Chapter Thirty-One: For What Purpose?

When Zhu Cilang arrived at the Imperial Academy, the Qixia Pavilion within the Zhejiang Guild Hall was already filled with clerks decked in splendid robes. The various stewards from the Ministry of Revenue, all clad in Suzhou-embroidered cross-collared long gowns, were evidently very satisfied with the current unrest they had stirred.

Wen Nanguo, the steward from the Guangxi Bureau of Clean Administration, smiled and said, “Heaven truly favors us this time. On ordinary days, even with all our efforts combined, we might not have created such a grand commotion. But with the defeat at Songshan, the Emperor has lost his composure and is now bound to yield to financial pressure. With Wang Zhengzhi’s three hundred thousand taels in converted silver and one hundred thousand piculs of grain about to be released, who could possibly stop us?”

Wen’s words were met by agreement. Another steward, Zhou Junliang from the Shandong Bureau, added, “Brother Wen speaks true. This time, with a maverick like Qin Xia turning up, we've truly shown our might. Even the mighty Grand Minister of Agriculture has been brought to heel by us. If we think about it, this may not be a bad outcome. Gentlemen, let us wait and see—once Qin Xia is disposed of, perhaps we can even seize the Fujian Bureau in the capital, currently monopolized by those local rats! Should that happen, our status will rise even further!”

Zhou Junliang, as the steward of the Shandong Bureau, controlled the empire’s salt administration—the most lucrative post within the Ministry. The Fujian Bureau, on the other hand, oversaw the capital’s affairs and was a seat the native-born officials of Shuntian Prefecture coveted.

Everyone broke into laughter at this.

Only Xie Yi, the accountant from the Yunnan Bureau, seemed distracted. “The outcome is not yet decided, gentlemen. It’s a bit early to celebrate. The result of today’s court discussion at the Palace of Heavenly Purity regarding the capital garrison’s funding remains unknown. We should perhaps consider more carefully.”

Zhou Junliang glanced at Chen Gaowen, whose expression had darkened, and said with feigned concern, “Brother Chen, it seems the Yunnan Bureau doesn’t have much confidence in our inevitable victory. We understand you’ve suffered a setback, but there’s no need to boost others’ morale while dampening our own. Is there any doubt about today’s court meeting? Three hundred thousand taels—would His Majesty ever willingly part with such a sum?”

Xie Yi fell silent. The three hundred thousand taels had, after all, been embezzled by them, and now they were merely being a bit more restrained. Yet such words were impossible for Xie Yi to utter. He was, after all, a son-in-law grafted into the Shaoxing Xie clan, his position ever precarious, and so dared not say more.

But Zhou Junliang pressed on, his gaze fixed on Xie Yi, lowering his voice, “Or do you still believe Qin Xia will somehow defeat us?”

“It’s been thirteen days since Qin Xia took away the account books! Can the brat really audit hundreds of ledgers in thirteen days? We’ve already warned everyone in the city who’s capable of accounting. If you’re worried about those local rats from the capital, you needn’t be. They’ve always been arrogant and self-serving—would they ever stoop to help a condemned man? Besides, how many people would it take to audit two hundred ledgers? How long would it take? If those rats really muster a hundred people to audit, all the better—then we can deal with them in one fell swoop and be rid of their constant meddling!”

“Well said!”

“Words of a seasoned strategist.”

“Foolproof, indeed.”

As Zhou Junliang finished, the room nodded in agreement, all convinced he had thought of every contingency.

Xie Yi felt the gaze of many wary eyes upon him and could only swallow hard, forcing a bitter smile. “That’s not my meaning… I’m not siding with Qin Xia. I just think we should be fully prepared. As for our plan to incite the capital garrison, how are the preparations? Such a decisive measure…”

At this, Chen Gaowen’s expression relaxed slightly. He thought to himself that Xie Yi hadn’t completely lost his wits. He spoke slowly to ease the situation, “There’s no need to worry. According to the information from Yu Qing, Qin Xia hasn’t even left his residence—he’s powerless now. Inciting the capital garrison is a risky gambit, not to be used lightly. Let’s put this matter to rest. Xie Yi, your caution is appreciated, but perhaps you’re overthinking. Go and take a rest.”

Xie Yi opened his mouth, but said nothing, replying meekly. He knew he had now been branded as suspect in the others’ eyes. Returning to his room, he lay down on his bed, his mind awash with thoughts. He couldn’t help but recall the scenes of recent days.

The open conflict with the capital’s clerks, his brazen provocations—everyone had thought him mad, reckless, making enemies everywhere. The odds against him had been eight to one. Yet, he had won!

Everyone said he used the garrison’s account books as a pledge of loyalty, seeking to surrender and become “one of them.” But in the blink of an eye, he had struck a heavy blow, leaving the once jubilant Zhejiang faction in shock.

And now?

Xie Yi reflected that his previous success with the account books was a matter of cleverness—he had seen through Chen Gaowen’s intentions and thus passed the hurdle, earning the Zhejiang men’s guarded trust.

But this time, he needed solid evidence!

He needed irrefutable proof that the capital garrison’s officers, supervising officials, and clerks had colluded to embezzle military funds.

Without auditing the ledgers again, line by line, how could he uncover the clues, the ironclad evidence to convict the clerks?

Even with ten Xie Yis, each with his own diligence and skill in arithmetic, it would take at least half a month to find the leads.

Yet, tomorrow was the court debate on the capital garrison’s funding. If the clerks were not brought down, Fu Shuxun would surely lose to Wang Zhengzhi. Once Fu Shuxun fell, even if Zhu Cilang suddenly revealed the account books, what then?

Moreover, only Zhu Cilang had the ability to do the accounts!

“Why does Qin Xia labor so tirelessly?” Suddenly, Xie Yi found himself pondering this question.

For wealth?

If that were the case, with his intelligence, Qin Xia would know that as long as the garrison affair blew over, the Zhejiang faction would guarantee him a life of prosperity. With his talents, he could even, like Xie Yi himself, marry into a Zhejiang family and earn their full trust, rising steadily in rank.

For power?

The petty authority of a clerk, shrouded in secrecy, was nothing anyone would desire.

For fame?

A scholar stooping to become a mere clerk, for reputation’s sake? Clerks weren’t even eligible for the civil service exams!

Xie Yi took a deep breath. Perhaps…

Was it for… justice and righteousness?

For the blood of the soldiers whose pay was stolen? To see corrupt officials, military men, and clerks all brought to justice?

Then… was it for the sake of the Ming Empire?

For a realm where peace and justice reigned?

Xie Yi let out a derisive laugh. Who could be so naïve?

But as he laughed, tears suddenly welled up and began to fall.

Why did this feel so familiar, so moving it brought tears to his eyes?

Had this not been his own dream, once?

Ten years ago, was it not with such hope that a confident young scholar had come to the capital, seeking to pass the exams, to make a name for himself in the imperial audience, to leave his ideals and achievements in the annals of history?

And now, ten years had passed.

All that remained was a clerk obsessed with power and profit, scrambling and scheming.

So much so that for the sake of gain, he could abandon all thought of country, justice, righteousness, and belief.