Chapter 51: Too Clever by Half

The Sixth Prince, the Prince of Jin, was inwardly nursing a bitter smile at that moment.

He had never expected things to develop into such a state.

He Chongan was truly an unyielding and reckless fool.

Ever since the Fengyu Firm had grown to its current scale, it had encountered countless similar incidents, and the Prince of Jin had always handled them the same way. Second Master Pei had also dealt with such matters more than once. They had always been quietly smoothed over and settled.

Who could have guessed that at the Marquis Wuning’s estate, it would turn into an unyielding wall of iron.

Had he known in advance that things would turn out this way, he would have gladly handed the Fengyu Firm over to the He family.

When the He family leaned toward the Zheng family, he had already sensed that things were slipping out of his control.

Therefore, he had swiftly made a clean cut.

Yet, he still had not anticipated that He Chongan would actually uncover this matter.

His gaze swept across his brothers, and he thought to himself, "I wonder who helped this reckless blockhead He Chongan."

The Prince of Jin knew that even with his strict secrecy, it was impossible not to leak a single trace of wind.

But how far had the news spread?

He Chongan did not possess the capability to investigate this clearly on his own; someone must have assisted him.

However, saying anything at this moment was utterly useless.

Stepping out of the ranks and bowing, the Prince of Jin said, "This subject son acknowledges his wrong."

"Ah. What wrong do you acknowledge?"

Avoiding the heavy and dwelling on the light, the Prince of Jin replied, "This subject son dispatched household retainers to engage in commerce, contending with the common people for profit."

"Is that so?" Emperor Jiacheng remarked, "Old Sixth, your annual stipend as a prince is hardly meager, I recall. What do you use to earn so much additional silver?"

The Prince of Jin said, "This subject son begs the Imperial Father's forgiveness. This subject son is simply too fond of theatrical performances, so much so that he exhausted his entire estate stipend. With no other choice, he had to find ways to engage in trade to subsidize his household expenses. I beg the Imperial Father's understanding."

The Prince of Jin remained extremely calm.

What did he want silver for?

That was exceedingly clear.

Following the case of the rebellious Crown Prince, the position of Crown Prince had been left vacant.

As the eldest among all the princes, even if he had no desire to contend for it, others would not let him go.

To seize the嫡 succession, what was most important?

Silver.

What enterprise did not require silver?

Winning over people required silver, planting informants required silver. Gathering manpower required silver, and retainers willing to die for their cause all cost silver.

Furthermore, the Emperor appeared to be at the very zenith of his health and vigor, meaning the struggle for the succession would likely be a protracted war. The Prince of Jin dared not make any rash moves on his own initiative, so he naturally accumulated wealth. One always regrets having too little silver when the time comes to spend it. Taking advantage of the present moment, no amount of hoarded silver was ever excessive.

All of this was known to the Prince of Jin.

And he believed it could not be concealed either.

He could only brazen it out. When all was said and done, the Prince of Jin had merely been raking in silver without committing any other treasonous acts. A fierce tiger does not eat its own cubs. He believed that an Imperial Father who had already executed several sons could not possibly slaughter all of his own imperial offspring.

This was the best method the Prince of Jin could devise.

He was gambling that the Imperial Father would not kill him.

"Then what is the explanation regarding the Duke of Ningguo's estate?"

By pulling Pei Zhao into the fold, the Prince of Jin had naturally intended to draw the Duke of Ningguo's estate to his side. He had kept it hidden from the Duke of Ningguo, Pei Fu, and the Heir Apparent, Pei Xuan, precisely because Pei Fu was an old fox, and Pei Xuan understood the weight of matters clearly.

Naturally, they would not easily fall into a trap.

Only Pei Zhao, that renowned Second Master Pei outside these walls, was practically an abandoned scion of the family who failed to grasp the gravity of situations.

The imperial household maintained close ties with the founding nobility, and throughout successive dynasties, daughters of the founding nobility had married into the imperial family. It was entirely normal for imperial princes to have various private associations with the scions of the founding nobility.

The Prince of Jin's original intention had been to first trick Pei Zhao onto his ship, and at a critical juncture, force the Duke of Ningguo to discover that his household was already hopelessly entangled. By that time, the Duke of Ningguo would have no choice but to walk down that single dark path to the end.

Alas, the matter had come to light.

This affair was something he could under no circumstances admit to.

The Prince of Jin stated, "This subject son merely asked Second Pei to help with a favor; of all other matters, this subject son is completely unaware. As for treason and rebellion? This subject son would never dare harbor such a wolfish and treacherous heart. I beg the Imperial Father to examine this with brilliant clarity."

