The Crown Prince was in good spirits.

On his return to the Eastern Palace, Xian Jing and the other officials of the Steward’s Bureau were waiting for him. This was the Eastern Palace’s daily routine: on ordinary days, the Crown Prince attended morning court, and upon returning, he held a small meeting with his own subordinate officials — a shadow of court proceedings, revisited and discussed. This was a standard practice for Crown Princes once they had reached a certain age; it was part of his formation.

Now that the emperor was unwell, the Crown Prince still visited the emperor every day, and then returned to hold his small meeting.

On the days when morning court was held, officials of sufficient rank — including Xian Jing — were able to attend. Once the emperor stopped attending court, seeing anyone at all depended entirely on the emperor’s mood, and everyone had to wait for the Crown Prince to return.

Today the Crown Prince returned a little later than usual. Xian Jing, anxious that something might have gone wrong, had been craning his neck to look out for him.

Once the Crown Prince arrived and everyone was seated in the hall with the Crown Prince in the principal seat, Xian Jing asked, “Your Highness, what delayed you today?”

The Crown Prince said with a slight smile, “A minor matter. I am going out of the palace tomorrow morning.”

“Again?!” Xian Jing’s voice involuntarily shot upward.

The Crown Prince said, “What are you thinking? This time it is by His Majesty’s express command. I am first to inspect the grain stores with Minister Zhù of the Ministry of Revenue, then to look into the state of the capital’s order with Prefect Chen.”

Xian Jing said, “The Ministry of Revenue? The grain stores?”

He had served in the Ministry of Revenue himself, and he questioned the Crown Prince further about what the problem with the stores was. The Crown Prince said, “Some old business from years past.”

Xian Jing grew more anxious than before and asked to accompany the Crown Prince tomorrow with some of the Eastern Palace officials. “I once served in the Ministry of Revenue — perhaps I might be of some assistance.”

The Crown Prince smiled. “Your services are not needed this time, Steward — the destination is somewhat far off. Have the left and right guard offices send men along. You remain in the Eastern Palace, in case His Majesty has questions.”

The Tutor, Mentor, Protector, and Deputy of the Eastern Palace were not ordinarily in residence; the Steward remaining to hold down the fort was not a duty that could be refused. Xian Jing could only agree. The left and right guard offices received their orders, first going to the Ministry of Revenue to learn the address and then coordinating the route with the capital prefecture to guarantee the Crown Prince’s safety. The Crown Prince’s previous excursion out of the palace had left them seething with bottled-up frustration as well.

The Crown Prince had exercised a small piece of cunning. He deliberately did not tell Zhù Ying what Xian Jing had taught him, and he would not let Xian Jing come along to watch Zhù Ying work with him. He wanted to compare the two — to see if their accounts differed, and perhaps, from the comparison, perceive something deeper.

With this intention in mind, the following morning he gave the emperor a brief report on the parts of Zhù Ying’s official memorandum he had memorized, then changed into plain clothes and set out to accompany Zhù Ying outside the palace.

——

Zhù Ying was still in her purple official robes, for today they were first dealing with the grain storage matter and had to begin at the warehouse. She needed this uniform to preside over proceedings.

Though Xiang Le had already investigated the general situation thoroughly, the formality still needed to be observed. And this pretense had to be maintained throughout — it was the excuse that would allow her to bring the Crown Prince to the outer city and to remote areas, where he would happen to pass certain impoverished households. In the process, she would also let the Crown Prince see something of the capital’s powerful families and their abuses.

Zhù Ying brought several Ministry of Revenue officials and clerks with her, and Xiang Le, as Zhù Ying’s trusted aide, had the opportunity to come along as well.

The Crown Prince too was surrounded by his guards, the Eastern Palace being a miniature court in its own right, its structure a reduced replica of the court at large. His guards belonged to the great “Imperial Guards” system as a whole, though they had their own particular designation.

