The Ming Dynasty: Starting with the Carpenter Prince!

The side hall of the East Palace, the training center.

The two scholars started arguing again.

He spoke in a low voice, but his words were sharp as knives. The dispute was still over that old case: whether mathematics, which was in the third column of the ten-day report, should be included in the main column.

One person insisted that mathematics was a lowly craftsman's profession, and putting it in the main section would disrupt the rules; the other person countered that if mathematics was not included, the truth would not be revealed, and the rules would just be a dead shell.

Chen Wenju sat at the end of the table, staring at the abacus in front of him without saying a word.

The scribe paused, his pen still.

The two retired tenant farmers had already left. Only these four people remained in the hall.

The curtain was lifted, and Zhu Youxiao stepped into the hall.

The two scholars hurriedly fell silent, stood up, and bowed.

Zhu Youxiao waved his hand, dismissing the formalities, and went straight to the table at the head of the table to sit down.

His face remained completely expressionless, and he didn't utter a single word about the argument that had just taken out. He simply took a folded piece of paper from his sleeve, smoothed it out, and placed it on the table.

"Recently, while searching through old archives of the Ministry of Revenue, I came across an account from the 30th year of the Wanli reign. I spent half a day trying to calculate it, but I couldn't figure it out."

He gently pushed the page forward.

"Gentlemen, please help me calculate this."

The older scholar respectfully accepted the folded paper with both hands. The younger scholar also stepped forward to examine it closely.

With just one glance, their expressions changed drastically.

The question is extremely brief. In the thirtieth year of the Wanli reign, a sum of silver was allocated by the Grand Canal Transport Office, through the Ministry of Revenue, the Ministry of Works, and the Court of Imperial Studs. After eighteen years of accumulated interest, plus losses from seven transport routes, the silver was also exchanged for three different measures: silver in silver, silk in silk, and rice in its original color.

Find the last digit, down to the cent.

The older scholar's lips twitched slightly as he glanced discreetly at his companion.

The young scholar held the corner of the paper tightly, unable to utter a single word for a long time.

The hall was deathly quiet.

"Brother Zhang, shall we do the calculations first?" The young scholar pushed the paper toward his companion.

"Brother Li's mathematical skills have always been superb, there's no need to be so polite." The older scholar immediately pushed the paper back.

"Brother Li's humility surpasses that of our generation."

"Brother Zhang, please go first."

A light piece of paper was passed back and forth between the two of them four times.

No one dared to put pen to paper.

Zhu Youxiao didn't urge him. He simply took out a piece of elm wood and a carving knife from his sleeve and began to carve it little by little.

So-called classical texts are ultimately nothing more than discerning principles and clarifying social norms; these accounts, if calculated correctly, offend the Ministry of Revenue, if calculated incorrectly, lead to dismissal—either way, they are hot potatoes. To refrain from writing them down is the mark of a seasoned expert.

Chen Wenju kept his eyes down.

The two had been arguing for half an hour, and he hadn't said a word; now that they were shifting blame to each other, he remained silent.

Half a breath passed.

He silently got up and walked to the two desks.

"Let's take a look under the guise of this topic."

The sound was extremely soft.

The older scholar, however, felt as if he had been granted a pardon and hurriedly handed over the paper.

Chen Wenju returned to the last table. He laid out paper, ground ink, and straightened the abacus.

The abacus beads clicked.

At first, the beads were scattered, making a few crackling sounds. Then they strung together, becoming increasingly fine and neat. The beads rolled under his fingertips, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. He would occasionally pause for a moment, pick up his pen to jot down a decimal in the corner of the paper, and then continue calculating.

In the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.

The abacus beads suddenly stopped.

Chen Wenju picked up his brush and began to write on the paper.

"Two hundred and forty-three thousand eight hundred and seventy-seven taels, two mace and five fen."

After finishing writing, I put down my pen.

The two scholars stood to one side, their faces alternating between red and white.

Zhu Youxiao then raised his eyes.

Are you confident?

"Your Highness, I have calculated it twice." Chen Wenju's voice was still not loud, but steady. "The first calculation was 243,877.2 taels; the second calculation added the last hu of rice, converted it to 5 fen, and then stopped."

"Um."

Zhu Youxiao neither praised nor commented on it.

He simply placed the carving knife on the table and left a casual remark.

"The training institute is where the accounts of the imperial court are settled. Whether the accounts are correct or not is not determined by background, but only by the numbers."

The hall was completely silent.

The two scholars exchanged a glance and then lowered their heads.

Chen Wenju lowered his head to put away the abacus, and the tip of his pen paused for a moment on the edge of the inkstone.

This is all that remains.

He originally thought that he would spend his life working his way up to become a student of the Imperial Academy, find a job as a staff member, save some money, and then go back to his hometown to build a few large brick houses.

Now, however, he sits in a side hall of the Eastern Palace of the Ming Dynasty, settling old accounts of the Ministry of Revenue for the Crown Prince.

Chen Wenju reset the abacus to zero, pushed it into the drawer, picked up his pen, dipped it in ink, lowered his eyes, and continued copying the ten-day report.

He silently tightened his cuffs.

…………

afternoon.

Before the desk in the Eastern Palace.

Liu Shun, holding a thin letter, quietly lifted the curtain and entered.

"Your Highness, an urgent message from Consort Sun from Jizhou."

Zhu Youxiao took it and opened it.

The narrow sheet of paper contained only a few words:

"Your Highness, all the prefectures and counties we passed through received assistance along the way. I need not inquire further; the journey north was smooth. Your subject, Sun Chengzong, bows respectfully."

