Chapter 392: Turning Black to White, Acting Against the Dao

Zou Zou Diguang gathered students to recount how the imperial examinations of the fifth and eighth years of Emperor Wanli had been manipulated by court luminaries; had it not been reported, it would have remained mere gossip, and such gossip would inevitably damage Zhang Zhang Juzheng's reputation—but Zhu Zhu Yijun shouted for the authorities, bringing the matter into official scrutiny, and Tang Tang Xianzu, one of the parties involved, immediately began to crack.

Now, the noble son of the Huang family of Penglai, allied by marriage to the Qi family, chose to report the matter to the authorities to defend Zhang Zhang Juzheng's reputation.

Qi Qi Jiguang himself was a protégé of Zhang Zhang Juzheng; defending Zhang Zhang Juzheng's name was equivalent to defending his own.

Tang Tang Xianzu feared the Shuntian Prefecture Southern Yamen—even for a family of such prestige, the capital's Southern Yamen was vastly different from local ones—and what he feared most was being entangled in litigation, for once involved, he could not take the upcoming metropolitan examination; once the examination hall gates closed, he would have to wait another three years.

Upon hearing the report from the staff of Yanxing Tower, the Shuntian Prefecture immediately dispatched a private secretary and Southern Yamen runners; on one side was a rising celebrity, on the other, a servant of the General's household—this noble son of the Penglai Huang family had long been arrogant, yet General Qi had never once disciplined him.

The Shuntian prefectural secretary was from Zhejiang and shared a native dialect with Zou Zou Diguang; after babbling in their hometown tongue, he switched to official Mandarin and shouted loudly: "The metropolitan examination is imminent—why are you loafing about, stirring up trouble instead of studying? Do you wish to end up like me, failing the exams? No one is to speak—anyone who speaks gets thrown into jail! Go home at once!"

"Is this secretary planning to shield a fellow townsman?" Zhu Zhu Yijun frowned sharply. "I am a man of the General's household—we will report this to General Qi. I know Wang Wang Yie too. Does the Prince's Chancellor know what you're doing? Beneath the Son of Heaven's gaze, in the empire's foremost land, you openly shield a compatriot in broad daylight!"

"What crime does this warrant?"

The burly retainers blocked the exits, clearly determined to escalate the matter; the students all wanted to leave but could not, and tension mounted.

The secretary, drenched in sweat, hiked up his trousers and scrambled up five flights of stairs, three steps at a time, arriving at the Gan-character private booth, bowing and scraping: "Young Master Huang, I am but a secretary, running errands for the Chancellor. I am not shielding a townsman—please, disperse."

"I understand the matter: Young Master Huang acts to protect Jiangling's reputation. But if this continues, it harms both General Qi's and Jiangling's reputations—street gossip will inevitably arise, accusing the Grand Tutor of monopolizing power and General Qi of bullying scholars with military might."

"Everyone knows how these scholars talk—utter nonsense when they let loose."

"These students come from all corners of the empire; after the examination, they return home and will surely exaggerate. The Grand Tutor and General Qi serve the state loyally, enduring great hardship. Young Master Huang, please understand the difficulties faced by Wen, Zhang, Wu, and Qi."

Zhang Zhang Juzheng sat up straight—this secretary's words carried a certain logic.

"Zou Zou Diguang, Tang Tang Xianzu, and the three sly-looking compatriots beside them cannot leave. Everyone else may go." Zhu Zhu Yijun raised an eyebrow. "Secretary, you're young—twenty yet? Why not take the exams? Why choose to be someone's private secretary?"

The secretary bowed again: "Young Master Huang, I am twenty-five. It is said that living in the capital is exceedingly difficult. I passed the provincial examination in Emperor Wanli's first year, became a private secretary to earn a living, hoping to pass the metropolitan exam. I failed once and lost confidence—I wait, hoping to enter the examination hall again."

"What is your name?"

"My surname is Dong, my given name Dong Qichang." Dong Dong Qichang spoke with utmost deference.

Both sides were people he dared not offend—he had to mediate. If he could settle it, avoiding the Southern Yamen was best; if not, and it reached the Southern Yamen, and the accusation was proven false, Zou Zou Diguang would at minimum lose his degree—even if the Grand Secretary did not hold a grudge, even without petty sycophants meddling, under Great Ming law, he might still be exiled three thousand li.

"Bring them in," Zhu Zhu Yijun said cheerfully.

