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

The Imperial Guards did not linger.

They took the ledger page with them, as well as a copy of the transfer order.

That afternoon, in the waterside pavilion in the backyard of the Prince Han's mansion, Zhu Han finished looking at the two items.

The water was still, reflecting the straight and cold shadows of the eaves.

“Xu Jingxiu,” Zhu Han read the name aloud, “was an inconspicuous assistant in the river works roster three years ago.”

"Yes." The reply came from the spy from last night. "He was in charge of material transportation that year, but his name wasn't on the books."

“But he had access to the seal,” Zhu Han said.

The undercover agent nodded: "After the death of the supervisor of the river works, that seal should have been sealed away, but it was transferred out twice under the pretext of 'replenishment'."

“Every time, Xu Jingxiu was present.”

Zhu Han closed the booklet.

The line was shorter than he had expected.

Short means not isolated.

"The fire at the Qingli Division," Zhu Han said slowly, "was not meant to burn these three hundred and seventy taels."

The undercover agent remained silent.

"It was to cover up this transfer," Zhu Han continued, "to move him out of the Ministry of Works and disconnect the original file from the copy."

Unfortunately, the fire didn't burn completely.

"Your Highness," the spy whispered, "should we take action against Xu Jingxiu now?"

“No.” Zhu Han shook his head. “He’s just the loose end.”

"That--"

"Release him back to the Ministry of Personnel," Zhu Han said. "Or even, give him a little warning."

The undercover agent was taken aback.

Zhu Han stood up and looked towards the palace.

"Someone went through so much trouble to start the fire; they wouldn't just be looking at the ashes."

He said, "It makes them think that the fire is still spreading where it's supposed to go."

Three days later, news spread throughout the court.

The Ministry of Works was found to have failed in its duty of oversight in its investigation of old files, and a senior official in the Construction Department has been temporarily suspended pending further investigation.

The name wasn't explicitly stated.

But those who understand, understand.

This commotion quickly reached the Eastern Palace.

Zhu Biao was reading memorials in the study of the Eastern Palace.

These days, he mostly approves trivial matters; the truly important ones are all suppressed by his father.

"Your Highness," the eunuch reported in a low voice, "Prince Han has entered the palace."

Zhu Biao looked up.

"please."

When Zhu Han entered, he was not wearing royal robes, but only plain everyday clothes.

The uncle and nephew sat facing each other, separated only by a chessboard.

On the chessboard, neither black nor white pieces have moved.

"Uncle," Zhu Biao spoke first, "I've heard about the matter at the Ministry of Works."

"How much have you heard?" Zhu Han asked.

"I only heard that one person stopped there," Zhu Biao said.

Zhu Han nodded: "That's enough."

Zhu Biao was slightly taken aback.

“You don’t need to get involved in this,” Zhu Han said. “Just know that someone wants you to be unable to see the truth.”

Zhu Biao frowned slightly, but did not ask any further questions.

He knew this royal uncle.

Zhu Han didn't say anything because it wasn't the right time for him to know.

"What about Father Emperor..." Zhu Biao hesitated for a moment.

“He sees things more clearly than you,” Zhu Han said. “It’s just a matter of who can’t hold back first.”

Zhu Biao was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, "What if it were me who couldn't hold back?"

Zhu Han glanced at him.

That glance was very calm.

“Then I’ll take it for you once,” he said, “but only once.”

Night fell over Yingtian Prefecture, and the outline of the palace was sharpened by the shadows of the clouds.

The Forbidden City at night is more like a closed box than during the day; sounds are swallowed up by the layers of palace walls, leaving only footsteps and the sound of the wind.

Zhu Han left the Eastern Palace but did not return to the Prince's residence.

He changed course and headed south, entering the former headquarters of the Armory.

This place was originally a military equipment inventory site. Since the abolition of redundant departments in the fifteenth year of Hongwu, only a minor official and a few side rooms for storing sealed files have been left.

