Da Ming: Father, step aside, I'll be the prime minister!

Chapter 11 The storyteller likes to cut chapters short.

Rooster crow time.

A fast horse galloped down the street and stopped at the entrance of Jianyang Bookstore.

Zhang Yunxiu was shaken awake from his sleep.

"Fifth brother! Fifth brother! It's over! We're finished!"

"You're as good as a dog, you motherfucker."

Before Zhang Yunxiu could utter a single curse, he opened his eyes to see his fourth brother, Zhang Jianxiu, and couldn't help but feel somewhat dissatisfied.

"Zhang Sizhe, why are you looking for me so early in the morning instead of staying in the brothel's gentle embrace?"

Zhang Jianxiu had a mournful face, as if his mother was about to die.

"Fifth Brother, we've been caught! Father found out you stole the Immortal Painting from him, and now the whole capital is looking for us! He says he'll break our legs!"

"Dad found out?" Zhang Yunxiu woke up abruptly from his dream and sat up in bed.

"Yes!" Zhang Jianxiu said dejectedly, briefly recounting what had happened at the manor.

After saying that, Zhang Jianxiu said with a strange expression.

"Fifth Brother, why didn't you take the fake? Why did you hang up that raccoon fairy thing? You're courting death!"

"In a moment of crisis, one must act expediently." Zhang Yunxiu said somewhat awkwardly. "I couldn't find a fake drawing, so I used my own to fill in the gaps. After all, this raccoon fairy is a fairy, you know. I was thinking of changing it in a few days, but I didn't expect this..."

In reality, Zhang Yunxiu still harbored a glimmer of hope. How many years had it been since Zhang Juzheng had visited the study in the back hall? Who would have thought he would suddenly go there?
"We're finished!" Zhang Jianxiu nearly fainted from anger, grabbing Zhang Yunxiu and saying, "We're both finished. Come back with me quickly, we'll kneel down and apologize to Father, and there'll still be a glimmer of hope."

"An apology?" Zhang Yunxiu narrowed his eyes. "Would an apology even be of any use?"

"Or... run away?" Zhang Jianxiu asked tentatively.

"Run your mother's ass!"

Zhang Yunxiu slapped his older brother on the forehead.

"Is it really worth running away over something so trivial?"

"What do you say?"

Fourth Brother Zhang Jianxiu felt somewhat aggrieved, completely unaware that he was being thoroughly controlled by his younger brother.

Zhang Yunxiu pointed to the table, where a stack of newspapers printed that morning were on it.

He then pointed to Zhang Jianxiu's crotch.

He then said, "Our money, if it's not used to make this thing, it'll be sent to the brothel. Do you think we'll have a chance to survive if we go back?"
Running away is also not advisable. The Ming Dynasty is so vast, where would we run to? Are we going to sever our father-son relationship over something so trivial?

"Then what do you suggest?"

Zhang Jianxiu was a rough man; he could go out and arrest people, but when it came to these complicated matters, he was completely incapable.

Zhang Yunxiu narrowed his eyes and said, "Sell newspapers! As long as we sell the newspapers, sell them throughout the capital, and not only the capital but also the Beizhili region, we can earn back this 10,000 taels of silver. Once we get the silver back, we can redeem the Immortal Painting, and things will be much easier with Father."

If the money doesn't come back, we're both finished.

"Can newspapers really make money?" Zhang Jianxiu was still somewhat skeptical.

Zhang Yunxiu, however, was full of confidence: "Don't worry! If we don't make money, is Dad going to beat us both to death?"

Zhang Jianxiu: "."

He stared at his younger brother and began to suspect that the guy was a purebred spendthrift.

On this day, something new appeared on the streets of the capital.

Thirty-Nine Teahouse is not the thirty-ninth teahouse.

It refers to the thirty-nine horses that Zhu Yuanzhang bestowed upon them during the Hongwu era to transport official tea.

Later, with the arrival of merchants, a teahouse named "Thirty-Nine Shops" appeared in the city, which is now the most densely populated place in the capital.

