He murmured to himself, his fingers unconsciously flipping through a stack of old files about local products from various regions.

“Coal from the Western Mountains is plentiful, but extraction and transportation costs are prohibitive, distant supplies can’t solve an immediate need…”

“Silk from the Southern Lake tops the world in quality, but sericulture cycles are long, making it hard to meet urgent demand…”

He read each one in turn, his heart growing heavier. These regional products either couldn’t solve an immediate shortage from afar, or involved too wide a supply chain to be converted quickly into hard silver to fund a war.

Suddenly, he remembered Su Ming mentioning their village’s paper-making workshop, which used an improved new method—very low cost, yet produced abundant, high-quality paper.

One thought, like wildfire across a dry plain, exploded in his mind!

Paper!

Official paper for the government!

The imperial offices of the Great Xing Dynasty consumed staggering amounts of paper every day. This paper was centrally purchased by the Imperial Household Office, then distributed to the ministries. And the largest supplier was several big paper workshops under the Yongchang Marquis Manor!

They used the poorest raw materials to produce barely acceptable paper, and sold it at sky-high prices.

This was a tacitly accepted, shadowy channel for transferring profits.

If… if the court could set up government-supervised, privately operated paper workshops in the northern regions where bamboo, wood, and hemp were abundant, and employ the new method used in Qingshi Town…

How much could paper costs be driven down?

How many soldiers could the saved silver equip?

Xu Qing’s breathing suddenly grew rapid.

He sprang up, clutching the files so tightly his knuckles whitened.

He had found a way to break convention and strike at the existing pattern of vested interests!

This was a staggering plan that could change the empire’s fiscal structure!

He had to tell Su Ming immediately!

……

In Su Ming’s small courtyard, the last few leaves of the old locust tree had been stripped off by the winter wind.

He had just finished practicing a set of Lin Yu’s improved fist techniques designed to invigorate qi and blood, his whole body emitting a faint warmth.

A knock sounded at the courtyard gate.

“Knock knock knock! Brother Su! Brother Su, are you there?”

It was Xu Qing’s voice, tinged with pent-up excitement.

Su Ming opened the door to find Xu Qing standing outside, his cheeks flushed from excitement and brisk walking.

“Brother Xu, what’s the rush?”

Xu Qing grabbed Su Ming’s arm, pulled him into the yard, and slammed the gate shut behind them.

“Brother Su! I’ve thought of it! I’ve thought of an infallible plan to increase revenue and cut expenses for the treasury!”

He paced back and forth in the yard, speaking as he walked.

“Paper! The problem is paper!”

“I checked the Ministry of Revenue’s purchase ledgers over the past decade, and the government’s expenditure on paper is alarming every year! Most of that silver flows straight into the Yongchang Marquis Manor’s pockets!”

“Brother Su, I recall you saying your village’s papermaking method is extremely low-cost, right?”

He stopped and stared at Su Ming with burning eyes.

Su Ming’s heart skipped and sank.

He looked at Xu Qing’s face, glowing with idealism, his throat dry.

“I plan to submit a memorial, petitioning the court to implement, in northern raw material producing areas, the Qingshi Town model of ‘official supervision with private operation’ and to set up modern paper workshops using the new method to stabilize paper prices! The profits would not go into the imperial treasury but be directly allocated to the Ministry of War, earmarked for frontier military supplies!”

Xu Qing grew more excited the more he spoke, as if he could already see well-funded military campaigns and victorious armies returning.

“In this way, we won’t need to raise taxes on the people, yet can alleviate the urgent military funding shortage! This is a great benefit for the nation and its people! Brother Su, what do you think?”

He finished, eyes bright with expectation, waiting for Su Ming’s approval and applause.

But Su Ming only watched him in silence, his gaze heavy as iron.

The courtyard was very quiet, only the winter wind moaning through dead branches.

“Master…” Su Ming called in his mind.

“This is deadly, truly deadly!” Lin Yu’s soul body spun anxiously inside the ring.

“Disciple, steady him! Under no circumstances let him drag us into this! This is no longer about people’s livelihoods, it’s about digging up their ancestral graves!”

Su Ming inhaled deeply and spoke slowly, his voice hoarse.

“Brother Xu, your idea… is well thought-out.”

He affirmed that first, giving Xu Qing a moment to breathe.

“But have you considered why the Yongchang Marquis Manor’s business has lasted so many years and grown so large?”

Xu Qing blinked in surprise. “Of course… because their family is powerful.”

