Chapter 93

Duke Ningxuan’s Shizi seldom showed himself in public. Before this year, the impression that the young noblemen in the capital had of him was merely a name occasionally mentioned by Rong Zheng or others.

And this name was typically accompanied by certain labels—

Fool, sickly invalid, doomed to die young…

Such was the image that the heir of Duke Ningxuan was supposed to project.

Yet here in the grandeur of Shaohua Hall, on New Year’s Eve, amidst the transition from the old to the new, the dances had ended, and the hall shimmered in golden splendour. The Emperor and Empress sat in majestic silence, while the officials conducted themselves with utmost decorum. Rong Tang stood at the front of the hall, his frail form seemingly ready to be blown over by the slightest breeze. After speaking a few words, he couldn’t suppress a soft cough. It took all his strength to complete his speech, and once he finished, a heavy silence enveloped the room.

Everyone was still—either because they hadn’t heard him clearly or because they were stunned by what they had heard.

Senior Official Zhang and several others instinctively shifted their gaze to Rong Mingyu, casting him more than a few glances of doubt and contemplation.

How could this child once thought to be foolish now appear so clear-headed?

Why had Duke Ningxuan’s house once backed an heir who seemed destined for an early death?

Whispers of suspicion began to stir, wondering if Rong Mingyu had hidden motives, using Rong Tang to distract others.

Yet after finishing his speech, Rong Tang stood respectfully below, his gaze fixed on a section of the Emperor’s golden dragon robe. The customs of court demanded he not look directly at the Emperor’s face.

He had seen this robe many times.

Both Emperor Renshou and Su Huaijing had worn it.

The latter fit it much better than the former.

Emperor Renshou sat at the main seat, frowning slightly as he scrutinised Rong Tang in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Then his gaze returned to Ke Hongxue and Sheng Chengming. After surveying the hall, he finally spoke, his voice low: “A reward is due.”

Rong Mingyu showed no visible reaction, but his face suggested he had just breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He stood, walked to Rong Tang’s side, and pulled him down to kneel on the cold floor, the sound of their knees striking the stone echoing through the hall.

Su Huaijing’s expression instantly hardened, his fingers curling into a gentle fist.

Rong Mingyu declared loudly, “My son is ignorant, but he is fortunate to still possess some goodness in his heart. To share the Emperor’s burdens and contribute to the people is his great fortune. How dare we seek any reward from Your Majesty? Please, Your Majesty, do not indulge him.”

[He’s cursing you to die early.] The system suddenly reappeared.

Rong Tang was startled but smiled inwardly: “Weren’t you hibernating?”

System: [I’ve woken up.]

Rong Tang chuckled, but instead of refuting it, he said, “It’s not like Rong Mingyu just started hoping for my death yesterday.”

The term “good fortune” was usually used for elders, implying that the blessings accumulated in this life might be repaid in the next. For someone just turning twenty, like Rong Tang, to be described as having accumulated merit was simply a way of reiterating that he wouldn’t live long.

The system fumed: [He’s abhorrent!]

“Pay him no mind,” Rong Tang murmured, turning his gaze eastwards.

He had initially wanted to check if Wang Xiuyu felt upset by Rong Mingyu’s words, but instead, his eyes met with Su Huaijing’s unusual expression.

Or rather, his lack of expression.

Su Huaijing was angry—this much Rong Tang immediately knew.

When their gazes briefly locked, Su Huaijing’s expression softened, as if he feared he might frighten Rong Tang.

Rong Tang furrowed his brow slightly. While his parents spoke to the Emperor, he could not interrupt. Yet, though Rong Mingyu’s words didn’t faze him, both Wang Xiuyu and Su Huaijing were clearly displeased, and he longed to put a stop to it.

He considered for a moment, steeling himself to speak. But before he could, Ke Hongxue interjected with a smile: “Prince Rong serves the nation with such integrity and commitment that even the ancient sages might be envious of his resolve.”

Rong Tang: “……”

Quietly, he relaxed the straight posture he had just assumed, finding a more comfortable position to kneel in, and resigned himself to listening to Ke Hongxue.

After finishing his praise, Ke Hongxue’s tone shifted: “I beg your pardon for asking, but did the Shizi report to his family about the funds and provisions donated to the disaster areas?”

Rong Mingyu seemed puzzled, unsure why Ke Hongxue had involved himself.

However, the Ke family held a prominent position in the capital, enough to command respect from even Emperor Renshou. Rong Mingyu had to give him some face.

But now Rong Mingyu was kneeling, and Ke Hongxue was standing. To respond directly would breach court etiquette, and both could be criticised.

Emperor Renshou impatiently raised his hand: “I said the floor is cold. Everyone rise.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Rong Mingyu said, rising. He turned to Ke Hongxue and responded: “Such trivial matters are left to Tang’er’s discretion; no need to report them to me.”

