Transmigrating to the Chongzhen era, I started by confiscating the Donglin Party.

Chapter 6 Severing the Tentacles - New

On the ninth day of the tenth month of the fifteenth year of Chongzhen's reign, at the third quarter of the hour of Xu (7:45 PM).

The night was as dark as ink, permeating the streets and alleys of Beijing. The faint clamor that had drifted from the direction of Changping during the day had completely subsided, but another, more insidious unease was brewing and spreading in the heart of the city.

Deep in Qipan Street, in the back room of the "Yufeng" pawnshop, candlelight blazed brightly.

Shen Mao sat in the armchair, his fingers unconsciously stroking the jade thumb ring until his knuckles turned white. Before him lay a newly delivered secret letter, the handwriting messenger hastily written, the abbreviated style characteristic of carrier pigeons:

"The troops at Changping have retreated, and Ma Ke has been captured. The Beijing garrison has not moved, and Zhou Yuji has returned to the city. The Embroidered Uniform Guard has closed its offices for three days, cutting off all communication. Things may change; a swift decision is needed."

"Things may change..." Shen Maocai murmured repeatedly, a fine layer of cold sweat seeping from his forehead.

It's been three days. Three full days have passed since Zhou Yanru and Chen Yan were placed under house arrest in the imperial court.

The servants and spies he sent to the Western Garden, the Northern Garrison, and even the Brave Guard Camp either disappeared without a trace or brought back ambiguous reports of "peace."

The simultaneous raids on seven residences in the capital last night were even more alarming to him—among them were Chen Yan, Wang Pu, and countless others with intricate connections to Jiangnan, Shanxi merchants, and the Shen family.

"Manager Shen," his trusted old servant Shen Fu pushed open the door, his face paler than the window paper, "there are quite a few unfamiliar faces on the street outside."

"What unfamiliar face?"

"He looks like an ordinary person, but his steps are steady and his eyes are too sharp. He loiters around the streets in front of and behind our shop, not buying anything, just staring." Shen Fu lowered his voice, "This old servant had his clerk pretend to be someone taking out the night soil to investigate. There were similar people at the entrance of the 'Fan's' bank on the east street and the 'Wang's' silk shop on the west street."

Shen Maocai suddenly stood up.

Fan Ji and Wang Ji—those were the businesses of Fan Yongdou and Wang Dengku from Shanxi in Beijing. The eight great Shanxi merchants and these wealthy merchants from Jiangnan usually kept to themselves, even engaging in some clandestine business dealings. But now, they were all being targeted simultaneously?

An ominous premonition, like a cold, venomous snake, coiled around his back.

"Where are our people at Tongzhou Wharf?" he asked urgently.

"Contact has been lost. The last carrier pigeon returned yesterday afternoon, saying that the dock was suddenly sealed off by a group of Beijing garrison soldiers. They were only allowed to unload cargo, not load it onto ships, and no one was allowed to leave."

"What about Flying Pigeon? Is it still usable?"

"We released three this morning. Two were shot down as soon as they left the city. Only one flew south, but I don't know if it will make it to Yangzhou..." Shen Fu's voice grew softer and softer.

It’s over.

Shen Maocai plopped back into his chair, feeling a chill run through his body. An invisible, icy net was tightening at an alarming speed.

He, along with all the forces in the capital that had ties to Zhou, Chen, and Wang, had become fish in a net.

"Master, shouldn't we...shouldn't we..." Shen Fu made a "go" gesture.

"Leave? Where to?" Shen Maocai gave a bitter laugh. "Nine gates are sealed off, entry is permitted but exit is not. The docks are blocked, carrier pigeons are intercepted. This net is aimed at us 'tentacles'."

He grabbed Shen Fu's arm abruptly, a final, ruthless glint in his eyes: "Go! Move all the account books and secret letters from the storeroom, especially those related to Chen Yan and the Shanxi merchants! Dig a pit in the backyard and bury them! Burn them! Leave not a trace!"

"Yes, yes!" Shen Fu scrambled out.

Shen Maocai sat alone in the side room, listening to the faint sounds of digging and tearing paper coming from the backyard, his heart pounding wildly.

For the first time, he felt so clearly that the knife that had been hanging over the heads of the gentry in Jiangnan was finally about to fall.

Moreover, the first thing to cut off might be these overextended "tentacles".

At the same time, in the backyard of the Northern Garrison Command.

Li Ruolian looked at the three newly delivered secret reports on the table with a cold gaze.

The first document, from Gao Wencai, detailed 27 businesses, guild halls, and secret contact points in the capital that had close ties with the Zhou, Chen, and Wang families. Sixteen of these had backgrounds in Jiangnan, eight had backgrounds in Shanxi merchants, and the remaining three involved the "white gloves" of the Xuanda border generals.

The second report came from an informant planted in the Five Cities Garrison. The report stated that after nightfall, there were unusual occurrences at several of the aforementioned locations—either people were frequently entering and leaving to move boxes and cages, or black smoke from burning paper was rising from the backyard.

