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

Shen Tingrui spoke first.

"files."

His voice was not loud, but it was clear.

"We seal the cases by year, separating old and new cases," he said. "We keep all original transfer and approval documents, not missing a single page."

The deputy envoy subconsciously replied, "Yes."

Shen Tingrui added, "The seal should follow the imperial court's standard procedure."

Upon hearing this, the deputy envoy's palm tightened slightly.

The imperial court's regulations meant that this was not an internal departmental investigation.

"Did you all hear that?" Shen Tingrui looked around.

No one dared to refuse.

He nodded and turned to go back into the inner room.

When he came out again, he had changed out of his official robes and was only wearing a plain-colored everyday dress.

He walked to the gate of the government office, paused, and looked back.

That glance was brief, yet it caused the people standing in the hall to unconsciously lower their heads.

He didn't say anything more, and walked out.

Outside the government office, pedestrians on both sides of the street had already stopped. Some people were whispering among themselves, but immediately fell silent when they saw who it was.

Shen Tingrui boarded the carriage.

The moment the carriage curtain fell, all outside views were cut off.

Almost at the same time, the door to the archives room in the back office of the Ministry of Justice was opened.

One of the officials spread the roster out on the table and called out names to verify them.

“Old case file of the Waterways Administration, thirty-seven boxes.”

"Old inventory records of Shuntian Prefecture warehouses, fourteen boxes."

"The Ministry of War's allocation of copies is listed separately."

The censor from the Censorate next to him looked down at the seal, and after confirming that it was correct, he nodded in acknowledgment.

"lift."

The boxes were carried into the house one by one, making a dull thud when they hit the ground.

All the lights were turned on.

Some people were unsealing the documents, some were transcribing them, and some were checking the dates. Occasionally, someone would look up and exchange a glance, but no one said a word.

In Shuntian Prefecture, the night was spent without rest.

At the warehouse entrance, the guards changed shifts three times. The seals were checked one by one, and even the old stamps on the bottom of the boxes were compared again.

An old official was flipping through the account books when he suddenly stopped.

“This page,” he looked up, “the ink is wrong.”

The person next to him leaned over, glanced at it, and said in a deep voice, "Let's make another list."

The paper was gently pulled out and placed aside.

Amidst all this commotion, there was one person who remained conspicuously absent.

The gates of the Prince of Han's mansion were tightly closed.

On the third and fourth days, the winds outside grew stronger, but the Prince's mansion remained unusually quiet.

Someone submitted a post, which was returned as is.

Someone tried to send a message through a palace attendant, but only received the reply: "Your Highness, please close the gate."

On the morning of the fifth day, in the study inside the Prince's mansion.

Zhu Han closed the last page of the case file and rubbed his knuckles.

What lay spread out on the table were not files from the Ministry of Justice, but several timetables he had compiled himself. Each line contained few words, yet the markings were extremely precise.

Footsteps came from outside the door.

The eunuch whispered, "Your Highness, a report has arrived from the Shuntian Prefecture."

Zhu Han didn't look up: "Speak."

"Last night, someone tried to burn the account books of an old house in the south of the city, but was caught by the night patrol soldiers."

Zhu Han paused, his pen poised.

"What about people?"

"One escaped, two were caught."

What did you take away?

"Stone material acceptance ledger".

Zhu Han nodded and put down his pen.

"understood."

The next morning, an additional report appeared in the Ministry of Justice's archives.

It wasn't sent by Shuntian Prefecture.

It was the Censorate.

The Left Vice Censor-in-Chief came over personally, placed the memorial on the table, and said only one sentence: "Last night someone sent a message to the Ministry of Justice, saying that this case should be under our jurisdiction."

The Minister of Justice opened the memorial, read only the first page, and then closed it.

"Does Prince Han know?"

"Not yet," the Imperial Censor replied.

The Minister of Justice remained silent for a moment, then raised his hand and ordered, "Suppress it for now."

"How long will the pressure last?"

"Wait for someone."

"Who?"

The Minister of Justice looked up and said, "Prince Han."

The gates of the Prince of Han's mansion finally opened.

There was no gong sounding, no ceremonial procession.

Zhu Han changed into casual clothes, came out of the mansion with only two attendants, and went straight to the carriage.

He did not enter the palace.

The carriage stopped in front of the Ministry of Justice.

The official on duty at the gate was taken aback, then quickly saluted and practically ran inside to report.

Zhu Han did not urge him.

He stood under the corridor, his gaze fixed on the polished bluestone slab in front of the Ministry of Justice, as if he were waiting, or perhaps just passing by.

The Minister of Justice came out quickly.

"Your Highness."

Zhu Han nodded: "I'm sorry to bother you."

"Your Highness, what are you saying?" The Minister of Justice stepped aside to invite him inside.

The two entered the inner room, and as soon as the door closed, the sounds from outside were immediately cut off.

Without exchanging pleasantries, the Minister of Justice directly pushed over the supplementary report from the Censorate.

"The case of the old house in the south of the city."

Zhu Han opened it and glanced at it before spotting the crucial part.

"It's not being burned, it's being moved," he said calmly.