“Not merely powerful.” Su Ming shook his head and spoke each word deliberately, “It’s because those who need them to be powerful silently permit it. This business is a reward the emperor granted to the martial merit faction, a bone to placate them. If you pull that bone out now, what do you think those starving wolves will do?”

The flush drained from Xu Qing’s face visibly, leaving a pallor.

“I…”

“You are not touching the little trade of a single paper workshop.” Su Ming rose and stood before him, looking straight into his eyes. “You are striking at a tangled web of interests throughout the capital. You are declaring war on the entire martial merit faction!”

“They will not reason with you or debate whether your plan benefits the state and people. They will use the simplest, most direct method to make you and your memorial vanish from this world.”

Su Ming’s words were like a bucket of ice water poured over Xu Qing from head to toe.

The light in his eyes dimmed bit by bit, his body trembling.

“Are we to do nothing because they are powerful? Watch soldiers at the border starve and freeze to death?” Xu Qing’s voice carried bitter resentment.

“I do not mean that.” Su Ming’s tone softened, with a touch of pity. “Brother Xu, your heart is good. But action cannot rely on mere passion.”

He paused, then spoke with grave seriousness: “You may submit the memorial. But you must promise me two things.”

“First, all details about the new papermaking method must be completely blurred in the memorial. Say only that it synthesizes good methods from various places, and never let anyone trace it to any specific technical origin.”

“Second,” Su Ming’s eyes became unusually stern, “and this is the most important point: From today on, forget Qingshi Town, forget Su Family Village, and forget that you came to see me today. Your memorial must not contain those names— not a single one!”

Xu Qing stared at him dumbly, lips moving but no sound coming out.

Su Ming was not stopping him to obstruct; he was protecting him in his own way, and protecting himself.

After a long silence, Xu Qing slumped and nodded hoarsely, his voice raw: “I… understand.”

He left, spirit broken, his silhouette bleak like a defeated soldier.

Su Ming watched his back for a long time without moving.

“You tried your best, disciple.” Lin Yu sighed. “This friend is a good man, but he’s a liability. I hope he listens.”

Su Ming closed the courtyard gate and returned indoors.

He knew the fuse of a storm had been lit.

Xu Qing locked himself in the official lodgings of the Ministry of Revenue for an entire night.

At dawn the next day, he emerged.

His eyes were still red, but his gaze had regained clarity and resolve.

He placed a freshly rewritten memorial carefully into an envelope.

The memorial was titled: Petition to Stabilize Paper Prices and Increase Revenue to Replenish Military Supplies.

He submitted it in his personal capacity as a seventh-rank official of the Ministry of Revenue, Xu Qing.

As Su Ming predicted, once the memorial surfaced, it immediately stirred a not-small commotion within the ministry.

After reading it, the Minister and several vice ministers reacted strangely: they kept it on file without issuing it, and chose to wait and see.

They were all seasoned bureaucrats who could instantly sense the danger behind the memorial.

But the plan was indeed ingenious, striking right at the crux, so they couldn’t bring themselves to toss it into the wastebasket.

Thus the memorial quietly circulated among the desks of a few senior officials in the Ministry of Revenue.

……

Yongchang Marquis Manor, study.

Candles burned bright as a middle-aged man in brocade robes, stern and authoritative, listened to his aides’ report.

He was the Yongchang Marquis.

“…There is a junior official in the Ministry of Revenue named Xu Qing who submitted a petition to stabilize paper prices. Proposals like ‘official supervision with private operation’ and ‘profits directed back to military supplies’ are rather novel.” The aide with a goatee, a thin scholar, spoke in a measured tone.

“Oh? A junior clerk with such insight?” The Marquis set down the military book in his hand, his tone neutral, unreadable.

“The oddness lies here.” The goateed aide’s eyes flashed. “This man is from a humble background, his record is spotless—not the sort to possess such practical talent. I checked his contacts and found he is closely associated with one person—a newly titled jinshi, a Hanlin Academy compiler named Su Ming.”

“Su Ming?” The Marquis pronounced the unfamiliar name.

“He placed tenth in the second tier of this imperial exam, comes from Qingshi Town, a disciple of Zhou Wenhai. We previously considered him insignificant, so we did not report him to Your Lordship.” The aide emphasized “Zhou Wenhai” deliberately.

Qingshi Town!