The Crown Prince brought a modest retinue this time — thirty people in all, every one of them in gleaming armor. The two officers at the head were both known to Zhù Ying. One of them was Chai Ling’yuan’s younger brother, Chai Lingcheng — also Zheng Xi’s nephew. He was very young, the youngest of Chai Ling’yuan’s siblings. When Chai Ling’yuan had run into trouble and been unable to return for a time, his mother had appealed to Zheng Xi, who had no choice but to arrange a position for Chai Lingcheng as a temporary measure, to comfort the mother of both sons.

Zhù Ying said, “We are heading outside the city to meet up with Prefect Chen. The warehouse falls within his jurisdiction.”

“Very well.”

Once outside the palace city, Chen Meng was already waiting with a group of his constables.

After the two parties greeted one another, Chen Meng said, “The location is a fair distance from the city — we’ll need to move quickly, or we’ll miss the midday meal.”

The Crown Prince said with a laugh, “Then we can eat wherever we happen to be along the road — we’re out of the palace, no need to stand on ceremony.”

Chen Meng had no interest in pleasantries. “Very well,” he said flatly. He made a gesture to those behind him, and constables immediately rode ahead out of the city to prepare the way along the route — for the Crown Prince’s excursion, preparations could hardly be neglected: security and provisions both needed to be in place.

Unless the Crown Prince slipped out by himself to play.

The party left the city. Chen Meng began by pointing out the sights and features of the capital along the way, and the Crown Prince said with a laugh, “I lived in the capital for many years before moving into the palace — yet these past few years inside, I’ve seen so little of it.”

Zhù Ying thought to herself: have you not noticed that the capital’s order is far better maintained than it used to be?

She thought further: what would the security of the capital have to do with a commandery prince’s heir? Its deterioration would never have reached his door.

Once outside the city, they could see faint traces of gold beginning to touch the fields. Their party did not stop here; they rested once along the way, refreshing themselves with food and water that Chen Meng had already arranged. Zhù Ying paid quiet attention to Chai Lingcheng along the route and found his expression bright with curiosity — entirely befitting a young man his age.

Near midday, they arrived at the grain storage site. The granaries of the court were enormous in scale, and the individual storage pits were vast beyond imagining.

The Crown Prince and his retinue exclaimed in wonder.

Odd to think about, really — the Crown Prince regularly inspected his own treasury in the Eastern Palace, familiar with goods, silks, gold and silver. But he had never once set eyes on a granary.

After a hasty look around, it was time for the midday meal. The Crown Prince had said he would not stand on ceremony while outside, but the Ministry of Revenue and the capital prefecture had still jointly prepared food and drink for him alongside the Eastern Palace’s own provision. Chen Meng and Zhù Ying dined with the Crown Prince, and as they ate, Zhù Ying had Xiang Le give the Crown Prince an introduction to various matters.

The Crown Prince listened as Xiang Le explained how many granaries there were, how much grain each could hold, how it was stored, from where it was transported, how it was preserved — all of it matched what Xian Jing had taught him. This portion held no surprises.

The real difference came after the meal.

Zhù Ying took him on a thorough tour of the granary buildings. From the outside, many of the warehouses looked exactly alike, all of them full and packed tight. Zhù Ying had no hesitation in taking him around each one, not on horseback, beginning from the most basic point of entry into the store. She walked him through the entire process step by step, and the Crown Prince, with the assistance of his attendants, went through it all in earnest.

Afterward he asked, “So — how exactly did they work the switch?”

Zhù Ying sighed. Without hands-on involvement, it would be the same regardless of who was teaching him. But if the time spent was too short, it was difficult to ever uncover the real workings beneath the surface. Unless he could come here and spend three solid months as an anonymous minor functionary, all of it would remain superficial.

“Your Highness has been here for half a day. What if you were here for a month? A year? Three years? Five years?”

“What do you mean?”

