Spoiled and mad critic of powerful ministers

Pei Zhihui seized her wrist and pulled her closer with a little force.

"What you're saying, Madam, is utterly unreasonable." He looked up at her, his pale, handsome face bearing a hint of innocence. "With my health condition, I'm bedridden all day, so I need to find some enjoyment. Besides, this book is full of descriptions of the coldness and cruelty of the world; how is it all a mess?"

"The world is cold and heartless?" Shen Qiongju laughed angrily, flipping to the page Xiao Tao had just read aloud, pointing to the words, "You call this the coldness of the world? This is blatant debauchery!"

Pei Zhihui chuckled softly. His chest vibrated, triggering a slight cough.

Shen Qiongju's expression immediately changed. She quickly put down her book and reached out to pat his back to help him catch his breath. "I told you not to be stubborn, but you wouldn't listen."

Pei Zhihui leaned against her, his cheek against her waist, and took a deep breath of her orchid fragrance.

"Qiongju," he called her name, his voice a little hoarse.

"What?" Shen Qiongju replied irritably, but softened her movements.

"What's written in that book seems quite interesting to me." Pei Zhihui raised his head, his gaze falling on her fair neck. "However, what you learn from books is never enough; you must experience it for yourself to truly understand."

Shen Qiongju was stunned for a moment, then realized what he meant, and her face turned bright red.

"Pei Zhihui! What's going on in your head?" She struggled to stand up. "You're a cripple now, stop thinking about nonsense!"

"A useless person?" Pei Zhihui raised an eyebrow, a hint of danger in his tone. "Is Madam looking down on me?"

He suddenly flipped his wrist, grabbed Shen Qiongju's belt, and pulled hard.

Caught off guard, Shen Qiongju fell onto the chaise lounge, landing right on top of him.

"Ugh—" Pei Zhihui let out a muffled groan, his brows furrowing slightly.

Shen Qiongju was startled and quickly sat up. "Did I crush you? Let me see..."

She was just about to get up when a large hand pressed down on the back of her head. Pei Zhihui's face was inches away, his breath warm and carrying a faint bitter smell of medicine.

"You didn't press on it," he whispered, his nose brushing against hers. "You pressed on my heart."

Shen Qiongju's heart skipped a beat.

This man, when he gets shameless, it's absolutely outrageous.

Pei Zhihui rolled over, pinning her beneath him. The chaise lounge was already cramped, and the two were pressed tightly together. His white fox fur coat slipped down to reveal a moon-white undergarment. The collar was slightly open, revealing his pale yet still well-defined collarbones.

Shen Qiongju pushed his chest, but didn't dare to use force. "Stop fooling around, there are still people in the yard."

"No one's here." Pei Zhihui lowered his head and kissed her lips. "Pei An dismissed everyone."

Shen Qiongju's eyes widened; so this person had planned this all along!

Pei Zhihui's kiss was not rough, but rather carried a hint of cautious probing. He traced the shape of her lips little by little, his tongue prying open her teeth and tasting the saliva in her mouth.

Shen Qiongju initially wanted to refuse, but when she felt his rapid breathing and slightly trembling arms, her heart softened instantly.

She closed her eyes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and tentatively responded.

This response completely ignited Pei Zhihui's long-suppressed anger.

His kiss grew passionate, with an irresistible aggressiveness. His hand traced her waistline upwards, untying the ties of her outer garment.

The spring breeze from Jiangnan, carrying a touch of warmth, blew into the half-open courtyard gate.

Shen Qiongju's outer garment was stripped off, leaving her only in a snow-white, soft satin undergarment. Her skin was fair, gleaming with a lustrous sheen in the sunlight.

Pei Zhihui's gaze darkened. He lowered his head, his lips landing on her collarbone, gently nibbling.

"Hiss—" Shen Qiongju gasped, her body trembling slightly. "It hurts..."

Pei Zhihui softened his grip, using the tip of his tongue to soothe the red mark he had left. "Qiongju, you're so beautiful."

His hand, through the thin fabric, covered that soft surface.

Shen Qiongju trembled, her face turning as red as if it were about to bleed. She bit her lower lip, trying to suppress the sound that was about to escape her throat.

Although Pei Zhihui was physically weak, he possessed extraordinary patience and skill in this regard. He seemed to know exactly how to arouse her emotions; each swipe of his fingertips sent shivers down her spine.

"Zhihui..." Shen Qiongju's voice was soft as water, with a hint of pleading, "Go back inside..."

It's so embarrassing to be seen here at any time.

Pei Zhihui, however, refused to give up. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, greedily inhaling her scent.

"Right here," he gasped, his voice hoarse. "I want you here."

Shen Qiongju couldn't persuade him otherwise, so she could only let him act recklessly.

The chaise lounge made a slight swaying sound.

Pei Zhihui's physical strength was indeed not as good as before. Before long, his forehead was covered with fine beads of sweat, and his breathing became heavy.