The Minister of Justice gave a wry smile: "Yes."

"What did those two arrested people say?"

"They said they were acting under orders, but they only knew one middleman." The Minister of Justice paused. "That man died on the road."

Zhu Han closed the document.

"cause of death?"

"Emergency."

Who performed the autopsy?

The Minister of Justice did not answer immediately.

Zhu Han looked up at him.

"The coroner was transferred from the Waterway Administration last year," the Minister of Justice said in a low voice.

After those words were spoken, the room fell silent.

Zhu Han nodded and didn't ask any further questions.

"Where are the files?"

"It's inside." The Minister of Justice stood up. "Your Highness, would you like to—"

"I'll see for myself."

The Minister of Justice did not insist, but simply ordered people to light lamps.

The case files were carried out box by box.

Zhu Han stood in front of the desk, flipping through the documents one by one.

He read quickly, but not hastily. On each page, he would pause somewhere, as if comparing something.

Until you turn to the last box.

Zhu Han paused, his fingers moving slightly.

"Who copied this page," he said.

The Minister of Justice leaned closer for a look, and his brows immediately furrowed.

"This handwriting... doesn't seem to be from the original hand."

“It’s not that it doesn’t look like him,” Zhu Han said, “it was intentional.”

The Minister of Justice felt a chill run down his spine.

"You can tell?"

“Look here.” Zhu Han pointed to an inconspicuous stroke. “The original hand stroke was quick, but here it’s slower.”

The Minister of Justice remained silent for a long time before finally saying, "I understand."

Zhu Han closed the case file.

"The Ministry of Justice should not take this case."

The Minister of Justice was taken aback: "Then—"

"Send them back to the Censorate," Zhu Han said. "Let them investigate."

"But if this happens—"

“That suits them just fine.” Zhu Han said calmly, “Since they submitted a supplementary petition, they must have been prepared.”

At the same time, the former deputy director of the Waterways Administration took over the administration.

He sat in the main seat, but he felt extremely uncomfortable.

The officials below reported one by one, all talking about routine official business, but he listened absentmindedly.

It wasn't until an official whispered a reminder: "Sir, someone from the Shen residence has arrived."

The deputy envoy was taken aback: "Who?"

"Lord Shen's eldest son."

The deputy envoy's heart tightened, and he quickly had someone invite him in.

When the eldest son of the Shen family entered, he appeared relatively calm and performed his greetings very politely.

"My father asked me to pass on a message."

The deputy envoy dismissed his attendants.

"What?"

“The transfer of case files is the proper procedure,” said the eldest son of the Shen family. “But some old items are private.”

The deputy envoy understood.

"You want to go back?"

“It’s just old family business,” the eldest son of the Shen family said calmly. “It doesn’t involve official matters.” The deputy envoy was silent for a moment.

"I can't make that decision."

The eldest son of the Shen family nodded: "I know."

"Then you come—"

"Just a reminder, sir," the eldest son of the Shen family said, looking at him. "Some things aren't in the office."

The deputy envoy was startled.

At dusk, Zhu Han entered the palace.

This time, he did not go to the Hall of Diligent Conduct, but went directly to the Eastern Palace.

Zhu Biao was discussing matters with several subordinates when he heard that Zhu Han had arrived, and immediately dismissed them.

"Royal Uncle".

Zhu Han cut to the chase: "You know about the old house in the south of the city?"

Zhu Biao nodded: "Someone has already passed the message to me."

"How to say?"

"It is said that someone is using the guise of investigating a case to frame someone."

Zhu Han gave a cold laugh.

"What did you reply?"

“I didn’t reply,” Zhu Biao said. “I stayed in China.”

Zhu Han glanced at him, a hint of approval in his eyes.

"You don't need to do anything for the next few days."

Zhu Biao was taken aback: "Then—"

“They’ll move on their own,” Zhu Han said. “You just need to watch.”

What if someone forces you to take a stand?

Zhu Han stood up.

"Then let them come find me."

It was already late at night when he turned and left the East Palace.

That afternoon, Zhu Han received his first "private invitation" at the Prince's residence.

The post was unsigned.

The person who sent the invitation was well aware of the rules and only said one sentence: "I have an old friend and would like to catch up with the prince."

Zhu Han glanced at the invitation and casually handed it to the eunuch.

"It was burned."

The eunuch was taken aback: "Not here?"

"not see."

He paused, then added, "But let the people in."

The eunuch's heart skipped a beat, but he dared not ask any further questions.

As evening fell, a middle-aged official was led into a side hall.

He was dressed in casual clothes, without any official seal, and looked like a leisurely person. But his steps were steady, and when he entered and bowed, he was extremely precise in his manners.

"Greetings, Your Highness."

Zhu Han sat in the main seat and did not offer his seat.

"who are you?"

The man smiled and said, "Formerly from the Waterway Bureau, I was transferred to the Ministry of Revenue in my early years, and now I am retired."

Zhu Han nodded: "I didn't invite you."

“Yes.” The man did not deny it, “but Your Highness now needs to know some things from the past.”

Zhu Han looked at him.

"for example?"

