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

In the early autumn of the eleventh year of the Zhengtong reign, the summer heat in the capital gradually dissipated.

The sky was high and the clouds were light, and a few lines of wild geese flew over the magnificent eaves of the Forbidden City.

Inside the chief minister's office next to the Jianji Hall, several pots of newly tribute autumn chrysanthemums were in full bloom.

The delicate fragrance of flowers dispelled the gloom brought by the mountain of case files on the desk.

Gu Yannian, dressed in a crimson brocade robe, sat upright behind a large sandalwood table.

He picked up the purple brush from the brush holder, dipped it in the thick ink from the Duan inkstone, and steadily wrote his name on the signature book.

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

"Add to intelligence."

He put down the purple-tipped brush, picked up the freshly brewed Junshan Silver Needle tea beside him, and gently parted the floating leaves on the water's surface.

"By now, His Majesty should have some understanding of the old accounts of the military settlements along the nine borders. I just wonder how this meticulous young emperor plans to pry open the mouths of those fierce generals."

Gu Yannian muttered to himself, a playful smile flashing in his deep eyes.

At this moment, the atmosphere inside the Wenhua Hall was as tense as a fully drawn bowstring, making it hard to breathe.

The nineteen-year-old Emperor Zhengtong, Zhu Qizhen, dressed in a bright yellow robe, stood before a huge map of the nine border regions with a furrowed brow.

He held a yellowed fish-scale map from the Hongwu era in his hand, while more than a dozen military settlement ledgers newly presented by the Ministry of War were scattered at his feet.

"Pat! Pat!"

Inside the hall, Wang Zhen, the Grand Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, had a bitter face.

He was sweating profusely as he calculated numbers on a huge abacus.

"Your Majesty..."

Wang Zhen swallowed hard, his voice trembling.

"This servant has checked. According to the old records of the Hongwu and Yongle reigns, the total amount of military farmland opened up in the nine important border towns such as Xuanfu, Datong, and Yansui was more than 13 million mu."

"According to regulations, the border troops are divided into three parts for defending cities and seven parts for farming. The grain and fodder produced are sufficient to support the annual needs of the 700,000-strong army in the nine border regions, with a surplus."

Wang Zhen glanced cautiously at Zhu Qizhen's expression, and stammered on:

"But...but the reports submitted by the Ministry of War and the Ministry of Revenue this year say that, after being eroded by wind and sand and plundered by the Tatars, only..."

"Less than three million mu remain. The border troops are running out of food and supplies, and have repeatedly requested silver from the Taicang granary for relief..."

"Absurd! Utterly shameless!"

Zhu Qizhen slammed the old picture album in his hand onto the imperial desk, his eyes bloodshot.

"Thirteen million mu of fertile land, ten million mu vanished into thin air?! Does he think this is magic? Wind and sand erosion?"

"And where did the private grain reported annually by the garrison commanders of Datong and Xuanfu, used to exchange for salt permits in Taicang, come from?!"

Zhu Qizhen paced angrily back and forth in the hall, his chest heaving violently.

Over the past eight years, he has been forced into becoming a cunning and ruthless manager under Gu Yannian's clutches.

He knew all too well what kind of trickery was involved.

These are clearly the generals and deputy generals of the nine border regions, along with the local governors and prefects.

They colluded with each other to illegally divide up the fertile military farmland of the imperial court and turn it into their own private estates!

Those military households who should have been farming to support themselves became tenant farmers of the generals, and the grain they grew ended up in the generals' pockets.

Turning around, these parasites still complained to Taicang about being poor, asking the emperor to spend money to support the army!

"They suck my blood and eat my flesh! These traitors!"

Zhu Qizhen gritted his teeth, his right hand instinctively reaching for the newly replaced jade paperweight on his desk.

Wang Zhen was so frightened that he trembled all over and quickly tried to dissuade him.

"Your Majesty, please calm your anger! These generals of the nine border regions hold considerable military power and are deeply entrenched in their own factions. If we push them too far, we risk inciting a mutiny."