The third document is the shortest, consisting of only one line, and comes from the Imperial Guards who infiltrated the "Fanji" bank: "At the beginning of Hai hour, a box was buried in the backyard of the bank, suspected to contain secret account books and documents."

Li Ruolian picked up his vermilion brush and circled nine of the twenty-seven locations. Four of them had a Jiangnan (southern China) background, and five had a Shanxi merchant background. He handed the list to Gao Wencai, who was standing to the side.

"These nine locations are our targets tonight. You will lead your men to oversee the four locations in Jiangnan, under the pretext of 'investigating smuggling.' I will personally go to the five locations in Shanxi, using the warrant for 'investigating prohibited materials for border troops.'"

Gao Wencai took the list and hesitated, saying, "Sir, moving nine places at the same time, especially those belonging to Jiangnan and Shanxi merchants... won't that alert them and force them to act rashly?"

"What His Majesty wants is for them to jump over the wall." Li Ruolian took out the note that read "Lure the snake out of its hole" from her bosom and lit it on the candle. "Only when they jump will we know how many tricks they have up their sleeves and who their accomplices are."

He paused, looking out the window at the deep darkness of the night:

"Moreover, those people in Jiangnan dare to jointly petition and threaten the grain tribute, and the Shanxi merchants dare to collude with the border generals and secretly communicate with Liaodong... If we don't chop off their claws, His Majesty won't be able to make a solid move."

Gao Wencai took a deep breath: "Understood! When shall we make our move?"

"It's midnight." Li Ruolian stood up, pressed the embroidered spring knife at her waist, and said, "Remember, you need both the person and the account books and secret letters. The person can go to the imperial prison alive, but they must spit out everything they have in their mouth."

"yes!"

At midnight, in the backyard of the "Fanji" bank.

The dull thud of shovels striking the earth was exceptionally clear in the quiet night. Three men dressed as laborers were digging furiously in the corner, while a middle-aged man who looked like a steward urged them on, carrying a lantern: "Hurry! Dig deeper! The boss said there'll be a big reward if it's buried properly!"

A pit about half a person deep has been formed, with seven or eight wooden boxes wrapped tightly in tarpaulin piled up beside it.

At that very moment—

"Bang!"

The backyard door was kicked open!

It wasn't just one door; it was two doors, one in front and one behind, that were simultaneously flung open. The torchlight instantly dispelled the darkness, illuminating the cold, stern faces clad in dark blue robes.

Embroidered Uniform Guard!

The lantern in the butler's hand fell to the ground with a clatter and went out instantly. His legs went weak, and he slumped down beside the mound of earth. The men who had been digging the hole were even more dumbfounded, their shovels clanging to the ground.

Li Ruolian slowly walked into the courtyard, her gaze sweeping over the pit and the wooden boxes wrapped in oilcloth, finally landing on the butler's face.

"Fan Yongdou, Master Fan, what a refined hobby!" he said calmly. "Burying treasure in your own backyard in the middle of the night?"

The butler's lips trembled; he wanted to speak, but no sound came out.

"Open it," Li Ruolian gestured.

Two imperial guards stepped forward, used their knives to pry open the oilcloth and the wooden box. A torch was brought closer—inside were no gold or silver, but rather account books, letters, and receipts, piled high.

Li Ruolian casually picked up the top ledger and opened it. It recorded the quantity, time, and recipient of ironware, medicine, and saltpeter transported to the area beyond the Great Wall through the "Fan Ji" from a certain year of the Tianqi reign to a certain year of the Chongzhen reign.

The recipient section lists the names of some Mongolian tribes, as well as some vague appellations.

He picked up another letter. It was written by Fan Yongdou himself to a man named "Korkun," and it concerned, "Were you satisfied with the last batch of goods, Your Highness? If you need armor next time, you must order three months in advance; the Ming court is cracking down hard these days..."

Korkun. Prince.

Li Ruolian closed the letter, his eyes icy cold. He knew who Korkun was—the Gushan Ejen of the Bordered Yellow Banner of the Later Jin Dynasty, a confidant of Huang Taiji.

"Seal all the boxes and take them away," he ordered. "Everyone inside the bank is to be taken away. Seal off the shop and affix the seal of the Northern Garrison Command."

"yes!"

The Imperial Guards pounced like tigers and wolves. Cries, pleas for mercy, and struggles instantly filled the backyard, but were quickly suppressed. In the torchlight, boxes of evidence were carried out, and one by one, people with ashen faces were taken away.

Li Ruolian stood in the courtyard, watching this scene, but felt no relief whatsoever.

This is just the tip of the iceberg. Fan Yongdou's stronghold in Shanxi, his warehouses in Zhangjiakou, his spies in Liaodong... those are the real cancers. But tonight, at least we can sever this tentacle reaching towards the capital.

At the same time, at the "Yu Feng" pawnshop.

The resistance here is more subtle, yet also more intense.

