Governing the country, enriching the people, an unparalleled imperial tutor

Zhang Lin's voice sounded particularly abrupt in the empty wilderness, like a dull knife scraping back and forth on a stone: "You're nothing but a sorcerer of unknown origin! Bewitching the young emperor and sowing discord between the ruler and his ministers, do you really think you can bring me down with a few magical artifacts? Let me tell you, once I send a secret letter to the capital, at least half of the six ministries will defect! What do you have to offer..." He used both bribery and coercion, even offering up his two daughters.

He stopped halfway through shouting the last sentence.

Because the three fast horses had already rushed into the front of the formation from the official road, and before the dust kicked up by their hooves had settled, a scout covered in dust had already rolled off his saddle, staggered two steps toward Zhang Lin, and then knelt down on the ground.

His voice was hoarse from the dryness in his throat: "The Grand Tutor... the Grand Tutor's residence has been investigated!"

Zhang Lin's lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but before he could utter a word, a second scout caught up: "Urgent report from the capital! The Imperial Preceptor has secretly ordered your return to the capital. Zhou Yan and Shen Qing have led the Imperial Guards to seal off the Grand Tutor's residence! All the gold, silver, and valuables in the residence have been confiscated, and the hidden silver in the cellars, secret compartments, and even at the bottom of the lotus pond has been unearthed!"

The third spy rushed up from the side, his voice more urgent and fragmented: "The villa in the south of the city has also been searched! And... and the list of all the ministers in your household. The Grand Preceptor already had the list, from the Ministry of Revenue to the Ministry of Justice to the Censorate, not a single one was missed, they were all taken down!"

Zhang Lin's chestnut horse treaded twice in place, the clinking of silver ornaments sounding like a mocking echo at that moment. His eyes were wide open, the cloudy whites of his eyes filled with blood vessels, his lips moved as if he wanted to squeeze out a "Impossible" from his throat, but the sound was blocked by something, and only a muffled breath came out.

A commotion arose among the guards behind him. Some began to retreat, some looked down at the tips of their boots, and some unfastened their swords and placed them at their feet. Most of the twelve triangular flags had fallen, the hands holding them lowered one by one, and the last one, still standing, had its flagpole trembling slightly.

Lin Yanzhou's voice descended from the city tower. Not loud, not fast, each word clearly filling the silent wilderness outside the city.

He took a roll of paper from Zhou Chongyuan—it was a list of items seized that had been delivered by fast horse from the direction of the capital that morning. The handwriting was Zhou Yan's, neat and meticulous. His fingers slowly unrolled the paper, his voice carrying steadily in the wind.

"Liu Zhang, the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue, colluded with Zhang Lin, leaked the national treasury accounts, and accepted bribes of 47,000 taels of silver—he has been apprehended."

"Zhao Huai-ren, a secretary in the Ministry of Rites, was caught for secretly delivering secret messages from the palace to Zhang Lin and communicating with the Northern Barbarians. The evidence is conclusive."

"Qian Yong, a principal officer in the Ministry of Justice, has been arrested for falsifying case files and protecting seven of Zhang Lin's protégés from prosecution."

With each name he uttered, a barely audible gasp escaped from one of Zhang Lin's personal guards below the city walls. They recognized most of those names; some could even recall the nicknames of a few. Those men, who yesterday were in the capital, clad in official robes and engaged in lively discussions, were today locked in the Ministry of Justice's prison.

Lin Yanzhou's voice continued, "Ma Kui, the Censorate's judge, has been arrested." — This man's name caused an even more noticeable commotion below the city walls, because many people in Zhang Lin's household knew that Ma Kui was one of his most capable informants, and that he had impeached Zhang Lin's political enemies in court just half a month ago.

"Sun Chengyi, an assistant secretary in the Ministry of Works, has been arrested."

"Zhou Bingwen, a Hanlin Academy Reader-in-Waiting, has been arrested."

"Zhang Jichang, the Vice Minister of the Court of Imperial Studs—Zhang Lin's nephew, has been arrested."

When the name "Zhang Jichang" was read, Zhang Lin trembled violently, as if he had been stabbed in the back. He abruptly raised his head and looked up at the city gate, his gaze fixed on the roll of paper in Lin Yanzhou's hand, his lips trembling uncontrollably.

