The Ming Dynasty: Starting with the Carpenter Prince!

The cabinet office was brightly lit.

Fang Congzhe is writing a note.

He dipped the brush in ink, wrote two lines on the paper, frowned slightly, crumpled the paper into a ball, and threw it into the wastebasket.

He laid out a new sheet, wrote three words, and then stopped.

As the Grand Secretary for seven years, I never hesitated before writing, but today I've given it some thought.

He was thinking about Sun Chengzong.

He picked up the teacup and put it down again, but didn't drink it even though it had gone cold.

Sun Chengzong came to the duty room to ask that question two days ago, but the ripples from that stone still haven't subsided.

The Crown Prince has someone teaching military affairs in Liaodong, and this person is most likely Sun Chengzong. You can't find a second one even if you search through the entire roster of the Eastern Palace.

But this person is someone you can't touch.

Zuo Shuzi, a member of the Hanlin Academy, was incorruptible and did not take bribes. He sat on the sidelines for sixteen or seventeen years, yet remained clean and honest.

If we act rashly against him, those censors will be looking for a target to attack.

Then let's leave it alone and use it.

Fang Congzhe laid out the paper again, this time with confidence, and finished in one go.

"Send this to the Ministry of Rites and ask Grand Secretary Han to forward it to His Majesty. Tell him that the discussions on Liaodong affairs are becoming increasingly frequent during the Imperial Lectures, and I believe it would be appropriate to invite a lecturer familiar with border matters to give a special lecture on the situation in Liaodong. I recommend Sun Chengzong, the Left Vice Minister of the Left of the Imperial Household Department."

The clerk took the note. "Your Excellency, is this an urgent or routine dispatch?"

"It's a routine item, no rush."

The process was routine and left no trace. The chief minister was merely arranging official business as usual, and no one could discern any hidden meaning.

The clerk bowed and withdrew.

That's great news! The Grand Secretary personally recommends someone; that's a rare opportunity.

Sun Chengzong stood on the lecture platform to give a special lecture. Every word he said was recorded. Fang Congzhe knew exactly how much of what he said was public data and how much he said in private to the Crown Prince.

If what he says is consistent with the Crown Prince's previous "foolish questions," then it's confirmed.

This person is too honest; once things are out in the open, nothing can be hidden.

Fang Congzhe picked the wad of waste paper out of the basket, lit it with a tinderbox, and the ashes fell into the copper basin, rolled around a couple of times, and then dispersed.

A man who has been mixing mud for seven years never leaves fingerprints when he writes, and he even sweeps away the ashes when he burns paper.

This airtight skill was unmatched by anyone in the court.

…………

On the morning of the same day, in the warm pavilion.

Before Fang Congzhe's note even left the cabinet, Zhu Youxiao was already chatting with Emperor Taichang.

"Father, I have been studying outside the palace for some time now. In the lectures, they talk about Liaodong and the Grand Canal, but all I hear are words on paper. I want to go out and see for myself."

Emperor Taichang was drinking porridge when he paused for a moment.

"Leaving the palace?"

"Just take a walk around the area near the capital, not far, and bring Wang An with you."

Zhu Youxiao scratched his head, looking rather simple-minded.

"The price of grain was discussed at the imperial lecture. Your subject does not know how much a peck of rice is worth on the street. I have no idea."

Emperor Taichang looked at him for a long while, then his tone suddenly softened, carrying a hint of indescribable emotion.

"Very well. When I was the Crown Prince, I hardly ever left the Donghua Gate. At your age, it's time for you to go out and broaden your horizons. Don't go too far; have Wang An accompany you."

"Thank you, Father Emperor."

They got the right to leave the palace without any trouble.

Emperor Taichang himself was imprisoned for nineteen years, and probably didn't want his son to be locked in a cage as well.

When he said, "I have barely even left the Donghua Gate a few times," his tone was very indifferent, as if he were talking about someone else's business.

But Zhu Youxiao understood; it wasn't indifference, it was acceptance.

…………

The day I left the palace, the sky was overcast, but it didn't rain; it was stuffy.

Zhu Youxiao changed into coarse cloth clothes and sat in an inconspicuous sedan chair, with the curtain half-drawn.

Wang An followed beside him, Liu Shun walked in front, and four guards in plain clothes followed behind.

Once you exit the Donghua Gate and pass through the Imperial City, the streetscape suddenly changes.

