Chapter 91: Oh my God! Officials and thieves collude, and (1 / 2)

“You…” The county magistrate’s wife took a deep breath and scolded, “Still dreaming of having two wives? Why not dream of ascending to heaven while you’re at it? Look at yourself! Are you worthy? Even the locksmith at the village entrance is a better match than you!”

And if the truth came out about this fraud, who would the family estate go to? Who would be buried in the ancestral tomb? Let alone the fact that this man was a fraud!

The county magistrate was utterly bewildered by her words. “My lady, you…” Was this still his frail and gentle wife?

Noticing the astonished looks from several officials, the magistrate’s wife paused. Then, like a delicate willow swaying in the wind, she knelt down dramatically, bursting into tears. She sobbed so heart-wrenchingly that it seemed she could not even take care of herself.

But her words were articulate and precise: “Your Majesty, though my late husband passed away from illness, his body was discarded who knows where by this man. What identity was he buried under? For five years, he may have wandered as a lonely ghost, unrecognized and without offerings. No wonder I’ve had restless nights and shallow sleep all these years—surely it was my late husband appearing in my dreams to deliver a message I couldn’t understand…”

Translation: Your Majesty, he may not have killed anyone, but he stole another man’s identity, leaving that man without a proper burial or offerings. I have no part in his crimes. I’ve even lost sleep over this matter!

She couldn’t allow this criminal to drag her or her children down with him.

Though her complexion was radiant and her eyes lacked dark circles, suggesting her claim of sleepless nights might be false, the Emperor—a stubbornly traditional man—was moved by her performance.

What was this? A frail official’s wife, taken advantage of, still prioritizing her betrothed husband over five years of shared life with the fraudster?

Good! Faithful and virtuous!

The Emperor turned to the senior censor. “What is the punishment for fraudulent officials?”

The senior censor responded promptly, “Such an individual, falsely claiming an official post and stealing another’s identity, not only deceives people but undermines justice. According to precedent, he should be exiled to a remote region and serve as a laborer.”

After a brief pause, the censor added, “His wife, unaware of his crimes, and their children, are not culpable and should not be punished.”

The magistrate’s wife gently pressed a hand to her forehead, sighing delicately. Her eyes shimmered like dewy lychees as she murmured, “Many thanks to this honorable official for speaking up for justice.”

I’m so delicate. Truly, I’m incredibly delicate!

In contrast, the fraudulent magistrate, kneeling nearby, appeared as robust as a mountain bandit, drawing no sympathy at all.

He kowtowed frantically. “Your Majesty, please have mercy! I acted impulsively. The deceased man’s features bore some resemblance to mine, down to the same mole on our faces—though he was plumper, and I thinner. After his death, I became possessed and stole his credentials to take office…”

If questioned about discrepancies, he could always claim that losing weight had altered his appearance. Most people wouldn’t overthink it.

“But in all these years, I’ve lived in constant fear of exposure. I have never engaged in corruption, nor have I abused my authority. I worked diligently, if not treating the people as my own children, at least avoiding oppressive governance. I beg Your Majesty for clemency!”

The senior censor interjected sternly, his expression full of righteous anger. “Does this mean that after a magistrate dies, his successor must inevitably be a tyrant?

“When the former magistrate of Xingyang County passed, it was the Ministry of Appointments’ duty to assign a replacement. That replacement could have been a hardworking middle-aged scholar or an elder waiting years for an official post. But because this man usurped the position, they were left waiting indefinitely!”

He stepped forward, his tone sharp. “If this man is spared, what’s to stop others from lying in ambush, murdering officials, and stealing their credentials to claim their positions?”

Suddenly, a voice chimed in—disruptive and brimming with mischief. It was Xu Yanmiao: [“Why not just organize a deathmatch every three years? Whoever survives gets to hold office!”]

The censor: “….”

He struggled to suppress the digression and continued. “We must ensure that such frauds are punished according to the law, so as to deter others from similar schemes!”

The fraudulent magistrate trembled on the ground, awaiting the Emperor’s judgment.

The Emperor listened quietly to the censor’s words, nodding slightly. At that very moment, the fraudulent magistrate’s vision darkened, and just before fainting, he heard the Emperor declare, “What you say is correct. Let justice prevail.”

The fraudulent magistrate collapsed, but his cook-turned-wife remained upright, her face full of complicated emotions.

The Emperor issued follow-up orders: “Locate the original Xingyang County magistrate, return him to his ancestral land, and give him a proper burial. If he has living relatives, allocate funds to assist them. The Ministry of Appointments will send a new magistrate to Xingyang County.”

What the Emperor didn’t reveal was his intention to leave part of the secret police to observe the new magistrate. If they oppressed the people, they would be replaced again—there was no shortage of aspiring officials in the empire.

The officials all bowed deeply. “Your Majesty is wise!”

The magistrate’s wife then summoned her courage. “Your Majesty, if I may ask, where will this man be sent for exile?”

The Emperor named a location, and her expression lit up.

Three months later, the fraudulent magistrate and his “wife” reunited in a small frontier town.

Her uncle, a local commander, brought her before the fraudulent magistrate. “Niece, take it easy—don’t kill him. Though if you do, I’ll find an excuse to cover it up.”@@novelbin@@

The magistrate’s wife bowed slightly. “Thank you, Uncle.”

She was the daughter of a military officer. Her father, though of modest rank, could easily handle minor adversaries. Her uncle, a trusted family ally, had promptly invited her to settle scores upon learning her fraudulent husband had been sent to his territory.

The fraudulent magistrate shivered. “You… What do you want to do?”

Before she could reply, the dozen robust servants accompanying her pounced like wolves, raining heavy blows upon him.

The magistrate’s wife exclaimed, “What are you doing? Stop immediately!”

The fraudulent magistrate’s eyes gleamed with hope.

But under his hopeful gaze, she daintily dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief and turned away, tears falling as she said, “Just drag him out and continue beating him. I have a kind heart and can’t bear to watch this.”

Soon, a man with a face swollen like a pig’s head was dragged back.

The magistrate’s wife crouched down, patted his face, and smiled. “Do you remember Yun Niang, Qin Jie’er, and Su Ge’er?”

Yun Niang was his original wife; Qin Jie’er and Su Ge’er were the children she bore him.

His heart sank. “What do you intend to do to them?”

The magistrate’s wife smiled faintly, patting his face again. “Oh, nothing much. I just wanted to comfort Yun Niang. I told her that since you were once a cook, you could still cook for me if she doesn’t mind. Four taels of silver per year, with food and lodging included. Now that she keeps all four taels for herself instead of giving you two, she’s quite cheerful. As for your children, they hardly remember you since you rarely came home for five years. They’re happily playing with windmills and dolls their mother bought them.”

The fraudulent magistrate spat out blood. “I don’t believe you!”

She straightened her sleeves and replied nonchalantly, “Believe it or not, it’s the truth.”

Her marriage to him had originally been to honor an old betrothal agreement—a drunken promise between families. After this ordeal, her father had spent three days slapping himself, swearing never to interfere in her remarriage again.

In the Daxia Empire, widows were free to remarry, even multiple times. Some had remarried six times, with the sixth marriage as an official’s wife. Others, having borne children in their first marriage, became concubines to princes in their second.

The magistrate’s wife glanced down at the beaten man. She idly wiped her hands with a handkerchief. If anything, she owed this revelation her thanks.