Lin Yanzhou didn't look up at him, and finished reading the last few lines: "The gold and silver seized in the Grand Tutor's mansion totaled 4.7 million taels of silver. There were 37 boxes of pearls and gemstones. There were 216 pieces of antique calligraphy and paintings. There were 98 land deeds, spanning the capital, Jiangnan, and Sichuan."

The area below the city was so quiet it was as if all sound had been sucked into the ground.

Four million seven hundred thousand taels. This number struck the vast wilderness like a boulder crashing into the water. Several men in Zhang Lin's personal guard exchanged glances, their eyes devoid of anger, only a chilling realization that "all the money we've earned working for him all these years has gone into his own cellar."

Lin Yanzhou finally raised his eyes, his gaze falling on the thin, purple-robed figure below the city walls. His voice was neither loud nor soft: "Zhang Lin, you old scoundrel, everything you've built up over thirty years has been uprooted overnight in the capital. Your entire household has been seized, your property confiscated, and your cronies arrested. What bargaining chips do you have left to negotiate with me? Your two daughters? This immortal can examine their credentials..."

Zhang Lin sat motionless on his chestnut horse. His purple robe billowed in the north wind, the buckle of his jade-inlaid leather belt completely undone, the belt hanging halfway down his saddle. His face turned from white to green, from green to gray, his lips moving as he uttered a few words haltingly: "Impossible...impossible...I've been managing this for thirty years...thirty years..."

No one on the city wall responded.

His voice gradually lowered, turning into a muffled murmur that was almost delirious: "Ma Kui... Zhou Bingwen... Jichang... my nephew..."

His gaze suddenly returned, his cloudy eyes reflecting the black figure on the city wall. His mouth opened, as if to utter a final curse. But the sound abruptly stopped; his right hand gripped the purple satin robe at his chest, his fingers clenching tightly as if to crush the fabric. His body lurched forward on the saddle, then slowly slumped to the left, like a sawn-off piece of dead wood, sliding off the saddle.

The chestnut horse felt the emptiness on its back, paced uneasily for a couple of steps, lowered its head, nudged the purple robe on the ground with its nose, and let out a low snort. But the person on the ground did not move.

The purple robe lay crookedly on the grayish-yellow mud, covering the withered body. The jade-inlaid leather belt lay scattered beside it, and the jade pendant had shattered upon landing, its fragments reflecting scattered sunlight in the mud. A north wind blew up, lifting a corner of the purple robe, causing it to flutter before falling back down.

Zhou Chongyuan stood atop the city wall, gazing at the motionless figure in purple robes below. He remained silent for a long time before finally whispering, "He... just like that, he fell?"

"It's fallen." Lin Yanzhou folded the roll of paper in his hand and put it into his sleeve. "When a foundation built up over thirty years is uprooted overnight, it falls faster than anyone else."

He turned and left the crenellations of the city wall without looking back. Behind him, Zhou Chongyuan's voice was low and solemn: "This subordinate will arrange for someone to prepare the body for burial."

"Bury him," Lin Yanzhou said. "As a standard for an ordinary old minister. Don't be too stingy. What he's done is enough to make him suffer in his next life. He should be given the dignity he deserves in this life."

Zhou Chongyuan paused for a moment, then bowed and clasped his hands in obeisance: "This humble general obeys."

Below the city gate, Zhang Lin's personal guard of over two thousand men was dispersing at a visible speed. Some laid down their weapons and silently walked north, while others squatted down, placed their swords on the ground, and turned to leave. No one spoke loudly, no one tried to resist, and no one even bothered to gather up the scattered corners of the purple robe lying on the ground.

They just left.

The wind continued to blow across the wilderness, gradually scattering the slivers of sunlight remaining on the shattered jade pendant. On the distant horizon, the traces of the Northern Di army had completely disappeared below the horizon, leaving only empty, grayish-yellow grass and the embers of campfires that had not yet been collected.

Meanwhile, in the capital, Zhou Yan was in the corridor of the Ministry of Justice prison, meticulously checking the long list. Torches from the Ministry of Justice burned along both sides of the corridor, illuminating the empty cells with flickering light. Most of the names on the list had already been crossed out, leaving only the last few lines.

When he finished marking the last line, he said to Shen Qing beside him, "The Imperial Advisor is right—if the rotten flesh is not removed, new flesh will not grow."

Shen Qing didn't speak, but just looked at the list filled with checkmarks and nodded.