The Uncrowned 04

"Sir? What is it?"

Fang Zhiyi slung an arm around his shoulder. "You've got decent skills, kid. I’m entrusting you with a few urgent tasks."

Wang Jia felt uneasy. Why did he always get the sense that the magistrate was scheming against him? Then again, he wasn’t important enough to be worth scheming against. But that look on the magistrate’s face... it was downright fox-like.

Had he been possessed by some demon?

Clutching an address and a name, Wang Jia set off in a daze for the neighboring prefecture. His mission was to find a garrison commander named Qin Li, and he carried a letter in his hand.

Meanwhile, Fang Zhiyi gathered a group of men, announced he had business to attend to, dumped his county duties on his subordinates, and left without a second thought.

His first stop was the prefectural office.

The prefect was surprised to hear of Fang Zhiyi’s arrival. The man rarely ever left his quiet little Qingping County—what had brought him here so suddenly?

Not that the prefect was intimidated. When Fang Zhiyi first arrived, he’d been wary for a time, but soon realized the man was just as his colleagues described—on bad terms with the prime minister and even having offended the emperor. Gradually, the prefect stopped caring for him, especially since Fang Zhiyi never paid tribute. If not for his prime minister father, the prefect would’ve found a way to deal with him long ago.

With that mindset, the prefect saw no reason to welcome Fang Zhiyi. After all, the man was his subordinate.

Yet Fang Zhiyi only stood outside the office for a few minutes before impatiently shoving aside the gatekeeper and striding in like he owned the place.

"Hey—hey! Magistrate Fang, you can’t enter without summons!" the gatekeeper shouted, but before he could intervene, Fang Zhiyi’s men seized him. They’d been instructed beforehand—anyone who stood in their way was to be restrained, and if their magistrate nodded, they were to strike.

Fang Zhiyi had deliberately picked hot-headed men for this trip, men who wouldn’t hesitate at a gatekeeper’s protests.

The commotion drew out a subordinate official, who frowned at the noise. Then he spotted Fang Zhiyi. He’d seen the man a few times before—always with that lifeless expression and no sense of propriety. Utterly irritating.

"What are you doing? Subordinates must wait for an audience with the prefect—has no one taught you—"

Fang Zhiyi waved a hand, and his men immediately grabbed the official.

"Wha—what are you doing?!" The man was genuinely startled.

The hotheads glanced at their magistrate. Seeing his slight nod, they raised their fists without hesitation.

"Ow! This is rebellion! Fang, you—you dare let your men assault an official?!"

Fang Zhiyi frowned. One of his men barked, "Shut his mouth!"

And so the official’s protests turned into muffled groans of pain.

Footsteps hurried closer as the prefect rushed out. He’d been enjoying a song from his new concubine, intending to leave Fang Zhiyi waiting—only to find the man causing such a scene!

"Stop! What is the meaning of this?" the prefect demanded sharply.

Fang Zhiyi raised a brow. "Quite the grand air you’ve got."

The prefect faltered. Something about Fang Zhiyi felt... different.

"If I recall correctly, the law states that if a subordinate arrives at the prefectural office on urgent official business, no one may obstruct them. Am I wrong?"

The prefect’s expression darkened. This man was still obsessed with quoting laws. "Rules are rules, Magistrate Fang. Break them, and don’t blame me for reporting you." He glanced at the restrained gatekeeper and the writhing official on the ground, fury rising.

Fang Zhiyi chuckled. "The fellow at the gate told me, ‘No entry without summons.’ Last I checked, only the emperor speaks like that."

The prefect’s face paled. That was a dangerous accusation. He glared at the gatekeeper. "What nonsense did you spout? Do you want to lose your tongue?"

But then he turned back to Fang Zhiyi. "I’ll discipline my servants. What urgent business brings you here today?"

Fang Zhiyi motioned for his men to step back and strode into the main hall, plopping himself into the prefect’s seat without a care. The prefect’s blood boiled at the sight.

"Urgent business, yes. My county’s dirt poor. I’m here for money."

"What?!" The prefect’s face turned ashen. "Magistrate Fang, this is beyond a joke! Storming my office, assaulting my men, and now demanding money?!"

Fang Zhiyi nodded. "Problem?"

"Guards!" the prefect roared.

Fang Zhiyi merely said, "I told my father I’m broke, and you won’t approve funds. I’m practically starving."

The prefect froze. His... father? It took him a moment to remember—Fang Zhiyi’s father was the prime minister. The man never mentioned him, so it had slipped his mind.

"Magistrate F-Fang... you mean you’ve been in contact with the prime minister?" The prefect’s tone instantly softened. The prime minister—a man of immense power!

Fang Zhiyi gave him a sidelong glance, idly toying with a wooden token. "What, you want to read my letters to my father too?"

"N-no, of course not!" The prefect waved his hands frantically.

"Let me make this clear. Bandits run rampant in Qingping County. I need funds and men. Hand them over now, or I’ll tear this office apart!" Fang Zhiyi slammed a palm on the table, wincing internally at the pain. Damn these people and their thick wooden desks.

But his face betrayed nothing.

"Report me if you want. See if your memorial reaches my father or the emperor first."

The threat in his voice was unmistakable. The prefect broke into a cold sweat.

Had this fool finally wised up? Was he actually using his father’s influence to threaten him?

"Magistrate Fang!" The prefect took a deep breath, speaking through gritted teeth. "What do you take me for?"

Fang Zhiyi stood, observing the standoff between his men and the prefect’s guards in the courtyard.

"As a local official, it’s my duty to handle banditry. Since Magistrate Fang has taken the initiative, I naturally offer my full support!"

Fang Zhiyi nearly rolled his eyes. If you’re surrendering, why put on such a show?

That night, he indulged in a lavish feast at the prefectural office, his men devouring their meals like starved wolves. The prefect watched them, struggling to tell who the real bandits were.

But one thing was clear—Fang Zhiyi had changed. Not only was he demanding money, but he was also eating his fill and taking what he wanted. It was as if he’d just remembered his father’s status.

The prefect forced a smile, enduring several drunken slaps from Fang Zhiyi that left his cheeks burning. But he didn’t dare drop his smile. This Fang Zhiyi was a master of deception—he’d been pretending all along! A spoiled brat through and through. And one the prefect couldn’t afford to cross.

The next day, Fang Zhiyi left satisfied—along with over five hundred men from the prefectural patrol.