Volume One, Chapter 49: The Crown Prince Is Truly... Too Ruthless!

In the Eastern Palace, the Hall of Grace and Favor.

The candlelight burned brightly, casting the figures of Li Xuan and Xiao Nengshuang onto the wall.

On the writing desk lay two account books. One was a transcript Li Xuan had copied from the Ministry of Revenue, while the other was written from memory by Xiao Nengshuang, based on details gleaned from her father's letters, estimating the grain requirements for the Northern Army.

Xiao Nengshuang furrowed her delicate brows, her jade-white finger tracing slowly across the transcript Li Xuan had brought back, her voice clear and resolute: "This is wrong."

"Oh? What is wrong about it?" Li Xuan looked at her with keen interest.

"Here," Xiao Nengshuang pointed to a specific entry, "it records that two hundred thousand piculs of grain were transported to Jin-yuan City last month. But under my father's command, aside from the fifty thousand standing troops, there are thirty thousand warhorses, not to mention auxiliary soldiers and laborers. The daily consumption for men and horses is immense. Two hundred thousand piculs might seem like a lot, but to sustain them until the autumn harvest arrives, there is still a shortfall of at least forty-five days. Even at the army's bare minimum ration standard, it falls short by nearly one hundred thousand piculs."

She was not guessing; she was stating a fact.

This acute sensitivity to numbers and precise grasp of logistics was an instinct deeply engraved in the bones of a general's daughter.

Li Xuan smiled.

This "wrong" was precisely what he wanted.

"My wife truly is my capable assistant," he praised sincerely. "Indeed, this transcript is fake. Or rather, it is a fabricated account blending truth and falsehood. It records only the grain ostensibly allocated by the imperial court, while deliberately omitting the normal attrition, additional transit provisions, and strategic reserve portions."

"Why would they do such a thing?" Xiao Nengshuang asked, puzzled.

"To forge a 'seamless' account book to deal with me, the 'student' who suddenly came knocking," a glint of wisdom shone in Li Xuan's eyes. "Zhou Ming dared not give me the real one, yet dared not refuse outright, so he had to forge this document overnight. He thought I wouldn't see through the flaws, and even if I did, I wouldn't be able to catch his handle."

"What should we do now then? Take this fake account directly to His Majesty and accuse him?" Xiao Nengshuang asked with a hint of urgency. This matter concerned the safety of her father and hundreds of thousands of soldiers at the northern border; she could not remain as calm as Li Xuan.

"No." Li Xuan shook his head, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk. "If we go now, the evidence is insufficient. Zhou Ming can easily quibble, claiming he only provided a simplified transcript rather than the official accounts. We wouldn't be able to bring him down, and instead, we would startle the snake in the grass, causing them to hide the real evidence even deeper."

"Then..."

"The snake has already poked its head out. What we need to do now is not strike it with a stick, but toss out a more alluring bait to lure it entirely out of its hole." A hunter's smile curved the corners of Li Xuan's mouth.

He picked up the brush and ink and personally drafted a memorial.

This memorial was written with extreme humility and deference. First, he expressed gratitude for the "enthusiastic guidance" of Zhou Ming, Junior Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue. Then, adopting the tone of a student, he listed several "doubts" he had discovered while studying the transcript—namely, the exact problems Xiao Nengshuang had just pointed out.

At the end of the memorial, he wrote: "...Your dull-witted son is completely baffled and fears that his shallow learning has led him to misinterpret the accounts. Yet, as this matter concerns the stability of the frontiers, your son dares not overlook it. He earnestly beseeches Lord Zhang, Minister of the Ministry of Revenue, amidst his busy schedule, to clear up these few points of confusion for your son. Should your son's concerns prove baseless and amount to needless worry, I beg the Honorable Minister to convey my apologies to Junior Vice Minister Zhou, lest misunderstandings create rifts among colleagues."

As Xiao Nengshuang read the memorial, her bright, ice-crystal intelligence allowed her to instantly grasp Li Xuan's intention.

Instead of submitting this memorial directly to the Emperor, he had explicitly addressed it to Zhang Bowen, Minister of the Ministry of Revenue. Zhang Bowen was a veteran minister at court, notoriously protective of his own reputation and strictly non-partisan. This letter from Li Xuan was like a hot potato tossed straight into his lap.

If he chose to ignore it and trouble truly befell the border grain supply later on, the Crown Prince's "early warning" memorial would serve as ironclad proof, and Zhang Bowen would find it difficult to shirk the blame.

If he investigated earnestly, he would inevitably trace the matter back to his subordinate Zhou Ming, thereby implicating the even greater forces lurking behind the scenes.

This seemingly humble request for guidance was, in reality, a bloodless ultimatum.

"You... are trying to force the Minister of Revenue to investigate Zhou Ming?" Xiao Nengshuang asked softly.

"No, I am forcing the person behind Zhou Ming." Li Xuan sealed the memorial and handed it to Jing Yun outside the door. "Do not send this letter to the Ministry of Revenue. Find the safest channel to ensure that the Third Prince, Li Yi, 'sees' it before midnight tonight."