Zhù Ying did not answer. Instead she raised a different question. “This one pit Your Highness is looking at — how large would you say it is?”

With such a colossal structure before him, the Crown Prince nodded. “Immense.”

“Only five thousand shi. When the Prince of Qi established his residence, what was disbursed to him in a single allotment exceeded this amount.” Zhù Ying said.

When the Prince of Qi established his residence, he needed to pay grain stipends to his officials and attendants, to supply rations to servants, and still have reserves kept aside for himself. And that was only what the Ministry of Revenue officially disbursed.

Zhù Ying took up a large measuring scoop nearby, scooped out a little less than a full measure of wheat grain and held it up for the Crown Prince to see. “This is one dou.” She pressed the scoop into the Crown Prince’s hands and let him try it himself.

The Crown Prince was puzzled. “And then?”

Zhù Ying said, “These next few days, you must find the answer yourself. Your Highness, simply take it in. Try moving some of it.”

The Crown Prince began to work, and his attendants could not stand idle either. They took up baskets, reached for measures, and before long were laughing as they scattered grain everywhere, trampling it underfoot without a second thought — as though they had found a new toy. The attendants in Zhù Ying’s party could barely conceal their distress — such waste of grain!

Chen Meng finally could bear it no longer. He cleared his throat. “This is all tax grain collected from the court — do not waste it.”

He and Zhù Ying exchanged a glance.

Zhù Ying said, “The day is not young — let us come back tomorrow.”

The Crown Prince did not understand her meaning, and Zhù Ying said, “It is no matter. Come several more times, look more carefully. Your Highness — some things cannot be explained in words. They must be experienced for oneself.”

After this, Zhù Ying brought the Crown Prince to the grain stores for several days in a row. During this time, the grain storage case had already been fully investigated and resolved. The offenders, their methods, and the entire sequence of events had been laid out clearly, all documents written up. The techniques involved were nothing new — falsifying damage reports to claim more grain was lost, selling grain on the side, forging account books…

Zhù Ying dismissed those implicated and promoted several Ministry of Revenue clerks to minor official posts, among them Niu Jin and his peers. With this, every one of those who had once traveled south with her had now obtained a proper appointment. She also assigned some of the attendants from her household estate to fill part of the vacant clerk positions, giving them too the assurance of a government salary.

After several days wandering the granaries, the Crown Prince and his guards had managed to grasp only that “the granaries are very large, and it would be genuinely difficult to detect wrongdoing inside them.”

Zhù Ying felt no impatience. Her aim had never been to transform the Crown Prince overnight — she merely wanted him to understand certain things by seeing them himself.

What she had not anticipated was that the Crown Prince would misread her intention and go before the emperor with a commendation: Zhù Ying had already done everything that could be done; given the sheer size of the granaries, some irregularities were unavoidable; the fact that this one had been discovered in time was proof that the court’s officials were still diligent and capable.

When the Crown Prince made this report to the emperor, Zhù Ying was present in her capacity as a Ministry of Revenue official, listening from the side. Her heart was a tangle of competing feelings.

That same afternoon, by way of “repayment,” she and Chen Meng hauled the Crown Prince out to the countryside.

The Crown Prince said, “Hasn’t the grain storage case been closed? Why are we heading outside the city again?”

Chen Meng said, “Please allow us to show Your Highness something of the fields.”

By now, a scattering of crops had ripened. Many farmers were already harvesting. Chen Meng asked the Crown Prince to come down into the fields, going through the work one step at a time — reaping, threshing, drying.

The Crown Prince had never done this kind of work. He labored hard for the better part of a day and managed to thresh barely two dou of grain by the time he was soaked in sweat. He worked; Chai Lingcheng and the others could not stand idle either.

Chen Meng washed his hands and said, with great gravity, “Do you now know the hardship of farming?”

The Crown Prince wiped his hands and nodded.