Shen Qiongju felt sorry for him and took the initiative to reach out and untie his belt.

"I'll do it..." she said softly, blushing.

Pei Zhihui took her hand and kissed it. "No need, I'm fine."

Men's competitive spirit is always exceptionally strong at this time.

He mustered his last breath and led her to the summit.

After everything calmed down, Pei Zhihui collapsed onto Shen Qiongju, utterly exhausted, his chest heaving violently. His undergarment was soaked with sweat and clung tightly to his back.

Shen Qiongju took a blanket from the side and wrapped them both up. She pulled her sleeve over and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"You're just being stubborn," she complained softly, her voice full of concern.

Pei Zhihui turned his head and kissed her cheek. "This isn't about showing off, it's about having fun."

Shen Qiongju rolled her eyes at him, too lazy to pay him any attention.

Before the panting on the chaise longue had completely subsided, a series of hurried footsteps suddenly sounded outside the courtyard gate.

Military boots clattered heavily on the cobblestones. Pei An stopped outside the moon gate, turned his back, and said in a stiff tone, "Master, urgent dispatch from the capital."

These four words tear open a hole in the enchanting beauty of a spring afternoon in Jiangnan.

Pei Zhihui didn't even lift his eyelids. He leaned lazily against the soft pillows, one arm around Shen Qiongju's waist, the other slowly and deliberately adjusting his clothes. His fingers were long and slender, and his movements exuded a nonchalant and casual air.

"Bring it in."

Pei An lowered his head and carried a letter in both hands as he entered the courtyard. The envelope was sealed with the red sealing wax reserved for the Imperial Cabinet and bore a top-secret seal.

Shen Qiongju stared at the sealing wax, her palms sweating. She knew all too well the weight of that seal.

Pei Zhihui took the letter, pinched the edge of the envelope with two fingers, and gently tore it open. He pulled out the two thin pages of paper inside, unfolded them, glanced at them, and let out a low chuckle.

"Lin Qingyuan, that bookworm, actually writes quite well. His strokes are straight and neat, like they were printed from a stereotype."

He handed the letter to Shen Qiongju.

Shen Qiongju took the letter with some skepticism. The letter was filled with tiny, meticulously written characters. She gasped after reading just the first line.

This is not a plea for help at all; it is a menacing "report card."

Less than half a month after assuming the position of Vice Minister of the Chancellery, Lin Qingyuan implemented three drastic measures. First, he discovered that the Minister of Revenue had falsified accounts during the autumn grain harvest, embezzling 300,000 taels of silver. Instead of the usual joint trial by the three judicial departments, Lin Qingyuan directly used the Great Sheng Code, along with the Imperial Guards, to raid the Minister of Revenue's residence. The men were exiled three thousand li away, and the women were forced into the brothels.

Immediately afterwards, the two ministers of the Ministry of Rites and the Ministry of Works were stripped of their official robes and imprisoned in the imperial prison after Lin Qingyuan uncovered evidence that they had used inferior materials in the renovation of the late emperor's mausoleum.

What's even more audacious is that the two powerful families in the capital, the Wang family in the east and the Li family in the south, were remnants of Prince Shou's faction and had been secretly colluding to stir up trouble after Pei Zhihui left the capital.

Lin Qingyuan unearthed a ten-year-old case involving their illegal acquisition of fertile land and the resulting deaths. He reopened the case, swiftly and decisively eliminating the threat. The two families' century-old businesses were uprooted overnight.

The gold, silver, jewelry, antiques, and paintings confiscated filled 120 horse-drawn carts and were hauled into the national treasury in a grand procession.

In the middle of the letter, Lin Qingyuan reported an astonishing figure in the simplest language: the national treasury's cash reserves had doubled since Pei Zhihui left the capital.

Shen Qiongju read it word by word, speechless for a long time. She had originally thought that after Pei Zhihui left, the court would go through a period of adjustment. Those officials who had been suppressed for so long would inevitably rebel.

Who could have predicted that this sixth-rank Hanlin scholar promoted by Pei Zhihui would be completely undisciplined in officialdom?

He didn't use political maneuvering or factional infighting. He only held the Great Law in his hand. Whoever broke the law, he would chop off their head. Simple, brutal, yet utterly impeccable.

"You predicted this all along?" Shen Qiongju folded the letter and looked at the man in front of her with a complicated expression.

Pei Zhihui picked up the now-cold tea beside him and took a sip: "Lin Qingyuan is a lone minister. He has no family, no cronies, not even friends. This kind of person is best suited to be a cleaner. Those old foxes want to reason with him about human relationships, but he only knows how to twist the law. The wicked need the wicked to grind them down. If this court is left to him, it won't descend into chaos."

Shen Qiongju unfolded the letter again and turned to the last page.