The Marquis’s eyes sharpened. He remembered a few years prior when the steward in charge of the paper business had reported that a place in the south called Qingshi Town produced a new kind of paper that was high-quality and cheap, affecting the manor’s local business—then it had been dismissed. Now that name resurfaced, linked to a disciple of Zhou Wenhai and a memorial aimed at the paper trade…

“What has this Su Ming been doing since arriving in the capital?” the Marquis asked, his voice deepening.

“He lives quietly, only copying texts at the Hanlin Academy, keeping to himself and interacting little with colleagues. Nothing unusual was observed,” the aide answered. “There is also no direct evidence linking Xu Qing’s petition to Su Ming.”

“No evidence does not mean no connection.” The Marquis tapped the zitan wood desk softly, the sound heavy. “Zhou Wenhai’s disciple is unlikely to be a genuine dullard. Either he is deeply scheming, or someone is guiding him from behind.”

He pondered for a moment and ordered: “Increase surveillance. Keep a close eye on this Su Ming. And watch that Xu Qing as well. Do not alarm them. I want to know who they see and what they say each day.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Remember,” the Marquis’s eyes flashed coldly, “our manor has survived not only because of imperial favor, but because of caution. Any possible stir must be investigated thoroughly. If these two indeed harbor ill intent, plot against us…” He left the threat unsaid, but the air in the study turned murderous.

The Hanlin Academy remained a dead pool of calm.

Su Ming was still copying books.

But Zhang Yiming had utterly changed.

The memorial he had co-signed sank without a trace, not even a ripple.

On top of that, he received a rebuke from the Ministry of Personnel, accused of “not understanding governance and presumptuously discussing military affairs,” and was docked three months’ salary.

That final blow shattered his remaining pride.

He no longer spouted lofty speeches; he became sullen and mute.

He sat at his post every day, reading nothing, writing nothing, casting resentful glances at everyone around him.

Especially at Su Ming.

To him, Su Ming’s brand of “preserving one’s life through caution” was more contemptible than the greedy officials.

One day several people chatted in the tea room and someone mentioned the frontier war again.

“Have you heard? Lord Zhang’s memorial was rejected.”

“Alas, it’s a pity for Brother Zhang. He has talent, but lacks flexibility.”

Zhang Yiming, carrying a teacup, overheard and his face turned ashen.

He hurled the cup to the ground.

Crash!

The sharp sound startled everyone.

“Flexibility? How to be flexible?” Zhang Yiming’s eyes were rimmed red; he roared like an enraged beast. “Do you mean to praise every day and gloss over reality like you? Or bury your head in old books as if the world is fine?”

His gaze cut like a blade toward Su Ming, who had just come in from outside.

Su Ming paused.

Looking at Zhang Yiming’s crazed state, he said nothing, simply stepped over the broken porcelain.

To Zhang Yiming, that silence was the ultimate contempt.

“Su Ming!” Zhang Yiming howled, “Do you dare say you have no opinion about this war? Have you fed your teacher Zhou Wenhai’s integrity to the dogs?”

It was no longer mockery but naked humiliation.

The tea room went silent.

All eyes fixed on Su Ming.

He stopped, turned, and looked at Zhang Yiming calmly.

There was no anger or embarrassment on his face—only tranquility.

“Brother Zhang,” he said softly but clearly, so everyone could hear, “you have spoken out of turn.”

With that he ignored Zhang Yiming and walked out of the tea room.

“You… stand still!” Zhang Yiming trembled with rage and tried to chase him, but others held him back.

“Coward! Hypocrite!”

Zhang Yiming’s shout echoed down the empty corridor.

Su Ming’s steps did not falter.

When he returned to his seat, however, his pen-holding hand had paler knuckles.

Night deepened.

Su Ming’s small courtyard was silent.

He sat cross-legged in the center, palms facing upward, breathing slowly.

Suddenly his eyelids flickered.

He “heard” it.

On the roof of the house across the alley, two people sat like night owls, motionless.

Their breathing was long and steady; they were clearly trained practitioners.

Their gaze was fixed on his courtyard.

Su Ming’s breath did not change at all, as if he sensed nothing.

“Master.”

“Yes, I see them too.” Lin Yu’s voice carried a trace of gravity. “The Marquis Manor’s scouts indeed came. It seems Xu Qing’s petition has alerted them. They are verifying whether you are connected to this matter.”

Su Ming slowly concluded his practice, stood, and—as always—went inside, extinguished the lamp, and lay down to sleep.

Only in the darkness his eyes were bright as frost.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep