The County Magistrate Isn’t a Scumbag—She’s Very A - Chapter 6

“A page?”

Song Boxue stared blankly. What did she mean by that?

Then, the realization slowly dawned on her. All that concern from Jiang Fanyin had been a long, roundabout way of positioning herself by Song Boxue’s side. Moving about in men’s clothing would make her actions much more convenient. Right, convenience.

Naturally, the answer was yes. Giving the female lead a convenience was, in a way, providing one for herself.

She looked steadily at Jiang Fanyin. “Is Sister Jiang willing to be my page?”

Meeting Song Boxue’s earnest gaze, Jiang Fanyin felt a faint prickle of unease, as if her intentions had been seen through. She remained silent for a heartbeat before nodding quietly. This was indeed her aim. Even if she was exposed, she had to take things one step at a time; with her father imprisoned, she could no longer afford to wait.

Having secured an answer, Song Boxue sized her up. They were of similar height, both around 1.7 meters; with platform shoes, they could pass for average-height men. In terms of silhouette, Jiang Fanyin was elegantly curved, unlike

Song Boxue’s own overly slender frame. Despite this, the girl was already wearing a chest binder.

Song Boxue stood up. “Sister Jiang, change into a set of clothes first and let’s see.” She pulled a set of the original host’s casual robes from the wardrobe and handed Jiang Fanyin a long strip of white cloth.

Jiang Fanyin took the items, but when she saw the cloth, she paused. Her eyes instinctively flickered toward Song Boxue’s chest. No wonder she looks so flat.

Song Boxue felt inexplicably judged. She rolled her eyes. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

Honestly, as if I don’t have them too. I’m just bound tight; I’m not actually that flat.

When Jiang Fanyin finally emerged in the new outfit, Song Boxue stared at her chest for a few seconds and felt a quiet pang of defeat. It seemed she really couldn’t compete. Jiang Fanyin also sensed something was off, even though she had wrapped herself as tightly as possible.

Song Boxue puffed out her own chest slightly. “That’s just genetics. Wrap it a bit tighter, and remember to keep your voice low and pressed.”

Since she had the original host’s memories, Song Boxue had inherited years of masculine mannerisms and a voice habitually lowered to an ambiguous pitch. Jiang Fanyin, however, was a different story. This was going to be difficult.

Jiang Fanyin pursed her lips and tried to speak. “Very well.”

The tone was deep and resonant, yet it carried a strange, melodic vibration.

Song Boxue sighed. “In the future, try to speak as little as possible in front of outsiders.”

That wasn’t “pressing her voice to sound like a man”—that was “violating the rules of physics by being too pleasant.” It sounded more seductive than masculine. Truly, only Song Boxue herself was naturally gifted at this.

Jiang Fanyin bit her lip and fell silent. The situation wasn’t as simple as she had imagined.

Seeing her discouraged, Song Boxue comforted her, “Don’t worry, you’ll get better with practice. Take these sets of clothes for now. I’ll call for you before we head to the office tomorrow.”

Whatever the female lead was planning, Song Boxue had to cooperate—and she was happy to do so. This was the key to saving her legs. What a mess, she thought. Once I clean up the original host’s disasters, I’m resigning and getting out of here.

Jiang Fanyin lowered her eyes. “Thank you.” She then picked up the clothes and left.

Song Boxue let a small smile play on her lips. A good start. The female lead had thanked her, so there shouldn’t be any lingering resentment, right? After all, she hadn’t ruined the girl’s virtue like the original host; she had only stolen a few kisses.

But when the next heat cycle arrived, would she really have to kiss the female lead again?

Song Boxue’s expression slowly crumbled. She might have celebrated too early.

The next day, the two arrived at the front hall together. After Advisor Zhou bowed to Song Boxue, he glanced at Jiang Fanyin. “This young master is?”

A young master? He was certainly remarkably fair-faced.

Song Boxue glanced at Jiang Fanyin and introduced her: “This is my page, surnamed Jiang.” Jiang Fanyin had intentionally pulled her collar high and applied powder to her neck; unless someone looked very closely, the marks were invisible.

“Greetings, Master Jiang.” Advisor Zhou narrowed his eyes. A page dressed like that? Moreover, the surname was Jiang. Did the Magistrate think he didn’t know there was a Miss Jiang staying at the residence? Young people certainly knew how to play, he thought. But he knew better than to speak the truth aloud, so he tactfully led the way.

Song Boxue and Jiang Fanyin exchanged a look, both thinking the same thing: The page’s outfit needs to be more low-profile. We need to order some new clothes.