Zhù Ying said, “What you just produced — less than half a mu’s harvest, two dou — is roughly equivalent to what a farmer owes in grain tax for one mu of land. Please, Your Highness, recall what we saw in the granaries these past few days.”

The Crown Prince startled. “Was this to help me know the hardship of farming?”

Zhù Ying said, “Not quite. It was to ask you to consider — a person who spends an entire year laboring like this, who then encounters natural disaster or human calamity: what might they feel inside? Despair? Rage? Or something else entirely? Year after year, there are uprisings among the people. Your Highness should come to understand the feelings of ‘the people.’ Your Highness needs to learn to be afraid.”

She was at a loss for other methods. For someone like the Crown Prince, on the subject of grand moral principles, which of the great Confucian scholars around him did not possess far more learning than she, Zhù Ying? Even Xian Jing had served in local posts and in the Ministry of Revenue — he had said everything that could be said. “Do not exhaust the people.” “The people are most precious, the ruler least.” Yes, the words could be recited from memory. And then what?

Without feeling it in one’s own flesh and bones — without comprehension — there was no fear. Even compassion was left floating in midair.

The emperor’s ceremonial plowing rite in spring — he gripped the plow while others steadied him, someone else led the ox, helpers stood on either side, and that already counted as labor. It bore no comparison to how Chen and Zhù refused to let anyone assist the Crown Prince, insisting he do everything “with his own hands.”

Zhù Ying could only hope the Crown Prince would remember today’s feeling.

Chen Meng said to the Crown Prince, “Plowing in spring, tending in summer, harvesting in autumn, storing in winter, and then conscription duties on top — with aging parents above and wife and children below, even here in the capital’s outskirts, the people just barely scrape by. Once their land is seized…” He shook his head.

The Crown Prince expressed his own sentiments.

Chen Meng added, “The people deserve our compassion! I implore Your Highness to show mercy to the common people.”

Zhù Ying, meanwhile, was watching the Crown Prince’s solemn expression while casting sideways glances at his attendants.

Chai Lingcheng knew who Zhù Ying was, and he felt a certain warmth toward her. Watching her conduct today, he found it overlapping with the image he had of those “devoted senior ministers” from legend. As his eyes met Zhù Ying’s, Chai Lingcheng too felt a stirring of feeling.

Somewhat unnerved, he said, “Thank goodness — thank goodness people are born into their proper stations. We don’t have to be like them, suffering through all this hardship.”

His companions glanced at the farmers around them — gray with dust, shoes caked in dirt, many with holes worn through the upper fabric, clothes faded and worn thin, patched all over. They nodded with heartfelt agreement at Chai Lingcheng’s words.

The Crown Prince said, “The lives of the people are indeed hard. They should be cared for — otherwise the realm will be depleted, the court unable to balance its accounts, and the foundations of the dynasty will grow unstable. The key is to ensure they remain orderly and law-abiding, not turning to banditry. It requires both the carrot and the stick — instruction and education, to keep them compliant and docile and prevent any rash behavior…”

Chen Meng thought to himself: so long as you can remember today when it matters, at least some of your foolish impulses will be held in check.

But what flashed through Zhù Ying’s mind was something else entirely: people say that the noble and the well-fed only “scheme for the benefit of their own house.” The imperial family — were they any different? When they spoke of “the realm,” it was only because they regarded the realm as their family’s possession.

One must not starve the hen to death — otherwise there would be no more eggs.

Zhù Ying said, “The day is not early — we should head back.”

“It’s not early indeed,” said the Crown Prince. “The Minister and the Prefect care for me — I know it in my heart.”

You know absolutely nothing. Zhù Ying bent down, picked up a broom, and tossed it onto the grain pile.

——

It was not until after three days of hauling the Crown Prince through the fields that Zhù Ying and Chen Meng brought out the final version of their memorial and delivered a flawless report.

That achievement, naturally, had the Crown Prince’s name attached to it.

The emperor still only listened. When it was finished, he said, “Very well, let it be as stated. There is one more matter.”

