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

Early winter of the third year of the Chenghua reign.

In that quiet little courtyard south of Suzhou city, withered yellow leaves covered the bluestone slabs.

Gu Yannian lay on the bamboo chair under the eaves, listening to the rustling sound of Uncle Fu sweeping fallen leaves in the courtyard.

On the stone table lay a gazette that had just arrived from the capital yesterday.

The first line of the official gazette was heavily outlined in vermilion ink:

Yu Qian, Minister of War and Grand Secretary of the Wenyuan Pavilion, died of illness at his private residence in the capital. He was posthumously awarded the title of Grand Tutor and the posthumous name of Zhongsu.

"In the end, we still couldn't make it through this winter."

Gu Yannian picked up the teacup, which had long since gone cold, and slowly poured the remaining tea onto the soil in front of the steps.

This can be considered a distant tribute to this upright and principled veteran official who served three dynasties.

With Yu Qian gone, the strongest lock in the Ming Dynasty court broke.

The Chenghua Emperor Zhu Jianji, who had dreamed of conquering the world since childhood, was probably laughing out loud in the Qianqing Palace at this moment.

The last mountain weighing on his head collapsed with a roar.

With mountains of silver piled up in the granary, he could finally squander it to pave the way for his imperial empire that would go down in history.

Gu Yannian closed his eyes, and a map of the northern territory of the Ming Dynasty appeared in his mind.

Zhu Jianji was eager to send troops to the desert to conquer the remnants of the Oirat tribe who were grazing in the sandstorms.

But this immortal being knew better than anyone else.

The nomadic people on the grasslands are like wild grass; they cannot be burned out by wildfire, and they will grow again with the spring breeze.

Even if we win, all we get are a few barren deserts.

The truly hungry wolf that will one day unleash a massive wave and devour the century-old foundation of the Ming Dynasty.

At this moment, they are lying in wait in the mountains and rivers of Liaodong, using the name "Jianzhou Jurchen" to secretly recruit soldiers and build up their forces.

"It would be a terrible waste to let this young emperor use the wealth accumulated by the late emperor to make noise in the desert."

Gu Yannian slowly opened his eyes.

Suddenly, a sharp and piercing light flashed in those old eyes that had been disguised as cloudy.

"I'm tired of this game. Since the new emperor doesn't like accountants, I'll try a different approach. I'll play along with this ambitious Emperor Chenghua and put on a show of a treacherous minister who brings disaster to the country."

The next morning, a young man walked out of Gu Yannian's room.

This was a young man who appeared to be in his late twenties, with a tall and straight posture like a sword and eyes as cold and sinister as a venomous snake.

Gu Yannian, no, from this moment on, he is Pei Yuan, the hereditary commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard in Southern Zhili.

This identity was one of the countless hidden pawns he had secretly placed in the Southern Garrison Command by Zhao Si in his early years.

The Pei family had only one son for three generations, his parents died early, and he was aloof and ruthless.

He was a marginal figure in the Nanjing Imperial Guard, but the cleanest and most reliable.

He walked into the courtyard, saw Uncle Fu watering the flowers, took out a thick stack of silver notes from his pocket, and placed them on the stone table.

"Uncle Fu, this courtyard and these silver notes are for you to enjoy in your old age. I'm going on a long trip, and my return date is uncertain, so don't worry about me."

Uncle Fu stared blankly at the completely unfamiliar young man in front of him, but recognized his master from the familiar voice and eyes.

His eyes reddened, and he knelt down shakily, kowtowing three times heavily.

Pei Yuan said no more and turned to open the courtyard gate.

I strode into the thin mist of early winter in Jiangnan, heading alone towards the capital.

Two months later, in the capital, at the Northern Garrison Office.

In the cold, dark red bloodstains on the torture instruments emitted a nauseating stench.

Wan Tong, the commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard, was frowning as he flipped through a case file about a wealthy merchant in the capital smuggling contraband.

This Wan Tong is the younger brother of Consort Wan, the current imperial concubine.

She got this position through nepotism.

Although he was somewhat clever, he was fundamentally a greedy, lustful, and ignorant fool.

