Inside the government office, Jia Huan lifted the curtain over the window and called sternly:
"Scholar!"
"Boss!" Scholar hurried inside.
"Look into Gu Sihui, Vice Director of the Ministry of Revenue." Jia Huan was very familiar with that name.
"Give me a moment, Boss." Scholar returned to the adjoining office and brought over a thick bound volume, every stroke of its contents recorded in his own hand.
Jia Huan looked at him approvingly. Scholar was capable and hardworking, another man worth cultivating.
Scholar turned to the Ministry of Revenue tab, cleared his throat, and said with some admiration:
"Gu Sihui is only thirty-five. He entered official service as a successful metropolitan examination candidate and now serves as Vice Director of the Ministry of Revenue, as well as Director of Studies at the Imperial College. He is also a renowned Confucian scholar and master calligrapher, upright and incorruptible. Not only does he donate his salary to impoverished commoners, he often sells his calligraphy and distributes the proceeds to Imperial College students whose homes have nothing but four bare walls."
A smile appeared on Jia Huan's face. A truly influential figure!
"He embezzled disaster relief funds!"
What?
Even Scholar found it hard to believe. He studied the booklet for a long while before murmuring:
"How could anyone maintain such a disguise? When his colleagues urge him not to be so frugal, he often says that suffering people throughout the realm cannot fill their stomachs, and that even having thin porridge and pickles for his three daily meals leaves him ashamed before the people who sustain him."
Jia Huan sneered without a word.
"Oh, Boss, Gu Sihui is also the son-in-law of the Duke of Xiu's Mansion," Scholar reminded him.
"The Duke of Xiu's Mansion?" Even Jia Huan had to admire him. The