Meng Jiuning closed her eyes, knowing she couldn't hide it any longer.
He stepped forward, gritting his teeth, and said, "Your Highness, please investigate. This was Jiuning's idea."
"His Highness is usually unfathomable. Jiuning was in Great Yan time and felt uneasy, which is why she did such a foolish thing."
"Whether you kill or punish, punish Jiuning alone; it has nothing to do with Sister Yue'er."
"Should we impose a fine?"
Gu Moran softly.
"Princess Dali's life is precious; I intend to exchange you and Dali for the mining rights to three copper mines on the southern route."
"Killing you would be a losing proposition."
Meng Jiuning's face paled slightly, but she did not argue further.
Gu Moran opened the drawer beside him, took out two stacks of Xuan paper and a thick account book, and slammed them onto the table.
" Su Yao obtained a copy from an informant in the Southern Territory yesterday."
"This is the tax revenue record for the past three years for the Dali, over eight hundred pages long, with quite a few bad debts."
He pointed to the account book, which was about half a foot thick, and looked at Meng Jiuning.
"Since Princess Meng has such boundless energy, she will check it for me tonight."
"Every deficit, and every person involved, was marked in red ink."
Gu Moran picked up the ginseng soup and pushed it in front of her.
"If the calculations aren't finished before dawn, Princess Meng will drink every last drop of this calming and purging soup."
"I also want to know just how much private money the Dali royal family has hidden away."
Meng Jiuning stared at the ledger, a chill running down her spine.
Having grown up in the inner palace, she was still capable of handling singing, dancing, and poetry.
This kind of dense, dizzying chronicle is more torturous than being punished.
As for you.
Gu Moran turned to Yun Shuyue.
Yun Shuyue shrugged, her eyes red as she looked up at him.
Gu Moran picked up the stack of Xuan paper on the right and threw it into her arms.
"These are the Thousand Character Classic and the Great Yan Law: Household and Marriage Ordinance."
"Copy each one three times tonight, and then memorize the first two."
"I will personally check tomorrow morning. For every single mistake, three slaps on the hand and a deduction of fifty coins from your monthly salary."
"Ah?"
Yun Shuyue, holding the Xuan paper, was completely stunned.
She usually studies with Xie Wanqing for two hours, and then she's so sleepy she can barely keep her eyes open.
Copying thousands of words three times would surely ruin your fingers.
"What, do you think the punishment was too harsh?"
"Not heavy at all!"
Yun Shuyue hurriedly shook her head, hugged the Xuan paper tightly, and ran to the side table.
" Yue'er, I'll copy it right away!"
She was afraid that Gu Moran would change his mind and make her drink the ginseng soup as well.
Meng Jiuning stood there, unsure whether to leave or stay.
"What are you still standing there for, Princess Meng?"
Gu Moran said calmly, "Do you want me to grind the ink for you myself?"
Meng Jiuning took a deep breath, suppressing the humiliation and anger in her chest.
He walked to another table, sat down, pulled over the account book, and started using the abacus.
The crackling sound of the beads quickly filled the study.
The Xuan paper turned over, and the candle wick occasionally burst open with a tiny spark.
As night fell, the north wind rattled against the windowpanes.
Gu Moran shifted into a more comfortable position, holding the soothing and lung-nourishing tea that Shen Ling'er had brought him, and slowly flipped through the military books.
Yun Shuyue wrote for half an hour, and her wrists were already sore and trembling.
She was so sleepy that her head was nodding off, and the pen tip almost left a long ink mark on the paper.
Gu Moran the table lightly twice.
Yun Shuyue jolted awake, quickly sat up straight, and continued copying.
Meng Jiuning's situation wasn't much better.
The ledgers were filled with a jumble of entries: fortress repairs, military rations transport, horse losses—everything could be manipulated.
At first, she thought Gu Moran was just playing a trick on her with fake accounts.