Ke Hongxue chuckled: “As I suspected. But, my lord, do you truly know how much silver the Shizi has spent on disaster relief?”

Rong Mingyu frowned but remained silent, while Rong Tang subtly edged back.

Ke Hongxue continued: “Just in grain alone, we’ve accounted for ten thousand dan of rice, ten carts of medicinal herbs, and thousands of bolts of cloth, not to mention the real gold and silver delivered in banknotes to Suzhou after the disaster.”

He paused, then added with a smile: “I only happened to pass by and did not fully investigate. Perhaps His Second Highness has the details?”

Sheng Chengming took the cue, nodding immediately: “The total value amounts to thirty thousand taels of silver. All records have been kept.”

Rong Tang, who had been too ill during the flood in Jiangnan to pay attention to how much money he had spent, was startled by the figure and turned to Su Huaijing in surprise.

The latter gave him a reassuring nod, indicating everything was under control.

[……] The system’s static buzzed for a long moment: [Did he anticipate this six months ago?]

Rong Tang, equally amazed, muttered: “Probably not.”

When Ke Hongxue had mentioned him earlier, Su Huaijing had also shown a brief flash of surprise. It seemed this development had not been part of his plan.

The real drama the antagonist wanted would only unfold gradually, starting today. But before that, Tutor Ke appeared to be fishing for a little early reward for Rong Tang.

Ke Hongxue said: “Thirty thousand taels of silver—an amount even a first-rank official would have to serve the dynasty for thirty years to amass. Yet the Shizi, a mere youth, can casually produce such a sum. It’s quite astonishing.”

Though the Yu Dynasty was prosperous, official salaries were fixed, and those in the court couldn’t live solely on their wages. But when Ke Hongxue translated these numbers into years, it underscored the gravity of the situation.

Though Rong Tang was titled as Duke Ningxuan’s heir, he had no actual power or rank, and any rewards from the palace were little more than token gifts. He had no official source of income.

Yet after one trip south, he had easily produced thirty thousand taels of silver. Not only had Duke Ningxuan confirmed that this decision was entirely up to him, but he had also declined the Emperor’s offer of a reward. This led many to wonder just how wealthy Duke Ningxuan’s household really was… and how much of that wealth was accumulated through less-than-honest means.

Emperor Renshou, already inclined towards suspicion, now had a thorn lodged in his heart, courtesy of Ke Hongxue’s seemingly offhand remark.

Rong Tang had been a fool for many years, still young and not yet part of the court. Given Rong Mingyu’s insistence that he would not live long and needed to accumulate merit, his actions could be dismissed as ignorant.

But what about Rong Mingyu?

Where did his immense wealth come from?

Those present, who were unaware of the full picture, almost thought that Tutor Ke was attacking Rong Tang as a means of targeting Rong Mingyu. Even Sheng Chengming, upon hearing this, was so shocked that he hid his expression, his hands unconsciously clenching into fists beneath his sleeves.

Meanwhile, on Rong Tang’s side, Mu Jingxu, having listened to Ke Hongxue’s words, quietly shook his head, poured out the now-cold tea from the other side of the table into the basin, and refilled the cup, placing it aside to await Ke Hongxue’s return.

Su Huaijing remained composed, his gaze periodically falling on the dust that had gathered on the hem of Rong Tang’s robe, an unpleasant sight.

As for Rong Tang?

If it weren’t for the fact that he couldn’t confirm the truth behind this situation, he would have pretended to be panicked and used it as another chance to trip up Rong Mingyu.

Everyone in the hall had their own thoughts, each harbouring hidden motives. The emperor remained silent for a long time, and no one dared to break the oppressive quiet. It wasn’t until the Second Prince’s birth mother, Concubine Yi, softly groaned, clutching her stomach.

Emperor Renshou’s attention was diverted. Immediately, a maid beside Concubine Yi stepped forward to bow and said, “Your Majesty, the concubine must take her prenatal medicine.”

Concubine Yi’s belly was already visibly swollen, larger than that of a typical five-month pregnancy. Emperor Renshou’s gaze softened as it landed on her belly, a trace of paternal concern appearing on his face: “Be careful and help the concubine down.”

Concubine Yi lifted a white porcelain cup from the table, bowed gracefully, and said, “I offer a tea toast in place of wine, wishing Your Majesty good health and eternal blessings.”

The Emperor lifted his cup and drank a sip in return. Only then did Concubine Yi withdraw, with the crowd rising to see her off. When they sat back down, the previously tense atmosphere had relaxed slightly.

Rong Mingyu said naturally, “Since Tang’er was born, Her Royal Highness the Eldest Princess gifted him several shops, and his maternal family also presented him with a few estates. Furthermore, he has his rightful share in our household, as well as the treasures that His Majesty, the Empress Dowager, and Her Majesty the Empress bestow upon him every year. Thirty thousand taels of silver is indeed a large amount, but not impossible to gather. Why should Tutor Ke be so astonished?”

