Chapter Twelve: A Day in the Ministry of Revenue

Today, Zhu Cilang’s decision clearly reflected his distrust of the Beijing faction clerks like Wang Rui and Lin Guzhong. Yet, without the protection of these Beijing bureaucrats, how could he hope to fulfill the daunting task handed down by Chen Gaowen? Zhu Cilang thought of the flogging ten days hence, and the image of his own flesh torn from his backside flashed before his eyes.

Caught between a rock and a hard place, with disaster looming both ahead and behind, Zhu Cilang wondered: how could he possibly find a sliver of hope amidst such peril?

He lingered on the account books and the words exchanged earlier, sinking deep into thought.

When he was finally alone in the office, surrounded by account ledgers encircling his desk, Zhu Cilang slowly broke into a smile.

“Fortunately… I never intended to be weak from the very start!”

His superior, Chen Gaowen, showed not an ounce of warmth toward this newcomer whose origins were unknown. Tossing him the Beijing Garrison’s accounts, it was clear to Zhu Cilang that these ledgers were nothing short of a treacherous pit—a ticking time bomb.

If Zhu Cilang had truly been a mole sent by the civil service to stir trouble among the clerks, he would have exposed the evidence of their embezzlement without hesitation. But such a civil servant, unfamiliar with the intricate affairs of the bureaucracy, would never grasp the vast interests lurking behind the Beijing Garrison. When the military aristocrats struck back, Zhu Cilang, the first to challenge them, would be the first to perish.

Indeed, faced with such a fierce backlash, the civil officials who merely sought power and profit would hardly risk themselves. Throwing Zhu Cilang to the wolves to appease the angry generals would be the least of it; pinning the blame on him to restore peace would be the likeliest outcome.

Testing Zhu Cilang’s loyalties, flaunting the arrogance of those who manipulate the newcomer—that was clearly Chen Gaowen’s intent.

Of course, all these speculations rested on the assumption that Zhu Cilang was truly the spy sent by the civil service. But was he?

Perhaps he was not far from it; indeed he came to stir the waters, but certainly not as one of those corrupt officials who only seek to line their pockets or seize power!

Moreover...

“Would Chen Gaowen overlook this step? Would those behind Lin Guzhong and Wang Rui fail to foresee it?” Zhu Cilang’s eyes narrowed.

Chen Gaowen was a sly old fox. There was an eighty percent chance he had already thoroughly examined the Beijing Garrison’s accounts. Did he not worry that the bomb he threw in would end up wounding himself instead of the intended target?

Zhu Cilang chuckled softly.

Everyone believes themselves to be the clever one. Yet, in truth, the world knows neither cleverness nor stupidity—only those who laugh last have the right to call others fools.

The bell tolled; it was time for the midday meal. Zhu Cilang put down his pen and ceased his musings.

If one observed Zhu Cilang closely, they would notice that after poring over the account books repeatedly, he would lapse into a trance. This time, his reverie lasted over a quarter of an hour.

The Ministry of Revenue naturally had its own cafeteria. With official duties so pressing, running home for a meal would leave those living far away hungry. Zhu Cilang went to the dining hall, collected his meal, and sought a place to sit.

Dining here was stratified: the highest-ranking supervisors had their own private rooms; the middle managers had their tables in the main hall; while the lowest clerks could only find seats at the long benches and tables.

As Zhu Cilang entered the area for the lower clerks, something strange occurred.

When he sat down with his meal, every clerk eating there raised their heads in unison to look at him. The sounds of eating, conversation, and movement stopped abruptly—as if an intruder had entered a previously harmonious environment, everyone suddenly wary and guarded.

Zhu Cilang tried to sit closer to the crowd, but unexpectedly, the clerks began packing up their utensils one after another.

A chill gripped Zhu Cilang’s heart; he turned and retreated to a corner to eat alone.

The clatter of utensils resumed, and the din of eating, chatter, and movement returned to its usual bustle.

Zhu Cilang found no pleasure in his meal. Amidst the noisy conversations, he soon heard his own name mentioned.

“He entered the office and immediately challenged Chen Gaowen, the supervisor of the Yunnan Department. This Qin Knight’s courage is certainly worthy of praise.”

“Brave, but reckless. Calves may not fear tigers, but most are struck down with a single swipe.”

“Haha, indeed. Ignorance is fearlessness. This fellow even snubbed those troublemakers in the capital. Seems he’s been duped into coming here as cannon fodder.”

“Hey, we’re eating here. Can’t you avoid talking about those muckrakers? Just eat your food!”

“Hahaha…”

Zhu Cilang hurriedly shoveled down his meal, quickly tidied his box, and rushed back to the office.

Staring at the mountain of account books, Zhu Cilang fell into a brief daze, then suddenly approached a group of clerks chatting in official language.

“Fellow colleagues, I am Qin Knight. May I borrow an abacus?”

The clerks, previously engrossed in conversation, fell silent. Eight eyes fixed on Zhu Cilang, not a word spoken.

Their gaze was as if they were looking at a talking corpse.

At last, one clerk who was working picked up an abacus and handed it to Zhu Cilang, saying, “This is public property of the Ministry. You’re new here and haven’t yet gone to the administrative office to collect your own. Take mine for now; as fellow officials, borrowing is no issue.”

“Thank you,” Zhu Cilang accepted the abacus.

The clerk looked at him and said, “We’re colleagues, it’s only natural. My name is Xie Yi. Tomorrow, collect your own abacus from the administrative office and return this to me.”

“Thank you very much, Brother Xie,” Zhu Cilang said earnestly, warmed by the gesture.

Xie Yi nodded and returned to his work.

Leaving Xie Yi, Zhu Cilang plunged into the sea of account books. With brush in hand, he moved swiftly, occasionally pausing to work the abacus.

To everyone’s surprise, Zhu Cilang’s skill with the abacus was exceptional. He struck the beads with crisp, precise movements, rarely pausing. The rhythmic sound of the abacus, though monotonous in the quiet office, carried a harmonious cadence.

For a moment, those who had been chatting and boasting felt embarrassed and dispersed.

Zhu Cilang’s accounting prowess soon became evident to all the clerks.

They were all seasoned veterans; none lacked skill in their trade. Outsiders watched for spectacle, insiders for technique. The way Zhu Cilang cleared the abacus and manipulated the beads showed a fluency and expertise far beyond mere pretense.

“He’s certainly got some skill, but it’s a pity…” a soft voice sighed.

“He’s up to the level of an old hand, but this workload is at least fifteen days’ worth for a team of seasoned clerks. Even with true ability, what good is it? To be so abused by those people… alas…”

“Get to work. This time, the Grand Minister is auditing not just the Beijing Garrison!” Xie Yi, as he was called, spoke in a low voice, and the others bowed their heads.

“Yes, Supervisor Xie.”

…