1.8 Lin Mei’s Visit

Volume One
1.8 Miss Lin Visits

April had already arrived.

Perhaps influenced by the recent raid—especially since it targeted the He family, a prominent and well-connected clan—the entire salt administration in the Jiangnan region was unusually quiet. More than a month had passed since the raid, yet no major cases had surfaced.

Lin Rui couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss, as if this was the calm before the storm.

As the saying goes, “There are always those willing to risk their heads for profit, but no one bothers with losing ventures.” Everyone, even a child, knew that the salt trade involved vast sums of silver. Could it really have been trouble-free for so long? Who would believe that?

Even if the salt merchants were too afraid to act, would the powerful officials waiting to divvy up the spoils remain indifferent?

The problem was, since nothing had happened yet, the Salt Inspection Commissioner’s office couldn’t very well go looking for trouble.

Normally, it wouldn’t matter, but having just dealt with the He family, stirring the pot again now would be seen as lacking decorum.

It wasn’t about legality so much as appearances—it would be too unseemly.

Knowing this, Lin Rui could only suppress his unease and take the opportunity to rest. More importantly, after such a prolonged investigation into the He family, all their accounts had finally been neatly organized and ready for formal reporting. All that remained was to await the official commendation.

The main hall of the Salt Inspection Commissioner’s office.

“Excellent, excellent!” Lin Ruhai slowly set down the ledger, a satisfied expression on his face. “Anping, you’ve worked hard these past days. I never imagined that the He family, just a mere salt merchant clan, could be raided for such a staggering amount of silver. It seems they have been flagrantly violating the law these years.

“Now, with the nation in turmoil and the court’s expenses ever rising, annual tax revenue remains stagnant. This year, it barely reached five million taels in silver. Even with grain, cotton, and silk taxes counted in, the total barely exceeds ten million taels. How is that enough?

“Sadly, merchants like the He family think only of personal gain, disregarding their duty to the state and trampling imperial law. They fill their pockets greedily, with one family alone reaping nearly thirty percent of the court’s revenues. They deserve death and confiscation!”

“My lord speaks truly,” Lin Rui nodded naturally but sighed inwardly.

Lin Ruhai was indeed too naïve and barely understood the situation beneath the surface.

The drastic decline in the Great Zhou dynasty’s tax revenue—reducing the court’s silver income to a mere five million taels—was never truly the fault of the merchants.

They were undeserving of such blame.

Lin Rui knew well that this dynasty, unprecedented in modern history, came into being through an accident of the previous Ming dynasty—specifically, the Jiajing Emperor’s failure to appoint an heir after the death of his Crown Prince Zhuangjing.

This fostered ambitions within the royal family, especially in his fourth son, Prince Jing Zhu Zaizhen, who coveted the throne. Secretly nurturing loyalists and currying favor among officials, he eventually grew too powerful to manage.

Although the rightful successor after Jiajing’s death was his third son, Emperor Longqing Zhu Zaizhou, fate intervened before he could ascend. Seeing his chances dwindle, the fourth son declared rebellion under the ancestral “Jingnan” banner, seeking to seize power by force.

How was he able to raise troops?

Years of cultivating influence made it possible. But once he was defeated, what would happen to his followers?

The trouble with “choosing sides” is that there is no turning back.

No one expected that upon hearing of the rebellion, Jiajing Emperor would die suddenly from shock.

His two sons then fought for four years: Zhu Zaizhou held the capital region, while Zhu Zaizhen fled to Jinling. Just as everyone expected the country to fragment once more into north and south, the latter died childless from illness.

That complicated matters.

His death was inconsequential, but what about his followers?

After much “discussion,” the founding emperor of Great Zhou, once a general under Zhu Zaizhen, gained the upper hand. Supported by four sworn brothers and many retainers, he ascended the throne in Jinling, renamed the country Great Zhou, and continued fighting across the Yangtze River.

This was the origin of the dynasty’s core military meritocracy—the Four Kings and Eight Dukes.

Unfortunately, the founding emperor’s reign lasted only four years.

He was succeeded by his son, the ambitious Emperor Taizong, whose reign was also short. After six years, he passed away, leaving the remnants of the Ming dynasty in chaos. The Great Zhou then launched a northern campaign, retaking the capital and unifying the land, founding the current regime.

However, his reign lasted barely ten years.

His son, the present retired emperor, eventually took the throne and lived a long life.

Between the founding emperor, Taizong, the retired emperor, and the current Emperor Jing’an, four generations spanned just over sixty years.

The problem was that the founding emperor’s claim was illegitimate. To ensure stability, he left most Ming policies untouched. During Taizong’s northern campaign, he sought to minimize resistance by recognizing many of the previous dynasty’s privileges and noble families.

In short, despite the change of dynasties, Ming and Zhou were essentially continuous.

The founding emperor ruled by force, but firmly.

Taizong unified the realm effectively.

By the retired emperor’s reign, the myriad issues of the old Ming had begun to surface. Fortunately, he was a capable ruler and managed to maintain balance, though his advancing age and failing eyesight forced him to abdicate.

The throne then passed to the fourth prince—the current Emperor Jing’an.

This raised new complications. What of the first three princes?