Zhù Ying and Chen Meng both looked up expectantly. The Crown Prince pricked up his ears as well.

The emperor said, “The nation has many demands, and Minister Dou is under too great a strain alone…”

Chen Meng’s heart gave a sudden lurch. He harbored no particular ambition for the position of Chief Minister — but he was already Capital Prefect, and yet the emperor, right here in front of him… Was this perhaps… possible? He was not young anymore, and the Crown Prince now needed someone to assist and guide him…

The emperor said, “I intend to bring Li the Attendant-in-Chief into the Council of State to assist Minister Dou.”

It was a statement, not a question.

Chen Meng’s hopes collapsed. He said flatly, “The Attendant-in-Chief was Your Majesty’s former tutor from your days as a prince — I fear he is advancing in years.”

The emperor smiled. “No need to worry about that — his constitution is still vigorous.”

Li the Attendant-in-Chief was in better health than the emperor himself. The emperor had imperial physicians around him every day, while Li the Attendant-in-Chief, at his age, could still ride a horse to morning court under his own power.

The emperor was plainly not seeking anyone’s opinion. Zhù Ying, for her part, had no intention of arguing, and said, “This minister is young and of limited insight. The matter of the Chief Ministers is not something for me to discuss — I would not dare mislead Your Majesty.”

The emperor said with a smile, “Then let preparations be made.”

Chen Meng and Zhù Ying exchanged a glance, and both filed out.

Outside the hall, Chen Meng muttered under his breath, “Even Xian Jing would be better than…”

Zhù Ying said, “His Majesty trusts him. Xian Jing, on the other hand, His Majesty is guarded toward.”

Chen Meng said, with a rueful self-deprecating air, “In truth, Grand Master of Ceremonies Lu would not be bad. Or Yao Zhen — he’s been head of the Ministry of Personnel for how many years now…”

Zhù Ying said, “The most exhausted of all is Minister Dou.”

“When is Zheng the Seventh coming back?!” Chen Meng said, suddenly missing Zheng Xi.

Zhù Ying said, “At a time like this, even capable men would rather not make themselves conspicuous before the emperor. You and I are best off keeping a low profile.” Many people were waiting for a “wise ruler” — but Zhù Ying knew no wise ruler would come.

“One can only hope the Crown Prince grows clear-sighted.”

The two sighed in unison, then parted — both still had business to attend to.

After returning from the countryside, Zhù Ying had no more idle moments. The harvest had already begun, which meant the provincial governors’ annual visit to the capital was not far off.

Alongside Ministry of Revenue affairs, Zhù Ying had her own matters to prepare for — many officials of southern origin would use this occasion to pay a call on her. She was still weighing something, undecided about whether to act. If she was going to do it, she needed to move quickly and raise the matter while the provincial governors were still in the capital.

She was still turning the timing over in her mind when Xiang Le came rushing in with Xiang Yu, and both dropped to their knees before her. “My lord!”

Hu Shijie had been unable to stop them in time and looked on in astonishment as the uncle and nephew fell weeping across the threshold of the study.

Zhù Ying rose. “What has happened?”

Xiang Le wept. “My lord — my mother has passed away.”

Zhù Ying said, “Is the word confirmed?”

“Yes — my elder brother sent word by letter. I — I…”

Zhù Ying said, “Do not rush — one thing at a time. First transfer your current duties over to Shan Mingbao; then take your mourning leave. I will request a posthumous honor for your mother…”

Shan Mingbao was also a southerner, though not from Wuzhou — he had once secured a minor post for himself through his own efforts, and later been introduced to Zhao Su through a connection; he could be counted only half a fellow from the same region.

Xiang Le agreed to each point.

Zhù Ying said, “Xiang Yu observes a mourning period of one year. By this time next year, if your elder brother is willing to let him go, have him come find me on his own. I will make arrangements for him then.”