When Gao Wencai and his men knocked on the door, the old gatekeeper opened it directly with a smile on his face, saying that the owner was not home and the manager had already retired for the day, and that they should come back tomorrow if they had any business.

It wasn't until Kao Wen-tsai showed his driver's pass and stated that he wanted to search for "smuggled goods" that a crisp sound of shattering porcelain came from the backyard.

When the Imperial Guards rushed in, Shen Fu was holding a pair of scissors, frantically cutting up a stack of letters. Shredded paper was scattered all over the ground, like a sudden snowfall.

"Take him down!" Gao Wencai shouted.

Two Imperial Guards rushed forward, snatched the scissors, and pinned Shen Fu to the ground.

Gao Wencai squatted down, picked up a few scraps of paper that hadn't been completely cut into pieces, and pieced them together. On them, one could vaguely make out words like "grain transport," "obstruction of transport," and "price," and at the bottom was a blurry monogram of the character "Shen."

He stood up and looked around the elegantly decorated room. Antiques were displayed on the shelves, calligraphy and paintings by famous artists hung on the walls, and the aroma of tea wafted from a purple clay teapot on the table. Everything exuded the sophistication and shrewdness of a wealthy merchant from Jiangnan.

"Search," Gao Wencai said, uttering only one word.

The Imperial Guards began ransacking the place. Bookshelves were knocked over, walls were pounded on, and floorboards were pried open. Half an hour later, they found several thin booklets hidden in a compartment of a painting called "Dwelling in the Fuchun Mountains" in the study.

It's not an account book, it's a "directory".

The records show which officials in various prefectures and counties of Jiangnan had accepted "ice tribute" and "charcoal tribute" from the Shen family, which gentry had partnered with the Shen family to operate estates and shops, and which officials in the canal transport department regularly received "customary money"...

Behind every stroke of the pen is a number, a name, and a handle.

Gao Wencai flipped through the pages, his palms sweating. These few thin booklets likely implicated a wider and deeper number of people than the cases of Chen Yan and Zhou Yanru.

"Take it all." He closed the booklet, his voice hoarse. "Not a single piece of paper can be left behind."

At the beginning of the Yin hour, the Northern Garrison Command's prison was opened.

The second batch of "guests" tonight were brought in.

Unlike last night, this group consisted mostly of merchants, shopkeepers, accountants, and stewards, with few officials. Their faces lacked the stiff composure of officials, instead displaying naked fear and despair.

Li Ruolian stood at the entrance of the passageway, watching as these people were escorted into different cells.

As Shen Fu passed by him, he suddenly struggled to raise his head and hissed, "Lord Li! Our Shen family is a prominent clan in Jiangnan! You cannot do this! I want to see His Majesty! I want to..."

"You will see His Majesty," Li Ruolian interrupted him, her eyes indifferent, "when you are in the torture chamber of the Imperial Prison, when you clearly state each of the names on your register."

Shen Furu was struck by lightning and collapsed, then was dragged away by the Imperial Guards.

Gao Wencai strode over and whispered, "Sir, the five branches of the Shanxi merchants and the four branches in Jiangnan have all been cleared out. Forty-one key figures have been captured, and twenty-seven boxes of account books, secret letters, and directories have been seized."

Among them, the letters seized from Fanji Bank directly pointed to high-ranking officials of the Later Jin dynasty.

Li Ruolian nodded: "Interrogate them overnight. Focus on three points: First, the specific channels of communication between Shanxi merchants and the border generals of Liaodong, Mongolia, and Xuanda;

Second, the detailed plan and participants of the Jiangnan gentry in their efforts to obstruct the Grand Canal transport;

Third, what other hidden strongholds and contingency plans do they have that we don't know about?

"Yes!" Gao Wencai accepted the order and added, "In addition, our brothers who are monitoring the perimeter reported that several businesses that were not on the list also showed unusual activity tonight, seemingly transferring assets."

"Write it down," Li Ruolian said. "After dawn, send someone to their door under the guise of 'assisting in the investigation' to give them a warning. His Majesty wants a swift and decisive victory, but we can't push everyone to the brink. We need to leave a few terrified ones to report to their masters."

"Understood."

Li Ruolian walked out of the imperial prison and looked up at the sky.

The eastern sky was beginning to lighten with the first hint of dawn, but true daylight was still some time away. The chilly autumn morning wind, though biting at his face, invigorated him.

Severing the tentacles is only the first step.

Next, we must follow the bloodstains left by these tentacles to find the giant beast that is hidden even deeper.

The powerful clans of Jiangnan, the Shanxi merchants, the wolves of Liaodong, and the intricate network of interests that runs deep throughout the court and the country…

His knife had only just been stained with the first layer of blood.

His Majesty's chess game has only just begun in the first corner.

In the distance, the outline of the Forbidden City gradually became clearer in the brightening sky. The lights in the Qianqing Palace seemed to still be on.

Li Ruolian straightened her clothes and walked in that direction.

It's time to report back to His Majesty.