Chapter 995: Finding Evidence

Shen An finally agreed.

Shen Boxiu immediately went out to find people.

Shen Shukang followed behind.

Shen Boxiu stopped walking and turned to look at him.

Shen Shukang insisted: “Big brother, only I’ve seen her—I can recognize her. Otherwise, Chaoyang City is so big, how will you find her?”

After hesitating, Shen Boxiu said: “Think carefully—you might be among the last to enter the city, or even forced to the front. If there are deaths, those entering the city will die first.”

Shen Shukang: “I’m not afraid. If she’s lying to me, then I deserve to die most.”

Shen Boxiu pressed his lips together, then finally nodded: “Alright. You’re truly my brother—responsible!”

Shen Boxiu put an arm around his shoulder and took him along to search.

In the night, Shen Boxiu fastened his sickle to his waist and led five strong young men and his younger brother toward Chaoyang City.

The group hadn’t even had dinner—they’d just returned from working the fields, their stomachs empty.

Yet they said nothing, walking silently toward Chaoyang City.

After walking over three hours, when they saw the city gate, they sat down on some nearby grass, drank a few sips of water, tightened their belts, pressed together, and closed their eyes to sleep, waiting for dawn.

At this moment, Pan Yun flew over their heads.

She flew straight into the city and landed on a quiet, open street.

She climbed out of the pot, hung the Three Treasures Cauldron, now shrunk to the size of a fist, around her waist, glanced at the silent street, identified the direction, and headed toward her rented courtyard.

The courtyard gate was closed; Pan Yun didn’t even think—she simply leapt over the wall.

She landed soundlessly, walked silently to her door, and was about to push it open when the neighboring door opened.

Xue Shao stood at the threshold, watching her.

Pan Yun raised an eyebrow.

Xue Shao stepped aside; Pan Yun turned and entered his room.

On the bed, Xi Jin was fast asleep, hugging the quilt, unaware of the commotion inside.

On the dining table lay many sheets of paper, ink still wet—clearly, Xue Shao had not slept before Pan Yun returned.

Xue Shao picked up the kettle from the stove in the corner, poured Pan Yun a cup of hot water, then brightened the lamp wick, sat across from her, and asked softly: “How was it?”

The fact that she returned this late meant she had found something.

Pan Yun pulled out the two sheets of paper Shen Shukang had given her, casually placed the dozing Pan Xiaohei on the bed, and covered him with a blanket: “I visited every location marked on the map and traced the trail to Feng Hongde’s three grain warehouses.”

Xue Shao sat up straight upon hearing this: “Grain warehouses?”

“Yes,” Pan Yun exhaled: “Can you imagine? Many military households tilling land can’t even fill their stomachs with thin porridge, yet Feng Hongde, as Battalion Commander of Chaoyang, has private grain stockpiled in three full warehouses. Too bad I couldn’t find the location of the public granary.”

Xue Shao flipped through a pile of ledgers on the table and pulled out one volume, speaking gravely: “This is the official granary ledger for the Chaoyang Battalion Command—this year’s.”

Pan Yun reached out to take it, flipped through it, confirmed its authenticity, and looked at Xue Shao in surprise: “Where did you get this?” “Stolen.”

Pan Yun: “Wait—you went into Feng’s villa, right? You stole this secret document in just one day?”

Xue Shao said: “Feng Hongde likes me very much. Tonight’s dinner was at the Feng residence. I not only entered Feng Hongde’s study but also went to the Battalion Command’s official office. I saw this ledger on the desk—it was stolen by the Embroidered Uniform Guard who accompanied me.”

Pan Yun: “Did the Embroidered Uniform Guard follow you?”

Xue Shao grunted: “I had them contact the Guangdong Regional Military Commissioner’s Office. I’m sure Cao Rong will send someone soon.”

Cao Rong was the Guangdong Regional Military Commissioner.

Pan Yun: “Feng Hongde has ruled Chaoyang with tyranny for nearly twenty years—do you think the Guangdong Regional Military Commissioner’s Office knows?”

“Whether they know or not, the matter must go through them,” Xue Shao said. “I will uncover the truth. The Embroidered Uniform Guard won’t let a single corrupt worm escape.”

Pan Yun’s lips curled slightly as she glanced at his half-written memorial: “Is this your first military case, personally uncovered?”

“Yes,” Xue Shao said: “Due to the delicate relations among civil and military officials in the court, especially after last year’s personal campaign—Kuang Ye led the Datong army to guard the border, while Wang Ji, a civil examination graduate, was ennobled for military merit. The military aristocracy and generals are deeply dissatisfied. Last year’s campaign stabilized the situation, but the army suffered defeat, causing the late emperor’s death and shattering the generals’ prestige. Empress Dowager Sun has repeatedly rebuked the generals. Meanwhile, you and the emperor began administrative reforms by targeting the military first. If I forcefully intervene now, I fear it will drive them to unite in deception, backfiring entirely.”

Thus, Xue Shao’s consistent stance has been: the Five Military Directorates should first order all Regional Military Commissioner’s Offices to conduct self-audits, while the Censorate, Eastern Depot, and Dalisi form a tripartite inspection team to fill gaps.

This gives the military time to respond without escalating tensions.

Pan Yun: “Clearly, Cao Rong failed to seize the opportunity and time window you gave him.”

Xue Shao said coldly: “Then he deserves to die.”

He deserves to die—but he cannot die.

The Guangdong Regional Military Commissioner is a high-ranking frontier official. Executing him might serve as a warning, but it could also backfire, uniting the “monkeys” into a solid front and clashing violently with the blade.

Right now is a crucial moment for the Great Ming’s economic development. They must eliminate corruption, but the court’s problems are not confined to the military.

Pan Yun said: “I chose to start with the military because, compared to local administration, the military’s condition is slightly less dire; second, future reforms will rely heavily on the military—it is the Great Ming’s safeguard.”

“Whoever controls the military wins,” Pan Yun sneered. “Once the military is reorganized, when we move to reform the regions, no matter what demons or monsters appear, those who obey will be punished lightly; those who resist will be crushed.”

Thus, she intends to reorganize the military—not to place civil officials above military officers and return the Great Ming to the Song dynasty’s state where civil officials commanded generals.

She believes the emperor shares this intent.

Her proposal to assign Kuang Ye to guard Datong was because Kuang Ye himself had the ability, and none of the military aristocrats surrounding him could change Datong’s situation.

Selection of talent must not be based on whether someone is a civil official—what matters is personal will and capability.

The two successive emperors’ appointments of Wang Ji confirm this.

Before Wang Ji, Zhu Qizhen also used generals in the Luchuan campaign, but they lost.

Should we refuse to use Wang Ji simply because he is a civil official, despite knowing he can win?

Pan Yun closed her eyes, still deciding to judge by the person: “After meeting Cao Rong, we’ll decide whether to protect him. If he is utterly corrupt, we’ll find another way to appease the military aristocracy and generals.”

She simply cannot tolerate stupid, evil people polluting the air and hearts of this world.

Xue Shao smiled slightly and nodded: “Alright. If he is utterly corrupt, we’ll find another way.”