Inside the palace, it was so quiet that even breathing was regulated, while outside, there was an overwhelming cacophony of noise—the sounds of vendors hawking their wares, cartwheels, and babies crying all mixed together.

The street was narrow, with shops crammed together on both sides, their cloth banners hanging in a row.

Business was mostly slow, and the shop assistants leaned against the door frame, dozing off listlessly.

There were seven or eight people queuing outside the pawnshop. An old man was standing at the end of the line, holding a copper basin that was polished to a shine. It was probably the only valuable thing he had left in his family.

"How much is a sesame seed cake?"

"Your Highness, it's two coins. Last year it was one coin."

Wang An lowered his voice.

"Rice prices have gone up, flour prices have gone up, but people's wallets haven't."

The test book is full of numbers, and the streets are full of days; we're completely unrelated.

He spent half a month in the palace flipping through examination papers, thinking he had a thorough understanding of the affairs of the world. But when he came out, he realized that what he had learned from books was ultimately superficial and far from sufficient.

…………

After passing the Dongdan Archway, a different group of people appeared on the street.

The silk shops are gone, but there are more stalls selling secondhand clothes, and more people are squatting against the walls.

Some were chewing dry biscuits, while others squatted there without chewing anything, their eyes glazed over.

Zhu Youxiao had seen the term "refugees" in previous memorials and thought it referred to people who moved from one county to another.

It turns out that it wasn't about going anywhere, but about squatting down wherever you wanted.

"Daiban, what do these people usually eat?"

"Some do odd jobs, some pull carts at the city gate, earning a living one meal at a time," Wang An paused for a moment, "and some don't earn anything at all."

"What if you can't earn it?"

"Go have a bowl when the soup kitchen is open, and when it's not open..." Wang An didn't finish his sentence.

Zhu Youxiao did not press the matter further.

The sedan chair traveled for another fifteen minutes, then turned into a narrow alley, only to be blocked off.

"There's a long queue at the grain store ahead, taking up half the road," Liu Shun said, turning around.

Zhu Youxiao lifted the curtain to look over.

The grain shop was small, with a dark and gloomy facade. A row of twenty or thirty people squatted along the wall in front of the shop, their clothes tattered and patched.

In the middle of the line was an old man with a hunched back, holding a four- or five-year-old child in his arms. The child's face was dirty, but his eyes were bright and darting around.

The grain shop clerk glared at them and shooed them away, saying, "If you don't have money, don't bother coming in!"

The people in front squatted on the ground without moving, and hugged the bags to their chests.

A woman with a baby strapped to her back squatted at the end of the line, clutching a few copper coins in her hand.

His fingers were as rough as tree bark, and black dirt was embedded in his fingernails.

He carefully turned the copper coins over and over in his palm, counting them again and again, probably afraid of making a mistake, and then started over.

The doll moved slightly on her back, and she quickly patted it, humming twice, her eyes never leaving the money in her hand.

The tune she hummed was off-key; she probably hadn't sung properly in a long time.

The soles of his shoes were worn through, the cuffs were torn, and he carried a cloth bag in his arms, afraid to let go.

One by one, they passed by him, each bearing the six characters from the petition: "Zhili drought, refugees."

Wang An leaned closer and said, "Your Highness, most of these people are from outside. This year, several counties in Zhili Province had no harvest, so many of them have gone to the capital."

How many people?

"The report states 300 households, but the actual number is probably more than double."

"Is the government not going to do anything?"

"Yes, Shuntian Prefecture has set up several porridge distribution points, but there are too many people and not enough porridge," Wang An said in a low voice. "In good years, we can manage, but after two years of drought, the official granaries are empty."

Zhu Youxiao did not ask any further questions.

The report stated, "Zhili is suffering from drought, and there are 300 households of refugees."

He paused for a moment while flipping through the notebook, said to Emperor Taichang, "I don't know where I am now," and then turned the page.

Where have we gotten?

We've arrived here.

Squatting at the entrance of the grain shop, counting copper coins, the soles of his shoes were worn through, and his heels were sticking out on the cold ground.

Zhu Youxiao's throat tightened, and his stomach felt like it was blocked by something, so blocked that he couldn't swallow or vomit it up.

A fifteen-year-old's body is more honest than a thirty-year-old's soul; the body reacts before the mind.

There were more than a dozen people waiting behind her, some even worse off than her, without a single copper coin. They were just squatting there staring blankly at the door of the grain shop, as if they could somehow get a bowl of rice just by squatting there.

