“My, Young Master Otake, you truly are such a wonderful person!”
“W-What do you mean by that?” Kujou Otake instinctively sensed something was amiss.
Lu Heng unhurriedly lifted the document he had just retrieved and nudged it gently across the desk in front of him.
“Nothing much. Only that the fifty thousand catties of relief grain allocated the day before yesterday went out, but there has been zero feedback. Its whereabouts are completely unknown. Do you know what that means?”
Seeing Lu Heng’s bafflingly composed demeanor, Otake felt a surge of panic, as though he had just inherited something utterly disastrous.
“It means this is a totally unaccounted mess, and the higher-ups are looking for a scapegoat. Naturally, that responsibility originally belonged to me.”
As Lu Heng spoke, Otake’s face grew paler and paler.
“Who could have guessed that you would take over this burden, Young Master Otake? Now, when the higher-ups come to settle this account, they’ll be coming for you.”
Hearing this, Otake’s eyes went wide.
He lunged forward to grab Lu Heng by the collar.
“You dare trick me?! I’ll rip this damn paper to shreds! You bastard, I’ll go get my father right now and have you thrown straight into a dungeon!”
Lu Heng’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach, his fingertips trembling slightly.
*Damn it!
Did I miscalculate?!*
*No!
I can’t back down here!
If I flinch now, I’m completely done for!*
Steeling his resolve, Lu Heng knew he had to bluff his way through to the bitter end.
Instead of dodging, he puffed out his chest and leaned right into it.
This sudden display of unshakeable confidence made Otake freeze.
The baffling boldness left him thoroughly unnerved.
Lu Heng closely watched his every move.
Cold sweat trickled down his temple, though he didn’t dare show it.
“Young Master, tearing it up won’t do you any good. The fact that you came here means the lords up top sent you, didn’t they?”
“Why don’t I tell you what happens next? Once this gets exposed, both of us will be dragged straight into the Tenryou Commission’s dungeons!”
“And to sweep it all under the rug, the Kujou Clan’s elders will happily offer up a useless branch-family member like you along with me as scapegoats. That way, they can even boast to the Shogun about how they prioritized justice over kin!”
Lu Heng was bluffing through his teeth.
He knew that the vague handover slip proved nothing, and that when push came to shove, he would still take the brunt of the fall alone.
But he had to make Otake believe they were grasshoppers tied to the same string!
Sure enough, Otake’s hand froze in midair, every last drop of color drained from his face.
“I—I just came to be a clerk… I don’t want to be a scapegoat!” Otake wailed, his voice already cracking into a sob.
Lu Heng narrowed his eyes, secretly overjoyed, yet he didn’t dare let his guard down.
He moved in for the final blow against Otake’s crumbling psyche.
“A nobody clerk like me with no backing doesn’t have much to lose—I can’t run anyway. But you… what a pity. This position is a truly lucrative post.”
“Young Master Otake, you wouldn’t want to see your reputation ruined, get hauled off as a fall guy, and end up cast out of the Kujou Clan, would you?” Lu Heng coaxed with a honeyed, seductive cadence.
“Th-Then what should I do?” Otake mumbled, utterly at a loss.
“I can help you.” Lu Heng reined in his smile, adopting a calm, thoroughly professional demeanor.
“I can keep you from taking any blame, while letting you comfortably step into this lucrative post.” Seeing Otake’s expression waver, Lu Heng pressed on.
“I can draft a liability waiver for you, detailing your duties, dates, and the precise circumstances during the handover, completely absolving you of any responsibility. I guarantee that when the superiors investigate, not a single spark of the blaze will touch you!”
“As you know, I’m a professional clerk. My work is airtight. However…”
“However what?!” Otake agitatedly moved forward to grab Lu Heng’s collar again, but the latter’s unflinching calm sparked a twinge of fear in his heart.
Lu Heng remained placid, merely rubbing his thumb and forefinger together.
“This falls under extra consulting services. How much can you offer?”
Otake swallowed hard and hesitantly held up a single finger.
“I… I can give you a hundred thousand Mora…”
“Huh? Young Master Otake, are you tossing scraps to a beggar?” Lu Heng’s face darkened.
He slammed the desk and made a move toward the door.
