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

Who's on duty inside?

"Manager Chen is here."

The person in charge's face darkened: "Find the person for me!"

When the warehouse door was forced open, the fire had already spread inwards along the beams and pillars.

Some people coughed from the smoke, while others slipped while carrying buckets of water, spilling all the water on the ground.

"Over here! There are still people over here!"

Two soldiers dragged a man out of a side storehouse.

The man's clothes were charred, his hair was singed and curled up, and his face was covered in soot.

It is Chen Fu.

He was pressed heavily to the ground, his wrists twisted behind his back, and he could barely even kneel steadily.

"Chen Fu!" The magistrate of Shuntian Prefecture strode up to him, his voice louder than the roar of the fire, "Who gave you permission to move the warehouse at night?!"

Chen Fu raised his head.

The firelight reflected in his eyes, making them glow red.

His lips moved, but no sound came out.

It felt like something was tightly gripping my throat, leaving only rapid, labored breathing.

The person in charge was furious: "Speak!"

Chen Fu remained silent.

A soldier nearby couldn't help but curse, "Still pretending to be mute at a time like this?!"

Just then, a shout suddenly came from the ruins:

"Sir! There's something here!"

The person in charge suddenly turned around.

Several people were carefully lifting a charred wooden box out of the half-collapsed side warehouse.

The wooden box cracked open, and the paper inside was burned and curled up, but not completely destroyed.

The person in charge took a step closer.

By the light of the fire, he could make out the words on the cover.

—Military warehouse repairs, supplementary account.

The air seemed to suddenly turn cold.

The person in charge's expression changed instantly.

"Who gave you permission to touch the subsidiary ledger?" He turned around abruptly and looked at Chen Fu.

Chen Fu's shoulders trembled violently.

This time, he finally made a sound.

But it was just a low, almost inaudible gasp.

The person in charge took a deep breath and raised his hand.

"Someone come here."

"exist!"

"Seal off the scene immediately!" His voice was icy and hard. "Everyone, do not touch a single piece of wood or a single sheet of paper!"

“Who started this fire?” He glanced at the still-burning warehouse. “They have to give me an explanation.”

By the time the fire was brought under control, it was already dawn.

All that remained of the Yisan military warehouse was a charred skeleton; most of the beams had collapsed, and ashes were still emitting wisps of smoke.

The air was filled with the smell of burnt wood and damp earth, which made people's throats ache.

The people of Shuntian Prefecture did not disperse.

The person in charge stood by the ruins, the hem of his cloak stained black with ash, but he paid no heed to it.

His gaze remained fixed on the wooden box that was placed alone on the stone steps.

The wooden box was cracked.

The account books inside were wrapped layer by layer with damp cloth, for fear that they would be burned by sparks again.

“My lord,” an official whispered, “the fire has been completely extinguished.”

The person in charge nodded, but did not turn around.

“Move the ledger to a clean place,” he said. “Right here, where everyone can see.”

The subordinate was taken aback: "Count them now?"

"Now," the person in charge said firmly, "while it's still light, while everyone is still here."

"Also, before—the people who shouldn't come arrive."

Upon hearing this, the expressions of the surrounding officials visibly tightened.

A makeshift table was set up outside the ruins.

The subsidiary ledger was carefully laid out.

The paper was brittle from the fire, with charred edges, yet it could still be turned.

A clerk responsible for taking notes sat down, his hands trembling slightly.

"Read it," the chief said.

The clerk cleared his throat and bowed his head.

"In the fourteenth year of Hongwu, the Yisan Military Granary in the western suburbs... cost 3,200 taels of silver for repairs."

He paused subconsciously when he read this part.

"Continue," the person in charge said.

"Actual expenditure... 1,080 taels."

Suddenly, all around fell silent.

Some people subconsciously looked up at the person in charge, then quickly looked down again.

The clerk licked his lips and continued reading.

"In the sixteenth year of Hongwu, the Yisan military granary...repaired with 4,000 taels of silver."

"Actual amount...1,500 taels."

By this point, the clerk's voice had become somewhat weak.

“The next one,” the person in charge suddenly said, “read it all in one breath.”

The clerk responded and reluctantly continued.

One stroke.

Another stroke.

The numbers are getting more and more glaring.

Someone couldn't help but whisper, "This...this isn't just exaggerating, it's embezzling silver."

As soon as the words were spoken, someone coughed.

The man immediately fell silent.

The person in charge did not reprimand them.

He simply raised his head slowly and looked at Chen Fu standing to the side.

Chen Fu knelt on the ground, his back slumped, looking as if he had aged ten years.

"These accounts," the manager asked, "were you the one who kept them?"

Chen Fu did not answer immediately.

After a long while, he whispered, "...Yes."

"Who told you to remember it this way?"

Chen Fu's hands were gripping the ground tightly.

"Speak." The person in charge's voice was not loud, but it was extremely deep.

Chen Fu's lips trembled.

"Bing...Bingbu."

The moment those two words were uttered, it felt as if someone had pressed down hard on the area around them.

The air suddenly froze.

