Chapter 122: Fabricated Charges

Chapter 122: Fabricated Charges

Feng Huang shouted in a stern voice, "Audacious mad student! Do you know what crime it is to slander a court-appointed official?!"

"Of course I know; I have no need for Lord Feng to remind me." Wu Gong's expression remained calm.

"Since you know full well, you still dare to offend! Wu Gong, this adds another degree to your guilt!"

Gu Xi sneered coldly, "According to the Great Ming Code, your Sequence identity shall be stripped, you shall be reduced to a common criminal, exiled beyond the Empire's heartland, never to return!"

"Hold on, you two, don't be so quick to pin hats on my head!"

Facing the challenge from Feng Huang and Gu Xi, Wu Gong still spoke leisurely, "There is a saying that goes well: 'If you want no one to know, you must not do it yourself.'"

"How utterly absurd! I, Gu Xi, conduct myself with upright integrity. If you wish to compete with me, then come forth and openly compare the Six Arts, compare virtue, compare merit!"

Gu Xi's expression was disdainful, "Spewing blood from your mouth, biting wildly—are you even worthy of the identity of a Confucian scholar?"

"If openly practicing bribery counts as virtue and merit, then I gladly concede. As for comparing the Six Arts—"

Wu Gong's gaze was haughty, "To speak words that disgrace the literati, are you, Gu Xi, even worthy?"

Even among fellow Ru Eight, there were distinctions of high and low.

Wu Gong's strength in the Six Arts was indeed a few points stronger than his own.

This was something Gu Xi knew perfectly well in his heart.

But so what?

One must understand that entering officialdom does not look at Sequence strength alone; family background, aptitude and potential, conduct and merit—none can be missing.

If a pair of fists alone could make one a high official with a fat salary, one might as well learn from those barbarous warriors, set up a stage, and see whose fist is hardest.

Why would the court still bother with assessments and selections, or even need to hold imperial examinations?

The height of an official's Sequence rank does not play a decisive role in the Great Ming Empire's promotion system.

Although one of the Confucian Sequence's promotion rituals is 'becoming an appointed official'.

Yet in the imperial court, there is no necessary connection between high office and high Sequence.

Phenomena like 'low Sequence, high office' or 'high Sequence, low office' are commonplace.

Someone in the New Donglin Party once offered an explanation, claiming that conquering the realm relies on "Force," while governing the realm relies on "Rite."

Those with "Force" do not necessarily have "Rite"; therefore, the selection of officials should prioritize "Rite" and use "Force" as a supplement.

These words sounded magnificent and righteous, but anyone with eyes knew this was merely one of the many ills caused by Confucian aristocratic clans occupying the court.

Fools occupy high positions; heroes have no door to serve the nation.

Scholars of poor origin, even if they enter officialdom via the imperial examinations, if someone chokes off their path to promotion, can just as easily sever their Sequence path.

As for those scions of great clans and powerful families, barely come of age, someone has already prepared cushy posts for them.

They need only wait for their Six Arts proficiency to arrive, and Sequence advancement follows naturally like water finding its channel.

And those 'commoners' who picked the wrong faction—either they must painstakingly switch allegiances, or they can only walk the path of studying at a Confucian Academy.

To emulate the sages, write books and establish doctrines, found a school. To push Confucian doctrine a step further up the hundred-foot pole.

But the difficulty therein exceeds the imperial examinations by who knows how many times.

If entering officialdom is a broad highway, the Academy is a narrow path.

Its difficulty is like climbing to heaven.

"Wu Gong, what audacity! Time and again, you slander this official!"

Feng Huang's face was livid with rage at this moment. He cupped his fists toward the composed Zhang Xian, "I ask Your Lordship to deal with this madman who fabricates rumors to slander your subordinate!"

"Wu Gong, if you have evidence, produce it. If there truly is someone perverting justice for personal gain, then this official will stake his life to get you justice! But if you don't, this official will not let you off lightly this time!"

Yao Chongli's face was equally dark and ugly, anger rising in his heart.

Because Wu Gong's words and actions at this moment had far exceeded their prior planning; they had not coordinated with him beforehand.

Now he suddenly acted on his own initiative, leaving Yao Chongli feeling utterly passive.

If Wu Gong truly had evidence, it would be fine. But if not, that would be biting the officials of the Ministry of Personnel's Examination Bureau right in front of Zhang Xian—a capital taboo of the court!

When that time came, no matter how good his relations with the Jinling faction were, he would only have to find a way to wash his hands clean of it.

"Wu Gong, you are also a scion of a Confucian aristocratic clan; you should be clear on the consequences of speaking recklessly." Zhang Xian raised a hand slightly, "If you have evidence, produce it now."

Heavy pressure bore down like a mountain, yet Wu Gong's spine remained straight, his expression neither servile nor overbearing.

He declared in a clear voice: "Reporting to Your Lordship, this student naturally has evidence!"

The moment his voice fell, the sound of wind and rain outside, which had been building in intensity, suddenly caught in its throat, as if it dared not act rashly even at this moment.

Seeing Wu Gong still so composed, a sudden unease stirred in Gu Xi's heart.

Could it be he really holds evidence of me bribing Feng Huang?

"Your Lordships, please look."

Wu Gong took out an electronic file and placed it on the table, tapping it lightly with a finger. Immediately, a projection shot out, hovering before the crowd.

Text cascaded down like a waterfall. Though the font was fine, everyone present was a Sequence Bearer, and they could easily read the recorded content.

Item by item, it listed clearly the things Gu Xi had presented to Feng Huang—not just the specifications and value of the gifts, but even the times and places of delivery were recorded in detail.

"Interesting. These recommendations have always been dogs biting dogs, but to bite this viciously... that is truly rare."

Cold light swirled in Pei Xingjian's eyes; his body, originally lounging casually in the chair, straightened slightly.

"Huzhou brushes, Huizhou inkstones, Xuande gold-flecked paper, Chongzhen edicts, erotic paintings..."

Yao Chongli recited the contents of the projection in a low voice. With every gift name he spoke, the gloom on his face dissipated a fraction.

The instant he saw these things, he determined that the file Wu Gong produced was genuine.

Such flashy yet useless things—every single one was Feng Huang's beloved treasure.

"Lord Feng, your taste is truly refined and vulgar all at once."

Feng Huang's hand, resting on his belt, clenched tight. That damn Gu Xi—he actually dared keep a record of the things he gave me?!

"Magistrate Feng, explain yourself."

Zhang Xian spoke slowly, his expression calm and waveless, yet exuding an undeniable majesty.

"Your Lordship, faced with such fabricated charges, this student does not believe Lord Feng has anything to explain."

Feng Huang panicked for a moment, not knowing what to say. Instead, it was Gu Xi, sitting beside him, who spoke up first.

"Right now, it is Lord Zhang questioning Magistrate Feng!"

Yao Chongli shouted: "What status do you have, that you are fit to speak?"

"Reporting to Your Lordship, although this student holds no official post, I have long since become a disciple under Magistrate Feng. Right now, I merely speak as a student to redress my teacher's grievance—is that not allowed?"

Gu Xi advanced and retreated with propriety, not losing an ounce of composure because of the evidence Wu Gong produced.

"A son cries injustice for his father; a disciple cries injustice for his teacher—it is only right and proper."

Zhang Xian nodded slightly, "Then you tell me—what does 'fabricated charges' mean?"

“Fabricated from thin air—naturally, a trumped-up charge!”

Gu Xi’s gaze was steadfast, his words imbued with an undeniable confidence.