With the Prince of Jin refusing to admit guilt, the pressure shifted entirely to the Duke of Ningguo.

Emperor Jiacheng looked toward the Duke of Ningguo and asked, "Lord Pei, do you have anything to say?"

The Duke of Ningguo looked as though he had countless words he wished to utter, yet not a single one could pass his lips.

What could he say? What could he say that would be of any use? Once yellow clay falls into one's trousers, even if it isn't shit, it becomes shit.

The Duke of Ningguo, Pei Fu, could only kowtow and say, "Your Majesty, this aged subject has served Your Majesty for decades. Your Majesty knows what kind of person this subject is. A heart of rebellion—this subject would never dare harbor it. I implore Your Majesty to examine this with clear sight."

Emperor Jiacheng leisurely poured himself a cup of wine, as if having spoken too much, and slightly moistened his throat. Only then did he calmly say, "Old Sixth, as my son, I grant that you would never dare to commit treason. But as an imperial prince, you failed to set a personal example, indulging in arrogance and luxury instead. You are sentenced to one hundred days of confinement."

The core of Emperor Jiacheng's punishment for the Prince of Jin lay not in the specific penalty, but in the accompanying judgment.

Arrogance and luxury.

Those four characters.

Within the framework of Confucian discourse, this nailed the Prince of Jin's moral standing firmly to the pillar of shame.

The implication was clear: how could such a person ever hope to rule the realm?

Was the Prince of Jin not trying to seize the succession?

Was the Prince of Jin not revered by the scholarly community precisely because he was the eldest of the princes?

Emperor Jiacheng was deliberately destroying the Prince of Jin's reputation.

The Prince of Jin secretly breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he had survived the ordeal, though he had paid a harrowing price.

Yet, his heart was filled with bitter reluctance.

As the eldest of the princes, he should rightfully have been named Crown Prince according to ancestral lineage laws. Emperor Jiacheng's judgment today was a clear declaration to the entire world: I will not establish the Prince of Jin.

The Prince of Jin thought to himself, "Imperial Father, on what grounds? According to ancestral laws, I should rightfully be the Crown Prince."

Yet he could only say, "This subject son obeys the imperial decree."

"Duke of Ningguo, the Eight Founding Dukes share the fortunes of the state for all eternity. I trust that you are not muddle-headed like the Duke of Anguo, and that you would not stoop to treasonous acts. It is simply that you have grown old. The affairs of your household are in utter chaos, and only after things have reached such a pass do you finally realize what has been happening. You have deeply disappointed Us."

Emperor Jiacheng's gaze toward the Duke of Ningguo was ice-cold, resembling nothing so much as a man looking at refuse.

"However, the court has decreed that the Eight Founding Dukes share the fortunes of the state forever; We will not treat your Pei family unfairly. Did the Duke of Anguo Chen family not pass down their lineage as well? Do you understand?"

The Duke of Anguo's family was the noble house most deeply implicated in the rebellious Crown Prince case.

The Crown Princess was the daughter of the Duke of Anguo, and the Duke had naturally supported his son-in-law.

Consequently, Emperor Jiacheng had slaughtered the direct lineage of the Duke of Anguo down to the last root. Yet, hypocritically invoking the principle of the Eight Founding Dukes sharing the state's fortunes forever, he had plucked a branch from a distant collateral line of the Duke of Anguo's family to inherit the peerage.

Yet, after such turmoil, the current Duke of Anguo possessed virtually nothing.

He was no different from an idle aristocrat.

"This subject understands," the Duke of Ningguo replied in a low, strengthless tone, as though some vital essence had been violently ripped away from his body.

He Chongan did not entirely understand.

In today's shifting landscape, there were far too many things He Chongan failed to comprehend.

"This is because I am too far removed from the centers of power, resulting in a lack of intelligence, especially an inadequate understanding of the current Emperor. Fortunately, the outcome is acceptable."

Why had He Chongan pursued this matter?

It was simply to protect the coal briquette business.

Having gone through this chaotic ordeal, He Chongan dared guarantee that throughout the entire capital, and indeed the entire northern region, no one would dare contend with the He family for this enterprise. As long as none of the high nobility dared to meddle,

He Chongan was confident that, with his own operational acumen, he could turn this business into a venture that raked in thousands of pieces of gold daily.

From then on, he would never need to worry about silver again.

However, He Chongan never expected that the Emperor would suddenly turn his gaze toward him and declare, "He Chongan, the Prince of Jin and the Duke of Ningguo were merely engaging in some trade; how can you speak of treason and rebellion? You are driving a wedge between the father and son of the imperial house! What else do you have to say for yourself?"