“A hundred thousand? For fifty thousand catties of relief grain—a capital offense worthy of the chopping block—you offer a measly hundred thousand? In that case, I might as well turn myself in right now and drag you down with me!”
“No, no, wait! A hundred and fifty thousand—two hundred thousand!” Otake frantically grabbed Lu Heng’s arm.
“Firm price: eight hundred thousand Mora!” Lu Heng said sternly, enunciating each word while staring him down.
“Not a single Mora less!”
“Eight hundred thousand Mora?! Why don’t you just rob a bank?!” Otake stamped his feet in desperation.
Right at that moment, the bustling commotion from the office corridor outside died down into an eerie, instantaneous silence.
*Clack, clack, clack.*
Amid the synchronized clinking of armored plates came the crisp cadence of high-toothed geta clogs striking the floor.
Both men stopped their squabbling almost simultaneously and instinctively turned to look.
A cool, aloof young woman wearing a tengu mask with a long blade slung at her waist was striding down the corridor on long, slender legs.
Her face was cold as frost, and her sharp golden eyes held not a shred of emotion.
Behind her, two Okuzumeshu samurai were dragging a man dressed in administrator robes like a dead dog.
Ashen-faced, the official wailed in desperation.
“General, have mercy! I truly didn’t touch those accounts! Mmph—!”
A scabbard struck him hard, leaving the corridor in absolute, dead silence.
*Kujou Sara?!*
Lu Heng’s heart stirred.
He glanced at Kujou Otake, who was already shivering like a sieve.
A genial, sinister smile curved on Lu Heng’s lips.
He stood up straight and, in an unhurried drawl, raised his voice toward the doorway:
“Oh my, isn’t that—”
*Thud!*
Otake nearly leaped out of his skin.
Like a pouncing tiger, he lunged across the desk, pinning Lu Heng’s hands down as he practically collapsed to his knees atop the desk.
“Don’t! Don’t make a sound! That’s General Kujou Sara!”
Seeing Lu Heng’s half-smiling gaze, Otake dropped his voice to a tearful, desperate whisper.
“I… I’m just from a branch family, where would I get that much money?! I only have four hundred thousand Mora! That’s really all I have!”
“Deal.”
A second ago, Lu Heng looked ready to shout for the general; now, wearing a practiced, professional smile, he grasped Otake’s hand and gave it a hearty shake, a complete transformation from moments before.
Otake froze, his brain failing to catch up.
“I can see that you’re an honest man, Young Master Otake! Four hundred thousand it is. Consider it the price of making a friend with yours truly.”
Lu Heng finally breathed a silent sigh of relief.
“Bring the money to this address in Hanamizaka within the hour! Cash on delivery for the waiver. Otherwise, prepare for mutual destruction!”
Watching Otake stumble frantically out the door to gather the funds, the smile on Lu Heng’s face vanished instantly.
His gaze sharpened, and he swiftly began drafting the waiver, quickly producing a document densely packed with bureaucratic jargon.
“It won’t fool an old fox, but it’s more than enough to dupe a simpleton,” he scoffed.
Holding the brush in one hand, he calculated his next moves.
Four hundred thousand Mora was no small sum.
If he made his way to Rito and found an unregistered smuggling boat bound for Liyue, it would at least be enough to buy a berth in the hold!
Next, to prevent that idiot Otake from catching on or the Kujou Clan’s elders from making a move early, he needed to throw up a smokescreen big enough to draw all of the clan’s attention before making his escape, buying himself valuable time.
“The Kanjou Commission? No good. They’re cut from the same cloth as the Tenryou Commission—they probably took a cut of the embezzled funds anyway. The Yashiro Commission? They manage cultural and civic affairs with zero hard political clout; right now, Kamisato Ayato is doing all he can just to keep the Kamisato Clan’s current holdings afloat! Which leaves only one target…”
Lu Heng thought of that pink-haired fox who couldn’t even be bothered to wear her shrine maiden robes properly.
Yae Publishing House.
At that thought, Lu Heng sneered internally.
*Want to use me as a scapegoat?
Then I’ll give you something vicious to deal with.
Go fight that pink fox instead!*
Lu Heng spread another sheet of paper across the desk and firmly wrote down the title:
*Yes, Lord Harbinger*