Da Ming: The system granted me immortality; I clock in every day.

Gu Yannian looked at the devastated young emperor without showing the slightest pity.

"Your Majesty is diligent in governing the country and auditing accounts, which is the mark of a wise ruler. It's just a pity that your vision is ultimately a bit too narrow."

Gu Yannian's tone returned to its usual gentle and calm manner.

"Governing a large country is like cooking a small fish; one must not only see the trees but also the forest."

He turned to Wang Zhen and said calmly, "Eunuch Wang, since you were the one who carried this ledger, you must have put in a lot of effort. In that case, I'll trouble you to personally count the 1.5 million shi of grain in the Henan Ever-Normal Granary."

"Not a single stone or a single bushel can be counted without error. If the count is not clear, there is no need to return to the capital."

Wang Zhen felt as if he had lost his parents, and repeatedly kowtowed to express his gratitude.

To go to Henan and count a million shi of grain would take several months in dusty granaries.

This was worse than death to him.

Gu Yannian then looked at Zhu Qizhen on the dragon throne.

"As for Your Majesty, since Your Majesty's arithmetic skills have improved to such an extent, there is no need to practice the ordinary salt tax expenditures anymore."

Gu Yannian slowly took out three thick, brick-like yellow books from his wide sleeves and handed them to the eunuch beside him.

"This is a report submitted by the Ministry of Works, outlining the budget for dredging the Yellow River dike over the next three years, a detailed list of materials to be purchased, and a roster of laborers to be conscripted. It is a complex undertaking involving more than ten prefectures and counties across three provinces, making it more than ten times more complicated than the customs tax."

"Since Your Majesty is so fond of accounting, then let's sort out these three books tonight. I want to see the exact figures approved in red before the morning court tomorrow."

Zhu Qizhen looked at the three huge ledgers piled up in front of him, emitting a pungent smell of ink, and felt a loud "buzz" in his head.

He tried his best to get rid of the abacus, but what he got in return was ten times the amount of schoolwork he had before!

"Grand Tutor... I... I can't finish calculating..."

Zhu Qizhen's voice trembled, and tears welled up in his eyes.

"If you can't finish calculating, don't leave the Wenhua Hall."

Gu Yannian ruthlessly pronounced the verdict.

The morning court session has ended.

The officials filed out, none daring to glance once at the lifeless young emperor sitting on the dragon throne.

This contest between the emperor and the powerful minister ended in the complete defeat of the young emperor before it even truly began.

Gu Yannian walked lightly along the alleyway leading out of the palace.

A gentle spring breeze caressed my face, carrying a hint of warmth.

Zhu Qizhen's counterattack, though somewhat immature, proved that his five years of planning had not been in vain.

At least he has truly mastered the skill of reading accounts.

As long as he doesn't focus on recruiting soldiers and seeking trouble beyond the Great Wall, the Ming Dynasty's resources will not be depleted.

As for the hatred in this kid's heart?

Gu Yannian didn't care at all.

We arrived at the small courtyard in Xuanwufang.

The old jujube tree has sprouted new leaves.

Gu Yannian pushed open the wooden door and walked under the eaves.

The spring water was bubbling and churning in the copper pot on the small red clay stove.

He pinched a small amount of fresh tea leaves and put them into the purple clay teapot. The aroma of the tea instantly dispelled the intrigue and backstabbing in the court.

Gu Yannian picked up his teacup and looked up at the clear blue spring sky.

I wonder if the sound of the abacus beads in the Wenhua Hall tonight will be even more mournful than usual.

Let him be; the Ming Dynasty is at peace.

The eighth year of the Zhengtong reign.

Time flows quietly within the Forbidden City, amidst the daily repetition of morning bells and evening drums.

Inside the Grand Secretary's office next to the Wenhua Hall, several pots of blooming orchids exuded a delicate fragrance.

Gu Yannian, dressed in a purplish-red brocade robe, sat upright behind a large rosewood desk.

He picked up the purple brush from the desk and steadily wrote his name on the signature book.

[Ding! Today's attendance complete. Attribute point gained +1.]

Seven years have passed since the great snowfall in the first year of the Zhengtong era.

Over these seven years, the Ming Dynasty's treasury grew richer year by year.

