[Imperial Palace · Hall of Supreme Harmony · Hour of the Rabbit]
Several days later, court convened once more.
Xie Qingyan stood beside the dragon throne, a memorial scroll in his hands. His voice rang out, cold and clear: "Your Majesty, this minister has a matter to present."
The young Emperor nodded hastily: "Please speak, Imperial Uncle."
Xie Qingyan unfurled the scroll and read aloud: "In recent months, prices in the capital have soared. Rice and silver alike have risen thirty percent above levels from half a year ago. Upon reviewing the Ministry of Revenue's accounts, this minister discovered an excess of old currency in circulation. Bad money drives out good, and the common people suffer greatly."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the assembled officials. "This minister requests an imperial decree to implement currency reform—recalling old coins and minting new, standardized currency to restore monetary order."
The moment these words left his mouth, the court erupted.
The Minister of Revenue was first to step forward, bowing deeply: "While the Regent's proposal has merit, recalling old currency would require enormous expenditure. The national treasury may not be able to bear it."
His voice was smooth, practiced—the voice of a man who had perfected the art of disagreeing without appearing disagreeable.
The Vice Minister of Personnel followed close behind: "Furthermore, old currency has circulated for many years. A sudden recall could provoke public unrest."
The Director of the Ministry of Works chimed in as well: "Minting new coins requires vast quantities of copper and iron. Such materials cannot be gathered on short notice."
The three officials spoke in rapid succession, each sentence a rebuttal of Xie Qingyan's proposal.
Yin Wuwang stood at the head of the military officials, watching with cold detachment.
Their lines are well-rehearsed. Even their expressions look like they came from the same mold. He critiqued silently. How lazy was this original author? The villain's lackeys only know these same tired excuses—"the treasury is empty," "it might cause unrest," "materials are insufficient." When I listened to useless underlings making excuses back in the Demon Palace, at least they had more variety. One fellow once blamed a failed assassination on "unfavorable star alignments." Ridiculous, but at least creative.
Still, it wasn't surprising that these three had jumped out to oppose the proposal. They were all the Prime Minister's men, after all.
But something felt off. Fuguang's proposal seemed too hasty, too full of holes.
With Fuguang's intellect, he wouldn't make such basic mistakes.
Unless... he's doing it on purpose.
Yin Wuwang's eyes gleamed, and the corner of his mouth curved upward. So that's it. Fuguang is fishing.
Sure enough, Prime Minister Zhou Yanling stroked his long beard and stepped forward at a measured pace: "The Regent's patriotic dedication is admirable. However, this matter involves many complexities and should not be rushed. In this old minister's humble opinion, perhaps we should first conduct a trial in one area. Once results are seen, then we may discuss broader implementation."
Xie Qingyan replied evenly: "The Prime Minister's words are reasonable. Then let us begin with a trial in the capital. We shall reconvene in three months."
He yielded so easily?
The officials exchanged bewildered glances. Even the young Emperor looked astonished. The Regent of old never gave an inch—he was notorious for his ruthlessness. Why was he so agreeable today?
A flash of triumph passed through Zhou Yanling's eyes. He bowed: "The Regent is wise."
At that moment, Yin Wuwang strode forward and called out: "Hold!"
Every head turned toward him.
Yin Wuwang lifted his chin, wearing an expression of contempt: "This currency reform of the Regent's—this duke fails to see anything brilliant about it. The treasury is empty, the people are restless, copper and iron are scarce. How do you propose to solve these three problems? If this is nothing but empty talk, you'd best abandon the idea before wasting the nation's resources!"
Xie Qingyan's brow furrowed, his voice icy: "The Duke of Zhenguo should stick to leading troops. Court affairs need not trouble you."
"Hmph!" Yin Wuwang snorted coldly. "This duke may be a military man, but even I know that empty rhetoric harms the nation. If the Regent has no real solutions, then stop this reckless meddling that drains the treasury and burdens the people!"
The two faced off, tension crackling between them like lightning before a storm.
