Chapter 105

Chapter 105

Throughout the afternoon, Princess Qingyang didn't even glance at the account books Prefect Shang Chibai had prepared. Instead, she focused her inspection on several key locations: the treasury and prison of the Prefectural Office, the two official granaries in Yingyang City, and the city's two largest labor brokerages.

Initially, Shang Chibai and the other officials didn't take the young princess seriously. They assumed her reputation as the top scorer in the palace examination was merely academic, and that she understood little of officialdom's intricate workings. They either forgot or dismissed her childhood visits to various government offices in the Capital as mere childish play, unaware that the princess possessed keen observational skills and an insightful mind capable of discerning the subtle from the obvious.

At the prison, Shang Chibai expected the princess to inquire if the inmates had been wrongfully accused. Instead, she sternly silenced those shouting false claims and then asked about their daily meals. With the princess’s guards closely watching, Shang Chibai and the accompanying officials dared not signal the prisoners, who then truthfully described the three grades of meals provided—upper, middle, and lower.

Why was this the case? Because prisoners came from different backgrounds. Those from wealthy families could bribe the jailers for better meals, while those without power or money could only eat standard prison fare.

Under the princess’s sharp gaze, Shang Chibai began to sweat, earnestly promising to rectify the jailers’ corrupt practice of accepting bribes.

"Water too clear breeds no fish; a man too critical has no friends." Qingyang never expected all officials, whether in the Capital or the provinces, to be saints. What she wanted was for these officials to abandon any thought of deceiving her as if she were a fool. Thus, she had no intention of punishing a Prefect over such a minor matter. Instead, she spoke pointedly: "Bribing jailers to arrange a few better meals is, to some extent, understandable. What I fear is that someone might poison the food to silence a witness, or that jailers might be bribed to extract confessions through torture or even fabricate a suicide. Prefect Shang, do you have any remedies for this?"

The Prefectural Office was vast. While there was only one Prefect, there were over a hundred minor officials and jailers. It was already commendable if the Prefect could maintain his own integrity; expecting him to personally oversee every minor act of corruption among his subordinates was unrealistic—who would then handle the real administrative work?

After a moment’s thought, Shang Chibai proposed: "All meals for detainees and prisoners must be sourced from the Prefectural Office's kitchen. Anyone caught bringing outside food to prisoners will be penalized accordingly—through fines, deductions from pay, dismissal, or criminal charges, depending on the severity."

This way, even if a jailer accepted a bribe, part of it could be used to pay the kitchen staff to prepare better meals for specific prisoners.

Qingyang nodded in approval. She then personally interrogated two death row inmates awaiting execution in the autumn. One had confessed and resigned himself to his fate, while the other protested his innocence. However, the evidence and witness testimonies were solid, and the case showed no signs of doubt. After praising Shang Chibai, Qingyang finally left the pitch-dark prison.

The treasury held tax silver designated for transfer to the imperial court, as well as funds reserved for disaster relief and official repairs within the prefecture. Qingyang meticulously examined the quality of the silver and the dust patterns on the ground and around the silver piles. This helped determine whether the silver had been stored there all along or had been moved in recently.

Though Shang Chibai was not a corrupt official, he was sincerely impressed by the princess’s thoroughness in inspection.

At the granaries, the focus was on the age and storage conditions of the grain. According to imperial regulations, old grain from the previous year should be emptied, sold off, or used for official meals before new grain was brought in each autumn. This ensured the quality of grain reserves for military needs or disaster relief. Corrupt officials might fill the granaries with old or inferior grain while selling the new grain at high prices for personal gain, or even leave the granaries empty. Incompetent officials might neglect proper storage, wasting good grain.

Shang Chibai was both capable and virtuous. Moreover, given Yingyang’s proximity to the Capital, he dared not engage in the practices of corrupt or incompetent officials.

Just as Shang Chibai thought the day’s inspections were nearing an end, the princess expressed her desire to visit the labor brokerages.

Even the Emperor had never visited any labor brokerages during his northern tours. Why would the princess want to go?

Shang Chibai and the others had no choice but to follow the princess to the labor brokerages.

The proprietor of the labor brokerage was even more nervous, fearing that the princess and the Prefect might suspect him of abducting women and children. He proactively offered to show the contracts of purchase and employment for their review.

Qingyang did not put much stock in these documents. Whether officials or merchants, those with something to hide would ensure their records were impeccable, making it difficult to uncover problems in just a day or two—unless one possessed the exceptional auditing skills of someone like Jia Fangping.

Instead, Qingyang randomly selected over a dozen people and asked about their origins and reasons for indenturing themselves. Some said poverty forced them to sell their daughters to pay for a family member’s medical treatment; others claimed to be orphans who never knew their parents; still others said disasters in their hometowns made survival impossible.

Those who cited disasters mostly came from other prefectures or even other provinces. Qingyang made mental notes to later question local officials from those disaster-stricken areas when the opportunity arose. For those from Yingyang Prefecture, she pressed for details on their poverty. When her father ascended the throne, he had distributed land to poor farmers, and a few years later, he forced officials and gentry to return illegally occupied land to the people. If these policies had been properly implemented, it would have been difficult for ordinary people to fall into such dire poverty unless exceptional circumstances arose.

Of course, some cases were beyond the government’s control—such as families ruined by gambling, expensive illnesses, or impulsive crimes requiring compensation. In such situations, the women and children often suffered the most.

After visiting both labor brokerages, Qingyang uncovered clues about a local tyrant in one of the prefecture’s counties who had been oppressing the people.

She turned to Shang Chibai.