Once they reached the Second Hall, Advisor Zhou brought up the old business. “Excellency, will Young Master Wang’s case continue to be delayed?”

You’ve already taken the man’s money; you can’t just do nothing. What a greedy, incompetent fool, Zhou thought.

The case?

Song Boxue thought of the banknotes the original host had pocketed and felt a headache coming on. “I have my own plans. You may go, Advisor Zhou.”

The original host had only been in office for a month and dealt with Zhou the most. However, from her memories, Squire Wang hadn’t forgotten to bribe the Advisor either, and the man had pocketed the silver without a word. Song Boxue categorized Zhou as being cut from the same cloth as the original host—not a good person and definitely not to be trusted.

Advisor Zhou bowed his head and withdrew.

Song Boxue turned to Jiang Fanyin. “Let’s go to the cells and see that Miss Liu.”

Jiang Fanyin nodded. She didn’t ask who Miss Liu was; she would find out soon enough. Song Boxue raised an eyebrow at her silence. Once in character, the female lead was all eyes and no talk. It saved her from having to explain everything.

As they walked toward the county jail, Song Boxue resolved to settle the case quickly. She couldn’t let the title of “corrupt official” stick to her.

The head jailer, hearing she wanted to interrogate Liu Erniang, immediately hauled the girl out and sent her to the “Fire Cell”—the interrogation chamber.

Song Boxue and Jiang Fanyin stood in the chamber, eyeing the various torture devices. It was an eye-opener. The county jail was divided into three levels: the “Earth Cell” for minor offenders, the “Fire Cell” for torture and interrogation, and the “Water Cell” for high-risk and death-row inmates.

The jailer, misunderstanding her intent, assumed she wanted to torture the girl and strapped her to a wooden post. “Excellency, which one should we use first?”

A row of horrific tools was laid out, looking quite formidable.

Song Boxue wanted to just tell them to release her, but fearing she would break character, she waved them off. “Everyone out. I shall interrogate her alone.”

The jailer glanced at the motionless Jiang Fanyin. Assuming “Master Jiang” was the Magistrate’s trusted confidant, he and the other guards withdrew.

Song Boxue finally approached Liu Erniang. At the same time, she began to see where Young Master Wang’s malice had come from. The girl was stunning, even in tattered rags. Tied to the post, her expression remained unchanged—clearly a stubborn soul who didn’t fear authority.

Internally, Song Boxue cursed the original host for aiding a tyrant. She cleared her throat. “Miss Liu, I have a question.”

“Ptooie! You dog official, may you die a miserable death! Don’t think you can beat a confession out of me. I’d rather die than admit to a crime I didn’t commit.” Liu Erniang spat, a flash of grim satisfaction in her eyes.

Song Boxue froze in place. Lady, you don’t have to be this fierce!!

Beside her, Jiang Fanyin silently took two steps back and continued to watch the scene play out.

Recovering, Song Boxue hurriedly wiped her face with her sleeve. She lowered her voice. “Miss Liu, you’d best be honest. I have little patience. Tell me your grievances quickly.”

She had actually been spat on! This was absolutely preposterous.

Liu Erniang looked up. The young Magistrate was vigorously wiping her face, and the look in her eyes didn’t seem fake. She sneered. “Grievances? Stop trying to trick me. If you want to use torture, then use it. Spare me the mind games.”

Despite her words, a tiny sliver of hope remained in her heart—a hope that this corrupt official might actually clear her name. But the memory of Young Master Wang being released on the spot made her eyes dim again. She didn’t care if she died, but her elderly grandmother.

Thinking of her grandmother, Liu Erniang’s sorrow finally broke through her bravado. She began to cry, the fear of a young girl finally showing.

Song Boxue was stunned. What had she even done? Why was the girl crying?

She looked at Jiang Fanyin, but Jiang Fanyin kept her eyes forward, continuing her role as a human statue.

Song Boxue felt a knot in her chest. “Miss Liu, I am asking you: what evidence do you have that Young Master Wang was the one who robbed you?”

Liu Erniang ignored her and continued to sob, her cries becoming more heart-wrenching by the second.

Song Boxue’s face darkened. Where did that composed little girl go? She glanced at Jiang Fanyin and said with a stern face, “Go fetch the branding iron. If she keeps crying, sear her face with it.”

If you’re going to just watch the play, I’ll give you a part in it.

Jiang Fanyin’s expression stiffened. She pursed her lips, picked up the branding iron, and walked over.

Seeing this, Liu Erniang suddenly lunged forward as far as the restraints allowed, wailing, “Go ahead and burn it! This face caused all my troubles anyway. Burn it off!”