Chapter One: Familial Bonds of the Celestial House

“Huh? Where’s Qin Xia’s name? What reward did he get? Why is there no mention of Qin Xia’s actions?” Several officials voiced their confusion, but even as the imperial edict was read to the end, Zhu Cilang’s alias never appeared.

Their curiosity, however, did not linger for long. After all, Zhu Cilang was merely a petty scribe; once those few officials finished their musings, the matter was dropped. The state treasury, for the time being, brimmed with funds, and the distribution of money and grain proceeded smoothly. Everyone was in high spirits—who would concern themselves with a minor scribe?

Only Fu Shuxun knew that, among all the rewards, Zhu Cilang’s gains were perhaps the most abundant for any individual. The scribes of the capital, spared by Fu Shuxun’s leniency, surrendered at the last moment. Though their losses were tremendous, at least they managed to preserve their positions and the prospects for their heirs. Unlike others, who saw only Fu Shuxun’s moment of glory—his resounding victory and the honors heaped upon him—Wang Rui and Lin Guchong, who had witnessed Zhu Cilang’s prowess from beginning to end, understood full well who had truly accomplished the decisive feat in the Ministry of Revenue’s reform and in quelling the military unrest.

Thus, the two perceptive men, on behalf of the capital’s scribes, sent countless carts of silver to Zhu Cilang’s residence. By Fu Shuxun’s most conservative estimate, the sum could scarcely be less than fifty thousand taels.

As for official promotions and the like, Zhu Cilang merely made a single request and then took his leave.

And then... Zhu Cilang simply vanished.

Where did he go? In the entire capital, only Si En knew. Zhu Cilang was in the inner palace, being nagged to the point where his ears nearly grew calluses.

“My child, how can I possibly praise you? I’ve told you a thousand times—should danger arise, you need only tell your father or me in the palace. Why, when you encountered marauding soldiers, did you not flee? You not only failed to run but threw yourself into their midst, blood splattering everywhere... Oh, my dear Lang’er, why won’t you take better care of your health? You’re so young, and yet... yet so reckless!” Empress Zhou’s beautiful face was taut with anxiety and lingering fear. “Lang’er, thank heaven you’re safe. If anything had happened to you, how would I... how would I ever bear it…”

Now restored to his status as Crown Prince, Zhu Cilang could only submit to her remonstrations. When her lecture subsided, he asked, “So, Mother, does this mean you’ve agreed to persuade Father to let me leave the palace?”

Empress Zhou opened her mouth, then shook her head and pressed her hand to her brow, falling silent.

In truth, Zhu Cilang understood her nature well—she had, in her own way, reluctantly accepted reality. For all her anxiety, she and her husband must, in private, have no end of pride in their son’s courage.

At that moment, Emperor Chongzhen entered. Taking in the scene, he smiled and said, “My qilin child has grown up—now he can be the pillar of his father’s reign. Of course I permit you to leave the palace. You can always return to the Ciqing Palace to advise me.”

“Father, I lack your innate wisdom; any ability I have in strategy comes solely from practical experience. If I remain in the palace too long, I fear my mind will grow dull and inflexible as before. Besides... Father... your son…” Zhu Cilang began, but Chongzhen raised his hand gently, glancing at Empress Zhou. “Empress, you had prepared lotus seed soup this morning, had you not? Why has it not been served yet?”

“I shall see to it at once,” Empress Zhou replied, understanding his intent. She rose to leave, heaving a soft sigh and squeezing Zhu Cilang’s hand. “Lang’er, do not act rashly. The palace is, after all, a safe haven.”

Zhu Cilang smiled gently in response. Only after his mother had departed did he straighten and address Chongzhen solemnly. “Father, matters of finance are nothing more than increasing revenue and cutting expenditure. But in today’s world, cutting expenditure is all but impossible—we must focus on expanding revenue. The Ministry of Revenue’s corrupt officials had hoarded a sum as great as one million two hundred ninety thousand taels, which may suffice for a time. Yet, given the court’s heavy debts and the urgent needs at the borders and within, it will scarcely last half a year before we return to poverty. Therefore, I wish to leave the capital for Linqing. The Linqing branch office of the Ministry of Revenue’s tax bureau is the foremost of the empire’s eight major customs stations. At its peak, in the late Tianqi era, annual revenues reached fifty-two thousand taels, but now it scarcely brings in ten thousand a year. I cannot bear to see such a source left untapped.”

“Stay in the capital and assist me with the Ministry of Revenue—are you telling me there will be fewer opportunities for you to achieve merit?” Chongzhen replied with a gentle smile, ignoring Zhu Cilang’s other arguments.

Yet beneath the emperor’s laughter, Zhu Cilang sensed an undercurrent of menace, and he shivered inwardly. Chongzhen’s meaning was clear: even if Zhu Cilang remained in the capital, he could still distinguish himself and address the financial crisis. After all, with the capital gathering the wealth of the realm—millions of shi of grain and several million taels of silver annually—having Zhu Cilang oversee things would be far more lucrative than a mere forty thousand taels’ annual increase.

But in the court’s present state, to attempt such a thing again would surely incite rebellion. Zhu Cilang dared not pursue the matter and quickly replied, “Father, this must not be done again! The incident at the Ministry of Revenue has left many in the capital uneasy. The best course is to reward officials and calm the people. Otherwise, things will go awry from excess of zeal! If the world learns the Crown Prince served as a scribe to seize family fortunes, the resulting outcry would be unimaginable. My own reputation is of no consequence, but if it causes officials and Your Majesty to become estranged, then my death a thousand times would not redeem me!”

At these words, Chongzhen’s smile faded, his brows knitting in thought. He did not immediately reply.

Sensing an opportunity, Zhu Cilang hurried to change the subject. “Father, there is another matter I have not yet reported…”

“Oh? What is it?” Chongzhen asked, his curiosity piqued.

“I intend to form a personal guard,” Zhu Cilang began, recounting in detail the recent mutiny among Qiao San’er’s troops in the Right Battalion of the Five Armies Camp.

His longing to command a force of his own was nothing new. In these troubled times at the end of the Ming, nothing was more important than having loyal troops at one’s command. Fu Rugui, upon observing the military discipline Zhu Cilang enforced in his household, had already guessed as much.

Therefore, when Zhu Cilang learned that there was a battle-hardened corps of veteran soldiers within the capital garrison, he decided at once to bring them under his control, no matter the cost. The mutiny in the Right Battalion did not fill Zhu Cilang with fear, but rather a kind of anticipation.

That Chen Gaowen had chosen to incite this particular band of soldiers left Zhu Cilang both wary and secretly delighted. The hunger-driven mutiny could only be resolved by restoring their pay and provisions, and who but Zhu Cilang knew better the various ills associated with army finances?

Thus, knowing full well that the mutineers were coming for him and for the account books, Zhu Cilang did not flee with his retinue as soon as he sensed danger. Instead, he accelerated the audit, sent the others away, and stayed behind to confront the rebels himself.

The only surprise was that Fu Rugui, Chang Zhilang, and Xie Yi proved more steadfast than he had expected, staying by his side and making matters a bit more complicated.