"Commander, Pei Yuan, a centurion transferred from Southern Zhili, is requesting an audience, saying he's here to report for duty."

A captain entered to report.

"A peasant from the south?"

Wantong waved his hand impatiently.

"Let him in."

Before long, Pei Yuan, dressed in a black flying fish robe and with an embroidered spring knife at his waist, stepped steadily into the hall.

He knelt on one knee, his voice cold and hard as iron.

"This humble servant, Pei Yuan, has been summoned to the capital to pay my respects to the Commander."

Wan Tong looked Pei Yuan up and down.

Seeing that the young man was handsome but had a wicked air about him, she felt a sense of dislike from the start.

"You were doing well in Nanjing, so you spent money to pull strings and get transferred to the capital. You must have been desperate to climb the ladder."

"Let me make this clear from the start: the capital is a dangerous place. If you fail to perform your duties, I don't care who recommended you. You'll be ready to be skinned alive in the imperial prison."

Wan Tong pounded on the table, exuding official authority.

Pei Yuan stood up, not afraid at all, but with a cunning, obsequious smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

"Your teachings are indeed correct. I had heard of your illustrious reputation since I was in Nanjing."

"I have come to the capital this time seeking nothing more than to do my utmost for you, my lord."

Upon hearing these undisguised words of flattery, Wantong was first taken aback, then burst into laughter.

Officials in the capital, more or less, have to consider their reputation.

Even the Embroidered Uniform Guard liked to put on an act of loyalty and patriotism.

Such obsequiousness is truly rare.

"Good! You're smart to know what's good for you."

Wan Tong threw the smuggling case file on the table at Pei Yuan's feet.

"There's a grain merchant surnamed Shen in the east of the city who's secretly hoarding grain and driving up prices. He's also suspected of smuggling ironware to the border regions. I sent people to investigate for half a month, but this old fox has hidden his account books very well and refuses to confess no matter what."

"This task is entrusted to you. Within three days, I require to see his confession, his signature, and the list of those whose property will be confiscated!"

"Your humble servant obeys. A mere merchant, why would it take three days?"

Pei Yuan picked up the case file, turned around, and strode out of the Zhenfu Division.

He stroked the cold embroidered spring knife at his waist, a hint of mockery flashing in his eyes.

If it were the former Grand Secretary Gu Yannian, encountering a case like this...

They would certainly first consult the Yellow Register of Commercial Taxes of the Ministry of Revenue and verify the accounts of the Ever-Normal Granary.

By meticulously analyzing the case and using ironclad accounting methods, the opposing party was brought to justice.

But now he is a treacherous official, a spy.

Why should a treacherous official settle accounts when handling a case?

That night, at the Shen residence in the east of the city.

The philanthropist Shen was sleeping peacefully in the warm chamber with his newly acquired concubine in his arms.

Suddenly, a loud "boom" was heard.

The main gate of the Shen residence, studded with copper nails, was kicked away by an unparalleled force, crashing heavily onto the screen wall in the courtyard and shattering into pieces.

Dozens of Imperial Guards, each carrying a torch, stormed into the mansion like wolves and tigers.

Pei Yuan, who was at the head of the group, looked particularly alluring in his flying fish robes under the firelight.

He didn't even draw his embroidered spring knife, but sat imposingly at the stone table in the courtyard.

Shen, the philanthropist, hurriedly ran out, wearing only his clothes.

Upon seeing that it was the Embroidered Uniform Guard, he was so frightened that his legs went weak.

"My lords, I am an honest merchant. Lord Wan's men have already investigated me multiple times, and I have certainly not engaged in any smuggling!"

Shen, the philanthropist, kowtowed repeatedly.

Pei Yuan toyed with a teacup in his hand, without even lifting his eyelids.

"When I handle cases, I don't rely on evidence, I only follow the rules."

He casually tossed the teacup onto the ground, shattering it into pieces, the sound as cold and sharp as ice in the night.

"Men, tie up the entire Shen family, young and old, and hang them from the crooked tree in the yard. If Master Shen doesn't hand over the smuggling secrets, cut off one of his sons' fingers every incense stick's time."

"After cutting off the fingers, cut off the toes."