Many lower and middle-class literati in the city, as well as ordinary people in the capital after work, liked to go to teahouses, order a cup of tea and a few side dishes, and chat with a few friends while listening to "Mr. Liu" tell stories in the teahouse.

Mr. Liu arrived a little late today, and the servants were getting impatient.

"Where is Mr. Liu? Tell him to come out!"

"We're paying for this tea because of Mr. Liu!"

"Where does the story of Liangshan Marsh end? Has Song Jiang accepted the imperial amnesty?"

Only when the teahouse was filled with complaints did Mr. Liu, dressed in a Taoist robe and sporting a goatee, slowly emerge.

He climbed onto the wooden platform, gripped the gavel tightly, and slammed it down with a loud "snap."

The noise in the teahouse immediately disappeared.

Mr. Liu's clear and penetrating voice rang out: "Ladies and gentlemen, today we will not discuss Liangshan Marsh."

As soon as these words were spoken, many spectators left their seats. "I came here to watch, and you're not going to talk anymore?"
Mr. Liu remained unaffected by the departure of those who left, calmly stating, "I'm tired of telling the same story of Liangshan Marsh over and over again. Today I've come across a new one, a tale from the works of Prime Minister Di Renjie during the reign of Emperor Wuzong."

During the Ming Dynasty, storytellers, prostitutes, actors, and acrobats were referred to as the "lower nine classes".

This lowly profession was seen by many scholars as no different from being a street rat.

By the mid-to-late Ming Dynasty, the urban class had grown, and many people who worked in the city had some spare money, which they used to frequent teahouses, brothels, and other entertainment venues.

With its popularity, storytelling flourished.

Mr. Liu's original name was Liu Jingting. He was from Yangzhou Prefecture in Southern Zhili. He wandered among the common people since childhood, attended a private school for a few days, and had a fervent love for novels and vernacular stories.

In recent years, he has traveled all over China and finally settled in the capital city.

Mr. Liu's storytelling is concise and to the point, without being verbose. When he gets to the most detailed parts, he shouts and yells, making it very vivid and engaging. This is his specialty.

"During the Longshuo era of Emperor Gaozong of Tang, the Tang Dynasty and Silla joined forces to defeat the allied forces of Baekje and Japan at the Battle of Baekgang. A Baekje woman named Yu Su was abducted and taken back to the Tang Dynasty, where she was forced into prostitution. This is the origin of the 'Gold Case'."

Mr. Liu's hoarse voice immediately piqued the curiosity of the tea drinkers.

Of course, when faced with a completely new story, some people are extremely excited, while others scoff at it.

For example, two tea drinkers sitting in a private room upstairs.

"Old Zhu, what do you think of this 'Detective Dee's Cases of the Tang Dynasty'?"

With a thin face, he looked like a playboy who had indulged in excessive pleasures. He turned to talk to his friend beside him.

"Hmph!" said the short, stout boy named Zhu Yinghuai, gnawing on a roast chicken. "Boring! Another petty case. Those tales written by those poor, pedantic scholars aren't even as interesting as the case files I got from the Ministry of Justice!"

As they spoke, Zhu Yinghuai tore off a chicken leg and handed it over, saying, "Hey~ Zhang Yuanhao, would you like one?"

Calling someone by their given name is crude, but the skinny young master is used to it.

He lowered his voice: "Speak softly. It's not easy for the two of us to come out here. If some officials find out, they will definitely file a complaint with the emperor again, and then Father will punish us again."

"The censors?" Zhu Yinghuai, who was no more than sixteen years old, chuckled. "They won't pay any attention to us. They're busy trying to bring down Zhang Juzheng; they don't have time for us."

Unwilling to discuss matters of the court, Zhang Yuanhao glanced at "Mr. Liu" below the stage, who was speaking passionately.

Hearing things like "Di Gong takes office as magistrate of Penglai County", "the former magistrate dies a violent death", and "the county clerk goes missing", he only felt they were petty and had no interest in them at all.

Both of them were descendants of meritorious officials who helped in the Jingnan Campaign. Zhu Yinghuai came from the lineage of Zhu Neng, and Zhang Yuanhao came from the lineage of Zhang Yu.

