The Ming Dynasty: Starting with the Carpenter Prince!

The roster passed without any major incident.

Emperor Taichang flipped through the scroll, his fingertips hovering over each of the six names, without lingering on any one of them.

"Are they all just a bunch of poor, pedantic scholars?"

"There is still one math student, plus two tenants who have a basic understanding of literature."

"Can tenants also copy your homework for you?"

"Knowing how to read is enough. What I have learned is nothing more than some basic elementary education. There is absolutely no profound or complicated knowledge involved."

Emperor Taichang grunted in agreement, casually setting the list aside without issuing a vermilion approval or rejection; leaving it there was tantamount to granting permission.

…………

On the day the training institute opened, six students stood respectfully in an empty room in the side hall of the East Palace.

The room was temporarily vacated, and the tables, chairs, and stools were all old items gathered from elsewhere. There was still some dust on the blue brick floor that had not been swept away. Zhu Youxiao sat down at the head of the table, still playing with a piece of broken wood in his hand, with the carving knife lying idle to the side.

"The training institute is not like an academy, and it doesn't have so many formalities. You are here to do only one job: calculate the accounts of the court for me and my fifth brother. I will report the numbers, and you will copy them down. After you finish copying, you will check the accounts and reconcile them. Any discrepancies will be circled in vermilion."

The six men found their seats as instructed. The arithmetic student was the first to settle down, placing his abacus on the table and fiddling with it for a couple of minutes as a warm-up. The two scholars spread out their paper and inkstones and sat up straight. The clerk was the most efficient, laying out the paper and grinding the ink in one go.

The two tenant farmers sat quietly at the very back.

The older man had a small piece missing from his right ear. His wrist was extremely steady when he held the pen and paper. Zhu Youxiao glanced at his pen-holding posture out of the corner of his eye and saw that he was holding the pen at the bottom with his index finger pressing down hard on the pen barrel.

Scholars and literati usually hold their pens in the middle, but this man holds them in the bottom third.

This is how military orders are clenched in an emergency.

Zhu Youxiao remained calm and composed, steadily shaving off a piece of wood.

…………

Zhu Youjian arrived the next day.

As soon as he stepped across the threshold, he caught sight of six people huddled together at a table calculating accounts. His eyes immediately lit up like stars. He dragged a small stool and squeezed into the crowd. Zhu Youxiao did not stop him but took out a piece of paper from his sleeve and pushed it in front of him.

A test question was neatly written on the paper.

"From the capital to Liaoyang, the land route for transporting one shi of millet is more than 1,500 li long, with 47 post stations along the way. Each time a transshipment is required, the cost of labor, fodder, and other expenses along the way must be calculated. The total transportation cost must be calculated and compared with the market price of millet."

The question was followed by a long list of numbers, every word of which was a real number, all of which Zhu Youxiao had copied out one by one from the Ministry of Revenue's documents.

Zhu Youjian was writing furiously at his desk, muttering to himself.

The student peeked at the problem and clicked his tongue: "Your Highness, the losses along the way in this problem are calculated cumulatively segment by segment, and must not be multiplied all at once."

Zhu Youjian ignored it and pondered for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea before finally putting down his pen.

Before he could even speak, a deep voice suddenly rang out from the corner.

"Nine mace and seven fen."

Everyone turned around to look.

The speaker was the tenant farmer with a notch in his right ear. The paper in front of him was covered with numbers, and his pen was still on the last line, the ink not yet dry.

The student was taken aback, lowered his eyes to look at his abacus, and then dialed the thirty-second post station.

Zhu Youjian stared at the "tenant" for a long time, speechless. His own calculation was indeed nine qian and seven fen, but he had spent the time it takes to drink a cup of tea while this man was more than twice as fast.

The room was deathly silent.

Zhu Youxiao paused quietly in his carving knife.

It's almost here, far too fast. The cost of calculating each of the forty-seven post stations would take a poor scholar half a day, and even a math student specializing in this subject could only manage to calculate two-thirds of it. Yet this mere "literate tenant farmer" has come out on top. If Mr. Zhang were sitting here today, this scene alone would be enough for him to send a secret letter back to the cabinet.

The tenant seemed to realize that he had been too outspoken, and suddenly lowered his head and fell silent, raising his hand to cover the manuscript paper on the table upside down.

However, it was too late; the amount had already been determined.

Zhu Youxiao slowly put down his carving knife and said calmly, "Being quick in calculation is certainly an advantage, but in the future, you must not speak out and compete. Let the second prince take the lead."

His tone was as flat as water, as casual as instructing someone to close the window when the wind blows.

The tenant responded softly, "I understand."

Zhu Youjian then seemed to wake from a dream, slapping the paper in front of him and exclaiming, "Brother! I've calculated it too! It's exactly nine qian and seven fen! But this number doesn't match, does it?"

"What's wrong?"

