Chapter 45: An Implicit Existence Part 3

Before he finished, the second sedan opened. A thin, elderly man stepped out.

His hair and beard were snow-white, and his pace was unhurried. It was Lord Zhang, the Censor-in-Chief—the very man who had mentored Nie Jin and promoted him to his current post.

Nie Jin stared at him, the veins on the back of his hand bulging as he gripped the reins. It was blindingly obvious why Lord Zhang was here.

The old man walked up slowly. Looking at Nie Jin, he said, “This is a matter of great importance. You needn’t concern yourself further. Hand him over to the Court of State Ceremonies.”

He turned his gaze to the shackled Wu Wei. “If a small matter triggers a war between two nations…”

Nie Jin’s eyes swept over the wreckage on the street—the crushed fruit, the overturned stalls, the bloodstains of unknown origin. If this was the state of the capital, he couldn’t help but ask with a cold sneer, “A small matter?”

Lord Zhang replied impassively, “If this isn’t handled properly, it will affect the entire empire. You are a court official; you cannot only look at the justice of a single corner.”

Nie Jin acted as if he hadn’t heard, signaling his men to return to the Court of Judicial Review.

Lord Zhang’s brow furrowed. He pulled the Censorate waist token from his sleeve. “The Court of Judicial Review is under the jurisdiction of the Censorate.”

He turned to the lictors, his voice suddenly harsh. “Release him!”

The lictors looked at Nie Jin in confusion and distress.

Lord Zhang sighed, looking at Nie Jin with a heavy, meaningful tone. “You aren’t afraid of breaking the law, but they are.”

“Those who defy orders: one hundred strokes of the cane, stripped of status, and three thousand miles of exile.”

“You don’t care for your own life, but do you not care for theirs?”

Nie Jin’s Adam’s apple rolled violently, as if a blade were turning in his throat.

The lictors looked at one another, their hands on the chains trembling slightly. Someone whispered, “Master…”

The tone was one of hesitation and a plea they couldn’t bring themselves to voice.

Nie Jin slowly closed his eyes. Beneath his official robes, his shoulders slumped as if his spine had been forcibly removed.

“Release him.”

The words squeezed through his teeth, carrying the heavy scent of blood.

The chains hit the ground with a clatter.

Wu Wei threw his head back and laughed, barking out a few filthy Liao phrases. The translator, drenched in cold sweat, didn’t dare translate them.

The crowd exploded.

The commoners had seen Wu Wei kidnap a woman and beat people. They had seen him trample over an old man like a dead dog. They had also seen Master Nie take him down and enforce the law in the street—he was right there, being taken away!

Yet, after two sedans and one waist token, the chains were dropped. The criminal was free.

“Two high-ranking officials in purple robes came just to pick up a barbarian!”

“Our Great Chen official robes are nothing but a pardon for Eastern Liao dogs!”

“The Censorate, the Court of State Ceremonies… every single one of them is a damn dog official!”

A woman holding a child suddenly rushed forward, pointing at Nie Jin and crying out, “My husband’s leg was broken by their horse! You’re just letting him go?”

“Aren’t you the ‘Honorable Nie’, the ‘Iron-Faced Judge’?”

The people didn’t hate Nie Jin; they hated this corrupt protectionism and a government that gave them no hope. But Nie Jin became the outlet for their fury.

The two high officials stood before him. Nie Jin, who had sat imposing on his horse, now dismounted. Expressionless, he led his horse by the reins and walked slowly through the crowd.

He let the spittle of the angry people hit his face without a word.

As Wu Wei passed, he intentionally slammed his shoulder into Nie Jin, laughing hysterically. He barked something at the translator.

The translator fell to his knees, kowtowing repeatedly. “Mercy, Master… I truly don’t dare translate that…”

In the sedan at the corner, Wei Qingya’s face was grim. With a crack, he crushed the jade dice in his hand.

“Master,” the manager said cautiously, “it’s a good thing you left that filthy bureaucracy long ago…”

“Indeed.” Wei Qingya suddenly began to laugh, sounding genuinely amused. “Running a gambling house brings in gold every day. It’s much more satisfying than being an official.”

The manager joined in with a fawning smile. “Master is the wealthiest man in the capital now. Why bother with this muddy water?”

“Exactly.”

Wei Qingya used his thumb to wipe a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye. Only when he brought his hand back did he see that the shards of jade had sliced his palm. His hand was drenched in blood.

Night fell, and the Eastern Liao embassy was lit as brightly as day.

The scent of wine mixed with the fragrance of powder wafted through the window slits. Wu Wei held a dancing girl by the waist, laughing boisterously. He shouted in his own tongue, “Tomorrow, I’m going to skin that Chen dog in the middle of the street!”

The servants of the embassy kept their heads low, none daring to look up.

The water clock dripped past the third watch. The laughter faded.

The next morning, when the servants pushed open the hall doors, they found wine vessels overturned and curtains hanging in disarray—

Wu Wei was gone.

The two warriors who accompanied him were also gone.

There were no signs of a struggle. No sounds of a fight. Not even a single drop of blood remained.

The Court of State Ceremonies searched every inch of the embassy, but not even a scrap of cloth was found.

Inside the heavily guarded and monitored embassy, an official envoy of Eastern Liao had simply vanished into thin air.

The news spread, and the court was in an uproar.

Some were terrified, some speculated, but none dared to speak the truth aloud.

Everyone knew in their hearts—

In this capital, there was only one person who could make someone vanish without a trace.

That Prime Minister.

No one saw him act. No one heard him give an order. But everyone knew it was him.