What the uncle and nephew had feared most was, first, the funeral for Old Madam Xiang, and second, Xiang Yu’s future prospects. Hearing these words, they both prostrated themselves.

Zhù Ying said, “Very well — go now.”

Two days later, Xiang Le finished handing over his responsibilities, and together with Xiang Yu and a few associates, set off on horseback, riding south in all haste.

With Xiang Le and Xiang Yu gone, Zhù Ying now had to manage not only the Ministry of Revenue but also certain household affairs that needed arranging.

The four of them — Zhù Biao and the others — she assigned to posts as scribes at the Ministry of Revenue. In the imperial city, Zhù Ying now had true “close-at-hand” trusted people again.

With that, some of their former positions in the household now needed to be filled.

Zhù Ying had Zhù Yin and the others jointly oversee household affairs for the time being, and once this year’s people arrived from the estate, she would make further reassignments.

Then she summoned Lin Feng. “Would you be willing to go to the Eastern Palace?”

Lin Feng had been at loose ends for some time. On hearing this, she lit up with delight. “I would! Am I to keep watch — I mean, protect the Eastern Palace? But what about Little Sister?”

Zhù Ying was inclined to send Su Zhe home. As the heir of Asu County, she had been away from it for far too long — returning to familiarize herself with the county and strengthen her ties with the clan would be the right course. Yet she also hoped Su Zhe’s horizons would continue to broaden.

Lin Feng said, somewhat awkwardly, “She — can’t she come too?”

Zhù Ying said, “Her, I will arrange separately.”

“Then I’ll go to the Eastern Palace. His Majesty’s health is poor — the Eastern Palace matters.”

Zhù Ying felt a measure of quiet satisfaction. “Pack your things and prepare to take up your post.”

“Yes!”

Placing someone in the Eastern Palace was not particularly difficult for Zhù Ying. The Crown Prince was still nominally in charge of Wuzhou, after all. Now that the timing was right, she could raise it with the Crown Prince once Wuzhou’s tribute arrived. Then, with a word to Dou Peng and Yao Zhen to smooth the way, the matter would be all but settled.

Zhù Ying also had a separate conversation with Su Zhe. Su Zhe was already a young woman of maturity, and Zhù Ying hoped she would make her own decision.

Su Zhe thought it over and said, “I want to go to the Eastern Palace and see for myself. I hold an official position, but I have never been involved in court affairs. Only in my foster-grandfather’s household was I able to speak on equal terms with the others. Now that there is no such household, having a role in the Eastern Palace would also be valuable.”

Zhù Ying said, “Agreed. I will arrange it.”

——

She first went to speak with Yao Zhen, had everything prepared, then raised the matter with the Crown Prince — naturally and without friction.

The next day, Zhù Ying crossed paths with Yao Zhen outside the palace gates and said, “I’ll come find you in a little while.”

Yao Zhen smiled. “Of course.”

But Zhù Ying noticed his cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright, his whole manner charged with a barely concealed excitement. She asked, “Do you have something on your mind?”

Yao Zhen said, “Nothing, nothing.” Yet the corners of his mouth were pulling, against his will, into a smile.

Zhù Ying thought privately that something seemed off, but she could not very well press him, and went on to the Ministry of Revenue to run the morning meeting. Afterward she made her way to the Ministry of Personnel.

Before she even arrived, she found the place in an uproar.

She did not go in, but called to Zhù Biao instead. “Go and find out what has happened.”

Zhù Biao ran over and came back quickly. “My lord — Steward Yao has been dismissed by His Majesty!”

“What?!”

Zhù Biao said in a low voice, “Apparently he submitted a memorial — requesting that the Crown Prince be appointed regent. His Majesty flew into a fury, saying, ‘I am not dead yet! Even when the late emperor was at death’s door, he did not appoint the current emperor as regent. Now that the emperor is still well, the Steward of Personnel is already looking to attach himself to a new master…'”