Daming: Brother, there is no future for monks, let's rebel

Zhou Suishi's pupils contracted.

After a moment, he leaned down and brought his lips to the edge of the teacup, as if to speak to the steam: "...Master Jia."

"In the hall?" Zhu Han asked.

“Yes.” Zhou Suishi lowered his eyes. “He said it was just a ‘warning’, that no one would be hurt, and that a few pages of useless accounts would be burned. The clerk… the clerk told the people at the money exchange that the ‘East’ sign was just a scare tactic, and that it was better if it scared them, but it didn’t matter if it didn’t.”

How many times have you met Qian Ji?

"Three times. Yesterday afternoon was the fourth."

"What kind of paper did he show you?"

"The delivery slip from Nanshi, along with two rubbings of old money tallies, says 'must be collected tomorrow,' or burn them."

Zhu Han nodded and gently turned the cup: "Alright. You may go."

Zhou Suishi was taken aback: "Just... leave?"

“Let’s go.” Zhu Han pushed a small cloth bag over. “Inside is a new talisman and a short piece of paper: Take it to the Ministry of Revenue. Someone there will recognize your handwriting and give you a small table and a brush washer. Go back tonight and draw all the faces you’ve seen these past few days and hang them under your bed. I’ll come and get them.”

Zhou Suishi trembled slightly, stood up while holding the cloth bag, bowed, and walked out unsteadily.

Yin Yan stepped out from behind the screen and clicked his tongue: "How many people will be brought to tears by this pot of salt tea that Your Highness has brewed?"

"Salt tea quenches thirst." Zhu Han raised his eyes, his expression indifferent, "and also stops the craving."

"What's next?"

“Next,” Zhu Han picked up his cup, “we’ll let those who need to speak do so, and keep quiet ourselves.”

The Prince Ning's mansion was quiet at night.

Gu Qingping spread out two lists in front of the desk: one was the list of those who had retrieved the old talismans from the internal affairs department, and the other was the list of those who had burned talismans at the street corners of Fangjunji.

She used an extremely fine vermilion pen to make several dots on each of the two sheets of paper, then stacked the two sheets together and held them up to the light.

The red dots visible through the paper overlapped in three places.

She picked up her pen and wrote three characters next to the intersection: "Qian Ji, Zhou Suishi, Nanshi Sangui".

There were light footsteps outside the door, and Zhu Han came in. She looked up and pushed the paper towards him.

"Beautiful," he laughed. "This is the proper accounting."

“What’s next?” she asked.

“Next,” Zhu Han folded the list and put it in his sleeve, “let them think the accounts haven’t been settled yet. Tomorrow morning, someone from the Nanshi Money Exchange will go to the Ministry of War to ask for ‘clearing’ his name; in the afternoon, someone else will go to the Ministry of Revenue to ask for ‘official seal’. Once the two are matched, the seal will be ruined. We just need to put a ‘real’ one next to the seal of the Ministry of Revenue to give them a surprise.”

"Where does it really come from?"

“On the sign-in sheet,” he said casually, “the one from last year.”

Gu Qingping was stunned for a moment, then laughed out loud: "Your Highness even remembers this."

"A person who keeps accounts always needs an account book."

He suppressed his smile. "Tomorrow, the Crown Prince will speak as usual, and he won't say a word more. Once the money exchange has settled its affairs, you can go to the palace and say, 'The old tokens are gone, and the granary is safe.'"

"And what about Jia Cheng?"

“Let him speak.” Zhu Han’s voice was as calm as still water. “The more he speaks, the less we write.”

On the morning of the third day, the Eastern Palace was as usual, with the sound of bells and drums steady and calm.

After Zhu Biao finished speaking, he was about to return to his study when a young eunuch rushed in from the doorway: "Your Highness, the South Market Money Exchange is closed to customers today. They just posted a notice: 'From now on, we will no longer accept old money exchange tokens for silver.'"

“They got scared,” Zhu Biao blurted out.

The clerk behind him smiled and said, "It's good that you're scared."

Zhu Biao suddenly stopped, turned around, and said to the clerk, "Make a note of last night's lamp oil, and also make a note of the money for the bamboo utensils in the school. From now on, every single entry shall be copied according to the new method—not the 'new method,'" he changed his words, "according to 'Uncle Wang's method.'"