"The price of millet is only three and a half qian per shi, yet the expense of transporting one shi of grain is equivalent to buying three shi of grain and fodder! Isn't this a deficit going to Grandma's house?"

"Your calculations are correct."

The student quickly finished moving the last few beads, snapping them down to the correct number. He leaned closer to check Zhu Youjian's manuscript, and the result was exactly the same.

The room fell silent again. The two scholars looked at each other, their faces showing a bewildered expression that was both absurd and undeniably true. The clerk, who was copying the text, stared intently at the ink marks on his desk, his lips pressed tightly together.

Zhu Youjian was still unwilling to give up, and pointed to the question, asking, "Brother, there is clearly a line of small print at the bottom, 'If shipped by sea, the cost from Tianjin to Lushun is only 30% of that of land transport.' If that's the case, why not take the sea route?"

Zhu Youxiao picked up the carving knife and steadily shaved off a speck of wood from the broken piece of wood: "This is a very good question. Let's put it aside for now and calculate it in detail next time."

The younger brother hesitated, wanting to get to the bottom of things, but Zhu Youxiao stopped him with a glare.

Behind this maritime transport lay a complex web of vested interests in the Grand Canal and the factionalism and infighting within the imperial court regarding the maritime ban. In addition, there were hundreds of government offices along the route that relied on land transport for their own gain. A mere nine-year-old child could not possibly comprehend all of this, so it was enough to plant the seed of doubt in his mind for now.

…………

In the afternoon, Mr. Ke strolled over.

Holding a plate of delicate jujube paste pastries in her palm, she stepped through the door with a radiant smile, first bowing to Zhu Youxiao before placing the porcelain plate on the table.

"Your Highness hasn't stepped out of the house all afternoon. I wonder if you've been missing something. Enjoy it while it's hot."

"Thank you for your trouble, Grandma." Zhu Youxiao picked up a piece and put it in his mouth.

However, Madam Ke did not leave immediately. Her eyes darted around as she glanced around the room, her gaze sweeping over the faces of the six students one by one.

Upon examining the two scholars, each paused for a moment.

The students did not linger.

The clerk who copied the text glanced over it.

The two tenant farmers each paused for a moment.

As for the man with the notch in his right ear, he clearly hesitated for a moment longer.

Zhu Youxiao chewed the jujube paste pastry slowly, but out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Madam Ke had precisely measured the heat of the pastry.

"The companions chosen by Your Highness all seem to be honest and upright people," Madam Ke said with a gentle smile.

"That's right, they're all from poor, humble backgrounds, and all they need is a decent meal."

Mrs. Ke then gently reminded him, "Be sure to eat dinner on time," before turning and stepping out the door.

The soft footsteps faded away as they walked along the veranda.

Zhu Youxiao swallowed the pastry in his mouth, but did not reach for a second one.

What secrets did Madam Ke uncover by deliberately lingering on the "tenant" for half a breath? Although she didn't witness the "tenant's" quick and sharp answer, she clearly saw the gaping wound on his right ear. Whether it was from a knife or axe or a stray arrow, her sharp eyes, honed in the quagmire of the deep palace for fifteen years, would not have been mistaken.

For now, we should just wait and see what she intends to do after returning to the palace.

…………

When Madam Ke reached the base of the flower wall in the backyard of the East Palace, she slowed her pace.

At the base of the flower wall, a young servant boy, whom no one recognized, was crouching down, pretending to sweep fallen leaves with a broom. However, the bamboo broom leaned lazily against the wall, not picking up a speck of dust. This was clearly not someone on duty sweeping; he was obviously waiting for someone here.

Without pausing, in the instant their figures intersected, Madam Ke casually slipped a neatly folded strip of paper from her water sleeve and tossed it onto the stone edge of the flower wall.

As the young servant swept his bamboo broom across the stone edge at a leisurely pace, the strip of paper on the edge vanished without a trace.

The two never made eye contact for even a moment.

…………

Only four characters remained on the paper as a vermilion annotation.

All six were cold.

The young eunuch clutched the note tightly, silently slipping out of the palace through the side gate, disappearing into a narrow alley, passing through two cramped lanes, and finally stopping in front of a black lacquered wooden door without a plaque.

The door creaked open a crack, and he slipped inside like an eel.

In the courtyard, a middle-aged man, nearing fifty, was chopping firewood with an axe. It was none other than Li Jinzhong, that old dog. Although he now worked at the Imperial Pharmacy, he still had to chop the firewood himself, as he didn't have the money to hire someone to do it for him.

The young eunuch respectfully handed over the note, which Li Jinzhong took. However, his hands were busy, so he simply bit the corner of the paper with his teeth and managed to open it and peek at it.

"Six penniless bastards." He casually stuffed the note into the gap in the woodpile near his mouth, picked up the axe again, and chopped it down fiercely. The wood split in two with a crash, and the note was also shredded into pieces. "Report back to the master that we know what we're doing and they won't amount to anything."

