Chapter 437

The Great Ming King, steadfast and unwavering, tried to trick Chen Guanlou onto his pirate ship.

Chen Guanlou hated most of all being taken advantage of—especially in a capital offense.

He ordered his subordinates to cut Great Ming King's rations in half and let him starve first. If that didn't work, feed him spoiled rice and give him swill to drink.

Dealing with prisoners was second nature to the jailers.

They had long resented Great Ming King; had their superiors not forbidden it, they would have already given him the full "Proper Imprisonment" package the moment he was locked in Tianlaomiao.

Now that Chen Yuli had spoken, the jailers readily agreed, promising to complete the task.

Chen Guanlou, watching the jailers' high spirits, had to remind them: "Don't kill him. If he dies, you all die with him."

"Don't worry, Chen Yuli, he won't die."

"We'll make sure he lives until next spring."

"If anything happens, send the fastest runner to fetch Dr. Mu."

Chen Guanlou left, reassured.

……

Taiji Palace.

The old emperor was refining elixirs. Of course, he mainly observed; someone else did the actual refining.

Strangely, Prince Zhong stood by, replacing Qiu Defu's position.

"Third son, will this batch of elixirs succeed?"

"Your Majesty's heavenly fortune ensures success."

"Don't just say lucky words."

"Your servant speaks nothing but truth. Your Majesty is omnipotent. Such elixirs are trivial."

"Hahahaha…"

The old emperor, in high spirits, patted Prince Zhong on the shoulder.

Prince Zhong put on an expression of profound emotion, tears welling up, about to spill.

"Don't cry! What are you crying for? Watch this elixir for me while I rest."

"Your Majesty has labored all day. Your son will watch over it. Rest assured."

"Hmm. You're a good son."

The old emperor smiled as he left the side hall and returned to the main hall.

Qiu Defu, with the eunuchs, brought tea and snacks, then asked softly: "Your Majesty, shall you review the memorials?"

"Any urgent matters?"

"The usual: ice disasters, snow disasters, demands for money. Both northern and southern frontlines are pressing for grain and winter clothing."

At this, the old emperor's face darkened instantly; his mood soured.

"Money, money, money—all year long they beg me for money. Clearly, the Ministry of Revenue needs new men. They're utterly incompetent."

"Your Majesty speaks wisely. But whom should we replace?" Qiu Defu asked cautiously.

The old emperor pondered, then suddenly changed the subject: "How is Chen Guanfu doing in the Ministry of Public Works? Has he clashed with Jiang Tu?"

"Your Majesty, Prince Chen has been in office too short a time to have any conflict with Minister Jiang."

"Have they met?"

"They have."

"They can coexist peacefully?" The old emperor was astonished. "What is Jiang Tu good for? Useless. Go… no, summon him. I'll question him myself—how does he serve? The garden isn't finished, no money has appeared. What use is he?"

Qiu Defu understood perfectly: the old emperor was venting his anger. But inwardly, he was delighted. He hoped the old emperor would turn his rage on Jiang Tu, even kill him. If not death, then at least suffering—ideally, to cut off his allies.

The old emperor's mood swung unpredictably.

When Jiang Tu hurried to Taiji Palace to meet the emperor, the old man sat scowling at the memorials on his desk—always begging for money, always complaining, never a single omen of good fortune.

It infuriated him!

"Jiang Tu, do you know your crime?"

Jiang Tu froze in shock. "Your servant does not know what crime he has committed. Please, Your Majesty, clarify."

"Where is the money? Where has my money gone? Why is my treasury shrinking?"

This… this…

Jiang Tu felt deeply wronged.

"Innocent, Your Majesty! It's the Ministry of Revenue! Entirely their fault! They've drained Your Majesty's treasury. Your servant is blameless! The Ministry of Revenue is utterly incompetent—whenever trouble arises, they fixate on Your Majesty's private funds. Please punish them severely!"

"If I appointed you to the Ministry of Revenue, could you solve the money shortage?"

"This…"

"What do you mean 'this'? Can you or can't you?"

"If Your Majesty permits me to raise taxes, the problem should be manageable."

"Raise taxes? All you know is raising taxes. You raised them two years ago, and now again? No. We cannot raise taxes so soon a second time."

The old emperor, once wise, knew the consequences of frequent tax hikes.

"If not taxes, do you have another solution?"

"Your servant cannot think of any."

"Worthless!" The old emperor flew into a rage, overturning the entire desk of memorials and hurling them at Jiang Tu's head. Still not satisfied, he descended the dais and kicked Jiang Tu over.

Jiang Tu rolled with the blow, clutching his chest as he knelt to beg forgiveness.

This was the fate of a sycophant: when the emperor was displeased, he was either scolded, beaten, or kicked. A proper minister? The old emperor would never dare lay a hand on him.

Those were officials selected through the imperial examinations—how could they be insulted so freely? Even scolding required refined language. Physical violence was unthinkable.

If he struck today, tomorrow his reputation would be ruined—every scholar in the realm would know the emperor disrespected scholars, disrespected his subjects.

Then what courtesy remained?

Just curse the emperor to death.

A legacy of eternal infamy.

Only Jiang Tu, a sycophant who rose through flattery, could be abused like this—and the ministers would still say: "Good riddance!"

Jiang Tu knew his place well. No matter why the emperor flew into a rage, all he had to do was beg forgiveness. As long as he wasn't killed, tomorrow he'd still be the arrogant Minister Jiang, unchallenged by anyone.

"You can't raise money, and you can't even do your job. What use are you?"

Enraged, the old emperor reached for the sword on the wall—he'd kill him outright.

"Your Majesty, please calm down!" Jiang Tu lunged, grabbing the emperor's leg. "Your servant knows his crime! I've heard something: Chen Guanfu is smuggling goods to the northwest!"

"Oh?" The old emperor raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Many smuggle to the frontier. One more won't matter. What use is this information?"

"I've also heard there are prohibited items involved. Your Majesty could send the Embroidered Uniform Guard to investigate secretly—they'll find something."

"Prohibited items? Hmph…" The old emperor seemed indifferent, as if he already knew everything. "You're only good for this. Worthless!"

Jiang Tu felt wronged. How was he worthless?

His strength was raising money, not gathering intelligence.

He'd exhausted himself and spent a fortune just to uncover this.

Qiu Defu silently shook his head. Jiang Tu had completely misunderstood. The emperor didn't need him to spy—the Embroidered Uniform Guard existed for that. Why use Jiang Tu?

Hmph!

No wonder the emperor called him worthless—he truly was.

"You can't even handle a small matter. What else are you but worthless? When did I ever order you to spy on Chen Guanfu? Do you think I need you to investigate him? Fool!"

These nobles—the emperor understood them better than anyone. He'd dealt with them for years. Jiang Tu had utterly failed to grasp his intent.