The soldiers of the Nine Borders changed their firearms time and time again, and the copper mines of Annam were continuously transformed into coins in the market.

All the officials in the country knew that the Grand Secretary Gu was a master strategist who had calculated all the money and grain in the country and established a prosperous era.

And the young emperor Zhu Qizhen, who once recited account books while wiping away tears under the abacus, has now grown into a handsome sixteen-year-old.

Qianqing Palace, East Warm Pavilion.

Zhu Qizhen, dressed in a bright yellow robe with a dragon design, sat upright before his desk.

The sixteen-year-old emperor was already quite tall and slender, though his face remained fair and clean.

But the childishness of yesteryear has long since faded from his brows, replaced by a deep and restrained sharpness.

What's most amazing are his hands.

The emperor, the supreme ruler of the Ming Dynasty, had thick calluses on the pads of his ten fingers and the base of his thumb.

That was something he had painstakingly worked on for the past seven years, day and night, by manipulating abacuses, digging trenches, and carrying sandbags in the wasteland of Xiyuan.

At this moment, Zhu Qizhen was rapidly flipping through an account book without a cover.

His eyes were sharp and his mind was quick.

As the complex numbers came into view, the overall picture was quickly pieced together in my mind.

"Smack."

Zhu Qizhen closed the account book, a cold, sharp smile curving his lips.

Wang Zhen, the Grand Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, who was standing to the side, saw that His Majesty had put down the account book.

He quickly brought over a bowl of warm bird's nest porridge.

Wang Zhen has also undergone a complete transformation in the past few years.

Back then, Gu Yannian sent him to Changping Granary in Henan to count 1.5 million shi of old grain. He spent half a year counting the grain in that dusty granary full of rats, until his eyes were almost blind.

Ever since then, whenever Wang Zhen hears the words "panzhang" (盘帐), his legs start to tremble uncontrollably.

But it was precisely that inhuman torture that was inflicted.

This forged an even stronger alliance between the master and servant amidst humiliation and fear.

"Your Majesty, please rest. We servants can handle the accounts for the income and expenditure of this imperial estate. There's no need for you to work day and night."

Wang Zhen lowered his voice, his face full of heartache.

Zhu Qizhen picked up the bird's nest porridge but did not drink it.

He simply held it in his hand to warm it, his eyes revealing a long-suppressed ambition.

"Wang Banban, you don't understand."

Zhu Qizhen gave a cold laugh, his voice extremely low.

"For the past seven years, I have suffered endless humiliation under that old scoundrel Gu. Did he think that with those unresolved debts and inexhaustible trenches, he could torment me into a spineless coward who only knows how to guard the national treasury?"

The young emperor gripped the account book tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning white.

"He's wrong! In these seven years, I haven't gone mad at all; on the contrary, I've mastered his skills in finance and governance to perfection!"

Zhu Qizhen's eyes shone brightly, like a young wolf that had been lying dormant for a long time and was finally baring its fangs.

"That old scoundrel taught me that supplies must precede troops, and that all power in the empire lies in the purse. He controls the Ministry of Revenue and the Imperial Granary; I cannot touch him."

"But I can start from scratch!"

Wang Zhen was deeply moved and immediately prostrated himself on the ground, listening respectfully to the emperor's grand plans.

"This ledger contains information about the wasteland and unclaimed fields that we have secretly acquired around Shuntian Prefecture over the past three years."

Zhu Qizhen pointed to the account book on the table, his eyes gleaming with cunning calculation.

"I hereby enclose this estate in the name of the Imperial Estate. It is not listed in the Ministry of Revenue's register of grain and silk, and therefore is exempt from autumn grain taxes and other duties. All grain and silk produced on this Imperial Estate shall be deposited into the Imperial Treasury."

Zhu Qizhen stood up and paced around the warm pavilion, his upright posture revealing a deep and far-sighted mind.

"That old scoundrel won't let me reward the three armies, nor will he allow me to interfere with the military power of the nine border regions. Then I'll use the profits from this imperial estate to secretly recruit refugees and train them within the estate under the guise of estate guards!"

"Give me three to five years, and I will be able to train a battle-hardened army in this vital capital region that is loyal only to me and receives only pay from the imperial treasury!"