The location is remote, not far from the Imperial Guard, but not within the main night patrol route.

When Zhu Han stepped into the courtyard, the lamps under the eaves had just been lit.

The light was dim, barely enough to illuminate three steps ahead.

"Has the person arrived?" he asked.

A voice responded from the shadows: "Already inside."

The room was sparsely furnished, with a long table, two chairs, and a thin booklet spread out on the table.

It wasn't an official document; it was just a copy bound with old paper, the corners of which had been repeatedly turned over and were already frayed.

Xu Jingxiu sat at the desk.

He wasn't wearing official robes, just a worn-out blue robe with a faded collar.

He was suspended from his post for three days, but he was clearly not imprisoned; he was simply ordered not to leave the city.

Upon seeing Zhu Han enter, he immediately stood up and bowed, his movements very proper, yet carrying a hint of barely perceptible urgency.

"Sit down," Zhu Han gestured.

Xu Jingxiu sat down, but didn't lean against anything; he only rested halfway on his back.

Zhu Han didn't look at him, but looked at the booklet first.

"Do you recognize this?" he asked.

Xu Jingxiu's gaze fell on the booklet, and his Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

“I recognize it,” he said.

Those were casual notes on the transfer of materials for river engineering projects, not included in the official files, but only for supervisors and assistants to check.

Three years ago, when the Jiangbei River Workers were temporarily transferred, these kinds of booklets should have been destroyed along with the workers, but one of them was left behind.

"Who told you to leave it?" Zhu Han asked.

“No one was there,” Xu Jingxiu replied quickly. “I left it myself.”

Zhu Han then looked up and glanced at him.

"reason."

Xu Jingxiu was silent for a moment, then said in a low voice, "The river section was rerouted that year, and the accounts were processed in a hurry. I was afraid that someone would bring up old accounts in the future and implicate innocent people, so I kept an extra copy."

Zhu Han did not comment.

He reached out and opened the booklet, his fingertip pausing on one of the pages.

On that page, there was a seemingly insignificant expense recorded: lime, wooden stakes, and porter's fee. The amount was small, yet it had been altered once with a very faint ink mark.

The alterations almost correspond to the "missing" entries in the Qing Dynasty official records.

"You changed it?" Zhu Han asked.

“No.” Xu Jingxiu shook his head. “I recorded that amount as the original. Later, someone asked me to copy it from another set of accounts, but I refused.”

"Who?"

Xu Jingxiu looked up, as if he wanted to say something, but then swallowed it back.

Zhu Han closed the booklet.

"Who informed you that you were transferred to the Ministry of Personnel?"

"The Left Vice Minister of the Ministry of Works," Xu Jingxiu replied.

"Where did the transfer order come from?"

"The Cabinet drafts the proposal."

"Which one?"

Xu Jingxiu did not answer immediately.

The only sound in the room was the soft whirring of the lamp wick.

"Speak," Zhu Han said casually.

“…Grand Secretary Yang,” Xu Jingxiu said in a low voice.

The moment the name was uttered, the lamplight seemed to flicker.

Zhu Han was not surprised.

He stood up, put away the booklet, and handed it to the guard behind him.

“Tomorrow, you will go to the Ministry of Personnel as usual,” he said.

Xu Jingxiu was taken aback: "But I have already been suspended from my duties—"

“It’s your body that’s stopped, not your hand,” Zhu Han interrupted. “Since someone went to the trouble of moving you over there, they won’t really let you sit idle.”

Xu Jingxiu's face turned pale, but he still agreed.

Zhu Han walked to the door, then stopped.

“You only need to do one thing,” he said. “When transcribing, do it the same way. If someone gives you the numbers, don’t change them or ask questions.”

"What if—"

"If someone asks you to take a look at other accounts," Zhu Han turned around, "then look."

The door closed, and the night wind blew into the courtyard.

The guard whispered, "Your Highness, what about Grand Secretary Yang—"

“He’s not a loose thread,” Zhu Han said. “At most, he’s a knot.”