Yin Wuwang stared at Xie Qingyan's frost-cold face, internally screaming:
"Empty rhetoric"? "Nothing but talk"?
What garbage dialogue did this hack author write?! Fuguang once shattered ten thousand techniques with a single sword strike. His strategies are unparalleled. Who in this world is qualified to accuse him of empty talk?
Making me publicly humiliate the man I love... I'm adding this to the Prime Minister's tab!
With that thought fueling him, he threw himself deeper into the act, hurling even harsher words—though deep in his eyes, a flicker of apology remained hidden.
Zhou Yanling watched this scene unfold, his smile deepening. The enmity between the Regent and the Duke was common knowledge. The Duke's opposition today had done him a great favor.
Ding!
Little Deer Assistant 9527 chimed in Yin Wuwang's mind: "Recommendation: Eliminate the Regent's influence. Kill the Regent. Then currency reform becomes unnecessary. Fast-track completion."
Yin Wuwang's eye twitched violently.
Kill Fuguang to skip the currency reform arc?! Is this broken system completely insane?!
I've always watched him from the shadows. Scheming excuses to cross paths, pretending every encounter was coincidence, being enemies when all I wanted was to stand by his side. And now this worthless artifact spirit wants me to throw it all away for "fast-track completion"?
Over my dead body. I would sooner destroy every world in existence than harm a single hair on Fuguang's head.
He suppressed his surging rage and continued playing the disgruntled general.
Court concluded amid their "conflict." Ministers filed out in small groups, murmuring among themselves.
"Did you see that? The Duke nearly drew his sword on him!"
"The Regent's face was practically green. I've never seen him back down like that."
"Those two have been at each other's throats for years. It's only a matter of time before one of them ends up dead."
The whispers floated through the corridors like autumn leaves. Zhou Yanling walked among them, his expression serene, but inwardly he was calculating furiously.
The Duke's attack was perfectly timed. With him opposing the Regent so publicly, no one will suspect me of orchestrating the resistance. I can move freely now.
He caught the eye of Minister Liu across the courtyard and gave an almost imperceptible nod.
Minister Liu's face paled slightly, but he returned the gesture. The message was unmistakably clear: Proceed as planned.
[Ministry of Revenue · Hour of the Snake]
After court dispersed, Xie Qingyan did not return to his manor. Instead, he brought several trusted aides to the Ministry of Revenue.
Minister Liu greeted him with trembling legs, cold sweat beading on his forehead: "The Regent honors us with his presence. This humble official failed to welcome Your Highness properly."
Xie Qingyan's tone was mild: "This king has come to review the accounts from the past three months. Minister Liu won't have any objections, I trust?"
Minister Liu's face went pale. "Of course not, of course not. This humble official will fetch them immediately."
He scurried away. Xie Qingyan stood in the center of the hall with his hands behind his back, his gaze falling on a map hanging on the wall.
The Ministry's main hall was decorated with all the trappings of bureaucratic importance—carved wooden screens, bronze incense burners, silk scrolls bearing calligraphy from past ministers. But Xie Qingyan noticed the details that didn't fit. The dust in the corners that suggested infrequent cleaning. The worn patches on the carpet where feet had paced nervously. The faint smell of incense that was just slightly too strong—as if someone had been burning it to mask other odors.
Interesting. They've been conducting business here that they don't want others to smell.
The Ministry of Revenue is indeed problematic. He noted silently. Minister Liu's expression just now was clearly guilty. Evasive eyes, sweat on his temples, fingers unconsciously clutching his robes—full of tells. In the cultivation world, such clumsy attempts at deception wouldn't fool even an outer sect disciple.
This man has been skimming funds for at least three years. Xie Qingyan estimated, cataloging every nervous twitch. The question is how deep the rot goes, and how high up the chain it reaches.
The Prime Minister, certainly. But is he acting alone, or does this connect to Prince Huai?
Patience. The web will reveal itself.
The political games of mortals are sometimes almost tediously simple. But tedious does not mean harmless. Even simple poisons can kill if administered over time.