Someone instinctively took half a step back.

The person in charge, however, seemed to have expected this and simply nodded.

Which department within the Ministry of War?

Chen Fu closed his eyes, as if he had used up all his strength.

"Right...Right Vice Minister's Residence."

This time, even her breathing became cautious.

The manager closed the ledger, his fingers lingering on the cover for a moment.

“Okay,” he said. “That’s enough.”

He turned to his subordinates and said:
"The deputy account book is to be kept intact and immediately sent to the government office to be sealed in the treasury."

"In addition," he said, his gaze sweeping over everyone, "we have retrieved all the official accounts, disbursement documents, and official correspondence between the Ministry of War and the Yisan Military Warehouse for the past twenty years, without missing a single one."

Someone hesitated for a moment: "Sir, this has already involved—"

The person in charge interrupted him.

"Who is involved is not up to you or me to decide."

He paused, his tone growing colder.

"But this fire has already spread to the bottom of the steps."

At the same time, at the Prince Han's Mansion.

The eunuch gently placed the report sent by Shuntian Prefecture on the table.

Zhu Han glanced at it.

"The secondary ledger was not destroyed."

"Yes."

Zhu Han closed the paper.

"That's good," he said.

"Once the accounts are out, the fire wasn't burned in vain."

The document for filing the case with Shuntian Prefecture was sent out at 3:45 AM.

There was no urgent report on the red envelope, nor any exaggerated wording.

The cause of action was only written in eight characters—

"A fire broke out at the Yisan Military Warehouse in the western suburbs, and there are irregularities in the accounts involved."

However, in the "Involved Government Offices" section, for the first time, two words were clearly written:
Ministry of War.

When the document was delivered into the main hall of the government office, the hall was unusually quiet.

The official stood before the desk, the pen hovering for a moment before finally making the last stroke.

The ink was not yet dry.

He looked up at the subordinate official beside him.

“As is customary,” he said, “the relevant princely residence must be notified.”

The subordinate hesitated for a moment: "Sir, you mean...?"

The person in charge did not answer immediately.

He reached out and turned another page of the document.

When the Prince of Han's residence received the document, Zhu Han was having breakfast.

After listening to the eunuch read the message, he did not immediately express his opinion.

He didn't look up until the words "Shuntian Prefecture has officially filed a case" were uttered.

"Ministry of War," Zhu Han repeated.

The eunuch whispered, "Yes, it's written in the document."

Zhu Han put down his chopsticks and picked up the document.

He read very slowly.

He smiled slightly when he saw the "abnormal accounting" message.

It wasn't a sneer.

It's more like a confirmation.

“They wrote with great restraint,” Zhu Han said.

"But restraint is what demonstrates—"

He closed the document.

"They have no intention of stopping."

The eunuch hesitated for a moment: "Your Highness, the Shuntian Prefecture is sending the case to the Ministry of War, which is equivalent to... including Your Highness in the case."

Zhu Han nodded.

"Yes." "Then is it necessary to—"

“No need,” Zhu Han interrupted him. “I won’t file a case.”

The eunuch was taken aback.

Zhu Han stood up and walked to the window.

The morning light fell on his shoulders, making him appear extremely serene.

“The case concerns Shuntian Prefecture,” he said. “I only do one thing.”

"what's up?"

Zhu Han turned around.

"Let them investigate further."

At the same time, at the Shuntian Prefecture government office.

The Ministry of War's first response has been delivered.

The wording was tactful, and the attitude was cooperative.

"The Yisan Military Warehouse was repaired in the past, and there are records to prove it." "The relevant officials may have been transferred." "The Ministry of War is willing to provide full assistance."

After reading it, the official simply placed the document aside.

“They’re stalling,” the subordinate whispered.

“I know,” the person in charge said.

He raised his hand and pointed to another stack of documents.

"Make a copy of these copies exactly as they were."

The subordinate glanced at it and his eyelids twitched.

Those were the clearest entries in the ledger.

"Send it directly to the Ministry of War?" the official asked.

"No." The person in charge shook his head.

"Send it to the Prince of Han's residence."

When the message was delivered to Prince Han's residence again, Zhu Han was changing his clothes.

After hearing the report, his smile deepened.

“They are very smart,” Zhu Han said.

"Knowing that Shuntian Prefecture couldn't withstand the Ministry of War's pressure, they settled the accounts—"

He paused.

"Pass it to me."

The eunuch whispered, "Your Highness, would you like to return the bill?"

Zhu Han looked at the few pages of copied subsidiary ledgers.

"Returning it is tantamount to denying it."

"Accepting it means—"

He tapped his fingertip on the paper.

"I'm looking."

Zhu Han put the account book back on the table.

"Report back to the Shuntian Prefecture," he said.

“Tell them.”

The eunuch held his breath.

"The Prince of Han's residence will not interfere in the interrogation," Zhu Han said calmly. "But—"

He looked up.

"If there are any obstacles to transferring files involving the Ministry of War, you can come directly to get my name card."

These words were spoken very softly.