"This matter of inspecting the fields requires a high-ranking imperial envoy, someone of great status and capable of maintaining order, to conduct the on-site measurements in order to silence them."

Zhu Qizhen glanced at Wang Zhen with a cold look in his eyes.

Imperial envoy?

Who should we send?

The imperial censor sent by the Censorate would probably not even be able to enter the city gates of Datong, as he would be drunk by those fierce generals and have his seal stamped in a daze.

The officials sent by the Ministry of Revenue might have already colluded with the border general, falsifying accounts to deceive him.

In Zhu Qizhen's eyes, all the civil and military officials in the court were thieves ready to steal his silver at any time.

"Of noble status...able to maintain composure..."

Zhu Qizhen muttered to himself, a figure suddenly flashing through his mind.

A sudden glint of light flashed in his eyes, which were usually filled with calculation.

"Wang Zhen! Go to the Tenth Prince's residence! Convey my decree: summon the Prince of Cheng to the palace for an audience immediately!"

Prince Cheng, Zhu Qiyu, was the half-brother of Emperor Zhu Qizhen.

After the Xuande Emperor passed away, Zhu Qizhen ascended the throne, and his younger brother Zhu Qiyu was enfeoffed as the Prince of Cheng and granted the tenth princely residence.

This Prince Cheng was of a tranquil nature and had never liked to get involved in politics.

Every day in the Prince's mansion, besides tending to the flowers and plants, he would enjoy tea and discuss painting with several distinguished guests.

He lived a life of leisure, just like a carefree hermit, befitting a prince in a peaceful and prosperous era.

Inside the Ten Princes' Mansion at this time.

Fifteen-year-old Zhu Qiyu, dressed in a moon-white Hangzhou silk robe, stood before his desk.

He held a wolf-hair brush in his hand, intently copying a painting from the previous dynasty, "Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains".

Between his delicate brows, there was an air of scholarly refinement, as if he were untouched by worldly concerns.

"Your Highness's brushstrokes are increasingly reminiscent of Huang Gongwang's style. The texturing of these rocks is truly imbued with an ancient charm."

The scholar standing to the side stroked his beard and praised the scholar repeatedly.

Zhu Qiyu smiled slightly, put down his paintbrush, and picked up the fragrant tea on the table.

"Sir, you flatter me. I am merely indulging in refined pursuits out of leisure. The heavy responsibilities of the court are to be borne by my elder brother and Prime Minister Gu. I am already fortunate to be able to live a life of leisure and wealth."

Before he could finish speaking, the steward of the Prince's mansion stumbled into the study, his face ashen, and he scrambled to his knees.

"Your Highness! Someone from the palace has arrived! Eunuch Wang from the Directorate of Ceremonial Affairs has personally brought an imperial edict, requesting Your Highness to enter the palace immediately and proceed to the Wenhua Hall for an audience!"

With a clang.

Zhu Qiyu accidentally dropped the teacup, which shattered and scalding hot tea spilled all over the floor.

"The Hall of Literary Glory?!"

Zhu Qiyu's once composed face instantly lost all color.

In the eyes of the imperial family and civil and military officials of the Ming Dynasty, the Wenhua Hall was not a place for the crown prince to study or for the emperor to govern.

That was clearly a hellish palace that devoured people without spitting out their bones!

Not long ago, Zhou Lin, the Vice Minister of Works, had his head smashed by the Emperor's elder brother with a copper paperweight right there.

It is said that it took three days and three nights to wash the bloodstains off the floor tiles.

Why did my elder brother suddenly summon me to the Wenhua Hall?

Could it be that I have violated some taboo by secretly associating with sycophants, thus provoking my elder brother to take action against me?

Zhu Qiyu felt his legs go weak.

But the imperial edict was as weighty as a mountain, and he dared not delay in the slightest.

He had no choice but to change into the prince's python robe and, with a heart filled with trepidation as if facing death, board the carriage to enter the palace.