The clerk responded. Gu Qingping watched from a distance, her gaze lingering on Zhu Biao's retreating figure, her brows slowly relaxing.

In the afternoon, in the small hall of the Ministry of Revenue, Zhou Suishi spread out the "face paintings" he had painted the night before on the table. Three people sat beside him: one writing, one doing accounts, and one recording faces. They didn't look at each other and just did their own work.

Someone outside whispered, "Minister Jia's carriage circled the alleyway twice before leaving."

"What did he see?" the face reader asked.

"Upon seeing Zhou, he followed Shi into the room."

"He'll come again," the person who memorized faces said calmly. "He'll come in a different car."

As dusk fell, the river breeze began to rise again.

The sky over Nanjing was tinged with red by the sunset, and the river surface was covered with a layer of golden dust.

Zhu Han stood on the high platform of the Prince of Ning's mansion, looking out at the river warehouse. The walls stood still, and the flags fluttered calmly.

He put his hands behind his back and asked the person beside him in a low voice, "Yin Yan, what else is being said in the city today?"

“Yes,” Yin Yan said. “Some say the Crown Prince only knows how to read books; others say the Prince only knows how to drink salt tea.”

“Let them talk,” Zhu Han said calmly. “Tomorrow they’ll say, ‘The money shop’s stamp is wrong.’ The day after that, they’ll say, ‘The Ministry of War’s word is wrong too.’ When they’re tired of saying it, nobody will want to say it anymore.”

He turned to go down the steps, but paused for a moment, as if he remembered something. He took out the copper coin with the character "徽" from his sleeve, tossed it up, and caught it.

The coin spun in his palm, then with a clink, fell back into his sleeve.

"Your Highness," Gu Qingping's voice came from below the steps. She looked up, her eyes clear, "The Eastern Palace will be testing the lanterns tonight."

"Okay." Zhu Han nodded. "Let the whole city see it."

"See what?"

"I saw a lamp."

He smiled, "One lamp is enough."

The spring waters of Nanjing are rising slightly, and the willows along the Qinhuai River are turning a fresh green.

The wind in the south of the city no longer carries any chill, only a slight coolness at dusk.

On the walls of the Prince Ning's mansion, wisteria vines sprouted tender branches.

Zhu Han leaned back in a bamboo chair, with a thin account book in front of him.

He remained calm, occasionally turning a page, his fingertips tracing the handwriting, his eyes looking as if he were gazing at a bygone era.

Yin Yan strode in and bowed: "Your Highness, the Ministry of Revenue has replied—the case of the old talisman is completely closed. Qian Ji, the owner of the Qian family, died suddenly last night after a sudden illness. Jia Cheng of the Ministry of War has resigned, and His Majesty has approved it."

Zhu Han raised his head and smiled slightly: "Sudden death?"

"Yes." Yin Yan lowered his voice. "It is said that he was looking at accounts under the lamp when he collapsed on the table. The doctor they called said it was a heart ailment."

"Heart disease?" Zhu Han sighed. "He died a clean death, at least."

He put down the account book, his tone turning somber: "Is everything alright at the Crown Prince's palace?"

"His Highness the Crown Prince has been giving lectures frequently lately, and his reputation is excellent. He is known among the people as the 'Benevolent Crown Prince,' and scholars all praise his writings."

Zhu Han nodded slightly, but his gaze was fixed on the distance: "The louder the commotion, the more cautious we need to be. Go to the East Palace and keep a close watch, don't let those who are vying for fame write too quickly."

Yin Yan responded and left.

Outside the courtyard, the bamboo leaves rustled.

Zhu Han slowly closed the book, when he suddenly heard footsteps. He looked up and saw Gu Qingping walking in.

She changed into a plain white dress with very faint bamboo leaf patterns embroidered on the sleeves.

“Your Highness,” she said softly, “His Highness requests that you come to the palace for a talk.”

Zhu Han smiled: "What does this child want to discuss with me this time?"

Gu Qingping chuckled softly, her eyes gentle: "His Highness said that the school's accounts need to be revised in terms of format, and he would like to ask Your Highness for guidance."

"Finger technique?" Zhu Han chuckled. "He's taking it seriously."

He rose, straightened his hat, gathered the account books on the table, and followed her into the carriage. They traveled all the way to the East Palace, as dusk was falling and the palace lanterns were just beginning to light.

The study was brightly lit. Zhu Biao was standing in front of the desk, personally laying out the paper. When Zhu Han entered, he greeted him with a smile: "Uncle."