The man lowered his voice: "For example, how were the accounts handled when the river silver first appeared seventeen years ago?"

Zhu Han finally spoke: "Were you there back then?"

"It's not in the main ledger," the man said frankly, "but in the side ledger."

"Whose subsidiary ledger?"

The man paused for a moment.

"Shen Tingrui's."

The side hall was quiet for a moment.

Zhu Han's tone remained calm: "What are you trying to exchange for by saying all this now?"

The man smiled bitterly: "I dare not ask for anything in return, I only ask that Your Highness remember that I was here today."

Why now?

“Because if it gets any later,” the man looked up, “it won’t be my turn to speak.”

Zhu Han stared at him for a moment, then suddenly asked, "Who sent you?"

The man remained silent.

Zhu Han didn't press him, only saying calmly, "Go back now."

The man was taken aback.

"Your Highness is not going to ask?"

“What you said today is not worth my time to ask,” Zhu Han said, “but you as a person are worth asking.”

The man stood there for a moment, then bowed respectfully and turned to leave.

The eunuch couldn't help but whisper, "Your Highness, are we just going to let him go like this?"

Zhu Han stood up: "If we don't let go, the people behind him won't be in a hurry."

That night, a private residence in the west of the city was brightly lit.

Three people were sitting inside the room.

One was a former member of the Censorate, another came from the Ministry of Revenue, and the third remained silent.

"He saw it," someone whispered.

"How much did you say?"

"Not much, but enough."

The person who had been silent until now finally spoke, his voice low and deep: "How did he react?"

"They didn't keep anyone, nor did they ask any further questions."

The man tapped the table lightly.

"This is troublesome."

Why?

“If he arrests people immediately, it means he’s in a hurry,” the man said. “The fact that he’s not moving now means he already knows there’s more than one of us.”

There was silence in the room.

"And next—"

"Change routes." The man looked up. "Don't go through the river anymore."

Where to go?

"warehouse."

In a side hall of the East Palace, Zhu Biao was discussing matters with several of his subordinates.

There weren't many memorials piled on the desk, but each one was quite heavy. Zhu Biao read them slowly, occasionally asking a question to confirm the details.

"Was this section of the river just repaired last year?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Then why report the disaster?"

The subordinate answered fluently, clearly having been prepared beforehand.

Zhu Biao nodded and put the document aside.

Just then, a palace attendant whispered, "The Shuntian Prefecture reports."

When the memorial was handed over, Zhu Biaoben simply took it without further ado.

But the moment his gaze fell on the question, he paused.

"The military warehouse in the western suburbs?"

He looked up at the Chamberlain beside him.

"How did this kind of memorial end up here with me?"

The Grand Master was also taken aback. He took the document and glanced at it: "Logically speaking, it should first go to the Ministry of War, then to the Ministry of Revenue, and finally be reviewed by the Crown Prince."

Zhu Biao didn't speak, but lowered his head and opened the book.

The content was written in a very formal manner: the granary is old and the beams are rotten, and there is a risk of it collapsing. If it is not repaired as soon as possible, it may delay the supply of military goods.

Every word makes perfect sense.

But as Zhu Biao looked at it, his brows slowly furrowed.

"Didn't the military warehouse in the western suburbs just have an inventory check last autumn?"

The Master thought for a moment and said, "Yes, there is a record."

"What was the report that time?"

"The warehouse is alright, but the storeroom door is a bit old."

Zhu Biao tapped the table surface lightly with his fingers.

"It's acceptable," he repeated.

He didn't ask any further questions, but instead turned to the last page of the document, his gaze lingering on a few numbers.

Military warehouse number: West Suburbs, Yisan.

Zhu Biao's expression clearly changed.

He closed the document, neither issuing a written instruction nor returning it, but simply looked up and said, "Keep this one for now."

The official was taken aback: "Your Highness, this memorial doesn't have the word 'urgent' marked on it, perhaps—"

“I know,” Zhu Biao interrupted him, “Leave it for now.”

The meeting continued, but Zhu Biao's mind was clearly no longer on the previous topic.

After everyone else had left, only he and his personal attendant remained in the hall.

Zhu Biao then picked up the document again and read it once more.

This time, he looked very carefully.

After reading it, he didn't write a single word.

"Go," Zhu Biao suddenly said, "make a copy."

The eunuch was taken aback: "Where should I send it?"

Zhu Biao paused for a moment.

"The Prince of Han's Mansion".

The eunuch's heart tightened, but he didn't ask any further questions and withdrew.

Afternoon, at the Prince of Han's residence.

Zhu Han was reading books in his study.

The files spread out on the table were not from the Ministry of Justice, but rather a few thin sheets of paper that he had compiled himself over the past few days, covered with names and dates.

The eunuch entered quietly and placed a memorial on the corner of the table.

"Your Highness, it was sent from the Crown Prince's Palace."

Zhu Han did not look at it immediately, but asked, "Has the Crown Prince issued any instructions?"

"No," the eunuch said in a low voice, "He only said that he wanted His Highness to take a look."

Zhu Han then reached out and unfolded the folded document.

He didn't read it from the beginning. (End of Chapter)