The secretary straightened his back as he left the booth, stormed toward the two men with a furious face, and in his native dialect told Zou Zou Diguang: "You're so foolish—how will you ever secure office? When immortals fight, let the immortals handle it. What are you? When you go in, speak carefully—Young Master Huang is reasonable and does not wish to drive matters to extremes."

"A sycophant, nothing more," Zou Zou Diguang replied coldly in Mandarin, then strode up the stairs and flung the door open.

Dong Dong Qichang froze, pointing at himself, then at Zou Zou Diguang, utterly incredulous—what filth is this!

"Bolstered by General Qi's favor, you act lawlessly! Has no one in your family taught you propriety, righteousness, integrity, and shame? I will surely impeach General Qi when I return!"

Zhu Zhu Yijun laughed bitterly. Yin Governor Yin Zhengmao choked on his tea. Had the Ming scholars grown so bold in just a few years since he left the capital?

That was Qi Qi Jiguang—the man who walked like a conqueror on the battlefield.

Behind them, Secretary Dong Dong Qichang truly wished to kick this fool to the ground and rip out his tongue!

"The entire court is silent as a tomb—do you truly dare submit such a memorial? If you do, I will admire you as a true man," Zhu Zhu Yijun said calmly, staring at Zou Zou Diguang.

The Ming officials' disregard for Qi Qi Jiguang resembled how no one dared condemn Emperor Jiajing's obsession with Daoist rites—only Hai Rui dared to carry his coffin to plead. If Zou Zou Diguang truly submitted this memorial, Zhu Zhu Yijun would at least grant him one mark: he possessed backbone.

"Do you dare?" Zhu Zhu Yijun stared at Zou Zou Diguang—life or death hung on Zou Zou Diguang's next word.

"How dare I not!" Zou Zou Diguang shouted, gritting his teeth.

Zhu Zhu Yijun signaled Zhang Hong: "Bring ink, brush, paper, and inkstone."

"Yes."

Ink, brush, paper, and inkstone were placed before Zou Zou Diguang. Zhang Zhang Juzheng and Yin Governor Yin Zhengmao exchanged glances, curious about Zou Zou Diguang's choice. Zhang Zhang Juzheng had once, in his 1549 "Memorial on State Affairs," compared Tang Xuanzong with the Daoist Master, criticizing the difficulty of sustaining virtue—literally accusing the Daoist Master: "You grow more like Tang Xuanzong every day!"

If Zou Zou Diguang truly had this courage, he would defy the typical traits of the contemptible scholar. Zhang Zhang Juzheng would not mind recommending him to the Emperor, giving him a chance to prove himself.

Zou Zou Diguang's temple veins twitched—he had spoken in anger, but to write it? He dared not. He had passed the metropolitan examination five years ago; recently, General Qi had appeared in the Western Flower Hall of the imperial study, endorsing the Emperor's foolish decrees. Yet no one in court dared speak.

Could not? Or dared not?

"Ah! You dare employ eunuchs! This is a grave act of usurpation!" Zou Zou Diguang's eyes lit up—he seized his opening, thinking he could threaten: if Young Master Huang refused to withdraw the case, then he, Zou Zou Diguang, would go down with him!

Zhu Zhu Yijun waved his hand: "The Emperor bestowed them. The Emperor has gifted the General's household far too many things—these eunuchs were sent from the palace. If you doubt it, report us. We dared bring them out into the streets, flaunting them so brazenly—we are not afraid of your accusation."

"Do not sidestep the issue. Will you write the memorial impeaching General Qi?"

Zhu Zhu Yijun's intervention was Zou Zou Diguang's first chance; now, asking him to write the impeachment memorial was his second. Secretary Dong Dong Qichang read people well—he knew Young Master Huang did not wish to drive matters to extremes. But Zou Zou Diguang refused the olive branch and called Dong Dong Qichang a sycophant.

Dong Dong Qichang now said nothing—he studied Yin Governor Yin Zhengmao and Zhang Zhang Juzheng. These two were clearly high-ranking men. Especially Yin Governor Yin Zhengmao: dressed as a scholar, yet radiating lethal aura—strangely odd.

Recently, Yin, the minister from Luzon, fit this description of a man both literary and martial.

If Zou Zou Diguang had eyes, he would see the scene in this booth and know when to yield. Han Xin endured the humiliation of crawling between legs—yet became the divine general who amassed countless troops.

