Disappearance and a Sea Dyed with Blood

The Ministry of Revenue is a hornet's nest. The Censorate and Adrian Dongling have stirred it up, and it's not something they can simply walk away from. Given how high-profile Adrian was at the start, exposing all the Ministry's problems, if he now claims there's nothing wrong, not even the Ministry's own people would believe it.

As the audit drags on, more and more officials are implicated. At last, prompted by a minor clerk, Adrian remembers the ten thousand taels of silver that ultimately ended up in his own pocket.

Adrian’s face turns green and purple. Surrounded by the audit team, drawn from all departments, he’s furious but can’t vent, so he just mutters an order: “Everyone rest for today.”

The officials on the audit team have lost all their initial momentum. One by one, they shuffle out of the Ministry of Revenue like wilted eggplants—no energy, no spirit. Even Adrian is no longer strutting around; worry is written all over his face.

Adrian wishes he could just fall ill like Minister Cao and ignore everything, but he can’t. He has to see this through.

Ten thousand taels—so far, the largest single sum. Just thinking about it gives Adrian a headache. He never imagined that after all this digging, they’d find no fault with Ninth Royal Uncle, but would expose his own mistake, right in front of everyone. He’s lost nearly all his dignity, inside and out.

Requesting silver from the Ministry of Revenue under various pretexts is routine for the Six Ministries, and the Ministry rarely complains—the ledgers always look fine. But this time, somehow, everything has been uncovered.

Adrian is anxious, unsure how to report to the Emperor. But this is too big to hide, so he steels himself and writes a memorial. When the Emperor finishes reading, he hurls it straight at Adrian’s face.

"My good son, my good minister." Of course the Emperor is angry, but not as furious as Adrian expected. After a few harsh words, he sends Adrian away to continue the investigation.

The next morning at court, the Emperor says nothing at all. Anyone who brings up the Ministry of Revenue’s accounts is brushed off. This attitude terrifies the officials—they have no idea what the Emperor is planning.

Every Eastlyn official is on edge. Each day, more of them visit Minister Cao’s residence, hoping he’ll come out and restore order. If this goes on, at least half the bureaucracy will collapse.

But Minister Cao claims illness and refuses to see anyone. The Emperor tacitly allows things to keep unraveling. Until Adrian receives an imperial edict, he has to keep digging—and report every day.

The Emperor collects all the memorials but shows no sign of punishing anyone. With Minister Cao still feigning illness and refusing even imperial summons, everyone grows more uneasy—officials are restless and agitated.

Faced with this deadlock, the Emperor says nothing, just keeps stalling. Officials grow more anxious; the mood is unsettled. Felix Fuller, seeing things worsen, carefully asks, "Your Majesty, should we keep investigating the Ministry of Revenue?"

"Investigate. Why wouldn’t we?" The Emperor snorts, clearly displeased. Felix isn’t intimidated and presses on: "Your Majesty, if the water is too clear, there will be no fish. If we keep digging into the Ministry, everyone will be on edge. Without your guidance, the officials can’t settle down."

The Emperor’s stance is ambiguous, leaving officials unable to do their jobs. If this continues, Eastlyn will truly descend into chaos.

"If I don’t take down the Ministry of Revenue, I can’t sleep easy." The Emperor makes no effort to hide his intentions from Felix.

The Ministry is a muddy mess, and its minister can’t escape blame. The Emperor is waiting—waiting for Minister Cao to come out. As soon as Cao pleads guilty, the Emperor will use it as an excuse to fire him and seize control of the Ministry himself.

Using Ninth Royal Uncle’s three hundred thousand taels as a pretext to attack the Ministry—if they find fault with him, great; if not, the Emperor will still use the scandal to take over. After all these years, there’s no way the Ministry is clean.

But what the Emperor didn’t expect is this: not only is the Ministry dirty, the entire Eastlyn government is, too. The Ministry has dragged all six ministries into the mud. The crisis keeps escalating, but he can’t back out now—if he does, all his efforts will have been for nothing.

Felix Fuller is no fool. The Emperor has made himself perfectly clear, and Felix understands his meaning at once. He says, "Minister Cao has been ill for so long—I should pay him a visit. May I have Your Majesty’s permission?"

He’s offering to persuade Minister Cao on the Emperor’s behalf—hoping to get that stubborn old man to step out and calm the storm.

"Granted!" The Emperor’s tense face finally relaxes into a faint smile. His chief eunuch, seeing the Emperor in good spirits, quickly steps up to announce that a favored beauty in the inner palace has made soup for him.

Satisfied, the Emperor goes to enjoy the beauty’s favor. He’s barely taken a sip when an urgent report arrives. Dropping everything, he rushes to the imperial study, opens the dispatch, and immediately coughs up blood, collapsing onto the Dragon Throne.

"Imperial physician! Quick, summon the imperial physician—the Emperor has fainted!" The panicked eunuchs and maids rush forward, helping the Emperor onto his bed.

The Emperor’s chief eunuch picks up the urgent dispatch, glances at it, and reads: The Southern Ocean Fleet has encountered pirates—thirty warships and twenty thousand sailors are missing!

As the Emperor’s chief eunuch, he knows the truth: those twenty thousand sailors were sent, by secret imperial order, to kill Ninth Royal Uncle at sea. But none of them came back.

No wonder the Emperor collapsed in shock. The chief eunuch quickly puts the report away, not daring to read further.

After the incident, the Southern Ocean Fleet searched the area but found nothing—the sea was calm and empty. The dispatched sailors, and Ninth Royal Uncle, simply vanished.

Of course, neither Ninth Royal Uncle, nor those thirty warships and twenty thousand sailors, could have all sunk. Aside from the destroyed ships and dead soldiers, the rest were captured by Ninth Royal Uncle and taken to his island as spoils of war.

Ninth Royal Uncle chose to fight the imperial navy not just because the sea is good for covering tracks, but also because Eastlyn’s fleet is weak and poorly equipped. Against his specially trained sailors, they stood no chance.

That evening, the sunset painted the sea crimson—a breathtaking sight. The water was peaceful and beautiful, perfect for lounging on deck. But suddenly, waves surged and dozens of warships closed in from all directions, heading straight for Ninth Royal Uncle’s flagship.

"Here they come." Zuo An’s eyes gleam as he cracks his knuckles, looking like he’s been waiting for this moment forever.

"Yes, finally." Ninth Royal Uncle and Serena stand at the bow, their robes and hair whipping in the sea wind.

Ninth Royal Uncle stands with his hands behind his back; Serena smiles. As the warships draw closer, neither shows a hint of fear.

The imperial navy is hopelessly weak. They’ve been waiting for this battle a long time.