"Let's go."

The hand that was lowering the curtain clenched into a fist, the knuckles turning white.

…………

On the way back to the palace, Wang An spoke after the sedan chair had traveled for a while.

Wang An followed beside the sedan chair and secretly glanced at the Crown Prince, probably noticing that his expression was off.

"Is this your first time leaving the palace, Your Highness? Did you find something that made you uncomfortable?"

"I'm not uncomfortable at all. It's just that the words on the test paper don't match the people on the street."

"Your Highness is right. When I was in the Eastern Palace with the late Emperor, he said something similar. He said that the numbers on the registers don't make sounds, but people do."

Zhu Youxiao did not respond.

His father had been trapped in the Eastern Palace for nineteen years, reading through the examination papers for nineteen years. He knew more than anyone else, yet he was helpless.

Now my son is out and has seen it.

The woman at the entrance of the grain shop was still flipping through copper coins in front of him.

She didn't know what it meant for the Liaodong military funds to be lost, what it meant for the Ministry of Revenue to allocate silver, or what the 670,000 taels of silver intercepted at each level along the more than 1,000-mile journey from the capital to Liaoyang had to do with the copper coins in her hand.

All she knew was that rice prices had gone up again, and she didn't have enough copper coins.

The sedan chair entered the Donghua Gate, and Zhu Youxiao alighted from it, stepping onto the spotless gold bricks of the passageway.

There was mud, vegetable leaves, and saliva on the ground in front of the grain store.

The two worlds are separated by a palace wall.

Upon returning to the Eastern Palace, Zhu Youxiao did not rest. He washed his face and took out the stack of Liaodong petitions from the table and rearranged them.

When Xiong Tingbi turned to the page on the troop quota in his report, the list showed 41,000, but there were actually 23,000.

The cotton-padded clothing inventory was turned to the line "Seventeen people froze to death".

The summary of troop strength from various garrisons transferred by the Ministry of War turned to the page on Shenyang. The list showed 30,000 troops, but the actual number was less than 15,000.

Yesterday, when I was flipping through these workbooks, I thought they were numbers; today, when I flip through them again, I think they are people.

The investigation into the Liaodong military expenditure was suppressed by Fang Congzhe; the reduced access only allowed viewing, not action, and the line involving Sun Chengzong remained untouched.

Three ropes were binding his hands, and he couldn't untie any of them.

But after leaving the palace today, he no longer wanted to undo the deed; he wanted to drag himself away.

What's wrong with being tied up with three ropes? If we don't pull, the line at the grain shop will only get longer and longer, and the number of hands counting copper coins will only increase.

The matter of checking the Liaodong military pay used to be something that "should be done," but after walking past the grain shop, it became something that "must be done."

"What should be done" can wait for the right opportunity, but "what must be done" cannot wait.

The woman's copper coins couldn't wait, nor could the seventeen soldiers who froze to death.

Fang Congzhe could control the exam questions, but he couldn't control the lives of the people involved.

The moment this thought popped into Zhu Youxiao's head, he was surprised. This was the first time in all the days since he had transmigrated that he was so certain.

…………

Zhu Youxiao was still flipping through the exam paper when Wang An arrived again.

"Your Highness, there is something I need to discuss. Grand Secretary Fang submitted a note to the Ministry of Rites today, suggesting that a special lecture on the situation in Liaodong be arranged at the Imperial Lectures, and that the recommended lecturer is Vice Minister Sun."

Zhu Youxiao didn't put down the test book in his hand, but raised his eyes slightly.

Fang Congzhe recommended Sun Chengzong to lecture on Liaodong.

Good thing? When has a prime minister in seven years ever done anything like giving away favors for nothing?

He closed the test booklet and tapped his finger on the table.

Two days ago, Fang Congzhe learned from Sun Chengzong that the Crown Prince was very knowledgeable about military affairs in Liaodong. He took the first step by going to Emperor Taichang to suppress the investigation into the Liaodong military expenditure.

Now we move on to the second step.

Sun Chengzong was made to stand on the lecture platform and speak about Liaodong. Everything he said was recorded.

Fang Congzhe sat below listening, comparing the content of the lecture with the Crown Prince's previous "foolish questions" one by one. If they matched, it would be irrefutable evidence.

On the surface, they are being given important positions, but underneath they are setting traps. The one hosting the banquet is a smiling Buddha, while the guests are completely unaware that their true intentions have been revealed.