The eldest, Prince Yizhong, vaguely referenced in the Dream of the Red Chamber, had instigated a sudden military intervention that was quelled but left residual forces. The second and third princes became locked in bitter rivalry.

Fearing a repeat of the Zhu Zaizhou-Zhu Zaizhen conflict, the retired emperor chose the fourth son to succeed.

The second prince died broken-hearted, while the third became Prince Zhongshun.

Within the court, combined with external pressures from the Jurchen tribes of the northern mountains and rivers, the Tatars of the northern steppes, and the Qianxiang kingdom beyond the southern mountains, the realm faced severe internal and external crises.

As the saying goes, “Strong trunks support weak branches.” With such a fragile core, control over the peripheries was naturally difficult.

Thus, the erosion of tax revenue and core imperial interests was hardly surprising.

“I finalized the He family’s case on the first day of this month, compiling every detail in the memorial. The report should have reached the capital by now,” Lin Ruhai said, not reading the other man’s thoughts.

“Is all the silver prepared?”

“All 2.7 million taels are stored at the Yangzhou treasury,” Lin Rui replied promptly. “The prefect has promised to arrange escort troops to deliver the silver to the capital as soon as possible.”

“Good, good!” Lin Ruhai nodded with satisfaction. “I probably won’t stay here much longer. Anping, I know your abilities. These past two years, you’ve only overseen the salt militia because there was no other position for you. Once we return to the capital, that will change.”

“Thank you, Uncle Lin!” Lin Rui finally showed a smile.

Though he had commanded hundreds of salt troops for two years, he held no real status. His appointment as a fifth-rank assistant official was a purchased title, the highest possible for this line of work, made possible only by Lin Ruhai’s endorsement. Otherwise, who ever thought that money alone could buy such positions?

Though the Salt Inspection Commissioner was the top official overseeing Jiangnan’s salt administration, he was technically subordinate to the Censorate, officially designated as an “external inspector.” His rank was no higher than fifth rank, and he had no real posts to distribute.

Even the salt militia was nominally considered personal guards under Lin Ruhai, funded by salt taxes but without formal jurisdiction.

Lin Rui’s fifth-rank assistant title was essentially honorary—he was known simply as Lin Ruhai’s “head of personal guards,” his fate tied to his superior. This was why he diligently assisted the Salt Inspection Commissioner’s office.

Why was he not posted elsewhere?

With Lin Ruhai currently away from the capital and unable to handle affairs personally, it was difficult to secure a better position. Though he had asked for help through letters, even appealing to the Rongguo Mansion for recommendations, Lin Rui lacked confidence.

He knew the Jia family was now merely a hollow shell. Jia Yucun’s post as prefect of Jinling was really controlled by Wang Zitong. This was the true reason behind the letter stating “the matter regarding the nephew is concluded” after the Gourd case was settled.

Jia Yucun was a Wang family pawn and had never been granted true favor.

Moreover, Wang Zitong himself was in trouble and unlikely to help secure a post.

Further, once one’s identity as a disciple was cemented in the feudal era, their loyalty was forever tied to their patron’s faction. The ruined Wang and Jia families were unworthy ships to board. In contrast, Lin Ruhai, as a trusted imperial confidant and rising figure, clearly offered better prospects.

Besides, this lord was somewhat naïve, unfamiliar with the grassroots, honest, and generous with opportunities.

And now, the chance had arrived.

Having achieved such merit, Lin Ruhai, a Senior Consultant of the Lantai Ministry (fourth rank) and a trusted imperial confidant, would surely aim for a Vice Minister position (third rank) upon returning to the capital.

This would place him within the most exclusive inner circle of the court.

Once achieved, securing a favorable fifth-rank post would be effortless.

“Take this with you.” Just as Lin Rui was elated, Lin Ruhai surprised him further by handing over an envelope. “The present Ministry of Personnel official, Xu Jin, is a longtime friend of mine and very supportive. After the He family raid, I reported the case to the Tongzheng Office. Within days, Xu sent a private letter confirming the emperor’s summons for me to return to the capital. He also mentioned that the left Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue is elderly and soon to retire.”

Seeing the confident look on Lin Ruhai’s face, Lin Rui knew the matter was settled.

“Congratulations, Uncle Lin!” There was nothing more to say.

Lin Ruhai said no more, merely tapping the unopened envelope on the table.

Lin Rui opened it and found three pages of letter and a calling card.

“Now we just wait for the official order,” Lin Ruhai smiled at his joyful expression. “When the time comes, you must depart first. Once settled in the capital, take this letter to Xu Wenzhong. He will arrange things for you. Also, bring some local gifts and deliver a few letters for me.”

“Thank you, Uncle Lin!” Lin Rui hurriedly rose and bowed respectfully.

This was his entry into the court as a specially nurtured protégé!

“Good, this is what you deserve.” Lin Ruhai said no more. “I doubt anything major will arise now. I heard you recently took in two new maidservants? Since you joined me over two years ago, it’s good to take this chance to relax.”

“Nephew takes his leave!” Lin Rui understood the hint and wasted no time.

But as he returned to the office and entered the backyard, he was stunned by what he saw.

“Miss Lin, how come you—”

“Brother Rui, you’re truly fortunate!”