Chapter Thirty-Three: Qin Xia Leaves the Mansion

The Artisan Compound was a large hall created by breaking through the interior walls of adjoining rooms. It was empty, stretching ten paces in length and five in width. The hall was spacious and well-lit, its center divided by two large folding screens into three distinct areas. Above each section hung a small banner inscribed with the name of the master craftsman in charge, and beneath each name was the workshop overseen by that master.

At present, Zhu Cilang was in the workshop managed by Zhang Choulv. Today, Zhang Choulv’s domain was especially festive, draped in red with celebratory decorations. The other craftsmen, gathered in numbers, looked on with envious eyes and faces ablaze with anticipation.

After all, anyone would be overjoyed to learn that ten days of hard work could earn them an extra fifty taels of silver.

As for Zhang Choulv himself, upon seeing Zhu Cilang, he clutched five large silver ingots to his chest, both excited and incredulous. “M-master… all I did was make an abacus. To be honest, it was you who gave me the blueprint, you who explained the principles. Everything I know comes from your generosity. Is it really… truly fifty taels of silver for me?”

“What’s been given to you is real. Fifty taels, right in your hands—solid and untouchable by anyone else!” Si En, standing nearby, spoke with a smile.

Compared to the approachable and benevolent Zhu Cilang, it was actually Si En—the steward who managed all the household affairs—who was more familiar and inspired greater awe among the people.

“Thank you for your reward, Master! May your house prosper for generations!” Zhang Choulv, overwhelmed, shouted his blessings.

Yet, as he listened, Si En’s expression grew rather peculiar.

Beside him, Zhang Choulv’s son tugged his father’s sleeve and then raised his own voice. “Master’s kindness, our Zhang family will remember forever. From this day on, if you tell me to go east, I’ll never chase chickens west. Whatever you need, just say the word!”

“Follow the master, do whatever needs to be done!”

…

Si En burst out laughing.

Zhu Cilang laughed as well, unconcerned by their words, and gestured them aside as he began to examine the disk-style hand-cranked calculator.

This machine functioned much like a clock, utilizing gears to handle carryovers; by turning the gears at each digit, the result would be displayed in a separate reading window on a numbered wheel. It could not only add and subtract, but also multiply and divide—far surpassing the traditional abacus. While the abacus could technically handle multiplication and division, the memorization and use of mnemonic formulas made it much less accessible than the calculator.

Even someone as slow-witted as Si En understood by now: this device was a marvel that could replace the abacus! With it, all the data Zhu Cilang had painstakingly compiled could be processed by the calculator—making the ledgers easy to manage and fully deciphered.

Yet, a new concern quickly arose in Si En’s mind.

Were there really that many people willing to work for the young prince?

At this moment, Zhu Cilang set down the calculator, which he had just tested, and asked Zhang Choulv, “What about production? How many of these disk-style hand-cranked calculators can you make in a day?”

Si En’s question sobered Zhang Choulv, but when Zhu Cilang mentioned his area of expertise, the craftsman thought for only a moment before answering, “The first one took me thirteen days because I was unfamiliar with it. But now, I could make one a day by myself!”

“That’s too slow,” Zhu Cilang shook his head. “Break down the parts—let each person make one component. In the end, the master can assemble everything.”

“I need a great many of these calculators. Spare no effort, no matter the cost or manpower, no matter the time!”

“If you need workers, all other craftsmen will be reassigned to you.”

“If you need materials, whatever we have stored is yours; if it’s not enough, I’ll have more purchased immediately—fifty percent more than what you estimate.”

“As for time! Whether it’s three shifts or two, from today, the Artisan Compound will never sleep. The lights will never go out, the people never rest, the kitchen will keep the stoves burning. Meat, vegetables—you’ll have all you need!”

“By dawn the day after tomorrow, I want to see ten hand-cranked calculators. By the third day, when I leave the estate, I want to see thirty calculators come out of this compound! Do your job well and everyone will be rewarded. Today, Zhang Choulv is your example.” Zhu Cilang spoke slowly, and all eyes shone with excitement.

At that moment, Si En raised his voice with a chill that seemed to fill the room. “But if I catch anyone slacking off or trying to cheat, you’ll get the board first and lose your silver. Do it again, and you’ll be thrown out with your family, never to return!”

“Yes, Master! I, Zhang Choulv, put my head before you—if I don’t make these things, you can have it!” the craftsman declared.

“I don’t want your head, only the calculators. Now, get to work.” Zhu Cilang finished speaking and walked out of the Artisan Compound.

On the way, Si En, having guessed Zhu Cilang’s intentions, looked at the golden box containing the hand-cranked calculator with a blend of joy and concern. “Your Highness, now that these calculators are ready, it seems anyone could be a bookkeeper. But… where can we find people who can actually be trusted to use them?”

Zhu Cilang only smiled. “Dear companion, just watch how I stir up a storm in the capital. When have I ever gone to battle unprepared?”

“Saddle the horses! Tell those arrogant fools that Qin Xia is leaving the estate!”

Before long, a fine steed galloped north, departing from Chengqing Ward and racing west, then speeding north along the great road inside Chongwen Gate, until it reached the area between Chongwenmen Inner Street and Andingmen Avenue, beside Chongjiaofang.

Here stood—the Imperial Academy.

At the same time, inside the Misty Sunrise Pavilion at the Zhejiang Guild Hall—

Fei Jizong had just returned from Zhengyang Gate, and was instantly surrounded by an eager crowd.

“Has the result of the morning audience come out? What was discussed?”

“Did Fu Shuxun finally submit his resignation in desperation? Hahaha, Wang Zhengzhi must have gotten the position of Minister of Revenue!”

“When do we deal with Qin Xia? I can hardly wait!”

Their eager faces greeted Fei Jizong, leaving him at a loss for words. Fortunately, these were only minor clerks, not worth his attention. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed them, clearing a path to the inner hall.

There, Fei Jizong met with the leading clerks of the Zhejiang Guild Hall that day.

Wen Nanguo, Chen Guangu, Zhou Junliang. Upon seeing the three, Fei Jizong forced an uneasy smile. “Fu Shuxun… has gone all out.”

“He won’t touch the pay of the Henan soldiers.”

“He won’t take away funds for Yellow River works.”

“He promises the capital’s payroll for April will be safe.”

“All he asks is for His Majesty to give him ten days to reform the Ministry of Revenue!”

“He’s willing to stake his official career on it!”

…

Fei Jizong recited, word for word, what Fu Shuxun had said in the Hall of Supreme Purity. In truth, no one at court today had any intention of keeping secrets.

As they listened, everyone fell silent, exchanging glances, all sensing the storm about to break.

“Xie Yi… he predicted it all! Is he a spy? How he saps our morale!” Zhou Junliang recalled yesterday’s conversation, his cheeks flushed.

“He’s going all in—Fu Shuxun is truly desperate. But what is his trump card? What are we to do… what can we…”

“Enough! Everyone calm down!” Fei Jizong nearly shouted himself hoarse. “We haven’t lost yet! There’s still a chance!”