Little Deer Assistant 9528 activated: "Alert: The Ministry's accounts contain three obvious forgeries. Recommend exposing them immediately. Demonstrate the Regent's authority."
Xie Qingyan's expression remained unchanged. He ignored the suggestion entirely.
Expose them on the spot? Only fools did that. What he wanted was for these people to continue—to grow bolder, to reach further—so he could catch them all in one net.
Moments later, Minister Liu returned with a stack of ledgers, presenting them with exaggerated deference.
Xie Qingyan flipped through a few pages at random, his brow creasing: "These expenditures here—where are the itemized details?"
Minister Liu's sweat intensified: "Th-these are disaster relief funds. The detailed records are with the local officials..."
"Is that so?" Xie Qingyan smiled faintly and closed the ledger. "This king will send people to verify. Minister Liu, you had best pray the accounts are in order."
Minister Liu's knees buckled. He nearly collapsed: "Y-yes, this humble official understands."
Behind him, several clerks exchanged terrified glances. The Regent's visit had been unexpected, and his questions had been far too pointed. Something was very, very wrong.
Xie Qingyan said nothing more and departed.
[Regent's Manor · Study · Hour of the Dog]
Night fell. The Regent's manor blazed with lamplight.
Xie Qingyan sat in his study, copies of the Ministry's ledgers spread before him. He marked suspicious entries one by one, his brush moving with precise strokes.
Three discrepancies. He calculated. First, the disaster relief funds have unclear destinations—three hundred thousand taels supposedly sent to flood victims in the south, but the provincial reports show only half that amount arrived. Someone had pocketed the difference. Second, the copper supplies for minting don't add up—the Ministry claims to have purchased ten thousand catties, but the mint records show only seven thousand received. Third, the source of black market old currency is suspicious—someone is selling coins that should have been melted down years ago.
All three trails lead to the same destination—Prime Minister Zhou Yanling.
He had deliberately left openings in today's court proposal to make Zhou Yanling believe an opportunity had presented itself. That old fox would certainly hoard old currency now, planning to sell at inflated prices once the reform took effect.
A simple trap for simple greed. The Prime Minister thinks himself so clever, but he's dancing exactly as I intended.
All Xie Qingyan had to do was wait for the fish to bite.
Yin Wuwang performed adequately today. He recalled their confrontation in court. His lips twitched upward for the briefest instant before returning to their usual cold line. It seems this Demon Lord's brain functions after all. He saw through my fishing scheme at a glance.
He penned a brief coded message and summoned his shadow guard: "Deliver this to the Duke of Zhenguo's manor."
The guard departed with the letter.
Half an hour later, a reply arrived.
Xie Qingyan unfolded the paper. Four characters sprawled across it in bold, sweeping strokes—
"The bait is set."
Xie Qingyan studied the flamboyant handwriting, one eyebrow arching slightly.
This Demon Lord's calligraphy is just like him. Arrogant to the extreme. Every stroke bold and sweeping, refusing to be contained by convention.
He traced one character with his fingertip—an unconscious gesture that he caught and stopped immediately. The stroke was bold and confident, just like its writer.
Focus. There's work to be done.
He tucked the letter away and returned to the ledgers.
Outside, the night deepened. The candle flames flickered, casting long shadows across the study walls. Somewhere in the distance, a night watchman called the hour.
In the Duke of Zhenguo's manor across the city, Yin Wuwang was likely doing the same—reviewing documents, planning their next move, preparing for the battle ahead.
Strange, Xie Qingyan thought, how natural it feels to coordinate with him. As if we've been doing this for years instead of days.
He pushed the thought aside. There was no time for such distractions.
This game had only just begun.
The Prime Minister thought himself the hunter. He would soon learn what it meant to be the prey.
And Xie Qingyan had every intention of winning.
[End of Chapter 6]
Next Chapter Preview:
The Prime Minister takes the bait. The black market stirs with rumors of old currency. And the Duke of Zhenguo receives an invitation to a banquet—one he definitely should refuse.
Chapter 7: Respecting the Elderly! Let the Trapped Prime Minister Think He's Winning