With a solemn expression, Shang Chibai said, "I will immediately send someone to investigate and strive to report to His Majesty and Your Highness by tomorrow evening."

Qingyang nodded and dismissed the officials to rest, as dusk was approaching.

Shang Chibai said, "There’s no hurry. We will escort Your Highness back to the official lodge."

Qingyang smiled. "Who said I’m going back?"

The young princess did not return to the official lodge, nor did she tell Shang Chibai and the others where she was going. She simply selected Fan Huaizhong and a dozen plainclothes guards to accompany her as she blended into the bustling streets of Yingyang City’s main thoroughfare.

The prefectural secretary wiped the sweat from his forehead and guessed, "Could the princess be continuing her incognito inspection?"

Shang Chibai eyed him suspiciously. "What if she is? Have you done something to feel guilty about?"

The secretary hurriedly denied it, explaining that while they were usually the ones feared and respected by the people, having nobles in the city made them anxious. They worried that even minor, unavoidable mistakes might draw criticism from the Emperor or cost them their official positions.

Shang Chibai understood the princess’s intentions better. She did not mind minor faults; what she valued was honesty and the willingness to correct mistakes.

"Let’s return to the office first," he said.

They could not control where the princess went. The immediate priority was to investigate the case of the tyrant seizing land from the people and to reflect on their own shortcomings in governance.

.

Qingyang went to a teahouse to listen to storytelling. Yingyang was a large city with bustling trade, and several teahouses thrived.

She chose a smaller teahouse frequented by commoners. Most patrons were local residents who spent a coin or two in the evening for a bowl of coarse tea while chatting idly.

Well-informed commoners already knew the imperial procession had entered the city. They mostly discussed this, speculating about the appearances of the Emperor, princess, and prince, and sharing stories—some true, some false—about the emperor who came from common origins and his policies that benefited the people. Some comments were favorable, while others were not, including derogatory comments about the princess’s involvement in court affairs.

Fan Huaizhong got furious and was about to make a scene when an elderly man with graying hair spoke up: "What’s wrong with the princess participating in court affairs? As long as she has the ability to govern and wants to do good for us common people, what difference does it make if she’s a princess or a prince? In the past, the officials were all men, but did they treat us common people well? They were only interested in promotions, wealth, and women."

"But what if she doesn’t understand anything…"

"The princess started reading at three and topped the palace examination at fifteen—a real number-one scholar! If a top scholar doesn’t understand, do you?"

"We don’t know what the princess understands, but I heard she often went to the Capital Prefecture to listen to cases a few years ago. During that time, the Capital Prefecture handled many long-unresolved wrongful cases. Do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Ha! Because with the princess watching, the Capital Prefecture didn’t dare handle cases perfunctorily. They quickly adjudicated the people’s complaints. A relative of mine in the Capital said that during those years, several commoners managed to successfully accuse oppressive officials thanks to the princess. Even the wayward youth of officials didn’t dare cause trouble recklessly."

"You see? This proves the princess knows what she’s doing. Otherwise, how could a decades-old Capital Prefect fail to fool a teenage girl?"

"The Capital Prefect has been replaced! The previous one did such a good job he was promoted to Vice Minister of Justice!"

Qingyang quietly instructed Fan Huaizhong.

Fan Huaizhong then called out, "Since officials don’t dare slack off where the princess is, shouldn’t the people of Yingyang seize the opportunity of the Emperor and princess being here to present their grievances to the Prefectural Office?"

The conversation among the tea drinkers shifted to whether there were any major injustices in the local area.

After listening for a while, Qingyang found that Prefect Shang Chibai’s reputation was relatively good, with few tea drinkers criticizing him.

Suddenly, some tea drinkers glanced behind her.

Qingyang turned and saw Zhang Su, dressed in everyday clothes, stepping into the teahouse. In the half-light of dusk, his figure was as straight as a sword, his face like cold jade.

Already drawing attention, Zhang Su’s arrival made the tea drinkers even more curious. They openly or covertly stared at the group.

Having heard enough, Qingyang decided to leave with Zhang Su and Fan Huaizhong.

Outside the teahouse, Fan Huaizhong consciously dropped back a few steps, watchfully surveying the streets.

Qingyang then asked Zhang Su, "Did the master and the mistress send you to find me?"

Zhang Su replied, "The master is fine, but the mistress is indeed worried."

Qingyang mounted her horse and, as they headed back to the official lodge, asked Zhang Su about his and the Second Prince’s observations at the Yingyang Garrison. Learning that the Second Prince had only observed military exercises and sparred with a few strong soldiers, while Zhang Su had inspected the armor, weapons, and barracks, Qingyang sighed inwardly for her brother.

Once both children had returned, Emperor Xingwu called the siblings before him and asked each to recount what they had done.

Qin Bing, as the elder brother, spoke first, commenting on the martial drills of the Yingyang Guard troops. They seemed adequate, but not as impressive as the officers and soldiers of the capital garrison.

Qingyang tried to be concise, though she couldn’t go easy on her second brother. As a result, Qin Bing heard how his younger sister had managed to gauge the temperaments of several civil officials and had also provided a reasoned critique of the strengths and weaknesses of governance in Yingyang Prefecture.

Emperor Xingwu nodded and rearranged the assignments: “Tomorrow, the second son will accompany the Prefect to inspect the embankments. Lin'er will go to the Yingyang Guard. Let’s see if you two can cover for each other's oversights.”

Qin Bing: “…”

His sister had even dug out information about powerful local families in counties she hadn’t visited—what oversights could possibly remain? As for the Yingyang Guard, he had probably overlooked enough to sieve through.