Chapter Forty-Four: The Right Flank Departs the Camp-The Last Crown Prince of the Ming Dynasty(A few words, full of meaning.)

“We soldiers are worth little; if one dies, those high officials just add a stroke of the pen. Oh, thirteen lost, thirty-nine dead, two hundred wounded, a thousand surrendered!” Qiao Boshen’s voice swelled with emotion, his shout drawing the whole right wing of the Wu Army Camp together. “But to us soldiers, each and every one... each and every one is our brother, our neighbor, our elders and kin! All of them have been trampled by those commanding officers and high officials. When have they ever shown pity? When have they ever remembered what they owe us?”

Old Seventeen slowly closed his eyes, as if those scenes had played out just yesterday. Shivering, he spoke in a trembling voice, “All we ask for... is nothing more than to serve, receive our rations, and survive by risking our lives…”

Hearing this, Qiao Third suddenly roared in fury, “But did those officials ever give us that chance? Where did all the money and provisions sent by the court go? Must we really emulate the garrison at Jiyu Gate in the first year, burning and pillaging gunpowder, shaking the court, before these officials realize that we soldiers too are flesh and blood?”

Breathing heavily, Qiao Third scanned those around him, meeting gaze after gaze, all fixed intently upon him. From numbness, shock, and fear, he saw at last a yearning emerge—a hope that had been crushed countless times, now trembling up from the depths of their hearts. “These officials treat us as less than human, but we must never debase ourselves! Third Brother, how can we demand justice, how can we reclaim our pay and provisions? Say the word! If I, Pang, frown, I’m no more than a gutless eunuch!”

“Third Brother, give the order, we’ll follow you!”

“Third Master, issue the command!”

…

“Good, good, good! My brothers haven’t lost their backbone after all!” Qiao Third laughed heroically, looking at them all. “Since you trust me, I, Qiao, will stake my life to win justice for our brothers! To take back the money we earned by risking our lives!”

“Now, brothers, bring along Ma Shaoyu from the Ministry of War, and follow me out of the camp!”

“Out of the camp!”

“Out of the camp!!”

…

At the Imperial Academy, still oblivious to the upheaval in the court, Zhu Cilang finally managed to force a faint smile onto his near-suffocated face.

He gazed at an account book perfumed with the subtle fragrance of ink, and burst into laughter, nearly mad with joy. “At last it’s ready... at last it’s ready.”

“The Capital Garrison receives sixteen thousand taels of silver annually from the Imperial Stable, and one thousand and sixty taels from the agricultural fund. All expenses for rewarding officers and soldiers, manufacturing equipment, and various laborers’ meals are drawn from this. Yet the annual expenditure for officers alone amounts to a staggering twenty thousand taels!”

“The garrison draws over one million seventy-four thousand bushels of rice a year, an increase of more than fifty-seven thousand bushels compared to the forty-sixth year of Wanli. When did the garrison ever consume so much genuine grain? Especially when soldiers starve and struggle to survive! Such colossal embezzlement is all attributed to the inspection and drills of the thirteenth year of Chongzhen! Ridiculous! In July, August, and September of the thirteenth year, there were nine instances of continuous three-day drills. If the garrison were truly so diligent, how could it have turned to its current state?”

“And the so-called purchase of armor and battle robes—nine thousand taels a year, yet only six thousand sets? Did they think that scattering the numbers across nineteen ledgers would keep me from uncovering the truth?”

…

“So many clues, such irrefutable evidence! Enough to prove to the world that the oddities of the capital garrison are no mere rumor!” Zhu Cilang declared, laughing freely. “Our moment of victory is finally within our grasp!”

At those words, everyone’s eyes burned with fervor as they looked at him.

At that moment, none doubted they were partaking in a deed worthy of shining through the ages.

“Victory!” Xie Yi was first to cry out, his voice ringing with passion.

“Victory!”

…

Outside the Zhengyang Gate, Fu Shuxun, nearly running in his haste, quickly found his second son, Fu Rugui.

Fortunately, this time Fu Rugui was accompanying his father to court, waiting outside Zhengyang Gate; otherwise, Fu Shuxun would have had to make another fruitless trip.

Setting aside those thoughts, slightly relieved, Fu Shuxun spoke in a low, rapid voice, “My son! Take all the household servants and every horse, prepare three mounts per person, and rush immediately to the Imperial Academy, find Qin Xia! If all is well, stay there until Qin Xia finishes calculating the account book, then escort him and the results to the Ministry of Revenue! If trouble arises, quickly bring the account book and everyone back to the Ministry!”

“Yes!” Fu Rugui, sensing his father’s urgency, wasted no time. He untied a swift horse, pressed his heels to its flanks, and sped off toward their home in the southern Xunfang.

Soon, a cavalry of over twenty riders galloped north toward Chongjiaofang.

Meanwhile, Fu Shuxun hurried back to the Ministry of Revenue.

At that moment, the ministry was boiling like water in a cauldron.

Fu Shuxun revealed his hand, using the third division of the Shuntian Prefecture to arrest every clerk gathered in the Zhejiang Guild Hall and bring them all back to the ministry.

The reason was simple.

At roll call for the start of work, every court clerk had slipped away to the Zhejiang Guild Hall; is that not a violation of regulations? Especially with an official ministry document bearing the Minister’s seal—those clerks were left dumbfounded, none expecting Fu Shuxun to tear off the mask so thoroughly.

From Zhou Junliang, Supervisor of the Qingli Division of Shandong, to Wen Nangguo, Supervisor of Qingli Division of Guangxi, and Fei Jizong, the only ninth-rank official in the ministry, down to hundreds of unnamed accountants, none could resist or even find a reasonable excuse.

Thus, the ministry clerks returned to their posts in full force.

But the looks they cast at Minister Fu Shuxun needed no explanation.

Faced with their gaze, as if they wished to devour him alive, Fu Shuxun spotted Wang Zhengzhi.

“The Minister has returned! What a delight,” Wang Zhengzhi squinted, smiling. “But... the Minister’s arrival is a step too late. The so-called irrefutable evidence for the Ministry must surely be a fabrication. According to our laws, false accusers share the defendant’s punishment—is the Minister prepared for this?”

Hearing this, Fu Shuxun felt a chill in his heart.

His foundation was far too shallow!

Fu Shuxun had served outside the capital for years, lacking any roots in the palace.

Unable to extricate himself from court matters, he had to deliver messages in person.

Had he cultivated deeper connections, he could easily find an inner palace attendant to relay his message for him.

Indeed, Fu Shuxun had no one to help, and was a step behind.

But Wang Zhengzhi, long established in the capital, clearly had allies in the palace. While Fu Shuxun struggled to find someone to deliver his news, Wang Zhengzhi—and perhaps Wei Zhaocheng—certainly did!