Jingtai: Making the Ming Dynasty Great Again

Chapter 158 Silk and Porcelain?

In an inconspicuous teahouse outside Jubao Gate in the southwest of Nanjing.

Lu Zhong sat by the window, holding a cup of coarse tea in his hands.

My gaze remained fixed on the side gate of the mansion across the street.

That was the villa of Zhao Hui, the Imperial Son-in-Law and Commandant.

As the commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, Lu Zhong should have been stationed in Beijing.

However, the Nanjing incident was of great importance, and Zhu Qiyu personally instructed that one team should be in the open and the other in the shadows.

With Lu Gao's death, Lu Zhong is now the only member of the Embroidered Uniform Guard capable of undertaking this important task.

So Lu Zhong "disappeared".

He is still handling official business in the capital.

In fact, he arrived in Nanjing earlier than the investigation team, and every day he changed his clothes and secretly investigated information in various parts of the city.

He set his sights on Zhao Hui three days ago.

This Imperial Son-in-Law Commandant was of the same generation as the son-in-law of the founding emperor.

He wasn't among the top elites in Nanjing, but his social circle was surprisingly extensive.

Lu Zhong's men followed him for five days and discovered that he would leave the city every three or four days.

They all went to the same place.

Zhao Hui went out again today.

Lu Zhong put down his teacup, got up, and walked out of the teahouse.

Today he is disguised as a cloth merchant.

With a satchel slung over his shoulder, he followed Zhao Hui's sedan chair at a leisurely pace.

The sedan chair wound its way through the city before finally stopping at the entrance of a quiet alley.

After getting out of the sedan chair and dismissing the sedan bearers, Zhao Hui walked alone into the alley.

Lu Zhong did not follow them inside, but instead turned into a general store across the alley.

The shopkeeper had become one of his men.

The second-floor window facing the street offers a perfect view of the end of that alley.

At the end of the alley is an inconspicuous little door with no signboard.

But Lu Zhong had already found out that it was Zhao Hui's private property: a private dock.

An hour later, Zhao Hui emerged from the small door, followed by two people.

The two men were dressed in ordinary people's short tunics.

But Lu Zhong could not hide his walking posture from him.

He was a man who made a living on a boat year-round; his legs were slightly bowed, but his steps were steady and powerful.

Zhao Hui whispered a few words to the two men at the alley entrance, and then the two men headed towards the dock.

Zhao Hui then boarded another sedan chair waiting at the alley entrance and returned the way he came.

Lu Zhong went downstairs and whispered to the shopkeeper, "Keep an eye on those two people, see which boat they go on and what's on board."

The shopkeeper quickly and silently disappeared into the crowd.

As evening fell, Lu Zhong returned to the backyard of the teahouse.

The shopkeeper was already there waiting for him: "Sir, the matter has been investigated."

Those two men were the crew members of the Shunfeng ship.

SF Express is a 500-ton cargo ship that regularly runs the route from Taicang to Nanjing.

This afternoon we loaded a batch of goods, and we're leaving for Taicangwei first thing tomorrow morning.

"What goods?"

"The ship was half full of silk and porcelain. The buyer was a merchant company called Haiyuan from Taicangwei."

Lu Zhong frowned slightly.

Silk and porcelain were export goods controlled by the imperial court.

Although private trade is not prohibited, such a large quantity was being transported to Taicangwei.

That was the starting point for Zheng He's voyages to the Western Ocean.

He suddenly remembered that Liu Dun had met the boatmen by the river a few days ago.

The boatman's mention of "Official Chen" seems to have also led to the Taicang connection.

"Keep an eye on SF Express. We need to find out exactly what goods it loads up and brings back after it arrives in Taicang."

The shopkeeper accepted the order and left.

Lu Zhong sat alone in the dimly lit room, writing down a few names on a piece of paper by the light of an oil lamp: Zhao Hui, Shunfeng, Haiyuan Trading Company, Taicang Guard.

He then added a question mark next to it: Chen E?