"I will not write!" Zou Zou Diguang ultimately lacked the resolve. The cost of offending Young Master Huang differed vastly from offending Qi Qi Jiguang. At this point, it was still a quarrel; to write the memorial would be to destroy Qi Qi Jiguang utterly.

"So much for him." Zhu Zhu Yijun glanced at Zhang Zhang Juzheng. Honestly, he had harbored a faint hope that Ming Ming Jinshi might have been deceived or used as a pawn—but now it was clear: not at all.

Qi Qi Jiguang could not be bullied—he had a hundred thousand troops. Zhang Zhang Juzheng could be bullied—he was a gentleman.

Was this not bullying the honest?

"You, Tang Juren—do you too intend to climb to office by trampling Jiangling's reputation?" Zhu Zhu Yijun turned to Tang Tang Xianzu, the scholar famed as the Sage of Ming Drama and the Ming Shakespeare. Did he, like Zou Zou Diguang, intend to use Zhang Zhang Juzheng's reputation as a stepping stone?

Tang Tang Xianzu now understood. He sighed helplessly: "Jiangling's fellow townsman Wang Zuo Zhuan has indeed been networking, manipulating the examinations—deliberately scoring candidates poorly to clear space for Jiangling's third son. Even if he serves the state loyally as Grand Secretary, I cannot condone such conduct."

Zhu Zhu Yijun tilted his head and called out: "Minister Wang, have you watched enough? If you can't see clearly, come inside."

Wang Qian had only stuck his head out, but hearing the Emperor summon him, he walked over with a grin, bowing: "Brother, what refined entertainment! I've brought Jiangling's fellow townsman Wang Zuo Zhuan for you. Enjoy yourself."

"Bring him up!"

The key witness, Wang Zuo Zhuan, was dragged in by two retainers.

Dong Dong Qichang was screaming internally—something was wrong, utterly wrong!

He knew Wang Qian's nature well. Who had Wang Qian ever shown deference to? The kind of man who might as well tattoo "My Father Is Minister of Justice" on his face—he had caused the Shuntian Prefecture endless trouble! Wang Qian was truly untouchable—even Zhang Zhang Juzheng's sons were avoided, not humbled.

Look at this wealthy capital youth now—he was groveling, and had even arrested the man beforehand.

Who was this Young Master Huang? Dong Dong Qichang had already guessed nine out of ten: only the one in the palace warranted such deference from the son of the Deputy Grand Secretary. Even Zhang Zhang Juzheng did not merit it—the Wang family still had some pride, though little.

But Zou Zou Diguang saw it differently. He sneered: "Cry thief! Snake and rat, same den!"

"Zou Zou Diguang, I've given you face, have I?" Wang Qian's face darkened—he was about to explode, then the anger vanished instantly. He stepped aside, as if nothing had happened, his mood shifting like flipping a page.

"Is this the man?" Zhu Zhu Yijun ignored Zou Zou Diguang, turning to Tang Tang Xianzu.

"Yes," Tang Tang Xianzu nodded. It was Wang Zuo Zhuan who had been networking, recruiting candidates as props and stepping stones. Tang Tang Xianzu had been a prop; many students had been stepping stones.

"Do you work at the Quanzhou Hall? Do you have its official badge?" Zhu Zhu Yijun asked the so-called fellow townsman Wang Zuo Zhuan.

Wang Zuo Zhuan struggled fiercely. He had been kidnapped that morning, stuffed into a sack—furious, he spat out the cloth and shouted: "I work at the Quanzhou Hall! Let go of me! When Jiangling finds out, you'll all be doomed!"

In truth, he was not from the Quanzhou Hall at all—he was an imposter. Zhu Zhu Yijun visited the Quanzhou Hall every 24th of the month for meals—everyone in the capital knew it. He always caused chaos there, and the cooks recognized him—he always checked if the kitchen had chili peppers.

The washerwomen at the Quanzhou Hall also knew Zhu Zhu Yijun—he had personally inspected every Persian girl there, certain none were present. He had gifted two Persian girls to Zhang Zhang Juzheng, who refused them.

"Minister Wang, the rest is yours," Zhu Zhu Yijun rose and departed with his entourage.

Wang Qian, a Ming censor, was like a dog scenting blood—censors acted on hearsay, biting anyone they could. Their authority was immense: they managed everything. Zou Zou Diguang was no Tang Tang Xianzu—he held a degree and served as a Director in the Ministry of Works, under Wang Qian's jurisdiction.

