Rain came suddenly and stopped just as abruptly. Liang Cuishan’s boots were splattered with mud as he strode quickly into the office, lifting his robes to avoid the filth. The officials waiting in the Ministry of Revenue’s workroom were already standing in full readiness.
He listened to the rain outside cut off without warning, then took out a handkerchief to wipe away the thin sheen of sweat on his face. Without wasting words, he said, “Begin the calculation.”
At once, the sound of abacuses being moved erupted inside the room like crackling fire. It was as if the sudden downpour had resumed—only now it was falling within the chamber itself.
Liang Cuishan held the cabinet’s sealed order in his arms as he sat in the grand chair. He reopened the stacked Eight Cities account books and bent his head to recompute everything. His mental arithmetic was exceptional and he was familiar with taxation systems, so his review was swift. Still, for caution, an abacus and brush were placed beside him.
The “rain” in the Ministry of Revenue’s office did not stop all night. Only servants came and went, bringing strong tea to keep everyone alert. Amid the noise, however, the Empress Dowager did not sleep either.
Inside her palace, incense curled upward in thin threads. She turned Buddhist prayer beads slowly between her fingers, reclining on a couch while Lady Liuxiang massaged her legs. There was no one else present. She had removed her pearl ornaments, and her closed eyes carried a faint weariness.
“The Commander of the Imperial Guard has already coordinated with Fu Man,” Lady Liuxiang said softly to comfort her. “There should be movement on the Crown Prince’s side.”
The Empress Dowager opened her eyes slightly. “During today’s discussion in Mingli Hall, the Crown Prince also spoke. I see Kong Bolan is beginning to soften toward her. He almost treats her like a student.”
“It’s all because Xue Yanqing has been manipulating things,” Lady Liuxiang replied as she massaged steadily. “She was raised outside the palace—what could she possibly know about governance?”
“She lacks judgment, lacks proper measure. Even if she wants to interfere in court affairs, she must have the ability first. Qi Zhuyin refused me today only because she believes Xue Xiuzhuo still has a way out. They are now urgently calculating grain reserves from the Eight Cities—let them calculate,” the Empress Dowager said, studying the Buddhist beads in her hand.
The lamps dimmed slightly. Her expression remained composed, without the slightest trace of panic.
Liang Cuishan grew increasingly alarmed as he calculated. Amid the chaotic sound of beads clicking, he repeatedly recalculated the accounts. The result matched his mental estimation exactly: after the Ministry of Revenue’s recheck, Dancheng’s granary records showed no discrepancies. Based on these figures, the Eight Cities appeared to be the most well-stocked granary in the entire Great Zhou.
How could that be?
He pushed the abacus aside and stood up again, wiping his sweat once more.
Pan Lin leaned back in his chair, his face illuminated pale by candlelight. Having been imprisoned for days, his disheveled robes bore witness to his humiliation. He forced himself to stay awake, his exhausted eyes fixed on Xue Xiuzhuo.
“When you inspected the Eight Cities’ land tax at the beginning of the year, you already knew their grain situation,” Xue Xiuzhuo said. He rubbed his eyes with a damp cloth, trying to clear his fatigue. “The Eight Cities granaries have already been emptied, haven’t they?”
Pan Lin answered with silence.
“Chengzhi,” Xue Xiuzhuo called him by his courtesy name. “You let go of Yao Yuanjue because you still had conscience. You are not like Wei Huaigu. Then why continue to serve them against your better judgment? Dancheng had already seen countless deaths from starvation last year. If land surveys are not corrected and returned to the people, there will be just as many deaths next year.”
Pan Lin swallowed, lifting his head slightly to stare at the dark ceiling.
“Qi Zhuyin has repeatedly come to the capital for military provisions. Qidong’s garrison cannot yet deploy. The Twelve Border Tribes have already reached the frontier prefectures,” Xue Xiuzhuo continued, his bloodshot eyes showing strain. “Chengzhi, I need grain.”
A moth flew in from somewhere and landed on the window, resting briefly in silence before fluttering back into the night. It drifted through darkness, brushing past a speeding carriage.
The carriage stopped in front of the estate, and Hongying lifted the curtain. Hua Xiangyi jumped down immediately.