The young eunuch nodded repeatedly and turned to leave.

"Wait a minute." Li Jinzhong slammed his heavy axe onto the ground, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Among those six heads, were there any soldiers?"

The junior eunuch was taken aback: "It wasn't explicitly stated on the note."

"If you haven't said anything, then let's go back."

The young eunuch bowed and left.

Li Jinzhong swung his axe twice more, then used the sole of his boot to kick all the scraps of paper deep into the woodpile.

His question just now was by no means unfounded. Ke Shi's annotation "all poor" means that they are all poor people. However, there is a world of difference between poor people. Poor scholars can at most play with their pens, but only the desperate soldiers are the real Yama who dare to risk their lives.

Since Mr. Ke did not mention it, he must have failed to fathom its depth, or perhaps he saw through it but felt it was insignificant.

It's not a big deal. He has his own vital business to manage at the Imperial Pharmacy, and it's not his place to meddle in the training institute that the young master of the Eastern Palace is setting up.

…………

As dusk settled, the Eastern Palace...

Zhu Youxiao detained his fifth brother in the house.

"Now that you've figured out the true nature of the grain supply lines, I'll assign you another practical task."

"What kind of assignment?" Zhu Youjian's eyes lit up.

Zhu Youxiao pulled a thick account book from a hidden drawer and threw it on the table.

"The procurement records for the Crown Prince's Palace, including charcoal, firewood, rice, oil, vegetables, fruits, cloth, paper, and ink, are all meticulously documented, detailing the items and expenses that bring in a fortune every day. Take these back and examine them carefully to see if there are any suspicious or leaky details."

Zhu Youjian took the book with both hands, flipped through a couple of pages, and his two young eyebrows furrowed: "Brother, I don't recognize many of the items on this book."

"If you encounter any unfamiliar words, just ask your classmates at the training institute. You just calculated the grain supply and know that a shi of millet is only three and a half qian. So how much does the rice purchased by the inner court cost? Open the account book and compare them, and you will immediately see the truth. If the price is too high, there must be something dirty inside."

Zhu Youjian clutched the account book tightly to his chest, tilted his head and pondered for a moment before pressing for more information.

"What if they actually find out who's been ripped off?"

"I hereby instruct my elder brother that he must not question the steward without authorization, and that no word of this should be leaked."

"Why can't we go and demand an explanation in person?"

"Because you are only nine years old this year." Zhu Youxiao's lips curled into a faint smile. "If a nine-year-old prince tries to manipulate the chief eunuch in charge of purchasing, those servants will certainly not dare to disobey their master to his face, but they will turn around and wail in front of Granny Ke. Once Granny Ke gets involved, this matter will become the fault of His Highness for mistreating and making things difficult for the servants. At that time, you should think about how to handle the situation when Granny Ke is in tears."

Zhu Youjian pursed his lips tightly.

"First, investigate secretly. Once the truth comes out, come find me. Remember this: meticulously record every single detail between the account book and the market price, how much of the amount was misrepresented, and which shady hand was involved. Ignore all other minor details."

"That saves me the trouble!"

Zhu Youjian grabbed the account books and disappeared in a flash.

…………

same day.

Thirty li outside the Puhe stronghold in Liaodong.

The withered grass was waist-high, and the north wind, carrying white frost, blew wildly like knives.

A man lay motionless in the weeds like a corpse, like a cold, stubborn stone. His head was shaved into a rat's tail, his forehead gleaming with a bluish light, and he was wrapped in a sheepskin coat, the color of which was hidden in the withered grass. From a distance, he looked no different from a mound of earth.

He was taking stock of everyday life.

Sparse smoke rose from the dilapidated camp at the Puhe stronghold, wisps of smoke drifting upwards from the kitchen roof. He had calculated everything in great detail: how many stoves were lit, how many sentries were stationed, the location of the stables, and the route the torches would follow when patrolling the camp at night.

Having finished his calculations, he suddenly turned around, curled up like a shrimp, and slithered through the deep withered grass, like a venomous snake, leaving no trace of his presence.

The heavily fortified camp, supposedly manned by 3,000 soldiers, had barely a thousand wisps of smoke rising from its chimneys. A secluded sentry post stood alone on the southern slope, while the eastern side resembled an undefended ghost town.

…………

Thirty miles away at the Puhe outpost, the kitchen was cooking.

The thin porridge, with its clear broth and little water, can be stirred so thoroughly with a large spoon that you can see your reflection in the bottom of the pot.

An old soldier with a pale face huddled against the wall, waiting for his meal. His withered hands gripped a pair of bamboo chopsticks tightly, the ends of which were already worn and curled from being chewed by his starving teeth.

He had no idea that thirty miles away in the wilderness, two vicious wolves were counting their fates.

In his muddled mind, only one desperate thought swirled: today's rice porridge was even more bland than yesterday's.