"Your Excellency, go in peace—leave this to me," Wang Qian bowed deeply, waiting until the Emperor descended before straightening, resuming his arrogant demeanor. He stared at Zou Zou Diguang, lips twitching: "You dared call me snake and rat? In my entire life, no one has dared speak to me thus! You've offended me—your crime is grave!"

"You—go prepare for the examination. Don't spend your days like a fool being toyed with." Wang Qian looked at Tang Tang Xianzu. He was thirty, still being made a fool of—such things demanded silence. Zou Zou Diguang was using Tang Tang Xianzu's reputation.

Tang Tang Xianzu wiped sweat from his brow and prepared to leave.

Wang Qian suddenly called: "Tang Tang Xianzu."

"Minister Wang? What is it?" Tang Tang Xianzu paused, puzzled.

Wang Qian spoke calmly: "When you came to the capital for the examination, did you never consider that someone might be impersonating the Grand Tutor to deceive people? Or did you know someone was impersonating him, yet came anyway? We are all officials' families. For a man of the Grand Tutor's stature, if he truly wished to manipulate the examinations, would he act from above or below?"

"If you knew someone was impersonating him and still came, the Emperor judges by deeds, not intentions. This time, lacking evidence, you escaped—but be more careful in future."

"If you never considered it, I advise you: don't take the examination. The bureaucracy is not for you."

"That is all."

"Thank you, Minister Wang, for your teaching," Tang Tang Xianzu bowed again, then descended the stairs, gripping the railing. Whether he came for reputation or justice—only Tang Tang Xianzu knew.

While Wang Qian was pressing his advantage, Zhu Zhu Yijun dispatched secret police to investigate. Zhao Meng did not disappoint—he began with Wang Zuo Zhuan, built a complete profile, and ultimately uncovered the mastermind: Wang Ji, Zou Zou Diguang's mentor, a Ming Jinshi of the thirteenth year of Emperor Jiajing's reign, later dismissed, now lecturing widely as the leader of the Zhezhong school of Mind Learning.

Wang Ji was one of Wang Wang Yangming's most favored disciples. Unlike Zhang Zhang Juzheng's emphasis on unity of knowledge and action, after Wang Wang Yangming, Ming Mind Learning had veered entirely into the error of discussing only innate conscience—a development Zhang Zhang Juzheng deeply lamented. "Zhixing Zhixing Heyi of knowledge and action, attaining innate conscience"—true understanding required rigorous discernment. By Emperor Wanli's reign, the doctrine had devolved into mystical intuition: no study, no thought, natural innate goodness, a single thought penetrating the subtle.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng reformed education, strictly banning gatherings for teaching. This made Mind Learning disciples view Zhang Zhang Juzheng as a traitor.

Wang Ji's goal was simple: to probe. Recently, friction had arisen between the Emperor and the Grand Secretary; Zhang Zhang Juzheng and the Emperor had grown distant. Wang Ji sought to widen this rift, ultimately causing estrangement between sovereign and minister, stripping Zhang Zhang Juzheng of imperial favor—then the final assault would come.

Yet no evidence pointed to Wang Ji—all evidence pointed to the frontline actor: Zou Zou Diguang.

"As Master said, these people are biding their time, waiting—for Master to depart, for me to stand alone." Zhu Zhu Yijun tossed the memorial onto the table, frowning. "If Master truly leaves, his reputation will instantly shift from pillar of the state to treacherous minister who deceives the sovereign."

"Your Majesty is wise," Feng Bao bowed.

If Zhang Zhang Juzheng truly departed, Feng Bao would be first to suffer—being sent to Fengyang to till vegetables would be a good fate.

The metropolitan examination of February, Emperor Wanli eighth year, raged on. Zou Zou Diguang's disturbance ended with his degree revoked and exile to Java. His brutal fate silenced the restless among the court.

This punishment came from the Ministry of Justice, the Court of Judicial Review, and the Censorate, based on Great Ming Law's "Countercharge for False Accusation": falsely accusing three or four people—100 strokes, three years' hard labor; five or six—100 strokes, exile three thousand li; if the accusation is grave, punishment is heavier; accusing ten or more—death by slicing, head displayed in hometown, family exiled beyond the borders.

"Grave accusation" meant fifth-rank or higher. Hence, the heavier punishment: exile three thousand li—hence Java.