The rear office of the Ministry of War, a side hall.

The door was closed tightly.

The window was also half-closed.

There were three people sitting inside the room.

One was a clerk, one was a doctor, and one was an old master who had already submitted his retirement petition but had not yet completed the formalities.

The tea had long since gone cold.

But nobody touched it.

“Shuntian Prefecture,” the old master finally spoke, his voice extremely low, “this time they’re serious.”

The clerk sneered, "When have they ever not been serious? In the end, it always comes down to—"

He didn't finish his sentence.

The doctor suddenly looked up.

“This time is different.”

"What's different?"

The doctor glanced at him.

"The document mentions the Prince of Han."

The room fell silent.

The clerk's expression changed slightly: "Didn't he not file a case?"

“Not filing a case doesn’t mean we didn’t examine it,” the doctor said slowly.

The old master put down his teacup with a soft thud.

“When he saw it,” he said, “the Shuntian Prefecture was no longer afraid.”

“Shuntian Prefecture is not afraid,” he raised his eyes, “then we should be afraid.”

After a brief silence, the clerk suddenly spoke.

"I took over that business three years ago."

The doctor was taken aback.

The steward continued, "The repairs on Yisan were done before mine."

The old man looked at him but didn't say anything.

The clerk spoke faster and faster: "I signed the accounts, but I didn't change the numbers, and I didn't handle the money—if you really want to investigate, you should investigate further back."

The doctor understood and his heart tightened.

This is—drawing a line.

"What do you mean?" the doctor asked in a low voice.

The clerk chuckled: "Just trying to protect myself."

Whom do you want to push forward?

The clerk remained silent for a moment.

He uttered two words.

"Old accounts".

The old master closed his eyes.

"Are you trying to flip the table?"

“No, we’re not flipping it over,” the clerk shook his head. “We’re pushing the table forward.”

"If we don't push it now, Prince Han will have to lift it himself."

At the same time, in another courtyard of the Ministry of War.

Zhou Jing'an was reading documents.

One letter after another.

Some were requests for instructions, while others were "explanations of the situation."

The wording was respectful and the tone was restrained.

But between the lines, a common thread has begun to emerge.

— Cutting.

"When this happened, I was not yet in charge of this department."

"The relevant funds will be disbursed in accordance with the old practice."

"I have limited knowledge of the matters handled by my predecessor."

Zhou Jing'an's hand slowly clenched.

“They’re selling me,” he whispered.

His trusted confidants dared not speak.

“It’s not selling me.” Zhou Jing’an suddenly laughed, a chilling laugh. “It’s selling the Ministry of War.”

After he finished speaking, he threw the document onto the table.

"Go," Zhou Jing'an said, "and invite the officials here."

His confidant was startled: "Now?"

"Now."

By the time everyone had arrived, it was already getting dark.

The lights in the room were on very brightly.

Zhou Jing'an sat at the head of the table, without exchanging pleasantries.

"You've all heard about the case in Shuntian Prefecture," he said bluntly.

No one responded.

"Regarding the accounts at Yisan Military Warehouse," he glanced around, "gentlemen, does anyone have anything to explain?"

A doctor stepped forward.

“Lord Zhou,” he cupped his hands in greeting, “this humble official is willing to fully cooperate with the Shuntian Prefecture in investigating the case.”

That sounds like a sincere statement.

But Zhou Jing'an understood another meaning.

"Cooperate?" He stared at the other person. "To what extent?"

The doctor bowed his head.

"Say what needs to be said."

"Don't take on responsibilities you shouldn't."

As soon as those words were spoken, the breathing of the people in the room became disordered.

Zhou Jing'an slowly stood up.

“You think,” he said in a very soft voice, “that you can just clear your name and everything will be fine?”

No one dared to answer.

Zhou Jing'an suddenly laughed.

"King Han," he said, "is most fond of people like you—"

He paused.

"People who rush to protect themselves."

late at night.

The lights in the Prince Han's mansion were still on.

Zhu Han stood by the study window, wearing an overcoat. There was no wind outside, but the shadows of the trees in the courtyard swayed slightly under the lamplight, as if being moved by something unseen.

What lay on the table was neither a document from the Shuntian Prefecture nor a reply from the Ministry of War.

It was an old file.

The paper is slightly yellow and the edges are frayed, indicating that it was made in the early years of the Taizu Emperor's reign.

Zhu Han's gaze lingered on the signature.

He stared at it for a long time.

So long that the eunuchs tried several times to ask for more lamps, but he stopped them each time by raising his hand.

"Who sent this account book?" Zhu Han suddenly asked.

The eunuch replied in a low voice, "The head of the Shuntian Prefecture said it was found in the hidden compartment of the secondary ledger. Originally... it wasn't in the files."

“It’s not in the file,” Zhu Han repeated softly.

He reached out and turned the page to the back.

There are no words on the back.

However, there was a very faint finger mark, as if someone had repeatedly pressed the same spot.

Zhu Han's fingertip landed right there.

“Someone doesn’t want it to see the light of day,” he said. (End of Chapter)