At the end of the letter, Lin Qingyuan's handwriting changed slightly, seemingly carrying a hint of hesitation. He wrote methodically:

[This humble official is of limited talent and learning, and fears he may not be able to maintain the authority of the court for long. May I ask, Your Excellency, now that you are fully recovered, when will you return to the capital to preside over the affairs of state? The entire court and the people eagerly await your swift return.]

Pei Zhihui took the letter from her hand, twirled it with his fingertips, and placed the two pages next to the small red clay stove where tea was being brewed.

Flames licked the edges of the paper. The orange glow illuminated his pale profile. The fire spread rapidly, engulfing the priceless secret letter. Ashes swirled into the air before settling back into the embers.

"Back to Beijing? Back to what Beijing?"

He dusted off his hands, stretched out his long arm, and wrapped it around Shen Qiongju's waist, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He greedily inhaled the orchid scent emanating from her clothes, his voice muffled, tinged with a self-righteous languor.

"I'm now a useless man who can't even lift a folding book. I'll just stay in Jiangnan and live off my wife for the rest of my life. You can't abandon me after starting something."

He spoke these words without the slightest guilt. The once all-powerful regent now nestled comfortably under her wing like a cat that had folded its claws.

Shen Qiongju pushed his head, but he wouldn't budge. She scolded him for being "pathetic," but a genuine smile appeared in her eyes and brows. The string that had been taut for so many days finally relaxed completely.

She no longer needs to be on guard against assassins in the capital day and night, nor does she need to worry about him risking his life for the greater good one day.

He abandoned his empire and chose her.

"It's fine to be a kept man." Shen Qiongju grabbed a strand of his long hair and tugged it gently, "But I have to clean up the mess in Jiangnan. Those salt merchants from the thirty-six merchant guilds won't be so easy to deal with."

Pei Zhihui closed his eyes, letting her play with his hair: "Go ahead and do it."

Spring rain in the water towns of Jiangnan comes and goes without warning.

Fine raindrops pattered against the banana leaves in Zhenliu Garden, making a rustling sound.

Shen Qiongju sat behind a large rosewood desk in the main courtyard's council hall. A stack of account books, half a foot high, was piled on the desk. These were all transaction records from thirty-six merchant guilds in Jiangnan.

Du Hengniang stood to the side, holding a small copper scale in her hand, weighing a newly minted ingot of official silver.

"Qiongju, something's not right." Du Hengniang tossed the silver ingots into the tray, making a crisp clinking sound. "These past few days, rice prices in Suzhou, Yangzhou, and Hangzhou have been rising. The grain stocks of all the major grain stores have been secretly bought up."

Shen Qiongju turned to a page of the account book and drew a circle on it with a vermilion pen.

"What about the salt permit?"

"The salt permits are even more treacherous. All the new permits issued by the Salt Commissioner's Office are held by a few large merchants. The price of smuggled salt on the market has tripled. Ordinary people can't afford salt, and there are widespread complaints."

Shen Qiongju put down her pen. She rubbed her throbbing temples.

After the fall of Prince Shou, the economic lifeline of Jiangnan should have been taken over by the Pei family. However, Jiangnan was a lucrative region with too many local strongmen. Although Qian Wanjin was dead, his powerful salt and grain merchants had deep roots. On the surface, they submitted to the Pei family, but behind the scenes, they were plotting together.

They wanted to give the newly arrived wife of the prime minister a hard time.

"Who's leading this?"

"The Wu family of Yangzhou. The head of the family is named Wu Dehai. After Qian Wanjin's death, he has become the new leader of the Jiangnan business community." Du Hengniang handed over a piece of intelligence. "This old fox is very cunning. His grain shops are all operating normally, but he secretly manipulates the black market, reselling grain at high prices. He is also the one who facilitated the salt permit matter behind the scenes."

Shen Qiongju sneered.

She was all too familiar with the ways of the business world. In her previous life in Liangzhou Prefecture, she had helped her father manage a tavern and had seen all sorts of people from all walks of life.

This drama of hoarding and speculation to force the government to make concessions is just a bigger stage.

"Pass on my message." Shen Qiongju stood up, straightening her brocade dress. "Tomorrow at noon, I will host a banquet at Wangyue Tower. I will invite the heads of the thirty-six merchant guilds in Jiangnan to have tea."

Du Hengniang's eyes lit up: "Are you going to make a move?"

"Since they want to play, I'll play a big game with them." Shen Qiongju walked to the window and looked at the rain outside. "Pei Zhihui uses power to kill people in the capital, and I'll use money to kill people in Jiangnan."

Wangyuelou is the largest restaurant in Suzhou Prefecture, built by the water with a superb view.

It was 1:15 PM. The private room, number 10, was on the second floor.

Around a huge round table made of rosewood, sat many prominent figures from the Jiangnan business community. Dressed in fine silks and satins, they held walnuts or jade in their hands, appearing outwardly amicable, but secretly exchanging knowing glances.