"Why are you being so polite?" Zhu Han joked. "I am not the Minister of Revenue."

Zhu Biao invited him to sit down, holding several newly copied account books in his hands: "Uncle Wang taught me to keep accounts, not just for money. I've recently been learning to record events—recording every person and every transfer in the accounts by date. That way, who said what and when the money was moved can be matched up."

Zhu Han paused slightly, then his smile deepened: "That's right, this is the real account."

Zhu Biao said with a hint of pride, "I left a column called 'Fleeting Insights' at the end of the register. All the undetermined matters and statements that cannot be made explicit will be written in that column. If someone wants to investigate in the future, there will be clues."

“Floating light?” Zhu Han read aloud with amusement, “It does have a touch of ingenuity.”

"As Uncle Wang once said, worldly affairs are fleeting and ephemeral, but only handwriting can record them."

Zhu Biao lowered his head and smiled, "I just learned it by stealing information."

Zhu Han felt a surge of warmth in his heart and shook his head with a smile: "You are much more astute than I was back then."

Gu Qingping poured tea and interjected softly, "Your Highness has also added a new method: on the first day of each month, clerks will copy the palace's silver accounts, and at the end of the month, they will compare them with the Crown Prince's accounts. If there are any discrepancies, they will be marked in red immediately."

Zhu Han raised his eyebrows: "This method is excellent, but someone needs to be able to guard it."

Zhu Biao replied, "I have selected several former clerks, all of whom were former employees of the Prince in his early years."

"That's even better." Zhu Han put down his teacup, his gaze suddenly shifting slightly. "Your Highness's actions, though seemingly minor, have infringed upon the authority of the Ministry of Internal Affairs and the Ministry of Revenue. If anyone tries to exploit this, we must be on guard."

Zhu Biao nodded, his expression calm: "I understand. Therefore, I ask Uncle Wang to help me again."

"What's the matter?"

Zhu Biao took out a sealed letter: "This is a request from the Prefect of Yingtian Prefecture—the river transport has been disrupted recently, grain ships have been delayed, and the Ministry of Personnel has not been able to recommend a new official. The Prefect wants me to recommend someone."

"Whom should I recommend?" Zhu Han asked.

Zhu Biao replied, "Zhu Menglin."

Zhu Han frowned slightly: "Those are members of the Zhu family from Huguang. They were originally salt merchants. Although they were honest, they associated with Huizhou merchants."

"That's precisely why we need to use him."

Zhu Biao's gaze remained calm. "The Huizhou merchants are being suppressed. If their old associates are not employed, the southward transport will be disrupted."

Zhu Han pondered for a long time before softly saying, "You have your reasons."

Gu Qingping asked softly, "Does Your Highness think this is a feasible move?"

Zhu Han did not answer immediately. He got up and walked to the window, gazing at the night view in the distance.

His voice was low and slow: "This move is risky, but it is a step out of the 'treasury'. If you really want to do it, I will not stop you, but there is one condition—the name of recommendation will fall into your hands, not mine."

Zhu Biao immediately understood: "Uncle is telling me that I am capable of taking on this responsibility."

"Yes." Zhu Han turned around, a hint of pride in his smile. "Only someone who can shoulder this responsibility is truly the Crown Prince."

The following morning at court, the Crown Prince submitted a memorial requesting that Zhu Menglin be appointed as the Deputy Commissioner of the Southern Transport.

The courtiers were in an uproar and discussed the matter extensively.

Zhu Yuanzhang pondered for a moment and finally granted permission.

The court session ended, and the officials withdrew.

Zhu Yuanzhang kept Zhu Biao behind and said casually, "I've heard that this man used to associate with Huizhou merchants?"

Zhu Biao bowed his head: "Yes."

Why recommend him?

“The grain transport ships to the south have not been able to operate for three months because no one in the river administration is willing to make the necessary arrangements. Although Zhu Menglin is a merchant, he is also knowledgeable in official matters. I recommend him to help resolve this issue.”

Zhu Yuanzhang looked at him for a moment, then suddenly smiled and said, "You do have some of the air of your uncle."

Zhu Biao looked up and saw a hint of warmth in his father's eyes, and felt a sense of relief.