“Madam—”
Holding up her skirt, she ran the moment she entered the gate. Her hairpins trembled violently, pearls swaying as she rushed through corridors and courtyards without regard for the startled cries around her. She ran straight into Qi Zhuyin’s residence.
Qi Wei was speaking with attendants when he suddenly saw her. Startled, he thought it was an assassin and shouted, “Protect the Great Marshal!”
Guards instantly drew their blades. Cold steel flashed under moonlight, contrasting with the trembling pearls in Hua Xiangyi’s hair.
The moment Qi Zhuyin opened the door, she was met with a scatter of light as Hua Xiangyi crashed into her courtyard. Breathless, sweating lightly, Hua Xiangyi clutched her skirt and spoke in haste:
“The Dancheng granary is empty. No matter what the Ministry of Revenue’s recheck says—everything is a deception.”
Qi Zhuyin caught the fallen hairpin and handed it back to her, then looked toward Qi Wei.
Qi Wei immediately retreated and went to report to Liang Cuishan.
It was already near the third watch of the night. By the second hour of the tiger watch, officials would begin assembling outside the palace gates. At dawn, court sessions would begin. There was no time to waste.
In the prison cell, Pan Lin had fallen into complete silence after Xue Xiuzhuo’s words. A man of learning, he could not meet Xue Xiuzhuo’s gaze. Instead, he stared at the ceiling, at its decayed beams and worm-eaten wood exposed beneath old, unpainted layers. It was rotting through and through.
He felt wind inside a sealed room.
Counting those insect holes in his mind, he slowly wore himself down into stillness. He understood that Xue Xiuzhuo might be performing, yet he also knew every word spoken was true.
After a long silence, he finally turned and asked, “Why did you kill Yuanjue?”
Xue Xiuzhuo leaned back in his chair and met his gaze directly.
“You supported the Li imperial line. So did Hai Ge Lao. Together you placed Tianchen Emperor on the throne and replaced Hua Siqian,” Pan Lin said hoarsely. “But you also killed Tianchen Emperor for the Crown Prince… Xue Yanqing, I cannot tell whether you are loyal or treacherous.”
Xue Xiuzhuo replied, “I killed Yao Yuanjue because he had to die.”
He spoke plainly, exhausted but unflinching.
“The aristocratic families still believe this court belongs to them. But since the final years of the Yongyi era, they have already lost control of this carriage. Look at your father—if the families were truly powerful, why would he have been forced to balance between nobles and commoners?”
His finger pointed downward.
“During the Zhongbo defeat in the Xian De era, I learned something: the aristocratic families were not only infiltrating Great Zhou—they were also being infiltrated. Hua Siqian thought he could outplay Amur from the east, but in truth he was nothing more than a chained hound. And the most laughable part is that even in death, he believed he was the one holding the leash.”
He continued:
“Libei has become a wolf pack, no longer under the Li imperial command. They call themselves iron walls, but they also block Que Du from the north. If not for Empress Dowager’s misrule, Emperor Guangcheng would have already dismantled them. But now they are independent armies. Trust alone cannot control such forces—only balance and constraint can.”
The truth is simple: no empire this large can rely on loyalty alone.
“So I killed Yao Yuanjue because he was becoming uncontrollable. If I let him live, he would be used by others.”
He leaned forward slightly.
“I am neither loyal nor treacherous.”
When Pan Lin was taken away, he finally spoke again in a dull voice:
“You are beyond what ordinary men can accept. As you said yourself—this is a world of balance and constraint. What, then, do you have that can restrain the Crown Prince?”
Xue Xiuzhuo did not answer.
He simply turned and left.
The prison door creaked shut behind him, leaving Pan Lin alone in the dim cell. A faint strip of dawn light entered through the narrow window—but did not fall upon him.
Pan Lin had done all he could.
Pan Xiangjie rummaged through boxes and overturned everything in search of account books. Those old volumes buried at the bottom were evidence that could destroy him. He had woken up to rumors and was trying to burn everything before Xue Xiuzhuo arrived.
The Yongyi years, the Xiande years, the Tianchen years.
Pan Xiangjie neatly tied up the ledgers and knelt before the chest, tearing the bindings apart with his bare hands before throwing all the account books into a bronze basin.