He paused for a moment and continued, “When it comes to family wealth, who in the world doesn’t know that the richest man in Jiangnan is your father?”

Mu Jingxu’s face slightly stiffened, and he furrowed his brows, casting a glance at Rong Mingyu.

Rong Tang inwardly sneered, once again affirming that the original novel’s description of Duke Ningxuan was spot on.

Ke Hongxue had brought up the Duke’s wealth, intending to sow doubt in Emperor Renshou’s mind about Rong Mingyu. However, not only did Rong Mingyu deftly shift the responsibility onto others, but he also managed to step on Ke Hongxue in the process.

Everyone knew just how wealthy the Ke family truly was.

“As expected of Emperor Renshou’s dog,” Rong Tang sneered to the system.

Biting anyone they came across.

[Indeed.]

Ke Hongxue didn’t seem fazed by the subtle rebuke, merely smiling gracefully. “What Your Lordship says is true, indeed it is my own lack of insight. However, my grandfather and father always taught me that it is easier to create wealth than to preserve it. Therefore, I am a well-known layman when it comes to money matters, and I think that being frugal where I can ensures that I do not squander the fortune passed down by my forebears. I meant no offence by my query, merely reflecting on this notion.”

[Is he hinting at the Emperor?] The system asked.

Rong Tang: “Yes.”

Not to mention the contributions that the Ke family made to Dayu every year, historically, the intertwining of officials and merchants was well-known. However, expecting an official to engage in commerce would only backfire.

Ke Xuebo’s natural talent for business and Ke Wenrui’s status as a renowned scholar ensured that no matter which emperor sat on the throne, they would have to show respect to the Ke family.

After the events of the twenty-fifth year of Yuanxing, the Ke family had decisively stood by the side of the new emperor. At a time when the empire was in ruins, had it not been for Ke Xuebo’s generous support, Emperor Renshou’s enthronement ceremony might have been a paltry affair.

Ke Hongxue’s words didn’t just imply that creating wealth is easier than maintaining it; he was also subtly stating that a declining ruler is easy to serve, while maintaining the stability of a prosperous reign is a much harder task.

Ke Hongxue intended to be the one who maintained his family’s wealth, and since the Ke family supported the Emperor, it was clear that in Ke Hongxue’s eyes, Emperor Renshou was the true guardian of this stability.

He didn’t need to defend himself further. Simply clarifying his position and offering a subtle nudge to Emperor Renshou would be enough to ensure that the Emperor would understand his meaning without further explanation.

The Ke family’s unwavering loyalty would never be tiresome to Emperor Renshou. In fact, the more loyal, the better.

Emperor Renshou loved listening to the praise of officials, and when Ke Hongxue offered such subtle yet heartfelt flattery, he was bound to be pleased once he grasped its meaning.

Sure enough, as soon as Rong Tang finished his thoughts, a low murmur came from the platform: “It is easier to create wealth than to preserve it……”

The emperor pondered, and no one dared to respond.

In a moment, perhaps a mere instant, Emperor Renshou clapped his hands and laughed, gazing at Ke Hongxue. “It is easier to create wealth than to preserve it. Hanying’s words are spot on! Even if your maternal family and Aunt gifted Tang’er vast amounts of wealth, it wasn’t given to him to deplete on my behalf.”

He turned towards Rong Tang, directly cutting off Rong Mingyu’s words, his expression warm. “Tang’er, you have done well this time, proving your yimu’s praises about your intelligence and quick wit. Yifu wishes to thank you for it. The thirty thousand taels you’ve spent on disaster relief, I shall return double!”

Rong Tang was about to kneel to offer his thanks, but the Emperor raised his hand. “Hold on. This is a repayment, not a reward—no need to rush your gratitude.”

Empress Wang quickly interjected, “That is quite enough.”

But Emperor Renshou shook his head. “Aai, how could that possibly be enough? Have the Ministry of Internal Affairs draft an edict. All rewards to Ningxuan Shizi shall be according to the standards for a prince.”

“Aye,” replied the chief eunuch.

Only then did Rong Tang kneel and kowtow to express his thanks.

Emperor Renshou smiled and motioned for him to rise. His hawk-like gaze swept over the hall, and he asked, “Tang’er was married this year, wasn’t he? Where is the Shizi Fei?”

The author has something to say:

Ah Xue: Here’s a joke—I’m frugal (squints and smiles)—Currency here doesn’t withstand scrutiny; it’s all imaginary, imaginary, imaginary! (Important things are repeated three times.) “A Declining Monarch”: Refers to a ruler whose reign leads the nation into decay and decline.