Chapter Ten: Encountering the Beijing School

Wang Rui's eyes flickered as he nodded pointedly at Lin Guchong, his smile narrowing his eyes as he said to Zhu Cilang, “Brother Qin is a man who knows how to get things done; I’ll take care of this for you. If you can’t get through this round and are due for a caning by the Office of Provisions, I’ll help smooth things over too, make sure they do their job properly. Rest assured, you won’t be shortchanged.”

The Office of Provisions was also responsible for the clerks’ attendance. Failing to show up, breaking the rules, or disrespecting the law—these all led to a beating. Especially during the busy periods when summer and autumn rations or military stipends were allocated, the supervisors always felt their men weren’t attentive enough unless a few were punished.

Of course, there was an art to how the beating was administered. The yamen runners in the Office of Provisions made their living this way. Whether it was a “ruthless beating,” a “solid beating,” a “forceful beating,” or a “thoughtful beating,” each was entirely different.

A forceful beating could leave one in agony, possibly even crippled if things went awry. But a “thoughtful beating” looked gruesome with skin split and blood drawn, yet with some ointment, one could be up and about the very next day.

“Much obliged, truly.” Zhu Cilang felt a pang in his heart. He had only brought five hundred taels of silver on this trip, and now he’d casually tossed out a full percent of it. These clerks—what black hearts and blacker hands!

Lin Guchong lowered his voice. “Dealing with the Capital Garrison, there are three troubles. Brother Qin, this hurdle of yours is a hard one.”

“But who’s to say how things will end? There’s no need to crush our own morale so soon. Please, Brother Lin, speak plainly.” Zhu Cilang’s tone didn’t change; he showed no sign of nervousness.

Chuckling dryly, Lin Guchong said, “Very well, I’ll get straight to the point. First, the Capital Garrison’s ledgers are an intricate mess. Typically, one supervisor leads two assistants in auditing them, with a ten-day deadline. But who can finish in ten days? It’s all for show for the higher-ups, who usually grant extensions out of understanding. But this time, since you embarrassed the supervisors, you’ll be forced to deliver results in ten days. Asking for more time will be tough.”

Zhu Cilang nodded slightly. The workload was immense, and with no one to help, this was a deadlock. If he failed to finish on time, he’d be due for a beating—there was no escaping this trial.

“Second. Even if you endure several days of beatings and manage to clarify the accounts, are these accounts truly possible to decipher? The details of military stipends are many and varied, and those who made these books are all seasoned experts. Brother Qin, are you confident you can find any irregularities?” Lin Guchong scrutinized Zhu Cilang. Accounting was a highly technical craft; even with his own experience, Lin Guchong wasn’t sure he could manage it.

Zhu Cilang’s expression was unreadable. He knew the real confrontation was about to begin. Soon it would be clear whether those ten taels had been worth spending.

Lin Guchong felt a measure of respect for Zhu Cilang’s composure but was also slightly irked. How could a newcomer shine so brightly and make the old hands look incompetent?

He smoothed his mood with an effort, hardened his resolve, and decided to unleash his trump card to make this newcomer yield.

Drawing a deep breath, Lin Guchong’s gaze sharpened. “Third,” he said, “even if you uncover something, do you realize who’s implicated in the Capital Garrison? It’s all the noble families of the capital, drawing unearned pay, occupying military quotas, using soldiers for their own profit—each and every matter touches their fortunes and livelihoods. Brother, do you really plan to push this investigation? The military nobles wield swords, not pens; they don’t just submit memorials like the civil officials. Military men act far more directly. What, are you scared? Even if you are, it won’t help you. If trouble arises, who’ll take the blame? The local magistrate is powerless here—this is the Ministry of Revenue, a full second-rank office! If something goes wrong, your slight frame won’t withstand the consequences.”

At last, Zhu Cilang furrowed his brow.

Only now did Zhu Cilang fully grasp what kind of pit lay before him—a pit not meant to trip him, but a hellish passage bristling with hidden spikes and deadly traps.

“Damn it! Did I steal your sister or bury your mother, to have you set such a deadly trap for me right from the start?” Zhu Cilang’s heart went cold, his expression shifting rapidly.

Seeing his reaction, Lin Guchong exchanged a glance with Wang Rui, grinned, and nodded slightly, satisfied. Their candor had finally rattled Zhu Cilang, which delighted them after their earlier discontent at his composure—they were certain they’d soon have him under their thumb.

Wang Rui slung an arm companionably around Zhu Cilang’s shoulders, his tone warm and gentle. “Brother Qin, I admire your quick wit today. Talented men are rare, and we brothers ought to band together for mutual support, don’t you think? I have a way out for you—if you need a helping hand, just say the word.”

He shot a meaningful glance at the ledgers as he spoke.

But Zhu Cilang, rather than feeling comforted by Wang Rui’s gesture, felt as though a python had coiled around him, goosebumps prickling on his skin. Unmoved, he folded his arms, slipped free from Wang Rui’s grasp, and looked at the two men. “You’re not from Zhejiang, are you?”

“That’s right. The two of us are native sons of the capital. Even though many Zhejiang men dominate the clerical ranks here in the Ministry of Revenue, this is still the capital,” Wang Rui replied coldly, casting a glance at the Zhejiang men speaking in their native dialect.

The pride in Wang Rui’s expression spoke volumes. Piecing together the earlier conversation, Zhu Cilang understood their intentions. If trouble did arise, he truly wouldn’t be able to bear the consequences alone. But if he allied himself with a powerful backer, someone would shield him from the fallout, so long as his hands remained clean of any illicit silver. He’d emerge unscathed.

Of course, joining them meant he’d have to offer something of value—proof of loyalty, so to speak. And if he managed to uncover any dirt and bring trouble to Chen Gaowen, the Zhejiang faction’s leader, these native capital clerks would be only too happy.

Zhu Cilang narrowed his eyes, scanning the room and the many glances directed his way. Suddenly he said, “I appreciate your kindness, gentlemen. But as I said, who can say how this will end? Perhaps you’re both worrying too much.”

Lin Guchong’s smile froze, and he coughed dryly. “So, Brother Qin, you plan to tough it out and hope for a miracle? I’ve been around the Ministry a good few years, so take my advice: beneath these waters, all manner of monsters and devils lurk. If you’re determined to tough it out, I’ll do you one last favor and help smooth things over with the Office of Provisions for your caning in ten days.”

“That won’t be necessary!” Zhu Cilang rose to his feet. “If we walk different paths, we can’t work together. I believe that with a righteous heart and diligent work, there’s nothing to fear.”

Clang!

Two silver ingots hit the table, drawing every eye in the room.