When the news reached the Prince of Ning's residence, Yin Yan reported: "The Southern Water Transport has started. Zhu Menglin opened the sluice gates on the day he took office, and the waterway is running smoothly. Everyone in the court is saying that the Crown Prince has found the right person."

Zhu Han put down his teacup and smiled, "A fine move."

Gu Qingping asked, "Is Your Highness now at ease?"

"Don't worry?" Zhu Han shook his head, his tone indifferent. "It's only the beginning."

He walked to the window and looked towards the direction of the Eastern Palace.

A spring breeze drifts through the curtains, bringing with it a faint scent of sandalwood.

Gu Qingping suddenly asked softly, "Your Highness, what if one day His Highness no longer needs you?"

Zhu Han paused slightly, then turned and smiled, "That's good."

"But can you really bear to part with it?"

“I’m willing to give up.” Zhu Han gazed into the distance. “He is the fire, and I am the lamp oil. When the oil runs out, the fire will reignite.”

Two months later, news arrived that the grain transported from the south had returned. The granaries were now leveled, and the people had a stable food supply.

Zhu Menglin was awarded the title of Right Vice Minister for his meritorious service.

Many in the court praised the Crown Prince for his discerning eye, and his reputation gradually grew.

However, rumors began to circulate.

Some whispered, "The Crown Prince employs men of merchant origin, thus corrupting ancestral rules." Others said, "The Prince of Ning's former associates are in power and are secretly colluding with the Crown Prince."

Upon learning this, Zhu Biao immediately summoned Zhu Han to the palace.

That night, the moon shone brightly, and the palace gates were quietly closed.

Zhu Biao looked worried: "Uncle, many people have spoken out. Although Father has not spoken, he has already summoned the Ministry of Revenue for a secret discussion."

Zhu Han sat to the side, his expression calm: "Does Your Highness know who spoke of this?"

“Imperial Censor Wang Zheng.”

“Wang Zheng? The son of the Wang family, the ‘eunuch’ who escaped with his life in the Hu case back then.”

Zhu Han smiled: "He has guts. Good, we need to use him to stab us in the back."

Zhu Biao was puzzled: "Borrow a knife?"

The wind that blows from the north after late spring carries the dry smell of the open fields.

The bamboo leaves in the backyard of the Prince Ning's mansion trembled softly, and a square patch of sky was reflected in the water vat.

Zhu Han stood under the eaves, rolled up his sleeves, and rubbed his fingertips on a clay seal.

Yin Yan stepped through the door, his clothes slightly dusty. He clasped his hands and said, "Your Highness, a letter from the north has arrived. It was delivered by a messenger from Shuntian. The letterbox is made of bamboo from the border."

"Bamboo along the border should not be used lightly."

Zhu Han took it and unscrewed the bamboo stopper. Inside was a scroll of paper, the words flowing like ink: "The granaries are at peace, but the army is in turmoil. The grain is on the river, and the people are on the shore, all awaiting orders. Those in the northern region are saying that they intend to use the pretext of 'grain requisition' to issue a warrant in the name of the Crown Prince, demanding the transfer of 300,000 taels of silver. I urge Your Highness to make a careful decision. — Presented by Meng Lin."

Gu Qingping, standing in the corridor, turned to the side and whispered, "His Highness gave a lecture at the academy today and has ordered that no one disturb him. He wants the Prince to read this letter first."

Zhu Han put the letter back into the bamboo tube, and slowly raised the corner of his mouth: "The first sentence to read is this one—'borrowing the name of the Crown Prince'."

Yin Yan said, “There are people spreading rumors in Shuntian City that the Crown Prince has agreed to ‘urgently send the northern treasury’, and the southern silver will immediately go north. The person who spoke did not reveal his name, but handed over a piece of paper with a seal that looked exactly like the Crown Prince’s official seal.”

"It looks exactly like it?" Zhu Han laid the old rubbing flat on the table. "Let me take a look."

Yin Yan handed over two thin sheets of paper. The words "Eastern Palace" were rubbed on the paper, with a tiny cloud-shaped flower next to them.

Gu Qingping leaned down and lightly tapped with her fingertips: "These flowers are blooming too profusely. The Eastern Palace's defenses use only half-bloomed flowers."

Zhu Han laughed: "Half a flower shows humility, a full flower shows joy. Forgers don't know the proper etiquette when they see a flower; they only know that 'full' looks nice." He closed the paper and asked, "Who sent you the picture?" (End of Chapter)