On the way back to the Prince's Mansion, Zhu Han silently recited a phrase to himself.

[Check-in.] A familiar echo flashed through my mind.

Location: Former headquarters of the Arsenal.

[Reward: One opportunity to verify the authenticity of old documents.]

Zhu Han did not stop walking.

He rarely uses this ability.

It's not because it's precious, but because it was used too early and might alert the wrong people.

The Qingli Si office reopened its doors the following morning.

The beams that were burned by the fire have not yet been fully repaired, and there is still a faint smell of burning in the air.

The copying tables were rearranged, and several newly transferred junior officials sat on the outside, their skills quite inexperienced.

Xu Jingxiu's seat was arranged towards the back.

An inconspicuous place, yet one where people can see comings and goings.

After noon, an account book was brought to his desk.

The cover is old, but the inner pages are new.

Xu Jingxiu turned to one of the pages, his fingertips pausing almost imperceptibly.

There was a very faint scratch on that page.

It's not changing the number, it's erasing the name.

He made no announcement and simply copied it exactly as it was.

When the papers were handed in at dusk, a eunuch stood at the door, his gaze sweeping across the desks before finally lingering on Xu Jingxiu for a moment.

That gaze was short, yet cold.

That night, the lights in the Prince of Han's mansion remained on.

The guards presented a transcribed copy.

Zhu Han didn't rush to look at the numbers, but instead looked at the margins of the page first.

"The scratch is here," the guard pointed out to him.

Zhu Han nodded, already having made his judgment.

That's not about making up for the debt.

It's about wiping people out.

On the third day, the cabinet held its routine meeting.

Grand Secretary Yang submitted an inconspicuous memorial, which simply stated that the Ministry of Personnel was understaffed and suggested that another person be transferred from the Ministry of Works to assist in the work.

The name is blank.

Zhu Yuanzhang did not approve it on the spot after reading it.

He put the memorial aside and asked, "Where is Prince Han?"

“Outside the palace,” the eunuch replied.

"Xuan."

Zhu Han entered the hall, and Zhu Biao was also there.

The father and son sat and stood, the atmosphere quieter than usual.

Zhu Yuanzhang pushed the sealed document in front of Zhu Han.

"What do you think?" he asked.

Zhu Han glanced at it but didn't reach out.

“Once this person is transferred, the accounts are cleared up,” he said.

Zhu Yuanzhang gave a cold laugh.

"Whose bill is it?"

"I want clean people," Zhu Han replied.

Zhu Yuanzhang was silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "Then I won't transfer them."

After he finished speaking, he added, "But the matter of the Qingli Division cannot be left unresolved."

Zhu Han nodded.

“Your subject has already let the accountant handle the matter himself,” he said.

Zhu Biao was completely confused, but he didn't say anything.

Zhu Yuanzhang glanced at him.

“Remember this,” he said to Zhu Biao, “the accounts aren’t for you to see, they’re for others to hear.”

The fire was small and only burned the study.

After reading the compilation book sent back by the spies in the Prince's mansion, Zhu Han did not show any relief when he closed it.

This is not the person the other party truly wants to promote.

That person was too far away, and too light.

It's more like a stand-in prepared in advance.

"Who reported the fire at the mansion in the south of the city?" Zhu Han asked.

"The night patrol discovered it first, and then reported it to the military command," the spies replied. "But the first to see the fire was a nearby house, which said it smelled burning in the middle of the night."

"Have you checked that household?"

“I checked.” The undercover agent paused. “The house changed owners three months ago.”

Zhu Han nodded.

The next day, the morning court session began.

Zhu Han stood at the end of the class as usual, without taking the initiative to speak.

The topics discussed at the court meeting remained the same: river repairs and preparations for the spring flood season. When the Minister of Works responded, his words were cautious, but he seemed more confident than in the previous days.

Because of the books, it's "clean" for now.