What did Imperial Censor Chen discover back then?

Why was he transferred?

Do these things have anything to do with Zhao Hui now?

Lu Zhong didn't know the answer.

But he knew he was getting close to something.

On the other side, in the post station.

Liu Dun was also looking through the files he had borrowed from the Censorate during the day under the lamplight.

He found Chen E's resume:

He was from Ji'an Prefecture, Jiangxi Province, and became a Jinshi (a successful candidate in the highest imperial examinations) in the nineteen

During the Xuande era, he served as the Supervising Censor of Fujian Circuit.

In the sixth year of the Zhengtong reign, he was transferred to the Nanjing Metropolitan Procuratorate.

In the tenth year of the Zhengtong reign, he was transferred to Guangxi as the Assistant Surveillance Commissioner.

He died in office in the twelfth year of the Zhengtong reign.

The few lines of text did not reveal anything unusual.

But Liu Dun noticed a detail.

Chen E was transferred from Nanjing in March of the tenth year of the Zhengtong reign.

In February of that year, the Nanjing Metropolitan Procuratorate sent a secret memorial to Beijing.

The contents of the secret report were not recorded in the archives, only a number was left: Zhengyi 027.

Liu Dun closed the file and rubbed his sore eyes.

The sound of the night watchman's clapper came from outside the window; it was already the second watch of the night.

The next day, Liu Dun visited the archives of the Nanjing Metropolitan Procuratorate again.

This warehouse, located at the deepest part of the courtyard, is rarely visited.

The air was filled with the mixed smell of old paper and moth-repelling herbs.

Several rows of tall wooden shelves were densely packed with various scrolls dating back to the Hongwu era.

Liu Dun needs to find the case files that Chen E handled back then.

A voice came from the doorway: "Imperial Censor Liu, are you still looking?"

Liu Dun looked up and saw a clerk in his forties standing by the door.

This man, surnamed Sun, was a veteran clerk in the Censorate, having worked in the archives for over twenty years.

He was the one who led the way when Liu Dun came to check the archives yesterday.

Liu Dun rubbed his sore eyes and smiled, "Scribe Sun."

Clerk Sun walked in and whispered, "Imperial Censor Liu, the Imperial Censor Chen you are looking for—I might know something about him."

Liu Dun's spirits lifted: "Oh? What do you know?"

Clerk Sun glanced back at the door before lowering his voice and saying, "Censor Chen investigated a case back then, but then suddenly stopped investigating and was transferred away."

The case file isn't in the archives.

Liu Dun stared at him: "Where?"

Instead of answering directly, Clerk Sun took out a slip of paper from his sleeve and handed it over: "This is a former subordinate of Imperial Censor Chen, who now lives outside the city."

If Imperial Censor Liu really wants to investigate, he might as well ask him.

But—don't say I said it.

Liu Dun took the slip of paper, which had an address written on it: outside Shence Gate, Willow Tree Village, third household.

He put away the note and bowed deeply to Clerk Sun: "Thank you."

After waving his hand, Clerk Sun hurriedly left.

The next morning, Liu Dun changed into an ordinary blue cloth robe, hired a donkey, and went out of the city alone.

Shence Gate was the northern gate of Nanjing; once outside the gate lay the countryside.

In early December, the fields were bare, with only a few vegetable patches showing glimpses of green.

Liu Dun walked along the official road for about an hour, then turned onto a dirt road and saw a village in the distance.

Willow Village is small, with only twenty or thirty households.

At the entrance of the village stand several old willow trees, their leaves long since fallen, their bare branches swaying in the cold wind.

Liu Dun counted the doors and found the third household.

This is a simple farmhouse with earthen walls and a thatched roof, with some firewood piled up in the yard.

Liu Dun knocked on the wooden door, and an old voice came from inside: "Who is it?"

The door opened quickly, and an elderly man in his sixties stood inside, sizing up Liu Dun with a hint of wariness in his eyes: "Sir..."

Who should I look for?