It wasn't until she turned to the third book that she saw the secret mark of the Southern Front Transport Office under a piece of military rations transit money that had been altered.
The secret mark was only recognized by the Dali Transport Office.
Meng Jiuning's hands, which were moving the abacus, stopped.
The accounts are genuine.
Moreover, the deficit in the accounts was deeper than she had imagined.
She looked up at Gu Moran, who was sitting at the head of the table.
The man was turning a page of a military treatise, his expression relaxed, as if he already knew what she would see.
Meng Jiuning gritted her teeth and continued calculating with her head down.
This prince is even more formidable than she imagined.
That night.
The lights in the study of Prince Yi's Residence's mansion remained on.
Su Yao and Shen Ling'er each came to urge Gu Moran once, and after understanding what had happened, they smiled and left.
As the sky began to lighten with the first hint of Yun Shuyue stood before a pile of copied calligraphy models.
Meng Jiuning finally added her last annotation in red ink to the last page of the ledger.
The two slumped in their chairs, too weak to even lift their arms.
Gu Moran closed the military book, got up and walked to the two tables.
He casually flipped through Yun Shuyue's calligraphy practice book and then checked the accounts marked by Meng Jiuning.
"The handwriting is a bit ugly, but at least I finished copying it."
The accounts were done rather carelessly.
Gu Moran picked up one of the pages, her gaze falling on the amount of money for military rations transiting through the border.
"What did Princess Meng see in this?"
Meng Jiuning pursed her lips, not answering immediately.
Gu Moran didn't urge him, he just waved his hand.
"Alright, clean up the table, go back to sleep."
"If you dare add anything to my soup again..."
He sneered, his gaze sweeping over the two men's aching wrists.
"I will have Su Yao bring two more boxes of account books."
Yun Shuyue and Meng Jiuning felt as if they had been granted a pardon. They didn't even bother with formalities and helped each other out of the study.
At the Anyang Northern Grand Camp, the cold morning wind whipped up the white frost on the flagpoles.
The crimson banner fluttered in the wind, its corner striking the air with a crisp crack.
Wearing a crimson python robe embroidered with gold thread and with the imperial Dragon Well Sword hanging at his waist, Gu Mochen ascended the command platform step by step.
His eyes were bloodshot, and his throat was so dry and painful.
The foreign medicine burned in his stomach, causing his temples to throb.
The military formation before me swayed slightly in the morning light.
"Clang!"
The Dragon Well Sword was half-drawn from its sheath.
The sword's edge reflected the gloomy sky, its chill penetrating to the eye.
"On the first day of next month, the vanguard will break through the four gates and advance into the pass!"
Gu Mochen raised his sword and pointed it northward, his voice hoarse.
"Purge the court of corrupt officials!"
The sound crossed the drill ground, the wind whistled through the armor plates, and the military flag swayed against the flagpole.
Three thousand armored soldiers stood in a square formation, their spears planted straight into the mud.
No one answered the order.
No one raised an army.
Gu Mochen's grip on the sword tightened little by little.
A breath passed.
Two breaths passed.
There was still no "yes" from the audience.
The rage in his chest suddenly surged to the top of his head. He turned around, grabbed the messenger by the collar, and slammed him onto the wooden board.
Are you deaf?
The messenger, his face covered in mud and water, stumbled to his feet, his forehead pressed against a wooden board.
He was trembling all over, but dared not look at the drumsticks.
At the very front of the formation, Wei Yong, the Commandant of the Vanguard, slowly raised his head.
This face, etched with wrinkles by time and hardship, showed no sign of panic.
He pointed back at the armory at the rear of the camp.
The two large cast-iron gates were over two zhang (approximately 6.6 meters) high.
Four iron lock bars were welded to the door in a crisscross pattern, and the seams still bore the bluish-black marks left by the casting of pig iron.
The governor's seal was pressed in the center of the seal, next to the Ministry of War's official seal.
"Your Highness, please calm your anger."