ill-timed.

Taking a deep breath, Ruan Suiyu’s voice sank. “If that is the case, then please tell me, how do we remove the root cause? Is it through your status as the Heir of Yongjia, or through my memorial as a seventh-rank censor? You should know, if you insist on dragging these commoners to testify today, attempting to shake the construction of the Tongtian Pavilion with that, then tomorrow, the Emperor’s desk will be piled high with memorials impeaching the Marquis of Yongjia’s estate for colluding with troublemakers and slandering the Imperial court!”

His voice was cold, carrying the weight of cruel reality. “It is not as if no one has tried these things! But what was the result? The construction of the Tongtian Pavilion is still going full steam ahead! You have the world at heart, and I admire that! But you must know that there are things that are feasible and things that are not. When your wings are not yet fully grown, do not act like a mantis trying to block a chariot.”

After saying this, Ruan Suiyu sighed lightly. Without looking at him, he bowed to Yan Buzhuo with detachment. “I must now go and do what is feasible: raise the provisions. Farewell, Heir Yan.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Ruan Suiyu turned and walked toward the outskirts. His white robes caught a bit of dust as they fluttered in the wind; his silhouette appeared thin and isolated, yet held a resilience like a piece of green bamboo.

Yan Buzhuo stood rooted to the spot, watching Ruan Suiyu’s figure slowly disappear around the bend of the road.

After a long while, Yan Buzhuo asked in a muffled voice, “System? Was he just calling me reckless and overestimating myself?”

Talking about mantises and chariots, about what is feasible and what is not; was that not exactly what he was doing?

In that moment, Yan Buzhuo was left speechless. Yet, upon reflection, he had to admit that Ruan Suiyu was right.

This was not the 21st century. It was not as if a simple petition would have any effect; if he ended up causing a scandal, he might even harm those commoners instead.

The Great Zhou was a place of one-man rule, and Liang Heng was the pinnacle of that power. He wanted to build this pavilion to display his authority; who could say a word against it?

His heart pounded wildly, and Yan Buzhuo felt full of trepidation.

For the first time, he realized with chilling clarity that he was not just fighting a few corrupt officials; he was fighting the systemic rot of an entire era.

And he was far from being the hero in a storybook capable of turning the tides. He seemed to be nothing more than an insignificant mayfly in the rushing torrent.

“System,” his voice was hoarse and low, his spirit completely dejected, “is there really nothing I can do?”

[…]

888 did not know how to comfort a boy who had received such a blow. It flew in front of Yan Buzhuo and gently rubbed against his face.

[Host! You were chosen by the Main System! You must believe in yourself!]

The mechanical, electrified voice somehow managed to convey a rare touch of tenderness.