Zhu Youxiao laid the letter out on the table and read it quietly twice.

His knuckles paused for a moment on the four characters "caring for someone along the way".

He knew those four words all too well.

Five days ago, Steward Wang from the Duke of England's mansion stood in this side hall and handed over the words, "It is already a precedent to take care of things along the way."

At the time, he assumed it was Zhang Weixian's family repaying a favor by giving him two bolts of cloth.

At this moment, however, the taste is quite different.

Sun Chengzong chose a different route to the north. The Ministry of Revenue's verification team was led by Wang Chengen, while Sun Chengzong secretly went ahead alone, and the two routes did not overlap.

On two completely unrelated roads, "taking care of each other along the way" has appeared at the same time.

This action was by no means the work of Zhang Weixian alone.

Along the way, countless relatives, nephews, protégés, and former officials were quietly making way for him.

Zhu Youxiao rested his knuckles on the edge of the table, remaining motionless for a long time.

For two hundred years, the nobility of the Ming Dynasty have always adhered to one ironclad rule: do not take sides.

The emperor's cabinet changed several times, but they remained steadfast. Whoever sat on the dragon throne, they all kowtowed and fawned upon them. In the past, during the Wanli reign, the "Succession Crisis" caused a great uproar, but the Duke of England's mansion remained completely silent from beginning to end.

To put it bluntly, these old foxes treat "not taking sides" as a get-out-of-jail-free card. No matter which dynasty changes, military power and supply lines cannot bypass them; by currying favor, they can ensure their wealth and status remain unchanged.

Not taking sides is not only an ancestral rule, but also the foundation of one's own power base.

But now, these old foxes have made their move.

The nobles did not openly recruit them; instead, each family quietly contributed their share to pave the way for the Crown Prince in secret.

Focusing on one company may not be noticeable, but when it comes to multiple companies, it signifies a shift in the overall political landscape.

Zhu Youxiao slowly exhaled, folded the letter back to its original shape, and put it into the deepest part of the hidden drawer.

He raised his hand and pressed down on the stack of documents from the investigation team on the table.

When navigating the treacherous rapids of Chenhe Bay, the phrase "take care of us along the way" must be carefully considered.

…………

into the night.

The rear hall of the East Palace.

The charcoal brazier was burning lukewarmly.

Zhu Youxiao sat alone behind his desk, flipping through the notebooks of questions. The words came into view, but they did not resonate with him.

There was a very faint sound coming from the door.

Zhu Youjian carried a bowl of porridge and entered the palace.

"Brother, Eunuch Liu said you didn't have lunch again today."

The white porcelain bowl was placed down. Millet and red dates were added to the porridge, and dried osmanthus flowers were sprinkled on top.

That's the style from the Ke family's hometown; the craftsmanship hasn't diminished at all.

Zhu Youxiao picked up the bowl and took a small sip.

"warm."

Zhu Youjian moved a low stool over and sat down opposite him.

His legs dangled in mid-air, swinging back and forth. After a few swings, he spoke.

"Brother, did you see the note in the mailbox?"

Zhu Youxiao swallowed the porridge and nodded in agreement.

Zhu Youjian shook his legs a few more times.

"That math problem from today...did you see it, bro?"

"I saw it." Zhu Youxiao's gaze remained fixed on the bowl, without looking up.

"How was Chen Wenju's calculation?"

"It's acceptable."

"Brother, do you think this person is reliable in the future?"

Zhu Youxiao glanced at his younger brother and put down his soup spoon.

"There are plenty of people who can settle accounts. But few are willing to swallow the scholar's anger on my behalf."

Zhu Youjian's lips curled slightly, but he didn't press the matter further. He placed his hands properly on his knees and sat up straight.

The only sound inside the hall was the soft rustling of people drinking porridge, one spoonful at a time, unhurriedly.

The bowl of porridge was quickly emptied.

Zhu Youxiao put down the empty bowl, and Zhu Youjian got up to clean it up.

As he reached the door and pushed it open a crack, he suddenly turned around.

"Brother, I'll write three notes from now on."

Zhu Youxiao raised his eyes.

Zhu Youjian counted on his fingers.

"I'll handle one myself. I'll show you one. And you can judge the last one."

The hall was quiet for two breaths.

Zhu Youxiao's Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

A nine-year-old child stood by the door, expressionless, speaking with utmost seriousness.

No one taught him this system. He made decisions on minor matters himself, reported them according to regulations, and handed over important matters to his superiors. This child actually figured it out little by little in the Eastern Palace on his own.

Zhu Youxiao gazed at his younger brother quietly, and after a moment, nodded slightly.

"Okay. That works."

Zhu Youjian grinned and pushed open the door to go out.

The curtain fell.

The hall fell silent once more.

Zhu Youxiao picked up the empty bowl, then put it down again. His knuckles rested on the cold edge of the table, remaining motionless for a long time.

Suddenly, a series of hurried footsteps were heard from the corridor outside.

Liu Shun stumbled in, his voice rising a fraction, sharp and piercing:

"Your Highness! Eunuch Wang has sent an urgent message...The Emperor is seriously ill!"

The oil lamp on the desk emitted a tiny spark.

"Eunuch Wang requests your presence immediately!"

"When did the illness begin?" Zhu Youxiao's voice was flat.

"Just now!" Liu Shun replied, trembling all over.

Zhu Youxiao suddenly stood up, grabbed his cloak, and strode out.

Stepping out of the palace gate, I stepped into the flying snow.

The snowfall intensified compared to the afternoon.