Jing Yun took the letter, his figure flashing and vanishing into the night.

Xiao Nengshuang understood completely.

Li Xuan's true target from the very beginning was neither Zhou Ming nor the Minister of Revenue, but the Third Prince, Li Yi, hiding behind the scenes!

He was telling Li Yi: Your plan is known to me. Now, the ball is in your court; let's see how you return it.

...

The Third Prince's Residence, Study.

Li Yi smashed the teacup in his hand onto the floor, the sound of cracking celadon appearing exceptionally harsh in the silent night.

"Useless trash! Zhou Ming is a piece of trash who ruins more than he accomplishes!" His face was livid, his usual refined and cultured demeanor completely gone, replaced by a violent and sinister ruthlessness.

Wei Yong, the chief strategist, stood to the side, his expression equally grave.

He picked up the "memorial" that Li Yi had crumpled into a ball, read it carefully once more, and knitted his brows tightly.

"Your Highness, the Crown Prince's move is vicious indeed," Wei Yong said in a deep voice. "He never intended to resolve this through normal channels. He is setting a trap, forcing us to make a move."

Li Yi paced back and forth in the study, his eyes venomous. "How much does he know? Is there any news from Liu'er?"

"None." Wei Yong shook his head. "The message Liu'er sent back says that apart from a trip to the General's Mansion, the Crown Prince has spent these past few days in the Eastern Palace accompanying the Crown Princess in fishing and sword practice, showing no abnormalities whatsoever. We all thought he had truly become an idle prince, but who would have thought... he stays his hand until he strikes, but with a single stroke, he has caught us by the throat."

"What do we do now?" Li Yi stopped pacing and stared at Wei Yong. "Once this letter falls into the hands of that old fox Zhang Bowen, he will investigate to the bitter end. By then, all our arrangements will have been for naught!"

A trace of ruthlessness flashed in Wei Yong's eyes. "Your Highness, matters have reached this point; we have no retreat left. Since the Crown Prince wishes to lure the snake from its hole, we might as well burn the hole down entirely!"

"You mean..."

"Strike first to gain the upper hand!" Wei Yong lowered his voice, madness flashing in his eyes. "At Warehouse No. 13 of the Canal Wharf, that batch of 'spoiled rice' we prepared to 'send' to the northern border is still stored there, along with... all the replaced genuine military rations and the original account books. A single fire, burn it all cleanly! We will claim it was an accidental blaze with no evidence left to verify! By then, even if the Crown Prince makes a scene before His Majesty, without evidence, he can do nothing to us!"

Flames of madness ignited in Li Yi's eyes as well.

This was the only way left.

Although a batch of grain would be lost, as long as the evidence was destroyed, the plan to bring down Xiao Yuan could continue.

"Good! Let's do it!" Li Yi slammed his palm onto the desk. "You go and arrange it personally. Make sure it is done cleanly and neatly, leaving no trace of evidence behind!"

"Your Highness can rest assured." Wei Yong bowed, his eyes filled with confidence.

He believed this was a brilliant strategy to break the deadlock.

Little did he know that every step he took was within Li Xuan's calculations.

Midnight, moonless and windy.

The canal wharf was utterly silent, save for the night watchman with his lantern, walking listlessly by.

Near Warehouse No. 13, several dark figures slipped in like ghosts. Their movements were practiced, clearly experts at this trade. They pried open the lock and slipped inside; soon, a faint firelight filtered through the window cracks of the warehouse.

The firelight grew brighter, and thick smoke gradually began to billow.

Several dark figures darted out from the warehouse, wearing smug smiles as they looked at the structure about to burst into roaring flames.

However, the instant they prepared to retreat, a sudden change occurred!

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"

Dozen of fire-oil-soaked arrows rained down from all directions, embedding themselves precisely in the wooden walls and roof of the warehouse! The warehouse, which had merely been smoldering internally, instantly ignited into a blazing inferno that shot into the sky, illuminating the entire wharf as bright as day!

The black-clad men were instantly stunned.

This fire... they hadn't set it!

"Fire! Help put out the fire!"

"Quick! Warehouse No. 13 is on fire!"

Piercing shouts and gongs rang through the night sky.

Following that, an even more blood-curdling sight unfolded before them.

From the surrounding shadows surged over a hundred martial artists dressed in dark fitted garments and wielding sharp blades.

At the lead was Jing Yun. He expressionlessly looked at the dumbfounded black-clad men and coldly spat out a single word:

"Capture them."

Simultaneously, amidst the "desperate firefighting efforts" of another team of men, a heavy iron-plated chest was "rescued" from the sea of fire. The chest was scorched pitch-black, but the heavy lock upon it remained completely intact.

Jing Yun walked up to the chest and tapped it with his scabbard.

"His Highness's calculations are divine. Not only has the snake left its hole, but it has slammed right into the cage."