According to Zhu Zhu Yijun's wishes, Zou Zou Diguang should have been sent to the Dissection Institute—or beheaded publicly. But Zhang Zhang Juzheng strongly opposed.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng argued: if Zou Zou Diguang were executed, it would confirm the accusation that he manipulated the examinations. Since law existed, it must be applied—both for personal reputation and for the dignity of state law.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng was the party involved—he chose leniency. Zhu Zhu Yijun could only agree.

Yin Governor Yin Zhengmao was right: these beasts were bullying Zhang Zhang Juzheng because he was a gentleman.

If Zhang Zhang Juzheng had merely learned how past power ministers dealt with opponents, Zou Zou Diguang, Wu Wu Zhongxing, Zhao Zhao Yongxian—these contemptible scholars—would have long since had three-foot-high grass growing on their graves.

In March, Emperor Wanli eighth year, Zhu Zhu Yijun presided over the palace examination, admitting three hundred candidates, then added twenty-seven more as special imperial Ming Jinshi—all were diligent officials, the most tireless among them—whether unlucky or underperforming, they had failed the examination but distinguished themselves in office; Zhu Zhu Yijun granted them official status.

Without this status, these twenty-seven would have remained stuck as county magistrates. Few, like Hai Rui, rose from juren to second-rank official.

Interestingly, Zhang Zhang Juzheng's third son, Zhang Zhang Maoxiu, topped the list—but soon after, he entered the Imperial Academy of Natural Philosophy as a Natural Philosopher, studying the infinite principles of things alongside his elder brother.

Zhang Zhang Siwen and Zhang Zhang Maoxiu, because of their father, could not hold office even after passing the Ming Jinshi exam. Zhang Zhang Juzheng was no Yan Song, no Xu Xu Jie—Yan Song's son Yan Yan Shifan was the Junior Grand Secretary; Xu Xu Jie's son Xu Pan was Assistant Minister of Rites.

The Imperial Academy of Natural Philosophy was indeed a fine place.

Meanwhile, within the Western City Wall, former Grand Secretary Gao Gong and former Minister of Justice Wang Wang Zhihao sat together studying the list of new Ming Jinshi. Perhaps due to court benevolence toward the elderly, and the Ming treasury's newfound wealth, both received full salaries and seasonal gifts—living comfortably.

Gao Gong set down his teacup, put on his reading glasses, and looked at the list of new Ming Jinshi with a smile: "This year, military households account for thirty-five percent—105 candidates altogether, fifteen more than last session. A good sign."

Military households are a resilient force in the Great Ming's political arena. Gao Gong himself came from a military household, but unlike Zhang Zhang Juzheng, the commoner's son, Gao was born into an official family—his father had been a Ming Jinshi and served as Junior Director of the Guanglu Temple.

Famous ministers like Li Li Dongyang, Wan An, Liu Ji, Liang Chu, Zi Xia Yan, and Wang Wang Jiaoping also rose from military households. This force effectively restrains the extravagant households, silencing their lies and reversing their corruption.

Since the Tian Shun era, the number of Ming Jinshi from military households had steadily declined, dipping below twenty-five percent during the Hongzhi reign. Now it has rebounded to thirty-five percent, matching the Jing Tai era.

"It will only grow from here. Jiangling Gong has reformed the education system. The academies of the Great Ming's capital troops and navy aren't private schools—they're state academies. If this is done right, hmm." Wang Wang Zhigao chuckled. "I'm not mocking these extravagant households—they're being uprooted by Zhang Zhang Juzheng, yet still fussing over temporary gains. How foolish can they be?"

"With the imperial examinations now including questions on statecraft and arithmetic, these aristocratic youths, ignorant of the people's hardships, will find it harder and harder to pass as Ming Jinshi."

Gao Gong leaned back in his high-backed chair, frowning slightly. "You're his in-law. Why not tell him? Can't you be reinstated? Sitting here every day chatting with this old man—how dull."

"I can't go back. I'm a deserter. The Emperor trusts me, but Zhang Zhang Juzheng will never trust me." Wang Wang Zhigao pointed to himself and shook his head. "I'm even worse off than you."

Gao Gong picked up a miscellaneous report and studied it for a long time. The official gazette had few words but heavy matters—lacking analysis. The factional newsletters, however, were well done. He handed one to Wang Wang Zhigao: "Right now, only Henan and Sichuan remain major obstacles in the land survey."