There was too much—far more than he could burn alone.
Pan Xiangjie’s mouth went sour with panic. He had never imagined the breach would come from his own son. He had been pushed to a dead end—he could not simply give up now.
“The Yongyi years…” Pan Xiangjie traced the entries with his fingers. “The Hua family… the Han clan…”
They were all here. Pan Xiangjie felt a surge of wild joy—so long as they were all implicated, the Pan family would not fall alone. Suddenly, the sound of military boots running burst into the courtyard. He clutched the account books tightly, supporting himself on the chest as he staggered to the door.
It was Han Cheng.
Pan Xiangjie forced himself to stay calm, hiding his hands in his wide sleeves. “It hasn’t reached that point yet. Has the Empress Dowager already lost patience? Abandoning pawns to save the king is not a wise move. Xue Xiuzhuo is at odds with all the aristocratic families—if you cut down my Pan clan today, none of you will escape either.”
Pan Xiangjie had spent his life pretending to be muddle-headed, following Hua Siheng and Wei Huaigu like a coward, kneeling and pleading in court. Yet now his words were clear and sharp.
Han Cheng rested a hand on his sword. “If you surrender now, you can at least leave some breathing room for the others. Who would not remember your favor? I will ensure your direct line survives. You may rebuild in the future.”
The blade of his sword drew closer step by step. Pan Xiangjie shouted, “If you kill me today, you will only force Xue Xiuzhuo to act faster! With Dan City gone, how many days can Duan City hold out?”
“Enough nonsense!” Han Cheng was also sweating. He raised his hand and ordered, “The Empress Dowager already knew you would leave yourself a retreat. This ledger is a mess—but you remember it clearly enough. Burn this courtyard!”
Pan Xiangjie clung to the doorway, hearing his family members crying inside. “These records—Xiangzhi already had them copied by Chengzhi! Burn them if you dare! Even if you kill me now, the accounts will still reach Xue Xiuzhuo!”
“Pan Lin’s treason is already confirmed,” Han Cheng drew his blade. “Didn’t he secretly release Yao Yuanqian? Yao Yuanqian is now a strategist for Shen Zechuan! Your Pan family colluding with traitors is proven. How credible are his words? He is nothing but a spy Shen Zechuan planted in the capital!”
Pan Xiangjie fell to the ground in the struggle and shouted hoarsely, “A rabbit dies and the hound is cooked! A bird is gone and the bow is discarded! I served you like a dog, and this is my end! Han Cheng, if I die today, how long can you survive?”
Han Cheng raised his sword to strike.
At that moment, Qi Wei moved faster. He did not take the corridor but leapt directly from the roof, crashing down and throwing Han Cheng aside in a violent grapple.
Pan Xiangjie seized the chance, lifting the account books and crying out toward the courtyard entrance, “Save me, Great General!”
Han Cheng struggled and threw out the Eight Great Army token, shouting, “This is the capital! The Imperial Army holds authority! Qi Zhuyin’s forces are stationed outside the city—how dare you interfere with the Eight Great Army’s operations?”
“I request the Great General to apprehend criminals. With both the Ministry of Justice warrant and the Ministry of War orders, why would it not be allowed?” Xue Xiuzhuo swept aside his robe and said sharply, “Put out the fire and arrest them all—including Han Cheng!”
Han Cheng shouted, “I am acting under the Empress Dowager’s decree! How dare you!”
The Eight Great Army immediately drew their blades and pressed forward.
Qi Zhuyin used her scabbard to push aside the blades from behind and said, “If the Eight Great Army belongs to the capital, then it belongs to the Crown. The Crown Prince summoned me to assist in this investigation—yet you insist on obeying the Empress Dowager instead?”
Han Cheng’s confidence faltered. He had believed Pan Xiangjie was bluffing, but Qi Zhuyin had truly arrived. If he killed before Xue Xiuzhuo arrived, relying on the Eight Great Army, he could still intimidate the court—but now Qi Zhuyin’s troops were outside the city. A real conflict would leave him at a disadvantage.
He gritted his teeth. “Naturally… I will follow the Crown Prince’s arrangements.”