After listening, Zhu Yuanzhang simply said, "The matter of the river is related to the people's livelihood and cannot be treated lightly."

After speaking, his gaze swept across the hall.

His gaze didn't linger on any one person, yet it caused several senior officials to instinctively lower their heads.

After the court session ended, Zhu Biao caught up with Zhu Han.

"Uncle," he said in a low voice, "Father is not in a good mood today."

“That’s normal,” Zhu Han said. “Someone wants him to think the debts are settled.”

Zhu Biao was taken aback: "Isn't that a good thing?"

Zhu Han stopped and glanced at him.

“Clearing accounts too quickly is actually not good,” he said. “The real accounts are never on paper.”

Zhu Biao seemed to understand, but not quite.

Zhu Han did not offer any further explanation.

That afternoon, in the East Palace, Gu Qingping summoned several female officials from the inner court.

She did not inquire about political affairs, but only had someone take stock of the various rewards and expenses given to the Crown Prince over the past six months.

The ladies-in-waiting initially thought it was a routine check, until they discovered that several of the reward money had been split into multiple expenditures using different methods.

The number was small, but the pieces were extremely fragmented.

Gu Qingping looked at the account pages, her brows furrowing slightly.

"Who handled these?" she asked.

The female official replied in a low voice, "It was transferred by the Bureau of Ceremonial Affairs. They said it was for unified allocation within the inner court."

Gu Qingping did not ask any further questions.

That evening, she copied those pages of accounts and had her trusted confidant send them out of the Eastern Palace.

Their destination was the Prince of Han's residence.

It was late at night when Zhu Han saw the copy of the account.

He read through the pages one by one, his fingertips lingering on a few fragments of silver notes.

“Even the Crown Prince’s accounts are being used as a buffer,” he said softly.

This step took him further than he had anticipated.

The spy whispered from the side, "Your Highness, should we tighten the reins?"

"No." Zhu Han shook his head. "Take it off now, or the line will break."

He stood up, walked to the bookshelf, and took out an inconspicuous wooden box from the bottom shelf.

Inside the wooden box were several old seals.

It wasn't an official seal, but rather a private seal temporarily made by various places when the river works were temporarily transferred back then.

These things should have been destroyed long ago.

Zhu Han picked out one of them and placed it in his palm.

Most of the items temporarily dispatched for river works were crudely made, but this one was different. The engraving lines were steady and the force was heavy, clearly made by a skilled craftsman.

He did not close the wooden box immediately, but took out the remaining coins and placed them on the table one by one.

Under the lamplight, the marks varied in depth, like traces left by the same river in different sections.

The undercover agent stood aside without saying a word.

“These seals were originally scattered across three sections of the river,” Zhu Han suddenly said. “Do you know how they were eventually recovered?”

The spy was taken aback and whispered, "All I know is that the roster says 'lost after the flood'."

Zhu Han smiled slightly and said nothing more.

Lost is often the easiest way to put it.

The next day, Zhu Han did not go to the palace, but instead sent someone to the old archives of the Ministry of Works.

The name is perfectly legitimate—verify the expenditures for river works from the previous year with the remaining inventory.

Although the Minister of Works felt it was abrupt, he dared not be negligent and could only open the treasury to cooperate.

The old archives were located in the backyard of the Ministry of Works, in a secluded spot, and rarely visited. Dust accumulated on the wooden shelves, kicking up a layer whenever someone walked by.

Zhu Han did not arrive, so he only had his secret guards and a senior official from the Ministry of Works jointly count the items.

The person in charge initially thought it was just a formality, until he discovered that a supplementary register of river works dispatch orders had a different number of pages than the main register.

"Three pages are missing here," the guard pointed to the end of the book.

The person in charge turned pale and hurriedly flipped through the several volumes next to him, only to find that several supplementary volumes from the same batch were missing the page numbers in the same position.

It wasn't lost; it was all taken away by someone in a unified manner. (End of Chapter)