"Henan's many princely houses make surveying hard—that's understandable. But Shandong's Kong Mansion in Yanzhou has fallen. Why is Sichuan still such a headache?" Wang Wang Zhigao finished reading the report. In the Great Ming's land survey and land restitution, Henan lagged farthest, followed closely by Sichuan.

Zhang Zhang Juzheng began the land survey in Emperor Wanli Year One, and by Emperor Wanli Thirteen, Henan and Shandong still hadn't finished. They finally fudged the numbers and reported completion. Besides these two hardest cases, Sichuan was next.

"The first difficulty is collusion between extravagant households and native chieftains—holding back bandits to strengthen oneself isn't just a military general's trick. The second is the Yang family of Xindu—the Yang of Yang Yang Tinghe. After the Wu Zong Emperor passed, Yang Yang Tinghe ruled as regent for thirty-eight days before installing the Shizong Emperor." Gao Gong sighed.

Concealed land was the biggest problem in the survey. In Henan, it was hidden under princely estates; in Sichuan, under native chieftains. Unlike elsewhere, in Sichuan, the Yang family dominated the skies.

"One Yang of Xindu, one Yang of Bozhou—either one rebelling would be enough to shake Sichuan. If they colluded internally and externally, it would be catastrophic. Truly catastrophic." Gao Gong tapped the report.

The Xindu Yang was Yang Yang Tinghe's line; the Bozhou Yang was Yang Yang Yinglong's. Yang Yang Yinglong was the hereditary native chieftain of Bozhou Pacification Commission. Since Yang Duan entered Bozhou in the Ganfu Third Year of the Tang, seventy-four years had passed—thirty generations, each ruling as a state within a state.

The Yanzhou Kong Mansion abused its status as a descendant of the Sage. When the Emperor resolved to eradicate this poison, all he needed was to elevate the Southern Kong line. Henan had many princely houses, and the Emperor was ruthless—he crushed even the mourning of his own kin. But Sichuan's problem was far more delicate.

"The wild Miao of Yunnan, Guizhou, and Sichuan refuse to submit to imperial rule and secretly collude with the Dongyu Mang Yang Yinglong. If the land survey pushes them too hard, it could spark a major uprising." Wang Wang Zhigao murmured in wonder. The wild Miao of Yunnan, Guizhou, and Sichuan were tightly bound—without cause, they still stirred trouble; with cause, they erupted into chaos. Combined with the Three Pacification and Six Comfort Commands, local tensions grew complex and nearly impossible to resolve.

Luzon's situation was nearly identical to Yunnan's, except that Luzon was surrounded by sea, and the Great Ming navy had grown increasingly powerful—hence its relative calm.

"Hard? Hard for Zhang Zhang Juzheng and the Emperor! What's it to us? Hah!" Gao Gong wore an amused expression. He was no longer in office—he was a free cloud, a wild crane, watching Zhang Zhang Juzheng scratch his head.

"True enough. Let them worry." Wang Wang Zhigao smiled too.

When Zhang Zhang Juzheng was at the Yicheng Marquis's villa in Xishan, life was quiet—besides reviewing the newly compiled Great Ming Code, he had no other duties. Now, burdened with state affairs, it was like pressing down one gourd only to see another rise—problem after problem, endless.

Gao Gong turned his teacup, then spoke: "Even now, I still don't trust the Emperor. He lacks endurance. When Zhang Zhang Juzheng is gone, with no one to rein him in, his laziness will return."

"No—you're wrong this time." Wang Wang Zhigao had spent more time with the Emperor. The Emperor loved spectacle. His court sessions at Zhao Wenhua Hall and the imperial gate were merely to watch the Grand Secretaries quarrel. For years, his taste for drama never changed.

"Forget it. Don't talk about this—go further and you'll lose your head." Gao Gong's expression turned grave. "How can Hai Rui be uncovering corrupt officials so fast? Is this still the upright Hai Hai Gangfeng I knew?"

The miscellaneous report listed corrupt officials in long, unbroken rows—fast, precise.

Gao Gong's greatest pride in life had been fighting corruption, but Hai Rui's achievements these past years had already surpassed his.

"I need to tell you about Wang Qian's methods," Wang Wang Zhigao said, holding up both hands. "On one side, he uses his vast wealth to send brokers and agents to test those greedy for profit. On the other, he spreads rumors through matchmakers and gossipers about concubines and mistresses—every tip lands perfectly!"

"These methods—tyrant?" Gao Gong frowned.

"No, no—good official." Wang Wang Zhigao waved his hand.

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(End of Chapter)