Nie Jin reached out and took one. He was immediately struck by a pungent medicinal smell. Not only had the clothes been soaked in some kind of medicinal wash, but a strip of indigo cloth was sewn into the lining, with “Ding-Wei 73” written in ink—looking exactly like a tag for livestock.
“Does this gentleman wish to receive a coat?” a clerk asked with a squint. “Go queue over there first.”
Nie Jin remained expressionless, asking in a matter-of-fact tone, “If the court is providing relief, why choose a busy market? And what is the meaning of the blue border?”
Seeing that his clothes were not ordinary and his face was stern, the clerk answered with a bit more patience. “Our manager set the rules. Once you take these clothes, you cannot enter a restaurant or tavern for three months! Look how obvious that blue border is; a waiter would recognize it at a glance!”
Absurd!
Nie Jin’s face grew cold. What kind of relief was this? It was clearly treating the refugees like thieves!
The distribution point wasn’t at the local government office but here at the busy Baoci Temple entrance. A large banner reading “Three Days of Relief” hung there, with four attendants loudly maintaining order, demanding people register in line—the scale was massive. It was far too insulting to the refugees.
Seeing him stand there in silence, the clerk waved his register to drive him away. “Move aside! Don’t delay the distribution—”
“The Court of Judicial Review is handling a case.”
Nie Jin pulled a dark ebony tablet from his robe and flashed it before the clerk’s eyes. The black tablet had gold characters: “Chief Justice Nie of the Court of Judicial Review.” It gleamed coldly in the sunlight.
The clerk’s face turned deathly pale, and his knees buckled.
Nie Jin tucked the tablet away. “This official wishes to see the manager here.”
How could the clerk dare refuse? Everyone in the capital knew the name of the “Iron-Faced Judge.” Legend had it that when he drew his blade to question a case, even a Prince would lose a layer of skin. The officials said he only believed in the law and not in human sentiment; if you crossed him, it was one blade and one stick of incense—life or death was up to heaven.
The clerk led the way tremblingly. Several plainclothes officers of the Court of Judicial Review emerged from the crowd, stripping off their outer layers to reveal their black uniforms and soap-cloth boots, following Nie Jin in silence.
The group followed the clerk into an elegant private residence.
The clerk said with a miserable face at the door, “Master Plum, Master Nie of the Court of Judicial Review wishes to see you!”
There was a silence for a long moment inside before a voice as clear as a jade chime rang out: “Please.”
The clerk carefully pushed the door open. Nie Jin stepped inside, his officers following with their hands on their hilts.
A wave of heat hit them. Seven or eight charcoal stoves were burning in the room. That “Master Plum” sat behind a desk, a snow-colored mink fur draped over his thin shoulders. The gold silk tassels hanging from his crown swayed slightly as he lifted his head.
Nie Jin clearly heard several gasps from behind him.
A clatter sounded as someone’s waist-saber actually hit the floor.
Master Plum remained unruffled, his gaze sweeping over Nie Jin. “I have long heard of Master Nie’s great fame. Seeing you today, you are indeed extraordinary.”
Only then did Nie Jin realize he had been staring at the other man in a daze. He immediately looked away, only to see that his men were all standing there like wooden statues, their faces flushed with embarrassment and confusion.
Master Plum seemed long accustomed to such scenes. He gestured with his arm. “Gentlemen, please sit. Serve tea.”
Nie Jin shook his head coldly, standing with his hands behind his back. “There is no need for tea. The Court of Judicial Review is questioning a case; we do not need empty pleasantries.”
He tilted his head, and a subordinate immediately stepped forward, unrolling a sheet of rice paper. His brush was already dipped in ink.
“Record.”
The atmosphere in the room tightened. Master Plum looked at the unrolled paper. According to the rules of the Court, every word of a questioning was recorded. He raised an eyebrow slightly. “May I ask Master Nie, what crime have I committed?”
Nie Jin was there to argue exactly that. He asked bluntly, “What is your position under Gu Yu?”
Hearing the Chancellor’s name, Master Plum’s brows rose even higher. He countered, “What does Master Nie think I do?”
Nie Jin remained expressionless, his voice as hard as iron. “According to the Penal Code, Volume Seven, Article Thirteen, the suspect must answer truthfully.”
Master Plum: “…”
What a boring man.
He stared at Nie Jin for a moment before suddenly smiling. He said truthfully, “I manage everything. I suppose I am the general manager?”
Nie Jin nodded. “Record.”
The subordinate wrote it down.
Nie Jin spoke again, his eyes as sharp as blades. “Are you aware that the cotton used for the relief clothes here was not approved by the Ministry of Works, not reported to the Three Departments, and not processed by the Ministry of Revenue?”
Master Plum nodded slightly. “I am.”
Nie Jin had been waiting for that word. He pressed on aggressively, “Knowing the law and breaking it—the crime is increased by one degree.”
Master Plum had been leaning back in his chair, but hearing this, his eyes lit up. He suddenly sat up straight and asked with visible anticipation, “Is Master Nie going to arrest me?”
There was no ripple on Nie Jin’s face as he replied coldly, “This official has come only to investigate the truth, not to pass judgment.”
“If the case is true, the verdict will be decided according to the regulations, and the Judicial Department will handle it.”
Master Plum propped his chin lazily on one hand, his gaze slowly tracing over the other man. “I heard that when Lord Nie interrogates court officials, he begins by administering thirty strokes of the heavy rod.”
