Chapter 164

Qiu Defu suddenly knelt on the ground to beg for forgiveness, his knees feeling no pain, for he had long grown accustomed to it.

The Daoists, startled, hesitated a moment, then rose and withdrew one by one, daring not to linger, fearing they would become cannon fodder.

The palace maids and eunuchs knelt in a sea of bowed heads, none daring to lift their eyes.

"Your Majesty, please calm down! The ministers say, say…"

"Say what? Speak plainly."

"The ministers say that Your Majesty has spent three million taels this year alone on palace construction, and with the gardens added, the total is astronomical. No one knows where all that money has gone."

"What do they mean? Do they suspect Your Majesty of falsifying accounts and making empty claims?" Emperor Taixing narrowed his eyes—that was the sign of a man ready to kill.

Qiu Defu's heart pounded violently; he was gambling on an opportunity.

He had long despised Jiang Tu; how could he pass up a chance to undermine him? But this was a double-edged sword—if mishandled, it could easily wound him in return.

He carefully measured his words: "Your Majesty misunderstands. You are a sage ruler on earth; no one could possibly doubt you. The truth is, this year's war in Jinzhou has drained enormous funds—the Ministry of Revenue is already over a thousand taels in deficit. Yet the soldiers' bonuses cannot be withheld. Your Majesty knows well: those frontier troops are all hardheads. Jinzhou cannot withstand another disaster!"

Having finished, Qiu Defu bowed his head, awaiting either fortune's favor or its abandonment.

Emperor Taixing leapt to his feet, barefoot in only cotton socks, pacing the great hall without his shoes. Fortunately, the floor was heated, warm as spring.

With his hands clasped behind his back, Emperor Taixing's brows knotted tightly; his slightly graying hair seemed to bristle like spikes, making him look terrifying, too fearsome to meet directly.

"The ministers are hinting someone has embezzled my silver—why not just name Jiang Tu outright? They've been screaming for his head every day, desperate to destroy him. Today, with news of a great victory reaching the palace, a day of joy, they still refuse to let him rest. Hmph… They pretend to target Jiang Tu, but in truth, they're targeting me."

"I've labored for decades. Is it too much to spend a little on my own pleasures in my old age? After all these years of toil, why can't I spend a bit? They simply cannot bear to see me spend, cannot bear to see me enjoy a few peaceful days. They wish I'd slave away every day until I drop dead—then they could have their way. But I refuse to grant them that."

After ranting this out, Emperor Taixing grew angrier still.

"Go summon Jiang Tu. I have orders for him. Also, tell the two Grand Secretaries to wait—I'll see them shortly."

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

Qiu Defu thought it over carefully, then sighed inwardly—Jiang Tu had escaped another death. That villain's life was too long!

No matter how many accusations he leveled, even if he laid all the evidence before the old emperor, the old emperor still could not bring himself to punish Jiang Tu. If Jiang Tu weren't truly surnamed Jiang, beyond doubt, he'd suspect the man was the emperor's secret illegitimate son left among the common folk.

He was spoiled beyond measure.

There was nothing he could do but endure this little villain. But he had not abandoned the idea of killing Jiang Tu. There could be no second favorite by the emperor's side.

As long as Jiang Tu lived, Qiu Defu could not sleep soundly, always fearing his position would be stolen, that one day Jiang Tu would kill him.

Either Jiang Tu dies, or he dies. There could be no mercy.

Jiang Tu, upon hearing of the great victory in Jinzhou, was filled with dread, worrying about his own future. He feared nothing so much as someone using the victory to whisper poison into the emperor's ear—even if it didn't cost his life, it would be enough to make him sick.

Just as he worried, he learned the old emperor wished to see him. He hurriedly tidied himself, then rushed to the Taiji Palace to pay his respects.

As soon as he arrived, he heard the old emperor roaring inside the hall.

He was puzzled. He asked a familiar eunuch: "It's a day of great victory—why is His Majesty so angry? Who's in there, so bold as to ruin His Majesty's joy on such a day?"

The eunuch, having taken money, glanced around, then whispered: "Let Jiang Da Ren know: the two Grand Secretaries and several ministers are inside, discussing finances."

Jiang Tu instantly understood.

A great military victory was a tremendous blessing. But now came the nightmare: rewarding the troops. Praise alone wouldn't do—it required real silver. The common soldiers deserved at least five taels, up to ten or twenty. Even without corruption, that meant one to two million taels. But with officials lining their pockets along the way, it would swell into an endless pit.

No one understood better than Jiang Tu how dire the court's finances were—he was one of those who dipped his hand in.

No one knew better than he how much the old emperor cared for money, how fiercely he guarded the imperial treasury.

The two Grand Secretaries and the ministers had clearly decided to draw funds from the treasury, striking the old emperor's most sensitive nerve—stepping on his sorest toe. The fact he hadn't killed anyone on the spot already showed remarkable restraint.

Thinking this, Jiang Tu relaxed.

He knew: no matter how many attacked him, no matter how hard they tried to destroy him, the emperor still needed him—needed him to find silver to solve this crisis.

He could once again rest easy.

The tension in his chest lifted. He calmly sat in the side hall, sipping tea, waiting. When the argument in the main hall ended, he would step forward to soothe the emperor and find a way to solve the money problem.

Money? The court was poor—but the whole empire had wealth!

Not long ago, he'd met an official from the Jixia Academy who had ignored him, even mocked him to his face, calling him "Jiang Imperial Consort."

Hmph!

Called him Imperial Consort, did they?

Today, he'd show the Jixia Academy what Jiang Imperial Consort could do.

Jiang Tu bore grudges. He was petty, vengeful, and never let a grudge wait until next year—he repaid every enemy in the same year.

In a short time, he'd already sketched a rough plan: how to whisper accusations, how to secure the emperor's decree, how to drag the Jixia Academy into the mud. All he needed was to refine the details. Once he met the emperor, he'd gauge his mood and act accordingly—this plan would succeed.

The court's intrigues did not touch Chen Guanlou.

He arrived before the Second Young Master's cell: "Your Highness, I bring a momentous piece of news: the Marquis of Pingjiang has defeated the rebels in Jinzhou. The rebels have fled in disarray, and our army is now in hot pursuit. Your Highness's release from Tianlaomiao cannot be far off."

"Won? Hahahaha… I knew it! When the imperial army moves, the Jinzhou rebels are nothing but clay chickens and paper dogs—they stand no chance. Thank you, Chen Tou, for bringing me this good news. When I'm out, I'll treat you to wine."

Chen Guanlou smiled, bowing his head.

Drinking together? Pure nonsense.

A prince of the Wang Fu would never truly invite a lowly jailer to drink.

He smiled and said: "Thank you, Your Highness. Is there anything else Your Highness requires?"