The two were of similar age and came from similar family backgrounds. Neither of them were the eldest sons of their families, so they often spent their free time hanging out in the capital.

Listening to audiobooks is one of their favorite forms of entertainment.

The more you hear, the more discerning your tastes become.

Zhang Yuanhao said listlessly, "Today's show is boring. How about we go to the brothel for some fun?"

He narrowed his eyes: "It's not the Jiaofangsi of the brothels, but the Jiaofangsi of the Ministry of Rites."

Zhu Yinghuai spat out the chicken he was eating: "Going to the brothel again? Zhang Yuanhao, are you made of iron? You just slept with four women yesterday, and you're still not stopping today? Go if you want, I can't handle it."

Zhang Yuanhao blushed: "Isn't this just for fun?"

While the two were discussing, "Mr. Liu" in the audience had already told the story two or three times.

Despite their complaints, the two were actually listening to the story as they chatted.

With the previous setup now complete, the story finally enters a phase of conflict and twists, becoming increasingly exciting.

When Di Renjie arrived in Penglai to take up his post, he learned that Magistrate Wang's death was due to poison in a teacup, and there was nothing else suspicious.

After dark, Di Renjie sneaked into the official residence and suddenly encountered trouble.

"Then Judge Di roared, 'Who goes there?' A figure emerged from behind the Taihu rock, staring at him with a blank and strange expression, before silently vanishing into the darkness. Could it be the work of a ghost?"

Mr. Liu's vivid words created an eerie atmosphere, silencing almost all the tea drinkers in the hall.

The tea drinkers who had been dismissive just moments before now had taken an interest.

They usually only hear about poorly made stories of talented men and beautiful women, never about such exquisite tales.
The truly good ones, such as Liangshan Marsh and the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, have been told to death by storytellers, and everyone is already tired of hearing them.

How could I not read the captivating story that just came up?

"That's interesting!" Zhu Yinghuai craned his neck to look down at the audience, his ear turned toward the storyteller, as if trying to hear more clearly.

The story then continues.

"Di Gong obtained a letter."

"Qiao Tai and Ma Rong disguised themselves and boarded the pleasure boat to investigate, and obtained a purple silk bundle."

Suddenly, the sound of gongs and drums rang out in the street. The first act was "The Severed Finger Recognizes the Husband," and the second act was "The Apricot Pit Judgment."

The plot reached its climax when Judge Dee was watching the play.

Even Zhang Yuanhao was captivated. He immediately called over a waiter and pointed to "Mr. Liu" below the stage.

"Go and get Mr. Liu a cup of good tea. Put the cost on my tab."

"Dele!"

The waiter immediately went to do it with a smile.

Zhu Yinghuai also exclaimed in admiration, "This development is interesting! I wonder who wrote this story. I have been immersed in novels and storytelling for many years, but I have never seen such a novel story."

There were detective novels in the Ming Dynasty, but most of them had rigid plots and were nowhere near as exciting and suspenseful as the detective novels of later generations.

Zhang Yunxiu used "The Cases of Judge Dee of the Tang Dynasty" as a blueprint and made some adaptations, so he was sure these people would like it.

Just as a landscape painting is not meant to be flat, the story of "The Great Tang Detective Cases" unfolds like a rollercoaster, keeping the audience's emotions fluctuating wildly, yet it's almost addictive.

Having received the fine tea, Mr. Liu put in even more effort in his performance, and a loud popping sound came from his mouth.

With a clang, the gong fell to the ground, and it felt like a thunderbolt struck Di Renjie's heart. He suddenly realized and said, "I understand what happened."

At this point in the story, all the listeners craned their necks, held their breath, and wanted to hear what the rest of the truth would be.

Zhu Yinghuai and Zhang Yuanhao were no longer in the side room; the two of them were leaning on the railing, afraid of missing a single word.

"What's the truth? Tell me now!"

Zhu Yinghuai was so anxious that he kept stamping his feet.

(End of this chapter)