What a clever scheme to use someone else to do the dirty work.

Has His Majesty approved it?

"Not yet, the draft will be submitted tomorrow."

Wang An hesitated for a moment.

"Your Highness, should we speak to His Majesty and ask them to stop it?"

"I won't stop you."

Wang An was taken aback.

"Grand Secretary Fang recommends that Vice Minister Sun speak about Liaodong. It's a perfectly legitimate and good thing. Why stop him? Stopping him would only make me look guilty."

Wang An hesitated for a moment.

"Your Highness, if this old servant may offer a word, Grand Secretary Fang usually doesn't interfere much in the affairs of the Imperial Lectures, but this time he has suddenly intervened, and this old servant has a feeling that..."

"What do you think?"

"I can't quite put my finger on it. I just feel like something's not right."

Zhu Youxiao glanced at Wang An.

This old eunuch had served Emperor Taichang for twenty-six years and had a keen sense of smell, but he dared not think too deeply about it.

"Daban's intuition is correct; Grand Secretary Fang's move is indeed well-thought-out. But it's alright, I know what I'm doing."

"Your Highness is wise."

"Alright, stop flattering me. Go and rest."

Wang An responded and left.

Don't stop him, let him do it.

What was Fang Congzhe fishing for?

The target fish are those with "uniform diameter".

The fact that what Sun Chengzong said at the lecture matched the questions the Crown Prince had asked him before is irrefutable evidence.

Conversely, if the Crown Prince doesn't say a word during the lectures, doesn't ask questions, doesn't interrupt, and just behaves like a block of wood, what can Fang Congzhe say in response?

Sun Chengzong cited publicly available data, but the Crown Prince didn't ask any questions. The two sets of data didn't match up, and Fang Congzhe had no cards to play.

Let him fish; he'll catch nothing.

Zhu Youxiao leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh.

In the days following the Hunhe ferry crossing, he was constantly being beaten down by Fang Congzhe, who reduced his authority, leaked his data, and set traps, leaving him helpless and unable to advance or retreat.

Today I finally found a crack; my neck, which had been tense for days, relaxed a little.

The prince made a mistake at Hunhe Ferry, and Fang Congzhe seized the opportunity, using two consecutive moves to completely suppress him.

This time, the Crown Prince didn't reach out; let's see what Fang Congzhe pressed.

However, this only allowed them to avoid defeat.

Maintaining a draw is not the same as winning.

He closed his eyes and imagined the scene of the Buddhist lecture.

Sun Chengzong stood on the podium and spoke eloquently, his finger tracing from Shanhaiguan to Liaoyang, reciting each number with great enthusiasm.

Fang Congzhe sat in the first row, his expression unchanged, mentally comparing each item one by one.

The Crown Prince sat on the left side of the imperial desk, sitting upright and taking notes with his head down. He did not speak, ask questions, or pursue any further inquiries from beginning to end, and he did not even raise an eyebrow.

Fang Congzhe cast his fishing rod, but the water was calm and no fish took the bait.

Well, this is the first time in seven years that the premier has missed his target.

The trouble is yet to come.

Sun Chengzong was unaware that this was a setup.

All he knew was that the Grand Secretary had arranged for him to speak about Liaodong, which he was eagerly anticipating. After more than a decade of no one listening to him, someone was finally going to give him a proper lecture.

He will speak without reservation, saying what should be said and what shouldn't be said, because that's just the kind of person he is.

The Crown Prince could not inform him in advance.

After crossing the Hunhe River, the Crown Prince was unsure which side Sun Chengzong was on.

If Sun Chengzong were to go and notify Fang Congzhe, and then turn around and "confirm" with him, there would be no chance of turning the tables.

Without prior notice, Sun Chengzong was completely unprepared on stage.

Sending a notification is tantamount to betting everything on someone whose loyalty is not yet confirmed.

The lecture is approaching.

Fang Congzhe had set up the net on the other side, waiting for the fish to swim over on their own.

The prince only has one card to play: shut up.

Whether it's enough or not, we'll see.

The Liaodong memorial book was still lying open on the table, and the cotton-padded coat inventory was turned to the page with "seventeen people frozen to death".

The woman at the entrance of the grain shop was unaware that a prince had passed by her that day.

The prince did not know the woman's name.

But he remembered her hands, and the copper coins turning over and over in her palm.