The Eight Great Army sheathed their weapons as Qi Zhuyin’s soldiers entered and arrested Pan Xiangjie and Han Cheng. The fire was quickly extinguished. Xue Xiuzhuo swept away the smoke and picked up the unfinished account books.
—
The Empress Dowager was stunned upon hearing the news that Xue Xiuzhuo had taken the accounts. She collapsed onto her couch, her brows tightly furrowed.
“Pan Xiangjie that damned fool!”
He had dragged everyone down just to survive.
“Where is the Crown Prince?” the Empress Dowager said, regaining her composure. “Good. Xue Xiuzhuo wants to break with me completely? Then let him see whether his so-called ‘legitimate ruler’ is strong enough.”
She removed her prayer beads and threw them into a brazier, sending up a cloud of ash.
—
Han Cheng, once captured, simply closed his eyes and pretended to sleep, refusing to speak. He believed Xue Xiuzhuo would not dare touch him. Pan Xiangjie returned to his old self, sobbing as he sat across the table.
“Confess… I’ll confess…” he wiped his tears. “But let me eat first, Xiuzhuo. I’m starving.”
He was clearly stalling for time, waiting for the Empress Dowager to rescue him.
Liang Cuishan, though in charge of taxation, had seen such interrogations before. After a night of exhaustion, he took a sip of strong tea and, with Xue Xiuzhuo’s silent approval, said, “Even boiling noodles takes time. Take your time speaking, my lord.”
Pan Xiangjie looked at Liang Cuishan and sighed. “I know you, Cui Shen… I’ve known you and Chengzhi for years.”
He touched his stomach pitifully. “I can’t go hungry. My mind gets muddled.”
“I wouldn’t trouble you, my lord,” Liang Cuishan said calmly. “Just answer my question. I checked Dan City’s grain accounts yesterday—the warehouses were full. Tell me, did you purchase grain from elsewhere before the Ministry’s inspection to falsify the records?”
“I don’t care about grain,” Pan Xiangjie said innocently, spreading his hands. “I handle the Ministry of Works. Ask Dan City’s grain supervisor, or Pan Yi.”
“I already did,” Liang Cuishan flipped the ledger open. “They’ve confessed. The grain was sold to Cheng He. Dan City sold it—did the other seven cities as well?”
“I don’t even understand Dan City’s accounts—how would I know the others?” Pan Xiangjie said quickly. “If they’ve confessed, submit it to the Grand Secretariat. Let the Grand Minister see it too.”
Xue Xiuzhuo said, “It has already been submitted before dawn for the morning court session.”
Pan Xiangjie froze.
Liang Cuishan produced a warrant from his sleeve. “Otherwise, how would we have brought you here? Everything is according to law. The Ministry of Justice has approved it.”
Pan Xiangjie stared at the warrant for a long moment.
Xue Xiuzhuo leaned closer. “My lord has served in the Ministry of Works. During the Xiande years, the irrigation canals were well built—you are someone who does real work. I am not targeting you personally. If we clarify the accounts, there is still room for leniency.”
Pan Xiangjie sobbed, “I truly don’t know.”
Xue Xiuzhuo said coldly, “Then Dan City must be your Pan family’s private domain. You concealed the truth from the court, colluded with Pan Lin of the Ministry of Revenue to falsify land taxes, and sold state grain to the merchant Cheng He, causing countless deaths. This is all your Pan family’s doing.”
Pan Xiangjie’s face went pale.
“Ledgers, confessions—all will be submitted to the Grand Secretariat,” Xue Xiuzhuo continued. “Such corrupt officials deserve confiscation of property and execution of their entire clan.”
“It’s not finished yet!” Pan Xiangjie cried, standing up. “Xiuzhuo! Let’s talk this through!”
At that moment, the prison door suddenly opened. A eunuch rushed in, breathless and kneeling.
“My lords! The Crown Prince collapsed before ascending the court! The Grand Minister has already summoned physicians—he is still…”
Just one step away.
Xue Xiuzhuo’s hands went cold. The account books in his grip were soaked with sweat. Pan Xiuzhuo immediately fell silent and sat back down.
A fatal blow aimed at the weak point—truly, the Empress Dowager was formidable.
Xue Xiuzhuo slammed the account books down and said through clenched teeth:
“Enter the palace.”